Wander-A Night Warden Novel

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “You will not contain me with such primitive magic.”

  “Not by itself, no,” I answered, touching the edge of the circle. “But the runes you tried to invert weren’t only containment runes. You couldn’t invert them because they’re siphons—slowly draining you until I could use the lattice.”

  “You weaved the siphon into the containment—that was clever.”

  “Yes. That way, the more you tried to escape, the more energy fed the spell.” I narrowed my eyes and saw the lattice surround the sword. “Subtle but effective.”

  The fact that I could still hear her made me conscious of how much power the sword held. A mage hit with a Lazarus lattice lost all magical ability upon contact. That she could still communicate, even after it had enveloped the sword, meant it contained off-the-charts power. I couldn’t see Hades giving me this thing as a gesture of goodwill.

  “I have read your runic signature,” Izanami said as I reached out and grabbed the sword. It didn’t jump this time. “Touch my blade, allow me to sate my thirst with your life’s blood, and we shall be one. I can heal you.”

  “Do you hear how twisted you just sounded?” I said, looking at the sword. “I’m taking you back to Hades. I don’t want you. More importantly I don’t need you.”

  “That would be a mistake.”

  “The mistake would be bonding to some blood-drinking sword,” I snapped back. “Was that supposed to be your invitation?”

  “Yes. Did you not find it appealing?”

  I shook my head. “Can anyone else hear you?”

  “Only my host can hear me.”

  “We aren’t bonded.”

  “Not fully, no,” she said. “All that remains is more of your life-blood. Each time you held me, I siphoned some of your life force, which caused my sudden motion. You might even say it was…subtle but effective.”

  “Wait, Corbel and Hades both held you,” I said, quickly. “Why aren’t you bonded to either of them?”

  “Hades is a god, so to bond with an entity on that level would mutually negate our existence,” she replied. “I was created to destroy the supernatural—not empower it.”

  “What about Corbel?” I rubbed my face in frustration. This was getting worse by the second. “He isn’t a god.”

  “But he is bonded to one. You are my ideal host.”

  “This can’t be happening.” I placed a hand on the trunk, locking it. “I’m still giving you back.”

  “That action will accelerate your deteriorating condition.”

  “Hades knew this would happen—didn’t he?”

  “I am not imbued with telepathic abilities. I cannot say if he knew or not.”

  “Are you saying if I give you back I’ll just die faster?” I held the sword out and glared at it. “Just from touching you twice?”

  “See for yourself, mage,” she said. “Use your sight.”

  I narrowed my eyes and examined the sword. At first I didn’t see anything and was about to stop, when I saw them hundreds of filaments no thicker than a hair connected us.

  “What the hell are those?”

  “Runic conduits,” she whispered. “Do you understand now why we must bond? To sever them is to sever your existence.”

  I had never seen runic conduits, but Ziller mentioned it in his treatise on magical symbiosis. His work didn’t relate to some spirit-filled sword, but the principle was the same. Runic conduits formed between entities sharing a life-force for a prolonged period of time. The problem here was that I only touched the sword twice, and conduits were supposed to form over years.

  “How?”

  “I’m much older than you can imagine and have forgotten things you are still yet to learn,” she answered. “Can you grasp your situation now?”

  I put the sword down on the trunk and put on my duster.

  “I do, and all I can say is fuck you, and Hades.”

  “Your anger does not change your situation,” she said. “We must still bo—”

  I shoved the sword in the secret pocket, shutting her up. Hades had played me like a rookie. Corbel was right—he read me and pushed all the right buttons. I felt the rage and frustration rise. Black energy leaked out of my hands and set my head on fire as the pain rushed in. I unleashed a blast of dark magic and fell to my knees, gasping as footsteps rushed up the stairs. I sensed Cole at the doorway. Behind him stood Koda.

  “Grey?” he called out. He knew not to enter. The runes around the door pulsed a bright orange, indicating they were active. “You can’t keep doing this.”

