“Stay still, you’re in no shape to move.”
“No, you don’t understand. It isn’t what anyone thought it was! Everyone is wrong! The Chairman is wrong! We’ve got to go. I’ve got to bring everyone onto the Tempest.”
“What? Don’t move. You’re still bleeding from—‘
“Aarrggh! You are such a boy! You know I see the world different than everybody else. Listen, do you trust me or not?”
Francis was perplexed. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Then get a bucket and fill it with nails and broken glass and anything else you can use to stab people with your brain, and get that blimp in the air. We’ve only got minutes.”
He nodded. She could see it in his eyes. He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but God bless him, Francis actually trusted her. She kissed him on the cheek and Traveled before she could see his reaction.
***
Chairman Okubo Tokugawa was sitting cross-legged on a simple mat, watching the brothers curiously. Jane was standing a few feet away in a white kimono, flanked between two robed Iron Guards. “Sullivan?” she asked in surprise.
“You okay, Jane?” he asked. She nodded. She sure didn’t look okay. Poor thing was scared to death. “Don’t worry. Dan’s here. We’ll get you home.”
The Chairman spoke. “Rise, First Iron Guard.” Madi jumped to his feet with superhuman speed.
“Sir, Grimnoir threaten the Geo-Tel,” Madi said quickly, much more worried about that than the bullets lodged in his chest.
The Chairman nodded politely, as if to say, tell me something I don’t already know, stupid. “I am aware. I have been watching. I dispatched Shadow Guards to retrieve it. They will Travel back here shortly.”
“Well, if it ain’t Mr. Fancy-Pants,” Sullivan said. “What’re you doing down here? Hiding?”
The Chairman studied him carefully. He was wearing a simple, comfortable robe, and his feet were bare. “As I said, I have been watching. This is a most interesting time for me, Mr. Sullivan. If I so desired I could send my personal bodyguard up and your friends would be dead in seconds, or perhaps I could just destroy you all myself.”
“Then why don’t you, big shot?”
“Because I am bored,” he answered truthfully. “I have been alive for a very long time. I have lived for over a hundred years. I was born the youngest son of a minor samurai lord. My home was destroyed in a revolution, my family put to the sword, and I became ronin. I had seen my share of conflict by the time the Power came to me. Together we learned how magic could interact with mankind. Since that day I have traveled the world. I have learned its secrets. I have seen the heights and depths of magic. I have been to every land. Spoken every tongue. Learned everything. Fought every war. Led men into battle and killed legions with my own hands. I’ve lain with ten thousand women and sired a thousand sons. I sculpt nations as other men sculpt clay. I have traveled beyond our world and seen the others. I have spoken with the Power face to face as we speak now. I have seen the terrible being the Power fled from and I have protected our world from it in battle beyond your mortal comprehension. There is nothing truly new to me.”
Sullivan could sense he was telling the truth. If the Chairman was anything, he was perfectly straightforward. “So, we’re an interesting diversion?”
“Yes. I could kill you all with a thought. The Geo-Tel was never in danger. My plan will be fulfilled.” As he said, that two black-clad ninjas Traveled in, holding a strange device between them. It sparked and buzzed with energy and Sullivan could feel the magic in the room distort toward it. “It was only a matter of time. But you and your people interest me, Mr. Sullivan. Your strengths, your flaws, your hates, your desires, your loves and dreams. You are one of the most powerful natural Actives ever born. Your young Traveling friend is even stronger, though she does not realize it yet. We should stand as one, united for what is to come, yet instead you will fight me to the end. Such purity of struggle is bitter, yet beautiful in its way. I wrote a poem about it. Would you like to hear it?”
“I’d rather slit my own wrists.”
“Fair enough.” The Chairman turned back to Madi. “I am disappointed in you, First Iron Guard. Were it not for my preparation, the Geo-Tel would have been lost to the Grimnoir. And not only that, but it would have been lost to the forces of a man that you had thought you’d killed.”
Madi bowed deeply. “Forgive me, Chairman. I can make it right.”
Sullivan was surprised just how much genuine devotion there was in his brother’s words. At least he’d finally found something that he could truly love.
