by TR Cameron
Tanyith laughed. “I guess that’s a twin thing. But yeah, it’s bizarre.”
“What’s the play?”
They reached the entrance—an unblocked opening in the wall large enough to drive a truck through—and lingered outside and out of view. “They have an advantage if they stay together, most likely. We have to assume they’re used to working as a team so we’ll have to try to split them up. Naturally, we also have to assume they might have thought of that and planned for it.”
Wymarc nodded and clenched his fists. “So we know nothing. Which is essentially par for the course with you people.” He grinned. “I’m ready.”
Tanyith tilted his head in confusion. “No weapons?” He drew the daggers Cali had given him. They were keen steel he could cast through, which meant he wouldn’t need to release them to apply his magic. It’s a big improvement from having to toss my Sai in the air to use power. The only thing he missed was the defensive capabilities his former knives had possessed but these would be far more effective overall.
The Jehenel patriarch grinned. “I make my own weapons.” He held a palm out and an orb of confined lightning appeared inside it. “Or use what comes to hand. I’m flexible.”
“Whatever you say, man. Let’s do it.”
Cali threw herself to the side as the oversized Draksa’s claws passed through her former position. He screeched and she imagined he was chiding himself for choosing to try to grasp her rather than attack her with his breath weapon. She pointed Defender at his flapping form and channeled an explosion of lightning through it that extended beyond the blade and wreathed the enemy creature in flickering electricity. She bared her teeth in triumph and anticipated his fall.
Unfortunately, the crackling aura was somehow sucked into the armor plates, which glowed briefly. Holy hell, it’s like that absorbent armor from before. Fyre unleashed a line of frost past her, which was the only thing that jarred her into motion. She dove away in time to avoid being skewered by the handler’s trident, which had come in at an escapable angle only because of the Draksa’s intervention. She clenched her jaw in anger and sent to Fyre, His armor might be able to absorb your breath, too.
Her partner raced after the heavier Draksa and replied, So I’ll tear him to shreds in the space between the plates. Just because Plan A didn’t work doesn’t mean they’ve gained any advantage.
As she turned to face the armored handler, her eyes narrowed in frustration. “You know, you could walk away,” she shouted. “Take your pet with you before you both wind up dead. This isn’t your fight, not like it is the others’.”
He laughed and his voice was strangely high, which reminded her of the timbre of his partner’s screech. “Ah, but it is. I’ve given my word.”
Cali sighed. Of course it had to be someone with ethics. Of a sort. “So there’s no chance I can dissuade you?” The wash of flame that erupted from his trident toward her was an obvious rejection. Fine. Be that way. She grasped Defender in her right hand, conjured a shield around herself with her left, and ran forward into the flames. So far, her adversaries had all proven smarter and stronger than she’d hoped. Again. Heaven save me from competent enemies.
Chapter Nine
The two Atlantean leaders had separated when they’d entered the warehouse. Dusty crates were all around, many of them broken into by vandals or thieves, which offered a substantial number of places to hide. Usha had stayed low and moved to the left along the bottom floor. Her partner had launched herself into the air with magic and ascended to the loft that covered half the space and served as the home for even more storage stacks.
They had expected and planned for the dwarf as much as they could, based on the information they’d been able to dig up. She knew he had the ability to conjure magical axes that would return to his hands. The impressive battle-ax he carried was probably magic, too. Gossip said he had been quite a fighter in his day but had given it up to become, of all things, a bartender and tavern owner. Well, I can’t say I fault him for that. It seems like the right trade for those of us accustomed to trouble.
The Dark Elf, though, was a complete surprise. Usha had never really had a reason to explore that part of the community and while she knew one was a member of the magical council, that particular individual walked with a limp and didn’t seem particularly martial, she’d been told. This Drow—who was presumably the person who had blown the doors off the building—was a mystery, and not one she appreciated.
Then again, it’s not like we’re without surprises of our own. The girl and her people had put eyes on the place as soon as they discovered it would be their battleground, but the Atlantean team had already created secret accesses to avoid them. Using illusions, careful timing, and her watchers to watch their watchers, they’d placed traps in two of the buildings. She had hoped that Leblanc would follow her and fall for the one in there but should have realized the girl would stay with her pet. No problem. Anything that winnows the numbers is good for us.
She drew her sword and crouched behind a crate, ready to engage either the dwarf or the Drow the moment they were in range.
Tanyith led the way into the building that held the half-built ship. It appeared to be a large fishing vessel and was probably ninety feet long or more. Its deep hull was mostly complete, and a main level and upper cabin were each partially constructed. It was virtually impossible to see anything other than vague shapes in the darkness. The sound of sloshing came from the water that lapped below the suspended hulk.
“Let there be light,” Wymarc quipped and threw the ball of lightning he held toward the ceiling high above. It cast shadows and served to dispel a little of the gloom and make the surrounding space slightly less ominous. The new illumination revealed an extensive work area that surrounded the vessel in a U-shape at ground level. This was littered with pieces of wood and metal and abandoned tools were scattered here and there. Unfortunately, it also showed a plethora of places the enemy duo might be hiding.
