"Your special blade doesn't work Marcus." Marcus sheathed it and punched, laying a blow across the larger man’s chin. Darius actually staggered for a second.
"Then let's do this like men." Darius looked around at Marcus, his jaw knocked out of joint. He shook his head and the bone set back into place. Marcus couldn't help but cringe. Darius rubbed his jaw, smiling with appreciation.
"Not bad." Marcus dove at Darius, dragging him into the dirt and mud. Sage and Donavan looked up and saw the paladin in a bare-knuckle street fight. Marcus and Darius fought for supremacy for several seconds before Marcus got up on Darius's back. He rifled punches into the back of the man's head, trying to drop him. Darius simply reached back and threw Marcus to the ground.
"Eat earth paladin!" Marcus found himself pressing into the mud, his whole head going under the surface. Darius stomped down on Marcus's head until he couldn't see it anymore. He started for the Ironhorse, as Sage ran back and forth in what looked like a panic. Marcus grabbed Darius's foot and dragged the man to the ground, pulling himself from the mud.
"We're still NOT finished!" Darius couldn't seem to shake Marcus's grip.
"Yes. We are." Darius kicked and caught Marcus in the throat. Marcus coughed reflexively, his body attempting to protect his air supply. Darius wrenched himself free and moved toward Sage.
"Get in the cab," Sage said. Donavan jumped in, not questioning why.
“So, what about the little Elf-Nerd?” Sage had the hood of the Ironhorse open, pulling at the wires inside. He didn’t have a weapon on him. Darius reached for him, and Sage dropped several cables into the mud to avoid getting grabbed.
“No spine eh?” Darius chuckled as Sage grabbed the door of the Ironhorse and swung it out. The door hit Darius full in the face, stunning him with its temerity. Sage jumped into the driver's seat as Darius slammed the door shut behind him. The window shattered, showering Sage in shards of glass. He fumbled with the ignition. He couldn't get the key to fit in the lock.
“Whatever you’re doing, make it fast Sage!” Donavan pleaded. He was checking his ammo, and finding only two bullets in the chamber. “Now Cortez!”
“Stop pestering me!” Sage roared.
"Do you even know how to drive this wreck?" Darius said mockingly. Sage scowled. Darius grabbed the door, intent on ripping it free. His fingers crumpled the window frame where he gripped it. Sage fit the key into the lock and sat back quietly. Darius looked confused by his sudden calm.
“What’re you doing?” Donavan roared. Sage just smirked.
“You know anything about electricity Mister March?” Sage asked. Darius tilted his head a little. “Don’t add water.” Sage started the Ironhorse, and Darius looked down. He was standing in a puddle of water an inch deep. In it was one of the Ironhorse’s energy transfer cables.
“NO!” Sage stepped on the accelerator and the power of the Ironhorse’s engine poured into Darius, light cascading around his person. Sage gunned the engine, nearly burning out the generator in his ATV. After a moment of screaming and shaking, Darius dropped like a stone to the earth. Sage cut the engine and reached down to check his pulse.
“Don’t touch him. He’ll be hot.” Marcus walked over and tapped him with his sword. Darius groaned in pain, but didn’t rise.
“He’s still not dead?” Ian asked, struggling to his feet. Marcus didn’t respond, turning to where Rebekah had landed, some twenty feet away. He turned her over to face him. She was shivering, her body soaked from the rainstorm. He pulled off her helmet gingerly and smiled at her. Her right eye was swelled shut and her hair was stuck to her face, but she was still beautiful. Rebekah touched his face, her hands quivering with the effort.
“Your timing’s terrible,” she managed. “He said you’d be late.” Marcus felt tears in his eyes as he stroked her cheek.
“I made it, didn’t I?" he breathed. "I saved the day.” Rebekah smiled. “I’m not going to leave you alone ever again. I’m going to stay with you forever. You understand me?” Rebekah nodded with effort.
“I hope I can be here for it.” Rebekah closed her eyes, and didn’t open them. Marcus felt his own body go cold.
“Rebekah?” Marcus whispered. “REBEKAH!” She shivered for a second, and blinked.
