Fire Sacrifice

by David J Normoyle

  “Trust the force.”

  Konstance groaned. “Has something glitched in your brain?”

  Something had glitched in my brain; it wasn’t so much trust the force as trust the stories. In my early magical battles, I had leaned on the narratives to help me make my decisions before dismissing those ideas as childish crutches, only to get more and more lost. It was time to reclaim my stories.

  I turned away from Konstance, and in my mind, I visualized what was going to happen. A final confrontation between me and Beacon—yes! How though? Beacon would capture me, perhaps, most likely due to a betrayal by Jeroah or someone else. How would I win? I massaged the flesh of my scarred right hand. Would my powers be returned to me one last time? No, that was impossible. Think, Rune! How did a battered and beaten-down hero defeat an all-powerful foe? The conclusions of various conflicts flashed through my mind, Luke/Emperor, Harry/Voldemort, Buffy/Glory, Frodo/Sauron.

  Sacrifice! That was the key. It was a way to be a hero when all other possibilities were wiped away. With magic gone from the world, I had no way to return from the dead like some of the heroes from the stories had, but that didn’t matter. I didn’t see a future for myself whatever happened, except perhaps the spark of possibility that my night with Persia offered, but I could still go out a hero.

  No! It wasn’t just that I could go out a hero; I was meant to die a hero. It would happen.

  I turned back toward Konstance and my grin was wider than ever. “Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen.”

  “You’re crazy,” Konstance said. “Here, I’ve an idea. Let’s spar.”

  “Spar.” I lifted two hands and attempted to wiggle both sets of fingers. On one hand the fingers wiggled as normal; on the other two fingers twitched twice. “You’re saying I’m the crazy one.”

  “No, look, I can find weapons to suit you.” He stared at my right hand. “Ever heard of a blade shield?”

  I shook my head. Konstance put his sword on the floor, then he waded into the jumble of weapons, returning a few moments later with a short sword and a strange looking shield with a blade coming out the bottom. He helped strap the shield to my right arm, then he gave me the short sword to hold in my left; he stepped back with a satisfied nod.

  The heavy blade shield dragged down on my right arm. “It’s a daft weapon. No wonder I never heard of it.”

  “Try it out at least.” Konstance shoved a few chairs back against the wall to make space in the center of the room. He then picked up his sword and faced me.

  “Shouldn’t the weapons be blunted?”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “No.”

  Konstance shrugged. “Neither am I.” He put his left foot forward in a swordsman stand and raised his blade.

  There was a difference between not being afraid and being stupid. Still, Konstance hadn’t yet decided he was going to help, and he was a man who admired courage and strength. Also, I wanted to see how this would work. The idea that my right arm could still be useful even with the hand crippled was intriguing. So I lifted my weapons to ready position.

  Konstance aimed a few lazy swipes my way. I blocked to my left with the short sword, then to my right with blade shield, then again to the left with the short sword. Compared to how I could move when I was wielding fireswords as a sentinel, every action was at half-pace; still, each movement had a grace and economy to it—my muscles remembered the art of sword-fighting.

  Konstance sped up his attacks. I blocked, then countered, twisting the blade shield, causing the blade to slice downward at Konstance’s hip. He shifted out of the way while simultaneously performing a high block against a sword thrust. It was his turn to grin. “Yes! This is more like it. Less Star Wars tomfoolery, more sentinel badassery.”

  I stepped back, breathing heavily. My right arm was already aching with exhaustion. “You know Beacon is a danger to everyone. Are you willing to help me?”

  “I’m less sure that Beacon is the enemy than I once was.” Konstance took several steps to the left, then swung at my back.

  I threw myself at the floor, rolled, and came out of the roll back standing with both weapons ready. I wasn’t sure how I’d managed without the unwieldy blade shield catching on the floor, but I’d instinctively shifted it out of the way. “Beacon is manipulating you; he is manipulating everyone,” I said. “That’s why you don’t see him as the enemy.”