Tanyith pointed to himself and then to the right, and his partner nodded and moved in the other direction. He crept carefully around to the right and continued onto the part of the walk that went behind the boat. Danger accompanied each step as it seemed as if any piece of debris might slide underfoot if he stepped on it wrong. Worse, it was impossible to avoid all of it. His nerves were jumpy and even the noises he made caused him to flinch, in addition to the ambient sounds of the old structure.
If this were a horror movie, this is how the main character would go insane—from all the sounds and all the danger. And a jump scare would come at any moment. He shook his head at his nonsense and almost leapt out of his skin when a shadow shifted on the back wall. His first instinct was to discount it, but fortunately, his second one was smarter. He flung himself to the side to avoid the beam of shadow his foe launched at his face, landed with a clang of metal, and scrambled to his feet.
He cast shields through both daggers barely in time to catch the additional attacks that followed one after the other, as fast as any he had ever faced. While he hoped it meant they’d also be weaker than those that took longer, he somehow doubted it. The assault continued as the enemy stepped into view. In the darkness, he could barely make out the outline of the body enough to tell that it was the female. Everything else remained too vague except the sparkle in her eyes as she delivered more blasts of magic in a relentless rhythm.
Wymarc twisted toward the sound of crashing and realized he’d been played in time to summon a shield and block the burst of lightning that sought his heart. It made sense that they’d play off one another’s moves, even if they weren’t in proximity. The man emerged into the pale illumination cast by his ball of electricity above. He looks younger than I thought outside. Maybe a little past his majority. And he is already smart enough to mess with our expectations by separating from his partner.
“This is not your fight,” the Jehenel patriarch offered. “You could leave along with your—uh, sister, I guess?”
; The man’s voice sounded young as well, filled with equal parts confidence and bravado. “But why would I do such a thing? It’s not as if you’re a threat to us.”
“Do you know who I am?” He walked slowly back to change the angles. Right now, they were too close to the boat for the plan he had in mind.
His opponent scoffed, “Yes. I’m aware, Patriarch. But I don’t care. Your kind has never had much use for those of us on the outskirts. Even if I wasn’t paid well, I’d embrace the chance to kill you on general principles.”
There goes that idea. He raised his hands and conjured a spear of force magic between them. The thread of lightning that would turn any touch into a shock made the object glow blue. Despite not being strictly physical, the wickedly sharp head would still stab through armor and flesh with ease.
His enemy raised his fists, each of which held a heavy cylinder. Large hooked blades snapped out at the top of each and made them look like ice-climbing axes. His foe waded in swinging, and with each slash, an arc of shadow magic burst out toward Wymarc. He blocked with his spinning spear and a single touch was enough to enable him to suck the power of the attack away. He continued to backpedal and darted hasty looks behind to ensure his footing.
The young patriarch didn’t see the traitorous, trapped metal plates that erupted from beneath his feet and careened him back. He landed hard and heard the mocking laughter of his opponent—laughter that drew closer with each second.
Fyre swooped at the enemy handler but the man rolled easily out of the way of his grasping claws. I had to try. The opportunity was there. He’d gone into the maneuver knowing the probability of it being a trap was high, so when the rival Draksa barreled toward him from a blind spot, he was already diving and banking to evade the ambush.
He had a speed advantage on the other creature and was nimbler when it came to changes in direction. But the defensive armor and the increased likelihood of damage from the other’s bigger muscles if they went claw to claw at least evened the odds and maybe pushed them in his opponent’s favor. But I’m smarter. So there’s that.
Deliberately, he led his enemy away from Cali to prevent the other Draksa from making the same assault against her. So far, his foe hadn’t revealed his breath weapon, but it would be stupid to think he lacked one. The Atlantean leader wouldn’t have brought the Draksa and his partner along if they were limited. Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment or it’s so close-range he hasn’t had the chance yet. Either way, removing him before he can do it would be the best option.
Quickly, he looped and made a much tighter turn than his pursuer would be able to emulate. The bigger creature slashed with his claws, and they raked his flesh to inflict a ragged gash. His gaze snapped down to see that the wicked talons were augmented with barbed sheaths above the natural point. He growled, eased behind the enemy Draksa, and discharged his frost breath in an attack he was sure would end the conflict.
When his foe suddenly banked and swooped twice as fast as his initial speed, Fyre realized he was in for more of a fight than he’d anticipated. A fierce burn began to radiate from his wound, a sign of the poison that must have coated the metal on his enemy’s claws, and he thought for the first time that it might not end in his favor.
Zeb’s path led him to a flight of stairs that climbed to the higher level of the warehouse. Nylotte had directed him upward when they’d entered and he complied without hesitation. He held Valerie in a low guard across his body, his left hand on the shaft and his right under the double-sided blade at the top. From that position, he could swing it, smash forward with it, or block in most directions. Knowing the caliber of their opponents, he advanced with more caution than he would have in his adventuring days. Or maybe that’s only age.
The familiar rush of adrenaline was like a visit from a long-absent friend. His decision to step away from a life on the road seeking trouble wasn’t because he disliked it. Quite the contrary, which was the problem. As his passion for fighting had grown, his concern about feeling that way had too. Finally, he’d hung it up before it could overwhelm him.
