Knight of Flame

by Scott Eder

  “No, I mean, what are we doing right this minute?”

  Dronor bristled. “Don’t start with me, you ignorant Viking brute.”

  “We’re looking for little black balls in the belly of a pitch black ship with little more than a lit match to see by. Do you see a problem with that plan?”

  “What do you propose?” Cyndralla asked.

  “Light this bitch up,” Magnus said.

  “But then the forces of Shadow will see us.” Dronor spoke as if to a two year old who’d lost sight of the obvious.

  “I got a newsflash for you, buddy. Anyone hiding in the dark can see our light. But, guess what, we can’t see them.”

  Damn. I hadn’t thought of that. The impenetrable wall around them took on a sinister persona. Wren thought she saw a pair of yellow eyes watching them from the shadows, but chalked it up to a dose of paranoia brought on by Magnus’s comment. To be sure, though, she checked again and they were gone.

  “Cover your eyes,” Cyndralla said.

  “Let her rip, Cyndy.”

  Wren threw her arm across her eyes as a shield against the spell’s flash. Now was not the time to be stumbling around with spots in front of her eyes. She opened her eyes a slit and looked over the curve of her forearm. A globe of dazzling white floated in the air twenty feet above their heads like a miniature sun, dispelling all but the farthest shadows. The end of the hold lay beyond the reach of Cyndralla’s light, but what Wren could see surprised her—a big bunch of nothing. No boxes. No crates. Nothing.

  This thing is like a black hole in the water. Where are the orbs?

  “You…you all felt them too,” Dronor stammered and pulled away from the group to begin his own search. “They are here. I know they are.”

  “Dronor, don’t go off alone.” Magnus barked the order, but the Knight of Water walked on, muttering to himself. “We can’t let the fool wander off into the darkness. Let’s see if there’s something at the other end of this pit.”

  Cyndralla hurried after, increasing her pace to keep Dronor within the circle of light.

  “I see something. A room of some kind up ahead.” Excited, Dronor trotted back to the group. “I feel the orbs in there, but it’s too dark to see anything. I need your light, Lady.”

  Magnus muttered something in another language, but loud enough for Wren to hear. She watched Dronor’s expression to see if he noticed. The Water Knight’s eyes flicked upward.

  Half a second later, Dronor dove at Cyndralla and pushed her out of the way as a slab of midnight detached from the ceiling and crashed to the ground. Cyndralla fell clear, but the shock broke her concentration and her sun blinked out.

  Caught beneath the descended darkness, Dronor screamed. His agonized wail reverberated off the steel walls and bounced his pain back at the team from all directions. It was almost loud enough to drown out the hideous series of cracks, snaps, and crunches.

  “Cyndy,” Magnus roared.

  The floor shuddered. Dronor’s screams faltered.

  Without Cyndralla’s light, Wren found the yellow outline of Magnus. He hacked away at the black slab on top of Dronor. Another glowing shape, away from the others, stirred on the floor.

  Cyndralla. Wren rushed to the side of the downed Knight of Air and helped her to her feet. Cyndralla shook her head and gently moved Wren to her side.

  Dev, I wish you were here.

  A flare streaked up, trailing a line of yellow sparks. At the apex of its climb, it exploded into another mini sun. One last, wet gurgle slid out from under the nightmare slab before it shattered into a million jots of black and skittered out of the light like an intrusion of roaches. Laughter hissed all around them.

  Magnus knelt at Dronor’s side, and set his axe on the floor within easy reach. Wren’s first step toward the men splashed into a spreading puddle of watery blood. The Knight of Water’s pulverized body lay nearly flat against the bottom of the hold, his skull a mash of skin, bone and brain matter.

  What could have done something like this?

  Terror streamed through Wren’s veins like ice water, stealing her warmth and her control. Her limbs quaked, her stomach flipped, she stumbled a few steps away from the ravaged Knight and wretched.

  Dev, we need you.

  “Oh, Dronor.” Cyndralla limped over, a thin line of blood leaking down her forehead.

  “Did you see what it was?” Magnus tried to look in all directions at once.

  Cyndralla shook her head.