  “I know better than listen to his speeches,” Konstance said. “But, ultimately, he’s going to bring about worldwide unity.”

  I came to a stop, allowing my weapons to fall to the side; I hadn’t thought about it like that. World peace—isn’t that what every idealistic young person wanted for the world? “But at what cost?” I asked.

  “At the cost of allowing Beacon to be ruler.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Think about the future he’s going to bring about. One where no part of the world escapes his magical manipulation. One where virtually everyone in the world has lost a portion of their free will without being aware of it.” Thinking about it like that, what Beacon was promising wasn’t so far from the dark offering of the Emperor and Darth Vader—order and prosperity in exchange for freedom.

  “We might still be better off.” Konstance raised the point of his sword again, wanting to reinitiate the sparring.

  I shrugged the blade shield off my right arm and dropped the sword. “Enough sparring. I came to you because of your filming rather than fighting skills.”

  “My filming skills?”

  I could tell that intrigued him. “I’ll explain once you agree to help. Do you?”

  “We did make a good team,” Konstance said. “When you fought and I filmed.”

  At the time, I’d hated being in a team with him; I’d wanted to just fight and had seen no use to the filming. But this wasn’t the time for honesty. I offered my hand. “We could be again.”

  Konstance hesitated, then he placed his sword down on a nearby chair and shook my hand. “What’s the plan?”

  “We take one of Beacon’s speeches, and you use your film editing skills to modify it such that the figure of Darth Vader takes Beacon’s place on the stage, and Vader’s voice replaces Beacon’s. That way, the people watching won’t be fooled by Beacon’s magic, and instead will hear that the words he is saying are no different from those of every other wanna-be dictator since history began.”

  Konstance chuckled. “So you are really going all-out in the idea that the key to defeating Beacon lies in a story designed to entertain children.”

  “Stories are a lens into the world, and I’m not ashamed to use the relevant lens to understand a moment in time, and to use that lens to help others see clearer.”

  Konstance shrugged. “It’s crazy, but, hey, I like to think I have some crazy in me.”

  Chapter 30

  Friday 09:45

  I jerked awake, sitting in a chair in front of a blank computer screen in Konstance’s basement. “Hurry up!” came a shout from upstairs.

  “Hurry up for what?” I rubbed sleep from my eyes. My body might be awake—barely—but my brain wasn’t.

  “Danny and Persia have arrived already!” Konstance shouted down. “We are waiting on you.”

  “I thought they weren’t…” I trailed off. I had talked to Persia on the phone, and we’d arranged for her to come the next morning; I was only just realizing it was the next morning. “Did we finish the video?”

  “I did it while you snored.”

  We’d spent the entire day and well into the night trying to make a professional looking adaption of a Beacon speech with Darth Vader’s figure digitally transposed over Beacon’s person, and Beacon’s voice distorted to mimic Vader’s. “I’ll be up in a sec,” I said.

  Instead of immediately ascending the stairs, however, I walked among the jumble of weapons, looking through them. The short sword and the blade shield with which I’d sparred with Konstance were no longer present. I figured Konstance had brought them
upstairs, intending for me to bring them and use them in the upcoming fight.

  I wasn’t so sure. It had felt good to spar, and to realize that even though my magical powers were gone, I hadn’t lost all the skills that I had picked up since becoming a sentinel. But when I tried to visualize beating Beacon in a fair fight, I came up empty, blade shield or no blade shield. All these weapons at my feet had once belonged to Richard Sulle—Beacon wasn’t going to be unskilled with weapons, if he even let it get that far.

  No, if I was going to stop Beacon, it was going to be as a sneak, as an assassin, as a sacrifice. So I ignored the warhammers, morningstars, and longswords and lifted up an unadorned knife around a foot long inside a leather sheath.

  I tested the knife’s sharpness and the speed with which it could be drawn. Satisfied, I looked upstairs to make sure Konstance wasn’t watching, then moved into a darkened corner. I lowered my trousers, strapped the sheathed knife securely against my thigh, then buckled my trousers back into place.

