Cloak Games_Sky Hammer

by Jonathan Moeller

  “For God’s sake,” said Riordan. “That is why I write those books under an assumed name. People quote them back to me otherwise.” He shook his head. “It’s not good for a member of the Family to draw too much attention to himself.”

  “Then why did you write all those books?” I said.

  I took a deep breath. I felt a little dizzy, but I didn’t fall over, and the landscape didn’t spin around me. Progress! Riordan kept close in case I started to pitch over, which I appreciated. I did feel quite a bit better, which was irrational. We were still stuck in Venomhold, and I still had a head full of all the spooky crap I had just told Riordan about. But maybe actually eating on a regular basis would help with my mental state. And a good cry still made me feel better.

  “I need to do something to pass the time between killing anthrophages,” said Riordan.

  “What, you don’t want to kill anthrophages all day?” I said, rolling my shoulders. “I once killed anthrophages for a hundred and fifty-eight years straight, and I turned out…well, not the best example.”

  Riordan blinked. “You can joke about it?”

  “I told her that we ought to get some fast food,” said Russell. “She would qualify for the senior discount. By, like, a lot.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Hey! I just thought of something else, too.” I smiled at Riordan. “You were a lot older than me, right? You were a hundred and ten, and I was twenty-one.”

  “A hundred and eleven, now,” said Riordan.

  “But now you’re a hundred and eleven, and I’m a hundred and eighty,” I said. “So not only is the age gap smaller, it’s also different. You used to be an older man with a younger woman. Now I’m the older woman with a hot younger man.”

  “That is kind of strange,” said Russell.

  Riordan looked at us both, and then he laughed. He didn’t do that very often. An old, forgotten pleasure went through me. I had forgotten how much I liked making my grim Shadow Hunter boyfriend laugh.

  Well. Not that Riordan was my boyfriend anymore. But maybe…

  Maybe it wasn’t too late?

  Later. Once we had dealt with Nicholas and the Sky Hammer. I could think about that later.

  Because if we didn’t find a way to stop Nicholas, it would be too late for everything.

  “I’ve had a lot of strange conversations in my life,” said Riordan, “but this has been one the strangest.”

  “We should continue it,” I said. “Just not here.”

  Riordan nodded. “Let’s keep moving.” He unfolded the map, checked out position, and nodded and put it away. “This way.”

  We set off through the field of cairns.

  Chapter 4: The Invasion

  We found a road, which was a problem.

  For one thing, it wasn’t a Warded Way. The Warded Ways are a network of stone roads that cross the Shadowlands, and the various nasty creatures of the Shadowlands can’t use them. There’s no such thing as a safe method of travel in the Shadowlands, but the Warded Ways are the closest thing you’ll find to one. Of course, in Earth’s umbra, the Inquisition kept a careful watch on the Warded Ways, which let them get advance warning of any armies moving to attack Earth.

  Sometimes.

  But this road wasn’t a Warded Way. For one thing, it was made of gravel. For another, it looked like it had only been recently constructed.

  Also, it had trucks on it.

  Internal combustion engines don’t work in the Shadowlands, though unlike electronics, they don’t blow up. They just don’t do anything. Which made the caravan of a dozen trucks moving along the gravel road kind of out of place. But I had wondered how Nicholas moved all the Rebels’ munitions through the Shadowlands, and now I had the answer.

  It was simple.

  He put the trucks into neutral and then had teams of anthrophages push them.

  At least thirty anthrophages moved each truck, pushing them along at four or five miles an hour. Groups of Rebel soldiers and orcish mercenaries walked alongside the vehicles. The Rebels wore a motley mixture of combat fatigues and body armor. The blue-skinned orcs wore a uniform that looked like a combination of black chain mail and ballistic plates, and they carried AK-47s, grenades, and battle axes. Like, actual battle axes.

  That was why James Marney had to walk with a cane.

  Russell, Riordan, and I crouched behind some boulders atop a hill and watched the caravan.

  “We’re going to have to cross that road,” said Riordan.