  I raised an arm to indicate I was good. I wasn’t, but Cole could be worse than Roxanne when it came to my condition. I looked up to see Koda step into the room without being blasted to bits.

  “How the hell did you do that?” Cole stepped back, shaking his head.

  “I’ll deal with it,” I rasped and put a hand on the trunk to steady myself. “Can I get some—?”

  “Deathwish, I’m on it.” Cole headed downstairs. “I’ll make it to go.”

  I nodded silent thanks. Koda snaked an arm under mine and helped me sit on the trunk. I looked at her for a long while before speaking.

  “You’re not supposed to be able to do that.”

  “What, lift your old ass from the floor?”

  I pointed to the door. The runes still pulsed their bright orange. “If Cole had tried to walk through that door, we’d be picking up pieces of him right now.”

  She turned to the door and gave me a short nod, her face grim. “Like I’ve been saying—your security sucks.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I know for a fact you should be ghosted because I placed those runes, not Java.”

  “What the hell happened in here?” she said, trying to deflect. “Downstairs lit up like Times Square and Cole nearly lost it.”

  “How?” I got to my feet. “Tell me, or I can arrange to drop you off together with the psycho sword.”

  She looked up suddenly. Fear flitted across her face for a split second, followed immediately by anger. I felt like shit for using the threat, but I didn’t trust anyone. Especially not someone who could stroll through my defenses as if they didn’t exist.

  “In order to use the fans in my family you have to be a genetic outlier,” she said with a sigh. “I think that’s the real reason my father never used them. I think he wanted to, but my grandfather instructed my grand-uncle not to pass the fans to him.”

  “What are you?” I asked as my head began to clear. “I mean I know you’re human, but how do you walk through my door and not explode, or start the Shroud, and disassemble Fatebringer?”

  “I’m what’s known as a runic cipher.”

  “Impossible,” I scoffed. “That’s a myth. Everyone has some kind of energy signature—everyone.”

  She cocked her head to one side, placed her hands on her hips, and smiled. “Are you always this dense? Or were you dropped on your head repeatedly as a child?”

  “It’s a gift.” I moved to the worktable. I grabbed the sword book and placed it in the center of the containment circle. I crouched down to activate the runes, and the circle thrummed with energy. I pointed at the book. “Show me.”

  She walked over to the circle, crouched down, and remained motionless for a few seconds. She narrowed her eyes, snatched the book from the center, and tossed it to me.

  “I can see why Hades wanted you to work for him.” I held the book up and then looked at her. “The circle didn’t even ‘see’ you. It’s not my security—you’re a freak.”

  Her expression darkened. “Among other things, yes.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” I fumbled. “It’s just ciphers are supposed to be impossible.”

  “I’ve been called worse.” She stood and headed to the door. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  There was no way Hades would retire her. She could bypass any runic defense and emerge unscathed. No one and nothing was safe from her.

  I rolled up a piece of paper, tosse
d it at the circle, and watched it fall to the ground in a pile of ash. I looked at the sword book in my hand. There wasn’t a trace of damage—not even a singed page. Whatever ability she possessed was transferable by touch. This was a dangerous ability.

  I locked the door and headed downstairs. This situation was getting better by the hour.

  NINETEEN

  WE ARRIVED AT The New York Public Library with plenty of time to spare. Several locations in the city were designated places of power. The library was rumored to contain an underground vault that possessed magical artifacts. No one had ever discovered this vault, but it was undeniable that ambient magic permeated the area. The sensation of biting into a candy apple, sweet followed by sour, hit me as I parked the Beast in front of the famous stone lions, Patience and Fortitude. Corbel stood next to the northernmost one, Fortitude.

  “I need you to stay here.” I handed her a subdermal communicator. “You switch it on here” —I indicated where she needed to press—“and you’ll be able to hear the conversation. Turns off the same way.”

  “Are you seriously telling me to stay in the car?”

