The Piledriver of Fate (Titan Wars Book 2)

by Samuel Gately

  Kir the Attraction and his crew had staked out some ground on the right flank. Van was headed that way when he saw giant claws grip the edge of the pit. A dragon scrambled into view and bellowed. Several white-eyed titans collected around the scaly nightmare.

  A jobber slammed its rocky fist into Van’s side. Another dove on top of him. Van shook loose just as some sort of giant, hissing spider landed on him, ripping his shirt with its sharp talons and clawing his back. Van pushed it away. It turned grape-like clusters of white eyes away from him and tried to scramble off, but Van caught a limb and snapped it in his hands. The spider shrieked, twisted its leg loose from Van’s grip, and fled.

  Van’s side ached. The battlefield was getting dark quickly. He pushed off another pair of jobbers, and a black-masked titan jumped at him. Van dodged to the side, grabbed the titan’s collar, and slammed his head against the base of a large angel monument. He followed with an elbow drop directly to the titan’s temple. Then he reached down, seized the titan by the head, and snapped his thick neck. The titan disappeared, leaving Van’s hands thick with dust.

  Van glanced around. He’d made it nowhere near Kir the Attraction. Van was pressed back almost to the orderly ranks of his soldiers, their polearms slanted towards the pit. Captain Jahrom stood amidst the wicked fence of sharp points, loudly extolling his men to hold their ground.

  Van watched a Nether titan break out of the scrum and stride fearlessly up to Jahrom. The captain swung his sword at the titan’s massive leg as his men surged forward thrusting polearms at the titan’s face. The titan laughed and swatted away Jahrom’s sword. Then he lifted Jahrom into the air by his breastplate and crushed his helm with one hand, spraying blood on the ranks behind him. The titan used the corpse to bat away the other soldiers even as half of them turned to run. The titan hurled Jahrom’s corpse at the fleeing soldiers and pushed forward into their shattered line.

  Van caught up to the barreling titan with two furious steps. He threw both hands over the titan’s shoulders from behind and drove a knee into his spine. The crack of his back breaking was audible even over the din of battle. Van added an elbow smash that shattered the titan’s collarbone as he fell to the blood-slick grass.

  “Finish that up for me,” Van said grimly to the soldiers. Several of them, tears streaming from their eyes, were already charging forward to bury their polearms in the titan’s neck. As the titan’s body turned to dust, Van spotted the corpse of Captain Jahrom crumpled at the feet of his troops. Van shook his head. Jahrom would never deliver Van’s autograph to his child. Van might not have called Jahrom a friend, but the captain had stood bravely at his end, putting himself between the invaders and his home and loved ones.

  “Orders, sir?” a saluting soldier asked Van. Another brave one, to remain in the face of such horrors, but he trembled as Van’s gaze fell on him. Van knew his eyes were glowing golden in the growing dark.

  “Retreat,” Van said. “Take the line back to the edge of the cemetery. This is no longer your fight.” The beasts cruising the battlefield were too strong and too deadly. The soldiers, and really all of Empire City, had been dragged into this fight among giants without the tools to survive. “Light the torches as you go.”

  The gore that had been Captain Jahrom was still on Van’s boots as he turned back to the horrors at the center of the battlefield. He heard a scream and saw Brutalizer sailing into the pit, thrown by a laughing trio of titans that could only be Obliteration. Did that mean Brutalizer would come back on the Nether side for the next round? If there was a next round? An endless march of Nether combatants continued to surface. Van’s forces were being overrun. Dark clouds had squatted directly overhead and the ground was slick mud.

  Van was driven back from the pit by another wave of heavy jobbers. Then torches flared up across the battlefield. The Nether troops snarled and stepped back as Van grinned. These fuckers were too used to the shadows. He’d arranged some light for them beforehand. Lanterns on tall poles scattered throughout the cemetery and connected by oil-soaked strings. Van surged forward and pummeled the golems who shielded their eyes. As though in protest, however, the clouds burst open and hissing rain struck the flames.

