Rook_Revenge

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Rook_Revenge Page 13

by Michael D. Young


  Phillip knelt down and placed his hands on Rich’s shoulders. He closed his eyes, and Rich felt strength flowing into him. His father had used his healing power, and now Rich felt strength return to his muscles. "Come on. Aaron needs backup.”

  Rich handed one of the key tips to his father, who fastened it on his blade. Together, they ran down the stairs, going as fast as they could toward the approaching Gigantaurs. Before becoming first a pawn and then a rook, Rich would not have listed running as one of his strong suits, but now with the extra power given to his body, he tore up the space between them like a seasoned sprinter.

  Working as one, he and his father engaged the Gigantaurs and took two more down, one of them causing a distraction while the other found the keyhole. No sooner had they taken the two down than the rest retreated again.

  Rich looked over his shoulder to see if Aaron had made any progress. He saw, to his horror, that the Master Gigas had raised its hand and was going to bring it down hard on Aaron, who was lying on his back. In moments, he’d be crunched between the monster’s hands.

  Aaron held his blade straight up in front of him and made no attempt to move. In the other hand, he held the skeleton key. Rich got ready to use his castling move, but he heard Aaron call out, "Don't try to save me, Rich. I know what I'm doing!"

  Rich didn’t feel so sure. Had Aaron taken too many blows to the head? In any case, Rich couldn’t just stand by and watch his friend get ground into powder. He took a deep breath, but his father put his hand on his. "Listen to him, son. Remember, he's actually much older and wiser than either of us.”

  Rich clamped his teeth together, unable to look away as the Master Gigas slammed down his hand on top of Aaron. Rich flinched and fought back tears. Why had Aaron done that? Why would he just let himself get killed for nothing? It didn’t make sense. Rich turned to look away, but his father snapped him back into place. "Look! He did it! That old rascal—he did it!”

  Rich looked to see what his father meant and saw the stones of the creature falling away, crumbling as though they were made of dominoes, with one block falling and knocking out the next portion.

  Its arms crumbled one at a time down one shoulder and across its chest until it had spread everywhere. Rich saw Aaron leap away just as the hand crumbled beneath him. He ran to escape the falling debris and managed to get to the stairs as another dust cloud enveloped the floor.

  Rich ran toward his friend and caught him in a hug about halfway down the stairs. "I thought you were dead! Don't do that to me again!"

  “Rich, are you forgetting something? I am dead. I can take risks like that, and yes, it would be very unpleasant to be destroyed when I'm like this. It would prevent me from coming back to the mortal world for a very long time. But when I saw that the keyhole was in between two of his fingers, I thought there might be no other way."

  The other Gigantaurs in the room fell to their knees and then to their faces, lying motionless as the entire room shook, cracks appearing in the floor, walls, and ceiling.

  Rich’s father winced, looking frantically from side to side. "My guess is that the maze didn't like that. Or whoever's in charge. I haven't really been able to figure that out."

  He turned to Aaron, pointing to the skeleton key. "A bunch of others were trying to leave the maze with me. We need use the key to unlock their cells and leave as quickly as we can.”

  Rich looked around, but didn't see any other cages. When his father started off down the stairs, he followed. Aaron handed Phillip the key, and they dashed toward an archway carved into the wall. It looked as through someone had traced the outline of a doorway in the stone and had simply forgotten to actually put a door there.

  When Phillip extended the key, a portion of the wall gave way, opening up into a small cell. A handful of young children and teenagers clad green and yellow robes ran out. Not taking time to explain, Philip opened the entire line of doors, revealing an entire tribe of tanned, dark-haired, robe-wearing people.

  Phillip pointed in the other direction. "Get them back up to where you entered!" he called over the rumbling and cracking around them. "There’s a portal there we can use to get back to the entrance.”

  Rich could see the ground around his father cracking, and when he looked up, he caught sight of a jagged boulder plummeting toward his father’s head. Rich castled to his father’s side and pushed him over a moment before the huge boulder fell in his place.

  “Press the key to the wall,” his father said, a bit out of breath. “The portal will open. I've got to help Takka, the chief “

  Aaron and Rich led the group toward the far wall, the older ones helping the younger ones along. Without missing a beat, Aaron took several young ones on his back, rushing up the stairs like a horse.

  Rich followed right away, starting with the youngest groups and leading them through the debris for the other side. He used his paladin shield and extended it as far as he could, trying to protect the children from bits of the roof that had begun to break off.

  Sword in hand, he cleared a way for them, glancing back over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure they were all keeping up. The ground shook violently beneath them, knocking some of the younger ones over. Rich turned and reached down to pick up to the smallest and carry him under his arm. He could feel his strength draining away again. His father's boost would only take him so far. The steps crumbled before them and provided one of the biggest challenges.

  Most of them were cracked and lopsided, making it easy to trip. He couldn't sprint up them without watching every step. He glanced down at his father and some of the adults in the tribe who were bringing up the rear, barely keeping ahead of a widening crack in the ground. Many of the adults made the leap across seconds before the chasm grew too large to span.