  I moved back into the light, watching the material of my trousers to see if the knife showed—it didn’t. Then I darted forward a few steps to test if the knife restricted me. It rubbed abrasively against the skin of my thigh but didn’t slow me down. Good enough!

  In the kitchen, I found Konstance drinking juice. “Get something to eat,” he told me.

  “Did you sleep at all?”

  “I caught an hour or two,” he said. Despite the sleepless night, he actually looked much better than the day before. The sense of purpose and the night’s activity had reinvigorated him. That said, it was possible that he was running on adrenaline rather than real energy, which was a situation ripe for a crash later.

  “You said Danny and Persia are here?”

  He nodded his head toward the living room. I walked in to see the blade shield strapped to Danny’s arm. Facing him, Persia held up the short sword.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked. In truth, I was glad for the bizarre situation as it provided something to focus on. I had no idea how I was supposed to act around Persia.

  “This is the strangest contraption I’ve ever seen.” Danny loosened the straps and pulled it off, dumping it on the table. “A shield with a sword poking out the end. What will they think of next?”

  “It’s an ancient weapon, though little used.” Konstance said, coming into the living room behind me. It looks awkward, but you should have seen Rune wield it yesterday evening.”

  “Is that so?” Persia, for the first time, looked directly at me.

  I flushed and turned. “It’s too heavy,” I said. “I’m not bringing it.”

  “That’s a pity. I thought I’d found the perfect weapon for you. Though maybe you’re right.” Konstance shrugged. “Maybe it’s overkill.”

  “I’m not bringing the short sword or any of the other weapons either.”

  “We don’t have anything else,” Persia said. “Jeroah is pretending to be a security guard at LNN headquarters, and he is wearing a gun, but the rest of us have no weapons. Konstance’s idea of using medieval weapons did seem crazy when I first heard it, but there’s some sense to the idea. Having a familiarity with a weapon’s use, and being able to act instinctively is important.”

  I remembered dropping the handgun when I had call to use it. “I won’t need a gun either.”

  “Do you know something we don’t?” Persia asked. “There’s being brave and there’s being foolhardy.”

  “No. I just think this is the best way.” The knife felt heavy against my thigh. I didn’t like lying, but I wanted to keep the knife secret until I needed it, and I had no idea who Beacon might have corrupted by then. “Best way for me, at least. The rest of you should bring all the swords you can carry.”

  “Way ahead of you.” Konstance picked up a long duffel bag by the wall. He unzipped it to show a small number of sheathed swords, then dropped the bag back onto the floor.

  “And Jeroah?” I asked. “You said he’s a security guard at LNN. He’s going to help us get in?”

  Persia nodded. “He’s also located the broadcasting center. What’s the story with that video you mentioned last night?” Persia said.

  “The video is ready to be shown to the world.” Konstance wiggled a USB drive, then he slipped it into his pocket.

  “Rune claimed that it can nullify Beacon’s influence. Will it really though?” Persia asked. “Beacon has magic on his side.”

  “We are evoking the magic of stories,” Konstance said.

  “It’s our best hope,” I said.

  “Well, I guess none of us are expecting guarantees,” Persia said. “Are we ready to go then?”

  “About Jeroah? Are you sure you trust him?” I asked.

  Persia shrugged. “He’s our best hope.”

  Chapter 31

  Friday 10:35

  The drive to LNN headquarters was going to take around twenty minutes. Danny drove, with Persia in the passenger seat and Konstance and me in the back seat. Though the journey passed in silence, the mood was optimistic, which made us a carful of fools. The four of us were returning to where Harriet and her small army had failed, and we thought we had a chance of succeeding.

  It was a bright morning, and at one point, when stopped at a traffic light, I wound down the window, turned my face upward and let the sun’s rays warm my skin. The memory of the sunsets from the time I’d lived at the cabin by the lake flashed through my mind, and I felt a sudden desire to see that lake one last time.

  “Get back in here.” Konstance yanked on my jacket, pulling me back into the car. “What are you? A dog?”

