Elite: A Hunter novel

by Mercedes Lackey

  A moment later, whatever had just hit them let them go again, leaving the two Drakken reeling and swaying like a pair of drunks. If Drakken could be concussed, these surely were.

  And before I could take another breath, I got a glimpse of something distorting the rain in the air between their heads, something like an invisible disk set edgewise toward me, made visible only by the way the rain didn’t fall through it. Then the Drakken’s heads slammed together again, impacting that disk.

  This time I snapped out of my paralysis and reacted. I gathered all the magic energy I could and fired off two of the most powerful levin bolts I’d ever produced at their distorted faces.

  That force—no, forces—let them go again, as my levin bolts connected and blasted holes right in the centers of the Drakken’s foreheads.

  And over the comm I heard Steel saying “You’re welcome,” while Hammer and Knight whooped in the background.

  I started thinking instead of reacting, and I realized I had just seen Hammer and Steel and White Knight pull off the biggest Shield Slam that anyone had ever seen, with Steel’s rock-hard Wall between the two Drakken making sure Hammer and Mark got the maximum benefit off their head slam.

  “Thank you,” I whispered over the comm. Whispered, because I could scarcely believe what had just happened. It was like one of Knight’s Christer miracles.

  The Drakken, now quite, quite dead, toppled over like a pair of trees. They fell over sideways rather than squashing the Hounds and me; I think that was with a little help from Steel and Mark. When they hit the ground, it shook everything, and they sent up a huge splash of mud and water over us. And once again, we were inundated, and I had to wait for the rain to clear the mud off our Shields before I could see.

  When the mud sluiced away, there were Ace and his Mage, staring at us, paralyzed with shock, as if they could not believe what had just happened to turn the tables on them.

  But not for long. Now it was my turn.

  The deaths of those behemoths had sent a huge surge of manna to our Hounds, and they filled me with so much magic I felt as if every hair on my body was standing on end. In quick succession, I sent off a levin bolt with a rider, a spell to turn Ace’s Shield brittle, and followed it up with a series of flash-bangs designed to leave him blinded and deafened. I followed that with Shield-pushes, concussive shoves like weaker versions of what Hammer could do, to test whether Ace had anchored his Shield to the ground or not, and give him a rude awakening in either case.

  The answer was, he had not. He was “floating” his Shield, and that was a major mistake on his part. It meant that I could hit him with his own Shield, shove it right into him, hard, and I did just that.

  The first push knocked him and the Mage over, slamming him with his own Shield as I shoved it back about ten feet. The second push sent them both tumbling into the mud as they lost control over what was keeping them out of the muck. And the third just added insult to injury, bouncing them around within the skittering Shield-sphere, like a couple of pebbles rattling around inside a gourd.

  Then I landed a concussive blow on the top of the Shield, and it shattered, leaving them utterly unprotected—and clean, since the drenching downpour washed them both free of all the mud they’d collected on their trip.

  That was when the Folk Mage decided he’d had enough. But instead of opening a Portal and pulling Ace with him as he’d done the last time, he bamphed out, leaving Ace standing there, with no Shield, no “battery,” and no backup.

  Ace had been abandoned by his allies.

  Guess Ace wore out his welcome. Or they decided he wasn’t worth the trouble of defending anymore.

  With a look of utter panic on his face, he turned away from me and tried to run. But as I already knew, running in calf-deep mud in an epic downpour is an exercise in futility. I swung up on Dusana, and we pursued—but not before Myrrdhin and Gwalchmai, who didn’t need to wait for me to get on Dusana’s back, bamphed ahead of us and leapt on Ace, knocking him down into the mire until the rest of us could catch up.

  Since Ace was already cut off, I took a little time getting Hold and Strike up out of the mud and onto Dusana with me. Meanwhile, Myrrdhin and Gwalchmai were between Ace and his escape path, teeth bared and growling. At least, I thought they were growling. I could see them vibrating, though I couldn’t hear anything over the pouring rain and the distant sounds of battle.

