We Three Heroes

by Lynette Noni

  Before he could say—or do—more, a Meyarin blurred into their hidden alley, eyes unfocused and sword raised. Jordan transcended in an instant, leaping forwards to confuse the immortal, while both Bear and D.C. jumped into action without a second thought. D.C. dived towards the Meyarin’s legs, while Bear went straight for his sword arm to keep any of them from being impaled. But there was no need, since the invisible collision from Jordan was enough to have the Meyarin activate the Valispath again and disappear, apparently preferring encounters that didn’t require him shaking off two humans and a ghost.

  “That was… unexpected,” D.C. said, panting lightly as she stood and dusted herself off.

  “Let’s just be thankful that he didn’t take us along for the ride,” Jordan said.

  “Or bother with killing us first,” Bear pointed out, somehow managing to inject dryness into his tone despite the massacre occurring all around them.

  He glanced down at the shadowy blade in his hand—a blade that he’d been barely an inch away from stabbing into the Meyarin—and then looked at D.C., who was still brushing grime from her clothes. If they were to survive another attack, Bear knew they all needed to have weapons, regardless of how ineffective they might be against the immortal race.

  Jordan’s transcendence gift would have to be enough for him, but Bear spotted something metallic wedged against a wall of the alley and rushed over to scoop it up. Turning it over in his hands, he discovered that it was a solid scrap of metal. It was heavy, but that meant it would be not just an effective shield, but also useful as a battering weapon.

  He looked to D.C. as he held both the metal and the dagger out and said, “Which do you want?”

  She glanced between the two, reaching tentatively for the shield. An indelicate grunting noise left her as she felt its weight, and she swiftly passed it back to Bear, saying, “I clearly need to do more strength training.”

  Bear mustered up a grin and handed the dagger to her, the blade much lighter and easier to wield than the metallic slab. D.C. was only Gamma-rated in Combat, but Bear had no doubt that she’d be able to hold her own in another fight—Karter’s strict training would make sure of it.

  Despite that, none of them said what they were thinking—that they were in real trouble. And as they edged out to watch the ongoing battle once more, Bear knew it was only a matter of time before their hiding spot was discovered again.

  Part of him wanted to run out into the square, to join his dad and the other humans—including Jeera, who he could see leading her own unit of Wardens—and fight openly with them against the Meyarins. But he also was wise enough to know that the human militia, while still helpless against the might of the immortals, had come armed to the teeth with weapons. Together with the Shadow Walkers and Dayriders, they were working as a team to offer distractions to the Meyarins—distractions that the two other mortal races took advantage of, swooping in with their Shadow-infused blades and lightning spears to eliminate the immortal threats.

  Bear was overwhelmed by what he was seeing. By what he was hearing. By what he was experiencing. He knew that if he and his friends so much as tried to run out into the square without Jordan having the energy to cover all three of them, they’d barely make it a handful of steps with their meagre shield and dagger as their only protection.

  Taking in his friends’ grim faces, Bear knew they felt the same—that they wanted to be out there helping but also understood the reality of their situation. Running headfirst into the warring races would only result in one outcome: a swift death.

  “We have to wait,” Jordan said, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “If a safe path opens, we’ll make our way to your dad, steal some proper weapons and join the battle. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” D.C. said. Her face was pale as she watched the gruesome scene, but her body was coiled and ready to run as soon as a path became clear.

  Bear simply nodded his agreement, hoping and praying that an opportunity would arise soon.

  Together, they waited.

  … And waited.

  … And waited.

  Nothing changed—if anything, rather than tiring and falling back, the fighting turned even more savage and bloodthirsty as the minutes crawled by. Bear’s stomach churned with each sword stab he witnessed, at the sight of the silver, red, black and white blood spraying from wounds grisly enough that he was glad to have skipped breakfast that morning, since it would have made a reappearance right there in the alleyway.

