by John Moore
“You.”
“Me,” said Laura. She fitted another bolt into the crossbow.
“You’ve changed sides.”
“Not at all. I’ve been with Stevie all along. He just put me in the dungeon as a trick, so the others would reveal what they knew about Logan. There wasn’t time for torture, you see. Learning that Daddy switched the polarity of the Diabolical Device was a nice bonus.”
“Stevie?” Valerie was doubly stunned.“You call Lord Voltmeter Stevie?”
“I’ve been with His Lordship ever since he first heard of my father’s invention. That’s when he offered me the job of Evil Assistant.”
“I’m Lord Voltmeter’s Evil Assistant!”
“Ah,” said Laura.“We do have a problem there, don’t we?”
“You can’t be an Evil Assistant. You’re spunky! You have freckles! An Evil Overlord can’t have a spunky, freckled Evil Assistant!”
“He can’t have a disloyal one either.”
“He doesn’t!”
“Doesn’t he, Valerie? You know what I’m talking about.”
Valerie shut up.
“Up to now,” Laura continued smoothly, “I’m afraid that Stevie hasn’t been quite satisfied with my devotion. He insisted that I prove my loyalty. You know how Overlords feel about loyalty. And I’m sure you know the penalty for disloyalty.” She sighed theatrically. “Trust. So important to a relationship, so difficult to earn. Now I wonder what sort of test will make him happy?” She put a finger to a pretty cheek in thought. Then her smile brightened. “Ah,” she said again. “This should satisfy him.”
And in a second she swung the crossbow to her shoulder, turned toward the ceiling, and fired. The quick shot was deadly accurate—Mercredi fell almost instantly. His face showed only a fleeting expression of surprise, an equally fleeting grimace of pain, and he toppled off the platform, his body turning over once before it hit the floor with a wet thud.
“My God!” said Valerie.
“He betrayed Lord Voltmeter. You know the penalty.”
“You killed your own father! That is so . . . so . . .”
“Evil?” Laura cocked the crossbow again. “You’re too old for this game, Valerie. You lost your edge, went soft on us. The killer instinct has faded, I’m afraid. You even allowed Thunk to escape. You thought His Lordship didn’t know. But he did.” She reached for another bolt.
If there was one thing that could be said about Valerie, one rule that described her life, an epitaph to be engraved on her tombstone, it was that she was a girl who saw her chances and took them. The wool dress slipped from her arm. Underneath was Kevin’s sword.
“Your Highness,” she screamed, and flung the sword. Without even looking at her, Kevin caught it with one hand. Gently he laid Becky’s head on the floor. Carefully, he stood up. His eyes burned with hatred. Voltmeter had already turned away from the window. The Evil Overlord swept his cloak back, drew his saber and waited, with a bemused expression, for Kevin to make his move.
Kevin drew his sword.
Voltmeter’s expression changed.
Laura locked her eyes on Valerie while her hand scrabbled on the table for another bolt. She’s trying to stare me down, thought Valerie. Trying to fix me rigid. She spun and threw a kick at the younger girl’s head. Laura dropped the bolt and calmly stepped aside, let the spiked heel whip past her face, then reversed the crossbow, stepped in, and slammed the butt into Valerie’s stomach. Valerie doubled over. Laura knocked her down with a blow to the head. Valerie’s vision blurred as she hit the floor. Then it cleared, and she saw the crossbow bolt in front of her face. She reached for it. Laura’s foot smashed down on her hand.
“Not bad for your age,” said the redheaded girl. She pried the bolt from Valerie’s nerveless fingers. “Not much of a fight, but at least you tried. I expected you to make a run for it.”
Valerie swung at her face. Laura blocked her fist with the crossbow, then kicked her twice in the side, causing her to curl up in pain. When she looked up again Laura had the crossbow loaded and cocked and aimed at her face. “Get up,” said Laura.
Valerie lay still. “Get up,” said Laura again. “This is too easy.” Slowly, sullenly, Valerie stood up. “There’s the door. Run for it. I want a moving target this time.”
