Conryu released his spell. “You can come out now, Crystal.”
The wall of stone collapsed and Crystal stepped over the debris. She stared at their unconscious foes and then at him. “Wow.”
Conryu grinned. “I’d say this round is ours.”
Lady Tiger stood on an overpass above the street leading to the museum. The bright morning sun warmed her shoulders. She’d gotten little sleep the night before, but adrenaline and determination were working hand in hand to keep her up and focused. Today was it. If she failed there wouldn’t be another chance. She would either claim the artifact or die trying. What Lady Dragon would do to her if she failed and survived didn’t bear consideration.
The Ministry van had to follow this route if they wanted to reach the front entrance of the museum. In her right hand she grasped a ruby the size of her thumb knuckle. She’d been saving the gem for an emergency, building up the energy stored inside it for years. If ever there was a moment to use it, this was it.
An SUV whizzed past her and a little boy in the back stared at her masked face. It was strange, the little details you noticed in the moments before battle. One time, years ago, on the eve of a battle, she’d spent ten minutes staring at a spider building its web. For some reason it had fascinated her.
The ruby glowed as she poured more fire magic into it. The gem couldn’t hold much more and when it detonated, the fireworks should be impressive.
A moment later the Ministry van rounded a bend and came into view. Time to start the dance. “Awaken.”
The ruby glowed even brighter and she hurled it at the van. It got brighter and brighter as it grew closer.
The driver tried to swerve, but the gem flew as she willed.
When it struck the grill, the ruby resembled a tiny sun.
An instant later it detonated.
The van flew up, flipped over, and crashed on its roof. The wheels burst into flame and the gas tank exploded, sending a tiny mushroom cloud into the sky.
Drivers honked and swerved around the wreck.
How many cellphones were calling in the attack? Even one was too many.
Lady Tiger leapt off the overpass and flew down, eager to collect her prize before the wizards recovered. It never even crossed her mind that the powerful attack might have killed them all.
She landed beside the burning van and waved her hand. The rear doors ripped off and flew behind her. Inside, battered and bleeding Ministry wizards lay tossed about like crash dummies, groaning and trying to sort themselves out. Two had wounds that appeared fatal.
Lady Tiger grabbed the first container she came to, popped the latches, and looked inside. It held a silvery ring, not what she was after.
She tossed the container aside and grabbed the next one. Another bust.
Container after container went flying until on the third-to-last she found the broken artifact. She stroked the cool metal. At last.
She slipped the semicircle of elf metal into her pocket.
“You there, stop!”
A pair of men in red uniforms drew wooden batons and ran toward her. Stupid men.
She pointed and two streams of flame shot out. The blaze engulfed the men in an instant and reduced them to ash.
The momentary distraction cost her. A powerful force struck her in the chest and sent her flying.
The defensive spell she’d cast earlier absorbed most of the impact as she bounced and then slid across the pavement.
One of the Ministry wizards, her face covered with blood, stumbled out of the wrecked van. She pointed at Lady Tiger and chanted in Angelic.
A single hissed syllable sent a dart of flame streaking in at the bleeding wizard. She dodged, but whatever spell she was attempting failed.
Two more unsteady wizards climbed out of the wreckage.
It was time to make herself scarce. “Father of winds, carry me into your domain. Air Rider.”
Lady Tiger shot into the air and raced south. A few seconds later she glanced behind her to find four wizards on her tail and closing.
There was no way she’d have time to open a portal with so many enemies so close behind her.
A lightning bolt streaked past, missing her by a foot.
She countered with a fireball that the pursuing wizards easily avoided. Snarling in annoyance, Lady Tiger wove a random path through the sky as she tried to think how to shake her pursuers.
One on one she could handle any of them, but four on one was more than she had any hope of defeating. She needed help and she knew exactly where to find it.
She twisted in the sky and flew toward the warehouses.
Father Salvador was going to attack early whether he liked it or not.
The thought had barely entered her mind when a wave of dark magic washed over her and sent her tumbling out of the sky.
A hastily cast Gust spell slowed her just enough that nothing broke when her feet hit the cement of the sidewalk. That didn’t stop it from hurting like hell.
She cast, “Flames of deepest crimson form a barrier to stop my enemies, Fire Wall!”
And not a moment too soon. A pair of energy blasts struck the wall and got burned away.
While she had a moment’s reprieve Lady Tiger studied the area. Unfortunately, she didn’t recognize anything. The local shops looked to be in too good a shape to be the slums, but they were also just run down enough not to be in the city center.
The warehouses had to be at least another mile south. How was she going to reach them with four Ministry wizards on her tail? Not through the air, that was certain.
The air! That was it.
She swirled her hands around, altering the wall of fire so it gave off thick, black smoke. Another gesture sent great clouds of it billowing in every direction.
Under the cover of her screen she turned south and ran.
As the smoke continued to spread, the frightened residents came pouring out of their homes and businesses, adding to the chaos. After a moment’s hesitation, Lady Tiger slipped off her mask and fell in with the crowd like another frightened civilian.
