Reborn: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Rise of Magic Book 8)

by CM Raymond

  She looked at him in confusion first, and then it hit her. “Remember my loves.”

  “Yeah, and remember that the bitch from outer space is coming to kill and destroy everything and everyone you’ve ever loved.” Gregory let his words hang for a second, then added, “You’re the only one who can stop her.”

  As he spoke, Hannah felt the Etheric energy grow inside of her. She stood and rolled her neck, and the pops of her vertebrae rang in the tunnel. “I already feel like kicking some Kurtherian ass!”

  Gregory laughed. “Good, but first we need to save a Kurtherian ass. Let’s go.”

  “Always focused.” Hannah smiled.

  “I usually am,” he grinned and then pointed at Hadley, “except when this dickweed kidnapped me.”

  “Hey,” Hadley said, hands raised, “I said I was sorry. What else do you want?”

  “Guys, cut the shit. Lilith needs us.”

  They turned for the door to Lilith’s room and entered.

  Ezekiel stood there alone, eyes closed and hands folded in front of him. The lights continued to flicker.

  “Zeke!” Hannah shouted. “What the hell?”

  He looked at Hannah and then back at Lilith’s box. His face looked like nothing she’d ever seen before and she tried to place the emotions, but couldn’t for a second. And then it struck her—his expression was resignation.

  Her eyes flashed red. Don’t leave me, you old bastard.

  He glanced up at her and slowly shook his head.

  “Like hell!” she said, out loud this time. “You’ve lived a long life, walking Irth with your staff in one hand and your dick in the other. You might be ready to call it a game, but I’m just getting started.”

  His eyes sparkled and a smile grew under his beard. “There is always hope, isn’t there?”

  “Sure as shit is, Z.”

  Gregory rushed over to Lilith and knelt, reaching for a small toolkit off to the side of her box and spreading its contents in front of him in a row. He rubbed his dirty, shaking hands on his pants, trying to at once clean them and calm them, and, grabbing a crescent wrench, he leaned in.

  “No,” Lilith’s tinny voice called to him. It was thin and faint, almost unrecognizable. Gregory leaned back, confused. “Not me, Arcadian. Not me.”

  He looked up at Ezekiel, who nodded. That was when it struck Hannah. Her mentor was not resigned to losing the war, but rather to losing his oldest friend that day. Lilith was almost gone, and now Hannah knew that the two of them had made their own plans to divert all resources to attack—which left Lilith with none.

  “Bigger things are at play, Gregory,” Ezekiel said. “We—Lilith and I—need you to fix the Gate. New Romanov won’t stand for long without it.”

  Gregory’s eyes cut from Lilith to Ezekiel and finally landed on Hannah. Her eyes were fixed on his face, and they were dead-serious. “Hannah?”

  “Do it, Gregory. That’s an order.”

  He pleaded with his eyes, but she didn’t yield. Hannah knew more than he did, and Gregory needed to trust her as he always had. Exhaling, he took one last look at the Oracle and left the room.

  Muttering curses to himself, he walked the path between Lilith’s room and his lab as he had done so many times since they landed in New Romanov. Sadness gripped him. While he hadn’t known her for long, the Oracle understood him in ways most humans didn’t. Losing her was unimaginable.

  He opened the door to his lab and stepped into the familiar space. Just being there made him feel better, comforted, until his eyes turned toward the giant work space, the place he had toiled for hours over the technology that Hannah had retrieved from the tower in Kaskara.

  Gregory’s mouth dropped open when he realized the tech was gone. “Oh, shit,” he groaned as nervous nausea hit his stomach.

  “Hey, dipshit,” a voice called from the doorway. “Where the hell have you been?”

  He spun. Aysa was standing in the hall with her trademark grin.

  “Long story,” he said. “Where’s the tech?”

  “I almost finished it. Well, I think I did. Me and the wonder twins figured if we were going to have to fire that big old sonofabitch it wouldn’t do much good down here, so we moved it outside. Got one hell of a spot for it, too.” She stepped forward and leaned against the doorjamb. “Wanna see?”

  Gregory ran over and grabbed Aysa in a hug. “You’re amazing!”

