In that moment of distraction, he almost didn’t see the katar punch-blade coming toward his stomach. Sucking in his gut, he managed to deflect the arm that held it and jabbed at the wielder’s jaw with the hilt of Blódbál. There was a crunch as solid metal connected with flesh and bone. The assassin staggered back, clutching at his face. Yajat growled at him. The man shook his head and re-entered the fray.
A loud, hollow crack attested to Jade’s skill with the quarterstaff and one opponent went down at her feet, unconscious. Behind Phoenix, Marcus breathed raggedly as he fended off two antagonists at once. Unexpectedly, one of them pitched forward and almost fell on top of Phoenix. He gave the man a thump across the head with the hilt of his sword for good measure and shoved the body aside, wondering what had happened. A flicker of movement behind Vishnu’s statue told him Brynn must have woken and was doing his best with his sling.
There was no more time to wonder about his companions. Two antagonists came at Phoenix together, one swinging high, the other low. It was impossible to block both, or to dodge without opening up the tight defensive position he and the others were trying to maintain. He made a split-second decision and sidestepped slightly forward to the left to avoid the low strike and pre-empt the high one. Sliding his left hand up the chest of that assassin, he caught the man under the chin with the palm of his hand. With Blódbál, Phoenix blocked a new sword-strike from the first assailant, even as he dropped to one knee and drove the second killer into the stone floor with his left hand. The man didn’t get up. One down.
Snatching his dagger out, Phoenix relaxed his sword-arm. Losing balance, the assassin leaned just a little too far forward. Driving from his toes, Phoenix used his upward momentum to slide under his opponent’s upraised guard. He jammed the dagger to the hilt into an exposed ribcage. The man staggered back, gasping.
Glancing around, he saw Marcus had successfully dealt with his attacker and was busy helping Jade. In moments, only the three companions were left standing. Around them lay the limp bodies of half a dozen of Yajat’s men. Grinning, Phoenix straightened up to look at this last foe. Maybe there was a chance they could do this, after all.
Yajat leaned casually against Vishnu’s leg. He began clapping slowly.
“Well done, well done.” He hitched himself off the stone figure and sauntered toward them. Tilting his head, he eyed Phoenix with respect. “I was disappointed when I killed you so easily on the battlefield but perhaps you really are everything I was told.”
“What are you talking about?” Phoenix said impatiently. “We don’t have time to waste chatting. Your men are beaten and so are you. If you leave now we won’t have to kill you. Go back to Zhudai and tell him we’re coming.”
Yajat waggled a finger at him. “Surely you are not going to make the same mistake twice, my friend? You cannot let me go. You will have to fight for your freedom, and I will be honoured to take the last lives of a skilled martial artist.”
“Look,” Phoenix sighed, “we’ve just defeated your men and you know I can beat you, so let’s just call it quits. I’ve had a long day.”
“But you are mistaken,” Yajat said quietly.
“About what? Beating your men or beating you?” Phoenix waved a scornful hand at the prostrate bodies on the floor.
“Both,” the assassin smiled. He raised his hand.
Out from the shadows stepped thirty more silent, deadly warriors. One of them had his elbow firmly locked around Brynn’s throat. The boy’s feet were barely touching the ground; fingernails scrabbling at the arm across his windpipe.
“Put down your weapons, or the boy dies now,” Yajat’s voice was no longer light and friendly; he was now deadly serious.
Phoenix exchanged a questioning look with Jade and Marcus, both of whom nodded. Together they slowly laid their weapons on the floor and raised their hands above their heads.
Yajat smiled contemptuously. “Cadoc was right. You are gullible do-gooders. I cannot believe you have managed to stay alive this long.” He walked past the man holding Brynn and nodded.
“Kill him.”
The knife plunged toward the boy’s throat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
In mid-stroke, the assassin’s arm faltered. The blade fell from his hand and clattered to the floor. With a peculiar, shocked expression on his face, he released Brynn and slid bonelessly to the ground. A knife handle protruded from his back.
