Prom Knight

by Ben Reeder

  “If you don’t mind, lad,” he said. With a nod, I stood and pulled a pair of iron rings from my middle fingers as I turned around. I pulled the ends of the shackles open, then slipped an iron ring between each of them when I pulled them closed.

  “Okay, let’s do this.” The chains clinked as I gestured toward the door. Watkins bobbed in place for a moment, then pushed the massive iron doors open. He led me into the room, and I remembered why I used to think of it as a macabre orchard. Columns of stone rose from the floor and descended from the ceiling, each holding a glowing greenish-yellow bulb at the end. Inside was a swirling gas, but as we walked through the ones on the floor, I could see shapes inside. Faces, grasping hands and more gruesome things floated near the edges of each orb. Thin strands of mist oozed from the top of each globe toward the center of the room. I turned my gaze away. Staring at that kind of thing too long could drive you crazy.

  Fifty yards later, we were approaching a raised section of the floor. The lines of mist converged overhead, then plunged down. As we got closer, I could see the meditation pool. Thick, black fluid filled it, and Dulka’s head and shoulders were visible near the center of the pool. He faced away from us, and I could see the broken horn on the right side of his head, a constant reminder of the beating I’d handed him a year and a half ago. I could also see the top edges of two thick scars that ran down his back, something visible in Hell only because he couldn’t conceal it here. It marked him as one of the original Fallen, the place where his wings had been torn from his body before he had been cast into the Abyss. He turned, his onyx colored skin glistening with the black pool’s liquid. First, he looked at Watkins and frowned.

  Then he saw me.

  Dark liquid sprayed as he surged to his feet, his full form revealed in all its horrific glory. In Hell, Dulka was massive, easily eighteen feet tall and rippling with muscle. He let out a roar that shook the room and sent dust falling from the ceiling. I glanced over to Watkins in time to see his right hand dart out to touch the spellbinders. His lips moved and I felt a tingle as the magick inhibitors tried to kick in and close the shackles. Red sparks flew from the spellbinders as the magick hit the iron rings and shorted out, but Watkins wasn’t looking my way. Instead he had grabbed my arm and jumped behind me.

  “WHY DID YOU BRING THAT LITTLE BASTARD IN HERE?” Dulka roared as he waded toward us.

  “I caught him sneaking around your halls, master!” Watkins squeaked from behind me. He pushed me forward, half as a shield, half as an offering. “He spoke of killing you and revenge, but I overpowered him and brought him to you to punish.”

  “YOU LITTLE…” he started, then stopped. He came to a halt halfway to the edge, then looked closer at me. I met his gaze, doing my best to project cool and collected. But my heart was hammering in my chest, and I could feel old memories clawing at the edges of my mind, pulling at me, trying to suck me back into relive them all over again.

  “Hey, Dulka,” I said. “Sucks to see you again, too.”

  “What are you up to?” Dulka demanded. “Your little heart is beating like you’re scared...but you’re not scared enough.”

  “I have a proposition for you, asshole.”

  Watkins hit me in the back of the head, sending me staggering forward. “Show respect to the master, boy!” he barked. When I got my balance back, I held up one finger at Dulka, then turned to face Watkins.

  “Touch me again, and I will make you left handed for a month,” I said. He cringed and stepped back, so I turned to Dulka. “So, like I said, I have a proposition for you.”

  “What could you possibly offer me?” Dulka demanded with a deep, booming laugh. “Oh, wait, I know.” He put his right hand out, and I could see the oozing wound that ran through his palm. Power hit me, and I fought the urge to activate the amulet as I felt the connection to the sword pulse. He pulled at it, and the ground beneath us shook. With a frown, he tried again, making the pool slosh and bits of rock fall from the ceiling.

  “What?” I gasped in mock surprise. “You went for the sword? After the elaborate plan you tried last summer, I would never expect that you wanted that! But to answer your question, let’s just say I didn’t come empty handed.”

  “Let’s say that,” he growled. “What do you have to offer?” He lowered himself back into the pool and regarded me with a quizzical look.

