The Lostkind
Page 44
Vincent didn't try to run. They both knew it was over.
"Vincent, why did you come back here?" Vandark demanded, with no particular anger. "All you had to do was walk away. I didn't care. Why'd you have to start up? You had to know you couldn't win. Why try? Yasi? Pride?"
"I have won." Vincent said simply. "Your tactics have never been about controlling the people, but controlling the options. You forced Yasi to choose between saving me and capturing Owen, you made me choose between protecting her and Connie or winning the game... So here's me, returning the favor. I never thought I could beat you; I thought I could get into this room. And I have."
Vandark studied him, the tiniest knife edge of worry starting to creep in. "How?" He said finally. "What? What did I miss?"
"Nothing." Vincent said honestly. "You were extremely thorough. You spent three years testing out the things you had, the things you could find... You spent two years gathering information for your grand power play, and it paid off. For me."
Sudden silence.
"You will leave this place now." Vincent declared, raising his voice so all could hear it. "Because if you do not, I will expose the New York Underside to the world above. At this moment, my associate is waiting to release all the information that me, my friends, and your man Owen have spent the last two years gathering about the Secret City."
There was a sudden shift in the air; like lightning about to strike.
"The information includes all the new entrances, which have been identified by the Lostkind Glyph; as well as your own Glyphs, which you used when you stole all those things from the surface." Vincent almost had the nerve to smile, but not quite. "So here's an interesting moment in the life of Vandark." He said. "If you can't have it, are you willing to destroy it, and take all your men down with you?"
Vandark's face was stone. "The City belongs to me and mine right now. There are other ways."
"I know you're not worried. You probably have a plan." Vincent said honestly. "But right now, we're talking in front of the Steam Pipes. Which means my voice is being carried to every corner of the Underside."
~oo00oo~
Kamy smiled cruelly at the Riverfolk, as they looked at each other awkwardly; not sure what to do. Sure enough, Vincent's voice was reaching every room; some of them loudly enough to be an announcement, some rooms he was soft enough that they had to strain to hear it; but where once there was whispers echoing off the walls like white noise; there was now Vincent McCall.
"Yasi drilled it into me every time we met: Be Invisible." Vincent's voice said. "It's Rule Number One. And you're willing to break it; but you lost more than two thirds of your faithful warriors. I've been making my way through the Underside for hours; the Riverfolk are the ones patrolling Twelfth Level. And they've survived for seven years by being invisible, even to the Lostkind. I didn't think that was possible. How do you think they'll react when presented with the prospect of being under a microscope from all New York City?"
~oo00oo~
"Call your friend off!" Vandark roared.
Vincent waved around the room. "Well I can't do it from here."
"He can't do it from anywhere."
Both men looked, and saw Yasi framed in the elevator door; and she looked wretched; her expression one of utter misery.
"Gill's on a clock. I gave him the deadline because I knew you'd probably kill me on sight." Vincent gestured to the Pipes. "I thought if I could get here in time, Yasi could still get someone to the surface with a cell phone... once you were gone."
Vandark looked to Yasi, and for a moment, Yasi and Vandark were on the same side, two Lostkind trying to keep the same secret. "He won't do it."
"He can't stop it." Yasi shook her head. She actually had tears in her eyes. "We don't have any connection to the Surface. I destroyed the pneumatics before you invaded. There's no signal this deep; just the Round Table Room. And that can't be picked up by anyone without the same equipment. We use it to talk to Undersides across the planet, not across town..."
Vincent piped up. "You were right Vandark; I couldn't stop you, and I can't save the Underside; but I could save New York, even if you killed me. That decision was made before I ever came back here."
Vandark turned back to Vincent. "What have you done?"
Yasi choked out a wretched laugh. "He's alerted your allies. You were down to half a dozen Wildmen; and the Riverfolk were your only reinforcements. He's just told them that we're having company for dinner."
Vandark paled. "No!"