Quicker than thought, Brynn took advantage of the moment of confusion and darted across to the dubious shelter of his companions. From beneath Jade’s arm, he joined them in staring at the dead man.
“Who did that?” Yajat turned on his men in fury. “Who?”
“I did,” came a familiar voice from the shadows. Cadoc stepped into the light. He sauntered over to stand next to Jade and Brynn. Phoenix glared at him, wondering what he was up to now.
Yajat started. “You were out of lives. You told me so. I saw your life-bracelet. How have you returned?”
Cadoc shrugged. “I lied. I do that, sometimes. In fact, fairly often, now that I think about it. Mostly to you. I had a pretty blue potion that restored a life. Figured you might not be a completely honest and trustworthy business partner, so I lied. So kill me. Oh, wait,” he cocked his head at Yajat, “you already did that.”
Yajat looked at him for a long moment and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Three or five against thirty. You are outnumbered.” He turned to his men with a nod. “Kill them.”
“What?! Hang on a minute!” Phoenix yelped. Yajat held up a hand. His men paused. Phoenix spoke buying time but for what, he didn’t know.
“Aren’t you going to rant and rave and explain your evil plan to us? Isn’t that was badguys do? Don’t you have to stick to the script?”
Yajat raised an eyebrow at them. “What are you talking about? There is no script. My master wants you dead. Why would I waste time debating his plans with dead people? Kill them but leave that one,” he pointed at Phoenix, “for me.” He stepped forward. His men paced alongside then launched themselves at the five companions.
Phoenix swore softly. Yajat laughed aloud, swinging his long, curved sword in a lethal arc toward Phoenix’s head. Hampered by the need to stay close to his friends, Phoenix could do little more than block and shove the assassin back with his superior strength. Blódbál’s song swelled, the fire in his blood built as his anger at the Indian grew. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on the fight, not let the sword overwhelm his thinking.
Yajat disengaged and swung again. Phoenix had no time to wonder how the others were doing. Their only hope was if he could take Yajat out. Maybe if the head of the snake was removed, the minions would run away. Until then, he just had to hope his friends could hold out against thirty trained assassins. He didn’t dare take his eyes off Yajat, even for a second, to check.
He slipped aside from Yajat’s stroke, feinting a jab with his own sword, hoping to draw the assassin close enough for a dagger-strike to the gut. Instead, an underling leapt into the gap, wielding a wickedly hooked blade. He raised it to slash down at Phoenix but stopped as a metal point pierced through his chest from behind. Soundlessly, the underling slid to the ground in a heap. Yajat shoved the body aside.
“I told you, he’s mine.”
Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Just can’t get good help these days, I guess,” he taunted.
Yajat shrugged. “There’s more where he came from. Where were we?”
“I think you were about to attempt to kill me and I was about to succeed at killing you,” Phoenix shifted his weight, eyeing the assassin’s body language closely. What attack would he use?
White teeth showed in Yajat’s dark face. He danced lightly forward, his left hand hidden behind him as his right swept the flashing sword around in fancy, impressive circles. Phoenix paused, half-remembering discussions between his sensei and the senior belts - something about the hidden hand. What was it? Oh yes, watch for the knife held backward in the hidden hand. That’s wh
at Yajat was doing, trying to distract him from the knife hand. Smiling grimly, Phoenix let his focus widen, taking in the assassin’s whole body, trying not to let the sword movement keep his attention too thoroughly. He dropped his own left hand back and quickly reversed his own dagger-grip. Now the blade protruded backward.
When Yajat pounced forward and struck an obvious side-blow toward Phoenix’s neck, instead of waiting for it or raising his sword to block it - a move that would have exposed his right side to the hidden dagger - Phoenix moved first. He stepped in closer, intercepting the swinging arm at shoulder height with his own dagger-hand, slicing up in a block that both stopped the strike and cut through the tendons of the assassin’s sword arm. At the same time he extended his right arm and lay the edge of Blodbal’s blade along Yajat’s exposed throat.