“Oh God,” she moaned. “Where’re my legs? Marcus! I can’t feel my legs.” Marcus lifted her up and started for the Ironhorse.
“We’re gonna take care of that. Just don’t fall asleep again. Stay here.” Marcus was fighting to keep from breaking down. Rebekah knew better.
“I’m scared. What happened to my legs?” Marcus tried not to grimace as he set her on the back seat of the ATV.
“There’s nothing to be scared about,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “I love you, and I won't let anything bad happen to you. You're gonna be fine,” he said. Rebekah knew he meant it. Her face looked serene for a moment. Marcus wasn't sure how to react. She smiled a little, pushing his muddy hair off of his forehead.
“I love you too,” she mumbled. "I'm glad you said it." She relaxed a little, her fear all but gone. Marcus couldn’t tell if it was from reassurance or fatigue. “I’m gonna just rest a minute.” Rebekah closed her eyes, her breathing slowing.
“No Rebekah!” She didn’t respond. “Wake up! Come on Trouble! This isn't funny! Don’t do this now!” Rebekah was still breathing, but her breaths were so shallow. Marcus put his hand on her forehead and closed his eyes.
“Please don’t take her,” he whispered between sobs. “I need her.” No one made a sound. Sage bit his lip and started putting his engine back together faster than he’d ever done before.
Chapter 24
Explanations
Marcus stood still, his body immobile as the world around him died. He watched as Ian vanished and Rebekah was cut in two. Donavan cried out as a hail of bullets ripped through his flesh. And in all this, Marcus could not make his blade pull free from its scabbard. His feet wouldn't move. He knew what was coming. It was happening as it had before. Noganus closed on him, the Falseblade held high.
"Do what you must," a small voice said from the side. Marcus glanced over, seeing Uther there. His hands were closed around something he couldn't see. The pillar of light grew around him, and Marcus could see the determination on Uther's face. He was fighting. He was struggling.
"What must I do?" Marcus called out. Uther turned, smiling at him.
"What you always do. Just don't let him lose." The world exploded into light, and Marcus shot up, nearly falling out of the chair where he had dozed off. He looked around for a moment, trying to get his bearings. The room was dark, except for a solitary light over Rebekah, who was tied to several dully-beeping machines. Marcus closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. He hadn't had the dream in nearly a week. Now, it had returned with a new wrinkle.
Marcus reached out, putting a hand on Rebekah's. She didn't respond. She couldn't respond. Her body had retreated into a coma. She was trying to recover from the spinal trauma and rest was all her body knew how to do. Marcus watched her for a moment, stricken with his inability to do anything. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, then headed for the door. He needed to walk. He needed to do something.
Outside the room, Marcus took a long, slow breath, trying to clear his head a little. He felt sore all over. He was still dirty from the fighting and he could still feel Darius’s fists on his face. He hadn’t quite gotten his voice back to normal just yet. He needed a shower and some pain killers and a tall glass of water. But that hardly mattered now. His hurt wasn’t serious. Not physically anyway.
It didn't take long before he felt like he could walk tall again. He'd been so weary lately. It had been a trying few hours, and it didn't seem likely to get any better. After a moment of gathering himself, Marcus began to walk. The nurse's station was abuzz with conversation as he approached. Marcus could tell they were gossiping by the way they were speaking. But he wasn't listening. He didn't care for grapevine commentaries. Still, he couldn't help but cat
ch what they were saying.
"-said it was a wreck of some kind," one of the nurses said, finishing her telling of the story.
"Well, what about that tattooed guy they brought in. He didn't even register in the X-Ray machine. It was like his body was x-ray opaque or something." Marcus didn't find that surprising. Darius's magical hollow mark would render an x-ray machine useless.
"I heard that Sir Kasidyne killed a couple of guys out there. Caved in their skulls." Marcus flinched. The description was ghastly. He knew they were describing the corpses they’d found of Rand and Skeel. But he hadn’t considered that he might be a suspect in all that.
"He wouldn't do that!" a nearby orderly barked. Marcus decided to make his footfalls a bit louder so they'd hear him coming. The nurse's station grew hushed as Marcus came into view. The RN's tried not to show that they noticed him as he went past. Marcus knew better. He figured it all came down that way in the end. Rebekah's injury and whatever other rumors were flying around would be the stuff of idle conversation. But gossip was not useful.