  “Nothing, master,” Watkins said from behind me. “He’s powerless now. I can force him to tell us why he’s really here, what his plans are.”

  “Watkins, you’re an idiot,” Dulka said, laughing again. “I trained this boy, and he’s spent the last two years as an apprentice to a Conclave wizard. Now he’s standing in front of me like the hero in some space opera, ready to pull his laser sword when I least expect it. He knew I’d try for the sword. He let you ‘capture’ him.”

  “Master, I have him in-”

  “Do you see him begging for his life?” Dulka yelled, coming partway out of the pool again. “Do you see him cowering and afraid? No! The only person pissing themselves in fear in this room is you. The boy in spellbinders is confident enough to mock me to my face and threaten one of my servants in front of me. The last time he was this confident, he blew up a goddamn school with me in it. He came prepared, dumbass. Now, kneel and shut up. I want to hear what he has to offer me. Who knows, this might even be a deal worth taking.” He gestured at me with his left hand.

  “Thanks. Word is, after last summer, you’re persona non grata with the Mammon Booster Club. In fact, didn’t I hear a rumor around Mabon that there was a contract or three out on you?”

  “Nuisances and distractions to keep me occupied,” Dulka said. “The worst they could do is inconvenience me for a while. I’ve felt the Maxilla’s bite. That’s the only threat I take seriously, and it scares them. What’s your point?”

  “Revenge,” I said. “You took a wound from the only weapon that can kill your kind in the service of their cause. I could have killed you. And they rewarded your efforts with betrayal. Scorn.”

  “I would have done the same,” Dulka said. He lifted his hand from the water, revealing the seeping wound again. “I failed them.”

  “And they would have tried to get their own revenge, wouldn’t they?”

  “Too true,” he said with a grim smile. “So, revenge, you say?”

  “Yup. I’m offering you the chance to really fuck their plans up, weaken their armies and get something for yourself in the process.”

  “How?”

  “Fight Mammon’s Horde with me during the Rending. Donovan will be there, wielding the Maxilla. Keep the foot soldiers off of us so he can wipe out your chief rivals. With them dead, their domains will be up for grabs, and you’ll have a head start.”

  “And a weakened army,” Dulka said.

  “Tired and hurt, maybe,” I countered. “But whole. We won’t be killing your forces, just theirs. Keep your troops away from our line, and you’ll walk away from this a much more powerful Lord in Hell.”

  “Is that all you have to offer?”

  “You get to live. And I’ll heal the wound I gave you.”

  “Then we are agreed,” Dulka said.

  “One last thing. If you’re thinking that there’s nothing keeping you from just sitting on the sidelines and taking advantage of the chaos anyway, think again.”

  He shrugged and looked at me. “I was hoping you hadn’t thought of that. But you haven’t given me any good reason for showing up.”

  “One, you owe me for the information already. I know you hate being in debt to anyone, and to me especially. Two, showing up only makes your job easier when you loot the realms of the fallen because you’ll be the only demon who stood up to Sammael and Berith. Everyone will know what a badass you are when you come knocking. Plus it’ll piss off Gedeon and Synrhodi’ir. Three, you know you will because you’ll want to cash in on this later on. And you know I’ll feel obligated to let you.”

  “Those are nice but not compelling, you know,”
he said.

  “You also agreed to the deal already. And there is no version of you showing up to fight that doesn’t benefit you.”

  “This is one of those situations where both sides win, isn’t it?” Dulka asked. “Except for Mammon’s supporters.”

  “Yeah, it’ll suck for them, but for you and me, it’s gonna be a good night.”

  “Then I’ll probably be there,” he said.

  “You will be, or I’ll come back with a pissed off Nazarite,” I said as I turned and headed for the doors.

  “Watkins, show our uninvited guest out, and get those spellbinders back,” Dulka said with a dismissive wave. Watkins grinned as he got to his feet and reached for me.

