Cloak of Dragons

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Cloak of Dragons Page 3

by Moeller, Jonathan


  Errors in a summoning spell were a bad, bad thing.

  A dozen anthrophages prowled through the shadows along the walls, making my hair stand on end, and the maelogaunt itself stood motionless behind Ricci and his men.

  The creature wasn’t all that large, at least in this form. It stood only five feet tall, shorter than even me, and was cloaked in a loose gray robe with a cowl. Grayish-green tentacles writhed from the ends of its sleeves, and I couldn’t see its face, but I knew that would be a mass of tentacles. Maelogaunts could change shape and cast spells. They primarily fed on memories, but they could also consume life force, and some of them came to prefer it.

  Of course, for all its power, the maelogaunt couldn’t see through a Cloak spell. I was ten feet away, and the creature had no idea that I was there.

  I settled in place, my mind clear, my breathing slow, my will maintaining the Cloak spell and holding my magic.

  “Yes,” said Ricci, turning a page. “Yes, you’re right. We can do this. We should be able to summon up more maelogaunts. But we’ll need sacrifices.”

  Coleman rubbed his jaw. “What do you think? The restaurant?”

  Ricci shook his head. “No. Not from the restaurant or anyone connected to RFS. Too many disappearances near us and Homeland Security will realize something is wrong. Or one of the local Elven nobles will come after us.”

  Coleman snorted. “Homeland Security. They couldn’t find a dead rat on a white tablecloth.” Based on my experiences with Homeland Security, he wasn’t wrong. “And the Elven nobles. We’re going to replace the Elven nobles.” A strange, intense glitter came into his eyes. “We’re all going to be rich, and we’ll have whatever we want. Whatever women we want.”

  Ricci gave him an irritated look. “And none of that will happen if we can't find sacrifices for the summoning and binding spells.”

  “I offer a suggestion, master.”

  The maelogaunt’s voice was a hissing, gurgling rasp. I suppose if it had wanted, it could have taken a human shape and spoken in a voice of melodious beauty, but it didn’t bother. Probably it had too much influence over Ricci and his men already for them to care.

  “Yes?” said Ricci. “What do you think?”

  “The anthrophages you have bound,” said the maelogaunt. “Send them to seize victims and bring them there.”

  Ricci and his men shared a look. I considered his position and the location of the Shadowlands creatures throughout the warehouse, and then walked between the table and the summoning circle.

  “The night workers at the airport, maybe?” said Coleman.

  “Yeah.” Ricci rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, that could work. No one would notice right away. It would take a few days for any sort of investigation to get rolling.”

  “The anthrophages would move with great stealth, master,” said the maelogaunt. The tentacles in its cowl twitched. “There would be no link between the victims and you.”

  “That makes sense,” said Ricci. “We’ll do that.” He turned, his eyes narrowed, and beckoned. The anthrophages prowling along the shadows of the walls turned and loped towards him, claws rasping against the dusty concrete of the floor.

  Right about then, gunshots rang out.

  The anthrophages whirled, turning towards the open warehouse door. Ricci took a step back, reaching for the pistol inside his coat. Coleman snatched up an M-99 from beneath the table, and the other men followed suit. The maelogaunt turned as well, its tentacles lashing with agitation.

  None of them were looking in my direction, which was perfect.

  I dropped my Cloak spell and gathered as much magical power as I could hold. Seven whirling globes of sputtering, snarling lightning came to life around my fingers, and I shoved my hands out. The sudden light made the maelogaunt and the men start to turn, but it was too late. The volley of lightning globes howled from my hands and slammed into the maelogaunt.

  I didn’t hit the maelogaunt hard enough to kill it, sadly. But I still hit it with a lot of force, and my attack had been a sucker punch. None of the maelogaunt’s defenses were ready, and my spell hurled the creature backward, lighting crawling up and down its body and making its tentacles thrash like whips.

  Ricci raised their weapons, but I was already casting another spell. They had made a basic combat mistake – don’t stand together in a bunch in the open. Though to be fair, they hadn’t expected a fight, or retribution for their misdeeds to catch up to them. I cast the ice wall spell, and a wall of rippling white mist erupted from the floor between us. Except I bent the wall, wrapping it around Ricci and his men in a cylinder, and it hardened into a six-inch-thick wall of granite-hard ice. A gun went off, and I heard the bullet whine and ricochet, followed by a scream of pain.

  You can shoot your way through one of my ice walls, if you have enough ammo, but doing it when the wall is six inches in front of your face? Not smart.