~oo00oo~
Vandark's cry echoed across the Underside as Yasi's words proved prophetic. Vandark's Loyal Soldiers had remained in the Throne Room, at the top of the Underside; but the vast complex had been policed and guarded by the Riverfolk. But theirs was an uneasy alliance, as the Riverfolk had their start among the New York Lostkind. The Rules that governed the place were sacred to the Lostkind, and to the Riverfolk. They tolerated Vandark's defiance... until now.
Without a word being passed between them, they knew what to do. The Shinobi had driven them out, or forced them to defeat before over the years, and every time; they regrouped beneath the River. And so, all across the Underside, across the Seven Steps, in every Tunnel; The Riverfolk broke away from the battles, the patrols... And simply walked into the water.
The Lostkind were being very quiet about it; doing nothing to get in their way, as the Riverfolk vanished into the River, disappearing without a trace. It was what they were best at.
Even the Riverfolk were Lostkind; and they were determined to stay invisible; no matter what.
~oo00oo~
Yasi glanced to Vincent. "Vandark sealed the Labyrinth when he found out you were here. You can still... stop Owen, before he gets to the Surface."
Vincent checked his watch again, and ran for the elevator; catching the crossbow Yasi tossed him on the way out. Vandark let him go; now without reason to stop him.
Neither of them moved, letting Vincent take the elevator and go.
~oo00oo~
Dorcan and his warriors were too busy to hear the conversation; drowned out by the battle; but the Shinobi were the first to discover the gravity of the shift in loyalties. The Throne Room door, which was crowded with the reinforcements of their enemy; was suddenly empty.
The tide of battle turned, as the Wildmen's numbers thinned, and they realized there was no help coming. Dorcan dove for his bow, and came up; a crossbow bolt already notched. "Put up your swords!" He roared.
~oo00oo~
Yasi had tears rolling down her cheeks. Her world had collapsed.
Vandark's face was stone. His plans had all turned to ashes in his hands.
After an endless beat, Vandark turned to the Steam Pipes and started resetting them, closing off their voices to the Underside. Her eyes flicked to the gun in his hand, and he snorted, seeming to find it ridiculous as he tossed it aside. It skittered across the floor, unnoticed.
"So." Vandark said.
"So." Yasi agreed.
"If the Powers That Be come down here... The Secret City is still filled with the damage we've inflicted on each other; including the bodies. They'll lock us both away."
Yasi nodded. "Figure they will. I don't know that there's a prison made that could hold either of us for long."
"Probably right, but can you see either of us living like that, even for a little while?" Vandark said practically. "Prisoners? From being Untouchable to being Convicts?"
Yasi raised her hands, letting the severed handcuffs glimmer. "Must say, I didn't much care for it, myself." She choked out another bitter chuckle. "But where else have either of us got to go?"
"Can't go back to Europe." Vandark nodded. "Neither of us exist according to any record anywhere..." He smirked and drew her sword slowly from its scabbard. "Why don't we do ourselves a favor and just kill each other now?"
Yasi glanced to Vandark's own sword, sheathed at his hip. "If you like."
Vandark went from still to lunging so fast that
Yasi barely reacted in time. He swung her sword with the speed of a lightning strike, left to right. Yasi was expecting it this time and bent herself backwards, far enough that the sword passed over her. An instant later, she swung her boot upward and caught the hilt of her sword with the kick. The handle flew out of Vandark's grip, and the samurai sword went flying.
They both dove for the blade as it arced. He was closer, she was faster, and caught the Sword of the Shinobi he'd stolen from her with impossible smoothness; her eyes cold and deadly as she spun to point the blade at him. "Takers Keepers." She challenged him eagerly.
Vandark drew his own black sword with a smirk. "Indeed."
~oo00oo~
Owen was shining his torch back and forth as he moved through the Labyrinth... When something hit him from behind, sending him staggering into the wall.
He put a hand on the wall and spun around; his torch waving wildly... And he came nose to nose with a pair of enormous, glowing, red eyes. He fell back in horror and felt his spine smack into the wall.
Everything froze for a second and Owen got a look at him, stepping forward awkwardly. "Vincent?"