  “You sure you want to be a lefty?” I asked. He grabbed my arm by way of answer. I reached up and took his bony wrist in my hand, then spun his arm around into a joint lock that left his elbow straight and his wrist bent uncomfortably. While he howled in pain, I reached down and pulled the narrow iron shiv from inside my waistband and drove it between the radius and ulna just behind his wrist. My aim was a little off, and I felt it scrape against bone before sliding through the cartilage that held the two bones together. His cries got even louder, and I wiped the shiv off on his ratty tunic. He cradled his bleeding arm to his chest when I let go of it, then turned to sneer at me.

  “The master will simply heal me,” he snarled.

  “It’s an iron weapon,” I said, holding the narrow spike up. Pale red splotches covered part of it, and I smiled. “A rusty iron weapon that left iron oxide in the wound, and in your blood. You’re going to have to heal that the old fashioned way.” His eyes went wide, and I shoved him back. “I know my own way out,” I said to Dulka, then turned for the doors again, pulling my hands free of the spellbinders and palming the rings. The doors opened on their own, and I walked out. No one tried to stop me as I made my way back out of the palace and back to where I had arrived.

  “My business here is done,” I said. A second later, a hole in Reality appeared, and I stepped though. The trip back was much easier since I was going back to a place where I actually belonged, but it was still rough. I staggered to the nearest wall and leaned against it, trying not to heave up everything in my stomach.

  “You okay?” Steve asked.

  “Yeah, fine,” I gasped. “Throw him his payment, so we can go home.” He tossed the ball to the blurry spot where the Void elemental was. It disappeared with a pop, and things went back to normal. Then he pulled the Maxilla’s point from the ground.

  “Welcome back to the real world, man,” Steve said as he came to my side. He put an arm under mine and pulled me closer to upright. “You still look like Hell, though.”

  “Everybody’s a comedian,” I muttered. He chuckled, then went still. I looked up to see a figure step out of the shadows. Dressed in gray slacks and a matching silk blouse, her face was covered by a gray silk cloth from the nose down, but there was no mistaking that it was a woman, and I knew those eyes.

  “Kim,” I said.

  “Do you know her?” Steve asked.

  “He knows my name,” Kim said. “He does not know...me. I thank you for bringing both yourself and the Maxilla to me, Chance. It will bring me great favor with the oyabuns.”

  Steve stepped away from me and drew the Maxilla. “Lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not getting my friend, and you’re not taking the sword.”

  “We don’t have to do this, Kim,” I said, trying to stand without swaying.

  “Yes, we do,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice as her stance shifted. “We must fight, and you will lose.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much gonna happen,” I said. “Steve, run. The sword is a lot more important than I am, especially now.”

  “Together we can take her, man” he said.

  “No, we can’t,” I insisted, then stepped in front of him. “Now run!”

  “Not happening, little buddy,” Steve said. He stepped up beside me, and I had to fight to keep from facepalming.

  “You should have taken his advice, Nazarite,” Kim said. She grabbed a strap that ran across her body and pulled a sheathed katana into view. “You should have run. I am a trained swordswoman, with years of experience. You are what? A half trained boy?” Her stance shifted and she gripped the katana’s sheathe.

  “Steve,” I said, “Don’t do this.”

  “I’m a Nazarite, and the Wielder of the Maxilla Asini. And I’ve fought bigger than you lady.” He rushed forward, and Kim drew her blade. As the tip cleared the scabbard, it trailed an arc of red powder, which Steve rushed straight into. I took a step back, not wanting to find out the hard way what it was. Almost as soon as he hit the red dust, Steve staggered back, shaking his head and coughing. Then Kim lunged forward. To his credit, Steve blocked the first stroke, and got his blade on the second, even blinded. Then she did a feint low and right, and he moved to block. Her blade flicked up in a blur of steel, and Steve reeled back, his hand going to his neck. Her sword moved again, and a line of red appeared across his wrist. A quick thrust and the tip of her blade touched his chest before she slashed his shirt open from his ribs to his belt line. I couldn’t get a shield spell over him fast enough, and she was inside anything I could do on the fly for him.

  “Steve, get out of here!” I yelled. “Keep the sword safe, that’s your first job!”

  “Listen to him, Nazarite,” Kim said. “There is wisdom in what he says, and no dishonor in yielding the field to a superior opponent if your fall means the loss of more than your own life.”