  “I heard laughter,” Wren said.

  Magnus grabbed his axe and got to his feet. “Me too.”

  Yellow eyes floated lazily beyond the circle of light. Magnus saw them first and hefted his axe, murder ablaze in his righteous glare. “We’ve got company.”

  “So the Knightsssss are mortal.” An amused female voice rasped from the darkness. “Are you ready for me?” Yellow eyes blinked, but did not reappear.

  Wren pulled two knives from her harness, fingered the little birds and wished with all her heart that Dev were there.

  A dark glob swallowed the light and the shadows rushed in.

  Chapter 40

  DEV SWIVELED AROUND GARISON, DODGING THE single-minded muncle as he marched into the Womb bearing a tray laden with assorted white and yellow cheeses, breads and two bottles of wine. Half way in, he dropped the tray and pointed to the globe. The blue light representing Dronor flickered and went out.

  No. No. No. This can’t be happening. It was supposed to be a simple mission. Wren...

  Dev glanced at Stillman and watched the color drain from the Precept’s face. What do you think of your decision now, old man? The flame in his soul stirred in response to his growing anger.

  “What’s going on?” Cassidy looked from commander to soldier.

  “The Knight of Water,” Stillman dropped into his seat, “is gone.”

  This should not have happened. I should have been there.

  He wanted to rage at Stillman, lay the blame at the old man’s feet, tell him he had been dead wrong. But that would accomplish nothing so he kept his peace and took some solace in the horrified realization he read in Stillman’s eyes.

  “Sir.”

  “Go,” Stillman ordered, hand trembling as he waved Dev away.

  Free to kick ass, Dev was already down the hall when Cassidy’s shout caught him.

  “Wait. I’m going with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” Stillman responded, but Dev hesitated, drifted back toward the Womb.

  “You need my medical training. I can help.”

  Dev nodded once.

  “Garison,” Stillman said. “Please get the kit for Ms. Sinclair.” The muncle melted into the floor and returned a moment later with a large case that barely fit through the hole he came through. “That should have everything you need to stabilize most wounds. Anything serious and they’ll need to be brought here immediately.” Stillman approached her and grabbed her arm. “Stay out of the combat. You are there as a medic only. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Here.” Stillman tossed the gateway card to Dev as he rushed in. “This will open on the warehouse across from the barge.”

  The Knight of Flame caught the card, grabbed Cassidy’s hand and the medical kit, and pulled her down the hall. After the first few strides, she yanked herself free of his leading grasp.

  Strong. Independent. She left him holding the bag. And smart.

  He picked up the pace, taking her by the shortest route to the Portal Room. After a moment of concentration, he threw the card into the archway carved on the wall and the gateway opened.

  “Are you sure about this?” Dev paused to give her one last out before he jumped them through the portal. He knew the answer, but had to ask the question. She wasn’t a Knight, wasn’t even a member of the Order and deserved the chance to change her mind. And yet, he knew what she would say.

  “Absolutely.”

  Dev squeezed her hand and led them through.

  In a blin
k, the Portal room vanished, replaced by the moonlit, dilapidated warehouse. Cassidy doubled over.

  “Vertigo.” Dev rubbed her back. “The nausea will pass in a second. Hang in there.” He eyed the open doorway then turned back to his ailing companion. Come on. Come on.

  Breathing heavy, Cassidy straightened and swallowed hard.

  “Gogogo. I’m right behind you.”

  That a girl. Dev ran, but his warrior instincts forced him to stop before he charged blindly through the doorway out into the open. He reached out for heat sources. Only small dots of warmth, the usual wildlife, bugs and small fish in the water, came back. He hoped to sense his friends, but the barge’s hull most likely masked their heat signatures.

  Cassidy tapped him on the back to signal she was good to go. Dev broke from cover and sprinted across the dock. In two quick leaps, he vaulted up the gangway and landed on deck.

  Security door. Where the hell is the security door?

  Cassidy made it to the deck behind him.

  “Look for the security door,” Dev said.

  Cassidy found the partially open vault and gave a low whistle. Dev rushed over, swung the door wide and plowed into the darkness to the first landing. Once inside, he heard the shouting. Cyndralla’s light blazed far below. It wasn’t strong enough to reach them, but it gave him a target.