Pow! Vincent hauled off and slugged him hard across the jaw. Owen reeled back from the blow and went face first into the wall. The double impact of the punch and the concrete sent him sinking slowly to the floor; unconscious.
"Been saving that one up for months, buddy." Vincent grinned, and went running back into the Underside.
~oo00oo~
Yasi was faster than he was, but not nearly as strong. She had learned many of his moves, but he had plenty more to draw on. She had the trick of it now; knowing the pace of the fight. Vandark fought by giving out slower, more powerful blows, and saving speed for defense and evasion. He was far faster than his appearance would indicate; and skilled enough that his timing was flawless.
Yasi did not attack, she counter-attacked. In any battle, you had to sacrifice your defense in favor of offense. She was far more nimble than he was, and could get in under his strikes, taking the opportunity for a quick strike of her own.
It was a dangerous form of combat, one that required phenomenal endurance. Yasi danced, gliding over the floor, twisting into impossible shapes. Her body became an impossible target, hard to predict, difficult to reach.
Vandark was breathing hard, wearing out, their blades glanced off each other in a shower of sparks, like a constant lightning storm; flashes of metal on metal.
Vandark was smart, and saw her movements for what they were, an attempt to wear him down; but there wasn't a hint of worry on his face as he struck methodically, making long sweeping attacks that forced her to change direction every second. Yasi realized quite suddenly that she was getting tired too.
Yasi felt the air shift as she dodged and realized that Vandark had worked her back into the shelves; trying to corner her. She dodged the next slash and Vandark's sword went through one of the large volumes. If his sword had been as sharp as hers, it might have made it through; but the thick blade went into the book like an axe into a tree and stuck there. Vandark realized the error instantly and lifted the sword; volume and all. Long enough for Yasi to slash her blade in under the Wildman's defenses and score a heavy blow to his ribs.
Vandark hissed and lashed out with his fists; clipping Yasi across the side of the head. She rolled with it and headed down the length of the shelves. Vandark freed his sword and kicked out hard; bringing the whole row of shelves down; knocking them over like dominios. In the smaller, resonant space; the noise of the impact was massive; and Yasi had to scramble to keep from getting buried.
Neither of them spoke or taunted, their worlds lost in a frenzy of blow and counter-blow, dedicated to getting a little closer, a little faster, a little better than the other; each looking for a fatal opening, dreading it when it came.
Another slash, and Yasi danced back... when her foot hit the pedestal. She glanced back in horror, and discovered that Vandark had managed to work her back against the steam pipes without her noticing.
With a victory shout, Vandark swung his sword so hard it would have sent her head rolling. She ducked instinctively, and his sword chopped through half a dozen steam pipes instead.
Yasi howled as the gushing steam ripped into her face. The combined heat of the Underside flashed across her vision unexpectedly, and she reeled, blind and hurting. She brought her sword up vertically in front of her body and felt him knock it aside. In the same instant, a massive blow struck her midsection, bending her double. Another strike against her ankles, and she was flat on the ground, half-curled into a ball. She rolled to her feet, everything blurry before her vision; but she forced her eyes shut against the pain, and listened. There was a rush of air and she rolled, feeling his blade pass over her. The roll morphed into a tackle into Vandark's midsection...
...which did nothing at all. Disorientation had made her forget how massive he was next to her, and she was back on the floor instantly.
Too slowly, her vision cleared, and she looked up blearily to see Vandark above her, ready to bring down the death-blow. No room to dodge, no time to beg...
And she was glad for it. She had failed to save her home; but she would die with the knowledge that Vandark had lost; and would have nowhere to go either...
Bang!
Vandark jerked in surprise.
Bang!
Vandark jerked again. Yasi shook her head to clear it, trying to understand what she was seeing, and turned her head to the left. Vincent was back in the Whisper Gallery, stepping off the elevator. And in his hand was Vandark's smoking gun.
Vandark looked down at himself, stunned... and slowly slid to the ground.
Everything was suddenly silent. There was the hissing of the ruptured steam pipes, Yasi's heavy breathing as she struggled to her feet.
