The Vale: Behind The Vale

by Brian D. Anderson

  Dropping to his knees, Drake continued firing into the flames until the P37 needed to be recharged. He had barely started to do this when a bullet pinged above, very nearly parting his hair. The first group were now maneuvering around on either side of him. He returned fire with what little mana he had so far managed to absorb, hitting his assailant in the throat. He then flipped on the manual switch just below the rear sites. Six shots...standard .45 rounds. He hadn’t fired an actual bullet in some time. The first round he let off went wide, but the second one was deadly accurate, thudding into the forehead of a man who was lying on his belly.

  Drake darted toward the next row of cylinders before they could completely outflank him, letting loose two more shots as he ran. One of these hit another foe in the chest, sending him down in an untidy heap. Violent stabs of pain accompanied each pace he took until he was at last back behind cover. From this position, he spent his remaining two rounds. Those attackers still uninjured were taking cover among other rows of cylinders and squeezing off random shots, keeping him pinned down.

  I don’t know what’s in these things, he thought. But I’m sure as hell about to find out.

  He placed a bloody hand on the surface of the one next to him. It felt solid enough. He increased the mana to the P37 and took aim at a cylinder two rows away from the main group of attackers. A stream of green light streaked out, hitting the target dead center.

  The explosion that followed was far beyond anything he had expected. At first, flames merely shot out from the point where the mana struck, but a second later the entire container erupted in a huge fiery ball of molten steel. Such was the power of the blast that it ripped through two more cylinders alongside in an instant, inducing the same devastating effect.

  Drake was sent sprawling more than ten feet. His head slammed into the stone floor, leaving him momentarily dazed. With all the strength and speed he could muster, he scurried up and ran headlong toward the still burning wall of flames he had created to stop the newcomers. Another explosion from behind then lifted him completely off his feet and sent him literally flying through the barrier. Only the speed of his passing saved him from serious burns. As it was, he escaped with nothing more than some superficial scorching. Landing on his side, he saw that he had already taken out all but two of the men who had rushed the room, and these were slumped on their backsides holding their heads after being thrown against the wall by the latest blast. Drake let off two quick shots before they even realized he was there.

  Large hunks of the ceiling were crashing down onto the floor as the chain reaction of blasts continued. Drake dashed through the door from where the reinforcements had entered and found himself in a small room filled with boxes and crates. Two more exits were on either side. With the ground rocking beneath his feet and no time to think about it, he raced over to the nearest door on his left. Just as he reached it, a woman staggered through. She was unarmed, and looked up at Drake with a terrified expression.

  “Don’t go in there,” he told her. She turned to run, but he caught her arm. “Where is the holding cell?”

  The woman stared back at him, for a moment speechless. “That way,” she then said, pointing to the opposite door. “All the way down.”

  “Show me,” he said.

  Though hesitating at first, she quickly changed her mind when he pointed the P37.

  She led him through a series of halls and small chambers. Drake was forced to shoot four people along the way; unlike his captive, they were all armed. He saw to it that the woman remained in front of him, so that anyone ahead wouldn’t recognize him to be an intruder until it was too late. Each time he killed, she glared at him with hatred and disgust. Only a fierce warning look and a wave of the P37 prevented her from trying to escape.

  The facility continued to tremble and the lights flickered repeatedly as yet more explosions erupted. The place was much larger than Drake would have thought possible. How Exodus had managed to build it without being noticed was beyond his understanding.

  Well, it damn sure won’t be here much longer, by the sound of it, he considered grimly.

  When they reached a thick steel door, the woman stopped. “The cell is in there,” she told him. “But I don’t have the key.”

  “Is there anyone inside?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “I’m just a researcher.”

  He locked eyes with her for a moment. She was telling the truth. “Go,” he instructed with a wave of his weapon.

  She did not need telling twice and started away at a dead run.

  He considered using the corrosive, but thought he might still need to use it on the way out. Instead, he channeled mana into his weapon and took several steps back. The shots to the hinges were precise, and the door landed in the corridor with a deep boom.

  To Drake’s relief, no one was waiting on the other side ready to shoot at him.

  Pain stabbed through his stomach as he took a step forward, doubling him over for a moment. Being gut shot was extremely serious if it had gone in too deep. His shoulder was also throbbing wildly. And to top things off, the wound to his leg might be superficial, but it was still hurting like hell.

  Fighting through the waves of pain, he staggered inside. Sitting on the floor in the far corner was a figure wrapped in a green blanket. His straight blond hair was covering his face and his knees were raised up to his chin. Even so, Drake knew him at once.

  “Your Highness,” he said.

  The prince did not bother to look up. “What’s happening out there?” he sneered. “Did your little hideout get discovered? I suppose you’re here to kill me.”

  Drake crossed over and held out his hand. “It’s me, Your Highness. It’s Drake. I’ve come to rescue you.”

  The prince raised his head. Bruises covered his face, and his right eye was swollen so badly that it was almost completely shut. He squinted at his rescuer through the left one. “Drake? Is that really you?”

  “Yes, it’s me, Your Highness. We have to hurry. This entire place is falling down around us. Can you walk?”

