I leveled my sword and set it in front of me. I pressed both pedals to gain as much speed as I could. I saw the strings pulled back to their furthest point and then release. I slammed into the steed at the same point and my sword ripped through one arrow, tore into the iron plates on the side of the steed, and burst out the other side and cut the bow string. I’d plunged my sword right in front of Antiocus and just behind the steed’s two front legs. The Black Knight plowed into the Horseman of Pestilence. Lifting it up, we traveled toward the White House.
I released my sword, and the Horseman tore up the ground as it ground to a halt. Antiocus looked at me and yelled, “You might have tried to kill me but you missed! And my Iron Horseman still moves!”
I still couldn’t move. My cannon arm was still pinned by the arrow through my shield and chest plate. My sword remained impaled in Pestilence, and all I had left were two of the coiled spikes, but those weren’t really weapons. Behind me, I heard a battle cry followed by, “Death has come for you!” The Horseman of Death, who I’d slipped past and forgotten about, slammed his scythe into the Black Knight’s back. The large curved blade ripped through the iron armor and sliced through my shirt nearly cutting my back open.
I rolled forward. I needed a weapon and I needed one fast. What about the electro-lances that the Tinkerer had created? They’d been loaded on the carriage with the tornado machine. I hadn’t taken them on the Vimana, because I didn’t need them there. Turning, I charged the Washington Monument, knowing my father and the baron were set up near its base.
One good thing, I was drawing the Horsemen away from the Iron Lotus and Iron Templar.
I could feel blood trickling down my back as I glanced back over my shoulder to see both Horsemen charging after me. In the distance, my father, the baron, and Finn stood by the carriage watching the battle. Sticking up out of the back of the carriage, the lances pointed skyward. As I approached, my father pointed at me as he and Finn helped the baron move to the other side of the carriage.
I thought about each action I’d have to take, planning every movement, rehearsing each step in my mind. I’d only have one shot at this.
“First, skid to the back of the carriage.” I hit the brakes on the treads and gouged out two ruts in the ground as I stopped. “Don’t hit the carriage.” I extended the Black Knight’s arm and grabbed one electro-lance. “Grab one as a backup.” I stuck it into the slot where my sword had gone, and snagged a second lance. “Move quickly to get the Horsemen away from the carriage.” I could almost feel the hot fiery demonic breath of the steeds as I spun around. The Horsemen were closing fast. “Prepare the lance.” I flipped the switch on the lance, and set it under the Black Knight’s arm as if I were jousting in a tournament. “Now, charge!”
I unleashed a battle cry as I rushed toward the Horsemen. I had to choose which one to strike knowing the other would attack me. I focused on Antiocus as his steed was the most damaged.
We collided like boulders smashed together by the hand of God. The electro-lance pierced the chest of the Horseman of Pestilence and sparked. Electricity arced through the metallic steed and the quartz heart blew out from its niche and slammed into the grass, meters away. As Antiocus screamed in rage, I saw my father run over and scoop up the heart for safekeeping. The electro-lance was ripped from my hand as it continued discharging into the Horseman, and within seconds the steed, which had reared up on its hind legs, collapsed as the plates and gears separated and landed in a pile of iron around Antiocus’s now limp form. I’d done it! I’d defeated one of the Horsemen.
I wanted to celebrate, but Death was coming for me. Lord Marbury charged from the right, and because my cannon arm was pinned against my chest it only pointed to my right. I pulled the triggers and fired both barrels. The rounds missed but were close enough to force the Horseman of Death to take evasive action, and that gave me the opportunity to grab the other electro-lance off my back. Death pressed forward again, swinging his scythe like a madman. I blocked it with the lance. He raised the scythe to slice me in two, and I had to move. I flipped the switch to prepare the lance, rolled forward, and thrust it up at the rider, not the steed. The scythe slammed down and the Black Knight shuddered as the thick handle thudded on its shoulder. Had the scythe’s blade missed me? I didn’t have time to wonder as the lance connected with Lord Marbury’s chest and sparks exploded all around him, throwing him to the ground.