  Finally we bamphed to where he was sprawled, and I looked down on him, on his hands and knees in mud so deep it was all he could do to keep his head above it, and I will not lie, I considered murdering him right then and there. It would have been easy: knock him unconscious, let him fall facedown in the mud and rain, and let him drown in it. Not one person would have blamed me. A horrible death but no less horrible than the one he had surely left Karly to, or the one he’d contemplated for me, as a chew toy between two Drakken.

  It wasn’t pity that kept me from doing it because I hadn’t one drop of pity to spare for him. To my mind, craziness was not an excuse for what he’d done. The fact was, he’d started down that path before he went crazy, and “crazy” just came along for the ride. It was partly the feeling that although he deserved a wretched death, I shouldn’t be the one that delivered it. I wasn’t judge, jury, and executioner; I was only one of the long line of people he’d wronged. And it was mostly the fact that I wanted answers, and I wasn’t going to get them out of a dead man.

  So I had Dusana clamp his teeth into the back of Ace’s jacket and haul him erect by his fancy collar. Then I had Shinje go all tentacles and wrap him up like a mummy, pinning his arms and hands to his sides and covering his mouth so there was no way he would be able to manage so much as a hint of a spell. Then, finally, I was able to consult my Perscom as to where on the field everyone was, and slog back through the mud to meet up with my team, the wrapped-up Ace in tow.

  Not exactly a triumphal procession, but I’ve never exactly gone in for triumphal processions anyway. They were just another kind of fuss, and I’d had more than enough fuss in my life so far to make me wish for invisibility.

  I’m not sure I have ever seen anything more welcome than that dome of Shield, rain sluicing off it, with everyone on my team packed together underneath it. They dropped it long enough for us to join them, then brought it up again, but at this point, it was less for protection against Othersiders and more to keep off the rain and keep in the blessed warmth that Hudson was generating. Oh, warmth at last! It was like Heaven. I was finally able to stop clenching my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. Hold and Strike slid off Dusana’s back.

  I wonder what he’s pulling the heat from. Somewhere out there, I bet there’s an ice rink forming.

  The magic Hudson had invoked wasn’t doing anything about the mud, but once the Shield was up, our clothes started steaming and I, at least, stopped shivering. Not “dry” but at least a little drier.

  “Handing team back to you, Elite Joyeaux,” Hammer said formally as everyone eyed Ace, who looked like nothing so much as a skein of muddy, multicolored rope with four sets of eyes and a pair of mud-caked legs. “Welcome back.”

  “Very, very, very glad to be back,” I said fervently. “Excellent save, guys.”

  White Knight—who was nothing like “white” at this point, since he was as mud covered as the rest of us—must obviously have joined my team at some point after I handed them off to Hammer. I raised an eyebrow at him. He grinned and shrugged.

  He seemed to be smiling more and more these days. The great stone monolith was cracking, and so far as I was concerned, that was a good thing.

  “And what brought you to our part of the battleground?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “My Hounds got smacked out of the sky, then got driven into the mud, and the team had to go on without me. By the time I got them free of it, they were drenched, and their wings were too heavy to fly in this deluge, so once we got moving again, we hooked up with what was nearest. Happened to be your team.”

  I l
ooked at his Hounds; poor things, they looked utterly miserable, their legs sunk in the muck, their beautiful white coats caked with mud, their graceful white wings clamped tight to their backs, sodden and useless. I slid down off Dusana’s back, and with Mark’s help and Dusana’s agreement, we boosted them up onto Dusana’s back in my place. Dusana obligingly sprouted some new spikes to hold them in place. They looked much happier.

  “My good luck that you did,” I said. “Seeing those Drakken heads splat together might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of beholding.”

  Knight, Hammer, and Steel grinned at each other and engaged in a three-way fist bump. I could foresee a very fruitful partnership there. I could also foresee me playing bait a lot….Oh, well. Steel was pretty mired too, and I didn’t envy him getting those casts cleaned out, even if they were hardened-resin bandage. Maybe when he got back, they’d just stand him in a shower until he stopped shedding mud.