Yajat’s sword clattered to the ground. Jerking his head away with a growl, he swung his left hand up, dagger blade glittering in the half-light. Phoenix turned away, out of reach, wrapped his left arm around Yajat’s now-useless right one and twisted it up into an arm-bar. He held Blódbál’s point at the assassin’s throat and forced the arm up, straightening it painfully. Yajat yelped, glaring and panting, his dagger hand flailing.
“Drop the knife and tell your friends to back off,” Phoenix ordered.
Yajat sneered. “Look around and tell me who should be giving the orders.”
Phoenix turned them both together. His heart sank. Every one of his friends, and Cadoc were all held firmly by at least two or three black-clad assassins. A knife at every throat. Every life in his hands. A standoff but he had more to lose. Dammit.
Suddenly, Cadoc laughed aloud. The sound cut jarringly through the silent tension of the room. Phoenix cast him an irritated glance.
“You may think you’re in charge, Yajat but there’s someone else here who may wish to argue that.” The Player pointed over Yajat’s shoulder.
Phoenix followed his finger and his mouth fell open in surprise. Looming behind Yajat was a very large, blue-skinned, four-armed man. In one hand he held a shell, in one a lotus flower and in one, a very large, very heavy-looking mace. The plinth behind him was empty.
An awed murmur swept through Yajat’s men. As one, they fell to their knees, dropping weapons with an ear-shattering clatter. Phoenix released Yajat and the assassin staggered back two steps clutching his wounded arm then recovered and bowed.
“Vishnu, you honour us with your presence, lord.”
“Yajat.” The god gave the assassin’s name a wealth of meaning – none of it good. Yajat bowed deeper until his head almost touched his knees.
“Take your men and leave. These people are under my protection now.” Vishnu’s voice held the depth of caverns and the emptiness of outer space. His measured, weary tones were layered with an understanding of men and the universe that clearly weighed on his soul. There was no arguing with him.
The assassin cast the companions a venomous glance. Reluctantly, he waved at his followers. Trembling and bowing, they preceded their fuming master out the door, leaving the companions to face another god.
“Come,” the god waved them forward with his empty hand. “You are safe now.”
Together, the group edged forward, not quite sure of his definition of “safe” or of their reception with this enigmatic being. Thor had been bluff and good-natured – once he’d stopped trying to kill them with lightning. Anuket had been gentle and kind. Somehow they sensed that Vishnu was a far greater, more powerful being than either of those two – and probably far less tolerant.
Vishnu stretched out his empty hand toward Cadoc. “I believe you have something of mine?”
“Ah! Yes.” Cadoc pulled the Sudarshana out of his backpack and handed it over with a shrug. “Sorry about that. Had to try, you know.”
Vishnu hefted the great silver disc and looked straitly at him. “Perhaps I should use this on you? A little soul-searching might make you less likely to betray friends in the future.”
The Player backed away, raising his hands defensively. “No thanks. I’ve learned my lesson – really.”
The god raised one brow at him but said no more. He bowed his head toward the others, his ornately-jewelled headdress sparkling in the dim light.
“You have succeeded in returning the chakra to me. Now it is time for your next journey to begin.”
“What?” Brynn’s resentful question took everyone by surprise. “We go through all that…fighting and bloodshed to get that bloody thing back to you and you don’t even say ‘thanks’? Well, that’s nice that is.”
Vishnu turned his head, his bottomless eyes fixed unblinkingly on Brynn. The boy flinched. “What thanks would you have, child? Is your life not enough?” There was no humour in the question. The god was all seriousness.
Jade pushed Brynn behind her. “Of course it’s enough, sir. He’s just tired. We’ve had a long day.” Obviously hearing Brynn’s indignant intake of breath, she changed the subject. “What’s our next task, sir?”
Vishnu looked at her from beneath half-lowered eyelids. “You know what it is. You must master the Yu Dragon and defeat the Dragonmaster, himself – Zhudai.”
“But…” Jade spread her hands. “Aren’t you going to give us some weapon or tool? Some other task to complete that will help us? We’re not ready to face him. We’re…we’re tired and we’ve lost too many lives. Zhudai has ways to counter Phoenix’s sword. My magic is almost useless. If we go to China now, we can’t possibly win…It’s not fair…we can’t…” her voice trailed off and her expression tightened.
