Scorched Shadows (The Hellequin Chronicles Book 7)

by Steve McHugh

  Mordred bit his tongue and kept quiet as he moved behind a large tree to figure out his next attack. Fighting head on wasn’t getting him anywhere, and despite the cold of this part of the world, combined with his magical ice, he hadn’t seen much movement in the plates that kept the gargoyle safe. If he was going to get through to the flesh under them, he needed a different strategy.

  He glanced around him, trying to figure out if anything in his surroundings was going to help in the fight, and spotted Emily’s rifle lying thirty feet away to the side. The gargoyle was close enough that if Mordred ran for it, he wouldn’t have enough time to get to the rifle and use it before the gargoyle got to him. Mordred would have liked to have gotten hold of the SG 553 again—it had silver bullets and would have probably done some damage even to a gargoyle. He couldn’t remember if silver could kill a gargoyle, but he was certain it couldn’t hurt to find out.

  “Where are you?” the gargoyle roared. “You coward. You sniveling little nothing.”

  “Aren’t you just a joy?” Mordred asked, using his air magic to throw his voice fifty feet to the right of him, deeper into the forest.

  “I’m not going to fall for that trick,” the gargoyle said.

  “You sure? You look exceptionally stupid.”

  Mordred felt a trickle of blood run down his scalp and touched it, rubbing the blood between his finger and thumb. “Damn you,” he said. “I really don’t want to be that person anymore.”

  “What are you talking about?” the gargoyle asked with a laugh. “You just gave your position away.”

  “I know.”

  Mordred stepped out, whipping a tendril of blood magic at the gargoyle, wrapping it around his arm.

  The gargoyle laughed as he walked toward Mordred. “You can’t hurt me if it doesn’t touch my skin.”

  “I know,” Mordred said, and launched a second, much thinner tendril from his other hand. It slammed into the open mouth of the gargoyle, muffling its screams as he pushed it further and further inside. The gargoyle thrashed and bucked, trying to swipe at Mordred, who remained just out of reach.

  The use of so much blood magic made a smile tug at Mordred’s lips, and he knew he could keep going. Just keep pouring more and more blood magic inside the gargoyle until there was enough to tear him in half from the inside out. Mordred stopped and switched the blood magic off as tears of blood fell from his eyes. “Not like this,” he whispered.

  The gargoyle was on his hands and knees, coughing up blood onto the snowy ground, as Mordred tried to push away the need to keep using the blood magic. It called to him, screamed at him to continue the assault on the gargoyle, to allow himself to give in, but he wouldn’t. The desire to use blood magic would always be with him, and sometimes he had to give in to that to do what needed to be done, but to use so much all at once was inviting something back into his life he wanted no part of.

  Mordred walked away from the gargoyle and picked up Emily’s rifle. He went back to the gargoyle, who was still on his knees, and fired two shots into the creature’s chest, knocking him back onto the ground and cracking one of the stone plates that covered his heart. Mordred ejected the magazine and, finding it empty, tossed the rifle aside.

  The gargoyle rolled to his side as Mordred sprinted toward his target and smashed a ball of frozen air into the cracked plate, forcing the magic inside, tearing the plate apart.

  The gargoyle screamed in pain before Mordred drove a blade of light into its chest. He poured more and more light magic into the body of the gargoyle, tearing the beast apart from the inside, and in one motion Mordred leapt back, dragging all the magic he’d put into the gargoyle out of it. The gargoyle was torn to pieces as the light magic left the body, turning everything around it into a crimson mess.

  Dozens of small balls of light flickered around in the air, until one by one they vanished, leaving Mordred alone next to what used to be a living creature.

  “Not enough of him to pick up,” Wei said from behind Mordred.

  “How long were you there?”

  “Long enough to see you kill him, not long enough to help.”

  “Morgan?”

  “They took my blood. She’ll be okay, we hope.”

  “Hope?”

  “It depends on how much venom was in her, and how strong she is.”

  “She’ll be fine, then. Where’s Emily?”