  “For now, yes.” I looked around us. “I don’t trust him any more than you do. I don’t know if he came alone; and if he didn’t, I would rather not give away that you’re here.”

  “He could just sense me, you know—‘hound of Hades’ and all that?”

  “Not in here.” I flipped a switch and the windshield polarized. All the other windows were tinted to restrict anyone from seeing inside. “The runes on the Beast won’t let him.”

  I didn’t go into how the curse acted like a constant jamming signal, causing active pain to anyone trying to scan the Beast. I strode up to Corbel and the lions, admiring them as I always did. It always felt like they were about to leap off their pedestals into the street and tear traffic to shreds.

  “I can’t believe SuNaTran released that menace to you—again.”

  “What can I say, Cecil likes me,” I said with a short nod. “He did promise to destroy it this time.”

  “I don’t know why he bothers, it didn’t take the last time. That vehicle is indestructible,” Corbel said, shaking his head. “The fallout from that incident prompted a visit from Hades.”

  “Could be he has something more powerful this time.” I shrugged. “A nuclear option like a super entropic spell. Maybe he’ll get Mr. Tea and Crumpets to unleash another void vortex and I can drive it in?”

  Corbel just stared at me. “Both of you are insane. Inform me when he’s about to start the process so I can leave the city for a while.”

  “Done,” I said, looking at his pained expression. “You want to go for a walk?”

  He nodded. “Let’s just put some distance between us and your deathmobile.” He rubbed his temples. “Thing always gave me a headache.”

  I climbed the steps, and he kept pace beside me.

  “Did anyone follow you?” he asked, looking around.

  “You tell me.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. “Seems like you left your Night Warden babysitters at home.”

  “No one follows the Beast for long,” I said. “Where’s your escort?”

  “They have the block cordoned off, with a subtle ‘stay away’ casting that should ensure us some privacy.”

  The same way Hades rarely traveled without his Hound, Corbel rarely traveled without a tribus-bellum—three mages I called the Shades. A traditional tribus contained offense, defense, and healing. The Shades were just different levels of destruction—wholesale, total, and massive. The last time I faced off against them, I was still able to cast and barely escaped with my life. I didn’t want to face them now.

  “I’m flattered.”

  “It sounded urgent, considering I told you two days, and here we are.”

  We walked around the building and onto the lawn of Bryant Park. The sweet/sour taste was stronger here. I heard the delicate melody of the active spell around us.

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was a cipher?”

  “Would it have made a difference?”

  I was conscious of the subdermal in my ear.

  “No, I still would’ve agreed.” I reached into my pocket and removed the sword. “This, on the other hand, needs to go back to your boss.”

  “You’re going to have to show me how you do that one day.” Looking at me as I pulled out the sword from my duster. Narrowing his eyes at me and then the sword, he sighed. “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean you can’t?” I said, raising my voice. “This thing” —I shook the sword at him—“wants me as its host. The last thing it said was I needed to let it sate itself on my life-blood.”

  “You should.”

  “Are you insane? I’m not going to let some bloodthirsty sword drink its fill of me.”

  “What’s the alternative?”

  “I return it. He said—”

  “No, you’re two-thirds of the way in on this now,” he said with a shake of his head. “Hades takes that sword back and let me share what will happen: you die.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Almost immediately.”

  “Okay, that I didn’t know. Shit.”

  “That sword was created to destroy beings like Hades and his kind.” He gave me a hard look. “If he takes it back, which he can’t, there would be an inevitable reaction and outcome—think matter and anti-matter.”

  “He knew. The bastard,” I said, realizing now I couldn’t return the sword. “He knew I wouldn’t risk it.”

  Frank’s words came back to me. He knows you. Better than you know yourself.

  “Stryder,” he started with a sigh, “I don’t like you, but I do respect you. I consider you a necessary evil in our city. One that must exist to stop some of the nastier things that roam the streets.”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you have a way with words?”

  “Listen to what I’m saying—for once.” He stopped and sniffed the air. “We have guests incoming.”

