by CT Knight
I hit the ground and drew my gun, hoping the sound of my shoes on the basement floor didn’t draw any unwanted attention. It looked like it was to be an underground parking garage. I was just glad there weren’t a lot of objects to hide behind. Mostly because I didn’t want any surprises. I already had one: there was no one there. I gave John the same look as before.
“I didn’t say it was here, did I?” He was getting defensive.
“How about if you tell me where it is so I can quit looking at you like you don’t know what you’re doing?” It probably wasn’t a good idea to antagonize him any further. But I couldn’t help feeling frustrated and just a little bit anxious. I didn’t have super wolf abilities. And it would take far less to kill me than a silver bullet. I thought about reminding him of what was at stake but kept quiet. He knew. There was no reason to bring it up again.
John took careful steps, his hand brushing against the cement wall that held the dirt back around the basement. He was searching for something his nose couldn’t find. I almost ran over him at his sudden stop.
“There.” John pointed forward as he glanced over his shoulder at me. “Are you ready?”
“For what?”
“I couldn’t say for sure, but there could be a lot of them.”
I dug my heels in, gun up. John stepped toward the wall and disappeared behind it. I followed him, keeping a safe enough distance that if I had to fire a shot, it wouldn’t be at him. The bullets would be regular until I spoke the right words. It would take silver ammo to do any real damage to him but that didn’t mean a bullet in the back would be a pleasant experience. And he was already irate with me.
Walking through illusions— true illusions— not the stuff that’s typical in magic shows— was a very strange experience. One I didn’t care much for. It felt like water, electricity and a hair dryer all moving over my body. The sensation made it hard to keep my bearings straight. My senses were scrambled from trying to figure out what earthen material it was they were being bombarded by. Unfortunately, magic wasn’t entirely of Earth. We had all the right ingredients for it but the combinations it took were never intended for use on this plane.
The walls of the tunnel interior were completely smooth and polished. I knew they hadn’t used a tunneling machine because, as efficient as those things were, they were still sloppy when it came to flawless walls. And they certainly didn’t give them a polished shine afterwards.
“You hear that?” John asked.
“I don’t hear anything,” I told him. But I could feel something. It was that same buzzing in my head. It didn’t just happen when I used magic, it happened when I was around high concentrations of it. It was the only good thing to come from the warlord. Like an extra sense. It had, sometimes, alerted me to an attack. The ritual for the Chaos Bringer must have been dense with the stuff because my head felt like it was resting on a jackhammer.
I took a second to lean against the wall just to keep my balance.
“What’s wrong with you?” John asked. It was less the voice of concern and more of a coach, annoyed at one of his players for messing up a play.
I waved him off. The warlord was getting worked up in all of that magic. A nervous rock was forming in the pit of my stomach. I was fairly certain he couldn’t get out unless it was me who used the magic. But I’d never been around anything this big before. Other world-ending events didn’t usually need masses of people huddled together all focused on the same goal. Things were about to get very interesting or I was just going to have a restless spirit banging in my skull till this was over.
“What are you hearing?” I asked, eager to get anything else to focus on.
“Sounds like chanting. There’s a large group up ahead but a few smaller voices even closer.”
We kept moving forward until we hit a set of steep stairs leading farther underground. Most days I like New York bedrock. It was great for buildings and earthquakes. Fortunately, we only had buildings to worry about. That night, I was not a fan of the stuff. Its strength meant we could go down farther and not have to worry about cave-ins. Seems like a good thing until you have to deal with all of the weird stuff that goes on under the big city streets. Stuff like Acolytes of Chaos and their summoning sacrifices.
John stepped down the stair case with little trepidation. I took my time. Being human meant a shorter lifespan—One I wasn’t eager to make any shorter.
I got to the bottom of the stairs just in time to see John charging at two Acolytes who, my guess was, were playing guard. Both their heads were down and they were joining vocally in the larger crowd of chanters up ahead. Neither of them had weapons as far as I could tell, making for fairly useless guards. They never saw John coming. He didn’t even bother shifting.
John Wallace was a decent fighter without the werewolf side. It was a skill he prided himself on. A few solid combinations and one guard was down. A swift elbow to the face and down went the second. The Acolytes came from all walks of life and manner of people. I imagined most of them to be about as average or bad as the majority of regular people when it came to hand to hand confrontations. If the whole ordeal was to be one on one or two on two fights, it would have been easy. But whether or not they were any good at throwing kicks or punches, they did have the numbers. That was an understanding I hoped John Wallace had.
I heard the shouts and the chants well before I could see who was making them. We stepped into an open cavern, its walls and floor just as smooth as the tunnel we came through.
“Pretentious,” John started.
I ignored the rest of his comment, though he was right. The place looked like a warlock’s grand gallery. The polished surroundings and torches lit up the space. I didn’t know if it was necessary for the summoning or if it was just Acolytes grand-standing. Either way, it was irritating.
We both eased down to the floor. It had a ramp curving down along the wall and leading to a large mass of Acolytes all surrounding two figures in the middle and one wooden post dead center of the floor.