The trick wouldn’t keep them from finding her for long, but hopefully it would buy a minute or two and every second brought her closer to reinforcements. Granted the reinforcements would be just as happy to kill her as the wizards chasing her, but that couldn’t be helped.
She managed five blocks before one of her hunters realized the smoke was magical and not caused by something burning. Dark magic washed away her cover.
It was only her imagination, but Lady Tiger would have sworn they were staring at her.
A faint tingle of magic was the only warning she got before light magic chains wrapped her up tight. People ran in every direction when the magic manifested.
She had just space enough to draw a breath. “Dispel.”
Dark magic shattered the chains. The Ministry’s stated purpose was to protect the people. Time to see if they meant it.
Lady Tiger focused on the largest group of fleeing people. “Flames rage and consume. Fireball!”
A ball of flames twice the size of her head streaked toward the crowd. She ran the opposite way.
When she’d covered two blocks without a spell slamming into her, she slowed and caught her breath. Looked like she’d lost them for now.
Should she keep going toward the warehouses? Her heightened state of awareness saved her as she leapt aside just before a lightning bolt struck where she’d been standing.
Yeah, best keep going toward the warehouses. She hurled a stream of fire toward the source of the attack without aiming.
The neighborhood was becoming familiar. It wouldn’t be long now before she reached help.
A chunk of the building beside her exploded, showering her with razor-sharp shards of stone. She winced as several tore into her face and arms.
Finally she stumbled into the yard in front of the warehouses.
No time to waste. She targeted Salvador’s building. “Flames rage and consume. Fireball!”
The spell smashed through one of the boarded-up windows and exploded.
A pair of Ministry wizards landed on either side of her. The older of the two, her hair streaked with gray, and sporting a burn mark on her cheek said, “Surrender the artifact and come quietly. There’s nowhere left for you to run.”
Her head exploded in a shower of gore, spattering Lady Tiger with brains and blood.
Like bees from a kicked hive, soldiers boiled out of two of the warehouses.
The second Ministry wizard threw up a desperate hand and the bullets swerved around her.
Lady Tiger took advantage of the distraction to leap into the air. She needed to find a quiet place to open a portal and escape.
She’d barely gotten into the air when a horrendous, burning pain exploded in her right shoulder. She wobbled in the air and fell, her concentration as broken as her arm.
The cement grew really close really fast.
If she didn’t focus she was going to crack her head open.
With a supreme effort of will she slowed her descent so that it only hurt a lot when she hit.
Lady Tiger rolled over on her back and grasped her bloody shoulder. What had hit her?
“Didn’t I warn you not to return?” Father Salvador stood over her, a single-shot rifle in his hand. He cracked the breech and a spent cartridge popped out. He dug another round out of his pocket and held it up so she could see it. “Do you recognize this?”
She squinted, but couldn’t make anything out. Tears made her vision blurry. Why didn’t he shut up and put her out of her misery?
“It’s a Death’s Head bullet. We got our hands on a whole box of them. It seems someone found them in a storage building of the former Dragon Empire.” He slid the cartridge into the breech and closed it. “The church paid a small fortune in gold for that box, but we take great pleasure in the irony of killing wizards with magic weapons.”
He cocked the hammer and raised the rifle.
Lady Tiger screamed and breathed flame.
The barrel jerked aside and fired, missing her by inches.
Father Salvador gave a pained shout as his shirt caught on fire. He dropped the gun and rolled around, but her will kept the flames burning.
Lady Tiger got to her feet and limped away. Maybe he’d die of his burns and maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, she intended to be long gone before he recovered.
Father Salvador writhed and screamed as Hell’s own fire burned his face and chest. Despite the pain he ground his chest against the dirt, hoping to suffocate the flames. The pain grew until he feared it might drive him mad.
Despite the agony and smell of his own roasting flesh, his mind remained clear. Or perhaps he was becoming delusional in response to the agony he was experiencing. Was this pain what the witches felt when they burned at the stake? Had he done something to displease God that he should be punished so?
Salvador had confessed all his sins before departing on this holy crusade so that couldn’t be it. Perhaps God sought to test his resolve by making him suffer under the witch’s spell. He was paying the price for allying with a friend of the Devil.
It all became clear to him in that moment. The heathen witch had led them all astray and now he paid for that mistake. Only her death would free him from this pain. Of course, she should have been dead already.
In his mind’s eye he saw it clearly. The cursed bullet passing through her skull and splattering her rotted brains on the ground. He’d been only an instant away from inflicting God’s justice on the wretched woman, but the moment of his triumph was snatched away by vile magic. Like the demon she truly was, the witch had breathed fire.
Never before had he seen a wizard channel magic, save through her hands. The gout of fire took him totally by surprise. His complete failure led directly to this suffering. He understood that now.
Dear God, if only you take these unholy flames away I swear on my eternal soul to hunt down the blasphemous witch and deliver your divine retribution.
A moment later God answered his prayer and the flames guttered and died. The Almighty had heard his prayer and accepted his devotion. A pact had formed between him and the Almighty. Father Salvador held no doubt that if he failed to slay the witch, his suffering would be eternal.