  She laughed and pushed him away. “I know,” she snickered, “but cool it, OK? I don’t want that little wood nymph of yours getting any false ideas about you and me, even though I could kick her ass if I wanted to.”

  “Sure, whatever” he said, unable to stop smiling. “We gotta get up there. Lead the way. Now!”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Men and women ran in every direction as they hurried to grab whatever weapons and armor they had at their disposal. Battle was upon them, and for many it was the first time. The panic in the air was palpable.

  Karl strode through the chaos confidently. He had returned from Urai only minutes before and hadn’t yet been fully updated on the situation, but he had his hammer in his hand and that was all he needed for the fight.

  Mika and Olaf were shouting commands, trying to get the ragtag army into some semblance of order. They had been running the would-be soldiers through drills for days, but a drill and the real thing couldn’t be more different.

  “Karl?” Parker’s voice cut through the noise and the young man sprinted to his side.

  “Aye. Take a breath, son. Yer gonna need it.”

  Parker nodded. “No shit. I just finished talking with Hannah.”

  “And?” the rearick asked. “Ye got some intel worth sharin’? What are we about ta come up against?”

  “According to Hannah, everything.”

  That brought Karl to a halt, and for the first time today he felt a little uneasy. “What do ya mean, everythin’?”

  “I mean everything. Laughter’s whole damn army. Flyers. Those horndog-looking Skrima. And the big ones.”

  “Scheisse!” Karl grunted as the true nature of their situation registered. “Are ye sure?”

  Parker sighed. “Apparently Hadley was able to penetrate Laughter’s mind, so unless the mystic chose this moment to be wrong for the first time, we’re in for one hell of a fight.”

  “Well, good. I been itchin’ fer one. Where’re Hannah and the old man? We’re gonna need ‘em fer this.”

  Parker stared at him, quiet for once.

  Karl’s stomach got a little uneasier.

  “Don’t tell me…”

  “We’re on our own,” Parker said. “Apparently Lilith is in some sort of trouble, so Hannah and Ezekiel are working to save her while Gregory tries to get his super-cannon-thing ready. Our mission is to stall for time.”

  “Scheisse!” Karl repeated, and looked around at the crowd. They weren’t ready for this. Then he looked back at Parker. The kid was wicked-smart when it came to reading a room and weighing odds. He could see in his eyes that Parker knew it too.

  Karl made a fist. “Dammit, if Hannah needs us to buy time, then we’ll give her all the time we’ve got. We don’t need no blasted magic users to fight those bastards. My hammer is good enough for me.”

  He turned and moved back toward the Archangelsk warriors. Mika and Olaf had managed to get their fighters into line.

  “I was wondering if you were gonna show up with that little hammer of yours,” Mika said. “I figured you’d have turned tail by now.”

  “Ha!” Karl shouted. “It’s gonna take more’n the end o’ the world ta turn me yellow.”

  “So that’s what this is?” Olaf asked. “The end of the world?”

  “Not if we can help it,” Karl quipped, “but we better get these people movin’ if they’re gonna do any good.”

  Olaf was about to call out the order when Parker stopped him. “Wait!”

  The big man glowered down at Parker. “What?”

  “Most of these people haven�
��t ever fought before, not really.”

  Mika shrugged. “What’s your point?”

  But Olaf was nodding. “They need some courage.”

  “Exactly,” Parker said. “They need some of your courage.” He pointed at the three veterans. “I think a little pep talk is in order before we send these people to what may be their deaths. Hell, I need a little pep talk.”

  The three warriors looked at each other, but no one moved.

  “Well, Olaf, I think ye should be the one,” Karl said. “I mean, these’re yer folks, after all.”

  Olaf shuffled from one foot to the next. “It’s just that my speaking skills are a little rusty.” The big man looked down at Mika and raised his eyebrows.

  “Not a freaking chance,” she said. “I’m a lover and a fighter, but I’m no talker.”

  “Ye coulda fooled me,” Karl said, and both Olaf and Mika looked down at him.

  Karl looked up at them, then to Parker and back again.

  “Oh, dammit all! Yer a bunch o’ lilies. I’ll do the damn thing.”

