by Drake Dalton
"I was the one who summoned her," Singh said, trying to puzzle it out.
"You summoned someone," I agreed. "And yet, that first zephyr never arrived, did it?"
"Are you saying that she let herself be captured?"
I smiled, then sharpened my vision to assess the changing possibilities on that battlefield. Satisfied, I pulled the sword to my body in a strong vertical, slid my left foot forward and prepared to attack. "Do yourself a favor. Step out of the way. Live to see another day."
The guards would die first.
They had no idea how fast and agile this seemingly massive sword would be.
"I think not," he said, flexing his fingers—preparing his saw blade spell. It was actually a variation of the dimensional zephyr summoning spell, but he wouldn't think I knew that.
"Excellent," I told him, sending energy through the hilt to magnetically charge the blade. "I'm not sure what I'd have done if you accepted. I really want to kill you, but chivalry demanded that I make the offer. Prepare yourself, Lord Singh. If you know any gods, now's a good time to wake them up and tell them you're on your way."
The guard on my left moved first.
I sprang forward, advancing the blade and closing the distance as he clawed for his pistol. The other guard was only a second behind as bullets began to fly—most missing from poor shooting and the rest deflected by the field around the cleaving blade—but something dark and murky began to form between Singh's hands, as well.
"Die!" he shouted, releasing the black cloud as I approached the steps.
Singh watched it streak away, his eyes lit by a fanatical fire and his face contorted in a hideous grin, but then he fell to disbelief as I twisted the energy flowing through my palms, rippling the sword's magnetic field and defeating his attack.
Striking right, I knocked the cloud harmlessly to the side, then rode the sword's recoil to the left to take the guard's head. Continuing my spin, I took the other guard's head a moment later as the sword finished a complete rotation, then lunged up the short flight of steps and planted her tip in the center of Singh's chest before the battlefield rookie had the chance to recover from his disbelief. My momentum did the rest, driving the blade through to her hilt—and skewering the messenger behind him, as well.
"Always have a backup plan," I told Singh.
He crumpled to his knees.
The light faded from his eyes.
By my count, four seconds had passed.
It was not the quickest victory that I'd ever earned, but it was close. Sadly, I soon learned that the fighting was far from done.
"How long is not long?" Julie demanded sweetly.
The true battle had only just begun.
#
"Well, um... Miss Nybolt. I guess this is where we say good-bye."
It was the following night.
True to my word, I'd brought Julie home.
We strolled in the cool air on the beach at Crissy Field. In the strait behind us, the light of the full moon shined down upon a cargo ship piled high with truck-sized containers as it slipped silently beneath the Golden Gate bridge, while the white walls of the retired penitentiary glowed on the black waters from Alcatraz Island to our left. There was no mistake that this was our world, not with the skyscrapers poking up from beyond the lit dome of the Palace of Fine Arts off to the right, as well as the bright city glow behind it.
I'd kept my word, but she remained unsatisfied.
"I still don't understand why you said we couldn't do anything for them," she told me.
She spoke of the slaves, of course.
After I'd told her about the people to the south of the mansion and that they were likely the slaves Singh mentioned—not the army that I first feared—she'd been on a one-woman crusade to champion their cause. I'd been against it, of course, and not just because I was still pouting about a sword that she wouldn't let me keep because she claimed it would draw the wrong kind of attention from the cops, even in a city that had seen as many odd sights as this Earth's San Francisco.
"We were on a tight schedule," I reminded her. "The moon only goes full once a month."
"Couldn't we have taken them with us?"
Actually, we could have done that, but that may have had huge consequences. Doubtful or not, one of the slaves might have been fated to save their world.
"Look," I said, instead. "I can't fight everyone alone."
"Then don't!"
"What do you mean, don't? It's not like I have a choice. Do you see an army at my back? Besides, every world has wrongs to be righted. That doesn't mean it's our job to do it. In case you've forgotten, we don't belong on that world. If we messed with events, we'd be no better than those renegade Druids."
"If we can get there, we belong there," she argued.
"That's not the way it works. I can go anywhere, including—for example—the ladies locker room. That doesn't mean I belong there, does it?"
I was hoping to make a point, but she just looked at me, her green eyes shining in the moonlight and her red hair practically blazing with fire as she changed tactics, moving in for the kill.
"You're not who you claim to be."
"I've never claimed to be anything."
"I wonder about that," she said. "How many other worlds are there, anyway?"
"I wouldn't know, I'm sure."
"I wonder about that, too. Did I ever tell you I can spot a liar? It's an occupational hazard, but I'm beginning to suspect there are occupations out there that are more fulfilling than mine."
Clueless as I was of the events to come, I nevertheless felt my first hint of unease.
For someone who'd just found a way back to her own reality, she was in no hurry to find a cab. Why hadn't she left? Why was she walking me along the beach? She was scheming something. That uneasy feeling began to whisper that it might be time for me to find myself somewhere else, but I wasn't quick enough.
"I wouldn't know about that, either, but best of luck with the job search."
"Not so fast," she said as I turned to leave.
In an instant, she'd slid her arm through my elbow and held me tight, continuing to walk me casually through the moonlight.
"You're not of the hook just yet," she said. "I believe we have promises to discuss, you and I."
"Oh, really? What promises? I did as I said. I got you home, didn't I?"
"Actually, that was implied. You promised that if I objected one more time, I'd get to start my training from Day One. You also promised that I'd get a crack at the next pit of vipers. Those are promises that I intend for you to keep. You've said all along that you're a man of your word. So, who are you, Mister Masters? Are you the man of your word that you claim to be, or not?"
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
"Unfortunately, meanings can be misinterpreted," she said with an oddly reflective smile. "We can only rely on the word as spoken or written... or have you decided that it's now okay for The Word to change, after all?"
I sputtered, but nothing coherent came out.
I hated having my own arguments used against me.
She saw and couldn't help the smile—a wide smile: the cat that ate the canary.
"No promises," I finally said.
"Oh good," she exclaimed, toying with me like a little girl. "Now come the negotiations! I'm ever so good at negotiations. Let's go back to my place and have a drink. As I said, we have much to discuss, Mister I-Never-Claimed-to-be-Anything Masters."
"No promises," I repeated, but she only laughed.
She had me, but it was my own fault. I'd known she was trouble from the moment we met. Some women were like that—they couldn't help it. I'd underestimated this one because of her looks; but stealing a peek at that determined face as she steered me though the moonlight—fully intent upon getting her way—I came to understand that trouble was not a thing that Julie Nybolt ever accidentally stumbled into. She chose it, as did I. Looks or no looks, she did exactly what she set out to do... a
one-woman crusade with a big heart that was definitely in the right place.
Cardboard construct?
Snooty Ice Queen?
Not hardly.
I dropped my hand across the fingers that held my arm. She smiled, laying her head on my shoulder.
As she said, we had much to discuss.
Perhaps I wasn't quite so alone, after all.
* * *
Other Books by Drake Dalton
Century KO
Spirit Shard
Spirit Forge
Spirit Quest
Spirit Warrior
Century Reborn*
* - Coming Soon
License Notes
Copyright 2017 Drake Dalton
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Knight: Rudall30 | Dreamstime.com
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