With Silent Screams (The Hellequin Chronicles, Book 3)
Page 35
“Now you’re done,” I said, staggering to my feet and producing a blade of fire from one hand. I felt spent and wasn’t sure that I’d be able to continue the fight at any high level. But with one useless foot, neither would he. I had to end it quickly.
“I say when I’m done,” he shouted and the silver threw itself at me, turning into a solid block as it struck me, knocking me back to the floor.
The air rushed out of me all at once as I fell back toward the ruined floor, gouging myself across the ribs on the jagged edges. All of a sudden the floor beneath me vanished and I fell, connecting with the concrete floor of the basement some fifteen feet below me. Any air that had remained from the attack above vanished as I fought for breath.
“You stay there,” Simon mocked. “I’ll be down in a second.”
The fall had taken whatever energy I had left; I was exhausted and in agony. The previous few days had been one injury after the next, with very little time to heal.
I rolled over onto my back as Simon cursed above me, every step bringing with it fresh horror. I made an approximation of a smile, but my face hurt too much for anyone else to think it was anything other than a grimace. As I glanced to my right, I saw Rean’s body. It was undisturbed and for the briefest of moments, I was sorry that he wouldn’t receive the burial he’d deserved. Then I mentally slapped myself and forced my body to get to a standing position, using a nearby gurney to keep some sort of stability.
I wondered how many people Simon and his friends had murdered in the basement of this house. How many people had died for nothing? Had died in pain and agony? Had died protecting the ones they’d loved? I paused. How many people had died fighting? I closed my eyes and searched outward, trying, hoping, to find something that I could use.
Rean’s spirit was right there, in the room with me. I’d never tried to use the spirit of anyone who wasn’t human, I wasn’t even sure it was possible. But as I absorbed Rean’s spirit into me, I felt the overwhelming strength of a wood troll surge through my body. I crashed back to the ground, hugging myself and screaming as my body began to repair itself, using Rean’s strength to accomplish in minutes what it would have taken days with only my magic.
After it had finished, I didn’t just feel healed, I felt…whole. My body was repaired, but the toll the previous few days had taken on my own spirit had been hefty. Rean’s energy had corrected that.
As before, with Caitlin’s dad, Norman, I knew exactly what was happening and why. I understood how the spirit worked, how my body allowed itself to be healed and nourished by the necromancy. I knew how to control that energy to make myself strong, better. And as Simon was going to find out, a lot more dangerous.
I stood up and felt woozy as more spirits came to my attention. Dozens of them, every single one who had died fighting, died never giving in. There were so many people, so many lives taken. Something inside me reached out to all of them at once and invited them in.
The result was insanity personified as I absorbed them. More and more of them, increasing my power until my body could barely take it. Every movement caused magic to leak out of me, the concrete floor cracking beneath my feet from the power.
“Hey, Nate, miss me?” Simon said as he opened the door.
His foot was covered in a silver boot, which allowed him to walk, albeit slowly, down the stairs toward me. His hands were once again covered in silver. “I’m glad you’re down here, I’m going to take my time with you. I’m going to show you what I used to do to the people we kept here.”
I nodded. “Those people would like a word,” I said and sprinted toward him.
He grinned and threw a punch, but at the last second noticed that my face was no longer a ruined mess and his smile vanished. I avoided the punch and grabbed him around the waist, picking him up off the floor, before my body decided that I had too much energy and released it without me having any say in the matter.
The resulting explosion pushed us both up onto the floor above. I’d tried to control the gargantuan blast of air and fire but it had been as if I were still in Shadow Falls, and I was lucky not to turn the house into a smoking crater. I hit the wooden floor hard, rolling toward the door. My body ached more than I’d remember it did when I’d hit the basement in the first place.
Simon dragged himself back to a standing position. “So, you’ve got some extra juice.” He stood up straight and allowed the silver to flow over his body once more, covering everything but his eyes and nose. “But you can’t possibly think it’s going to be that easy.”
I breathed out slowly and got back to my feet. Necromancy doesn’t have an ability where you can turn the spirit into pure energy to wield like magic, and unlike Hades, I couldn’t just fuck around with Simon’s soul. But I knew what I had to do. And I knew I could do it.
I walked toward Simon with purpose, all the while Simon moved his neck and rotated his shoulders, mocking me, as a grin remained on his face.
When there were only a few feet between us, I stopped and stared at the psychopath before me. “You can come in quietly,” I suggested. “It’s the best way for you now.”
Simon laughed. “I’m going to fuck you up.”
“No,” I said softly, “you’re not.”
I moved my hands behind me and felt the shimmering of power that filled them. The power increased in intensity until it felt as if I were holding something solid in each hand. I swung one hand forward, and was slightly surprised to see a battle-axe down by my feet. The other hand held a jian, a Chinese sword. My soul weapons: a weaponized manifestation of a necromancer’s power.