  With Ricci and his men temporarily out of the way, I turned my attention to the anthrophages. Which was good, because a dozen of them were racing towards me from all directions. A memory blazed to life inside my head, shocking with its intensity and vividness. I remembered standing in the Eternity Crucible, killing anthrophage after anthrophage after anthrophage until they overwhelmed my strength and ripped me apart. On good days they had killed me quickly, slashed through an artery, so I bled out swiftly. On bad days, I lasted for several more minutes while they ripped me open and ate me alive.

  And then when I died, the Eternity Crucible reset, and I got to do it all over again.

  That isn’t great for your sanity, and it had left me with a black hatred of anthrophages.

  I couldn’t tell if I was snarling or smiling. I didn’t want to kill any people…but I had no problem slaughtering anthrophages.

  Silver light flashed around my hands, and I cast the Splinter Mask spell. It was a variant on the Mask spell I used to disguise myself. Instead of wrapping an illusion around me, the Splinter Mask spell projected the image and splintered it.

  A dozen illusionary duplicates of me appeared. It was always unsettling to see a perfect copy of yourself, let alone a dozen of them. I just had time to think that my face looked sharper than I remembered, my eyes crazed, and then I sent a mental command to the illusions. Some of them charged at the anthrophages, while others stood in place and began casting spells. The rush of anthrophages towards me faltered, distracted by the duplicates.

  In that moment of distraction, I summoned more power, and then I started killing.

  I cast the lightning globe spell again, and I summoned five more spheres. I sent them screaming across the warehouse, the harsh light casting stark shadows against the walls, and the five spheres struck different anthrophages. The lightning killed some of them, stunning and burning others. More magic blazed through me, and I cast a different spell. A thumb-sized sphere of fire whirled to life over my hand, and I sent it hurtling at the anthrophages with an effort of will. It zipped towards them with the speed of a bullet, and it struck the nearest anthrophage in the center of its forehead.

  The sphere was so hot it drilled a tunnel through the anthrophage’s head.

  Naturally, that was instantly fatal.

  Another effort of will, and the sphere looped around, zipping back and forth through the anthrophages. I killed six more before the sphere’s power unraveled, and the dead anthrophages fell to the floor. Shadowlands creatures killed in the material world eventually dissolved into black slime which evaporated in a few hours, but for now, I was surrounded by the carcasses of dead anthrophages. It was another grim reminder of the Eternity Crucible.

  The maelogaunt recovered from my lightning attack and distracted me from the black memories by casting a spell of its own. Purplish-black light flared around its tentacles, and the creature gestured, flinging the full force of its will at me. I had seen a maelogaunt use a spell like that before. It would reach into my mind and lock me in a waking dream constructed of my own worst memories.

  Given what my me
mories contained, that was a disturbing prospect.

  I reacted at once, casting the Shield spell. A half-dome of shimmering golden light appeared, charged with the energy of the regeneration spell that Arvalaeon had taught me. Shield spells deflected attacks, and the easiest way to do that was to charge the Shield with a form of energy opposed to the incoming assault. The maelogaunt’s spell slammed into my shield, and it blazed with golden fire. Pain stabbed through my skull as my will struggled against the maelogaunt’s spell. I was strong, but so was the maelogaunt, and for a moment my Shield spell wavered.

  Then my Shield spell winked out, but the maelogaunt’s spell collapsed as well, canceled out by the opposing forces. I staggered back, but so did the maelogaunt, and I recovered sooner. I summoned power through my increasingly tired mind and cast the Cloak spell. The silver light flashed around me, and I disappeared.

  The maelogaunt responded, blue-white light flashing around its tentacles as it began another spell. I recognized the light as I sprinted towards the creature. The thing was casting a Seal of Unmasking or some other spell designed to collapse illusions. If it covered the warehouse floor with a Seal of Unmasking, I wouldn’t be able to use any illusion magic within its circumference, which would be annoying and possibly fatal.

  But I wasn’t going to give it a chance to finish the spell.

  I ran up to the maelogaunt and dropped my Cloak just as it reached the end of its spell. The maelogaunt whirled to face me, tentacles lashing like whips. Barbed, poisonous suckers covered those tentacles, and even without them, the maelogaunt was strong enough that it could squeeze my head right off my shoulders.

  But none of that mattered because I finished my spell a second before the maelogaunt would have killed me.