  Bear had lost sight of his dad an indeterminate amount of time ago, and he’d been desperately trying to find him again with no luck. There were just too many people; too much happening. Especially with the gifted humans added to the mix—both Aven’s Claimed humans and the Wardens who were not without their own surprises.

  It was a struggle to know where to look, but Bear was still searching, searching, searching.

  And that was how he caught sight of something unexpected. Someone unexpected.

  “Is that Alex?” he gasped, pointing across the square.

  It was her, he was sure of it, despite the armour she wore that made her look like a Meyarin. She was fighting her way through the masses, her magical sword leaving a trail of blue flame as she thrust it towards all those in her path. Soraya was at her side, appearing and disappearing in clouds of lightning-strewn darkness as she attacked anyone who dared try and strike down her mistress. All around the two of them were other Meyarins, only one of whom seemed to be fighting with Alex. He was facing the other way, protecting Alex’s flank, but from what little Bear could see of his form, he didn’t look like Zain or any of the other immortals Alex was close to. There was something familiar about him, though, even if all Bear could tell for certain was that he must have been one of those who had escaped Meya before Aven took over the city.

  “We need to get her attention,” D.C. said, jolting slightly as she watched Alex slash the legs of three different Meyarins within the space of a blink. “If we can get her over here, she’ll be able to clear a path for us so we can find William and get some weapons.”

  While not wanting to break into Alex’s battle concentration, Bear knew it was a risk worth taking—especially if it would allow them to hunt down his dad and join the fight. So on the count of three, he, Jordan and D.C. all yelled, “Alex!”

  Their timing was unfortunate since her name left their lips and caught her heightened hearing just as a Meyarin swung his blade at her—a blade that she very nearly failed to duck in time due to their distraction. But she fended him off and as soon as she was clear, she whirled around, her eyes searching frantically until her gaze landed on the three of them waving at her from the alleyway.

  Only—as her eyes came to them, so did the eyes of others. And while Bear, Jordan and D.C.’s call had been successful since Alex was now cleaving a path towards them, within a fraction of a second, two Meyarins blurred into the alleyway, weapons drawn.

  Just like with the first one who had found them, Bear and his friends didn’t hesitate; they jumped right into action, with Jordan bursting in and out of transcendence to disorient the immortals, D.C. stabbing and slashing low with the Shadow Dagger, and Bear slamming his shield down on them and blocking their jarring sword thrusts, the pain of each blow sending him staggering.

  Their speed and strength—it was an effort just to defend against them, something Bear knew they wouldn’t have managed at all if it hadn’t been three against two. But even with the odds in their favour, Bear knew there was no way he, Jordan and D.C. would have held up against the two Meyarins for much longer if the blood-covered Alex hadn’t arrived at their sides, panting and demanding, “What are you doing here?”

  None of them were in a position to answer her right away, fighting for their lives as they were, but then she jumped into the fray and within seconds the two Meyarins were stumble-running away from them and back out into the crush of warring bodies.

  Their departure offered a moment of respite, during which time the four puf
fing friends looked at each other with pale faces and wide eyes. Alex in particular was staring at them, waiting for an answer.

  “We asked Caspar Lennox to bring us back,” D.C. said, her voice shaking as her eyes flicked back to the bloody battle taking place. She then went on to give a vague explanation and shared that they’d been separated from the Shadow Walker soon after arrival, finishing with a croaky-sounding, “We only wanted to help.”

  Bear closed his eyes, feeling those five words deep in his soul. They’d wanted to help—and look where that had left them. Even now, they were all but useless, left with no choice but to hide in the shadows. While they never could have anticipated Aven’s attack on Graevale that morning, they still should have come prepared for anything. They should have brought their own weapons, Bubbler vials, even ComTCDs—anything would have been better than the nothing they’d arrived with.

