by James Somers
Then something entirely unexpected and shocking happened. Black’s spirit was repelled, hurled violently away from the boy. He passed through their hosts again and was thrown out into the mortal world.
The effect was explosive. Southresh was blown one way into a wall of the office building they had procured for the ritual. Anubis was blasted through the glass façade that made up the front of the building. Brody slid to the floor like a lump, still unconscious and aware of nothing that had transpired.
Fortuitous
Oliver arrived in Whitehall, in the middle of the street. He could sense Brody very near and Southresh as well. He regretted the absence of Malak-esh. At least, he might have some hope of rescuing his young brother with that weapon on hand. Nevertheless, he would do the best he could.
He prayed silently for God’s direction and the strength he did not possess in of himself. Oliver noticed a massive portal trace left just ahead. He had little doubt as to the power necessary to generate such a gateway and of the source of that power.
One of the Fallen had been here. And, given that Anubis had been calling the Lycan’s to him in London, he assumed that particular angel must have been the one generating it. The portal had clearly been open, but was now closed.
“His army has gone through to attack Tidus,” he whispered to himself.
Happening to glance toward the northern side of the road, Oliver noticed the shattered glass façade of one of Whitehall’s office buildings. This, in of itself, would not have been anything peculiar, considering London’s current state. However, there was fresh smoke coming from inside.
He crossed the road and immediately found two individuals lying out on the steps ahead. One was Kron, the other a Lycan whom he was not familiar with. Both of them were unconscious with steam rising off of their bodies.
The near feeling to both Southresh and Brody lay directly ahead. Had there been a battle here? He walked through the shattered window, stepping lightly on shards of broken glass for fear that he might lose the element of surprise on Southresh—keenly aware that surprise was the only element he had at his disposal right now.
Oliver had expected to find Southresh inside, but he found Brody unconscious against a wall instead. He surveyed the room, finding another smoldering body lying inside of a hole in the wall. It was Southresh—he could sense him despite the mortal body he inhabited.
Going back to Brody, he raised his head and found that he was bloody and bruised. Someone had beaten him about the face severely. One of his eyes was swelled shut, and his jaw was blue and swollen. Dried blood was smeared across his face from his nose and mouth and a cut across his cheek.
“I’ve got to get you out of here,” Oliver whispered. He concentrated upon the throne room in the palace at Tidus and then formed a portal to take them there. They warped out of London, leaving the others lying where they had fallen.
Redclaw walked along the battlements near the main gate to the city of Tidus. This main gate, among four, was the largest and opened toward the river and the wood beyond. Lycans often used this gate to visit the river and hunt in the wood, a favorite pastime of the werewolves.
He had stationed himself and his rifle brigade here in order to protect the most likely target of the invading force coming from the forest. If they got anywhere near it, which they would attempt, then he and his riflemen would stop their advance. Here on the battlements, and at the gatehouse, they had boxes of ammunition stashed and extra rifles.
Each rifleman had been paired with another ordinary soldier who had been taught how to load the Winchesters. In this way, they could keep every rifleman shooting at a consistent rate without having to stop and reload. Instead, they traded weapons for one already loaded and left the other to the ammunition loaders.
He tensed when he heard the first noise of Lycan soldiers massing in the wood beyond the river. He noticed that they weren’t doing as much as they should have been to mask their positions. The attack would happen very soon, but Redclaw felt confident.
Drawing Uriah’s pistol from its holster, Redclaw willed the weapon his brother had left him to transform itself into a sharp shooter’s rifle. For a moment, the weapon rearranged its components, growing longer and larger, forming a rifle with a shiny scope on the top.
The spelled rifle was large enough for a troll’s hands, exquisitely crafted by the elves of Xandrea and the finest weapon Redclaw believed he had ever handled. And it had been Uriah’s weapon, the same that had called to him from the Forge in the elf city. This was the only item left to him by his brother and, undeniably, the most valuable. It would never need repair or reloading.
A cry of war resounded from the trees across the river. As Redclaw had surmised, the attack came quickly. This first rally cry was as much a fear tactic as anything—meant to scare the wits out of one’s enemy by making them feel hopelessly outnumbered. But Redclaw’s newly drafted soldiers on the wall held firm. They were, after all, Lycans and they didn’t scare easy.
“Hold fast!” Redclaw shouted to his soldiers.
Sophia had placed him in command of this defense, and he intended to see it through to the end. He had ordered the Queen, as her Master at Arms, to stay within the throne room in the palace. It had been prepared as a war room of sorts, secured and guarded by Donatus, Laish, Tom and Charlotte.
They were the last line of defense for Her Majesty, if his defense failed to keep out the invading army. Redclaw pitied any of that army who managed to get past him. Donatus and Laish would surely make them pay for any attempt on the Queen’s life.
He couldn’t help but wonder where Brody was. Oliver had gone searching for him, but there had been no word from either of them since. It wasn’t like the boy to wander far from Sophia. Something had happened. He only hoped it wasn’t the worst.
Within minutes, the first enemy soldiers appeared at the edge of the wood. They were running hard for the river with others coming behind them. Redclaw and his forces watched but did nothing—not yet.