Marcus entered the elevator and hit the button for the lobby. He planned on ducking out of the parking garage and doubling back to avoid the press. He needed to get away from all the gossip-mongering and get some real, hard facts.
Donavan sat on the Triumphant Bridge. He gave his uniform jacket another cursory look and frowned. He was lucky. The pullover itself was full of holes, mostly from weaponry he’d fired at Darius. Fortunately, none of those shots had hit him. But the jacket was going to need a serious bit of work by the ship’s quartermaster before it would be up to the Triumphant’s dress code.
“Good shooting,” Ian said from behind. Donavan glanced over his shoulder and sniffed.
“More like friendly fire. It’s all from bullets I shot." Ian tipped his head a little, wincing as he did. "Thought you’d be sleeping off all those painkillers they gave you?” he asked, tossing the garment onto the deck. Ian patted his splinted arm and grimaced.
“I sleep on my stomach. And I can’t do that with this in a sling,” he responded, motioning to his wrist. Donavan nodded and tried to allow himself to relax. The rain was still pounding down outside, leaving long water ripples on the glass dome of the bridge. The light outside was nil, with excessively heavy clouds blocking the early morning sunlight. A long moment passed. Ian sat down at the helm controls and sighed.
“Lousy night huh?” he said finally. Donavan looked up from his seat and shrugged.
“Lousy night for people in relationships,” he began. “I know what it’s like to go through that.” Ian nodded slightly.
“Yeah well, would’ve been better if I could’ve stayed oblivious to my girlfriend’s magical associations.” Donavan remembered at that statement. It had been longer than he’d recalled. Ian didn't need Donavan to remind him of what had happened. Not that he was inclined to.
“Bad night all over then. I forgot how close you two were getting.” Donavan watched his former corporal for a moment, and remembered the wife he had lost to the gangs in Meridian City. It hadn't been betrayal or revenge or any other explainable thing. Instead, Janice had been killed for the contents of her purse, which she wouldn't relinquish. A hairbrush, some lip balm and her ID card. No money. No jewels. No valuables of any kind. Not even a bank card. Officer Janice Dirk had been gunned down in broad daylight on her day off, in full view of a hundred people, for nothing. Donavan could sympathize with Ian and his feelings.
“Maybe you should talk to the guys at the Samurai Conservatory. They might know where she’s gone to. Or even where she may have been the last few days.” Ian waved him off. He wasn’t interested in doing any investigations at this point. He was just mad. But the larger part of him wanted to know, and finding Aiko was the easiest way. He raised himself from the helm station and seemed to round his shoulders.
“Only if you’ll come along. I’d take Marcus, but . . ..” Donavan nodded, placing his pistols back in their holsters. It was something he knew how to do. Ian wasn’t in his calmest frame of mind. Donavan was going to make sure Ian didn't lose control.
“We need to stop by the quartermaster’s office first. I need a new jacket,” Donavan said, tossing the remains of his pullover onto his command chair. That a least got a smirk out of Ian.
It didn't take very long for Marcus to find himself back at the Littlefield Drydock. He had left the hospital some time ago, walking in the rain without any real direction or route in mind. He hadn't intended to come back to the Drydock, but now that he was here, he figured he'd check in and see what was happening. Repair crews seemed to be working overtime, crewmen running in and out of the open hangar bay, transporting whatever materials Sage had decided they needed to replace the now destroyed core.
"Sir Kasidyne," one of the officers called out. Marcus glanced up at the man, his attention drawn away from the wandering he was doing.
"Eddie," Marcus said, his tone pleasant, though forced. Eddie knew what had happened on board ship. He'd spent the last few hours requisitioning any and all supplies he could find that were needed to repair the devastated engine room.
"Heard you had a rough night," Eddie said as he met Marcus on the tarmac. Marcus shook his head, not sure what to say to that. Eddie frowned a little. It didn't take much reasoning to see that Marcus was really bothered. "The Captain let me in on the situation with Rebekah. Figured I could help keep it all hush-hush. I'm sorry." Marcus scowled a little. It wasn't Donavan's fault. The whole world would know once the day finally broke. They'd done everything they could to keep the press unaware of what had happened outside the city limits. The last thing anybody needed was a full-scale panic on their hands.
