Tim Marquitz - Echoes of the Past

Knowing it would only be a second or two before he realized I was there, I dug the vial of Lucifer’s blood out of my pocket and downed a couple of drops while I advanced. Though I could use the boost, I couldn’t afford to drink more and risk being caught up in the swell of power. A quick heal would have to do.

The blood went to work as I closed on Mihheer. He saw me coming at the last second. With a toothy snarl, he spun around and raised his hand. Still too worn down to draw upon my magic, Lucifer’s blood not quite there yet, I drew my gun in a swift motion and pointed it at Mihheer’s head. We were about fifteen feet apart.

He growled and froze as he saw the weapon. Having seen me use it before, he understood its function. Fortunately for me, he didn’t know the stupid thing was empty and useless. I didn’t even have time to close the chamber. As long as he didn’t figure that out before I was fully healed, I might have a chance.

“Looks like we’re at a standoff, Mihheer,” I told him, hoping to play it up to buy myself more time.

He stood with his hand raised and tiny flickers of energy sparkling at his fingertips, but he didn’t attack. “So it would seem.” He raised his other hand to show me what was inside. In the palm was a small block of ice, a shimmering red vial encased inside it. “You are not Lucifer.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Thanks for finally noticing.” The ice in his hand gave off a subtle ping of essence. I realized the blood was mine. My pulse raced, and I wanted to look around to catch my bearings, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off Mihheer.

“You are of his bloodline, though. Am I right? I feel his aura about you.”

“Are you working on our family tree, or what? What the hell do you want?” While he might be sensing my heritage, the fact that I’d been carrying a vial of Lucifer’s blood every time he’d come across me was probably throwing him off.

“My master summoned me to find Lucifer. Tell me where he is.” The magic at his fingers flickered as he dropped the ice chunk from the other. He looked like he was ready to draw down, but that was okay with me. I was finally feeling up for a fight.

“If I knew where he was, I’d draw you a map so you could go and get your ass kicked. I would so love to not have to deal with you anymore. I’d even draw it in crayon to make it easy, but he’s not exactly around these parts anymore.” It wasn’t a lie. I didn’t know where Lucifer was, even if I did, technically, know how to reach him. As much as I wanted to send Mihheer packing off to foreign lands in tiny little pieces, it didn’t seem like a good idea to send him to Baalth’s room of magical wonders.

He shook his head. “If you will not lead me to Lucifer, then I must find a way to bring him to me.”

I laughed. “You think he’s gonna drop what he’s doing to come and rescue poor little old me? You’ve got another thing coming, buddy. I hope you like disappointment because you’re gonna get it in spades if that’s your plan.”

Predatory smile in place, he laughed. “Gorath will have his revenge if he must level this lowly universe to do so, but he would rather vent his fury on the creature that enslaved him.” He gestured to the vial of my blood on the ground. “You are powerful enough to delay my master’s vengeance for a short time, though you can never hope to stop it. Surrender Lucifer to Gorath and my master’s hunger will be sated. He will leave this universe behind, unharmed. Continue to resist and he will show no mercy to you, or your world. Choose now.”

I stared at Mihheer, looking for any hint he was lying, but I saw nothing. He believed Gorath could defeat Lucifer and destroy the world, but something didn’t make sense. So far it had been Mihheer doing all the heavy lifting, and he hadn’t even realized I wasn’t my uncle until just now. From what I could tell of Mihheer, though he was powerful, he certainly wasn’t in Lucifer’s league. Gorath would have to know that having had his ass kicked when he first came to Earth. He’d been locked up as a trophy in Lucifer’s house for a thousand years. So, while I could understand the desire for revenge, I couldn’t figure out why he thought he was capable of it outside of pure insanity.

Then it hit me.

I suddenly remembered Hasstor mentioning his power being depleted by the trip to Earth. He needed Xyx’s help to get home, so it only made sense that Gorath was also weakened by the trip here. He’d come across Lucifer in that state, and had his ass handed to him, and then imprisoned. If Lucifer knew just how powerful the guy was, which seemed logical seeing how he locked him away, then the case probably drained his power and kept Gorath weak. That explained why Mihheer was making first contact. Gorath was either testing the waters, unsure of how powerful Lucifer has become in the intervening years, or still recovering from his millennium inside.

Both were fine with me. It gave me time.

“I think I’ll go with answer C: How about you go fuck yourself.”

Mihheer growled and dug into the mouths of one of the faces on his armor and pulled out a small, soft-cover book. Having already experienced what he could do, I chucked my gun at him and reached for my magic. He dodged the pistol, but his power went off first. The book glistened with bluish energy and he tossed it aside, just as the fireball I’d made as payback flew at him.

He ducked and created a shield, but only managed to partially block the shot. It exploded and sent him careening across the snow. His arm singed, the faces there drooped and melted, he scrambled to his feet. I chased after him, hurling yet another fireball. He managed to deflect it, but I followed up with a Superman punch even Georges St. Pierre would be proud of. Georges never had to deal with a magical force field. Lucky him.

My fist crashed into the shield and it felt like punching a steel girder. Mihheer stumbled back a few steps as I winced, a full blown smile splitting his ugly mug in half as though he’d just been named the intergalactic beauty queen. It made me nervous. The massive crunch of ice behind me clarified things pretty quickly. He’d gotten his spell off.

“You have chosen your fate. Since you will not summon Lucifer, we no longer have any need of you.” A monstrous thump sounded in the snow to emphasize his words, and he laughed to make it worse.

“You won’t find him without me,” I shouted, hoping to delay him.

He only laughed louder. “There is another of your blood we might yet convince to be more cooperative. Let us see if she cares more for her life.”

Scarlett!

“You motherfu-“ I didn’t get a chance to finish as a wall of ice crashed into me. Shards of frozen crystals exploded around me and sliced into my flesh as I was knocked sideways. I hit the snow and rolled to my feet just in time to see Mihheer’s energy erupt around him. He disappeared right after.

Mihheer gone, I glanced over to see what he’d left behind. I’d have wet myself if I wasn’t afraid of cutting my dick off with a stream of frozen piss. Before me was a dragon made entirely out of ice. Not a cuddly, My Little Pony kind of dragon either, but a full blown, Lord of the Rings, I’m gonna eat your skull kind.

Its head turned toward me with a loud creak, its crystalline eyes whirling in massive frozen sockets. Huge wings jutted up from its back and stretched for the sky, reflecting flickers of dim sunlight across the snow. Easily twenty feet tall, I could only imagine how many margaritas I could make out of the thing. It dropped its front end low like a puppy fixing to pounce, and roared. The temperature dropped twenty degrees, in an instant, and cold droplets of water peppered my face.

Before its voice faded, it came at me. It soared into the air with a quick leap and came swooping down at me. I might have pooped a little right then, but don’t hold me to it. No time to check my underwear, I ducked out underneath the thing and rolled away as it crashed into the snow. Its mouth slammed into the ground and the resulting crunch of chewed earth sent a shudder down my spine. That could have been me. It raised its head and swallowed, turning back toward me again.