by Hans Bezdek
“You’ve got more to worry about than simply your food,” said Chaos, stalking toward the guard.
“Back off!” shouted Chloe.
Everyone turned to see the other bodyguard holding Calina’s final wand up at Chaos. She was shaking slightly with nerves, but her eyes were fiery and locked on the assassin.
“As if I’m scared of a little more webbing,” sneered Chaos.
“That’s not charged with webbing,” said Calina quietly to Grayson as she got up, rubbing the spot on her face where Chaos had hit her.
“What is it, then?” asked the elf.
Before she could respond, the tip of the wand glowed a dark orange. A ball of energy shot out of the wand with extreme speed toward Chaos. It was too fast for the assassin or anyone else to react to, and for a split second Grayson thought this would finally be over.
Then the ball soared a solid three feet over Chaos’ head. It connected with a high part of the wall, where there hadn’t been any books. A loud explosion rocked the side of the Grand Duke’s mansion as chunks of wood and stone shot out of and into the room. Smoke filled the side of the library where Chaos and Sten were, but when it cleared up it revealed no one was hurt. Grayson could hear some panicked shouts from the ballroom and imagined the guests were going to start running away now.
“That’s definitely not webbing,” muttered Grayson.
“There’s a reason I started off with that wand,” nodded Calina.
“Why didn’t you bring two of them?!”
“I only have the one,” she said. “Kinetic wands are too hard for me to make right now. My master is the one that put it together. The webbing wand is more in my skill range.”
Grayson wanted to know more, but the look on Chloe’s face distracted him. The guard had gone completely white after using the wand, her eyes locked in horror at the tip of the weapon.
“I-I did t-that…?” she asked.
“Keep it up, Chloe!” shouted Sten, who was still closer to Chaos than he had a desire to be. “Try actually hitting him with it this time!”
The assassin didn’t like the sound of that and crouched low, ready to jump in any direction as needed. He brought his daggers up in front of him, although Grayson doubted they’d block much of an explosion.
Chloe wobbled on her feet for a second, mumbled something, then fell on her back unconscious.
“Oh, boy,” sighed Grayson.
“Not again…” groaned Calina, cupping her hands over her face.
Sten, seemingly forgetting that he was within striking range of the assassin, ran toward his downed friend with a cry of panic.
Chaos blinked a few times, then stood up straight.
“To think I was almost killed by someone like her,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.
Sten tried to shake Chloe awake, but the guard wasn’t coming to so easily this time. Grayson wasn’t sure how wands worked, and had never held one himself. For all he knew, it took some energy out of the person wielding it. He wouldn’t be shocked to learn that Chloe was the kind of person that didn’t have a lot to spare. But all they needed was enough energy for one shot...
“Use the wand yourself!” Grayson shouted at Sten.
Sten gave Grayson a look like the elf was crazy. Chaos wasn’t willing to risk the guard coming around, though, and dove at him. Sten tried to bring his sword up in time, but the assassin thrusted forward with both of his daggers in unison. His offhand bounced off the guard’s sword, while his main dagger drove into the guard’s side. Sten let out a grunt of pain, then Chaos kicked him back and off of his dagger.
“I hate it when people interrupt me,” said Chaos, turning back to face Grayson and Calina. “Now... Where were we, again?”
Sten wasn’t moving on the ground. Grayson had no idea if he was still alive or not, but he knew the guard wouldn’t be any more help. Chloe also looked to be out of the fight. That left just the unarmed Calina and him.
Grayson glanced at his dagger a few feet to his right, as did Chaos. The elf wasn’t sure he’d make it there before the assassin was on him, but he didn’t see a whole lot of other options. That did leave a path to the door open, though.
“I’m going to go for my dagger,” whispered Grayson to Calina. “When I start moving, you run for the door. Chaos will come for me, so you might have a chance.”
“But you’ll die,” she whispered back.
“We don’t know that for sure. I could possibly best him one on one.”
Calina gave him a look.
