by Scott Moore
***
Alti tried to block out the screams. She had to focus on the task. Myko stood above her, eyes glaring with anger. Yet her thoughts trailed to the blood on her hands. Not real blood, only metaphorical; she had not actually killed a single person tonight. But she had failed hundreds in this room, thousands outside it.
“You could have just made this easy sister.” Myko had cleared the surrounding area. “You could have come home with us, but you had to be stubborn. You got that from Mother, she always was defying Father and his ideas. Spoiled is what he called her. Said he coddled her too much in the beginning. She was weak anyhow, Alti. Would have died a normal human death. She wasn’t like us, not in the end. She was a coward and weak. Do not follow her path. You can be so much more than she ever was.”
Myko pushed his long hair behind his ears and looked like he would bend down to take Alti’s hand. Was he serious about still wanting to reconcile with her? Did he believe she could just let these people die? She had caused this, and he wanted her not to care.
Alti threw a dart at Myko’s shoulder and rolled backward.
Myko dodged. He had seen her power before. They had sparred in the rooms of her father’s castle. Myko was strong. Also, smart. So, he drew the Groundborn toward him. He had lost his brother and sisters to Alti already, they would not be a factor any longer in this single fight, but he could still use the Groundborn as weapons.
The first creature bit into her calf and made her stumble forward. The next one she dodged and threw sideways to the ground. Three more took the creatures place and clawed at her torso. She lost track of Myko, which would have been his plan.
Alti threw a dart into the creature behind her and it fell to the ground. Two others stepped up to trap her in a circle. Without leaving herself open for an attack from Myko she couldn’t dispose of these yellow eyed creatures.
Another bite into her thigh twirled her around. The Groundborn could not kill her alone, but with the distraction of Myko they could weaken her considerably. She put her palm to her leg and shot another dart. She heard the crumpling creature hit the floor no need to check on her kill.
The yellow claws dug into her shoulder and Alti dropped to a knee. A single dart flew over her head and into the wall behind her. She threw her own dart into the creature still attached to her and it fell. She wondered how many of them survived. How many had that man with the sword killed before he fell to his death?
Alti looked out into the crowd. The bodies were piling up. Women’s once fresh colorful gowns were now a single shade of dark red. Men were in heaps around them. Their finely pressed suits ripped to shreds. Alti spotted Myko just in time to roll to the side of another dart flying at her chest.
Rolling to her feet, Alti threw two more darts knocking down two more Groundborn. Myko had moved from his previous spot. She could not hear for all the screaming still inside the room, although their voices were losing intensity.
Six Groundborn ran for Alti. At least if their attention stayed on her, they weren’t eating the party goers, but it also meant that Myko could move around freely. Alti dropped her thoughts and opened the void, shooting the six demons through the hole.
That left her standing in the center of the ballroom alone.
“You look like you're missing a partner,” Myko’s voice whispered right behind her. Alti twirled, but Myko didn’t show. His laugh resonated in her ears and an errant dart flew past.
Still, Alti bent forward enough to leave her in a defenseless position. Myko took advantage sliding into her side and taking her down to the ground. Alti tried to fight back, but in one-on-one strength Myko had the advantage. He tried to pin her down to the ground, but Alti still had a few more tricks. The surrounding air started to shimmer, and she used it to push Myko backward. The smile never left his face as he tried charging again. Alti brought her foot up to meet his midsection, but he dodged and lunged forward driving his fist into her jaw.
Alti could taste the blood welling up inside her mouth. She moved her jaw to make sure it hadn’t broken. She opened another void in her mind. The hole appeared right next to her, and she rolled through. Myko would not dare follow, not knowing where she could take him.
Alti, however, did not plan to go very far. She dropped back into the room just behind him and threw a dart at the back of his head. A Groundborn jumped in front of him taking the dart against its own chest. The creature fell dead and gave Myko enough time to roll back to his feet. Several more Groundborn circled around her. Alti moved her attention for a split second and lost Myko again.
This time Myko played no games with her. Darts started flying just as fast as he could muster them. She dodged a few and even more hit the creatures in front of her, taking their lives. Myko did not care for the creatures. They were means to an end for him, just like they were to her father.
Alti rolled farther back into the room toward the splintered wooden doors. She noticed that the Lady Duchesses were still alive. She also unexpectedly saw the man with the sword guarding the stage. No Groundborn surrounded them any longer. They all had turned their attention to her. There were only fifteen left.
The darts started to rain past her head again. She had to figure out a way to get back on the attack.
She dodged a few more darts by sliding behind a pillar. The concrete chunks flew onto the ground. Alti took a deep breath, trying to figure out a solution to this problem. Before anything came to her, she felt the fingers touch her back. She tensed, who had she missed?
Run. It is futile. Run. It is futile. Run!
34
Miles would have run until the sun came up. He would have run through the day. He would have run until the horse collapsed from exhaustion. Then he would have run on his own two feet. His plan involved him never stopping again. For nothing. He would run until he fell over dead. Because the alternative was to stop and be torn to shreds. If he ran, they couldn’t catch him. If he stopped, he died. Torn to shreds.
