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Lies Ripped Open

Page 32

by Steve McHugh


  “And who are you?” Corath asked.

  Erebus stepped forward, showing the darkness that now covered my face.

  “A nightmare,” one of the men gasped, immediately stepping back, fear on his face.

  “My name is Erebus,” he said. “You should not have killed Lir. You should not have attacked Felix. You should not be here.”

  Corath pointed to the Reavers close to the Minster doors. “You four go after the others,” Corath told them before leveling the tip of his spear at Erebus. “The rest of you. Kill him.”

  Only the four Reavers moved as they ran from the building.

  “It it helps facilitate matters, I’m not a full . . . nightmare,” Erebus said, almost sighing the final word. “I probably will be easier to kill than someone who had complete control over their host.”

  Violence sounded from outside of the church. But inside, no one moved.

  “Cowards,” Erebus sighed and flung a whip of flame at the nearest man, it wrapped around his head as the victim struggled, burning himself every time he tried to grab hold of the fiery whip. Erebus yanked the man forward with all of his strength, pulling the Reaver from his feet and straight into a flaming blade that cut his head from his shoulders in one movement.

  The next few seconds were a whirlwind of brutal efficiency. Nightmares showed sorcerers just what they could do, the very best they could be. It was why nightmares were so seductive; the power they held up for you to see was an addictive substance. Combine that with an ability to heal that even a werewolf would be impressed with, and immense strength, and you have a being that is lethally dangerous.

  Erebus caught one Reaver—one of the men who’d arrived with Sophie—in the chest with a blade of air, which quickly changed to engulf and crush the man. His broken body dropped to the floor alongside the corpse of his brethren.

  Erebus turned and blasted a third Reaver through the double doors, destroying them, along with a large portion of the pews that sat in front of them. Three Reavers down in less than two minutes, and Corath hadn’t even moved.

  “It’s true, these new Reavers are nothing more than useless muscle,” Erebus said. “These are not people who took the Harbinger trials. These are not warriors. They’re thugs.” He pointed at Corath. “And you are their leader.”

  “Kill him,” Corath screamed.

  Earth exploded from beneath Erebus’s feet, throwing him back toward the pulpit, but he used air magic to land upright.

  “You have an earth elemental,” Erebus said, almost absentmindedly.

  The earth elemental tore chunks free from the Minster wall and threw them at Erebus as if it were nothing. He dodged them, but was forced into the reach of a werewolf, who hit Erebus in the side of the head before grabbing him and throwing him across the room, where he slammed into the wall.

  Pain rocketed through his mind, although Erebus gave no outward sign of feeling anything as he crashed back to the floor. Before he could move, a fourth man sprinted toward him, enveloping him in massive arms, and running through the stone wall without even stopping.

  The man was a siphon, and from the agony that raged through Erebus’s mind, it was draining his power at an alarming rate.

  The siphon stopped running and released his grip on Erebus, who took a step back, removing the blade of lightning from the siphon’s chest. The siphon crashed to his knees and with one sweep of the nagamaki, Erebus severed his head from his shoulders.

  The remaining Reavers piled out of the church into the cool nighttime air of Doncaster. It was fortunate that the field they stood on was both badly lit and far enough away from any populated areas that no one noticed, otherwise having the police turn up could have turned a difficult fight into an impossible one.

  Erebus didn’t pause; he sprinted right at the Reavers, throwing balls of flame at them to force them apart. The earth elemental created a shield of rock, but a sphere of air magic in Erebus’s hand destroyed it and a moment later the earth elemental was dead as a second sphere, this one of lightning, tore into his chest. The release of magic threw him back into the church as the magic ripped him apart. Erebus didn’t wait to see if it worked, he already knew it would. These people weren’t soldiers, hardened by years of battle; they were idiots who believed that their power meant they were better than others.