“Okay, I’m probably going to die,” he yielded. “There’s no reason you have to, too. Get to Anselm and see if he can come help me.”
Calina looked the elf over, unsure. “Is this another trick?”
Grayson let out an annoyed sigh. “Enough with that! We weren’t tricking you to hurt you. We have mutual goals. Just do this thing and you can turn our dead bodies in later, okay?!”
“What are you two talkin about?” asked Chaos. “Still bickering over all the lies?”
“More or less,” said Grayson loudly. He glanced at Calina a final time. She nodded.
The elf sprinted for his dagger, all of his focus on getting to the weapon before the assassin did. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chaos running for it, too, a wide and wicked grin on his face. Grayson didn’t want to know what the assassin was thinking.
As he neared it, the elf dove forward, picked up the dagger, and rolled through to the other side of it. Chaos’ extended daggers barely missed him, cutting deep into the back of the elf’s cloak but finding only air.
“I did it!” cheered Grayson in disbelief.
“Congratulations,” growled Chaos, not thrilled that he lost a footrace to the out of shape elf. “You slightly prolonged your life.”
Chaos jumped at the elf, jabbing with his daggers over and over, focusing at different angles with each thrust and slice. Grayson backpedaled as he moved his dagger to the left and right, trying desperately to match the assassin’s pace. Even if he had two daggers, he doubted he would’ve been able to. Points of pain ignited across his arms and chest as the assassin made contact every few attacks. Grayson was really regretting not wearing better armor like Anselm had suggested.
The assassin suddenly thrusted down and into Grayson’s left knee. The elf let out a shout of pain and collapsed to one knee, the dagger still in it. Chaos kicked Grayson’s dagger out of his hand effortlessly.
“I must thank you for the fun yesterday and today,” said Chaos, grabbing the elf by his hair and yanking his head back. “Killing targets can really be such a bore sometimes. I don’t see why most assassins try to kill secretly and with their target’s back turned. It’s so much more fun seeing them struggle and beg for their life.”
“You aren’t gonna get any begging from me,” said Grayson weakly.
Not that he wasn’t scared to die, because he absolutely was. He had no idea what kind of afterlife there was, but if there was a bad option, he was confident he’d be heading there. Grayson also had no shame, and would definitely have begged for his life if he thought it would have changed anything. Unfortunately, it would’ve just made Chaos happy to hear him do it, so he refrained.
“A man of honor in his final moments,” said Chaos, misunderstanding the elf’s motives. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”
“Can’t always get what you want,” shrugged Grayson.
“Oh, I’ll get most of what I want. After I kill you, I’ll finish off these other guards and then your friend with the weird arm. Then it’ll be the Grand Duke’s head, and Phase Two of our plan will go into-AAA!”
While Chaos was blabbering on, Grayson pulled the dagger out of his knee, spun it around, then jammed it into the back of the assassin’s calf. He knew it wouldn’t be a mortal wound, but at least he’d leave his own mark on him.
Chaos pushed the elf over in frustration then pulled his dagger out of his calf.
“Was that really necessary?!” hissed Ch
aos.
“Maybe that’s why assassins kill their targets by stabbing them in the back,” laughed Grayson weakly.
“No more of this,” growled Chaos, stepping over Grayson and bringing his two daggers back up. “Nighty night!”
An orange ball of kinetic power slammed into Chaos’ side. The explosion that followed instantly killed the assassin, disintegrating a large chunk of the top half of his body while sending the rest of it tumbling into the bookcase and wall next to him. The wall shook from the impact, and a large section of the bookcase collapsed on Grayson.
“Ow!” shouted the elf, too hurt to move.
He heard someone digging through the books and then lift the bookcase off of him with some effort. A hand took his, then dragged him up and out of the mess.
Calina collapsed next to him once she got him free, staring at the place in the wall where what was left of Chaos went through.
“Didn’t expect that,” admitted Grayson, struggling to prop himself up on his elbows.