I suddenly realized the churning and chugging noise of the Black Knight’s engine had fallen silent. I twisted around to look out one of the slits on the back of the helmet and saw the scythe had impaled the engine and boiler tank. I pulled my arms out of the armor’s arms and sat there for a moment. The battle wasn’t over, but my Black Knight was done.
I heard a high pitched whine coming closer, and the cannon arm of the Black Knight was ripped off, severed by a cannon blast. I knew more would be coming. With the shield arm gone, and the arrow that had pinned it ripped off, I threw open the chest plate and jumped out, hitting the ground and rolling away. A round slammed into the back of the Black Knight, dead center, leaving a gaping hole the size of my fist.
Where had the shot come from? I turned and saw the Horseman of War charging from the riverbank. I was a dead man if I didn’t think fast. Just behind me, stood the Horseman of Death. Marbury’s body lay several meters away, but the fire that glowed from deep within the steed still simmered. The tattered green cloth that covered the iron plates fluttered in the breeze as my hand slipped down to the leather pack still slung over my shoulder. My fingers slid over the crystal shaped bulge and the world around me stilled, fading away until all I saw was the steed, the amethyst Heart, and victory.
Alexander the Great looked for the one moment in every battle when the scales of destiny were ready to tip. He would seize that moment and strike, and in doing so, he’d never lost a battle. This was my moment. Two horsemen remained. The army of the Knights of the Golden Circle had destroyed much of the Templar’s troops. With this Iron Horseman, I could ensure victory. Not for the Golden Circle, or the Templars, but for Genevieve and my father and Indihar and Lianhua and Owethu and Captain Baldarich and everyone who believed in freedom and rejected slavery. I could win for me.
Calmly, as if I had all the time in the world, I walked over and opened the chest of the Horseman of Death. Inside sat the white urn which should have been in the Horseman of Pestilence. The amethyst Crusader Heart was the correct heart for this Iron Horseman. They’d used the wrong one out of necessity. But holding the correct crystal in my hand felt like destiny. The traitor Lord Marbury tried to be Death, but had failed. Hendrix had tried for years to get me to be an Iron Horseman. And now, I realized the Templars had feared this moment. They had feared me.
I ripped out the white urn and placed the amethyst crystal inside. It fit perfectly. Placing my foot on one of the leg joints I jumped up on the back of the steed and slipped into the rider’s seat, protected by iron plates.
I took the reins of the Horsemen of Death, and power surged within me. The fire burning inside the steed exploded out of every joint, but didn’t burn me. Dark, shadowy wisps, whipped off of every edge. The steed grew, it’s power expanding with every moment. The beast snorted, blowing fire and smoke from its nostrils.
I raised the white urn in the air. The world remained still, and everything seemed to slow. Except for me. As the whole world held its breath, I drew my Thumper with my other hand.
“Hendrix!” My voice resonated like rolling thunder. “Your power is now my power!” I tossed the white urn in the air and pushed the trigger on my Thumper. A concussive blast shattered the urn. A blast of energy ripped outward like a tsunami and knocked over the Black Knight.
Time sped up to normal. I pulled down my goggles, reloaded the Thumper and slipped it back into the holster. I reached down and my fingers wrapped around the scythe’s handle, now sticking straight up out of the back of the Black Knight. Wrenching it free, I held it high and set my sights on the Horse
man of War.
CHAPTER 53
WAR VS. DEATH
“Hendrix!” I charged the Horseman of War with my scythe raised. The steed’s pounding hooves tore up the ground below me, and the hypnotic galloping rhythm, the surging, fiery breath, and the crackle of the fires burning within blocked out all other noise from the battlefield. My vision was clear and focused on the cloaked rider thundering toward me.
General Hendrix swung his large two-handed sword, and I struck with my scythe. Sparks flew like lightning as we clashed. Charging past each other, we spun around to make another run.
“You’ve joined me boy! Just as I always said you would.” Hendrix cackled like the madman he was. He pushed back his hood, pulled out his Stetson, and set it firmly on his brow. “Choose another rider to replace that Roman autocrat, and together we can claim our empire!”
