Wander_A Night Warden Novel

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  In addition to the runes, the door itself was made of a tungsten-titanium tempered alloy, treated to be magically resistant before the runes were etched into it.

  “We could detonate a nuclear weapon on top of that door. There’s a good chance it’ll be the only thing standing after the explosion,” I said, reluctant to consider the other possibility.

  “There’s a way.” Koda looked at me, and I shook my head.

  “No way,” I said. “We don’t know what kind of traps are on that thing besides the nastiness we can see. There could be plenty we don’t see.”

  “What did this level contain?” Tristan asked, pulling out the plans. He smoothed them on the floor and pointed to the area where we stood. “This level is self-contained.”

  “This was the armory and artifact storehouse,” I said, still giving Koda the stink-eye. “Inner Armory and Outer Armory—Rare weapons, weapons of unknown origin, and artifacts we studied were kept on this level. There was also a twenty-four-hour Warden Guard, two stationed outside the door and two inside.”

  “That would explain the runes and the door.” He rubbed his chin. “Are the weapons and artifacts still contained here?”

  “No, after the Purge and before the destruction of Shadow Helm, the contents of this level were sent to the Cloisters for safekeeping in their archive.”

  The magic on this level gave off a high-pitched tone. It was a sound I associated with refined, elevated, and dangerous magic. The ambient magic in The Cloisters gave off a similar tone.

  Tristan checked the plans several times. “I can’t see a way to get in, at least not from these,” he said with a sigh. “I’m open to suggestions. Any spell I can think of would just bounce off that door. What is this way you were mentioning?”

  “I can get past this door,” Koda stated with certainty. “I can see how the runes interlock. I know how to get around them.”

  “That’s all well and good,” Tristan said. “Even I can see how they’re joined. The problem is setting off the traps that will make quick work of you.”

  “She’s a cipher,” I answered. “The door won’t see her.”

  “Ciphers don’t exist, Stryder.” He turned and looked at Koda. “Everything has to have an energy signature…”

  The stunned look on his face was priceless. He narrowed his eyes at her and nodded.

  “I didn’t believe it at first, either.”

  “The energy she exhibits is from her weapons,” he said in analytical mode. “She, however, is a void—no energy signature whatsoever. How is this possible?”

  “Good genes.” Koda flicked her wrists, materializing her fans. “Stryder, let me do what I do best.”

  “How about I unleash a bolt at the door?” Frank said with a twitch of his tail. “I can pack quite a blast of energy if I unleash it all.”

  “And fry us all in the process.” I shook my head. “Thanks, Frank, but I’m not in the mood to be barbecued today.”

  “I’ll be careful, Stryder,” Koda said, handing me her fans. “Just in case the door picks them up—that would be bad.”

  “You feel anything go sideways, you get out before it’s too late, understand?”

  She nodded. “I may need some room, though.” She motioned us back. “Can you guys go over there?”

  The fans felt heavy in my hand. If she died, it would be because I allowed it. We backed up to the stairwell just to be safe. She approached the door and I winced, expecting her to be ghosted right there and then. She sat in front of the door and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. I put the fans in my pocket.

  That’s when I heard the roar. I looked down at Frank.

  “Fried their tiny little brains?” I looked up the stairs and then at Tristan, who nodded at me. “That doesn’t sound very fried to me.”

  “Maybe the second one didn’t get a big enough jolt?”

  “Frank, you stay with Koda,” I said, pointing at her. “You fry anything that comes down these stairs that isn’t us. We’re going to check out the troll whose brain you supposedly fried.”

  I saw Frank go stand behind Koda. He squared off, waved his tail, and faced the stairwell. He was eight inches of barely-contained menace. I nodded to him as Tristan and I climbed the stairs.

  “Have you ever faced a troll?” Tristan asked as we reached the second level door. “One that wasn’t fried, I mean.”

  “Ogres and Redrum ogres, yes.” I opened the door a crack. “Trolls—haven’t had the pleasure, no.”