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s going to be tricky. I could Cloak all three of us at once, but I don’t think I could manage that for more than two minutes. Maybe we can go around them.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Riordan. He unfolded the map again. “I think this road runs all the way to the border with Grayhold.”

  “Great.”

  “Hey, I might be reading this wrong,” said Russell, “but…aren’t the Rebels’ troops massing along the border with Grayhold?”

  “Even greater,” I said.

  “You’re not wrong,” said Riordan. “I think Connor is using the border area as a staging area, getting all his troops lined up for the attack on New York.”

  I grimaced. “Which means Nicky’s probably there with the Sky Hammer right now.”

  “Probably,” said Riordan.

  I didn’t like that thought. I had been worried Nicholas would try to follow us to the Shadowlands from Last Judge Mountain, but he hadn’t. For one, it would have been difficult to do. The Shadowlands don’t connect to Earth in a congruent fashion, and two points a dozen yards away from each other on Earth might touch the Shadowlands a thousand miles apart. Unless Nicholas stood exactly where I had been standing, he would have landed somewhere else in the Shadowlands when he opened his rift way. And if he had been holding his Dark Ones medallion at the time, it would have dumped him somewhere near Venomhold itself.

  For another, Nicholas probably had like a billion other urgent things to do. I had never invaded Earth from the Shadowlands before, but it had to be a logistical nightmare. Granted, Nicholas was planning to kill most of his army as a diversion when he set off the Sky Hammer, but an invasion was still a lot of work. Especially since that army would have had only forty-eight hours’ notice before the attack.

  And it was sort of a miracle that Russell and Riordan and I were still alive. The rift way spell could have dumped us into the middle of a mob of creatures I wasn’t strong enough to fight, which was why I avoided going to the Shadowlands whenever possible. Nicholas’s most logical course of action was to assume that we were dead or neutralized, and then to continue with his plans.

  Looking at the column of trucks, anthrophages, Rebels, and orcish mercenaries, getting killed still seemed like the more likely outcome.

  “Maybe you could blow up one of the trucks?” said Russell. “They’re full of ammo and stuff.”

  I shook my head. “On Earth, yeah. Here, the stuff won’t ignite. Could we go in another direction?”

  Riordan shook his head. “This is our best shot at getting out of Venomhold. If we double back, we’ll lose a lot of time.”

  “We don’t have that time to lose,” I said.

  “If we wait long enough,” said Russell, “the Knight will have to unseal Venomhold so Connor can open rift ways.”

  I looked at the green flames that filled the sky. God, but I was sick of them. “That will be cutting it real close.” Too close, in fact. We might warn Arvalaeon just in time for Connor to nuke him. Not that I minded the thought of Arvalaeon getting nuked, but a lot of innocent men, women, and children would die with him.

  “We have another option,” said Riordan.

  “Oh?” I said.

  “We could pretend to be Rebels.”

  I opened my mouth, closed it.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” I said, running over the notion in my head. “The Rebels never bothered with uniforms, and you two look like Rebels.”

  “Good thing you dyed my hair,” said
Russell.

  “Yeah,” I said, though he still kind of looked like he had dipped his hair in an inkwell. But that was way less noticeable than the white hair his frostfever gave him. “Not me, though. The Rebels don’t have female soldiers.” I gestured at myself. My sweater was snug enough to make it obvious that I was a woman, but I had found that with my magic-induced chill the best way to stay warm was to wear a loose coat over a tight sweater. “I wish I hadn’t lost my coat. I really liked that coat.”

  “You did wear it everywhere,” said Russell. “Could you Mask yourself?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “but if we run into another Gatekeeper, they’ll sense the spell. Or an anthrophage elder or an Archon. Anyone who can use magic would sense an active Mask spell, and then the whole thing will blow up in our faces…”

  “Wait,” said Russell, pulling off his pack. “Wait, wait.” He rummaged through his pack and then beamed. “I took some stuff from the base, and…yeah, here it is.”

  He tossed me a rolled-up bundle, and I caught it. It was a camouflage jacket in shades of gray and green, and I pulled it on.

