Chapter 6: Heavy Lifting
The rat sculpture exploded in a shower of foul-smelling gloop as the fireball hit it. Having just barely managed to duck below the blast, the duo jumped to their feet and dashed behind some nearby barrels overflowing with wheels of brie. The smaller man risked a look around the barrels.
“Great gods above, it is as I feared. He is a Rat Mage, and one of some power.” The small man shook his head putting away his sword, “I had hoped that he was just some sort of eccentric or rat fancier.”
When the pinch-faced sorcerer had turned, both men had recognized him instantly from the painting at the base of the tower, though they realized now how flattering it had been. In real life his complexion was even more sallow. He also had much less hair and bigger front teeth. The artist had gotten his scraggly muttonchops right though. The brown ankle length cassock, dark fur trimmed overcoat, and the thick dun-colored cable-knit sweater had also been accurate. But now, able to see his boney wrists and ankles wrapped in crisscrossing bands and shod in soft pointy shoes, they realized how it all combined to make him look like a man-sized rat. He even had a whip-like tail hanging out the back of his overcoat.
But it had been the small man that realized the danger as he saw the mage twitching and muttering under his breath. The large man had assumed that it was some sort of fit or heart attack due to the strain of all that miserable screeching. Thanks to the smaller man pulling him toward the statue, he had come away with only a light singeing.
“NOW LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE MADE HRATZINGER DO!” screeched the mage, “HRATZINGER HAD JUST GOTTEN A PASSABLE LIKENESS!” He resumed muttering and twitching.
“He is a whatsthisnow?” asked the larger man sheathing his blade and shifting into as low a crouch as he could manage behind the barrels.
“A Rat Mage, a practitioner of Rat Magic.” Seeing the lack of comprehension on the larger man’s face he continued, “You saw the many strange and wondrous powers of the rats below, yes? Well, every rat a Rat Mage bonds with can lend him its power. Through his affinity with the rats, he is able to channel their abilities and use them as his own. The more rats he knows…”
“The more power he has,” finished the larger man as the light dawned on his face with a grimace.
The barrels behind them cracked and splintered as they rose into the air. Wheels of brie rained down on them as the barrels crumpled in on themselves crushed by invisible hands. Beyond them the Rat Mage pantomimed throwing two fistfuls of something away. As he did, the remains of the barrels crashed to either side of the room.
“No hiding,” he tutted in a sing song voice. Then with a shoving gesture he sent both men tumbling back over a pile of cheese.
“How DO we stop a Rat Mage?” the larger man asked pushing blocks of cheddar and swiss off himself.
“Run them out of spells,” the small man shrugged, “or get close enough to shut them up before they can ask for more power.”
“Then we should split up,” said the big man, “together we are…” He grabbed the little man and tossed him to the right as he then dove to the left. A hurricane force gale slammed into the pile of cheese smashing it against the outer wall. Hunks of crumbled cheese flew in every direction.
“You know, Hratzinger is rather shocked how much Hratzinger is enjoying this!” he cackled. “Ooooh, that gives me an idea!” a cruel smile played across his lips followed by more mumbling and twitching.
The two men stared at each other from across the blasted room.
“I don’t like the sound of THAT!” said the larger man.
The little man nodded to himself as if making a decision. “I will distract him…you…I don’t know…do something,” he then drew what looked like a small letter opener from the back of his belt and stepped out into the space that had been cleared by the blast of wind.
Standing so that the hand holding the small blade was behind him he faced the mage. “Well, oh scabrous one, do your worst, whatever pitiful magics you can summon forth from your plague-ridden familiars does not scare me.”
“Oh really,” the Rat Mage scoffed.
With a short hiss he clawed at the air with his left hand and a beam of lightning shot forth. The lightning flashed as the small man stabbed forward with the blade he had been concealing.
The mage cackled in triumph. A moment passed as he realized that lightning still arched forth from his hand. “Wuh?” he grunted quizzically. Then tilting his head, he looked past his hand at the small man. “WHAT!?!” he exclaimed.
The small man stood braced as if being blown by a strong wind; his hood and cape had been blown back and were trailing out behind him. His dark tousled hair whipped about his head as sparks flew from the red hot tip of the small blade he struggled to hold in front of him. The lightning seemed to be magnetized to it and it arched, crackling and snapping between him and the mage.
“HAH, FOOL! You can not undo the fabric of Hratzingers enchantments with a common spell ripper. They are simple tools not made for such strenuous work!” He snatched at the air with his right hand causing another bolt to form twisting and winding around the first, doubling its size.
The small man’s boots scuffed against the stone floor as the force of the lightning began to push him backward. The tip of the spell ripper began to glow white hot and globs of molten metal replaced the sparks as the blade began to melt.
“Now, oh great one, would be a good time to do something,” he gritted.
“HEY-UP!” the large man only grunted in return.
Hearing the strange sound, the mage shifted his gaze to the larger man. “Don’t worry, you ape, you’re n…” A dark shape filled his view. “Oh rats,” he managed to whimper as the three-foot wheel of parmesan hit him squarely in the chest. The force of the impact doubled him over and drove his crumpled body back through the black board, smashing into the wall of cheese behind. Precariously stacked and haphazardly nibbled, the wall tumbled down burying the dazed wizard beneath an edible avalanche.
Pointy shoes twitched beneath the rubble.
© Tucker Johnson 2020