Lycans under the banner of Anubis came at them in a skirmish line at least one hundred persons wide. They were going to attempt to attack the wall in as many locations as possible. Still, Redclaw waited. Then the first enemy soldiers went down.
Down through one of Laish’s portal traps. They had seen nothing in front of them but green grass and leaves from the trees. However, they had actually stepped through portals with invisible boundary lines.
Laish had set these all along the opposite bank of the river, mostly in the flanking areas. Dozens fell through the traps, exiting in the North Atlantic where the cold would end them through severe hypothermia before any marine predators could. But the Lycans learned quickly and stopped, trying to prevent any more from falling prey.
The soldiers who had been running for the main gate had strangely not encountered any of these dimensional traps. The remainder of the army, seeing their success, followed them. They leaped over the stream and kept on coming.
The army of Anubis had been outfitted with swords and spears, leather-bound shields and armor. Yet, with all of this preparation, they had come in vain. As they rapidly closed the gap to the wall, Redclaw signaled the others with his first shot.
Redclaw’s riflemen laid down suppressing fire, shooting from the safety of the wall and killing dozens of their Lycan brethren who had recently gone from Tidus to join Anubis. They cocked their rifles, fired and cocked them again in rapid succession. The army of Anubis was out in the open. They had no chance. Either they made a run for the main gate or died trying.
One thing was sure. Their army could not remain exposed like this. Redclaw’s riflemen did not let up. And, even though many had died already, they would not stop shooting until the bodies heaped up to the height of the wall.
The enemy soldiers attempted to protect themselves with their shields, but the Winchester cartridges were powerful enough to kill an elephant. Leather armor was of no more help than paper. The bullets passed through easily, leaving a field
of slaughter between the river and the wall.
Redclaw took aim through his scope and fired, repeating the process more times than he could count. He had no need of swapping rifles. The spell upon the weapon kept it ready to fire at all times. Only their speed and sheer numbers made it possible for the Lycans to get anywhere near the wall.
Still, Redclaw searched for Anubis himself. If he could find the angel leading this army and kill his host, he might be able to stop this entire conflict with one shot. Donatus had surmised that the hosts of the Fallen served as anchors to keep them from returning immediately to Tartarus. He just had to find him. But so far, Anubis had not made his way onto the battlefield.
Archetype
Donatus conferred with Laish on the matter of defending the throne room and Queen Sophia. The cries of battle and the sounds of gunfire from the wall had already begun minutes before. Tom and Charlotte were sitting with her, consoling her more for Brody than for the war raging beyond Tidus’s wall.
Guards had also been posted at the entrances leading into the throne room, in addition to the invisible barriers that Donatus and Laish had conjured. It would be nearly impossible for the enemy soldiers to break through. But that wasn’t who they were expecting. Anubis would be coming. Although, so far, he had not made an appearance on the battlefield.
Even with Redclaw’s rifle brigade on the wall and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of guns and ammunition, Anubis had the potential to undo everything. He might approach the city and blast right through the wall with his power. Their soldiers and riflemen would be wounded or killed in the process. But there was nothing else that could be done. At the very least, they hoped to decimate the army of Anubis first.
At least, that was what they had all hoped for until the arrival of an unexpected guest. Somehow, he had gotten by the shields put in place and the lack of portals leading into Tidus. If there had been any possible way to prepare, no one had done so.
“Good evening!” Grayson Stone shouted in a loud voice.
Many things happened simultaneously. All eyes found the source of the familiar voice that had spoken, recognizing his person at once. Cold chills of fear came upon everyone present when they saw him. And Grayson Stone grinned devilishly at them all.
Tom and Charlotte were closest because he had appeared near Sophia. Tom had kept Oliver’s wolf’s head cane with him all this time, preparing to return it to its rightful owner when he arrived. He raised it toward Grayson and the sprite who had appeared with him in an elegant dinner gown.
Lightning flew from Grayson’s fingertips, but was discharged upon the staff. Recognizing the weapon for what it was, Grayson immediately changed tactics, using Lucifer’s power to shift the ground sideways beneath Tom’s feet. He fell suddenly, dropping the cane when he smashed into the marble tiles. Grayson willed the cane away before Tom could grab it again.
In the meantime, Charlotte had moved to attack as well. Her blades in hand, she leaped toward the sprite. But Lux caught her gaze, paralyzing her. Charlotte landed in a heap upon the floor, eyes wide open but unable to move.
Donatus and Laish were already making their attempts, even as Lycan guards rushed to the aide of their queen. Grayson focused on the dangerous Superomancers first. The guards were of little to no consequence at all. He teleported as lightning cascaded across the dais from Laish. Donatus attempted to shield Sophia from both Laish and Grayson.
The son of Lucifer reappeared between the two elf brothers, sending out a shockwave that pummeled the two men, knocking everyone in the room off of their feet and shattering the windows. He followed with one of the more powerful attacks, lightning, on both of the Superomancers, hitting them hard and leaving them unconscious.
Tom leaped through the air, only to meet the back of Grayson’s hand. He was knocked away easily, landing near unconscious Laish on the floor. Sophia remained on the dais, fixed by Lux’s overpowering gaze.