  “It stands to reason that this is a Redrum troll,” he said and gestured. I felt the power surge wash over me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, wary. “This isn’t a dragon, it’s a troll. That spell is worse than the entropic vortex.”

  “It’s not dark, even if it feels that way.” He grabbed the pendant around his neck with his opposite hand. “This will remove most of the troll’s magic resistance, but I’ll need to use this as a power source. I hope you’re packing some serious firepower in that thing. My casting will be limited after this spell.”

  “We still have to face Quinton and Lyrra.” I checked Fatebringer to make sure I had enough negation rounds in the cylinder.

  “We won’t be facing anyone if an angry troll rips us to bits.”

  “I’m running low on ammo, thanks to the rummers.”

  “I suggest you make every shot count.”

  “Will do.” I stepped back and raised Fatebringer. “Hit him with your spell. I’ll put him down.”

  Tristan pulled open the door and unleashed a barrage of orbs as he ran into the room. The troll turned at the sound of the door. The orbs crashed into its chest with little kinetic force. I followed as the troll raced at us. I slid to the side and fired as the troll cratered the floor with a fist where I’d been standing a second earlier.

  It rushed at me, and I fired again. I leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding a kick designed to break me.

  “Your stupid weapons have no effect on me, wizard—just like his magic is useless,” the troll said and attempted to close the distance. “I’m going to break you.”

  “Are you sure you lowered its defenses?” I asked as I twisted around a fist the size of my head. “He still seems pretty resistant.”

  “There might be a delay.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out another handkerchief. “This should speed things along.”

  “What? You’re going to wipe away its sweat?”

  He ignored me as I ducked under a haymaker and right into a knee strike. I managed to pull the duster in front my body, which took the brunt of the impact. I landed across the floor with the wind knocked out of me. I felt the tremor of the troll approaching and tried to get up. Spots danced before my eyes, and I slipped to one knee as the troll screamed.

  He turned and faced Tristan, now the greater threat. I saw Tristan gesture as he threw something at the troll. The troll clutched at his eyes with a bellow that made me wince.

  Nails were embedded in each of its eyes as it raced at Tristan. “Now, Stryder!” he yelled.

  I got on both knees, steadied my arm, and fired, emptying the cylinder. The troll burst into flame as runes floated around its body. I looked at Fatebringer, perplexed. The next second, I was being dragged into the stairwell. Tristan slammed the door as the troll exploded. Nails buried themselves in the door and walls.

  “I thought you couldn’t cast?”

  “The dampeners in this place limit my ability, they don’t strip it.” He started walking downstairs. “Let’s see if your partner has made any progress.”

  I opened the door to the second level slightly. Troll parts littered the floor. I ripped off the sleeve from one of the troll arms and grabbed a bunch of the nails that peppered the wall and door. I wrapped them tightly and put them in a pocket.

  “Stryder, get down here!” I heard the panic in Frank’s voice and rushed downstairs. “I don’t know what happened. One moment she’s fine, the next she’s gone.”

  Koda’s prone body
greeted me as I reached the third level.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  “DID SHE SAY anything?” I gently turned Koda over. “What happened?”

  “She unlocked the door, and then said something about setting off a trigger.” Frank flicked his tail from side to side. “She sounded scared—really scared. Then she froze up and fell on her face. Is she still, you know, breathing?”

  Tristan crouched next to her body. “I’m not a medic, but I know some field medicine.”

  I moved back and let him examine her. Her breathing was shallow but steady.

  “Do what you can to get her stable.” I scooped up Frank and stepped back. “It’s too dangerous here for her. I need you to get her out.”

  “What do you mean ‘get her out’?’” Frank stared at me and twitched his tail. “We’re three levels down in this place.”

  “Frank,” I said, “how long have we known each other?”

  “Too damn long,” he growled.

  “Then you know better than to try and bullshit me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking. The trip alone could kill her.”

  “If she stays here, it’s a guarantee.” I looked over to where Koda lay. “Once Lyrra finds out she’s a cipher, she’ll ghost her.”

