by C L Walker
“Dave,” I said, snapping my fingers. “Dave, I need you to focus please.”
I could take what I wanted, but I didn’t know what his reaction would be. If the first thing that happened to him once he exerted his free will was an unprovoked attack by the person who’d convinced him to think for himself, what would he do next?
“Where did the world go?” Dave said. “Where did it all go?”
I tried to imagine what he was going through but I couldn’t. I could remember the past and imagine the future, but to see it all in one go, to know it intimately? To experience any moment of your life at will, from the beginning to the end? That was something I couldn’t grasp.
“Dave, please.”
His eyes stopped bouncing around and he finally focused on me. He was terrified, dropped into the darkness and freefalling, and I was going to make it worse before it got better.
“What is my purpose, now?” he said. He looked like he was going to cry.
“Your purpose is to power me, so we can get out of here. Your purpose is to save the people of this heaven from my crazy wife and her plans for universal domination. Alright?”
He thought about it and I let him; I couldn’t fight him and I needed him, so letting him come to the decision himself seemed the safest bet. In the end he nodded and I smiled.
I rolled up his sleeve while I spoke to him. “Who else is here that shouldn’t be?”
“The woman, Erindis, and her fallen angels. Others come and go; fallen, I mean.”
“Hollow men.”
“Yes, hollow men. There’s a man with long hair who marks her skin, and a woman she keeps in a cage. One of the fallen is treated worse than the others. He might also be someone you’re interested in.”
Roman, Bec, and Buddy. It had to be, and it sounded like something Erindis would do. Treat my friends badly to get back at me, but forget to tell me she was doing it.
“Alright, Dave, we’re going to have to save them. Do you understand?”
He was looking more aware of the world, clearer and more focused. He was slowly coming to grips with what he’d done and what his life now looked like. Angels were smart and they didn’t lose that when they became hollow men; he’d be alright, in time.
He nodded. “I know what was supposed to happen here.”
“Tell me later. First let’s go make our own future.”
“No, it’s important.” He grabbed my hands and held them in place, his strength so much greater than mine that I couldn’t have hoped to resist. “She is about to achieve what she wants. She is almost there, though she doesn’t know it yet. You would have been used a few more times and then put away, never to be summoned again. She leaves your locket here when she goes and it stays in the temple until the end of time. The other one, Bannon, stays here too, going crazier and crazier.”
I didn’t care about Bannon, but knowing Erindis was close to finishing her plan was interesting. It changed things a little.
“Why do I need to know this?” I said. He still had my hands held tight in his.
“Because she is coming back already,” he said. “She is walking down the entryway as we speak.”
“Dammit, Dave.” I looked at his hands until he got the message and let me go. “Cut yourself,” I said. “I need the blood.”
He nodded and ran his thumbnail down his arm, drawing a line of blood that oozed slowly from the wound.
I put my hand on the line and let the tattoos feed. The room lit up with the glow from the marks on my skin, a blood red light that filled the space.
“I need you to stay close and tell me where to go,” I said. “Do you understand?”
“You want to save your people. I understand.”
“Then let’s go.”
I ran for the wall beside the door. I knew the guard was waiting on the other side, stewing about being left behind. I hit the wall with a shield up and ready, smashing the stone out of the way and crushing the man on the other side.
Erindis stood at the end of the long corridor leading outside. She was surprised, but the tattoos on her body glowed as she prepared to defend herself.
I didn’t have time to deal with her, and she’d have reinforcement that could destroy Dave and I without thinking. No, I had to leave.
I formed a lance of magical energy and threw it at her. She dodged but the power hit the stone roof above her. It exploded, bringing down the floor above and tons of stone, crushing her.
“Which way?” I said.
“Which one do you want to save first?” Dave said.
“The nearest, Dave. Just pick one.”
He pointed in a direction and I went that way, climbing up the debris and into the next floor up.
Dave pointed down another corridor and I ran, trusting the angel to know what he was doing. He could have been about to double cross me in exchange for what I’d made him do, or he could be leading me the wrong way because he was confused now that he didn’t know everything, but I had no other guide so I trusted blindly.
We found Roman first. He was in a room, beaten and naked, blood on his hands. He was chained to the wall with a shackle around his ankle, lying on a thin, holey blanket.
“Time to go, hedge-mage,” I said. I grabbed the shackle and tore it apart, then slapped him lightly to get him to pay me some attention. “Can you walk?”
“Agmundr?” he said, his face lighting up. “Agmundr?”
“No time. Can you walk?”
“No. I…I don’t think so.”
“Dave, can you fix him?” The tattoos on my skin could do many amazing things, but the cleric had never thought I’d need to save anyone’s life. It was an oversight I found deeply annoying.
Dave moved in and held his hands over Roman. There was a moment of glowing energy, hidden form my view but bright enough to counter the red light from the tattoos, and then Roman was getting up.
“Where did you come from?” he said. “I thought she was using Bannon.”
“He ran dry, so she brought me out.”