Simon charged me, expecting the silver that covered his body to be all he would need to beat me.
I didn’t move. I took a deep breath and as Simon got close enough to reach out for me, his hands aiming for my neck, I snapped the axe up in one lightning-quick motion. It caught Simon under the chin and passed up through his skull. The blade didn’t leave a mark, but Simon stopped dead in his tracks, his hands dropping to his sides and his eyes glazing over.
The silver melted off of him, and I kicked him in the chest, knocking him to the floor, where he blinked.
“Soul weapons hurt you without leaving a mark. I’m assuming you can still hear me, although I’m guessing the fact that I went through your brain means everything is really fuzzy.”
Simon blinked again and opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
The jian vanished from my hand, and I rested the battle-axe’s handle against my shoulder. “You should have taken the offer,” I told him and snapped the axe down, burying the blade in the top of Simon’s skull.
CHAPTER 39
Simon had, unfortunately, survived, although his brain had pretty much turned to a form of mushy pudding. He couldn’t speak or do anything that didn’t involve blinking or drooling.
Even though I was exhausted after our battle, I’d driven a comatose Simon to Portland and dropped him off with Rebecca before promptly passing out on one of the sofas that sat in the bar area of the Mill.
When I’d woken a few hours later, Rebecca had informed me that the fighting was over. Galahad and his forces had won. It was pretty much the best-case scenario on all fronts. Unfortunately, no one was allowed through the realm gate, but Father Patterson and Fern had traveled through the gate to try and help anyone they could in Shadow Falls. It made my decision to hang around at the bar an easy one; I wasn’t going to get through a realm gate any other way. Although, after twenty-four hours of sitting around, I decided to be more productive and sat at the bar, nursing a large scotch. Rebecca wasn’t exactly thrilled.
“You could go home,” she said for the hundredth time as she walked past.
“Could do a lot of things,” I told her and knocked back the scotch. “But I’m not going anywhere until I get through that realm gate.”
“And I told you, I’m not letting anyone—”
I poured another scotch for myself and grabbed a second glass, pouring her one too. “Drink,” I said. “Galahad is fine.”
“So why haven’t you left?”
“Because I want to see Simon handed over. I lost a good friend during all of this; I’m not leaving until I know the people I care about are safe. I know you’re anxious to hear about how people are doing, but pacing around and trying to get me to leave won’t help.”
Rebecca sat beside me and knocked the scotch back, pouring a second. “I’m sorry for your friend,” she said and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Simon and his followers are no longer a problem, and I have you to thank for that.”
“Rean too,” I told her. “So, why are you constantly trying to get me to piss off?”
She knocked back the second drink and made a third. “You make me nervous.”
“You think I’m going to hurt Galahad again?”
“Did you know we don’t allow sorcerers in without the king’s personal approval?”
I shook my head, but noticed she hadn’t answered my question. “I assumed we weren’t allowed to use our magic, but I didn’t know we were banned. How did I get in the first time?”
“King Galahad told us the last time you were here in ’77, that if you ever asked to go through again, you were to be allowed. I didn’t like the idea, not after what happened between you, so I fought it when you came. I needed to make sure you were going for the right reasons.”
“Thanks for that. I assume Harrison wasn’t a fan either.”
“He was serious about not letting you in. If I hadn’t been there, you would have stayed put and he’d have suffered our king’s wrath alone. Fighting alongside the king’s guard probably endeared you to a lot of them, showed them you weren’t the bad guy.”
“So, why can’t I go back through now?”
“Because you can’t be the city’s savior. You came in throwing huge amounts of magic around as if it were nothing. You saved people. Galahad has already told them of the aid we received from the great Hellequin. But you won’t always be there. The people have to realize they can’t be saved except by their king.”
“That’s a pretty flimsy excuse,” I told her. “You don’t trust me, do you? Do you think that I’ve set all of this up with Simon? Is that why he’s still dribbling under guard downstairs?”
“No, I don’t think you set this up,” she said and took another drink.
“But?”
“But, I don’t trust you. The power you wield, it’s immense out here; in there you’re basically a god.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not even one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world, nowhere near. But what the hell does it matter anyway?”
“What’s stopping you from deciding you like that power? What’s stopping you from taking that power on a permanent basis?”
“You want a list?” I should have been offended, and truthfully I was a little, but getting angry and showing it wouldn’t do anything to help me in the long run. I held up a finger. “I’m Galahad’s friend, I’m Leonardo’s friend—I don’t want to jeopardize either of those.”
A second finger. “I’m not interested in obtaining power. In fact, I don’t actually like ruling anything, ever.”
A third. “I have a life away from this, one I enjoy, with people who trust and like me. I wouldn’t swap that for all the money and power in the world.”
