by Ben Hale
The staircase continued much further than he'd anticipated, and led him halfway up the Spirus. Ultimately it let out onto the floor that contained the Air Transit Agency. Instead of stepping into a collection of desks, he exited the stairs to find himself in a secret room.
The circular chamber was large, and carried the smell of age and dust. Old weaponry lined the walls, and a faint air source hung from the ceiling. An ancient desk sat to one side, while several bookshelves hugged the wall. Moving air formed the round wall, creating an ever turning ring of swirling wind.
On the opposite side of the room stood an arched doorway that led to the rest of the level. Beyond the ethereal wind he could see the desks and offices. Walls and furniture alike flowed in solid wind, leaving wisps of cool air to dissipate. It was obvious the space was invisible from the other side.
In spite of the secrecy of the hall, three occupants were present. All turned to face him with surprise on their features. The center one cocked her head. "How does the Swordsman return to us?" Alice asked.
"With a hungry blade," he replied, and clenched his fist.
She frowned. "However you regained your memory, your timing is not ideal." Her gaze flicked to the two men beside her. "Deal with him, and then meet me above." Casting the Swordsman a disdainful look, she swept from the room.
Rook smiled. "I have to admit, I hated the idea of you without your memory. It would leave you without the chance to die by my hand. Remind me, what's the score for us?"
"You've never bested me, Rook, because until now you have not been my adversary. Are you certain you want to be so now?"
Harry laughed. "You have no chance against us. You are just one assassin against two. Why even draw your sword? Give it up and we'll make this quick.
The last of his words was said as his body began to change. His middle-aged overweight from began to thicken and grow. Clothing merged into flesh, and his muscles swelled with strength. A silver mane grew across his back as his stature doubled, and a spiked head melded into view. Last to appear, the end of the arms became claws bearing a shard of steel extending from behind the hand.
The Swordsman had never seen one, but recognized it immediately, a silver reaver. Infamous in ancient days, they had been driven nearly to extinction by mages wishing to harvest the blades extending from their forearms. Thousands may have died in the effort, but that only made the item more valuable. Only a handful of silver reavers remained, and somehow Harry had gotten close enough to touch one. It was the only way a phylus could become a creature.
The Swordsman issued a scornful laugh. "Will you ever stop compensating for being bald?"
The silver reaver issued a thundering roar, its toothy maw spitting froth onto the floor. Rook grinned. "Careful Swordsman. Harry doesn't like being reminded of his lack of hair."
Harry rounded on him, and Rook raised his hands as if to say, It's true, isn't it? When the reaver issued a furious grumble, Rook began to drift apart from Harry.
"You know, this chamber was built by Orison, the first master of the Air Transit Agency. It was rumored that he had a penchant for experimentation, and had built a secret prison to house his subjects. Until Alice found it, the secret had died with him. I do believe you are the first to ever escape from his cells."
They had moved to flank him, with the giant reaver on his left. The Swordsman waited, his senses tuned, while he prepared his mind. In every battle there was a pause where the combatants stood on the verge of battle. The moment spoke volumes of what was to come.
Always eager, Harry surged into motion first. His mighty legs launched him into a charge that crossed half the distance in the span of a heartbeat. It reared its arm back, intending to impale the Swordsman.
Ready for the attack, the Swordsman cast a strength spell and leapt to the circular wall. His shadowhook managed to hold him aloft, clinging to the flowing magic. He held on tight as the wind swept him around the curve of the room. Unable to stop his charge, Harry could only skid to a stop and duck as the Swordsman glided past him.
Meant for his head, the Swordsman's blade shaved the top of the reaver's skull and took half the silver mane. Bits of flesh and hair drifted to the ground as Rook began to laugh in the background. Enraged, Harry spun and charged.
The Swordsman added an agility spell to his body and unhooked from the wall as he passed a bookshelf. He re-caught the shadows near the floor and continued to rotate around the room. The bookshelf exploded as the reaver plowed through it.