“Neither did I,” said Calina quietly. “I… I killed someone…”
“You saved someone, too,” pointed out Grayson. He glanced over at Chloe and Sten, who were both starting to move again. “Well, multiple someones.”
“I never thought I’d kill someone,” she said, shaking her head. “Am I no better than you and Anselm?”
Grayson thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, you are. You gave him plenty of chances to turn himself in. You only killed him to defend others. I’d say you still get to keep your ‘good person’ certificate.”
A small smile appeared on Calina’s face.
“Look, I’m sorry we lied to you,” said Grayson. “For what it’s worth, it isn’t really like Anselm had another choice. And it turned out to be for the best. We stopped Chaos from killing the Grand Duke because you were willing to work with us.”
“What about Phantom?” asked Calina, suddenly remembering the other assassin.
Grayson patted her on the knee. “Don’t worry about him. I’m sure Anselm can handle him. We’d just get in the way if we tried to help right now.”
Calina thought then nodded. “You’re probably right. And I guess some good did come out of your lie, although I’m not sure I like that.”
Grayson and Calina shared a smile. The elf glanced down at her lips.
“So… Is this a good time to kiss?” asked Grayson.
Calina blinked at him.
“What?!” she demanded.
“My adrenaline is going,” explained the elf, gesturing to himself and then at her. “Your adrenaline is going. Seems like the natural thing to do.”
“I just killed someone!” she shouted at him. “And you’ve been lying to me ever since we met!”
Grayson looked her up and down. “I’m starting to get a ‘no’ vibe from you…”
“It’s a hard no!”
“Alright,” sighed Grayson. “Maybe next time.”
Chapter 19
Anselm was hit in his right arm by the blast. It was a split second decision, and one he wasn’t sure would work out. Since the lightning had only taken his arm last time, maybe it would just take the fake one this time around.
The lighting magic sparked out as it connected with the obsidian-like material. Sparks flew dangerously close to Anselm’s face, but none quite made it to his flesh. He could feel the power of the gauntlet pounding into the fake arm, but the material wasn’t disintegrating. The ray of magic finally came to an end, and Anselm collapsed to the ground.
“Ow,” groaned Anselm, slowly pushing himself up with both arms.
“How… How are you still moving?” asked Phantom curiously. “No one has ever survived that.”
“Well, this is my second time,” chuckled Anselm, not believing his luck. He wasn’t sure if it would happen a third time.
“W-What’s happened t-to your a-arm…?” whimpered the Grand Duke from behind Anselm.
The sleeve had been destroyed by the blast, revealing the shiny black material of Anselm’s fake arm.
“It’s a long story,” said Anselm, waving the Grand Duke off with his right arm.
Realizing what he had just done, Anselm did a double take, not believing what he was seeing. He flexed his arm and successfully moved it in any direction he wanted. It was doing exactly what he willed it to, without any delay!
“Your prosthetic moves flawlessly,” marveled Phantom. “Where did you get it?”
“A friend,” mumbled Anselm, noticing the different colored runes were now lit up. He had never paid much attention to them since even Calina didn’t know what they were for. All twelve of them glowed, with the one closest to his wrist slowly fading. It went out as he watched, and then the one above it began to flicker.
“It appears that my attack charged it,” reasoned Phantom, sounding a mix of astonished and annoyed as he witnessed the same thing Anselm did. “Looks like the magic is leaving, though.”
Anselm guessed as much. That meant he was on a time crunch if he wanted to use both arms to defeat the assassin. Reaching behind him for his second dagger, Anselm ran at Phantom once again.
Phantom naturally brought up his gauntlet. There was a slight glow, but it ended quickly. They both knew it would be a mistake for him to attack with his magic any more. He couldn’t kill Anselm with the ray and it would just make his arm stronger.
Phantom removed a sword with his right hand and got it up in time to catch Anselm’s daggers. The masked man kicked at Anselm’s stomach, catching him off guard and scooting him back. Phantom pressed in with a swing of his own, which Anselm blocked with one dagger. Anselm thrusted his other dagger at the assassin’s chest, but Phantom’s gauntlet knocked absorbed the hit.