  Karl stormed away from them and moved to the front of the army.

  “All right, ye bastards—listen up!”

  The women and men in the front stood as straight as fence posts at the sound of Karl’s voice, and the ones behind them leaned forward, trying to get a better view of the short rearick.

  Karl looked around in confusion for a second, but then Parker came up to the front pulling a wagon behind him. He placed the wagon in front of Karl and motioned toward it.

  Karl growled at him. “I don’t need a damned boost.”

  “Come on!” Parker smiled. “Everybody wants to see your pretty face.”

  Karl grumbled under his breath as he climbed onto the wagon. He saw a few smirking faces in the crowd. He slammed his hammer down hard, and the violent crack brought everyone back to attention.

  “Listen,” he said, “I know most of ya aren’t proper fighters. Ye don’t really have the skills necessary ta fight an army of demon monsters who want nothin’ more than ta eat yer livers while listenin’ ta yer screams. Hell, half o’ ye can’t even hold yer swords straight.”

  A loud cough grabbed Karl’s attention, and he looked down at Parker. “Ease up, man. You want them to shit themselves?”

  Karl glanced at the scared look on their faces and blushed underneath his beard.

  “Er, what I mean is, none o’ that matters now. None of it. It’s not yer experience that’s gonna win this fight. It’s not the strength in yer arms. It’s yer hearts. It’s the fact that ye are all here together, fighting for yer home. Tarkans, citizens o’ New Romanov—none o’ that matters now. Yer all citizens of Irth. Those bastards are tryin’ to take our world from us. Our world! And ye are the heroes who’ve chosen ta defend it.”

  Parker let out a whoop, which provoked a couple cheers from the crowd. Karl smiled, warming to his task.

  “So, do ye want ta just give our planet over ta a bunch of mangy fart-munchers?”

  “No!” the army yelled in unison.

  “Hell, no!” he yelled back. “’Tis our world, and we’re gonna keep it.” He raised his hammer and pointed toward the gate behind him. “When we head out there, we’ve got just one simple job—keep those shitlickers away from the city. So keep yer heads up, and watch the back o’ the person next ta ye. And whatever we face out there, whatever comes at us, stand yer ground. Fight with the heart that’s still beatin’ in yer chest and save our world. Fer Irth!”

  “For Irth!” they shouted back.

  Karl turned and marched through the gate, confident that a thousand true warriors were at his back.

  They followed him through the gate into the field outside. Karl didn’t know how long it would take the Skrima to meet them, but he figured the farther away from New Romanov he could keep the conflict, the better.

  Parker sidled up on his left. “Not too shabby, rearick. I mean, once you got past that whole hellfire and brimstone bit.”

  “I don’t know,” Mika said. “I think you could have used more graphic imagery. These idiots aren’t nearly scared enough of what they’re about to see.”

  “If they could handle Karl’s speech,” Olaf said, marching next to her, “they can handle anything.”

  “Yer all a right bunch o’ pricks,” Karl said, trying to march faster.

  “Come on, Karl, we didn’t mean any offense. We’re just giving you some constructive criticism,” Parker offered.

  “Aye, well, how ‘bout ye save the advice fer after we save the world—if any of ye limp-wristed bastards are still standin’, that is.”

  They had marched for half a mile when they found themselves at the bottom of a large hill, and as they climbed to the top Karl caught sight of what was waiting for them.

  A valley full of howling Skrima were moving toward his army.

  And they were moving fast.

  ****

  Hadley was slumped on the floor in the corner of Lilith’s room, his head hanging between his legs. Adrenaline had sustained him through the jump back to New Romanov and into the tunnels, but as his body relaxed the effects of Laughter’s perversion of his mind and his battle against Hannah set in.

  Head thumping, he realized that he could either still feel traces of her in his mind, or maybe her sudden absence had left a void that needed to be filled.

  On the other side of the room Hannah whispered to Ezekiel, telling him the story of Hadley and Gregory. She spoke quickly, knowing that all she really wanted to do was discuss Lilith.