  He struggled to read the emotions that were flashing across Alex’s features. She looked torn between being worried about them and relieved to see them. Despite her immortal skills that enabled her to be much better equipped to survive the fighting, Bear wondered if she found comfort in having them there, since she wouldn’t have to carry the burden of being the only one to witness the harsh realities of the battle.

  Before he could reach out and ask if she was okay—mentally and physically, since she was covered in blood—she spun around and met the swords of two more Meyarins, the swiftness of her unhesitating defence causing Bear to draw in a sharp breath of surprise.

  While she clearly didn’t need any help, Bear, Jordan and D.C. all rushed forward to assist her in beating them back. They mostly offered a distraction as Alex smoothly dispatched them. One was knocked out cold from the pommel of Alex’s weapon, and the other, after being stabbed in the shoulder by her fiery blade, was sent flying back into the square by a solid kick to his abdomen from her leathery boot.

  Before anyone could say anything—and before they could be set upon by any more attackers—Alex turned to them with wide eyes and said, “Come on, we need to—”

  “There you are!”

  Bear whirled around to find Caspar Lennox fighting his way towards them, his voice carrying over the clashing steal and war cries. He was a sight to behold, with his Shadow Cloak ripped in places and almost as much blood covering him as Alex. He was only feet from the entrance to the alley when a Meyarin engaged him, causing him to vanish like smoke, appearing and disappearing as his Shadow Sword met the immortal’s weapon over and again.

  Before Bear and his friends could run out and help, three Meyarins arrived in the alley on the Valispath and lunged towards them. Slashing, parrying, shielding and dodging, he, Jordan, D.C. and Alex were joined by Caspar Lennox once he defeated his quarry, the Shadow Walker helping them to overpower their three newest attackers.

  “You four,” Caspar Lennox said, not questioning how Alex had come to be with them. “Time to go. This is not your fight.”

  The Shadow Walker didn’t waste words berating them for leaving the Obscuria, despite his clear order to stay put. Perhaps he knew that with Aven still standing at the top of the stairs, their fate would have been sealed if they’d remained inside the cathedral. Out here, at least, they had the possibility of survival.

  “It’s everyone’s fight,” D.C. argued, still in princess mode and willing to do whatever she could to protect those who needed protecting.

  “There is only death for you here,” Caspar Lennox replied grimly.

  Without giving them any option, he clamped his hands around D.C. and Jordan’s arms, the shadows rising around them before they vanished from sight.

  Knowing that they had a few moments before the professor would return, Bear said to Alex, “He can only travel with two people at a time.” His gaze looked past her and out across the square again as he added, “He won’t be gone long, so if you don’t want to get stuck going back to the academy, then—”

  He broke off suddenly as his eyes finally—finally—landed on his dad again. But what he saw had the blood draining from his face, because William wasn’t fighting side by side with his unit of Wardens anymore. Instead, he was alone—and facing off against the telekinetic Calista Maine and the tattooed menace Alex had once named Gerald Togen. Calista had William held immobile off the ground—something she’d once done to Bear himself—and Gerald was swinging bladed whips—tattooed whips, the ink flowing from his very skin—in lazy circles.

  Heedless of his own safety, Bear charged forward, intent on reaching William no matter what it took. But before he could close the distance between them, Alex’s arms wrapped around his middle like bands of steel, keeping him from leaving the safety of the alleyway.

  “Bear!” she cried. “Stop!”

  He struggled against her, fighting with everything he had to get free of her grip. “Dad!” he yelled, his voice hoarse with fear. “Dad!”

  Gerald’s lips were moving, but Bear had no idea what the man was saying. All he knew was that his dad was in danger—and he needed help.

  “Dad!” he cried again, even knowing he was too far away for William to hear.

  Bear craned his neck and saw Alex looking past his shoulder, her arms still holding him hostage as she took in the scene unfolding between his dad, Calista and Gerald.

  “We have to do something!” Bear said, feeling sick to his stomach as Gerald continued to swing his bladed whips. “Let me go, Alex! We have to—”

  He didn’t need to say more before Alex released him, having reached the same conclusion that William needed them. “Come on!” she said, grabbing his hand and sprinting forward.