  “Guests?” I asked, looking around.

  “I can’t stay, so listen.” He grabbed my arm. “If you bond to the sword, you become a real threat to Hades and any being on his power level.”

  “I also become a target, so thanks, but no thanks.” I shrugged off his arm. “You have anything else to share about Koda?”

  “She’s talented, gifted, and deadly,” he said. “Try not to piss her off and you should get along.

  “I know all that, I meant about her being a cipher.”

  “That drove Hades crazy too,” he said with a chuckle and then grew serious. “You’re going to have to trust her, Stryder, or get better locks.”

  “She bypasses everything in my place.”

  “A piece of advice,” he said. “Ciphers are considered nil, nothing, both figuratively and literally. In a different age, when no energy signature could be found, they were killed at birth.”

  “I didn’t even think they could exist before today.”

  “Try a little kindness; treat her like a person and you won’t have to invest in stronger runic defenses.”

  “I don’t do trust, Corbel.”

  “I don’t see you have much of a choice. I’ll keep in touch.”

  He stepped back, faded out, and disappeared. The delicate melody was replaced with the foghorn of destruction. The sweet/sour of the library was followed by an aftertaste of old coffee.

  “Guests, my ass,” I muttered as I ran back to the Beast and stopped short at the edge of the park. “Koda, we have incoming. Prepare for—”

  “Oh, are you talking to me?” she responded. “Are you sure I can help you? It’s hard to know who to trust these days.”

  “Cut the crap,” I growled. “If you’re this bent, we can talk it out later. Right now we have rummers to deal with.” She dropped her camouflage and appeared next to me. Her masking had kept her hidden from my senses. I gave her a nod and grunted begrudgingly. “Not bad.”

  “You
’d better believe we’re talking this out later, in a language you understand—on the second floor.” She materialized her fans and stepped away from me. “Are you using that?” She pointed to the sword in my hand.

  I shook myself out of my shock, put the sword in a pocket, and drew Fatebringer. A pack of rummers, followed by several ogres, was coming our way.

  TWENTY

  THEY STREAMED IN from the north side of the park. This placed them between the Beast and us. I counted over twenty rummers and three ogres. This was getting out of hand. The rummers I understood, but the ogres made no sense.

  “We cut a path through them and get to the Beast,” I said as they approached. “Then we bug out, clear?”

  She nodded, and I made sure Fatebringer was loaded with negation rounds. “Let’s do this.” I saw her eyes flash red. “I’ll take the rummers.”

  “I’ll go have a chat with the ogres.”

  She nodded and raced off. I didn’t have much time to focus on her before the first ogre closed on me.

  “Time to die, wizard,” it said with a grunt and swung. Ogres relied on their brute strength and near invulnerability to magic when they fought.

  Unfortunately for them, I didn’t use magic. I ducked under the swing and fired Fatebringer three times point-blank. The negation rounds punched into the ogre, staggering it. A few seconds later, the rounds reduced the ogre to dust.

  “Oh, these will be banned soon, I’m sure,” I muttered, looking at the pile of ogre dust as a kick from behind launched me across the field. Ogre number two caught me unawares, and would have shattered my spine if it weren’t for my duster absorbing and dissipating the blow over its surface. The only downside was the increased heat.

  I gave Aria silent thanks as I rolled on the grass and came up firing. I fired twice, two shots center mass. Ogre number two burst into dust. I grabbed a speed loader and reloaded Fatebringer as a fist rushed at my head. How were they moving so fast? I managed to turn and duck and didn’t see the other fist rush into my side. Again, the duster saved me from multiple broken parts as I sailed across and bounced over the lawn.

  I felt the ogre closing in—fast. Sweat poured down my face as I tried to get a bead on the incoming agent of massive pain. My hand shook as I fired twice, hitting the ogre with no effect. I took a two-handed grip on Fatebringer and fired again—the rounds about as effective as pillows. I holstered my gun, cursed, and reached into the pocket, pulling out the sword.