“Very well. How much longer until the firing?” the Chairman asked absently.
A man in a long black coat answered. “Approximately ten minutes, sir.”
The Chairman nodded. “Very well, First Iron Guard Madi. You may redeem yourself.”
Madi bowed his head quickly, then moved to the side, shrugging out of his robe. All he was wearing now was a pair of very baggy black pants. Madi’s torso was covered in kanji scars. Nearly every inch of him had been burned, and every one of those made him more dangerous. He shouted something in Japanese, and a moment later another Iron Guard hurried forward with two swords, one made of wood, and one made of killing steel.
Sullivan knew what was happening. He removed the tattered remains of his coat and canvas vest and tossed the rags on the floor.
Madi smiled. “Let’s go then, little brother.” He picked up the steel katana, swinging it back and forth so quickly that the air whistled, then he tossed it gently through the air. Sullivan caught it by the hilt. Madi grinned as he took up the wooden sword, testing its balance. “I’m literally thirteen times the man you are. Figure I’d keep it fair.”
The Chairman nodded, appreciating this act of chivalry. Jane looked like she was about to puke. The Geo-Tel was steaming along behind five Iron Guards and two ninjas. The Chairman saw where Sullivan’s eyes had wandered, and he shook his head softly. “I would not allow you to stop me . . . but I will not meddle in your family business. Carry on.”
Madi was limbering up. His body was thick with muscle. Sullivan had seen him tear through hard men like they were nothing, and that was before he had been magically augmented and trained. Sullivan held up the unfamiliar sword. “I don’t exactly know how to use one of these things . . .”
“You’ll figure it out pretty quick,” Madi said. “You always was the smart one.”
“Not always,” he muttered. Sullivan was the youngest. Jimmy had been the smart one growing up, until he’d been struck with a bad fever that had nearly killed him and had left his mind feeble. After their daddy had died, he’d stepped up, trying to take care of his mother and his dimwit brother, while the oldest, Matthew, had done nothing but cause trouble. He’d been a bully, a thief, a jerk, and was only happy when everyone else had been scared of him. Sullivan watched the light reflect down the razor edge of the sword. “Hell, we should’ve done this a long time ago.”
“That’s the spirit,” Madi said.
Sullivan raised the sword. “I’m gonna cut you in half.”
Madi grinned savagely. “Reckon you could try that and see how it works out for ya.”
“Begin,” the Chairman ordered.
They met in the middle. The Iron Guards formed a circle around them. Sullivan swung as fast as he could, the blade driven by his vast strength. Madi moved out of the way easily. He cracked Sullivan hard on the shoulder with the wooden sword. “Try harder,” he said.
“Go to hell,” Sullivan snarled, hurling his Power, trying to make Madi fall toward him. Their magic clashed, neutralizing each other’s forces. The swords met, and then they were face to ruined face, and Sullivan was staring into that dead white eye. Madi grabbed him by the arm and used some movement to duck and hurl Sullivan over his hip. He hit the ground hard, but was already coming up when the wooden sword nailed him in the ribs. He gasped.
They went back and forth. Every time he tried his Power, Madi came
back with an equal amount. The Iron Guard was stronger, faster, and had more skill. The wooden sword swept in low and hit him in the leg, and even with his long-magically-hardened bones, he felt the fracture. Distracted, he wasn’t as fast, and Madi’s Power dropped him backwards where he hit the floor and skidded away. On his knees, he swung the sword, but Madi easily leapt over it, and drove the wooden weapon through his shoulder.
Sullivan screamed, and Madi used one foot to shove him off the end of the wooden sword. Blood sprayed freely. He tried to rise, but Madi kicked him in the face. He rolled onto his back, and drove the sword upward, feeling it pierce flesh.
Madi paused, looking at the sword driven into his ribs. He stepped back as it slid cleanly out. “Nice shot, Jake.” Then he shattered the wooden sword over Jake’s skull.
Sullivan was crawling away, blood pouring out of his shoulder and head. The scar on his chest was channeling Healing magic, but not near fast enough to keep up with this. Madi tossed the broken hilt away and it clattered across the floor. “You idiot! You fucking idiot. I told you. I told you. I’m the strongest there is. I beat you with a bokken! You ain’t done yet. Get up! Get UP!”