"Listen, Eddie. Is Sage around?" Eddie nodded grimly.
"Engine room. He's been ripping everyone from the engineering corps to the galley staff. I've never seen him so agitated." Marcus took a breath and started for the ship. "You're not agitated, are you?" Eddie asked finally. Marcus paused.
"That really depends on what Sage tells me."
"I don't care if you have to use tweezers and a toothpick to do it! Get this place sanitized and degaussed before the sun finally comes up!" Sage snapped, his accent thickening as he said it. "The slightest bit of static electricity could ruin the new core. Now MOVE!" The technician Sage was barking at nearly leaped straight out of his shoes in an attempt to hurry. The rest of the auxiliary engine room staff was keeping their distance and not asking any questions. Whatever had happened here, it'd been bad. And Sage wasn't in the mood to explain it to them.
The primary engineering crew knew some of what had happened. So did the security force. But the engine room staff was in the Infirmary with cuts and bruises. Many of them were still out cold. Most of them were too delirious to explain what they'd seen. In the end, no one other than those present had a full or real picture of what had happened.
It's my fault, Sage thought, sitting down at the primary engine control station. He was tired. It'd been a very long and stressful evening, and the end was not anywhere in Sage's immediate future. He closed his eyes and laid his head back a moment. He needed to rest for just a second. He needed to allow his mind to wander. He'd be better able to focus on what he had to accomplish afterward.
"I could kill you." Sage nearly fell out of his chair at the statement. He turned around to see Marcus standing there, his arms folded across his chest. The young paladin's face was not stretched in amusement or even sarcasm. Sage did his best not to gulp.
"Is that why you’re here?" Marcus frowned.
"I said I could. And I’d have the Council’s backing on it." It took a moment for Sage to relax at that. Marcus wasn't going to. But Sage could see he was tempted.
"I think I might feel better if you did," Sage returned, sagging back into his chair. Marcus watched him slumping into the seat for a moment, trying to judge the elf's demeanor.
"What were you thinking?" he asked finally. Sage looked up at Marcus and shrugged.
"I suppose that’s th
e only question that matters. I really don't know," he said honestly. "It was a good, feasible idea from a scientific point of view." Marcus started pacing, his arms still folded.
"The Falseblade was never recovered after the incident at Horthok." Sage nodded at that. "Did you hide it?"
"No. I didn't find it in Horthok." Sage's voice felt strained. He put his hand to his eyes, attempting to rub away a growing headache. "We'd just finished the final checks on Triumphant's internal substructure. I walked into the hangar where the energy siphon was being constructed, and it was waiting for me at my desk, sealed in a steel case." Marcus stopped. That seemed a little convenient.
“And you didn’t think to call anyone’s attention to it?” Sage didn’t look up, keeping his hands on his eyes. He didn’t want to look at Marcus. He didn’t want to think about it.
“I did!” he protested. “At first.” Sage opened his eyes and tried not to scowl. Marcus was still standing with his arms folded across his chest. Sage figured it was the only way Marcus could keep from reaching out and strangling him.
“So what then?” Marcus asked. The bite in his tone was almost painful to hear. “I want the whole story Sage.”
“Where did you put it?” Sage asked, almost embarrassed. Marcus’s scowl deepened. Sage could swear he felt a growl growing from Marcus’s throat.
“Away. It’s safe for now. Believe me. Now tell me what happened.” Sage hesitated. “I have all night Sage. Bore me.” Despite what he wanted, Sage began.
“I never touched it without some kind of protection. Certainly never grabbed the hilt. I’m not stupid.” Marcus grunted, almost sarcastically. “Okay. I’m stupid. But I’m also careful.” After a glance at the young paladin, Sage continued.
“Well, I had intended to call you. But I figured I should tell Donavan first. You know, go through the chain of command, so to speak. But something kept nagging at me. I did a few tests, just to make sure it was for real, and not some practical joke.
The Paladin Archives Book Two The Withering Falseblade Page 39