The Crossover by Larry Kollar Page B

again. He scowled and looked at his pistol. “No way I coulda missed!”
    Chelinn shook his head. “You are dedicated to the eradication of magic, and yet use magical protection yourself? I believe the word is hypocrisy .”
    “Sometimes, one must use the weapons of evil to fight evil.” Hunter turned around. “Go. Take him with you.” He waved the pistol at Freddy in a dismissive gesture. “What any of you do next is not my concern.”
    “C’mon, Sam,” said BJ, pistol dangling from his hand, “this just got weirder than I wanna deal with.” He looked at Freddy. “You too, I guess. Can you help us find Terry?”
    Freddy nodded and joined them; they ran to the assumed safety of the trees.

    “Much better,” Chelinn told Hunter. “One on one.”
    “I thought you would prefer it this way.”
    Chelinn nodded. “You have that much honor, and I will return honor for honor.” He hefted Gonfanlon, his glowing bronze blade. “Shall I put this away, or do you have a weapon to match it?”
    “I have.” Hunter threw his pistol aside then raised his hand skyward. A gigantic silver sword grew from his hand, looking much like an elongated meat cleaver. Electrical discharges crawled across it like frenzied worms, then faded away.
    “Lightning Silver?” Chelinn looked impressed.
    “Indeed. The greatest weapon to ever be forged by Air magic, it is said.” The air crackled as Hunter swung it in front of him. “But nothing like the weapons forged by the smiths of this world. The bomb we planted would have destroyed the auditorium and part of the adjacent hotel. But these mad fools have created weapons that could wipe away this entire city, and they have thousands. Were they to be used all at once, this entire world would be left a cinder.” Hunter grinned. “Incredible, the power that can be unleashed when we put aside childish things.”
    “I believe… I need a drink.” Chelinn fumbled in his jacket for a moment, then withdrew a flask. “Would you like to share a toast?”
    “I prefer to fight sober. But do indulge yourself.”
    Chelinn nodded and upended the flask, drinking down magic that would give him preternatural strength and speed. “Ah. Better. Shall we dance?”

    BJ, Sam, and Freddy reached the trees and turned to see a gigantic sword spring from Hunter’s hand. “Shoot,” said Sam, watching Chelinn upend his flask, “I could use some of that myself.”
    “I have no drink,” said Lodrán behind them, “but I’ll offer you a trade. My knife for your friend.”
    BJ and Sam gasped and spun around. “Where the hell did you come from?”
    “The shadows.” Lodrán stepped back, and disappeared. “Do we have a deal?”
    “Yeah, sure.” BJ lifted the knife from his belt and gave it a gentle toss in the direction of Lodrán’s voice. “Now where’s Terry?”
    Lodrán stepped forward, retrieved his knife, and pointed it upward. “As some of your people say, hanging out.” They looked up to find Terry, dangling from a tree limb, bound and gagged but alive and as comfortable as one could be in his position.

    “Okay, I’m going!” Chuck flapped a hand at the cops ushering him away from the auditorium. “My car’s over there, okay?”
    “Fine. Just get in and drive away.” The cop gave him a final poke in the back. “Don’t dawdle!”
    Chuck reached his car and opened the trunk—as far as he could tell, they had packed everything. He collapsed the hand truck and laid it on top of the boxes.
    “Where the hell are you guys?” he asked, starting the car. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about Lodrán. His porn-star mustache, his outfit, his knives…

    Chelinn took his “ready” stance, and Hunter charged. Lightning Silver crashed into Gonfanlon with a peal of thunder, throwing sparks and tiny bolts of lightning. Above them, clouds began to gather. Chelinn sidestepped, impossibly fast, but his counterstroke was met by an equally swift parry.  
    “You leave nothing to