  “What about you?” he asked. “You plan on taking psycho-bitch Lyrra, Quinton, and whatever assorted insanity she has in there on your own with the GQ mage?”

  “I still have a few cards to play,” I said. “He’s not half-bad. Just doesn’t know how to dress for battle.”

  “Maybe he thinks it’s tea time?” Frank said. “Brits always think it’s tea time.”

  “You do realize I can hear you?” Tristan said and walked over. “I did the best I could. She’s stable, but because of her unique condition, I can’t assess what runic damage she sustained. I would strongly urge she be taken to Haven.”

  “You heard the man.” I walked over to where Koda lay and placed Frank next to her. “Get her to Rox. She’ll know what to do.”

  “Grey,” Frank said, staring up at me, “this card you have to play—is it sword shaped?”

  “No,” I lied. “I can still cast.”

  “Now who’s trying to bullshit who?” Frank said and looked at Tristan. “You erase psycho-bitch and her pet ogre. Put them down like a pair of rabid dogs.”

  “Understood,” Tristan said, his voice grim.

  “One more thing, Montague.” Frank stood on his hind legs and leaned forward. “You see Grey lose his shit and go psycho, you put him down too.”

  Tristan didn’t answer, but he stepped back with a nod. I made a fist and extended it to Frank—who fist-bumped me back.

  “Get her safe. Tell Rox about her being a cipher, she’ll know what to do.”

  “You ghost these fuckers and get your ass to The Dive, Grey, or I swear I’ll come kill you myself,” Frank said and twitched his tail. “Now move the hell back, both of you, so I can do this.”

  I stepped back to the stairwell and was joined a second later by Tristan. Frank spread out his legs and muttered some words under his breath. I saw a ring of energy form around him and Koda.

  Electrical energy crackled and arced off his body. I felt the waves of heat fill the space. I heard Frank yell something unintelligible, and a lightning bolt struck them both. The thunderclap that followed was deafening, followed by the sweet pungent smell of ozone.

  They were gone.

  “That is one scary dragon,” Tristan examined the door. “She disabled all of the traps, and the door is unlocked.”

  “Only one thing left to do.” I emptied the cylinder in Fatebringer and replaced the negation rounds with a speed loader. I was down to two loaders of negation and one of entropy. After that I would have to throw Fatebringer at someone.

  “Stryder…” He rested a hand on my shoulder. “Are you planning on using the sword?”

  “I plan on walking away from this.” I turned to face him. “What about you? You plan to die here? You going to let her ghost you and continue killing innocent people, just so she can fulfill some twisted vision of the Night Wardens?”

  “If the sword turns you—”

  “I told you, if I go ‘full dark mage, take-over-the-world-mental,’ you better make sure you put me down,” I said and took a deep breath. “Trust me, I’d do the same for you.”

  I pushed open the door and the level exploded.

  THIRTY-NINE

  “STILL ALIVE?” I heard Quinton’s voice. “Good. I was hoping you weren’t going to make this easy.” He was on the other side of the floor, standing in front of the door that led to the inner armory.

  I looked at the debris I lay in. Half the wall was missing. The door, however, was intact.

  “Tristan?” I called out looking around for him. I saw his body slumped against the wall. For a split-second, I thought I was going to have a violent conversation with Rox about his demise. He coughed and got to his feet, using the wall as support. I have to admit, I breathed easier when I saw him move. He didn’t look happy about the tears in his suit, which brought a tight smile to my lips.

  “Bollocks.” He looked down at his ruined jacket. “It’s completely ruined.”

  “How’s the Zegna Bespoke holding up?”

  “It isn’t,” he said. “Between the rummers and now this, it’s ruined.” He took off the jacket and tossed it to one side.

  “I’ll get you a duster and then you can look like that awesome wizard in Chicago—what’s his name?” I asked, snapping my fingers. “Larry? Barry? Anyway, the one with a beast of a dog with a cute name. He’s just like you, goes around destroying the city. Must be a wizard thing.”