“Sasha,” I whispered. She was chained to the post by her upraised arms. Her head hung down down, and from our vantage, I couldn’t tell if she was breathing. I scanned the rest of the floor, searching for the sister. No one else was there. The second figure in the middle space paced back and forth, keeping the crowd around them riled and excited.
I recognized his voice. It was the Prime Acolyte.
“Brothers and sisters!” Prime said. “Tonight, we bring this world what it so richly deserves. What it has clamored for since the first days. All living things go this way and that, each of them coming to blows with their neighbor. Is it not chaos?”
The crowd cheered their agreement.
“Then who are we as servants of the Bringer and fellow beings of the planet—this very realm— to deny our brethren that which they most desire?”
The crowd cheered even louder as Prime brandished a knife.
“This is bad,” I said.
“Then let’s get down there.” John was already shifting.
“There’s too many of them,” I said. “We need a better plan than guns blazing.”
“I know what a blood ritual looks like, Pendragon,” John said. “They kill her or cut her, either way, she bleeds and they start saying the right words—boom— world ends and I don’t get paid.”
He was right. Of course he was right. But why was Sasha the only one down there? Where was her sister? I was losing count of how many times this whole thing had started unraveling. Too bad I didn’t have time to calculate the number in my head before John rushed down.
I took a breath and charged in after him. His nose hadn’t been wrong yet.
CHAPTER 15
John had killed two of them and was onto his third before I’d made it halfway down the curved ramp. When he had come at me earlier, it was more methodical and planned out. He was also talking. But down there, in the crowd of Acolytes, he just cut loose. It was a scary sight to see a super charged werewolf g
o off with no hesitation. It was also a quick reminder of who and what I was teamed up with. Still, better them than me.
“Get the unbelievers!” Prime shouted.
I knelt and took aim at the nearest Soul Ripper holder. I did not want to deal with those things if I could help it. I didn’t bother with any incantations for the bullets, which seemed somewhat of a waste. But as far as I could tell, all of the Acolytes were normal humans. Some of them might have been skillful in the magic arts but there were no beings of the veil in the crowd.
I took my shot and put one right in the chest of the Acolyte rushing me. His knife hit the floor before he did. For a split second, I thought about saving the bullets and going for the Soul Ripper. The warring lights of Heaven and Hell might have helped to take out groups of Acolytes at a time. It was possible that they would drive them violently insane, too. And since the plan was to take them out or chase them off I decided against it. It was also possible John would be affected and frankly, I didn’t want to have to see that thing from Hell looking at me if I didn’t have to.
“Arthur!” Sasha yelled. The gunshot must have woken her up. It was a relief, knowing she was alive. I fired two more shots at nearby Acolytes, trying to make my way toward her. It was a silly attempt. We were two against too many. I glanced at John who threw one Acolyte into another. I should have let him worry about himself.
My feet suddenly felt heavy. I looked down to find them stuck in mud. Mud that definitely wasn’t there before. A quick glance forward and I spotted the geomancer. She must have been weak with the magic because she had to maintain the spell. Masters were a one and done thing. The land didn’t change back unless they commanded it to. I took aim at her then noticed another Acolyte rushing at me. This one had a Soul Ripper. Like I said, those things could be bought wholesale.
I focused on the knife and noticed etchings. It may have been designed for one major task but it had been infused with more. I tried a theory.
“Esaeler renwo!” I yelled straight at the weapon.
The blade jerked from the Acolyte’s hand, launching into the air. The chain was a pleasant surprise as the Acolyte went with it. From there I commanded the Soul Ripper to fly past the geomancer, banging the two Acolytes together and taking them both out of the fight.
The ground became solid again, and I continued forward, firing a few more rounds at the hooded figures. From that close to the crowd, it was hard to miss.
“Cowards!” Prime yelled. “Unbelievers!”
I turned to see several members of their order rushing up the walkway toward the exit. They may have worshipped chaos but violence and death clearly did not sit well with them—especially when it turned in their direction.
John tackled an Acolyte to the ground, saving me from being impaled on a a spiked mace. No magic but still a death dealer. He clawed out the man’s throat and snarled at me.
“Pay attention!” he yelled at me before moving through the rest of the group. My guess was he didn’t like having to watch my back, not while he had his own to look out for.
I emptied my pistol’s magazine, taking out a few more and wounding others. It was times like these I really regretted not getting that unlimited magazine. It constantly pulled in the ether from the air and formed bullets. A genius spell infusion. It was also very expensive but in hindsight, it would have been a worthwhile investment. Instead I ran around in situations like this with two magazines. A total of eighteen bullets and each of them costly.
“Use a fire spell or something!” John shouted before catching a knife between his teeth. He jerked the connected chain, pulling the Acolyte toward him. Werewolf hands grabbed the cult follower and John flicked his head. The knife between his teeth sliced the Acolyte’s throat. Then John threw the chaos worshipper over his head and onto two others. I saw no lights from above or below. It was just a regular blade.
“Arthur!” Sasha yelled again, pulling at her chains. I fired one shot at an oncoming Acolyte then rushed to her.