  The prince kicked away the blanket. His hands were shackled and his once-fine attire was covered in blood and grime. Even so, his voice was determined. “I’ll damn sure walk out of here,” he stated. Salazar’s eyes then fell on the blood covering Drake’s arm and stomach. “You’ve been shot.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Right now, we need to go.”

  The prince took Drake’s hand and then held up the shackles. “Can you get these off me first? They’re mana suppressors.”

  Drake was now glad he’d saved the corrosive. After producing the phial, he poured a small amount of its contents onto the chain. It only took a few seconds, and the two halves separated with a sharp pop and a spark.

  Salazar swung his arms around twice, enjoying the freedom of movement once again. “Let me look at your wounds,” he told Drake.

  “I’ll be fine until we get out of here,” he insisted. “Let’s get moving.” Another explosion punctuated his words.

  “How many men are with you?”

  “Just me, Your Highness.”

  “Then what the hell is all that commotion?”

  Drake allowed himself a smile. “It seems I was enough. Well, that…and apparently these fools have been messing around with vex crystals. Which brings me to a point. Is there another way out of here? I’ve a feeling that the way I came in might be blocked off.”

  “There’s a ventilation shaft not far away. I used it when I tried to escape just after I was brought here.”

  They exited the cell and wound their way through another series of corridors. After a time they passed a small group of people scurrying around inside what looked to be a laboratory. The prince halted, his hands suddenly glowing bright red. With his jaw tightly set and eyes ablaze with vengeance, such was the intensity of the mana he held that the shackles melted from his wrists.

  Drake was about to call out, but the prince unleashed his fury into the room
before he was able to utter a sound. A wave of mana fire leapt from his fingers, instantly spreading itself wide and consuming everything it touched. It was all over in seconds, and the stench of charred flesh filled Drake’s nostrils. The prince stared at his handiwork for a long moment, a satisfied grin on his lips. It wasn’t until Drake touched his shoulder that he looked away.

  “If you knew the terrible things they did to me…” His voice trailed off.

  “You don’t have to explain, Your Highness.”

  The prince smiled then nodded his appreciation. They soon reached a narrow passageway that twisted along for another hundred feet. At the end was a square ventilation shaft, its opening covered in razor sharp wire. Drake made quick work of this obstruction with a single shot. After looking up into the pitch-dark opening, he then fired a small bulb of illumination that struck the top grate nearly forty feet above. This clearly showed that the sides were smooth all the way up. There was nothing whatsoever to hold onto.

  He felt a hand tug at his shoulder.

  “Let me go first,” said the prince.

  Drake opened his mouth to object, but the prince raised a finger. “You’re hurt. And I sure as hell don’t want you falling on my head.” His hands started to glow. “Don’t worry. Last time it took me more than an hour. This time it will be much easier.”

  By now, Drake’s bleeding had almost stopped, the burning in his chest telling him that the mana was hard at work healing him. Even so, he needed to get the bullets out quickly. Particularly the one in his stomach.

  The prince thrust the top half of his body into the shaft. Drake could hear the hiss of mana as he watched Salazar’s feet slowly rise and then vanish altogether. When he was sure the prince was well on his way, he entered the shaft himself. His eyes immediately stung from the lingering fumes. The prince was burning handholds into the side of the shaft in order to pull himself up. Prince Salazar had always possessed an extraordinary talent for magic. It was widely speculated that, had he not been heir to the crown, he would surely have become a high mage. It did run in his family. But it had long since been determined that the royal family, unlike other nobles, should not study that sort of magic. It was simply too much power for one person to command.

  Slowly, painfully, Drake climbed, his injured shoulder feeling as if it were ablaze from the effort. By the time Salazar reached the top, the rumbling below had ceased and the last of the explosions faded away. It was a simple matter for the prince to blast away the grate. Once outside, he thrust an arm down to help Drake up the remaining distance.

  Drake lay on his back for a moment with a hand covering his shoulder. Before he could rise, he felt hands being placed on his stomach. The prince was drawing out the bullet.

  “I don’t have much skill with healing,” he said. “But I’ll do what I can.”

  By now, Drake was in too much pain to argue. He had lost quite a bit of blood. Were it not for the vex crystal in his chest, he knew for sure that he would never have made it this far. He sucked his teeth as the first bullet exited the wound.

  “You’re a lucky man,” the prince remarked. “Any deeper and I would have had to open you up.”

  Drake was about to thank him when a searing hot wave of agony shot through his body. The sickly-sweet scent of burning flesh surrounded him as the prince cauterized the wound. The shot to his leg hurt far less, and his shoulder was already in so much pain that he barely noticed the bullet exiting. The burning, however, was difficult to bear without yelping out in pain.

  Just as he was finished, they heard voices off to the east. The prince was on his feet in an instant, his face a mask of fury.

  “Forget about them,” Drake said, rolling to his knees and pushing himself up. “I need to get you away from here.” He took the prince’s arm. “Please, Your Highness.”

  Gradually, the prince turned to face Drake. “You are right, my friend. Let us leave this foul place. I assume you have a vehicle nearby?”