But still, damn, it felt good to knock the rust off and get back in the game for a round. The fight in the hospital had been barely an appetizer. This battle promised to be the main course. His growing enthusiasm didn’t damage his awareness, though, which proved fortunate since the enemy second in command’s ambush was almost perfect.
He’d expected her to be upstairs but her descent from the darkness of the rafters high above as he stepped onto the upper level was a surprise. Instinctively, he dove and rolled forward, took the brunt of the action on his shoulder, and sensed her weapon whipping through the air above him. He came out of it on his feet and immediately twisted to block. His rising ax caught the spear point inches from his face and lifted it over his head.
Zeb took a quick step in and stomped on Danna’s foot, an attack the woman clearly hadn’t anticipated to judge by her lack of defense. The distraction allowed him to shove a shoulder into her and knock her back, and he whipped the battle-ax in a horizontal chop at her stomach height. She stabbed the spear into the floor to intercept it, and slivers of ice broke away from the magical weapon. In a fluid motion, she swung it up, rotated it to drive his blade into the wooden planks on the other side, and levered the blunt bottom of her weapon at his face.
The dwarf scrambled away in alarm at the discovery that the bottom was also a blade but she managed a shallow cut along his forehead that immediately started to bleed into his eyes. The woman laughed as she spun away from his wild defensive swipe and twirled the spear over her head like she was some kind of helicopter. He slid his hand into the pouch at his waist and yanked out a magical bandage. When he slapped it against the wound, it stuck in place and began to heal the injury. It was faster to apply than fumbling with a healing potion but a little slower on the fix—perfect for such an insignificant injury.
Danna resumed her offensive again and she charged past him as she swung her weapon. He blocked cleanly and snagged her with his riposte, sliced through the black leather she wore, and cut into the flesh on her side. No real damage. She twitched at exactly the right time. Quick little bunny. He ceased his pursuit and dropped Valerie to summon his throwing axes in a single action. They twirled toward her as he bent to retrieve his battle-ax. She spun, lashed out with her spear, and knocked each of them off course barely enough to miss her. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she called.
He nodded. “All right, then. Since you asked so nicely.” He surged forward with a battle cry. Her lips curled in a smile but he couldn’t stop himself from stepping into the trap she’d set. His first reaction as the floor collapsed beneath him was that they must have been in the building for a while to prepare it. His second thought—which came as he broke through to the bottom level of the warehouse—was that they’d done a magnificent job of it. And his third thought, as he pounded into the concrete of the foundation hard enough to make him see stars was, Hey, that’s way too many big crates falling toward me.”
Cali’s charge through her foe’s flame attack had led to a series of exchanges, none of which were determinative. They’d cast magic at each other and she’d sipped from his power as he attacked and she blocked. Ironically, since his trident seemed able to do the same, she was probably simply reabsorbing her power. At another time, she might have found that funny. But now, with five of her friends in danger and the entire city’s future on the line, all she wanted was to see him fall.
He paused occasionally to shoot magic into the air, presumably at Fyre. The Draksa were fighting veiled, so their presence was mainly a sensation—aside from all the cursing her partner was doing in her head. She felt his worry growing after a brief surge she’d interpreted as pain. Are you okay, buddy? she sent.
His response sounded much like a mental growl. For the moment. Might need some help when this is over.
She had to block her concern as her foe lunged with his trident and stabbed it low. When she blocked wit
h Defender, he released the weapon with one hand and launched a lightning blast at her face. She caught it on her dagger, grounded the spell, and released the same attack at him. Again, it was inconclusive as he absorbed it with his trident.
Okay, if I can’t get past the weapon, I’ll have to overload it. She continued to fight but now only to maintain the status quo as she let the power build inside her. When it was ready, she released it in a sustained line of lightning that arced at her adversary. He raised his weapon horizontally to intercept it, and she poured more energy into the attack. Let’s see how much you can take, scumbag.
Nylotte blocked the sounds of Zeb’s progress up the stairs from her thoughts as she crept along the narrow lane that ran beside the wall. With no idea where her enemies might be hiding, she knew at least that her left side was probably safe—unless whoever had taken the ground floor could pass through solid objects. And since she hadn’t learned how to do that yet, she doubted the enemy leaders had either. Like she’d told Cali, she didn’t know everything but she did know considerably more than most.
The thought of Zeb’s mention of knowing her past generated a smile. She liked the dwarf and respected that he’d done his homework exactly as she had. The two of them would have made quite a pair if they’d met in their respective adventuring days. Her mind snapped to the present as a scent carried to her, something out of place. She paused and focused on it but couldn’t identify what it was. Still, she could tell where it probably came from—about ten feet ahead and from behind a crate.
“How about you come out and we do this like adults?” she called.
The Atlantean leader chuckled as she stepped into view. “Sure. Why not?” Usha wore leather armor with reinforced plates, lightweight but strong. The base layer was black, the dull metal a contrasting scarlet. She held a sword that looked exceptionally sharp and well-used.