  “Why did you bring this?” I said. The jacket was way too big and hung to just above my knees, but I rolled up the sleeves to leave my hands free.

  Russell shrugged. “What if it got cold later?”

  I grinned. “You’re a genius.”

  “I think,” said Riordan, “that you should pretend to be a Gatekeeper. I know how Connor’s security works. Most of the Gatekeepers wouldn’t recognize each other on sight, and none of the Rebel soldiers will have seen all the Gatekeepers.”

  “That’s right,” said Russell. “When we came here, that Gatekeeper thought we were Rebels.”

  “In a military operation this large, there is going to be a lot of confusion and a lot of people rushing to get things done at the last minute,” said Riordan.

  “The more complicated the plan,” said Russell, “the more things that can go wrong.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Uh. All right. I’ll pretend to be as unpleasant as a Gatekeeper.”

  Russell frowned. “Can you be that unpleasant?”

  Riordan and I looked each other.

  “It’s sweet,” I said, “that he thinks being a bitch will be hard for me.”

  Riordan snorted but didn’t say anything.

  “You’ve been forced to work with the Rebels for a year,” said Russell. “Won’t they recognize you?”

  “Probably not,” I said. “Nicholas has tens of thousands of them, and I only ever really worked with him and his inner circle. So long as we don’t run into them, we can pull this off. Wait, hang on.” I cast a spell, gray light flashing around my fingers, and the glow sank into me.

  “What was that?” said Russell.

  “A spell I taught her a long time ago,” said Riordan. “Remember how those anthrophages chased you and Nadia into that parking ramp during the Archon attack on Milwaukee?” Russell nodded. I blinked – I had forgotten that. “Anthrophages can sense thoughts and emotions the way that you and I can smell odors. That spell blocks Nadia’s telepathic spoor so the anthrophages won’t recognize her on sight.”

  “Huh,” said Russell. “I wonder what your telepathic spoor smells like.”

  “Spite and pettiness, probably,” I said. I tugged at the jacket, got it settled better on my shoulders. A thought occurred to me. Riordan had a Shadowmorph inside him, and the creature probably gave off its own unique telepathic spoor. I opened my mouth to suggest that Riordan cast the spell himself, but I saw him already doing it.

  “We’re ready,” said Riordan.

  “Great,” I said. “Let’s go pretend to be Rebels.”

  With that, I straightened up and strolled down the dusty hill towards the road, Russell and Riordan following me on either side like bodyguards. That was good – it would help me masquerade as a Gatekeeper.

  The anthrophages and the Rebel soldiers spotted us at once. Three of the soldiers broke off and headed to intercept us, swords in hand. I wondered if they knew how to fight properly with the things. Riordan could probably take them in about three heartbeats. But best not to push it.

  “You’re late,” snapped the oldest of the soldiers. “Everyone who isn’t doing logistics is supposed to be at their staging points by now. We’re…” He broke off and stared at me. “You two are sneaking a woman out of the brothel? You’re going to…”

  “What’s your name, dumbass?” I said with a sweet smile.

  He blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “What,” I repeated, still smiling, “is your name? Because the Dark One in my head is hungry, and it likes to know the name of its food. Makes it taste better, I guess.”

  The soldier snorted. “You’re not a Gatekeeper, bitch. You’re…”

  I cast a spell, creating a grip of telekinetic force that I wrapped around his throat. I didn’t put nearly as much power into it as I could have since I didn’t want to kill him. All the spell did was lift him a few inches off the ground. Totally harmless.

  Granted, it did close off his airflow.

  The two other soldiers took an alarmed step back, and I let the third soldier flail and kick in the grasp of my spell. I watched his face turn red, and then purple, and then I released the spell and dropped him into the dust. He spent a moment shuddering and coughing, and then he got back to his feet, murder in his eyes.

  The anger turned to fear when he saw the fireball spinning over my palm.

  “Now, I’m feeling super generous today,” I said, “so I’m going to give you one more chance to answer my question. What is your name?”

  He swallowed. “Fenton, ma’am.”

  “Good for you,” I said. “Where are you going?”