Phoenix could see she was struggling to hold back a flood of emotion. He didn’t blame her. She’d had a tough time on this level and the next wouldn’t be any easier. Marcus put his arm around her shoulders and she buried her face in his chest.
He had to admit, it wasn’t fair. They had been through so much on this level and now there was nothing to show for it. Nothing. No new weapons; no new magic; no new skills to speak of, except the small amount of knife-throwing practice he’d had. By this time, they were supposed to have gained enough weapons and experience to be able to defeat Zhudai. Instead, they were further behind than ever.
Vishnu’s face softened into resigned understanding. “Hasn’t your father always chided you for expecting life to be fair, child? And yet still you do so.”
Jade jerked her head up and stared at him, her expression dumbfounded. Phoenix blinked. How could a god of this world possibly know what her real-world father had said to her? How?
Tears sparkled on her cheeks. Before anyone could stop her, she wrenched free of Marcus and ran out of the room. Phoenix yelled her name as she fled but she ignored him. He and Marcus took several hasty steps toward the door. Vishnu called them back.
“Let her go!” The command in his voice was impossible to disobey. Reluctantly and resentfully, they returned.
“Yajat might still be out there,” Phoenix argued. “She’s not safe.”
“She is following her destiny. She is where she is meant to be. Leave her.”
Again Phoenix found it impossible to ignore the god’s tone. Seething, he glared at the blue-skinned deity.
“There are things to finish before the moon sets and I must return to my own realm.” Vishnu stepped back onto the plinth where his statue had stood. The companions watched him. He nodded regally to them.
“Outside, you will find a gate that will take you to your next quest. Cadoc,” he sent a warning look toward the other Player. “You have a chance. Don’t throw this one away. Redeem yourself before you move on. You may not find Jupiter and his fellow gods of Rome quite as understanding as I.”
Cadoc screwed up his face and nodded, scratching his chin.
“Phoenix,” the god turned fathomless eyes his way. “You and your companions will have every skill and every tool you need to succeed. Many of them you simply have not yet recognised for what they are. Now you need to follow through to the end what you have begun. Restore balance to this land
and to yourselves. You have just three days until the ri shi. If you have not completed your task by then, you are lost and this world and your own will belong to Zhudai.”
He eyed each of them until, one by one, they dropped their gazes, unable to meet his knowing, infinitely wise and dark gaze. There was an odd, cracking sound and a half-seen flash of purple-blue non-light that made them blink. When they looked up, the statue was again in place: complete with Sudarshana glinting in its hand. The moonlight disappeared, along with the last of Jade’s little lights, leaving them in silent darkness.
“Um…” Brynn’s small voice sounded beside Phoenix’s elbow. “Do you think we could get out of here now? This is just plain creepy.”
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. Slowly, they felt and blundered their way out of the dark temple, into the open air of the courtyard. They peered around but Yajat and his men were nowhere to be seen.
Not far away, Jade leaned with her head against the neck of her mare, stroking its nose. She seemed ok. Phoenix hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with her right now. He had no idea what you were supposed to say to a girl when she was upset. He looked at Marcus, who frowned and shrugged.
“I think she just needs a little time to rest and regain her real strength.” He sent a quick glare at Cadoc; who had the grace to look sheepish. “So what do we do with him?” Marcus jerked his chin at the Player.
Phoenix ran his fingers through his hair. “Good question. What do we do with you, Cadoc? You almost cost us the level and you owe Jade at least three lives.” Feeling his blood start to boil at the thought of their supposed friends’ treachery, he reached for Blódbál.
“Hey, cut me some slack,” Cadoc stepped a pace back, raising his own hands to show they were empty. “I didn’t know you when Bhumaka and Yajat hired me. As far as I knew, you were just a job. I didn’t even know you were Players until the morning after we fought the Naga. By then I’d already slipped Jade one dose of poison. With Bhumaka’s army expecting us, what was I supposed to do? I figured the best way out for all of us was to at least get out of his camp.”
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