Valerie didn’t even look at the door. With a great show of disdain she bent over and dusted the knees of her leather pants. Then she planted her feet firmly on the floor, crossed her arms, and glared at Laura defiantly.
“Go on,” said Laura. “You might make it.”
Valerie didn’t move. She stared into Laura’s eyes and her expression radiated pure disgust, but she said nothing.
“Suit yourself.” Laura’s finger was tightening on the trigger when she felt a surprise tap on her shoulder. She snapped her head around quickly, but not quickly enough. She had time to catch only a glimpse. A glimpse of a fluid mass of blond curls, surrounding a pair of very angry blue eyes. And a glimpse of a fist, a small fist, clenched very tightly, coming very fast, straight at her chin.
Who the hell, she thought—and it was her last thought before blackness closed in—wears a chain-mail bra?
“That,” Said Volt meter, “is not a hero’s sword.”
Of all the weapons of single combat, there is perhaps nothing quite so nasty as the dueling saber. It’s the preferred weapon of Evil Overlords everywhere. Voltmeter was an expert with it. The dueling saber is not like the cavalry saber. The cavalry saber is a heavy piece of rigid steel, designed to run an opponent through at high speed, curved so the blade can be withdrawn easily from horseback. The dueling saber, on the other hand, is a straight piece of light metal with a thin, ultrasharp blade. In action, it can accurately be compared to a flying razor. The dueling saber is not meant to kill an enemy quickly and cleanly. It’s best used to slash an opponent and let him bleed to death. In the hands of a master, it truly becomes the death by a thousand cuts.
It was also the weapon that Kevin drew now. He held it point down, in a low guard, and faced Voltmeter full on. “I guess I’m not a hero then. But everyone has been telling me that anyway.”
“It is the type of sword an Evil Overlord uses.”
“Glad to hear it. When you’re dead I’ll have a matching set.” Voltmeter, with his sword arm held at side guard, was moving in a wide circle, forcing Kevin to keep turning to face him. Kevin was ready. He stepped forward with each turn, gradually closing the distance between himself and the Overlord.
“You miss the point, my young friend. A man’s choice of weapon says a lot about his character.”
“Oh, stow it,” said Kevin. “This is all in the book. Standard practice before we begin the final duel, eh? This is when you say something like, ‘We are not so different, you and I,’ and suggest that I join you. That’s what you were about to do, right?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. But there is a reason why the standard practice becomes the standard practice. You have a lot to gain by joining me.” In truth, Voltmeter really did have a “we are not so different speech.” But he wrote it to use on Logan. He had little use for Kevin and no intention of sparing him. He was just trying to keep his opponent distracted with talk.
Kevin wasn’t fooled. He attacked.
Becky kicked the crossbow away from the fallen girl. She took Valerie by the shoulder. “Tie her up,” she said, pushing her at the feebly stirring Laura. “I’ll take care of the phlogistocator.” She seized the hero’s sword, shoved it into the scabbard, and ran for the tall ladder.
“But Lord Voltmeter?”
Becky looked toward the windows, where the two men were squaring off for combat. “Kevin will deal with him.” She slung the sword over her back, kicked Mercredi’s body aside, and started up the ladder. A faint blue spark snapped her hand when she touched the metal. This close to the machine, she could hear a faint hum, and some sort of power was making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Halfway to the top she looked down. “Valerie, what are
you doing? Just tie her hands.”
In the short space of time, Valerie had somehow managed to bind Laura’s arms with leather straps, lock a collar around her neck, and was now trying to force a rubber ball gag into the girl’s unwilling mouth. “You play your way,” she told Becky, “and I play my way.”
Becky gave a mental shrug and kept climbing. The faint hum was slightly louder at the top, and the needles on the dials were slowly creeping upward. Her hair floated wildly around her head and made crackling sounds. She clambered across the platform and grabbed the giant T-switch with both hands. Then she hesitated. From the platform, she could see out all the windows to the outside grounds, where soldiers were still struggling and gasping like cod on a hot deck. Forty feet below, Kevin and Voltmeter were clashing swords.