The Swordsman reached the doorway to the Spirus and released. Rolling on the ground to absorb the momentum, he slid through the exit and darted to the side. The magic of the archway burst apart as the bone-armored reaver slammed into it. Wind dissipated and scattered, leaving a gaping hole in the wall and a cloud of vapor drifting to the floor.
From the shadows on the side the Swordsman struck, his blade cutting deep into the back of Harry's knee. Harry roared in pain and stumbled, scattering desks like leaves as he tried to right himself. Then he swung his arm wide.
The blow was fast, faster than the Swordsman could block. On reflex he ducked and slid under the shard of steel. Coming up on the other side he ricocheted off a desk and rolled out of reach.
Bellowing in fury, Harry lunged after him. Offices blew apart and windwalls dissipated as he barreled through them. Swallowing the rising bile from so much magic, the Swordsman added a speed spell. Then he raced across the floor inches ahead of the expanding carnage.
Harry swung his arms together, attempting to sheer the Swordsman in half. They closed on air as the Swordsman leapt. Catching an ornament hanging from the ceiling, he used it to swing back toward the reaver. Again the creature ducked, but the Swordsman had sheathed his sword when he'd jumped. Arching his path over the reaver's back, he drew the stock of his ethereal crossbow. It solidified into shape and he thumbed the paralyzing rune. He landed and released three bolts in quick succession.
One glanced off bone, but the other two sank into grey flesh. The reaver was already turning, so the Swordsman rotated—to find Rook approaching from the secret room. Rook softened the floor, and it opened up to receive the Swordsman. Out of options, the Swordsman leaned toward the reaver and caught the bladed arm as it streaked above his head.
The Swordsman sucked in his breath as the flesh of his arm split, but he held on until Harry tried to shake him off. He released when it suited him best. Off-balance, it took all of his skill to rotate his body into a landing that wouldn't break his bones. As it was he felt a rib crack when he slammed into a desk. Grunting in pain, he pulled his sword and swung to face his adversaries. Rook bore an odd expression, almost confused, while Harry had limped back several paces.
"Is it desperation that drives you?" Rook asked.
His advance was cautious while the Swordsman held his ground. "Loathing," he corrected. His tone was like a slap in the face, and Rook's expression clouded with anger.
"You judge me so harshly?" he said, his voice rising in anger.
He swung his arm forward and a cloud of acid green erupted from his hand. The Swordsman again leapt to the ceiling, and used his shadowhook to catch one of the streams of air flowing across it. The course carried him mostly in Harry's direction, but kept him away from the expanding disease cloud.
Harry had begun to shift form while the Swordsman had been distracted, but he shifted back when it was clear he didn't have time. Going on the offensive, the Swordsman dropped to the ground and sidestepped the overhand blow from the arm blade. Then he dived over the arm as Harry swung sideways.
The Swordsman's cloak was shredded but he had closed the gap. Diving past the uninjured leg, he swept his sword across the knee. With most of his weight on it, Harry came crashing down as the tendons were cut.
The Swordsman dived away from the retaliating swing—but not fast enough. The reaver blade gashed his side, sending him sprawling to the ground. Grinding his teeth, the Swordsman added a healing spell to his overtaxed body and forced hims
elf to his feet. His motion halting and laced with agony, he kept the reaver's body between him and Rook.
The two began to circle, looking for an opening. Harry rotated in place, trying to face the Swordsman. Every time he did the Swordsman darted in. Bone chipped and flesh opened under his sword. Each time the reaver failed to bring his might to bear. Without movement he was like a caged bear—still dangerous, but unable to extend his reach.
As the seconds dragged by, Harry's movements became frustrated. Rook grunted in annoyance as he was unable to get past the large body of his companion. Every time he tried the Swordsman moved to stay opposite him. The Swordsman's own injuries made it unwise for him launch an attack, and Harry was equally handicapped.
Time was not on the Swordsman’s side. Silver reaver's had a remarkable ability to regenerate. It was only a matter of time before he regained the use of his legs. Injured as he was, the Swordsman had no choice but to wait for his healing spell to take effect. Forcing himself to stay on the move, the Swordsman sought for an opening that did not exist.