  “I can’t run from a fight,” Steve said, blinking to clear his vision. Everywhere her sword had touched, a thin cut bled.

  “You need to run from this one,” I said, and cast a shield between them.

  “Look to your wounds, Nazarite,” Kim said. “Each would have been lethal, had I made it even a centimeter deeper.” Steve looked down at the shallow cuts Kim had left on him, then looked to me with fear in his eyes for the first time.

  “Go,” I said. “I’ll be okay.” I think, I added in my own head. He nodded, then frowned as he went to move. Instead of running, though, he just sort of pitched sideways and lay still. I turned to look at Kim, horrified that I might have just gotten him killed.

  “A mild paralytic on the blade,” Kim said. “He will live. Now, show me what my beloved Trevor has taught you.”

  “One Hell of a shield spell,” I said, stepping over to stand in front of Steve. Kim smiled, then unleashed a barrage of glowing bolts at my shield. I had designed it strong, and I had taken some pretty serious hits against it. But her attack was unlike anything I had ever faced. It wasn’t just one hit, it was a hundred, each one harder than the last, each one chipping away at it like a sandblaster. I felt it weakening with every blow, until it collapsed in a blinding backlash. I staggered back, my vision white with unfocused magick coursing through me.

  “Don’t bore me with parlor tricks, apprentice,” Kim said, her voice low and harsh. I heard footsteps, and I reflexively dropped and rolled to the side. Something flew through the air to my right, and I shifted to my Sight. Kim’s aura became visible, and I saw a red line arc toward me. I ducked under it, then danced back as another line flowed at me. Then I was dodging and blocking a flurry of kicks and punches, barely getting out of the way or blocking each punch. Even still, a few got through, and I finally stumbled back with a fat lip and a swollen cheek. My vision was starting to clear, though, and Kim was standing back, giving me a long, appraising look.

  “Your defense is barely adequate,” she said. “But still...adequate. Now, let’s see your offense.”

  I didn't bother with a witty comeback. “Ictus,” I hissed, then followed up with a kick as she dodged the TK bolt. She blocked that, and every punch and kick I tried. Then somewhere in there, she starting hitting back, and it turned into a trade-off. Attack, defend, attack, defend. Then I was on my back, and my lungs didn’t know how to get air into them all of th
e sudden.

  When my diaphragm stopped spasming, I gasped in a breath of sweet air, only to find Kim kneeling next to me. “Barely adequate,” she said. “But again, adequate. For a rank novice.” Her left hand touched a spot on my temple, and suddenly, I couldn’t think straight or move.

  “What...what are you…” I slurred.

  “Nothing serious,” Kim said. “I’ve disrupted the flow of your chi. It interferes with your voluntary muscle control. The effects will pass before you wake up. In the meantime, there is much that must be done.” She looked around, then down at me. Gently, she put a fingertip to the side of my face. “Remember the way,” she whispered. The last thing I saw before I fell into blackness was her eyes. Gods, they were beautiful...

  Chapter 14

  ~ A man’s greatest enemy is his own nature; learn to use it to your benefit. ~ Clan Ryu teaching

  I woke up to the memory of Kim’s fingers brushing my forehead. Of all the times I’d been knocked out, this was the most pleasant wake up I could remember. Even if my hands were tied in front of me. I looked down to see that my fingers had been bound together in a complicated position, and thin needles were stuck in my forearm. I was sitting in a large hotel room, facing the front of the room. A king sized bed was between me and the door, and a comfortable looking couch was to my left.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ve been tied up by my mentor’s ex. There’s a love triangle I don’t want to be a part of.” Pain flared above my left ear as Kim walked into sight in a silver evening gown, her right hand coming back from the love tap she’d delivered to the side of my head. Some people look pretty, some people are beautiful. Kim owned the beautiful class. The way she moved, the way she held herself, even the way she spoke was graceful, poised and confident. She reminded me of Shade when she walked, and made me smile at the realization she was the kind of woman Shade would probably become.

  “You are a fool, Chance Fortunato,” she said, her brow creased ever so slightly. “Do not speak so casually of such things. Especially not here.”