  Mordred followed silently as Wei took him to find Emily, who was lying on her side, curled up next to a large pool of vomit. Wei touched her head, and Emily groaned, but after a few seconds she was no longer green.

  “You here to kill me?” Emily asked.

  “Yes,” Mordred told her. “You tried to kill my friend. I won’t have that.”

  “You should keep me alive. You need me. Why not just let the poison kill me?”

  “Because the poison I inflict doesn’t kill,” Wei said. “It makes you wish you were dead, but it’s not lethal. I’m not an assassin. Not anymore, anyway.”

  Emily sat up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “So, this is you allowing me some dignity?”

  Mordred shook his head. “Not really, I just wanted to ask you a question. How many are up at the mountain?”

  “Few dozen blood elves.”

  “You got anything you’d like to say before you die?” Mordred asked.

  “A confession?” Emily laughed. “Why bother?”

  “Nate told me he was angry with you because he’d liked you. He felt betrayed. I kind of think he’d have liked you to die quick, with a clear conscience. Morgan is safe now, so I have a few minutes.”

  She thought for a second before sighing. “You know what? I liked Nate. He was a good guy, and it sucked that I had to play him like that. I don’t like Mara. She’s helping Abaddon and her crew, by the way.” Emily laughed. “Doesn’t have a lot of fucking choice in the matter, though. Goddamn, it was funny to see her face when she realized she was a prisoner, not an ally. She’s such a fucking asshole. If you kill her, make her suffer. I would.”

  “Anything else?” Wei asked. “Do we need to sit down for this? It sounds like you weren’t a good person.”

  “I killed dozens for Hera, and that witches’ coven. It was a shame I had to kill Gilgamesh, though, but he couldn’t be trusted to keep his mouth shut. He was all about honor, and he knew too much. Still, a rifle round was never the way. He deserved to go out in combat, although at least he died after losing in combat, so there’s that. Elaine’s alive, by the way. She’s in the mountain somewhere. I thought they’d kill her, but that Abaddon chick is really keen on keeping her alive for some reason.”

  “Abaddon?” Wei asked. “You mentioned her a moment ago. Is that the same Abaddon of old? One of the seven devils.”

  “You know her?” Emily asked.

  “By reputation, yes.” Wei looked over at Mordred. “If Abaddon is here, we’re going to want to get Elaine, Alan, and anyone else you need, and we need to leave. Soon.”

  “She scary, I take it?” Mordred asked.

  “She’s going to kill you all,” Emily said. “Like, all of you: your friends, family, their pets, the people who cut their hair. Literally anyone who knows you. She does not mess around.” She stared at Mordred for a heartbeat. “You want to know how I used magic to mask my scent, don’t you? I can tell. You keep me alive and maybe I’ll tell you.”

  “No thanks, I’m good.”

  “I’ll tell you all about real magic. The stuff you can’t even comprehend.”

  Mordred created a thin blade of ice on the palm of his hand. He held it between two fingers. “Real magic. You don’t know anything about real magic.” He threw the blade of ice at Emily, catching her in the eye and piercing her brain. “And now you never will.”

  Wei drew a dagger and jammed it into the witch’s heart. “I hear they can come back if you don’t destroy the heart,” she said.

  A second later Mordred was running back to Morgan. He almost leapt down the cliff at one point, b
ut thankfully his better judgment took over and he was soon back inside the prison and found Mac standing beside a still-unconscious Morgan.

  “She’ll make it,” Mac told him. “She’s strong. Stronger than most.”

  Mordred continued to look down at Morgan and smiled. “The strongest I know.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Mordred

  The twenty minutes that passed after Morgan had been given the antivenom were some of the longest in Mordred’s exceptionally lengthy life. Apart from Mac and Morgan, everyone was outside the prison building, sitting on the steps of a hut as Fiona paced up and down.

  Two minutes after that, Fiona demanded that everyone get going. “We don’t know what’s going on up there,” she said. “We need to get moving.”

  “We can’t leave Morgan down here,” Remy said. “And we can’t exactly cart her up the bloody hill, either. She’s not strong enough to be moved like that. And it’s not like Mac is in fine fighting form, either. He needs a proper source of water to get healing. Lying in the snow is only a stopgap.”