  He glared at me. “I already have a beast,” he said, upset. “He and his creature are a handful, thank you very much—and don’t call me a wizard.”

  We stood in the outer armory. The floor was roughly the same size as the training level above us. Along the walls, I saw rows of triple bunk beds with red runes inscribed along their sides. Each bed held a body with an IV bag attached. They all appeared to be in stasis. I counted several hundred beds easily.

  “Looks like we found where the rummers are being made.” I drew Fatebringer and motioned to the beds. Tristan looked at the setup and clenched his fists.

  “Bloody hell,” he said. “They’re all homeless people.”

  I nodded and looked across at Quinton, who was laughing.

  “You’ve come to save the trash, Dragonfly?” He drew his guns. I could see the runes come to life from where I stood. “I told Lyrra you’d never come to our side. Too caught up in standing for the forgotten.”

  “Guns and casting,” I said under my breath. “Don’t get hit by those bullets. His guns are runed. The rounds will erase both you and your magic.”

  “Erasure rounds?”

  “More like eraser rounds, but yes, nasty.” I kept an eye on the rummer beds as I angled for cover. “He calls them magekillers. This would be a good time to cast a shield, if you can.”

  Quinton wore black combat armor with thigh holsters to hold his cannons. Subtlety was never his strong point. He counted on surprise and intimidation, which usually worked, unless his target didn’t care and was ready for his attacks. If that was the case, he was just a large target.

  I fired Fatebringer and missed.

  I leaped for cover behind one of the medicine cases and examined Fatebringer. His handcannon punched a hole in the wall next to me.

  “What’s the matter?” he yelled. “Did the famous Dragonfly miss? I should’ve ghosted you years ago, after you were blacklisted.”

  I couldn’t comprehend how I missed. My gun was in perfect working order, which meant he was using some kind of distortion field to deflect my rounds.

  Tristan gestured and threw up a shield. I could see it was a struggle for him to cast. Quinton fired and blew several holes in the shield as Tristan rolled forward. He ended up a few feet away, behind a large storage container.

  “I’m open to s
uggestions. My casting is being affected by dampeners.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead as I slid over Fatebringer.

  “You want me to shoot him?” He held up the gun and looked at me with an ‘are you serious?’ look. “Didn’t you just miss?”

  “No, can you make out the runes?”

  He narrowed his eyes and examined Fatebringer. “Yes, this is some intricate rune work.”

  “Do you see it?” I asked. “The unraveling?”

  He shook his head at first and then looked closer. After a few seconds, he nodded and slid Fatebringer back. “I see it, but I can’t cast this,” he said, looking at me. “This requires a dark mage.”

  “I know.” I sighed and braced myself. “It’s an obscure dark spell. I need you to boost my spell when I target his guns.”

  “Can you do it?” he asked, concerned. “You’re looking a little worn.”

  “Don’t see much of a choice,” I said and began the gestures. The pain was immediate. An icepick of black agony shoved itself into the side of my head and twisted. I bit down on my tongue until I tasted blood to keep from crying out. The pain blinded me for a few seconds, but I continued the casting. “When I release the orb, you hit it with the unraveling—I’ll do the rest.”

  My vision returned, and I saw the hazy black orb forming in my hand. This time I was causing the foghorn of death. If I did this right, the orb would undo not just Quinton’s guns, but Quinton himself. I may have forgotten to explain that part of the spell to Tristan.

  I whispered a word of power over the orb and let it go. It hovered in front of me for a few seconds. I felt the boost of runic energy from Tristan and whispered the instruction as the orb sped away, aimed at Quinton.

  “What is this pitiful spell?” He fired at the orb, which split in two. The rounds passed through the orbs, leaving them untouched. They cut through the distortion field and latched onto his handcannons, staying there despite his efforts to shake them off. They moved fast.

  In seconds, both guns were in pieces on the floor. I stepped away from the medicine case. “The original name of the spell has been lost to time,” I said, closing the distance with Tristan next to me. “I can tell you what it’s called now.”