Mist Over Monticello (part Four)
by Bevie James
The man threatening them with arrest was attired all in grey, including a hood which covered even his face. All that showed was a small space between his eyes, which were hidden behind bluish goggles, and part of his chest. The man appeared fit. More than fit, thought Mulogo. His clothes showed off his form perfectly. Nice clothes, too. And tight. Hmm.
But Mulogo wasn’t given time to consider the newcomer’s good looks. Wafula sprang into action. He splashed forward, wielding his staff two-handed. Mulogo hung back, preparing to send an electrical charge. He lifted his hands and willed the power to explode from his fingers. Too late he realized the newcomer was emitting a magic of his own. The electrical attack deflected – right back at Wafula.
The blast knocked Wafula backwards and down into the water. He rose spluttering and furious.
“Damn you, Mulogo! Stop with the frikkin’ magic and fight like a man.”
“But I’m not a man. I’m…”
“You’re not anything, you useless piece of slime!”
Mulogo felt his temper rise, but he had to stay focused. Damn this world’s atmosphere. It made controlling his power almost impossible. He would have to be careful lest he inadvertently hurt Wafula, like he did when he turned him blue. He tried to focus.
The sense of opposing magical power hit him again. What was this guy doing? Ah! He was a mind control master. Well, Mulogo knew how to block that. He raised his hands to make the spell.
It would have worked. Mulogo knew it. It was such a simple spell. Only Wafula was still looking him, and when he saw Mulogo raise his hands he swung his staff.
“Don’t you dare! I’m tired of being hexed by you.”
Mulogo wasn’t quick enough to avoid the first strike, but he quickly drifted away from Wafula’s attack.
“Stop hitting me! I can handle this guy.”
“Like hell! You can’t handle anything.”
Wafula continued to pursue Mulogo. Mulogo continued to dart away, moving across the river. He saw the man in the tight grey suit watching. The sound of sirens filled the air.
“Wafula, we should not fight each other,” Mulogo pleaded.
But Wafula was in one of his insane moods and there was no talking to him. All Mulogo could do was avoid that wicked staff. Unfortunately, he had put himself in a bad place. Too many trees. He would have to take out some branches.
As Wafula charged through the water, wielding his staff and looking like he was ready to kill, Mulogo raised his hands and let the lightning flow. It struck the tree above him and it snapped in half. Mulogo moved out of the way as the thirty foot piece fell. Wafula did not. The tree struck him and dropped him where he stood, which was in the river.
Horrified, Mulogo quit levitating and fell into the water. Wafula was under the surface, struggling. But the tree was too heavy for him. Grabbing a branch, Mulogo tried to lift it, but he had no strength. There was no other way. He was going to have to risk his magic.
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
It was the stranger in the tight grey suit. Mulogo looked at him and then pleaded.
“Please help me! He’ll drown.”