  Harlan and Bearhugger’s personal battle rolled past Van as he pushed forward again. He fought beside Titus for a few beats as they crushed a handful of snarling orcs. Then leapt back as a plume of fire shot across the battlefield. The Nether had brought their own flames in the form of a fire-breathing dragon. At least one titan was engulfed and ran away, swatting at the fire that clung to his clothes. Van lost Titus in the ensuing scramble and found himself looking up at three approaching titans, masked and hooded. Obliteration surrounded him.

  Van threw a fist into one of the titan’s guts, then cracked his head into another’s face. His vision swam and he was slammed to the ground by the third. In the dark, despite the lanterns, he couldn’t tell which titan was which. Boots fell on his face faster than the rain. He tried to escape and was kicked back down. He heard a snap and felt a flash of pain—his nose was broken. Another kick cracked a tooth. He rolled to the right but they stepped with him, slamming their boots into his kidneys. Van roared in pain. He opened his eyes a moment and saw the Nether army pushing his soldiers even farther back. The lines were breaking.

  Then suddenly an enormous titan appeared behind Obliteration’s leader, placed a huge hand on his shoulder, and hurled him across the battlefield. The titan’s arm swept over Van and slammed into another of the three, crushing him to the ground. Then the massive titan seized the sole standing member of Obliteration. One hand gripped his neck. The other ripped his arm off at the shoulder like a twig. As the corpse melted into dust, the Landshaker leaned over Van, his thick beard dripping rain onto Van’s face. “Rise, brother.” He extended his hand.

  Van spat out a chunk of tooth and took the Landshaker’s hand. The titan pulled him to his feet. Just behind him, a group of ONWC titans attacked the Nether army, pushing them inwards. Hugo Marky and the Butcher gang-tackled a white-eyed titan as Dim Hurgen threw his body into a troop of orcs. Great Golden Ghost whirled around, his fists extended, punishing the other ONWC titans almost as badly as the Nether creatures. And there were others. Grim Tidings and Hurt Factory, both Headlock titans, charged into battle. A titan dressed as a lumberjack and armed with an axe advanced into a company of jobbers with massive swings that shattered stone. The surge of ONWC titans might have forced the Nether creatures all the way back to the pit and cleared the cemetery, but the flaming breath of a giant dragon forced them to scatter.

  “I am late,” Landshaker told Van, as calmly as if they were still in King Thad’s steam room. “I had my own fight to settle. One day I will tell you of it. But the ONWC is no more, and we are here, general. I see you saved some of the fun for us.” His mouth twisted into a cruel grin as he looked around. “Let them see the mistake they have made by stepping into my path. Finally, no referees for my enemies to cower behind.” He gave Van’s shoulder a painfully strong squeeze, then tore off right at the dragon guarding the edge of the pit. The land trembled as he ran.

  The dragon took a huge breath and sprayed another gout of fire directly at the charging titan. The Landshaker ran straight through it without slowing. The flames broke against his incredible bulk, splashing out and up with searing heat. The Landshaker emerged from the fire, seized the dragon by the neck, locked his massive arms around it, and squeezed until it snapped. He roared down at the broken beast as it turned to swirling dust, then he looked back to Van. Half of his clothes had burned off, his beard was on fire, and his eyes glowed crimson. He nodded at Van, then charged off after a company of black-masked titans.

  The Nether army continued rising. More jobbers, another wave of orcs, white-eyed men carrying barbed ropes and skewers. The titan Creature in his spiked armor stood at the front of this wave, grinning through his black mask. He directed a gang of toothy orcs to the left and right. Van started forward to meet him, but was pulled back by a meaty
hand. Eagle strode furiously past him. “I’ll handle this,” he said coldly. “We’ve always known it would come to this.”

  It struck Van as a somewhat ridiculous statement, but he was happy to step aside and catch his breath. Lightning flashed across the cemetery as the two met and Eagle threw a spiked shoulder into his brother’s chest. Van was unable to see what happened next as a band of goblins snagged his arm in a barbed lasso.

  He fought loose, tearing through some skin, but was knocked down by the Patriot backing into him. Jaygan the Dragon Reynolds bore down on Jack, the Patriot’s board in his hands. Jaygan whispered, “Little Jackie, back for more.” Van pushed the Patriot, launching him back into Jaygan.