  Rich made it to the top with a few children, set them down, and ran back so he could grab two more. He saw his father reaching down into a pit to save a teenager who had fallen in. Another wide rift formed on the stairs, and Rich had to castle to keep a young girl from falling to her doom.

  Rich watched the stairs, waiting to see if someone was in danger farther up so he could use his castling move again. A young man tripped and lost his balance, and Rich took the opportunity both to rush to his side and steady him. This also brought him most of the way up the stairs. He ran the last few steps and slammed the key against the portal. Before he could take another breath, the entire wall became a vortex of swirling blackness.

  In the next moment, he found himself in the entrance hall with a few dozen children and teens, having fallen to the ground.

  New arrivals came every second, and Rich continuously looked around the room, anxious to find his father. The vortex continued to swirl behind the gray knight, who seemed oblivious to it all. More and more came, but still, Rich’s father was nowhere to be seen.

  The vortex shrank, closing in on itself, first to the size of a man and then a basketball. It had shrunk to no more than a baseball when his father appeared in the room. Within seconds, the vortex shrank to a pinpoint and then vanished completely.

  Rich ran to his father. "Dad, what happened?"

  Phillip shook his head slowly from side to side. "Chief Takka … I … tried. He was trapped too securely. Then he told me to run—I barely made it."

  A wail went up from the others at Phillip’s words, many of them banging their chests and tearing their clothing. Everything suddenly went silent as the gray knight smashed his sword against the ground. "Silence. I must ask you all to leave immediately. You’ve caused quite enough trouble for today. Because of you, the entire balance of the Corridor has been thrown into chaos. Perhaps balance can be restored, but it will never be the same. Be gone, all of you!" No sooner had the knight spoken than Rich found himself back i
n the cluster of trees.

  Chapter 17: In Check

  Rich smelled smoke. The forest hadn’t been on fire when he left. He looked around, but couldn't see the source of the blaze. "Follow me!" he called to the others, leading them back in the direction of the car. He didn't know what he was going to do once they got there—there was no way he could cram all of them into the sports car.

  Rich wished Aaron had made the far more practical choice of a bus or something. Then he realized, maybe he could. It was much easier to change a thing into something that was closer to its original nature. For example, it was much easier to turn the car into a bus than to turn the car into a piano.

  Rich presented the thought to his father as they ran through the woods. "I'm going to have to give you some more energy, what little I have. You have to concentrate on keeping it intact. Something that big will not be easy, and it will be pretty bad if it reverts to being a little car while speeding down the freeway."

  They reached the edge of the clearing, and Rich froze, spellbound at what he saw. On the way, they'd seen a city in the distance. Now the city glowed, flames consuming every part of it and sending huge, billowing black clouds into the night sky. "What’s that?" Phillip asked. "Are we at war?"

  Rich shook his head, barely able to take in what he was seeing. He shook his head harder and harder until he thought it might fly right off. Just then, a mailbox popped up in front of him, looking like it had been carved from the same wood as the trees around him.

  "That's one of your mother’s mailboxes," Philip said, pointing to it. "I’d know it anywhere!"

  Rich wasted no time opening the box and withdrawing a single sheet of paper. It contained only a short bit of text and his mother's handwriting. Rich, run. Run with all you have. The balance has been broken. Don't go home—don’t even try. Find the sanctuary.

  Rich shoved the letter in front of his father's face and the man paled, clutching the note. "This is all my fault," he said.

  "What do you mean? How could this possibly be your fault? You've been stuck inside the Corridor."

  Phillip nodded, carefully folding the paper over and over until it fit into a pocket. "Jezreel was my nemesis. She was trapped, and I let her go. For a time, she helped me, but you know how they are. They will always betray you. She escaped before I did, and the balance between families was broken. This is all my fault!" He fell to his knees, holding his hands over his face and groaning.

  Rich looked off into the distance. In the burning city's heart, he could make out smoky shapes, long, sinewy, writhing creatures that looked as though they’d been made from smoke and flame.

  His breath quickening, Rich pointed his father in that direction. Phillip gave an audible gasp. "Those are fell chariots," he said. “Great flying creatures of shadow and flame that the knights of Nemes use as their steeds. We must run. If they capture us, all is lost."

  Philip reached out and clamped his hand on Rich’s forearm. Rich felt an enormous burst of energy surge through him before Phillip collapsed. Rich understood what he needed to do. He ran to the car and placed both hands on it, using the power of his mind to reshape it into a large bus. Rich felt dizzy as the bus took form, but even before it was finished, Aaron was already yelling at the members of the tribe to pile in as tightly as they could.

  “Aaron, you think you can drive this thing?" Rich called to Aaron as he ran past.

  "How hard can it be?" Aaron yelled back.

  Rich helped his father to his feet, and they were the last two on the bus. He tried not to think about anything else, but as Aaron started up the bus and took it back toward the main road, he felt a steady drain on his energy.

  He laid his father down on one of the front seats and stared out the window. To his horror, one of the fell chariots changed direction, stopping its circular flight of the city and turning toward them. "Aaron, gun it! Get us to the sanctuary!"

  Aaron grunted, and the vehicle put on a bit of speed, Rich could hear the engine straining, carrying so many passengers. He toyed with the idea of a bus with rocket engines or something, but figured that might get them blown up.