Grayson walked back toward the Queen, laughing to himself. It had all been too easy. When he reached the throne, Grayson turned at a sudden flash of light.
Behind him, Oliver James had appeared with Brody. Grayson waited for him to realize the situation. He was in the mood to play and make them all suffer for how his plans had been spoiled.
Oliver immediately noticed his friends scattered around the throne room, unconscious or paralyzed. He threw up his extension, ejecting lightning toward Grayson. The son of Lucifer threw up his hands, drawing in the energy, overtaking it and reversing it upon its sender.
Oliver attempted to fight back, but his strength was turned upon him so that he was fighting himself and the power of Lucifer. He sank to his knees, locked into the exchange and unable to break free. His extension failed as he dropped to his hands exhausted. Lucifer continued the attack, punishing Oliver for his attempt by the lightning coursing through his body.
The connection was suddenly broken and Lucifer’s attack nullified. Brody stood with Malak-esh in his hand. The mercurial blade glowed brightly absorbing the energy expended by the angel within Grayson.
Recognizing the only chance I had to stop Grayson and Lucifer from killing everyone in the throne room, I charged toward him with Angel Fire extended before me. Shockwaves and lightning, fireballs and sheer force of will were all absorbed by Malak-esh.
I could hardly believe the power this sword possessed, but I wasn’t going to stop to question its ability to nullify the angel’s power. I ran at him headlong and saw some measure of fear in Grayson’s eyes for the first time. I noticed Sophia upon her throne, staring. Then I followed her line of sight and found Lux.
My advance instantly faltered and stopped. I had looked upon her face. That same lyrical voice spoke to me, telling me to do no harm. Her beauty overwhelmed me again. Though I knew what was happening to me in the back of my mind, I could not stop it.
My inner voice of reason was quickly drowned out. She had me under her sway just as I had been at Grayson’s family estate. A tear ran down my cheek, knowing that I had come so close to victory only to fail everyone that I cared about at this last moment. I was frozen in place with Malak-esh held high and back, ready to strike Grayson down—a statue forever frozen and never delivering its final blow.
Redclaw heard screams coming from the palace behind him. All the way at the wall, he heard the bell signaling an emergency. He turned to look and saw guards running towards the palace, answering the calls of guards running outside.
The battle was well under control here at the wall. In fact, his rifle brigade had managed to hold off the Lycans with little help from archers or anyone else stationed on the wall. Lycean’s preparations for war with the vampires had paid off unbelievably well against an even greater threat.
He couldn’t explain why, but Anubis had still not appeared on the battlefield. He couldn’t help but wonder if the angel had somehow diverted attention to the attacking army in order to gain access to the palace covertly. While he and the others were out here shooting at pawns, Anubis might already be inside securing the Queen.
Redclaw turned to a small group firing from the upper guardhouse, over the main gate, where he had stationed himself. “Remain here and keep them away from the wall as long as possible,” he said. “I must get to the palace.”
He leaped down to the ground from a height of nearly thirty feet, sprinting from there toward the palace over five hundred yards away. When he finally arrived, Redclaw found glass shards from the throne room windows above. Certainly, something monumental had happened inside to cause them to blow outward like this.
He ran inside, down the halls, toward the throne room and found the doors open, blown almost off of their hinges. An explosion had occurred. Lightning flew through his visual field telling him that the conflict was still underway.
Guards had established a perimeter around the inside of the chamber, but they were kept out by an invisible barrier. When Redclaw looked beyond, to the dais where the throne was set, he found Grayson Stone there. He had expected An
ubis. This was worse.
The son of Lucifer was in control in the room. The Queen was sitting upon her throne in a state of catatonia, unmoving. Others were lying unconscious on the floor, including Laish, Donatus and Oliver. Tom was also on the floor. He was unsure whether or not Charlotte was alive at all. She lay on the marble tiles with her eyes open, unblinking.
Brody stood before Grayson with his arm raised high, holding his special weapon called Angel Fire and Malak-esh. He stood as still as stone, apparently under the influence of a sprite floating nearby to Grayson. Her gaze was fixed upon Brody.
Redclaw roared angrily, raising his weapon. He fired it at Grayson Stone, but the bullets disintegrated upon impact with the energy barrier Lucifer had employed. He transformed the weapon into a large pistol, using the heavier firing power on the shield. Still, he could not get through. He cried out to Brody, but his cries were kept out.
Music resounded in my mind. The sprite’s lyrical voice ebbed and flowed among my thoughts, binding me firmly to the will of the beautiful woman before me. I vaguely considered that Sophia was similarly bound, though we could not share the joy of the situation with one another.
I awaited the sprite’s will—her happiness meant everything to me once again. I recalled how this had happened before, as though I had spent many years away and had now come home. My body was rigid, but there was no pain. Only an enthusiasm to do her bidding remained.
Grayson laughed and finally spoke to the girl whom I could not take my eyes from. “How delightful,” he commented. “I so enjoy these situations.”
“What is your bidding?” Lux asked, still watching Brody.
Grayson considered this question for a moment, the delight clearly shown in his eyes. “Have him cut his own throat with that abominable sword,” he said.