“I’m not here to destroy the world, I’m here to deliver it!” I screamed so loud my throat felt dry and scratchy.
We clashed again and again, rounding on each other as his sword and my scythe glowed like burning embers against the eerie orange sky.
Without warning, Hendrix broke away and charged the troops guarding the White House. He attacked the Templar and Freemason troops and the US Army troops behind them. I pressed my attack, forcing him to defend himself against me instead of going after the troops.
Then I saw the Duke’s royal seal. I looked up and saw Richard, his father, Sinclair, Eustache, and several other Templar elite on the balcony of the White House. They stood with several men in suits, including Mr. Revere. They hadn’t wanted me to fight, and yet now, I was set to save them from Hendrix. I smiled and raised my scythe in salute, but they all recoiled. The Duke had real fear in his eyes.
Hendrix leapt in front of me. The Horseman’s hooves shook the ground causing the men on the balcony to grab the railing. He swung his sword, and I defended myself. He locked his blade with mine.
“Strike them, Alexander.” Hendrix’s steed stood next to mine. I kept the pressure on my blade, and he locked eyes with me. “In one moment you could end the Templar, remold the Order as you see fit.”
I knew he was right. With a swipe of my scythe I could seize the knighthood I’d dreamed about. I could end Genevieve’s nightmare. I could destroy the Duke and she could marry me instead of that sniveling Richard. Those around Sinclair had refused my request to become a Templar. They said I wasn’t ready, despite saving the Order and the world twice before. They looked down on me because I wasn’t noble born. I was descended from Templars, but that hadn’t been good enough for them. My ancestor had dedicated his life to hiding the Hearts, but that hadn’t mattered. I was an American, and yet Mr. Revere and the other Freemasons hadn’t trusted me. They wanted to fight in the armors, to seize the glory for themselves.
They all disgusted me. None of them were worthy.
I could end the Templar and the Knights of the Golden Circle right now. End the centuries of fighting. They’d been secretly manipulating the world like a game of chess, and now, I had the power to end this destructive cycle, once and for all. To set the world right and remake it as it should be.
I’d traveled further than my namesake, the greatest general in the history of the world. He was my age when he began to conquer the world. I could finish what he started. Hendrix was right.
“Alexander, join me,” the Horseman of War said. “Become Alexander the Great.”
“I don’t need your permission.” I pressed on his blade, trying to force my scythe through his defense. “And I don’t need you!”
I pulled the reins and my steed reared and pawed the air with its mighty hooves, then slammed down on the Horseman of War, pushing Hendrix back and away from the White House. I turned and from this vantage point finally saw the whole battlefield. Owethu was being overrun by the horde of Armors from the Vimana. I saw a swarm of bugs at the other end of the Mall. A column of flame erupted from its center and I knew Genevieve and Rodin must be within it. As I watched, the swarm dissipated, the Horseman of Famine collapsed, and I knew Genevieve had defeated her mother. Looking toward Mr. Singh, I saw him working on the back of the Iron Lotus. He was restarting the boilers on the armors. They would soon be back in the fight.
The Bronze Knight turned toward me, her visor looked like it had been torn off. She saw me, and horror flashed across her face. She charged toward me and screamed, “Alexander, no!” Her voice pierced through to my soul and the ache in my heart felt like it weighed more than the earth itself.
I sensed danger, but my stomach didn’t ache, like a voice in the back of my mind telling me that Hendrix was about to strike. The future flashed through my mind. I would defeat Hendrix, using my anger to overpower his. Then the four Iron Armors—my friends—would face me, but they wouldn’t be able to kill me. I would defeat them one by one. Then I’d face the Duke and force him to flee back to England. Once I had all four Hearts, no one, not the Knights of the Golden Circle or the Knights Templar would ever be able to stop me.
I watched the Bronze Knight crossing the field. If I continued, I’d have to fight her. She reached out toward me and I heard her voice once again call my name.