  “How about using the truck I brought?” Wei asked.

  “Could Morgan be moved to the truck?” Mordred asked. He understood Fiona’s need to find her husband, but his thoughts were with Morgan, and he knew once up there he needed to ensure his attention wasn’t split.

  “You know what’s strange?” Nabu asked. “There are no radios here. There is literally no way for these people to contact anyone up above.”

  “They’re the sacrificial lambs,” Diana said. “Left here to be the first casualties. I assume that’s what the witch, Emily, was up there for.”

  “Waiting for us,” Remy said. “I’ve looked around at some of the bodies here, and they’re a mixture of human mercenaries and some of the prisoners from The Hole. No one with any real power or influence died here today.”

  Mordred looked his way. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “Morgan is going to be fine,” Remy assured him. “She’s not exactly the type to just pack it all in. She kept you under lock and key for over a thousand years, and every single time you escaped to go do whatever craziness you needed to do, she hunted you down. Doesn’t strike me as the behavior of someone who gives up easily.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “On the plus side, I found a lot of walkie-talkies. They’re digital, and I can’t pick up any chatter from anyone else, but we can use them to communicate between one another.”

  Mordred’s heart sang a little as Mac and Nabu walked out of the prison with Morgan, who was leaning on Mac for support. Mordred rushed over.

  “Easy there,” Morgan said before Mordred could hug her. She looked pale and tired, and more than a little weak. “I’m not exactly healed.”

  “But you are alive?” He looked at Mac. “She’s not a zombie or anything, right?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Mac told her. “With rest.”

  “We don’t exactly have a lot of time for resting up,” Remy said.

  “Well, Morgan will need to rest for several hours before she can use her magic. Doing so beforehand could cause the venom’s damage to become irreversible.”

  “Gargoyle venom is potent,” Nabu said. “But many people survive with an antivenom. I helped as best I could, but Mac has a much better bedside manner than me. There are some things it seems you can’t learn.”

  “So, she needs to sit and rest,” Mordred said. “Looks like you get to sit in the backseats of the truck.”

  “I have you to thank,” Morgan said to Wei.

  “Little old me?” Wei said. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, the longer we stay here, the more likely it is that something unbelievably bad is happening up there, so let’s get moving. Morgan and Mac can stay in the truck and keep their heads down. That okay with you?”

  Morgan nodded. “I don’t think I’m going to be doing much moving in the next few hours. I’m sorry, I should have been on the lookout for snipers.”

  “You couldn’t have seen her,” Mordred said. “She was invisible to any senses, and she hid herself behind some rocks up there.”

  “She’s dead, though,” Wei said. “Very dead actually. I made sure of it.”

  “How can you be very dead?” Remy asked. “Surely dead is dead?”

  “Things sometimes come back. I’ve seen it happen. More than one witch has returned from an early grave.”

  The horn of a pickup truck sounded at the edge of the village, and everyone turned to see Fiona open the driver’s door and motion to the dark-blue-and-black vehicle. It was big enough to seat five inside the cabin, with enough space in the open flatbed to seat a few more.

  “That’s a pickup truck,” Remy said. “I was expecting, you know, a fucking great truck.”

  “You mean a lorry?” Diana asked.

  “Yeah, a lorry. A big, building-crushing lorry.”

  “The Mitsubishi is the best I could get on short notice,” Wei said. “You’re welcome to walk, if you like.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like the pickup truck,” Remy said. “I was just expecting something a little bigger. I call shotgun.”

  “No,” Diana said as they all walked toward the pickup. “You don’t get to call shotgun.”

  “I can see the vehicle; therefore I can call shotgun.”

  “Let him have it,” Mac said as he and Mordred helped Morgan walk toward the pickup. “Morgan and I will sit in the back. Nabu, can you join us? Just in case we need some more medical expertise.”

  Nabu nodded.

  “I guess that leaves Wei, Diana, and me in the flatbed,” Mordred said.