  Van kicked over a tombstone and chased after the goblins. He glanced at the pit as he ran across the fiery ground. Another dragon had surfaced, but still no OverLord. The wave that had come with Creature were ranging out and had Van’s titans stepping back. Only the addition of the ONWC titans were keeping them from being run right out of the cemetery. And Nether fighters of all varieties still poured up and out of the pit. A white-eyed titan ripped a lantern pole from the ground and swung it around the defenders, causing them to retreat farther.

  The goblins outdistanced Van and he turned back. A limping dragon lurched at him. Jaygan’s pet, back for revenge. She bared glistening teeth as her head darted at Van with reptilian speed. Van ducked the snapping jaws. The dragon lashed him with her heavy tail. Van fell back and slammed into a flaming tree. He rolled away from its burning branches and left the snapping dragon with a mouthful of embers. Then he grabbed the trunk and swung around to attack from the other side. Harlan and Bearhugger rolled past him, still locked in a fierce tangle of knuckles and elbows. Van drove a fist into the dragon’s flank.

  Two jobbers emerged from the smoky gloom and locked onto Van from behind. Stone fingers dug into his sides as he struggled. The dragon closed in, spitting charcoal and trembling rage. She approached Van with her mouth wide. Van took a step back, and the dragon’s eye exploded. The silver spear sticking out of the socket gleamed in the firelight. Van swung his arms forward, smashing the jobbers together and shattering them into shards of clay. He raised a hand in thanks to the valkyrie flitting above him.

  They soared like eagles across the battlefield, raining silvery bolts on the Nether creatures and driving them back. Van had known they wouldn’t stay on the sidelines for this one. He watched them swoop and dive as the rain pattered on his brow and the battle carried on, furious and thick, Nether troops continuing to climb from the pit. He tried to spot Kyle. The fighting was too intense. The valkyrie helped the defenders hold, but winged Nether creatures, like lizards with bat wings, rose to attack them. Van wiped clotted blood from his broken nose and chin, drew a deep breath, and flung himself back into the fight.

  He charged the Nether titan who was swinging the long flaming lantern pole, lowered his shoulder, and rammed him to the ground. The blazing pole rolled across the muddy ground, throwing shadows all around. A group of masked humans leapt on Van’s back and a doglike demon snapped at his legs. Van kicked the demon away. The pole-wielding titan found his feet and wrapped his arms around Van’s waist. Van pounded on his back but the titan didn’t even seem to notice. A masked human charged Van, axe raised over his head, ready to split Van’s skull. A spear point burst from his chest in a gout of blood and gore. The man wheezed through his open chest and collapsed. Alkylis landed in front of Van.

  Van grunted at her, then picked up the titan locked around his waist, hoisted him upside-down, and drove him to the ground in a vicious piledriver. The titan’s neck snapped loudly and he turned to swirling dust that the rain beat into the grass.

  “You watching over me?” Van muttered to Alkylis.

  “You wish,” she shot back. “Just a lucky shot… for you.” She grabbed the spear and spread her wings and took off. She was immediately waylaid by bat creatures. Van absently reached a hand and seized a passing goblin by the arm. He launched it up into the sky, knocking one of the bat lizards to the ground. Alkylis rolled her eyes at him and dispatched the others. She flitted down next to Van.

  “What made you show up?” Van asked.

  “You don’t do much right, titan, but you throw a hell of a party.” She pulled another silver spear off her back and flung it in the direction of the pit. It arched high above the battle, a silver bolt against the stormy night sky, and skewered a panther covered in white skull tattoos that was rising from the Nether. As the creature howled and fell back into the pit, a white-eyed titan hauled himself up in the shadows beside it. Lightning crackled across the sky and the wind rose to a scream. The OverLord clambered to his feet on the churned muddy ground and surveyed the field like an overseer inspecting progress on the harvest.

  Van flexed his shoulders and stared at the son of Malachisin. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said to Alkylis, “my date is here.” She rolled her eyes again and shot off across the cemetery.