  A werewolf charged toward Erebus. It barreled into him, tackling him to the ground and tearing into his chest with razor sharp claws. Erebus reached up and grabbed the werewolf under the neck, letting loose with a blast of fire magic that tore out the throat of the werewolf. He pushed the screaming wolf off him and paused, breathing heavily, as his wounds healed. He looked around to find dead Reavers all around the church; Remy, Alan, or Ellie had killed some as they’d taken Felix and the humans to safety. Mortimer and Corath were all that remained. Mortimer drew two blades and walked toward Erebus, while Corath hovered just behind.

  Erebus feinted attacking Mortimer—who dodged aside—and then threw the nagamaki at Corath. The blade pierced one of the griffin’s wings, tearing part of it, and he crashed back to the ground with a blood-curdling scream. Erebus’s attention was still on the writhing griffin when Mortimer darted forward and slashed one of his blades up toward Erebus’s face. The nightmare moved quickly, avoiding being blinded, but Mortimer’s second blade whipped around quicker, catching Erebus across the chest.

  Mortimer stepped back and smiled. “You got the upper hand last time, but jumping out of that window had taken a lot out of me. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  He dashed toward Erebus, his knives a blur of motion. One cut across Erebus’s arm, and a blast of magic sent Mortimer spinning away from him. More pain went through Erebus’s head; the knives were silver.

  Erebus threw a plume of flame at Mortimer, who didn’t move until the last second and then darkness appeared in front of him and the flame just vanished. For a second Mortimer looked weaker, but his wicked smile soon returned.

  “Fae,” Erebus rumbled.

  Mortimer tore his shirt off, casting it aside. “I was a Harbinger,” he said. “I was one of the elite warriors of Avalon. Until I was on a mission and someone tore my wings off.”

  He moved back and to the side, so that Erebus could see the horrific wounds on his back. Parts of the wings remained, but they were far too small to allow him to fly.

  “Do you know what happened when I returned to Avalon?” Mortimer screamed. “Those in charge cast me out of the Harbingers. They said I was ‘too damaged,’ that I was no longer able to function at such a high level. And then Kelly came to me, told me I could help Avalon still, that I could join the Reavers. And I jumped at the chance. I’m going to take this all the way to Elaine, and then I’m going to skewer her and ask her how well I’m functioning.”

  Erebus remained passive.

  “And you,” Mortimer continued. “You were given everything by Avalon, and you threw it away. You are everything I should have been. Given every opportunity to change things in Avalon, given every advantage, and you squandered it all because your ethics got in the way.”

  “You can’t use your full fae abilities without your wings,” Erebus said. “That’s a shame.”

  Mortimer’s anger appeared to bubble over and he charged Erebus, who threw a ball of flame at him, which after a foot just hovered in the air between them. Mortimer dodged to one side, trying to come around the ball just as it exploded, throwing out flame for several feet on either side. I’d never even considered using my fire magic in such a way, the possibility of being able to wield the power that Erebus used was intoxicating. I had to remind myself that Erebus would take control of my body if given the chance.

  Mortimer threw himself under the explosion, putting him directly in line with Erebus, who kicked out at his ribs, lifting him from the ground and dumping him several feet back. Mortimer was quickly on his feet, his knives slashing out at Erebus, who dodged and weaved, using air magic to push Mortimer’s arms aside. But even so, Mortimer managed
to get in a few good cuts with his silver knives, leaving Erebus bleeding from the arms and chest.

  Another ball of fire thrown by Erebus was swallowed by more darkness. Erebus struck out with a blade of lightning, but Mortimer dodged it, swiping under the blade, and cutting through Erebus’s side. No matter what Erebus did, Mortimer was too fast to catch, and any magic that got close was absorbed by the darkness that Mortimer could control. I could sense Erebus’s frustration at the matter, as he sought a way to stop Mortimer, while Corath was still unable to fly.

  At the thought of Corath’s name, Erebus glanced over at the griffin. He was on his knees, trying to stop the massive amount of blood that was pouring from his ruined wing. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  The memory of fighting Mortimer outside of the Williamses’ home flashed to the front of my mind. He’d been considerably weaker then, unable to use his fae powers, nor fast enough to stop mine.

