Chapter 4

At first I thought I was dead, but everything hurt just too much for that notion to be believable. I cracked open an eyelid expecting to see my death blow incoming, but instead everything seemed peaceful and quiet. I had run my silver runed sword so hard through the Stalker's upper chest that he was now solidly affixed to the side of the chimney and couldn't break himself free. The silver stiletto had also impaled the creature firmly into the brick as well. Major silver poisoning was now wrecking his system and his power was rapidly evaporating. The creature had visibly shrunk enough that its powerful legs could no longer reach the ground as it now hung trapped against the chimney.

I was nearly as helpless at its feet, but I was just out of reach of the pinned monster ... and safe.

I should have completed the rite of Banishment at once, but I couldn't resist one final taunt of my defeated foe before his forcible return to his own home. In one of my vest pockets I keep a couple of very old medieval English silver pennies. I use these occasionally at a funeral for a friend or colleague, placing a silver penny in the dead person's mouth so that they will have the means to pay Charon, the Ferryman, in the unlikely event that their paths should cross in the afterlife. Ok, it's very unlikely, but one never knows and it never doesn't hurt to be prepared for everything.

Dodging one last feeble swipe at me, I pried the Stalker's huge fanged jaws open and chucked the coin deep into his mouth before uttering the Command of Banishment with a confidence and firmness that belied how little strength I actually had left. That he was extremely unhappy was a severe understatement, but he was very obliging and Departed anyway. Good. I didn't have anything like the energy to repeat it all over again. Besides, silver is expensive — almost as expensive as gold these days and really old good silver coins are really worth their weight in gold.

Properly Banished, it would probably be at least a hundred years before the bastard will be able to return and go hunting for me out of revenge. It was even more likely that after returning home severely weakened from being slain and Banished, that it would be very unlikely to remain for long at the top of their food chain. Failure is certainly not rewarded in any of the darker Planes of existence and the strong most very definitely prey upon the weaker.

The husk shells of the five Snow Hulks and the Stalker remained. The BMA would undoubtedly want to take a look at the scene and they probably weren't too far away, as the approaching sirens of a government Flyvr grew closer. You can't battle a Major Visitor and a truckload of lesser ones without setting off some sort of alarm somewhere. They'd be ready for battle, but probably they'll be happier just handling the after action cleanup and paperwork instead.

Speaking of cleanup, I decided to stagger upstairs one last time before the smart boys in the cute red dresses showed up to steal all of the glory, and handed Donald, who miraculously was still waiting in the car like a good boy, a few last minute souvenirs and a parting gift for the winning contestant, me.

And the Stalker was hung from the chimney with care ... A Merry Christmas present to the BMA from the Zyphyr.

The BMA wasn't at all delighted with the mess that had been dumped on them, but couldn't find anything upon which to fault my actions or put any of the blame on me ... but it didn't stop them from trying.

They roped off the house for about a week and had lots of arc-tech gearheads going over everything with a fine toothed micrometer. They paid especial attention to her computer, where I'm sure they found all sorts of unwholesome things. No one could possibly doubt that poor misguided and now mangled Gloria had done the unthinkable for a mere 1.9 Sensitive. If they wanted more answers they could get a good Necromancer to have a talk to her corpse ... too bad her soul was now off in Never-never Shadow Land with her lost Shadow boy playmate, so she'll be unlikely to answer any questions ever again.

At least they had brought along a good Healer who knew what she was doing and fixed me up rather nicely and only a few of the massive claw marks on my back should leave any kind of minor scarring.

If I never see another Stalker again, it will be far too soon.

It took me weeks to get my sword cane back and my best duster coat and suit were a complete loss. It took me over a month to finish the protections on my replacements and they don't fit half as well.

I eventually got a terse Letter of Appreciation from the Deputy Director of BMA in Galveston, which was about as much of an 'attaboy' as I was apparently going to get, but it was still better than getting nothing. They couldn't burn me for this episode but they were equally disturbed that a 'mere Adept' could handle a house full of Hulks and a Stalker. To the high and mighty Wizards living in their ivory towers, this was a major affront to their egos and placed me firmly on their 'watch list'.