“Throw the switch,” called Valerie. “What are you waiting for?”
“I can’t,” said Becky.
It is not impossible for a swordfighting novice to beat a master swordsman. In fact, it is possible in any sort of martial art, be it swordfighting, boxing, wrestling, karate, or jujitsu. The pros don’t like to admit it, but it does occur; and it’s not even particularly rare. That’s why they tend to stick to tournaments and not let themselves get drawn into street fights. The expert knows a great many advanced techniques. Experience and training have made every motion fluid and precise—and sometimes deadly—but in any given match the expert may only use a few moves. Often a single move is all that is needed to win.
The beginner will only know a few moves. But if he knows them very well, and when he’s young and very fast—well, more than one master swordsman has gone down in private duel.
Unfortunately, this did not happen with Kevin.
In truth, Kevin was not very good with a sword. He was indeed young, and quite fast, and what little he knew about saber technique, he knew very well, and that was all that kept Voltmeter from killing him in two strokes. From the first stroke he was on the defensive. Within minutes he was cut in a dozen places. Blood ran down his arms and spattered on his face. He ignored it, as he ignored the pain. His hands were a blur of motion as he sought to parry the Overlord’s blows.
“You cannot defeat me,” said Voltmeter.
“Don’t have to,” said Kevin. “Becky, pull the switch!”
Becky stood motionless, watching in horrified fascination. Down below, the two men were surrounded by arcs of glimmering light, reflected from the flashing blades. Valerie watched, too, half-hypnotized by the twirling action and rapid, dancelike footwork. (Saber duels are great for impressing babes—that was why Kevin chose to study it.) The ringing of the blades, echoing off the bare stone walls, filled the room.
Valerie tore her eyes from the two men and looked up at the platform. Becky was looking from the men to the windows, back and forth. “Becky, pull the switch.”
“I can’t,” said Becky. “He’ll die.”
Valerie realized what she meant. The phlogistocator neutralized any magical power inside the castle walls. That was why they could still breathe. But it also meant that Voltmeter’s defensive spell wouldn’t work. If Becky turned it off, the men outside would be saved, but Voltmeter could paralyze Kevin with a thought. He’d kill the Prince in a second.
She ran to the windows. Most of the soldiers were still struggling on the ground. Some of them were completely motionless. Stan was leaning over the parapet, taking notes, unaware of the battle going on in the central chamber. Voltmeter’s own men had sheathed their weapons and were simply watching in silence. “Becky, there’s no time left. The soldiers are almost dead! You’ve got to shut down the machine now!”
“But Kevin!”
“Yes, throw the switch,” sneered Voltmeter. The tip of his blade drew a line of red across Kevin’s chest. “It matters not to me. You’ll be dead either way.”
“You won’t live to see me buried,” snapped Kevin. He redoubled his efforts, and to the surprise of both men, managed a shallow cut to Voltmeter’s shoulder. “Your little protection spell might help you against one or two soldiers, but you can’t hold off an entire army. The Black Guards will chop you into hamburger.”
“I’ll kill you all.”
“You’re bluffing.” Kevin blocked a cut, dropped down to one knee, and slashed at Voltmeter’s legs. He missed, then bounced back up in time to parry a thrust to his heart. “I’ll bet you’re working around to your trapdoor right now.”
“Trapdoor? What are you talking about, you young fool?” Voltmeter drew a cut across Kevin’s forehead. He smiled as blood began seeping into the Prince’s eyes.
“All Evil Overlords have a secret trapdoor that leads to an escape route. There’s a hidden switch somewhere in this room. Everyone knows that. It’s even in the book.”
“You are an idiot who reads too much. I’ll kill you, then I’ll kill your little princess, and I’ll reset the machine and kill your army.” With a final angry blow, the Overlord knocked aside Kevin’s parry and slashed his blade across the young man’s wrist. A fountain of blood erupted. Kevin dropped his sword and clamped his hand across the wound. He stood straight up, panting, looking at Voltmeter, smiling with clenched teeth.
“Now,” said the Overlord, “I’ve made this offer before, and I’ll make it again. This is the last time. Tell your friend to get down from there, and I’ll spare both your lives.”