  “That does not help me, Nathan,” Erebus said aloud, and then smiled slightly. He moved back toward the ruined church wall, and sent out six tendrils of air, each one invisible to Mortimer as they snaked along the wall. When they were in the correct place, Erebus sent out another plume of flame, which Mortimer easily avoided on his way to another attack.

  Erebus snapped the tendrils tight, hardening the air as they wrapped around large chunks of stone that were hurled toward Mortimer at high speed. He dodged the first three skull-sized stones, but the fourth hit him on his knee, dropping him to the ground, where another slammed into the side of his skull.

  Erebus glanced up as Remy sprinted across the open ground to where Corath was getting back to his feet. The griffin never saw the smaller man until Remy was too close for him to do anything. Remy’s sabre struck the griffin and they went down fighting.

  “Your skull is probably fractured,” Erebus told Mortimer. “You certainly won’t be moving quickly for a while. But just to make sure.” Erebus used air magic to lift another of the stones and bring it down on Mortimer’s knee with a loud crack.

  Mortimer screamed in pain, as Erebus did the same with the other knee.

  “I only do this to ensure that Nathan is safe. Your continued movements do not permit that.”

  Erebus looked over at the fight between Remy and Corath to discover that Ellie was also helping. Corath was missing a wing and was on his knees as Remy stabbed his sabre into his head.

  “I guess I’m done here,” Erebus told Mortimer. “Please do tell Nathan’s friends that you’re to be kept alive. I believe he’d like to talk to you.” Erebus brought the stone down on Mortimer’s head once more, knocking him out, before he sat down on the wet grass and allowed me control once again. I was conscious for a moment and then passed out.

  CHAPTER 30

  I woke up in bed in the cavern where we’d met Felix. Ellie was on a chair next to me, dozing quietly, her feet propped on the end of the bed.

  “Morning,” I said with a smile.

  Ellie lazily opened her eyes and gave me a brief smile before looking at her watch. “Two hours,” she said. “I was expecting you to be out for longer.”

  “Did I miss anything?”

  “Felix is in his room, Alan hasn’t left him. Mortimer is in our old torture room, enjoying the delights of having Remy never shut up.”

  “Corath is dead, I assume?”

  “The griffin? Yep, very dead. I ended up using your sword to take its head off. The rest of the Reavers are in the same state, although most of those kept their heads. We managed to get hold of Hendricks on Avalon Island and arranged for a helicopter landing. Alan told him about Kelly and her group who are on their way. Alan said he knows Hendricks and vouched for him.”

  “What did Hendricks say?”

  “Kelly’s group isn’t there yet, but he’ll be on the lookout. He’s not sure who is and who isn’t a Reaver. Apparently Olivia and her people found the rest of the people on the list that Reaver gave you. All dead. They found Fiona’s supervisor too. Looks like he’s been dead for a while. Lucie thinks the Reavers killed him before attacking Fiona. Hendricks is going to stop people going through the realm gate, he feels that there’s a sudden need for the realm gate to undergo maintenance. It won’t be operational for a few hours yet. Probably start working the second we arrive. It means Hendricks won’t be able to get through to Avalon though; he can’t risk activating the gate and then having Kelly and her people see it working. Getting to Lucie and Elaine is going to be up to us when we arrive.”

  “Mac is going to want to know about his father. They killed Lir to get to me. I don’t think the fact that we’ve killed Lir’s killers is going to be much solace to Mac. How long before the helicopter can be ready?”

  “It should be an hour at the most; we’ve arranged for it to land on the field opposite this place up above.”

  I swung my legs out of the bed and grabbed a clean T-shirt from the floor. I didn’t know where it had come from, and I didn’t really care, I was just glad to be wearing something not covered in dirt or blood.

  “Felix or Mortimer first?” I asked.

  “Felix. I don’t know how long he has left.”

  I made my way through the cavern and found Felix lying on a bed with Alan beside him. “How’s he doing?” I asked.

  Alan didn’t look away from Felix when he spoke, “Not good, Nate.” His voice contained none of its normal light tone.