Anselm jumped back and began circling Phantom. He considered putting Grayson’s poison on one of his daggers, but would he really need it now? Surely his charged arm would be enough to take Phantom down. Besides, it wasn’t like the poison would work against Phantom’s gauntlet.
“Time is ticking,” taunted Phantom. “Might want to speed this up.”
Anselm risked a glance at his arm. Another two runes were gone, leaving him with nine remaining.
“I’m not too worried about it,” bluffed Anselm. “You’ve come to rely on your magic for killing people, haven’t you?”
“It’s rather efficient. Barring you, of course,” shrugged Phantom. “I don’t see a reason to change it.”
“Well, it seems that it’s made you a bit rusty with your blade,” said Anselm. “Your attack on me almost seemed halfhearted.”
Anselm couldn’t see Phantom’s face, but he had the distinct feeling the man was glaring at him.
“Then try this one!” barked Phantom, dashing ahead and thrusting his sword out.
Anselm crossed his daggers and punched up, catching Phantom’s sword and lifting it into the air. Phantom stumbled forward, not prepared for the maneuver, and brought the two of them close. Anselm took a step into Phantom while putting a foot behind him, tripping him back and onto the ground.
Phantom let go of his blade as he crashed down. Anselm, seizing his opportunity, pounced at the assassin and shoved his daggers at him. Phantom’s gauntlet came up to block the daggers, letting loose a charge of lightning magic that shot Anselm back.
“You’re quick,” muttered Phantom, returning to his feet, “but not quick enough.”
Anselm glanced at his arm, hoping the small jolt was enough to give it some more power. The seven remaining runes showed it wasn’t.
“More time wasted,” taunted Phantom. “Pretty soon it won’t matter if you’re fast with your blades. I’m confident I could beat a one-armed man without needing too much magic.”
Anselm figured Phantom was right, especially if he could send off a small amount of electricity whenever Anselm got too close to hitting him. He caught motion out of the corner of his eye and smiled. “It looks like you’ve already lost, though.”
Phantom laughed. “Sounds like the magic has go
ne to your head. You have yet to land even a glancing blow.”
“I wasn’t talking about us.”
There was a thump as the safe room’s door was swung open by the Grand Duke. Phantom turned in time to watch the man run screaming into the ballroom.
“Blast it!” growled Phantom, realizing that his target was getting away.
“Looks like I make a passable guard,” grinned Anselm.
Phantom stared at the door as if he was going to try and chase after Jaspar. Anselm hoped he would since that would leave the masked man exposed to a hit in the back. After a few seconds, though, Phantom straightened and turned his attention back to Anselm.
“It doesn’t matter,” sighed Phantom. “I would’ve liked to be the one to get the kill, but that’s why I brought backup. Chaos will eliminate the Grand Duke any minute now.”
“About that…”
Phantom stared silently, waiting for the other assassin to continue.
“My friends are taking care of Chaos as we speak,” said Anselm, hoping they managed to get the jump on the crazed man.
Phantom’s gauntlet formed into a fist. “All you’re doing is delaying the inevitable! Durzheim is changing, and you won’t be able to stop it!”
Anselm rolled his eyes. “You’re just the most recent in a long line of people to make a claim like that. Durzheim isn’t changing for better or worse, and even if it were, I don’t see how it would change anything for me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” chuckled Phantom. “Only a select few of our people are going to exist for much longer.”
Anselm glanced at his arm, noticing he only had five runes left. He was running out of time. Whether or not Phantom was telling the truth, it didn’t matter. He only had time to act.
Anselm leapt at Phantom, surprising the assassin before he could pick up his sword. The masked man brought his gauntlet up in a defensive position, which is what Anselm was hoping for.
Dropping the dagger in his right hand, Anselm grabbed the assassin’s gauntlet with his obsidian hand and yanked it back. Somehow, the thing wouldn’t budge.
Phantom punched at his face, causing Anselm to let go and take a few quick steps back.