“Becky,” called Kevin, not taking his eyes off the Overlord, “did you hear that?”
“Yes.”
“Are you afraid?”
“No!”
“Then throw the damn switch!”
Becky threw the switch.
The machine stopped humming. She drew Thunk’s sword and chopped the handle off the switch, rendering it unmovable.
Silence filled the room. Becky shifted from one edge of the platform to the other, trying to see what was happening outside. Valerie remained by the window. Even Laura stopped struggling and stayed still. Voltmeter halted with his sword raised, about to make a cut that would separate Kevin’s head from his body. Kevin ignored him, straining his ears, listening for sounds from the windows.
The silence outside was broken by concerned voices. Voltmeter’s men were nervous. Stan was saying something unintelligible. Then there was the crisp sound of drawn swords, and a few twangs of bowstrings being let off.
Then, from outside the castle walls, they heard a familiar voice. It was Logan, shouting commands. Other voices joined in, officers re-forming their ranks, soldiers swearing. There was the clatter of hoofbeats on stone, and the band started up with a cheerful hornpipe. A flight of arrows struck the windows. And then there came the roar of a thousand voices, joined in one great long battle cry. The attack was back on.
Voltmeter turned and ran.
Becky Slid down the ladder at top speed and ran to Kevin. “Are you all right?” She knew, of course, that he wasn’t, but she wanted to be reassuring, and phrases like “You look awful” or “Oh my God!” weren’t going to do the job. She took off her blouse, tore a strip from it, and started binding up his wrist.
“Fine,” said Kevin, who clearly wasn’t. He was bleeding from a score of cuts and swaying on his feet. He ran his free hand over her chain-mail bra. With her blouse off, he could see the bright scar on the metal where the crossbow bolt had struck and glanced off. “You almost gave me a heart attack. For a minute there I really thought you were dead.”
“You were very sweet. I was so touched when you cried.”
“Yeah, well don’t expect me to do it all the time.”
“Kids,” said Valerie. “I hate to interrupt this romantic tête-à-tête, but are we getting out of here or what?”
“Where did Voltmeter get to?”
“Down here, of course.” She was kneeling by a trapdoor, set into the floor on the opposite side of the Diabolical Device. She peered into its black depths. “The hidden switch is over there.”
“Don’t go in,” said Becky. “It’s probably booby-trapped.”
&nb
sp; “He’s getting away.”
“Where can he go? The castle is surrounded.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Kevin. “The phlogistocator is going to explode. We’ve got to leave now to escape the fireball.”
“What?” said Valerie.
Becky looked the machine over. It was just sitting there, a silent, inert mass of tubing, crystal, and cast iron, with a scattering of stickers that read NEMA 7 and UL APPROVED. “What makes you think it’s going to explode?”
“The Diabolical Device always explodes after the Evil Overlord is defeated.”
“It isn’t going to explode,” said Valerie. “The insurance people inspected it just last month. It’s rated for a Class One Division Two area.”
“The book didn’t say anything about explosions,” said Becky.
“Are you two crazy?” yelled Kevin. “When you defeat an Evil Overlord, the Diabolical Device always explodes! And you have to outrun the giant fireball, see, and then you throw yourself . . .”
“Where’s the Ancient Artifact?” said Valerie.
They all looked to the top of the phlogistocator. The Ancient Artifact, which a few minutes ago had been sitting on its pedestal, was gone.
“Where is it? Did he get it?”
“I don’t see how.”
“Did he sneak back in while we were talking?”
“Maybe the machine is hollow. Maybe there’s another trapdoor on top.”
Becky leaned over the entrance to the secret passage. “We’ll have to go after him now. With the Ancient Artifact, he can start all over again. Or he might sell it to another Evil Overlord. There’s no telling what kind of damage he might do.”
“Wait,” said Kevin. He bent over and picked up his sword, swaying a little as he did so, and sheathed it. “The gift shop. No one can leave without going through the gift shop. That’s where the secret passage leads. Valerie, can you take us back to it?”