He rose, shaking. Madi punched him across the room. He collided with two Iron Guards, taking them all down in a heap.
Madi wasn’t satisfied. He needed more. He looked to the Chairman, who was sitting there, showing no emotion. “This ain’t good enough.” Madi ran toward Jane, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her across the room. She cried out in pain. “Fix him! Now, damn it. I ain’t done yet!”
Sullivan crawled off the Iron Guards. Madi shoved Jane down next to him. He could feel the warmth of her hands on his head. The hole in his shoulder closed. Somehow he knew that his skull was visible through the top of his head, but the skin pulled together and the blood quit flowing. He got back to his feet and picked up the sword.
Jane scrambled away. “Thanks,” Sullivan said, tasting nothing but coppery blood.
Madi was pacing back and forth, unarmed, but deadly anyway. He saw his brother standing. “Again!”
They clashed. Sullivan feinted with the sword, and as Madi moved away from it, his boot collided with the Iron Guard’s knee. It was like kicking a railroad tie. Madi punched him in the chest, breaking his sternum, then uppercut him so hard that he thought his face was going to come off. Sullivan landed on his back, but reversed gravity, and dropped himself into the air. He lashed out with the sword and caught Madi through the chest with the tip. Sullivan landed on his feet, and pushed the blade in deeper. Madi roared and grabbed onto the steel even as it sliced through his hands.
They were face to face again, with a foot of sword sticking out Madi’s back. “You still don’t get it. I’m the strongest there is!” Sullivan’s nose broke as Madi’s forehead slammed into it. Down was now up, and Sullivan fell ten feet into the air before the Power tapered off. He used his magic to cushion his fall, but by the time he hit the floor on hands and knees, Madi had already dragged the bloody sword from his torso. His brother raised it in both hands and bellowed. “Strongest THERE IS!” The sword cleaved through Sullivan’s back, through one lung, out his chest, and dug deep into the floor. It was a brutal killing blow. Blood erupted like a geyser.
Sullivan fell facedown in a pool of his own blood.
Failure. He could see the Geo-Tel sparking, the Chairman watching curiously. All he could hear was a buzzing noise. As his vision darkened, he saw Madi’s legs pass in those swishy samurai pants, and then he saw Jane being dragged across the floor by her hair again. Madi was screaming something, and then he felt the burn as his wounds were stretched tight and flesh was welded together again.
“Please, leave him alone,” Jane was crying. “You’ve won. Quit torturing him.”
Madi shoved her out of the way and grabbed Sullivan by the throat. “Last chance, Jake. Third strike and you’re out.” He shoved Sullivan back down and returned to the center of the room.
Sullivan climbed to his feet. It felt like there was a ball of molten lava in his chest. He didn’t bother to pick up the sword. Madi was the strongest. But even the strongest can lose. He gathered all of the Power he had left. “No matter how tough you think you are, with all your Imperium bullshit, and all your fake magic, and all these punks looking up to you, you’re still that same low-as-dirt bully you’ve always been, and I’ll never be scared of you.”
Madi watched him with his good eye. He was furious, the living half of his face red. Spittle flew from his lips as he screamed, “AGAIN!”
Sullivan threw every piece of magic he could. Gravity shifted ten times in as many seconds. Iron Guards fell up, down, and across the room. The Chairman, nonplussed, put out one hand to steady the Geo-Tel. Madi threw up his hands, countering magic with magic, every kanji on his chest glowing bright, burning so hot to keep up that the wood around his feet blackened and smoked. Every loose item in the room fell to the ceiling. Windows shattered. The light bulbs all exploded and dropped sparks until the room was lit only by glowing kanji and the pale blue light of the Geo-Tel.
And still, Madi kept getting closer, teeth ground together behind his destroyed lips, tears of blood leaking from his ruined eye. Sullivan stood his ground, feeling the pressure as Madi hammered him back. One of the bodyguards fell screaming out a broken window. Madi finally reached him and backhanded him across the face. It was the blow of the mightiest Iron Guard, and it shattered Sullivan’s teeth and wrenched his neck around.
