“Wardens were serious about their security. Buloke? Isn’t that ironwood?”
“Correct, unless you’re carrying several M112 C-4 demolition blocks in a pocket somewhere, you’re going to need to try the runic combination.”
“How many permutations are possible with the current configuration of symbols?”
“Do you really want me to tell you?”
“Not really,” I said, drawing Sliver. “Energy is energy…right?”
“What are you proposing?”
“Can you run a charge through me and into Sliver?”
“Are you looking to overload your brain?”
“Not my brain,” I said. “This is just like an electrical system. Too much energy and it should overload the circuits causing the lock to open. I doubt they installed runic circuit-breakers.”
“I could cite several flaws with your theory, starting with the most obvious: the energy it would take to overload that door would probably incinerate your poorly functioning brain, not to mention destroy the rhythm of your heart, sending your system into an acute myocardial infarction.”
“We don’t have much of a choice, unless you want to try the combination?”
“The permutations would have us here for several lifetimes.”
“Right,” I said, shaking my head. “Short-circuit it is. Where is the locking mechanism?”
“To the left, one meter from the floor,” Cait said.
I plunged Sliver into the ironwood. Half the blade buried itself in the door before it stopped.
“Pretty soft for ironwood,” I muttered.
“I would imagine it has to do with the properties of the runed blade. Are you certain you won’t reconsider?”
“How much battery power do you have left?” I asked.
“I am at ninety percent.”
“That should be plenty,” I said. “If I go into cardiac arrest, administer defib with a simultaneous medkit.”
“That is not guaranteed to work.”
“Understood, but it’s the best we have at the moment.”
“The charge is prepped.”
I grabbed one of Thorn’s magazines, emptied the rounds into my pocket, and placed it in my mouth, biting down.
“Perfect, let’s do this.”
TWENTY-THREE
Serving as the conduit for runically enhanced electrical energy was one of my brightest moments, visually if not physically. The runes on the door, Sliver, and Thorn erupted with blue light. Ten seconds in, I was screaming around the magazine and hoping for death. Twenty seconds in, I reached for Thorn with my free hand, but couldn’t get to it. By the time I approached thirty seconds, I blacked out.
When I came to, I lay on the floor with the sharp taste of copper in my mouth.
“Defibrillation in three, two,” I heard Cait say from a distance.
“Cait, stop,” I said, weakly. Getting unsteadily to my feet. “How long was I out?”
“Welcome back, Ronin,” Cait said in a relieved voice. “You have been unconscious for eighty-seven seconds.”
“Did it…did it work?” I asked, looking at the ironwood door. “Because I don’t think I can go through that again.”
I pulled on the door, but it didn’t budge.
“Shit,” I said as anger, frustration, and despair crept into my voice. I looked down and realized I must have pulled out Sliver when I fell. The blade was jammed between the door and the floor.
I removed Sliver from under the door and sheathed it. I pulled on the handle and the door swung quietly open.
“It would seem your theory was sound,” Cait admitted. “I still think it was insane.”
“Energy is energy,” I said, my voice slightly raspy. “Let’s go find this fucker.”
The Warden tunnels were significantly older than the service tunnel we had just exited. Guided by Cait, I managed to navigate the network with few switchbacks or detours. After what felt like miles, I faced another rune-covered Buloke door. The runes on this door were inactive, and I could see where the lock had been hacked to pieces. The door was slightly ajar, allowing me to hear the activity beyond it.
I drew Thorn and pushed the door open.
“Hello Ronin,” the man said. “I was actually expecting Grey or maybe Aria. Imagine my surprise when I discovered Division 13 tech pinpointing my location. Just goes to show, technology is a type of magic.”
The man held a large rune-covered handcannon pointed at my chest. I doubted that my dragonscale could stop a round from that weapon. The large storage area had been converted into office, lab, and living quarters. The leftover empty space on the other side of the floor looked like it was being filled by large, black, hazardous waste barrels. I scanned the area and easily counted fifty of them.
“Haran?” I asked.
“In the flesh,” Haran said. “Where are my manners? Drop your weapons on the floor, please. Backup gun too.”
When I hesitated, he fired the handcannon at the wall, three meters from where I stood. The thunderous discharge filled the room, leaving me partially deaf for a few seconds. The wall held a crater two meters in diameter, which glowed a soft blue.