“That was a mistake,” he said. “Your wife isn’t that smart.”
“Dave, where’s the next one?”
We ran where he told us to, leading up a grand staircase to a hall that could only have one purpose. It was her throne room.
The roof was half a mile high and pointed, like the inside of a great pyramid that had never existed. Smooth stone floors and columns that couldn’t be supporting the weight of the building, and a red carpet leading to the raised dais and the throne.
Bec was there, in a rusty cage, also naked. She was filthy, like they’d been pouring slop on her or something.
I grabbed the side of her cage and tore it open. There was no lock on it, no hinges. The cage was never meant to open.
She was terrified, in a way she never was. She looked at me like I was the devil come to eat her soul.
“What’s wrong with her?” I said to Dave.
Erindis answered, her voice booming from the entrance to the hall.
“I gave her emotions. She isn’t handling it well.”
Chapter 16
Guards streamed in, hollow men and regular souls with swords and guns. They filled the sides of the hall and the gallery above. There were a hundred of them, but I was only worried about her.
“What purpose does this serve?” I said. I boosted my voice with the tattoos to match hers.
“Enjoyment? Retribution?” She walked into the hall, calm and confident. She was sure of herself and surrounded by warriors who did as they were told.
We were in trouble.
Buddy appeared from behind the throne. The hollow man was wearing the suit I’d last seen him in, but it was torn and dirty. His skin was marked with cuts and bruises and his hair had started to fall out. He looked so different I barely recognized him.
“The gang is all back together,” Erindis said, laughing. “I was wondering when I would show their deaths. Now is as good a time as any.”
Bec was cl
inging to me, a hungry desperation controlling her. Her eyes were fixed on Erindis though, and there was nothing but raw hate there.
“They did nothing to you,” I said. I disentangled myself from Bec, handing her to Dave to take care of. He clasped my arm as he took her, smearing blood on the tattoos.
I started toward her, my skin lighting up. The hall turned red as she did the same.
Not just her; the hollow men had tattoos as well, and they were glowing in preparation. Some had only one or two, their functions unknown to me. One of the fallen angels was clearly the favorite though, and when he stepped forward he glowed almost as bright as me.
Peter, the warrior angel I had once tried to lead. His skin looked pale now, beside the light of the marks etched on his skin. He had always been an angry creature, sure of his superiority and ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Now he was equipped to do it, even when facing me.
She had built an army, enhancing beings who were already more powerful than most. She had prepared in case I escaped, and she had done well.
“Don’t kill him,” she called out. “I still need him alive.”
She didn’t know what would happen if they killed me, and that gave me an advantage. I could do anything to them and they had to be careful. Being careful was no way to fight a battle.
The first of the hollow men attacked, his old body moving in ways that made it look as unnatural as it was. The others advanced a moment later, ten, no twenty old men with glowing red tattoos racing toward me.
This was what I knew how to do. No puzzles or prisons to escape. No people to save or arguments to have.
Bloodshed. Chaos. This was my life.
The first man jumped at me and I rolled with it, taking his momentum and using it to slam him into the ground. I punched his chest, breaking through the bone so I could grab his heart and squeeze. He died screaming and I absorbed his power.
And then they were on top of me, a legion of empowered dead, punching and kicking, slashing and stabbing. The tattoos raised shields and reacted more quickly than I could, but it was up to me to whittle them down.
I fought quickly, efficiently, striking where it would do the most damage. If I saw an opening that would take one out of the fight for a minute I took it, trusting that there would be fewer for me to face when they got up again.
I snapped a man’s arm as another drove me to the ground. I didn’t let go and the movement tore the limb off, spraying me in blood. It sprayed the hollow men as well and their own tattoos devoured the life-force on offer. I grabbed the head of the hollow man who had driven me to the ground, squeezing it in the crook of my arm until I heard bones crack. I squeezed again and his limbs jerked for a moment before he went still.
No power stolen from that one but I was overflowing. I sped up and everything around me slowed down. For a moment they became like statues, their movements to slow to register on me. They would speed up in moments, but moments were all I needed.
I grabbed two and smashed their heads together, crushing them until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. I kicked through another’s ribcage while grabbing the hollow man behind me and throwing him at a clump of them.
They sped up too, matching me. But half of them were down and I was barely winded. A dagger flashed and I grabbed the hand holding it a heartbeat before it pierced my skin. I crushed the hand and took the dagger, turning it on the next man and stabbing him through his neck. When I tore it out the blade took most of the flesh of his throat with it. He went down gasping.
They would heal if I didn’t kill them, and I knew my next step had to be finishing off the wounded. I turned to do that and found them pulling back, limping and crawling away, leaving me in a circle of calm.
I slowed down as Peter stepped in front of Erindis and began walking my way. He drew a sword from the air, a glittering, elven thing that didn’t look solid enough to cut fruit, let alone an enemy. But if he carried it I knew it would be a great weapon. The tattoos threw up a stronger shield, something that took more power but should last a moment longer.