  “What are our current orders?” I continued, looking over at Hammer and not wanting to joggle the armorer’s elbow if I could get the information I needed without interrupting him.

  “Protect the pylon,” Hammer said. “PsiCorps turned up, about a quarter of the strength of the last time, but they’re turning some of the bigger monsters, and that’s helping. We’re winning. Kent doesn’t know what’s happened since Ace made his appearance here—”

  “So I’d better report in.” I toggled the general frequency. “Elite Joyeaux, status report.”

  While I waited for an answer, occasional bands of demoralized Othersiders blundered into our sphere of influence. By the time they realized that they were in danger, we’d cut them down, adding to the overflowing manna and magic energy. There was so much, in fact, that we did something we’d never done in the middle of a battle; we started using it to heal up any injuries we or the Hounds had taken. Somewhat to my surprise, it was dour Tobor and saturnine Denali who had actual healing magic spells in their arsenals. Hunters with healing magic are pretty rare; we’re better at taking things apart than putting them together again.

  “Status report, Elite Joyeaux.”

  “Hammer has passed back team command. Encountered and recaptured renegade Ace. Folk Mage backing him deserted him. Currently experiencing only light opposition.” I figured that summed things up pretty well.

  “Hold your position. Defend the pylon. Sending a pickup team for your prisoner. They’ll be coming from the other side of the Barrier; until further notice, anything that approaches you from this side is not a friendly, so attack at will and with lethal force.”

  Well, that was clear enough. And it suggested that some of the enemy might have tried using illusions to pass as Hunters or army. Hags, probably, they were the best at illusions. So we held position and took out opposition until no more opposition was turning up.

  I was frankly expecting an army squad to come fetch Ace, but what eventually came sloshing toward us out of the storm from the direction of the pylon was a special Apex PD unit. There were a half a dozen APD in body armor, armed to the teeth, and a medic. They even had two rocket-propelled grenade launchers with them, and I wished strongly I’d had those around when I’d first seen Ace’s Drakken. We dropped the Shield to allow them to join us.

  They appeared very grateful for the heat, once we got it back up. “We’re here for the prisoner,” said the one with sergeant’s markings. “Special orders from Prefect Charmand.”

  Oho. So Uncle is not going to let Ace slip out of his hands a second time. No more chances for the army to lose him. No more chances for the army to stall off an interrogation. That cheered me up immensely. “Here he is,” I said as someone shoved the Shinje-wrapped renegade toward the newcomers. “Are you going to need to take my Hound with you?”

  They all eyed the Shinje-and-Ace bundle with varying degrees of startlement and bewilderment. “That’s—a Hound?” the sergeant finally asked.

  “Anything that looks like rainbow rope is, yes,” I confirmed. “The rest is the prisoner.”

  They looked the situation, and Ace, up and down for a while, trying to decide how to proceed, because the mud and the rain were certainly going to complicate getting him back to a secure pod on the other side of the Barrier. Ace’s eyes were dilated. I couldn’t tell if it was from fear, insanity, or rage. Maybe all three. Shinje seemed highly amused. Myrrdhin and Gwalchmai were on the alert for the faintest hint of trouble from their former master. I got the distinct feeling they’d have been perfectly pleased to murder him themselves. Or at least, sink their teeth into him and shake until I ordered them to let him go.

  Oh, that was tempting….

  “Well, I have an idea. Can you get your Hound to give me a way to his neck?” the medic asked finally. Shinje obligingly moved tentacles and bared Ace’s neck on the left side; the medic murmured his thanks and went in with a hypospray. In a couple of minutes, Ace’s eyes lost focus, and his legs started to buckle until Shinje reconfigured himself to add some support. “That’s a powerful hypnotic; it’s safe to let him go at this point,” the medic said. “He couldn’t spellcast his way out of a wet paper bag now, but we’ll still be able to get him to the other side under his own power.”