A fourth. “I’m not a gigantic asshole. Do I need to go on?”
Rebecca smiled slightly and shook her head. “You’re really not interested in power, are you?”
It was my turn to shake my head. “Power is fleeting, and I like not having the responsibility of people who look up to me and need my guidance. Life is simpler that way.”
“You saved a lot of lives by helping.” Rebecca stood and offered me her hand. “Including people I care about. Thank you for that.”
I shook her hand; it felt nice to finally prove to her that I wasn’t the bad guy. “Who told you I was Hellequin?”
“Galahad mentioned it in ’77. I think at the time he was trying to stop me from going after you.”
“Probably worked out for the best,” I pointed out. “So, can I go see my friend now?”
Rebecca nodded. “Give me a few hours, I need to ensure that everything is okay on their end.”
I pushed myself off my stool and stretched. “I’m going to go eat something; can I assume that if I make a sandwich, I won’t be upsetting anyone or get threatened by your staff?”
“Most of my staff think you’re a damn hero already. If you go ask for food, you’re likely to find them happy to assist you.”
I smiled. “In that case, you may want to get that realm gate open sooner, before I eat you out of house and home.”
Six hours later I was standing in the temple in Shadow Falls. Several alchemists were rebuilding the part that I’d ruined, moving huge blocks of stone as if they were weightless.
“Where’s Galahad and Caitlin?” I asked Harrison, who was shouting at some of his men.
He turned around to glare at me. He was missing one of his hands.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Some fucker got too close. I’ll manage. Leonardo said he’d make me a new one, a better one.”
“What about here, what happened in here?”
“There was a hell of a battle. That girl of yours is a tenacious fighter. She took out a bunch of guys without breaking a sweat.”
“And her mum?”
Harrison shrugged. “Don’t know, didn’t see.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Yeah, well maybe it isn’t my place to tell you. You ever think of that, smart guy?”
I wasn’t in the mood to play games. “Fine. So, where is everyone else?”
“Palace. I was meant to be going, but there’s too much to do.”
“What’s happening at the palace?”
He shrugged again. “Go find out.”
“Thanks for your help,” I said with as much sarcasm as possible and walked off toward the still working trams.
“Hey, asshole sorcerer,” Harrison called after me, the acoustics of the temple making his already loud voice boom.
I turned around and readied myself for an argument for whatever reason Harrison had decided.
“This is the one and only time you will ever hear me say something nice about you. You did good. You saved lives. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, you did well yourself. Thanks for keeping Caitlin safe.”
“Yeah, now fuck off, I’ve got people to shout at and not enough time to do it.”
I walked away shaking my head, but the exchange had made me smile. Hopefully I’d proven my worth to Harrison as well as Rebecca. Maybe in the future I wouldn’t have guards watching me when I arrived in the city.
I caught the tram to the king’s district and made my way through the area. I passed dozens of people who were repairing their homes and streets until I reached Leonardo’s house, but found it empty.
About halfway up the steps to the palace, I heard the noise of construction, and upon reaching the top saw the reason. A huge hole sat in the side of the palace and several smaller ones pockmarked the side of the building. Several men and woman were all using alchemy to move brick and mortar around, but everything still had to be set in the correct place and organized with efficiency. It was a job that Leonardo appeared to take to like a duck to very wet liqu
id.
He stood beside a wooden table, with drawings littered across it, shouting orders at people and gesticulating wildly on a regular basis.
“Have you turned into a tyrant?” I asked as I walked up to him.
“I’m surrounded by people who all think they know what they’re doing.”
“Do they know what they’re doing?” I asked.
Leonardo thought about it. “Some do, but I have a vision that King Galahad was keen to recreate and I plan on sticking to it.”
“What’s the vision?”
“Ah well, the palace was partially destroyed in the fighting, so I’ve been tasked with not only rebuilding it and its defenses, but also to make it more efficient. I plan on placing more crystals inside, I have a design that will make them much less unstable and hopefully a lot more capable to provide more than just light.”
“Sounds like a lot to work on.”
“It is,” he said, full of enthusiasm. “I’ve also got to redesign the Tesla coils; they didn’t maintain a charge for long enough.” He waved his hand dismissively. “But weaponry is hardly at the forefront of my mind.”
I searched the area around us. “Where’s Antonio?”
“He’s helping some families below rebuild. He made some friends during our time with them all and suggested that people should always help their neighbors. He’s also involved in training some of those who live there in more advanced uses of their alchemy.”
“You don’t sound convinced of the wisdom in this.”
“I’ll be convinced once they manage not to destroy their surroundings every few hours as they practice. They’ve rebuilt some of those roads three or four times since the fighting ended.”
“Can’t make an omelet,” I said.
Leonardo glared at me. “You appear to be smiling at my discomfort.”