Then it appeared.
Drawing his crossbow, he sent two exploding bolts into the ground at Harry's feet. Harry had moved his weight onto the spot that Rook had softened. The two bolts struck the ground and detonated. Normally sufficient to kill a man, the fires merely singed the bone armor on the reaver—but left a gaping hole in the floor.
Bellowing his rage, Harry collapsed through the floor in a tremendous crash. The Swordsman darted toward the hole and leapt over. Aiming his crossbow one handed, he sent a full volley of paralyzing bolts into the reaver. Skidding to a stop on the opposite side, he whirled and pointed his bow at Rook a dozen steps away.
"I always figured you were holding back," Rook said. His voice was annoyed.
"You weren't my enemy," the Swordsman replied.
"And now?"
The Swordsman fired, and the bolt bored a hole through Rook’s chest. Rook began to laugh as he advanced, his flesh knitting over as blood seeped into his clothing. Switching to his blade, the Swordsman plunged it into Rook's stomach. Rook punched him in return. Laced with disease, the blow sent him to the floor. Rook sighed and pulled the sword from his body.
"We could have been a good team, Swordsman," he said. He tossed the Swordsman's blade aside. Then he reached down and lifted him by his throat. "But I guess you already chose yours."
The Swordsman's body became a battleground of magics—Rook's disease against his healing spell. The disease was far stronger, and a fever burst onto the Swordsman's features. Vomit rose within him, but he fought the words out.
"I did choose my team, Rook."
Rook frowned, but never spoke again. Distracted as he was, he hadn't noticed the light above his head getting bright. Blinking in sudden understanding, he dropped the Swordsman and began to turn—but the Swordsman pulled a knife and plunged it through Rook's foot. It sank deep into the floor below. Rolling to the side he stabbed Rook's other foot. Enchanted as climbing tools, they refused to budge as Rook bent down and tried to melt them.
The light continued to build, and the Swordsman forced himself to his feet and stumbled away. Rook began to scream as the light seared his flesh to the point that it could not repair. Desperation flashed across his scorched features, and then the almighty asunder hex overcame his healing spells. His shriek was cut off as his entire form was vaporized.
The Swordsman covered his eyes until the light began to fade, and when he looked back Rook was gone. Only a hole remained, a hole that continued down for several floors.
He closed his eyes in relief. "I have to admit I wasn't sure you'd come."
Indigo straddled him. "I left you your gear, didn't I?"
"You did," he said, and smiled at her.
With her blue hair in disarray she'd never looked so beautiful. For the first time he wondered why he'd been so afraid to tell her his true name. Perhaps it was the delirium from Rook's magic, but he felt like they had never broken off their relationship, like he still had a chance. Her expression seemed to match his emotions.
"Ronin," the Swordsman admitted, and her eyes widened. "You wanted to know my name and now you do."
The admission spoke volumes. For the assassin's in the guild it was their greatest secret. To reveal it was to place themselves at their most vulnerable. When she had told him hers, the Swordsman had recognized it as a much more than a name. It had demonstrated the depth of her feelings for him.
Her eyes tight with emotion, she abruptly leaned down and kissed him. Flashing a smug smile, she stood and pulled him up.
"We'll talk about this later," she said. "For now we have a target to kill."
"What about Harry?"
She shrugged. "He turned into a cockroach and did what he does best."
The last of Rook's spell dissipated, and he sighed in relief. Then motioned her forward. "Ladies first."
She laughed and led the way after Alice.
Chapter 46: Last Stand
Wounded and weak, Breaker stood his ground as Varson cast curse after curse. The stone around him glowed red hot and melted to slag—but still answered his will. It lifted from the ground in the whip curse. Rising like a hissing snake, it snapped at Varson as he flew. Varson dodged, but the searing stone clipped his shoulder, sending him tumbling away.
All around them the battle had dissolved into duels. Mages and aurens fought side by side, fighting for their lives against a superior enemy. They could not last, and Breaker knew it. Then the techno shroud came down.