  “Our orders just got delivered,” said Fenton. “We’re taking these supplies to Transfer Point Five. We’re supposed to get there in time for the Overseer’s address.”

  Address? Nicholas must be giving a speech to his troops.

  Of course Nicholas would give a speech.

  “We wouldn’t want to miss that,” I said. If all the Rebels and the Archons were listening to Nicholas make a speech, that would make it easier for me, Russell, and Riordan to sneak past to the Grayhold border. “Get moving. We’ll accompany you. We were delayed at our previous assignment, but you will make a…adequate escort.”

  Fenton hesitated. “I’ll need to check with…”

  I grinned my mirthless, rictus grin at him, and he actually flinched. “Then you can explain to the Overseer why I’m late. And, hey, guess what? If you make me late, that might throw off the entire timetable for the operation. I bet the Overseer would love to hear that. And I’m sure the Knight herself would understand. She’s the patient and forgiving…”

  “Fine,” said Fenton. “I won’t object to you accompanying us.”

  “How sweet,” I said, and I made the fireball a little brighter. “We’ll bring up the back. Since you didn’t bother to set a proper rearguard. Something else I’ll mention when I chat with the Overseer. Have a victorious day.”

  With that, I dismissed the fireball and turned on my heel. Russell and Riordan following. We walked past the anthrophages pushing the trucks. Their yellow eyes glared at me, and my skin crawled, and I felt the overwhelming urge to start killing the vile things. But I kept it together, and we walked past the last truck and joined the little caravan as it rolled along the gravel road.

  “Wow,” said Russell, smiling. “You can be really scary when you put your mind to it.”

  “I pretended to be a Rebel wizard the first time I came here,” I said. “It works really well. People suddenly get all respectful when they figure out I can burn out the inside of their skulls.”

  “That would do it,” said Russell.

  “How far to the border from here?” I said.

  “Eight miles,” said Riordan in a low voice, his eyes on the anthrophages. “About a two or three hours’ walk at this speed.”

  “We’ll run into the main Rebel
force long before that,” I said. “There’s no way Nicholas and Karst will put their troops too close to the Grayhold border. Knowing Jacob Temple, he would try to make trouble for them.”

  “Yes,” said Riordan.

  A thought occurred to me. “Hey, are you actually Graysworn?”

  Riordan sighed. “Yes, regrettably. I knew I needed Temple’s help to infiltrate the Rebels, so I sought him out after the High Queen gave me the writ of execution and the Ghostwright Mask.”

  “And he helped you?” I said. “I thought the two of you had…ah, a falling out.” Actually, if I remembered right, Riordan blamed Temple for refusing to help him save his brother Aidan. But I didn’t want to bring that up just now.

  “We did,” said Riordan. “And we’re not exactly fond of each other. But the stakes were too high.” He looked at me. “It wasn’t the time for personal disputes. Not with so much at risk.”

  “Like the Rebels and the Dark Ones,” said Russell.

  “Yes, exactly like that,” said Riordan.

  I felt a little flush of warmth. I knew Riordan wasn’t talking about the Rebels. He was talking about me. The flush of warmth turned into affection. Riordan didn’t care about political abstractions the way that Nicholas did. He cared about the real things, the real people, right in front of him.

  God, but I had missed him.

  But he had been with me for months, hadn’t he? He had taken insane risks to help me, was still taking those crazy risks.

  Later. I could think about those feelings later. Like when we weren’t surrounded by anthrophages and thousands of Rebel soldiers.

  “We’ll have to slip away before we get to the Grayhold border,” I said.

  “We will,” said Riordan. “But the chaos of that many men getting into position should give us ample opportunity.”

  Russell frowned. “Won’t they notice?”

  “They might,” said Riordan. “But they probably won’t. Ever been to a mall the week before Christmas?” Russell nodded. “Setting up a big military operation is like that, but more chaotic. If we don’t draw attention to ourselves, and if Nadia threatens anyone who makes trouble for us, we ought to be able to walk right through them. There will be tens of thousands of men and orcs and Archons there, and they’ll all be too busy to question us.”