“I get why she’s doing this,” I said as he approached. “But what’s your excuse for this lunacy?”
“We’re angels. We need a purpose and we need a god. She is our god.”
“She is a confused old woman,” I replied. I could see he didn’t like me insulting her.
The religious were always the easiest to rile up.
“You should show more respect,” he said. He stopped ten feet away and raised his sword, ready to begin. “My god has your friends.”
I turned without thinking; Erindis stood on the dais, watching the carnage and smiling her sick smile. Bec lay on the floor at her feet, trembling in fear while Buddy bowed his head and tried not to move. Roman was nowhere to be seen.
Dave was gone, which was probably wise. It’s what I would have done in his position.
“Alright,” I said. I put my hands up. “Don’t hurt them.”
Erindis spoke, her voice rocking the pyramid like an earthquake.
“No. You need to be taught a lesson. Peter, cut him down.”
I turned back as Peter’s sword crashed into my shield and cut right through it. I dove to the side and barely managed to escape.
Erindis had my friends and my only backup had run away. Peter was a warrior angel and he was enhanced with tattoos I couldn’t identify.
“You’re dead,” I said anyway, launching myself at the fallen angel.
Chapter 17
My strategy was simple: beat him until he bled, and then rip him apart with his own life-force. As far as plans went it was basic, which was best in a life or death struggle.
I tackled him low, lifting him off his feet before slamming into the stone floor. He let go of his sword and it spun away.
I punched his kidneys, hard enough to break the skin and crack his hipbone. He was bleeding, and the tattoos fed on his power hungrily.
His knee came up, crashing into my head and knocking me away. I landed a few feet from him, tucking into a roll and ending on my feet as he rose from the ground. He was already healed and ready for more.
His sword, beautiful, almost ethereal, lay within reach. I grabbed it and took up a fighting position. I had no idea how to wield the lightweight thing, but it was better than having nothing.
He raised his arm and the sword evaporated, appearing in his waiting hand.
“Impressive trick,” I said. I was concentrating on getting the tattoos to build a better shield, something that could hold up against his sword. I let them get on with it, mentally promising to take care of myself until they were done.
“It is an extension of my essence,” he said. He walked toward me slowly, swaggering, so confident I could barely stop myself from lunging at him just to knock the smile off his face.
“Like a penis?” I said. He didn’t like my words. “It’s a little girly for a penis, don’t you think? Shouldn’t you get something bigger, stronger? Seems more fitting.”
“You are a fool, Agmundr.” He stopped and raised the blade, ready for another strike.
“Or, are you telling me that’s what your penis looks like? Is it elfin, thin and stretched out?”
“I’m going to enjoy hurting you,” he said.
“Because I don’t think that’s normal,” I continued. It was irritating him and I had nothing else.
He attacked, swiping at me with the blade. I ducked and retreated, looking for an opening to punch him and finding nothing. I had to step around the bodies of the hollow men and it was slowing me down. He gained ground, his attacks made with precision but hitting nothing but air.
I fell, tripping over a body and landing on my back. He was on me in a moment, stabbing at me with enough force to crack the stone beneath me.
I rolled and he lifted the blade before it could damage the floor. He pulled his arms back for another try and I kicked him, driving him back a short way.
My hand was on a pistol, I realized.
It had fallen from a hollow man’s belt and I’d landed on it.
Peter attacked and I fired on him, emptying the weapon into his chest.
Nothing. Peter stopped and looked down at the bloodless wounds. He smiled, his smile a mirror of the sadistic one on the face of his god.
I had to run. I knew it. I had to do what Dave had done and save myself, but Bec and Roman and Buddy were relying on me.
Dammit, I thought. Regaining my humanity made me vulnerable. Everything about my time in Fairbridge had made me vulnerable.
And I wouldn’t trade it, I knew. I’d do it again, though I’d try to do it better. But I’d do it again.
Peter stabbed at me again and reflexively I defended myself with the tattoos, disrupting their work on the better shield. I had felt the energy gathering and being woven, expertly turned into something I could use.
Now it was wasted and they’d have to start again, but I was alive.
I rolled back and to my feet, then continued moving backward as Peter advanced, curving his sword through the air in a figure-eight. I couldn’t get through and I couldn’t use the tattoos.
How much could it hurt, really? It was the only thing I could think of; stupid, reckless, and desperate.
I ran at him, jumping over the body of a hollow man and preparing for the bite of the blade.
He hit me in the leg, driving it out from under me. My forward momentum carried me into him anyway and I took him down with me. I slammed my forehead into his face as I grabbed his hands and pinned them to the ground. The sword had spun away again, not that disarming him seemed to help.
I did it again, driving my forehead into his face, crushing his nose, breaking his skull. Blood burst from him and showered me, but he was laughing. It took me a moment to realize it as I kept hitting him, but he was laughing.
I drew his hands above his head, fighting him and winning, and pinned him with one hand. With the other I tried to take his heart. I punched, throwing all my strength behind it. My hand broke, the bones cracking and sending a shockwave of pain up my arm.