Vincent looked down suddenly, as if he'd just realized he had a gun in his hand, and he put it down quickly on one of the surviving shelves.
Yasi rolled to her feet and stood; hurrying to Vincent's side. He started to smile and reach out for her...
...and she shoved him away viciously, putting him into the shelves. "You idiot!" She snarled, rubbing her eyes. "What have you done? You burned this place. There's no way your phone is gonna work down here. There's no way we can get you back up there in time to stop Gill from-"
Vincent was running again, back for the elevator.
"Where the hell are you going?!" Yasi shouted after him, confused. "Don't think a head start will protect you!"
~oo00oo~
Dorcan was limping as he reached the elevator; with Dyce at his side. The doors opened, revealing Vincent, and the three of them started running immediately.
"Vandark?" Dorcan demanded as they ran.
"Dead." Vincent puffed shortly. "The Wildmen?"
"Surrendered." Dorcan returned.
Vincent's watch started beeping; and Dorcan looked at Vincent in horror.
Vincent kept running. "I know Gill. He'll give me a little longer, just because he's hopeful."
"Listen, no offense, but we've gotta hurry." Dyce grabbed Vincent by one arm, and Dorcan took the other. An instant later, Vincent felt his feet leave the floor and yelped as the two Shinobi shifted into another gear Vincent didn't have; moving down the Tunnels much faster.
"I'm really sick of being carried around." Vincent snapped. "But this once, I'll forgive you."
Vincent's feet didn't touch the floor once until they reached the door to the Throne Room.
~oo00oo~
Dorcan opened the door to the Round Table Room and Vincent hurried in. It took him a moment to realize that he was alone. "Come on!"
Dorcan shook his head. "We don't go into this room. Tradition."
Vincent sighed. "Tradition."
The door closed behind him, and he quickly went to the Chairs. It was all as he remembered it; with the curved table, the banners across the walls...
And the projectors half-hidden behind the curtains; laid out in an identical co
nfiguration to the ones Vincent had set out in the Archives Room at the City Planners Office.
"Now." He thought aloud. "If only the Triumvirate are allowed in here, then it stands to reason that they must control it somehow... If Archivist is the one that's in charge of all the information..."
Vincent went to Archivist's chair and started feeling around beneath the table. Sure enough, he found a latch and opened a concealed control panel. Like everything the Lostkind made, it was elegant and beautiful. Vincent would never have known it was there, giving the projection a feeling of being spontaneous and magical.
I'm the Wizard behind the curtain now. Vincent thought distantly, as he started turning the frequency dial. Now, if I was an on-switch, where on this panel would I be?
He checked his watch. He was several minutes overdue.
~oo00oo~
Gill was pacing back and forth, when his pager beeped.
"Vincent?" Connie asked hopefully.
Gill shook his head bleakly. "The boss. He's suddenly noticed there's a press conference upstairs, and he's wondering what they're here for."
Connie checked her watch for the fifth time in two minutes. "He's... late."
Gill gave a tiny mirthless chuckle. "He usually is. Reliable, trustworthy... not punctual."
"No." Connie agreed with a nervous giggle.
Gill looked at her sickly. "You know what that means, right?"
"Give him a few more minutes." Connie whispered softly. "Please?"
Gill looked miserable. "Connie... I've known him longer than you have; and in ten years, this is the first time he's asked me for anything bigger than a hamburger, I owe it to him to do it right; and I already gave him five more minutes... six minutes ago."
Connie sniffed. "...god. How did this happen?"
Gill pulled some cards out of his pocket. "I have a big news day to unleash."
He gave Connie a gentle kiss on the top of her head, and made his way upstairs slowly.
Connie didn't go with him. She sat staring into space for a second, looking over the equipment, the cameras, the projectors... all the things that she had helped him find...
"I helped you." Connie croaked out. "I helped you do this. You never would have found all this stuff without me... well, yes you would have. Dammit, I should have talked you out of it. We could be halfway to anywhere by now. I'm sorry Vincent. I'm so sorry!"