Then Hendrix struck. I leapt to the side and his blade missed me. I was back next to the fallen Black Knight. I maneuvered around my shattered armor and charged the Horseman of War. Our blades clashed again and again. Then a clang rang out, piercing the thunderous noise of battle. My scythe had cut through his sword, and sank into the neck of his steed.
“I am the Horseman of War! I am the future Emperor. You’re just the boy who was supposed to help me!” Hendrix threw his broken sword toward my steed’s head, barely missing me. “Victory will be mine!”
“Never!”
Hendrix fired the grappling hook from his sleeve. The three-clawed hand wrapped around my shoulder and side, then yanked me from the steed as the line retracted. He held me above him as I struggled to get free. “Decide right now, Alexander. Will you stand with me or against me? What is it that you want? I will grant you any wish. All you need do is say the words.”
Held aloft, the sun, not the orange fiery sky but the warm rays of that distant ball of fire hit my face. In the distance, Genevieve called my name. She sounded far away, but my sole focus remained on the bright orb above me. My mind drifted to Diogenes. He’d been given the same offer by Alexander the Great. Anything he wished for, Alexander would grant him, and yet all he’d asked for was for Alexander to step aside so the philosopher could feel the warmth of the sun again.
Genevieve called my name again and again.
The Amethyst Heart had offered me a vision of victory, but to get it I’d have to fight my friends. Hendrix offered me anything I wanted, but maybe I was a bit too cynical to think he could offer me what I really wanted. The sun offered me warmth and light and the hope of a brighter tomorrow. Diogenes was a brilliant man. To ask for nothing more than the sun, he’d outwitted Alexander the Great.
“The sun. I want the sun.” I said smiling through the pain as the grappling claw cut into my skin.
“What?” Hendrix looked confused. Then his confusion turned to rage. “You fool!” He squeezed his claw and I winced in pain. “Now you die.”
“Not yet!” With my hands free, I drew my Thumpers from their holsters and pressed them into the eyes of Hendrix’s steed. Pushing both triggers, the head exploded and the concussive blast rippled like a giant wave down through the mechanics of the neck and body. A huge fireball engulfed us, Hendrix was knocked out of the steed, and he released me as we both crashed into the dirt.
I wanted to remain on the ground, not caring what happened next, but then I saw the Jade Crusader Heart glowing below the smoldering husk of the iron steed. My blast had knocked it out of the horse, and if I could get it away from Hendrix, he’d lose his power. I tried to find solid ground to stand, but slipped. My fingers clawed at the churned up dirt, but I had no traction. Then Hendrix’s three-clawed grappled arm snagged the heart and pulled it
to him.
Rage burned within his good eye, as the other sparked ever brighter. “I will not lose this day. I will not lose to a brat!” Hendrix spat the words like he was shooting a pistol at me.
I struggled to stand, but I had to face Hendrix like a knight. Gone was my armor. I no longer had the power of the Crusader Heart at my control. All I had for a weapon was the Bowie Knife Captain Baldarich had given me two years ago. I drew the blade from its sheath and took a fighting stance before General Hendrix.
He laughed at me, but I didn’t care. Pain racked my body. My back bled, my side and head swam in throbbing pain. But I would not falter before this evil.
Hendrix yanked open the bronze plate over his heart. I saw blood, charred skin, and bone. He shoved the Jade Heart inside and closed the plate. Hendrix fell forward and roared out in agony. He pounded the ground with his real fist, and as he did, the shadowy wisps enveloped him. The metal parts of his body grew and became more menacing, the bronze color blackened, and spikes emerged. His mechanical arm morphed, the gun barrel came out and merged with the blade; the electronics formed into a lightning canon. He stood up and raised his arms.
“Power! True power now flows through my veins!”
This wasn’t good. He had a lightning cannon for an arm. He looked twice as big as he had, and more menacing than when I’d first met him. All I had was a knife and enough pain that I just wanted to lay down.
Hendrix eyed me. I was too injured to move quickly. Then a bronze flash zipped past me. Rodin, doubling in size, growing from a large bird to a long, thin dog as he flew past, slammed into Hendrix, knocking him over and blasting him with a torrent of fire. But Hendrix just swatted Rodin away.
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