Even chained up and a little disheveled, she was still a stunner.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, already trying to figure the chains.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think so.” There was a look in her eyes that said she was happy to see me. It was the kind of look that all men wanted from a pretty girl.
“What’s going on? Where’s your sister—”
“Arthur Pendragon,” the voice of Prime said from behind me.
I spun around, gun forward. But a chain whipped it from my hand, knocking it to the floor several yards away. What was it with cultists and chains?
“I see you overcame my earlier gift to you. Perhaps it was simply not to your liking?”
“Yeah. I figured a refund was in order.” I positioned myself between Sasha and Prime.
“Your friend is making quick work of the Chaos Bringer’s subjects.” Prime gestured at John who seemed to be growing more feral with each kill. That was one problem with werewolves, especially those who had two wolf forms. In John’s bi-pedal berserker form, his mental faculties lessened the longer he was in it and the more damage he caused. I was surprised he had held out as long as he did. I guessed he and I were similar in that way. Neither of us wanted certain things inside of us getting out.
“Fortunately, my brethren are legion,” Prime continued.
“This isn’t all of you?” I asked.
“Far from it.” He rushed at me with a knife. It was extremely unexpected considering how calm he was.
I side stepped and put a fist into his mouth. The Prime Acolyte spit blood onto the floor and smiled.
“You want a blood sacrifice, start with your own,” I told him.
“I am just a pawn and would gladly offer myself.” He came at me again, swiping the blade. The move forced me back, putting Sasha between he and I. “But I am afraid that I am no more than a lowly creature in a world that will soon bow before my lord. It is her blood the Chaos Bringer requires.” Prime removed a silver bowl from his robe and placed it under Sasha’s feet. “You cannot stop this, Arthur Pendragon.”
He swiped at the back of Sasha’s arm. She screamed as the blade cut her. Red streaked from the wound and her blood ran down her body, pouring into the bowl.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” I was angry. Not just because it looked like I might actually fail at this. Not only because he’d hurt her. But because it was looking like all this time I’d been played. If there was no sister and Sasha was the one the Acolytes really wanted, why? What was so important about her blood and why did she lie about it?
My haymaker was enough to rattle anyone’s cage. That’s not a brag, it was just a fact. But this one went right through Prime. I heard laughter from behind me. That answered the question of who created the wall we’d passed through.
I spun around to see Prime lifting the silver bowl. He cradled the thing like it was newborn.
“You, again, have my gratitude, Arthur Pendragon. And, again, I offer payment for services rendered. Fall back, brothers and sisters. We have what we came for. Now we must leave the unbelievers with their gift of chaos!”
I turned to John as he swiped through a portal cloud. More clouds popped up in the cavern as those Acolytes who knew the spell fled. Others rushed out of the place on foot. John tried to chase after a few of them. He caught one who I had to feel sorry for. The Lycan was angry and he was going to take it out on anyone he could get in his grasp.
I snapped back to Prime who backed away with the bowl in his hands. “It is too bad you will not live to feel the awe of the Chaos Bringer, Arthur Pendragon.”
“Return!” I yelled. My gun flew up from the floor and back into my hands. It took a long time to make that work in straight English and not backwards like everything else. But when it came to last minute saves, plain old English was usually the order of the day.
I took aim but found no other target except the black smoke. I spun around the cavern, searching for another target or someone who could tell me where they
were going. The only Acolytes left were the dead ones.
John turned to me with a look in his eyes that I was extremely uncomfortable with. His movements were slow, like he was either planning some kind of torture or like he was trying to figure out who I was in his blood rage. I aimed at Sasha’s chains and fired. Her arms dropped to my shoulders and I applied pressure to the knife wound. Prime needed her blood. Now he had her blood. And I didn’t know why. Prime must have cut a major vein as she was bleeding far more than I liked. She might have been close to death’s door if I didn’t stop it. And there was a raging werewolf stomping toward us. I didn’t want to shoot John but I might have had no choice. I just felt bad for his kids.
A red glow lit up from behind me. I looked over my shoulder. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The Chaos Minion was bigger than the first one. It roared whatever threat it had. This time there was no darkness to hide in because the room was too well lit. Using balance magic as before was the only way I knew how to deal with it.
“Can you walk?” I asked Sasha.
She nodded weakly.
“Find a safe place and keep pressure on that wound. I’ll be right back.” I took another look at John who’d turned his sights on to the minion. Good. That meant he wasn’t focused on me and I might actually have an ally in this battle.
It took less focus than before, to get the black and white swirling around my fists. I tried to ignore the buzzing of the warlord, hoping that the combined attack of John and I would make this fight go a lot faster.
Just as before, I launched myself upward, at the minion’s head, trusting that John was right behind me. I’d go high. He’d go low. That was assuming he had enough of his wits to follow my lead. Sadly, plans have a funny way of unraveling. I was on the right track but the minion had other ideas.
The monster’s hand swatted at me in mid-air. And just like John’s attack, I went flying. I remember the impact with the wall but after that, it was lights out…again.