  The battle near the pit seemed to part as Van stomped across the muddy ground towards the OverLord. Van’s heart beat like a smith’s hammer. The OverLord stared at Van, the lightning overhead flashing in his white eyes. To Van’s left, a Nether titan ripped a tree out by its roots, upturning a tombstone, and flung it into the air, knocking a valkyrie to the ground. Van kept walking, but each step felt heavier than the last. He could turn away, leave this fight to someone else. But his boots were covered in the blood and gore of other titans and men who also could have turned away. He trudged forward.

  The OverLord glared at Van. He pushed aside white-eyed titans and nightmarish creatures with his giant, leather-gloved hands. Van saw Saint creeping behind the Nether titan’s massive legs. When he was just a few feet away from Van he said in his low growl, “Join me, Van. This world is not for us. It needs to end.” He peered into Van’s eyes and clenched his fists as though Van had already refused.

  All around the two titans, the light of scattered fires glinted off weapons, wet leaves, and slick marble tombstones. Winged shapes tangled above the battlefield, and low, fat storm clouds rained down on everything and everyone.

  “No,” Van answered. “It doesn’t. This world is not for you.”

  The OverLord charged Van. He was too fast for his size, too big for his speed. Van stumbled backwards. The OverLord seized him by the throat. Van put a boot on the OverLord’s mighty gut and tore himself away, clutching at his battered windpipe. Van dodged to the side, but the OverLord had anticipated the move and punched him hard in the side of the head, knocking Van down. Once he was down, the OverLord raised a heavy boot and kicked Van in the temple. Van fell sideways, sinking half his face into the mud.

  Van pushed himself up. A flash of lightning blinded him as he tried to dig the muck from his right eye. He ducked instinctively as the OverLord’s mighty left hook sailed over his head. The OverLord followed with a right uppercut to Van’s gut. Then he raised his heavy hands above his head and landed a crushing double axe handle on Van’s back. Van scrambled away, moaning in pain, but at least managing to kick Saint as he searched for firm footing.

  Van whirled around quickly and slammed his knuckles into the OverLord’s chin. The white-eyed titan spat on the slick grass, smiled grimly, and pressed towards Van. How do you fight an enemy that feels no pain? The OverLord sprang at Van and seized his neck again, this time with both hands. Van clawed at the OverLord’s gloves as his air was cut off. He kicked aimlessly as the larger titan lifted him off the ground. He glanced down frantically at his feet and saw Saint urinating on his leg, but he had no air to swear at the little shit. He beat on the OverLord’s arms to no effect, tried pulling again at the titan’s relentless and tightening fingers on his throat. He gasped but nothing entered his lungs. His throat was completely blocked. He thrashed and flailed in wild panic. His vision swam. He saw only the watery image of the OverLord’s somber face.

  “Son of Malachisin!” It was Kyle’s voice. Her wings beat the air above them as she stared down a
t the OverLord. A lantern hung from her belt, illuminating her pale face. In one hand she held the copper urn; in the other a hooked silver knife. Van had never seen a more beautiful sight.

  The OverLord’s grip loosened as he turned his white eyes up at the urn. Van desperately sucked in air through his swollen throat, his feet still dangling. “Return my property, valkyrie. Fly above this mess. You were not made to guard these lands, only those above.”

  “The world has changed, demon,” Kyle replied. “These ancient grudges mean nothing. Slither back down your hole or be destroyed.”

  “I think not.” The OverLord tightened his viselike grip on Van’s neck. “The world can change again. I am owed it.”

  Kyle must have sensed Van was choking to death because she didn’t hesitate. She pressed the sharp point of the knife against the urn and scraped the blade down against the metal. The squeal of the knife against the urn was like a scream. The urn tore like paper—ash and white light spilled out like blood. The OverLord gasped and turned to watch. The battles around and above them seemed to slow and quiet. Kyle finished the cut and the urn crumbled in her hands, then fell to the ground, nothing more than dust and copper shreds. As the last flakes of ash and copper filings landed on the mud, a bright light flared and went out immediately. The remains of the urn and its contents lay on the ground, a dead thing.

  The OverLord stared at the broken urn. “You have sealed the fate of your race, valkyrie,” he said. “You will die with the rest.”