  Dev unleashed the fire within. It roared through his body, ignited his blood, and energized his muscles. Heat shimmered from every pore and his skin glowed red.

  Cassidy stepped back.

  Dev couldn’t look at her, didn’t want to see the fear, disgust and hatred in her eyes as she shrank back. Fire took her daughter. To her, his element, his very being, personified the force of destruction—an evil that ate little girls. He knew different, but couldn’t deny her feelings.

  Hell, for centuries he too believed he was a monster, a demon. But not anymore.

  I am the Knight of Flame. A soldier of power and light.

  He charged down the stairs. Each step closer to his friends and their danger fueled his building rage. Faster, he leaped the stairs three at a time. By his third leap, his skin ignited. Bright orange flame caressed his body and he grinned, grim and fierce, as his light consumed the shadows.

  Like a comet, he blazed across the space of the hold. Cassidy trailed somewhere behind him, her heat sign steadily following his fiery trail.

  Almost there.

  Magnus waved him on. Cyndralla stood next to him, hand on her diadem. Wren crouched low by his side.

  A shape, black and insubstantial, swooped at Dev’s head, but his fire repulsed it, sent it back into the gloom. Another shape, or maybe the same one, he had no idea, dove at Cyndralla.

  “Cyndy,” Dev shouted, but Magnus was closer. With a single-armed swing of his axe, he severed the dark talon that tried to take her head. The creature attacked a few more times, but retreated when it got too close to Dev’s fire or Magnus’s axe.

  “What’s the scoop?” Dev asked.

  “It’s the sister,” Magnus said.

  “Who?

  “The other Maven, sister to the one at the club. The one with the yellow eyes in the painting. Agridda.” Magnus spun his axe in his grip as he scanned for movement. “Dronor’s down.” His voice deepened, hollowing out as he called upon his earth power. His skin changed, hardening to iron from the hull and turning a dark reddish brown.

  “Dev!” Wren got as close to the Fire Knight as she could, “Thank god you’re—”

  Running footsteps pattered behind them. Four sets of eyes turned to the sound. A knife appeared in Wren’s hand, her arm cocked and ready to throw.

  “Wren…” Dev started as Cassidy stumbled into the firelight.

  “Here. Oh, you brought Cassidy.” Wren stepped away from the Knight of Flame.

  “It wassss good of you to come, killer of my ssssister. Develor Quinteele.” Dev’s name echoed through the open space.

  “You’re a popular guy.” Magnus searched for the source of the voice.

  Dev spun and drew Cinder. “Face me.” Rage sundered his last shred of control. The orange crystal flared to life. Thin hairs of piercing light radiated out from the gem’s facets.

  An agonized scream surrounded them. Dev caught a flash of baleful yellow before it disappeared.

  “This is ridiculous,” Cyndralla complained. “Am I that out of practice that I cannot deal with a single foe?” She adjusted her outfit and fixed her hair. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had about enough of this bloody shadow hatchling.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir, sister.” Magnus spun in a slow circle, eyes scanning the hold’s remote dark corners. Axe at the ready, he wrung the haft.

  “Where is she?” Dev had been through dire battles with his friend, but the menace he felt in Magnus’s voice spiked a chill into his molten core.

  “Anybody hurt?” Cassidy asked and moved into the center of the Knights’ impromptu diamond formation, each facing a different direction.

  “Dronor’s gone. Any sign of the orbs?” Dev took charge.

  “No,” Magnus answered. “But we haven’t searched the whole place. Dronor mentioned something about a room at the far end of the hold.”

  “Let’s check it out. Keep alert. Watch the shadows. We’ll pick Dronor up on the way back.”

  “Got it.”

  As one, the group moved out in the direction of Dronor’s phantom room. Dev on point, he led the advance slow and steady. His light augmented Cyndralla’s spell, gave it a little extra bite to shred the shadows around them.

  Come on, bitch. Bring it.

  He thought of Dronor. They never liked each other, even went out of their respective ways to make the other look bad. But Dev knew, when it came down to it, Dronor had had his back.