  Shinje gingerly unwrapped Ace, who appeared to be utterly unaware of his surroundings now. He swayed where he stood, as two APD supported him on either side. He let the APD put him into a straitjacket and strap his arms down, demonstrating nothing but complete docility.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be able to get him back all right?” I asked worriedly. After all, he’d escaped once—

  “There’s a secure pod waiting for us on the other side of the Barrier,” the sergeant assured me. “And once we get him there, the medic has enough tranqs and hypnotics to sedate a Drakken. But you’re right: we should take every possible precaution with him. Give us an escort to the pylon door, keep your eyes peeled for Othersiders making a last-minute try for him, and once we have him on the other side of the Barrier, we’ll get him out of your hair.”

  Well, that was just fine with us; we did exactly that, keeping our Shield up, most of the Hounds outside it, running scout. Dusana stayed in the Shield with all four of Knight’s Hounds keeping eyes on Ace at all times, until we reached the base of the pylon and the door in it. There, the APD squad stuffed Ace through and loaded him straight into the secure pod. Their sergeant came back and took his leave of us, and we went back to mopping up whatever small fry came our way.

  There was no definitive “end” to this fight; eventually the field commanders decided that there were no more open Portals, that every Othersider of any note was either dead or disappeared, and whatever creatures were left could be dealt with when the storm was over if they were stupid enough to stick around. There was no way choppers were going to be able to fly, and the storm didn’t look as if it was going to end for another eight to twelve hours, so we all trudged back across the Barrier using the doors in the pylons. By “we,” I mean the Hunters. The Psimons were still on the “safe” side of the Barrier, just as they had been the last time—although they looked pretty unhappy about it. They might not have been knee-deep in mud, but there wasn’t anything keeping the rain off them. The army had brought in troop carriers from the combat side of the Barrier to bring their people here, and they would use the same means to take them back to the base.

  As for us, we lucked out; by virtue of the fact that we were closest to our pylon, we got to exit first. “My god,” said Souxie while we filed out of the door onto grass instead of mud and saw the transport pods lined up on the road, waiting to take us home. “It’s over. We lived!”

  “We did,” Hammer agreed as Glyphs hit the grass and the Hounds leapt gratefully through the Way to get back to whatever it was they called home. I hoped there was something like hot baths and soft beds waiting for them over there. “And I don’t think the Othersiders are going to try that again.”

  “So may it be,” I murmured, and followed the others at a tired trot fo
r the pods.

  ACE SAT IN A chair in an otherwise bare gray interrogation room, behind one-way mirror. There were a couple of medics in the room with him. They were very good at their jobs. Even better was the Psimon that was behind the one-way mirror, standing next to Uncle.

  That Psimon was, of course, Abigail Drift, the Psimon in charge of all of PsiCorps.

  I stood on the other side of another pane of one-way mirror, watching and listening to both of them. Their voices came through a speaker in the wall, tinny but clear enough. I was wearing the strongest Psi-shield ever made, turned on to a level so high that I actually felt it, as if someone had wrapped my brain inside a dozen layers of wool batting. If Abigail Drift knew I was here, she had to be superhuman. If she was sensitive enough and paying attention to what was behind her, she might realize there was someone here, just by the interference pattern the Psi-shield was making, but she would never be able to tell it was me. I was here at Uncle’s invitation and without anyone else’s knowledge. So far as anyone else was concerned, I was waiting for Uncle in his inner office, scheduled to have lunch with him in the Sky Lounge.

  One of the medics kept Ace pumped full of hypnotics; the other read him questions off a touch pad. Abigail Drift had a matching touch pad; I assume she was the one supplying the questions. Ace’s voice came through a speaker in the wall too, but it didn’t matter what he said. The hypnotics guaranteed he could not keep his thoughts blocked, and Abigail Drift was here to read them for herself.

  They’d been spending the last half hour establishing the correct level of drugs in his system and asking a lot of questions we already knew the answers to, in order to give Drift a sort of baseline to work from. I tensed because now we were going to get to the questions that I was most interested in. The medic cleared his throat and began. “Were you responsible for the presence of the vampire within the storm sewer tunnels that ambushed and killed Hunter Karly?”

  Ace just laughed at him. Drift frowned.