Helicopters burst from the hidden hanger and roared into the conflict. The armored gunships strafed the enemy position, tearing into the Harbingers with large caliber rounds. The next moment a pair of F-18's roared by, and dropped a massive bomb into a knot of Harbingers. The resulting explosion could not be contained by a hasty charm, and the entire unit died.
"You can't win this!" Varson screamed at him. "We follow the Master!"
Breaker called up a goliath charm, and wrapped himself in stone. "I follow the Oracle."
Varson's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Even she cannot defeat the Master!" His voice had become shrill.
Without warning a massive blast of power came from high in the Spirus, shattering the windows across the level. Visible through the gaps, magic struck with brutal savagery from unseen combatants. Without a word Varson abandoned their fight and sped toward it. Breaker turned his attention to other foes, and mentally passed a message to Uri informing Jack of Varson's position. He lifted his gaze skyward as the ground darkened.
The swarm of bats blackened the sky as they engaged the attack choppers above Auroraq, but the damage had been done. Their line broken, the Harbingers retreated back to Northpoint. Breaker issued a bellowing challenge that rallied his scattered force. They roared back at him.
"For the Prime!"
Their combined defiance rattled the Harbingers on their rear flank, and they began to retreat. Still in the goliath charm, Breaker surged in pursuit.
***
Robar was in a world of hurt. Most of the Voidlings were down, but Harbingers and huge bats had taken their place. Few of the mage attacks were strong enough to strike him, but the sheer volume brought him to his knees. The MIO task force had retreated into his circle for protection. If he went down, they were dead.
A bat dived for him, its clawed feet reaching for his shoulders. A large bullet tore through its brain and sent the beast sprawling into the brush. Robar forced himself to his feet and reloaded. He threw a glance at the mountain that he knew Kate was firing from. Without her he would have been dead long ago.
"Hold the line!" Charlie bellowed. "Don't let them reach Robar!"
A bat pounced on the man at his side. Quick as a flash, Robar turned up and gunned the creature down before it could carry him off. The man cried out as he fell the ten feet, but managed to return to his former position. Robar guessed he had at least a broken rib, but he retrieved his fallen assault rifle and targeted a Harbinger wielding a
sword of fire.
Most of the Harbingers in the Spirus had come to Tryton's. As if they sensed Robar's presence, they came to kill the source of the anti-Dark weaponry. Half the MIO team was down, leaving gaps in the circle they could not hope to cover. Every instinct compelled Robar to get behind cover, but he held his position.
He was the cover.
Then Mallian reappeared. Diving past the others, he streaked by and unleashed an enormous fireball into their position. It struck the invisible immunity barrier. Most of it dissipated, but enough got through to singe Robar's face.
"Come and get me!" Robar bellowed at him.
Mallian slid to a stop and turned. Sparks ricocheted around him as bullets impacted his gravity shield. "You're just an auren," he sneered.
"And you're a coward!" Robar roared.
Mallian's features twisted in rage, and he launched himself forward. Magic blossomed from his frame as he rocketed toward Robar. Then a massive needle of pure fire extended from his palms. Churning and brightening, it set the trees on fire as he blurred past.
It struck Robar's shield and faded, but drove through. Mallian screamed as he forced it straight at Robar's heart—but Robar stepped to the side. The needle of fire streaked past him and sank into the ground. Then it detonated. Fire sizzled into the MIO soldiers. His clothes burning, Robar took two steps and grabbed Mallian before he could reverse his momentum and escape.
Catching his throat, Robar aimed his gun at the man's torso. His gravity shield stripped by Robar's immunity, he desperately sought to pull himself free. Robar's grip tightened and he pulled the trigger. Horror and pain filled Mallian's eyes, and then the light faded. Robar tossed his body aside and resumed his former position. Even without the Harbinger leader they were on the verge of being overrun. Gritting his teeth, he hoped his ammunition would hold out.
***
"All the students are out of sight," Shorn said.
"Ours too," Derek said, and then closed the door at the base of the water school. The motion cut off the view of hundreds of frightened faces.