  And I should have had his.

  “Hey, there’s a room up here.” Dev approached the open doorway cautiously and looked in. The room was shoddy, made of thin metal sheets riveted at the corners and poorly welded to the floor, with no ceiling.

  Dev shook his head—amateurs—and guarded the front while Magnus stepped inside.

  “There’s a ton of perlite, the same material we found at the club,” Magnus reported. The sounds of shifting material and muttered curses drifted over the relatively short walls.

  “No orbs. Damn. I think they were here, but they must have moved them.” Magnus roared after he spoke, a deep howl of frustration that rattled the walls. A huge fist punched through next to Dev’s head.

  Hello.

  Dev peeked through the new window and saw the top of Magnus’s head, hands pressed against the wall, shoulders bunched and strained. Crack.

  He’s not really…

  Magnus growled and grunted. The wall bowed. Rivets popped.

  Dev moved out of the way and warned the others, “Watch it.”

  With a final heave, Magnus toppled the entire wall. It crashed to the ground as a single long piece.

  Chest heaving, eyes lowered and dangerous, hands curled into five-pronged meat hooks, Magnus stood over his handiwork.

  “Better?” Dev understood the big man’s need to vent. Dronor had been killed on his watch. He didn’t envy the first few shadow people that crossed Magnus’s path.

  “A little.” Magnus kicked the granular pile of insulation at his feet and sent a dark glass orb flying. It narrowly missed Cassidy’s head and rolled beyond the edge of the light.

  Dev couldn’t help but smile at the sheepish expression now coating Magnus face. It was a complete one eighty from the insane killer mask he wore a minute ago.

  “I got it.” Out of reflex, Cassidy jogged after the orb. The further away from Dev she traveled, the less distinct her form became, until, as she bent to the ground to pick it up, she was little more than a dark, blurred mass.

  Wren exploded into motion, wind-milling three daggers toward Cassidy. As the last left her fingers, she sprinted after.

  Dev saw it then, the thing that triggered Wren’s despera
te actions—a pair of sickly yellow eyes atop a dark sinuous body wrapped around Cassidy. The daggers struck, distracting the Maven from her victim.

  Legs pumping, Wren closed the distance.

  Agridda uncoiled, relinquishing her hold on Cassidy, and reared up, the hood of a giant cobra fanning out around her yellow eyes.

  Wren froze.

  Throwing all he had into his element, Dev tore across the intervening space.

  Nonononono.

  Agridda struck. Curved black fangs pierced Wren’s chest, lifted her into the air.

  “Wren!” Dev shouted.

  The shadow snake melted into the surrounding darkness, but somehow Wren remained aloft.

  As Dev got close, his light illuminated the poor girl. She dangled above the ground like a butchered hog. Two black spikes jutted from her chest. Blood ran from the wounds, flowed down her back and legs and dripped onto the floor.

  Wren…

  Disbelief slowed Dev down. The other Knights ground to a halt at his side.

  A woman peeled herself out of the dense wall of night. Formed of lithe, muscular limbs, perfect feminine curves, and long, flowing hair all the color of tar, she basked unafraid in Dev’s fiery glow. The spikes holding Wren aloft grew out of her shoulder blades.

  Wren moaned.

  “Hold on, Wren. I’m here,” Dev called.

  “Shhh,” Maven Agridda cooed. “It will be over soon.” Wren’s blood dripped on the Maven’s face. A thin, snake-like tongue lapped it up. “Sssssweet and young.”

  “Let her go.” Dev tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but it crept in anyway.

  “I will let her go, killer of my sssister. I will.” The evil face grinned. “But not just yet.”

  “You can have me instead.” Dev ignored the shocked looks from Magnus and Cyndralla.

  “Mmmmm, tempting.” She tapped one delicate finger against her chin. “I think…no. Thisss isss better. Hurtsss more.”

  Dev’s guts twisted, and his mind whirled in a frantic search for a solution.

  Where’s Cassidy?

  There. At the verge of the light. She’d crawled away from the scene, close to Magnus.

  “Wren?”

  “Leave me and go.” Wren strained to get the words out.