Sullivan landed on his back ten feet away. He started sliding away on his rear, crawling on his elbows, pushing himself back with his feet. Madi walked forward, following him, ready to finish it once and for all. They continued for several feet, Sullivan grasping along, desperate, while Madi took his time strolling after him, savoring the moment. Finally, Sullivan stopped, raised his trembling hands, and looked up at the killer towering over him.
“Why the sad face?” Madi asked sarcastically.
“Not sad,” he spat around his broken teeth. “This is what I look like when I’m concentrating . . .” He cut his Power.
Madi’s eye flicked up, realizing what was happening just as the katana dropped from where Sullivan had been holding it against the ceiling. The blade fell, the tanto tip piercing through Madi’s skull, through his brain, down his throat, until it pierced his heart in two. Overloaded, the healing kanji exploded with the light of a bonfire.
Sullivan surged off the floor and grasped the hilt protruding from the top of Madi’s head. He pulled his brother’s face in close and whispered, “You’re right. You always were the strongest.” Madi’s good eye was twitching madly in its socket, trying to focus. His hands came up, curled into useless, spasming claws. He was trying to say something, but the only thing coming from his mouth was foaming blood and a gacking noise. “But I’m the smart one, remember?”
With a roar, Sullivan pulled the blade toward him. The razor steel cut through the rest of Madi’s skull, appearing right between his eyes, then through his nose and teeth. He wrenched the sword all the way out, opening him from top to belly button, and Madi’s organs spilled out in a gushing heap. Somehow, he was still standing, the front of his head split in two. One side was the face of a human, while the other was the shredded white-eyed face of a monster.
No amount of healing magic could fix that. Sullivan raised his hand, palm open, and activated his Power.
“So long, Matty.”
Gravity changed direction and Madi plunged across the room, through the window, and out into the night.
Chapter 26
We have tried everything. Bullets bounce off. Bombs thrown under his carriage have turned it to splinters and killed the horses, but don’t so much as muss the Chairman’s hair. He does not sleep so we can’t sneak up on him. He does not eat so we can’t poison him. We’ve tried fire, ice, lightning, death magic, crushing gravity, bone shards, blood curses, all without effect. Decapitation might work, if you could come up with a blade sharp enough, but the finest steel sim
ply dulls against his skin. Even if you were to wield this modern Excalibur the problem then would be that you can only touch Tokugawa if he lets you. He is all knowing, all seeing, moves faster than the wind, and can Travel in the blink of an eye. You don’t touch the Chairman. The Chairman touches you, and as far as we’ve observed, that only happens when he’s ripping the very soul from your body.
—Frank Baum,
knight of the Grimnoir,
testimony to the elders’ council, 1911
San Francisco, California
It was Kristopher Harkeness, elder of the Grimnoir, who responded to the call of his ring. The thin man came into the hospital room, locked the door behind him, and Browning wondered why he’d never seen it before. Plague lived in his flesh. This was an Angel of Death. This was the Pale Horse.
“You called?” Harkeness answered.
“I did.” Browning pulled the Colt .45 out from under the blankets and leveled it at his fellow Grimnoir. “I’m surprised you came.”
“I’m bound by a sacred oath. I had to come.” He took a seat in one of the metal folding chairs next to the door. He did not look surprised to see the gun. “You are, after all, one of my brothers. Isn’t that what the oath says? So I know you won’t shoot me. I am still Grimnoir.”
“I don’t see a knight. I see a traitor.”
Harkeness laughed. It was a hollow and joyless sound. “Allow me the chance to explain myself before you murder one of your fellows.” His awkward accenting of random words grated on Browning’s ears. He reached very slowly into his coat. “Mind if I smoke?”
“The man standing before the firing squad is always allowed one.”
“Do I get a blindfold?”
“I’d prefer for you to see this coming, for I do believe you murdered John J. Pershing, and I would assume that even if they did not die by your hand, you are responsible for many other deaths.”
Hard Magic: Book I of the Grimnoir Chronicles Page 42