  They made it three steps before Bear stumbled to a gasping halt.

  And that was because, as he watched, Gerald swung his arm back and then forward, his bladed whips snaking through the air… and slashing across William’s torso.

  Blood sprayed—no, gushed—from the wound, and Bear knew deep inside that he was too late. He was too far away. Even if he had access to the Valispath, he would never reach William in time.

  He screamed for his dad, the anguished sound like nothing he’d ever heard leave his lips. It somehow rose above the clamour of the battle, enough to reach William’s ears. Trapped by Calista’s grip, he could only turn his neck, his pain-filled eyes latching onto Bear’s.

  The emotion that shone in his dad’s gaze, it was like a dagger to Bear’s heart. And when William mouthed ‘I love you’ right before Gerald’s whips slashed forward again, that daggered feeling only grew as sheer terror overwhelmed Bear. He couldn’t look away—he couldn’t stop watching.

  I love you.

  I love you.

  I love you.

  Gerald’s tattoos met their mark, slicing deep into William’s neck.

  Too deep.

  And then William’s eyes, still locked on Bear, lost focus as the light left them and he breathed his last.

  “DAD!” Bear roared, as agony—blinding agony—washed over him.

  Alex reached for him, as if fearing he would run further into the battle, perhaps take vengeance against those who had just—had just—

  He couldn’t even think about what had just happened. He couldn’t bear the sight of William being lowered to the ground by Calista.

  As his dad disappeared amongst the masses of still-fighting bodies, Bear couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He collapsed to his knees, right there at the overhanging entrance to the alleyway.

  His dad… His dad was…

  He was dead.

  Dead.

  Bear couldn’t draw breath into his lungs. He felt Alex’s arms around him, not to hold him back, but to comfort him. He was shaking violently enough that his bones were all but jolting, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help anything.

  He knew they had to move—knew they were in danger still. But he was numb. Alex had tears streaming down her cheeks, but Bear couldn’t even manage that. What he felt inside—there was no outward reaction strong enough to reveal the depths of his pa
in. The sight of his dad mouthing those three words kept replaying in his mind, followed by the vision of the light fading from his eyes. Bear knew that what he’d seen would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  But that life wouldn’t last much longer if he didn’t get up, didn’t keep fighting to stay alive. That’s what William would have wanted—for Bear to survive.

  He had to pull it together. His dad would never have wanted him to give up. But just as he was ready to try and rise again, Alex yelled for Soraya, and in a flash of light and dark, the Shadow Wolf arrived at their sides.

  “Get him out of here!” Alex commanded the wolf.

  Before Bear could object, before he could utter an argument that he barely had the strength to offer, lighting-shadows surrounded him as Soraya whisked his numb self away from the battle, delivering him straight to his dorm room where Jordan and D.C. were waiting.

  Still kneeling, Bear didn’t move, didn’t raise his head, not even when the wolf gave him a soft nudge and offered a sad, knowing whine before she disappeared again.

  He didn’t move—because he couldn’t.

  The resolve he’d managed to summon right before Alex had called for Soraya had left him now that he was no longer in danger.

  On some conscious level, he was aware of Jordan and D.C. calling his name, but all he heard was the echo of clashing steel and roaring voices, the battle sounds still ringing in his ears. The clamour transformed into a single high-pitched tone, not unlike the painful alarm that had warned of Graevale being under attack. The shrill note pierced through every fibre of Bear’s being, a steady agony that transcended noise to become like barbs of liquid fire starting in his heart and pumping through his blood.

  His dad was dead.

  His dad was—

  “BEAR!”

  A rough shake brought him back to the room, the ringing in his ears dissolving. He blinked, blinked, blinked at the worried faces of Jordan and D.C., his eyes dry despite his entire being flooding in rivers of pain.