A figure jumped out onto the path and stopped him. He almost ran them into the ground with the horse’s hooves, but the horse reared and tried to maneuver around the standing figure. Miles pulled on the reins when a second figure popped out from the trees. This figure held a small dagger from his left hand. The other hand-held up the formal sign of peace.
Miles didn’t care. They could kiss his peaceful ass. He would get away from everyone no matter what he had to do. A third, fourth, and fifth figure popped out from above him. One landed on the saddle and grabbed Sammy, toppling him off to the ground. Miles made no plans to go back for him. They had a good run, but eventually Sammy would get him killed.
Miles kicked the horse and a final figure jumped out from the branches and wrapped their arms around his waist. Miles had his rusted sword in front of him. Useless to him with the person behind him wrapped tightly. The horse slowed to a trot without the force of Miles pushing it along. When it slowed to a stop, the figure leaned forward.
“Don’t move,” a male voice said.
Miles did the opposite and thrashed his head back, driving the base of his skull into the lip of the attacker. The man grunted but kept hold of Miles’ arms. The strength of the man overpowered him and Miles almost begrudgingly gave him respect.
“Damn it,” the man said.
The sound of liquid filling his mouth slurred his words. Miles felt the warm blood on the back of his neck a few moments later. Miles smiled, knowing that if he died, he at least went out with a fight. Miles tucked his head forward, ready to come back harder than the first time when a hand wrapped around his throat.
“The boss told us to make you disappear. He left the details up to us. Don’t make it become a dagger in your throat.” A female voice, but Miles couldn’t turn his head to see her.
Miles stopped struggling. They had said the boss told them to make him disappear. Were the Disappearers following him? Miles tried to turn his head to see, but the woman and the man were working together to hold him in place.
“Who are you?” The words were barely audible, due to the lack of oxygen passing over his vocal chords.
“We don’t need names. It is better if we don’t become friends. It oftentimes makes for much harder goodbyes.” The woman’s words dripped with sarcasm.
Miles found that in any other situation he may have liked her. In this situation he just wanted to be far away from what he had seen at the campfire.
“The soldiers back there,” the woman said. “Were they your doing?”
Miles tried to shake his head, but again his muscles were clamped.
“Can’t take credit for that one.”
“What about your friend? Is he a killer?”
Miles had to hold back a laugh.
“Wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Miles said.
The woman didn’t seem up for the humor. She squeezed harder.
“Listen close to the question I ask next. It may decide if you walk away from this on your own legs or get dragged away.” The woman paused a moment. “Do you understand?”
Miles drew in slow breaths. All he could manage with the tight grip of the woman’s fingers. He hated using it to answer stupid questions.
“I understand,” he said. Left with the choice of answering or dying, he chooses to be the coward.
The woman loosened her grip on his neck. Not enough for him to pull away, but enough for him to draw in a full breath.
“Think hard about this,” she said. “What in the hell were those creatures that you called on those soldiers?”
Miles turned. He pushed back against the man behind him. They had seen the monsters?
“I said don’t fight back!”
She hadn’t said that, but Miles turned away from her. He didn’t need to die right before he found someone else who could see those damned creatures.
“Those things have been following me,” Miles said. “I have been running from them for days.” Miles tried not to show excitement, at being overjoyed by the prospect of not being alone. Maybe someone could help him kill the fuckers. They could chop them up to bits and laugh at their corpses. Then Miles could disappear, and everything would be amazing.
“Why would they be following you?” The woman didn’t sound sure.
“I don’t know,” Miles thought about swiveling his head again. Then he thought better of it. “I have killed a few. I don’t know what they are.”
The woman let him go. “How do you kill them?” she asked. She sounded interested, like they played a fun game together.
Miles thought about bucking the man off the horse and riding away. Then he thought better of it. His last shot at a normal life rested with these people. He could kill the creatures and get away from the king and then live a happy life. Maybe not as a lord, but also not as a snack to the ugly fuckers or as a revenge plot.
“With a good jab of a sword,” Miles said taking in more large gasps of air.
“Let him go,” the woman ordered, and the man’s arms dropped. “Get off the horse.”
Miles stretched his arms out and listened to the woman’s command. If she were going to help him, he didn’t mind letting her be in charge. When he hit the ground, he looked for Sammy who stood only a few feet behind them. No one held Sammy, he had just chosen not to help Miles escape. Miles wondered again why he stuck his neck out for the idiot.
“Thanks for the help,” he said to Sammy.
Sammy nodded. “You’re welcome,” he said without any sense of shame.
Miles turned away. There were fourteen masked men and women around them. They were tasked with getting Miles and Sammy out of the kingdom and to lose their identity along the way. A path that could never be followed once dusted away. Miles smiled again.
“Let us be on our way,” the woman said.
“Why did you have me get off the horse then?” Miles asked.
“That is a bastard pony. We ride real horses.”
Miles followed the woman’s eyes and found fifteen war horses that stood a good three feet higher than the horse he had stolen from the dead soldiers. Miles couldn’t have been happier if it were free whore day in the king’s own castle.
35
The hand pushed her head to the side as a dart passed over them both. With confusion, she turned to look at the guiding force. Nov pressed against her panting from his run through the city. His sword drawn in his free hand. His eyes looked determined as he scanned the scene of the tower room.