“These are runed dragon round tracers,” he said with an even smile. “My own creation. They’ll go through your dragonscale suit without even slowing down. If you manage to survive getting shot by one of these, there is nowhere on this planet I can’t find you and end you.”
I did as he asked.
The tables around us were large marble slabs sitting atop thick marble bases. Some of the tables were covered with papers and notes. Others held several laptops with different programs displaying chemical diagrams.
Haran was dressed in a well-fitting, dark business suit. I don’t know why I expected a Wordweaver robe. Gold rimmed glasses framed his face, making him look scholarly. He kept his hair short and neatly cut. In other words he looked perfectly average, except his eyes. One glance into his eyes, and I saw the madness gibbering beneath the surface of his normalcy and for the first time since I entered the tunnels—I felt fear.
This was madness that didn’t, couldn’t listen to reason. His only purpose was to watch the world burn and burn with it. Fuck, this was much worse than I thought.
Haran was not the raving lunatic I expected. His insanity was the calm psychotic that coldly evaluates a situation and devises the most horrific solution imaginable.
I realized that the invention of Redrum was practice for him. He was moving on to bigger projects that would make every strain of Redrum, the summoning of a magekilling Tenebrous and every manner of hybrid creature, look like amateur hour.
“Haran,” I said keeping my voice even and modulated. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Did they teach you that in Division 13 training—that voice? Am I supposed to be lulled into submission? What are you going to say next? These are not the droids you’re looking for?”
“I was going to say that there are people being hurt by what you’re doing. You can stop this.”
“Of course I can stop this,” he sneered, raising the hand-cannon and pointing at my face, “but I’m not going to. Do you really think I care people are being hurt? What do you think I’m doing here—running a daycare center? I’m creating monsters. Monsters t
hat will feed on the cattle of humanity. And when they’re done, I’ll create monsters even the magic-users will fear.”
“They’ll stop you, even now people are tracking me and approaching this location.”
“Bullshit, Ronin,” Haran said. “I tracked you from the moment you stepped on the first ramp leading down here. No one is coming. Nice workaround on the door, by the way. For a second, I thought you’d barbecued yourself to death.”
“They’ll be here soon. Why don’t you surrender now while you still can?”
“Please remove your techbrace…slowly,” he said, ignoring me. “I would hate to remove your head from the rest of you. You can’t imagine the mess, but I won’t hesitate to do so.”
I removed Cait and moved to drop the techbrace on the floor.
“No, over here on the table,” Haran motioned with the hand-cannon. “I’ve never had an opportunity to examine such cutting-edge tech. Slow. I know those things have all kinds of defenses.”
I placed Cait on the table gently and he leaned over to take a better look. Nothing happened. My thoughts raced to Tigris. If they got their hands on Haran, the nightmares he could create with their backing and motivation froze my blood.
“This is just like a personal assistant,” I said. “No defenses or things like that. This one just has plain functionalities like calendars and phone numbers.”
“Really,” he said still leaning over. “I’m going to have to take it apart. Sadly, I don’t see much point in keeping you around. This”—he pointed to the techbrace with the hand-cannon—“is interesting. You? Not so much.”
He aimed the hand-cannon at me again.
“”You’re going to regret trying to kill me,” I said. “Why don’t you give yourself up?”
“Trying to kill you?” he asked. “I think you’re more insane than I am. I’m not trying. You’re dead. You just don’t know it yet.”
Cait fired the two discs into his throat. I grabbed Cait and leaped behind a table as he fired his hand-cannon in my direction.
“Whaaaat did youdotomeyoufuck?” Haran said. “Clever…cleeever you bastard. You’re using a delayed audi…audi..auditory fee..feedback signal to inter…interrupt my my speeech.”
“Only way I could think of neutralizing a Wordweaver,” I said over the next round he fired. “If you try to remove them, they’ll explode. No more speaking for you…forever.”
“Nice touch, but you underestimated me,” Haran said without impediment. “I’ll give you full marks for creativity. I’ll even let you remain conscious while I inject you with my new strain of Redrum. So you can have the full experience, you fucker.”
I made my way around the tables keeping low and out of sight. I was trying to work my way back to where Thorn and Sliver lay on the floor.
The Magekiller Page 10