  “Woof, woof,” I said, winding back up the window and settling back into my seat. The lights went green and we took off again.

  I ran over the plan—such as it was—in my mind. Jeroah had given Persia an ID to allow us through the electronic doors, plus he’d instructed her on the best way to get inside without being noticed. Once inside, we were to make our way to the broadcasting control room, where Jeroah would use his gun to coerce the technicians into broadcasting a loop of our Beacon-as-Vader video. Jeroah had informed Persia that most of the screens destroyed by Harriet during her attack were already replaced, once more showing LNN around the clock. Although we hoped to undermine the allegiance toward Beacon of everyone in Lusteer and indeed the wider world, most important for the success of our mission was that those inside the LNN headquarters questioned their loyalty toward him.

  Beacon stayed on the tenth floor, the highest in the building, and that was where Alex and Jo were kept. We hoped that—with Beacon’s control over the LNN employees loosened—we’d be able to make our way to the top floor, free Alex and Jo, and, ideally, execute Beacon himself. That part of the plan was vague though, and I could easily imagine us getting barricaded into the broadcasting control center once the security guards became aware of our presence.

  Because of this, and because my presence in the control room wasn’t essential, I was planning on proposing a change of plan. Like with my knife, though, I wanted to wait until the last moment to reveal it.

  The first barrier we faced was the literal barrier into the underground parking garage. It wasn’t guarded, and Persia passed the I.D. that Jeroah had given her across to Danny, who pressed it against the electronic sensor.

  The light remained red, and the barrier stayed down. Danny swiveled around to look at each of us. If we couldn’t get into the carpark without being noticed, what hope for the rest of the plan?

  “Try it again,” Persia said.

  Danny did, and this time the barrier rose. A collective sigh of relief was expelled. Danny drove down the ramp, and—directed by Persia—he parked close to a small side entrance. We all got out; Konstance carried the duffel bag full of swords.

  At the side entrance, Persia didn’t immediately touch the ID to the sensor, because, through a narrow window in the door, we could also see that at least one security guard awaited us. The guard had his back to us, but he would turn as s
oon as we entered. Konstance dropped the bag on the ground, unzipped it and handed a sheathed sword to Persia. She hesitated, then took it. He offered a second sword, first to Danny, then to me. We both shook our heads. Konstance unsheathed his sword, stood close to the door and gave a nod to Persia.

  This is crazy, I thought. Are we really attacking a news station with swords?

  Persia beeped open the door, and Konstance charged through, his sword raised. The security guard turned, raising his arms. “Wait, wait. It’s me, it’s me.”

  “It’s okay.” Persia grabbed hold of Konstance, pulling him back. “It’s Jeroah.”

  “I’m on your side,” Jeroah said. “Don’t sho… Don’t stab.”

  Two executives in suits, further down the corridor, had come to a sudden stop. Upon seeing the swords, their faces lost their color, and they turned and fled at top speed.

  Jeroah laughed. “I sure hope they didn’t soil those nice clothes.”

  “We better move fast,” Konstance said. “Which way to the broadcasting control center?”

  “Go without me,” I announced. “I’ll free Alex and Jo.”

  “Rune, that’s not the plan,” Persia said.

  “Konstance has the video. Jeroah has a gun. We’re not all needed. I intend to take advantage of the chaos in the immediate aftermath of the broadcast changing.”

  “I know where Alex and Jo are kept. I’ll bring Rune,” Jeroah said. “The rest of you continue with the original plan. Persia knows where to go.” He unstrapped his gun holster and handed it across to Danny. “Here. A gun is better for a stick-up than a sword.”

  Jeroah offering to help wasn’t a surprise to me. If he intended to turn me over to Beacon, he needed to stay close. “Okay, Jeroah and I will get into position on the top floor. Once Vader appears on the screens, we’ll make our move.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this idea earlier?” Persia gave me a hurt look.

  “Trust me,” I said. Of course, the last-second change of plan and the hidden knife at my thigh meant I didn’t trust her.