He forced himself to his knees before strong hands helped lift him to his feet. His eyelids had partially melted and fused together, and a pained howl escaped his lips when he forced them open. Two of his most loyal disciples supported him on either side.
“Father, we must get you to the doctor at once.”
“No!” He had no time to waste visiting a doctor. His divine mission would allow for no delays. “Send the order, the attack must begin before the heathens realize we’re coming.”
Father Salvador jerked his arms free, ignoring the pain and staggering towards the warehouse. “Ready the vans, we must attack immediately.”
Rather than leaping to obey, his subordinates looked at each other and then at him. “Are you certain, Father?” the younger asked. “Your flesh is badly blistered and I fear you may get an infection if it isn’t tended to at once.”
Did the boy dare question God’s divine intervention? Salvador was saved from Hell’s fire and this fool feared an infection. He drew the pistol at his waist and shot the doubter between the eyes. He collapsed before his weak faith could infect the rest of his divine soldiers.
The surviving acolyte stared at his dead companion. “What have you done?”
“His devotion was weak. We have no room for weaklings in the coming war. How is your faith, Brother Jeremiah?”
“Strong, Father.”
“Good. Now send the orders.” Salvador holstered his pistol and bent down to retrieve his fallen rifle. “Let the others burn down this city of heathens. We hunt God’s true prey.”
Father Salvador stalked out, following the trail of blood. The flame of his faith burned hotter than any demon fire. Soon his vision of the witch’s death would become reality and God would take his pain for good.
“The North American Alliance team is the winner!” Jemma said.
The last word still echoed in the stadium when Coach Chort came running in to check on the unconscious members of Conryu’s team. On the opposite side of the stadium, the Kingdom coach wasn’t far behind.
“Congratulations, Master. You maintained excellent control over the gale. I didn’t even sense the Reaper’s presence when you donned the cloak.”
That had surprised him as well. Usually the Reaper couldn’t shut up every time he wore the stupid thing. Maybe he had an important soul to claim and didn’t have time to bother Conryu.
“The Reaper can project his awareness to multiple places at once,” Prime said. “If he wished to speak to you, it wouldn’t matter what else was happening.”
“Great.” Conryu released the Reaper’s Cloak and walked over to join Coach Chort. “Are they okay?”
The truth was, he hadn’t gotten very close to his teammates despite the time they’d spent training together. As the only sophomore in the group, they all seemed to regard him as a sort of junior mascot. Not Crystal, but the others. It was weird given his proven abilities, but seniors had been looking down on sophomores since the dawn of school.
“A few bumps and bruises, but nothing that light magic healing won’t cure. In fact, if you don’t mind lending a hand we can probably get everyone sorted out in a few minutes.”
“Sure, but the only healing spell I know is Touch of the Goddess. It might be overkill in this situation.”
“Unless you’re too tired to cast it, a little overkill won’t hurt anything,” Coach said. “Caroline got the worst of it. Why don’t you start with her?”
Conryu shrugged and knelt beside the team captain. “The gentle light of Heaven washes away all wounds, Touch of the Goddess.”
Caroline sat up and rubbed her face. “What hit me?”
Crystal grinned. “I’m pretty sure it was a lightning bolt.”
&n
bsp; “Ugh! That explains it.” She ran a hand through her hair which was currently sticking straight out. “It’ll take me forever to tame this back down.”
Conryu didn’t like to judge, but worrying about her hair after they got their asses handed to them sounded kind of bad. He clamped his mouth shut and moved on to their fire wizard.
“You ought to see what Conryu hit the other guys with.” Crystal nodded toward the still-unmoving enemy team across the way.
“You mean we won?” Caroline asked, the disbelief in her voice forcing him to clamp his jaw tighter.
“You bet we did,” Crystal said. “Although it would probably be more accurate to say that Conryu won.”
Conryu wanted to correct Crystal’s assertion that he’d won on his own, but he couldn’t do it with a straight face. Unless something wildly unexpected happened tomorrow, he would probably be better off competing without the others. He couldn’t, since this was a team event, but facts were facts.
He placed a hand over Leslie’s face and cast his healing spell again. Conryu had plenty of energy left and they weren’t due to compete again until later this afternoon. A good meal and a nap would wash away any lingering fatigue.
The glow had barely formed when a massive explosion shook the stadium. Crackling energy walls appeared and enclosed the field. Heavy doors crashed down, sealing the tunnels.
Conryu sprang to his feet and looked around. “What’s going on?”
Coach Chort shook her head. “I have no idea.”
He glanced at Crystal and Caroline, but got only blanks looks in return.
The Kingdom coach left her motionless team and walked over to join them. “It’s the emergency security system. We designed it to keep an out-of-control spirit from escaping into the city.”
“But we didn’t summon any spirits,” Conryu said.
“The spell is triggered by any damage to the stadium. We never considered anything else being able to harm the building during a match.”
“Since it wasn’t a spirit, what did damage the stadium?” Crystal asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” the Kingdom coach said.
The Four Nations Tournament Page 12