  Drake smiled. “Of course. And I think you’ll like her.”

  He led them down a path that avoided the main entrance to the compound. Though he doubted anyone would be able to escape that way, he didn’t want to risk that Exodus would choose to rally there. There was no way of knowing how many of them had survived, and Prince Salazar seemed determined to kill every last one of them he saw. Right now, all Drake cared about was getting him safely out of the area and back to Troi. The end was almost in sight.

  Though his wounds were still aching severely, they had now become manageable, and he was able to keep walking at a fairly quick pace. On cresting the hill where Cal was parked, he caught the sound of Linx humming softly to herself. She was stretched out on the car’s hood staring up at the stars.

  “You’re back,” she said, as if surprised he had made it. She squinted through the darkness. “Who’s that with you?”

  “A friend,” Drake told her. “Now get in. We’re in a hurry.”

  “You got it.” Linx hopped up and jumped into the back seat. “I guess all that noise I heard was you.”

  He removed his sword and placed it in the trunk, ignoring Linx’s question. A shadow moving in the corner of his eye then caught his attention. The prince was just reaching for the door handle.

  “Prince Salazar!” a voice called out.

  Drake’s hand shot to his weapon, but he relaxed as the figure drew closer. It was Bane. “How the hell did you find us?” he asked.

  “You know him?” asked the prince warily.

  “Yes. He was hired to –”

  The flicker of mana cut off Drake’s words. He made a dive for the prince, pushing him aside just as a fiery spear sprang from Bane’s outstretched hands. The spell missed, instead striking Cal’s door in the exact spot the prince had been standing only an instant earlier. Bundling the prince toward the front of the vehicle, Drake pulled out his P37. As he did so, two more spears smashed into the hood. For now, Cal’s tough body was able to withstand the punishment, but....

  Drake returned fire, only to see the shots dissipate before reaching Bane. This was a strong counter-spell. One Bane would have needed time to cast. And one that would take an exceptionally powerful shot to overcome.

  Bane waved his arms in an exaggerated circle, and the crackle of mana filled the air.

  “Get in the car,” Drake shouted.

  The prince did not hesitate, rounding the hood and jumping head first through Cal’s open window. Drake followed, firing the engine just as Bane let loose a devastating ball of mana energy. It hit Cal in the passenger’s side door, lifting the entire vehicle up onto two wheels. The second it slammed back down, Drake dropped her into gear and stomped on the accelerator. Another attack hit their rear end, causing them to swerve erratically. But Drake knew Cal well. He knew how to keep her under control, and after only a few yards had straightened her out and was leaving Bane behind in a cloud of dust.

  A small car was parked a few yards up ahead. Drake slowed just enough to fire a shot into its engine before speeding away.

  “Who the hell was that?” shouted Linx.

  “His name is Bane,” Drake told her.

  Chapter Twelve

  They drove in silence for a half an hour, Drake constantly checking behind them for any sign of pursuit. Linx leaned in several times, scrutinizing the prince.

  “How did you find me?” Salazar asked Drake.

  “Bane,” he replied. “He told me he’d been hired to rescue you.”

  “You were working with that maniac?” cried Linx. “You’re even crazier than I thought.”

  “You’ve heard of him?”

  “Bane? Who hasn’t? He’s Fisk’s top killer. The guy’s killed more people than I can count.”

  Drake did not respond. Linx leaned back in her seat, and the prince spent the next minute or so staring silently out of the window.

  “Are you all right, Your Highness?” Drake eventually asked.

  Salazar smiled over at him. “Yes. I’m fine. Just a bit
shaken.”

  “Your Highness?” Linx repeated, leaning forward once again. “I thought I recognized you. So that’s why you broke in?” She gave a loud sigh. “I knew I should have stayed behind.”

  Drake frowned. “You can get out now if you want.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until I’m far away from this mess. And you had better not try to dump me off somewhere.”

  The prince turned to face her. “You are quite…spirited, aren’t you? But please, do not be alarmed. You have my word that no harm will come to you. If you travel with Drake, I will consider you a friend and under my protection. Is that acceptable?”

  She regarded him closely for a long moment. “Just remember you said that if the magistrate finds us.”

  The prince smiled. “I see. A fugitive from justice no doubt. And what is your name?”

  “Linx.”

  “Well, Linx, as you already know, I am Prince Salazar. And seeing as how I am also a fugitive, I think you can count on my discretion.”

  “I should have already mentioned that,” Drake cut in quickly. “Your father has rescinded the warrant.”

  Salazar looked at him incredulously. “Are you certain of this?”

  “Absolutely.”

  A smile of relief slowly formed. “Excellent. So you see, Linx, staying with Drake was the right thing to do after all.”

  “And why is that?” she asked.

  “Because once we’re back in Troi, I can have you pardoned.”

  “About going back,” said Drake. “That might not be quite as easy as you think.”

  He went on to tell Salazar of the events leading up to his rescue. The prince listened with keen interest as the entire web of lies and deceit was laid bare, especially the bit about a bomb being hidden in the car.

  “I see,” he mused once Drake had finished. “So you think whoever is behind this might try to prevent me from returning?”