  The flames approached, gaining on them every second. "Does anyone have the healing power?" Rich called back. "I'm gonna need more energy.”

  A couple of the older boys stepped forward, each of them giving power until they could barely stand.

  Rich refined the image of the bus in his mind, making it the newest model with the best engine, fresh off the factory floor. The seats became a lot more comfortable, and the bus picked up speed, but it wasn't enough. The fell chariot was going to catch up with them, and then they would have to turn and fight. This was Rich’s worst nightmare—facing the dark knight with dozens of innocent children as bystanders.

  "Stop the bus!" Rich cried out.

  "Are you sure? I thought we were trying to make a getaway."

  Rich forced his way to the front doors. “Stop the bus, let me get off, and then keep going. Take these kids to safety."

  Aaron clenched the steering wheel tighter for a few seconds, then brought the bus to a screeching stop, and Rich jumped off. He watched the bus leave, then turned to face his opponent. He hoped the bus would hold up long enough to get everyone to safety. He strengthened the image, just in case.

  With the extra energy the other knights had given him, Rich felt more alive than ever, but he couldn't shake the sense of dread threatening to overwhelm him. He hadn't even been able to beat his nemesis in the Duel of Sixty-four. What made him think he could take on an even more experienced dark knight? He drew Zahn and stood his ground. The chariot approached in a curling, undulating pattern until it stopped about twenty yards away. Even from a distance, Rich could feel the pulsating heat given off by the creature, and could smell acrid smoke.

  Rich called out, holding tight to his blade. "You wouldn't know anything about fighting these things, would you, Zahn?" he asked his sword.

  "Only that they are twisted creatures, and fierce as they come. I've seen other paladins use healing power to tame them to great effect.”

  Just then, a figure jumped off the fell chariot. It carried a long sword, and was clad in black armor that gleamed with reflected firelight. The dark knight approached, sword raised, until it was only a few paces from Rich. The knight reached up and lifted its visor to show Mallory's grinning face.

  "How do you like my new ride?" she asked. "Oh, and the new outfit? On my side, they reward victory quite handsomely.”

  Rich raised his sword. "So, are you ready for round three?" he asked. "I took you down, you took me down—let’s break the tie."

  Mallory threw back her head and laughed, the sound bitter and mocking. “I'm actually not here for that. Our duels have become tiresome. No, Richie, that’s not why I’m here. You see, as much as I disagree, my superiors think they have need of you."

  She stretched out a hand and held it palm up. “Having you on our side is one of their top priorities. Apparently, you have something they need, though your guess is as good as mine as to what."

  Now it was Rich’s turn to laugh. "Yeah, not gonna happen. I see what happens to people when they join the dark side. You know that never ends well. Maybe you need to watch more movies or something."

  Mallory rolled her eyes and withdrew her hand. "Yes, I thought you might say something stupid like that, so I wanted to let you know that I've provided a little incentive." She began pacing and counting things off on her fingers. "First, you're so attached to your little town and your little job and your little school . . . guess what? Those don't exist anymore. I burned them to ashes myself. They’re going to have to redraw a lot of maps and take off a lot of names.”

  Rich couldn’t help but flinch. Could it be t
rue? He suddenly felt nauseated. "You're lying!"

  "Secondly, your friends. You don't want to join me because you're worried about what your friends will think. Luckily, you don't have all that many to convince."

  Rich tensed, desperately hoping that whatever came next was also a lie. "I knew they would be no good dead, so they are alive for now. All of them."

  Rich’s mouth went dry, though he breathed a bit easier. "Who do you have?"

  Mallory cocked her head to the side, continuing to pace. “Well, there's that adorable Aunt Laura of yours and her daughters. You know, she put up a bit of a fight. And there's that sweet little girl you took to the dance. Angela, was it? She was so excited to go with you, Rich. No glasses for the first time. Guess she really wanted to make an impression."

  Mallory jerked to a stop and snapped her head so she was looking directly at Rich. "Oh, and then there’s Nadia. Now, isn’t she something? A real-life Sleeping Beauty. You know, I see a little bit of myself in her. She's also a fighter, and someone who doesn't like to lose."

  She started pacing again in silence. Rich’s trembling hand clutched his sword, and he didn’t know what to say. Faced with dark knights, none of his friends or family would be able to put up much of a fight. Mallory could be bluffing, but Rich’s instincts told him she wasn't.

  "Don't you dare hurt them. My fellow knights and I took down a Master Gigas today. After that, you shouldn’t be much of a problem. We'll see how fast the balance can swing in our favor."

  She brushed him off with an armored hand. "Please, enough with the heroic speeches. I know it's a big decision, so I'll give you twenty-four hours. Then I’ll visit you again for your answer."

  She approached him now, the smirk never leaving her face. "I know you've never been to a nemesis stronghold, but let me tell you. As part of the training to become a dark knight, they have you endure some of the … oh, let's call them what they are—tortures that we could inflict. I speak from experience, you know?" She removed the gloved gauntlet to expose her forearm, which was covered with a web of long scars.

 

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