  “I’ll be going up front,” Wei said. “I move faster on my own.” Without another word, she turned into a fox and sprinted up past the pickup, moving faster than any fox had a right to move.

  “How does she do that?” Remy asked.

  “Nine-tails sort of exist between realms,” Diana said. “It means they can move in a way that no one else can, but only for short periods of time. Takes some getting used to.”

  Diana picked up two more Sig assault rifles and placed them in the back of the pickup. “Just in case.”

  “Can’t hurt,” Mordred said, helping Mac and Morgan into the rear of the cab. When he was certain Morgan was okay, Mordred climbed into the rear of the pickup and found that two small benches had been installed along with some straps to hold on to. He wrapped himself in tendrils of air, moving them around the rear of the pickup, anchoring himself in place.

  “Feel better now?” Diana asked with a slight smirk.

  “Not really,” Mordred said. “But slightly safer.”

  Diana shook her head and banged on top of the Mitsubishi’s roof, and the engine roared as Fiona took them all up the path toward the mountain above.

  Mordred found the pickup to be surprisingly robust and more than capable of handling the off-road dirt-track-like path, as well as the increasingly thick snow. They used the tracks of previous vehicles to stay on the right.

  “There’s no one up there,” Diana said as they drove closer to the settlement in the mountains.

  “You sure?” Mordred asked. “That witch hid from you.” Mordred removed the air tethering him to the pickup and banged on the roof of the pickup. Fiona slammed on the brakes, causing Mordred to fall down.

  “Sorry, I thought you were banging because we were in trouble,” Fiona called out.

  Mordred dropped down over the side of the truck and walked to the driver’s window. “I’m not sure yet. Diana can’t smell anyone. And we’re too far away for me to see anyone. Doesn’t mean there’s no one there.”

  “We stay and wait for Wei,” Diana said. “She won’t be long.”

  Fiona parked the pickup on the side of the trail. Once everyone besides Morgan and Mac were out, she placed her hands on the pickup and closed her eyes. The pickup vanished from view, as if it had never been there at all, and the new tracks that she’d created in the snow did the same, leaving no signs.

  “It�
�ll last a few hours,” Fiona said. “It’s not one of my best illusions, but you do what you can with the time you have to work with.”

  “Has anyone ever said how scary conjurers are?” Remy asked.

  “My husband on a regular basis,” Fiona said with a smile. She looked up the trail and breathed out slowly.

  “We’ll find him,” Morgan said from inside the pickup.

  “The disembodied voice is going to take some getting used to,” Mordred said. “What happens to the illusion if they have to leave the truck?”

  “It’ll vanish fairly quickly. It’s not designed to take many changes to its current state. They can move around inside as much as they like, but once a door opens that’s it.”

  “You guys hear that?” Diana asked.

  “Stay put, don’t piss around,” Mac said. “Yeah, we got it.”

  A fox came running down the hill toward them, turning into Wei midleap. “It’s almost empty.”

  “The settlement above?”

  She nodded. “I sense one woman. That’s it. Whoever is digging up in the mountain carved a huge chunk of it out of the side of the rock up there. I got as close as I dared but couldn’t see anyone. There’s a notice board with a map of the mountain interior on it. It looks like the tunnels that go down into the mountain go much further than when I was last here.”

  Mordred passed a walkie-talkie to everyone. “I’ll go up with Wei, Nabu, Diana, and Fiona. Remy, you stay here with Morgan and Mac, and if it’s clear, we’ll let you know and you can head on up.”

  No one had any issues with his idea, and they set off on the several-minute walk up an increasingly steep slope, until it plateaued after several hundred feet, opening up into the large settlement that Wei had visited.

  “It’s over there, the portable cabin near the cave entrance.” Wei pointed to a blue-and-white building.

  “Just one woman?”

  “Unless there are dozens in here who all have the same markings as the witch, yes. I made a thorough check, and there are no signs that anyone has been here in the last few hours.”

  The group used the edge of the settlement for cover, moving between temporary buildings until they’d reached the cabin in question. Fiona walked over and tried the handle but found it locked.