  Ezekiel listened, nodding along as she shared the details, and when she finished he looked at Hadley with sympathy. “I was afraid of this, but it was necessary—him going in. And now we know she has mobilized and is on her way.” He walked across the room and crouched next to the mystic. Patting him on the knee, Ezekiel whispered, “You did well.”

  “Feels like I got a Kurtherian bitch-slap upside my mind,” he answered, looking up and slowly running his hands through his hair. “And I almost took Gregory back through the Rift or something. At least, I think that was what I was doing.” He exhaled hard and shook his head. Forcing a grin across his face, he admitted, “Hell, Ezekiel, I really have no idea what happened. Mind is blurry about the whole time, like it’s the day after a rearick-worthy bender.”

  “Scheisse!” Ezekiel said in the best Karl imitation he could muster. “Rest up and gather your strength. It looks like you might get a chance to pay Laughter back before too long, and we’re going to need all the power we can get.”

  Hadley nodded, then closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the rock wall.

  “My turn,” Hannah said as Ezekiel walked back across the room, taking up his position next to her in front of Lilith’s metal box. She pushed up her sleeves. “Let’s do this.”

  Ezekiel looked at her with a sideways glance. “Do what, exactly?”

  Hannah nodded toward the metal box. “Gregory is needed up top with the tech to fight off the assholes from space and he can’t fix her hardware, so it’s time for me to save her.”

  Ezekiel shook his head. “I guess you stopped listening during the part of that story where I said we had a theory about how to save her.”

  “Oh, I heard that.”

  “How about the part where I said that you aren’t powerful enough to do it? That no one is?”

  “Heard that too.” Hannah grinned. “And do you remember my response?”

  Ezekiel stared at the ceiling, thinking. Finally he shook his head.

  “I told you it was bullshit.” She crossed her arms and tilted her chin slightly upward. “Or something like that.”

  “No, Hannah.”

  She raised her hands in front of him. “Zeke, we still don’t know exactly what I am capable of, and you said it yourself. I’ve done this before, with Sal and the sand monster I created in Baseek. There’s no reason I—”

  “Damn it, Hannah! No!” Ezekiel slammed the end of his staff on the stone floor and the sound
reverberated through the room. “You’re too inexperienced, and even if you knew what the hell you were doing, look at you! You’re exhausted! You need rest.”

  Hannah stepped close to Ezekiel and placed her hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “I know that, Zeke, but one thing I’ve learned is that the good guys don’t always have the convenience of waiting for the right moment. Most often we don’t get to choose our time; our time chooses us. That’s what you taught me that day you showed up in Arcadia, and again when you took me to the tower. The time is calling now, and you can bet your wizened old ass I’m going to answer.”

  Ezekiel’s frown broke. He knew that he had created this monster just as Hannah had created Sal, and at that moment in the caves he answered the call of time too. “You are one stubborn magician.”

  She nodded. “I learned it from my mentor.” Turning to Lilith, Hannah asked, “What do we need to do?”

  The Oracle’s mechanical voice was fainter than before, and Hannah and Ezekiel had to lean in to even hear her. “It is simple. I will need a body to be ported into. Hannah, you will need to use your power to make me one.”

  An unintentional laugh broke from Hannah’s mouth.

  “Is there a problem?” Lilith asked.

  “Um, yeah, just a little one. I have no freaking clue how to just make you a body, Lilith. I mean, I’d love to and all, but I don’t have the instruction manual for that kind of shit.”

  “But you know a lot. Think, Hannah!” Ezekiel urged.

  Hannah paced the room, mulling her power suite over in her mind. She had learned a lot since she began using magic. Her mind raced back through her adventures, slowing at certain memories and trying to discern whether it was helpful. She kept going back to Sal, and the sand monster on the shores of Baseek. She shook her head and kept pacing.

  “Damn it,” Hannah cried. “At root, my magic is based on shaping matter, not creating it. Hell, even the fireballs are drawing on what already exists.”

  She thought of what she had said when she was face-down in the market and saw the little white salamander crawl out from behind a barrel. If she weren’t so frustrated, it would have made her chuckle. Sal changing from a salamander to a dragon seemed so surreal even now. Then it struck her.