  “How about you?”

  “Not even a little bit okay.”

  I placed my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Alan, I really am.”

  “He taught me that there was a better way than how I’d been living. He was the one person who’d gotten through to me. Without him, I would still be running around trying to avoid being killed. He taught me how to be a better person. And that person managed to bag himself a wife like Fiona. Now she’s in a hospital bed in Avalon, and I’m here with Felix. He’s going to die. And I’ve wanted to stay busy since I found out about Fiona, but I’m so terrified that I’ll get back to Avalon and she’ll be dead too. I don’t want to think of her in a hospital bed, dying.”

  There was nothing I could say to make him feel better. No words would have offered comfort, but I had to try anyway, “Fiona will be okay.”

  “You don’t know that, Nate. But let’s say she is, let’s say I get to Avalon and Fiona’s okay. That she’s healed. I wasn’t there to help her. I wasn’t there to stop her being attacked. I agreed to go to jail in return for a full pardon of past crimes. And when this is over, I’ll be going back.”

  “No, you won’t,” I told him.

  He turned to me, surprise on his face.

  “We’ll arrange for you to go free. I’ll call in some favors. You’re helping Avalon, it’s the least they can do.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  “I hadn’t considered it.”

  Alan laughed. “And people say I’m cocky.”

  “I’ll come back in a bit, when Felix has woken up.”

  “He’s going to die soon,” Alan said, his demeanor flicking back to somber.

  “I know,” I agreed, and wished I could be wrong.

  “We can’t get that damn sorcerers band off. If we could, he’d have a chance, but the venom . . . the venom is too much. I’m surprised he’s not in agony.”

  “He’s strong, and he’s a fighter. The venom will soon begin to destroy him at a faster rate.”

  Alan was silent for a moment. “Use the rune.”

  “It might not work. It will almost certainly drain him of whatever energy remains.”

  “At least he will die with his magic in use.”

  “If this triggers the band, we’re about to learn how magical napalm feels.”

  I created a shield of air between Felix and us, and Alan passed me a pen, which I used to draw the rune on Felix’s arm. The effect of the completed rune was immediate; Felix’s eyes shot open as blue glyphs shone across his arms. Water exploded from his palm, drenching the floor and wal
l opposite the bed. The glyphs quickly dimmed, and the magic stopped as Felix sat up.

  “What the hell have you done?” he asked me, when he caught a look at his arm. He created a ball of water in his palm and was slowly rotating it. “I have to keep using this magic now, just long enough to keep the venom at bay. Is that how it works?”

  I nodded.

  “I had him put the rune on,” Alan said. “It’s better than dying in agony.”

  “I’m still going to die in agony, you fool,” Felix chastised. “I can almost feel the rune feeding on my energy. Do you use this often?”

  “No, only when necessary.”

  “You’re more powerful than I’d imagined, Nate.” He closed his eyes and breathed slowly for a few seconds. “Nate, can you leave me and Alan alone to talk?”

  I nodded. “I’ll come back in a little while.”

  “Thank you,” Felix said.

  I left him and Alan alone, setting set off toward Remy and Mortimer, an easy thing to do considering I could hear Remy talking about the time he first watched a television.

  I entered the chamber and found Mortimer manacled to the floor. Whoever had put the manacles on had used the same ones that had held Remy. He was covered in bruises and cuts, but otherwise appeared to be okay.

  “Ummm . . . Remy, why are you telling him about your TV watching?” I asked as he sat a few feet away from our prisoner.

  “I was told not to hurt him physically. Figured I’d try boring him. I’ve so far discussed broccoli, the use of corpses in siege weapons, how to shoe a horse, and now my first experience with television.”

  “Make him stop,” Mortimer pleaded. “He just won’t stop.”

  “I’m quite parched,” Remy admitted. “I guess I should go get a drink.” He stood and stretched. “I assume we’ll be going soon.”

  “Soon,” I told him. “Dealing with Mortimer and Felix first. Be ready to go in about forty-five minutes.”

 

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