“I thought you were to stay on the wall,” Alti said.
He had promised her not to interfere. Promised to stay on the wall and out of harm’s way. She had his word, but even if she should feel angry about it, she couldn’t, not right now anyway. She had never been happier to see someone in her life.
“Things change,” Nov said. He looked down into her eyes, and she could see his determination to end this all. “What do we do now?”
Alti took a moment to survey the scene. Beyond the bodies of the men and women, there were fifteen Groundborn still standing. They did not charge her and Nov, they were being controlled by Myko and he would use them wisely.
On the stage still stood the man with his sword brandished, but the Groundborn did not pay him any mind.
“There is someone I have to take care of myself.” She turned to Nov again. “You circle around the edge of the room, meet up with that man on the stage and distract the Groundborn. Preferably by killing them.”
Nov nodded then he moved back into the shadows. She wished him all the best.
Alti stepped away from the pillar. Myko hadn’t thrown a dart for the last few minutes. He bided his time, and in the shadows, he could do that for as long as he needed. Alti needed to draw him out into the open. With the Groundborn distracted she could do just that. Then in the open she could show Myko why she was a force.
***
Whatever happened in this room had ended very wrong. Alti said that no life would be sacrificed for her plan. It looked like at least thirty men and women lay in heaps on the floor. It looked like a massacre on a battlefield of old.
Nov tried to keep his emotions in check. The danger still swarmed the room. He could mourn and hate himself later. Right now, there were still close to forty people alive on the stage. There were thousands alive outside these walls, and if they didn’t win, no one would be alive come morning.
Nov pushed back against the wall. Alti had moved into the center of the room. He wasn’t sure what she planned, but he had already saved her life once. The white beam of light had zipped past both of their heads by a hair. The light made no sense, and whoever these people were, they could throw it like an infantry man of old threw spears. Nov didn’t like it. That they could kill him so easily left a bad taste in his mouth.
Nov stepped over bodies to get to the stage area. The stage had provided the higher nobles with a place to hide away. Nov almost let the hollow feeling in him subside. These fuckers had allowed this. Sure, Nov had turned the crank and allowed the Groundborn into Sera. He lit the wick, but it was these assholes that had been building the wick for decades.
Even as the city crumbled to its knees, only one man pulled his sword from its sheath. A man, whom Nov hadn’t had a good look at before darting into the shadows, but whoever it was had to be a brave soul, maybe the last brave soul in Sera.
Nov stepped over another body. He didn’t know the person below his boots, but the pity still bit into him. No matter how much he wanted to put the blame elsewhere, he couldn’t. Yes, the people of Sera had failed themselves, Nov’s job remained to protect them. His words to Earl, on that fateful frozen morning said he would perish before letting Sera fall.
So many things had changed since then. Soldiers had dwindled into the hundreds. Nobles made promises of coin to the middle-class citizens, and those bastards tried to gobble it up around every corner. The poor became poorer, and where no slums had been before, they popped up in droves.
Those weren’t the biggest changes for Nov, however. The biggest changes happened muc
h more recently. Earl had called for a patrol party, something about activity in the forest. Men died on that battlefield, including Earl. That left Nov alone, for the first time since his parents had passed. That left Nov with his first big decision, and he made it. His first decision turned out to be a total fuck up on his part.
Nov rounded the pillars to the stage and took the steps two at a time. The man with the sword, guarding the Lady Duchesses, turned opposite Nov, but Nov didn’t need to see his face to know him.
“Last person in Sera that I expected to be wielding his sword.” Nov stepped up next to Hamms.
Hamms tilted his head to look at Nov. “Glad you could join us,” he said. “Don’t happen to know what fucker was on that wall tonight do you?”
Nov knew the answer to that question. Instead of telling Hamms he shrugged. No need to fight amongst themselves before taking out the Groundborn.
“Well, I suppose you want to take the last few of these ugly bastards out?” Hamms asked.
“Let’s surround them and show these abominations what the city of Sera is about,” Nov replied.
Hamms gave a chuckle. “The city of Sera is full of cowards, let us just show them what the tip of a sword is all about.” Hamms moved from the steps, not waiting for a reply.
Nov moved the opposite direction. Fifteen Groundborn were formidable foes, and Nov and Hamms had to be careful.
Hamms stepped in making sure the creatures heard him approaching, drawing attention away from Nov. Nov took the cue and stepped up behind one of the ugly fuckers and drove his steel right into its shoulder blades. The creature grunted but did not show pain. It turned, taking a swipe at Nov’s legs, but Nov had fought the bastards before, he knew the drill. He jumped back and brought his sword out of the muscled back. He lunged forward after the claw found only open air and drove the tip of the sword through the sinewy neck. The Groundborn collapsed to the floor.
***
Alti stepped out into the open, following Nov’s attack on the Groundborn. Myko fired a few more darts, but now the odds were even. She had time to locate him in the thrall of bodies, and now it was time to match power. Alti threw a dart, not expecting to hit Myko, but trying to direct his attention from her. Myko fired back missing her head. Not as willful as he had once been.