  I cast the Elemental Blade spell, and a glowing sword as long as I was tall appeared in my right hand. It looked like it had been made from liquid flames, and it was a torrent of elemental fire bound within a magical construct. I stabbed the glowing sword and slashed up, and the blade plunged into the maelogaunt’s stomach and ripped its torso and its head in half. There was no blood since the blade instantly cauterized the massive wound, but there was a sizzling sound, a lot of smoke, and a vile smell.

  The maelogaunt made a keening noise that cut off when my sword sliced through its head. The tentacles lashed like whips, and I jumped back, the Elemental Blade dissolving into nothingness. The maelogaunt went limp and collapsed to the floor with a slithering, squelching noise.

  I took a deep breath and stepped back, and a wave of deep fatigue rolled through me. I had used a lot of magical power in a very short time, and it was catching up to me. I wanted to lie down, close my eyes, and sleep. But the fight wasn’t over yet. I sucked in a deep breath and turned, pulling together more power for a spell. Riordan and Nora were still fighting in the courtyard, and they needed my help. Alex was an asshole, but I supposed I would help him as well.

  But the fight was already over.

  The three Shadow Hunters strode into the warehouse. Nora and Alex both had their M-99 carbines in hand, and I smelled cordite as they approached. Riordan’s Shadowmorph blade extended from his right hand, a black slash in the air. The Shadowmorph symbionts gave the Shadow Hunters superhuman strength, healing, and longevity, but they could also manifest as weightless swords that capable of both killing Shadowlands creatures and cutting through nearly anything.

  “Hi, guys,” I said. “This party venue is terrible. We should go somewhere else next time.”

  Yeah, my mouth runs away with me when I’m scared or tired, and I was tired. And I wasn’t scared, not quite. But the fight had reminded me of the Eternity Crucible, and that made something dark flicker in my mind.

  Riordan almost smiled. “I won’t argue.” He glanced at the maelogaunt, which had started to dissolve into black slime. “The maelogaunt?”

  “Cooked,” I said.

  Alex gave the dissolving creature a startled look and then turned a wary glance in my direction.

  “And Ricci?” said Riordan, taking a deep breath.

  I gestured at the cylinder of ice. “In there. Along with three other men. They were helping him prepare the summoning spells.”

  “Under the terms of the writ of execution,” said Alex, “their lives are forfeit as well, Riordan.”

  “I know,” said Riordan. Alex and Nora put away their guns and summoned their Shadowmorph blades. “Nadia?”

  “Careful,” I said. “They have guns. Um. I think they tried shooting their way through the ice, and one of them might be dead from the ricochet.”

  “You heard her,” said Riordan to Alex and Nora. “Be careful.”

  “I’ll see if I can startle them a bit.” I pulled magic through my tired mind, and a fireball whirled to life over my hand. “Ready?”

  The Shadow Hunters nodded, placing themselves around the cylinder. I focused my will and flicked my wrist, and the sphere of fire leaped from my hand and touched the ice. The cylinder shattered with a loud crack and fell in a rain of splinters to the floor.

  As it turned out, two of Ricci’s men had tried to shoot their way out of the cylinder, and both of them had been killed by ricochets, one through the head, another in the heart. Ricci and Coleman were still alive, and as the ice fell, they raised their guns, ready to fight.

  But it was too late for them. Probably it had been too late ever since they had summoned up that maelogaunt and agreed to help it find victims. Alex and Nora stepped forward, and with identical fluid motions, plunged their Shadowmorph blades into Coleman and Ricci.

  The two men groaned, fell to their knees, and died.

  At least it was quick. Probably a lot quicker than their victims, who would have died screaming as the anthrophages tore them apart, or as the maelogaunt feasted on their minds…

  A shiver of black memory went through me, and I shoved it down hard.

  Nora and Alex dismissed their Shadowmorph blades, and I saw the faint quiver shoot through their limbs. Their Shadowmorphs were feeding on the life forces of the men they had just killed, and the symbionts transferred some of that life force back to their hosts as speed and strength and vitality. Riordan had told me that it felt euphoric and could be addictive. In fact, Shadow Hunters who could not control themselves, who killed people without proper writs of execution, were killed by other members of the Family.

  That was what had happened to the woman Riordan had been with before me. Sasha had been a new Shadow Hunter, and she had become addicted to stolen life force, which basically meant she had become an insane serial killer. Riordan had been forced to kill her to stop her. I could see that fear reflected in his eyes sometimes when he looked at me.

  Though I suppose I inspired different sorts of worries.

  I kept looking at the shadows, holding my magic ready to strike. That was because I was being sensible and watching for any anthrophages and wraithwolves we might have missed. Not because my mind kept flashing back to the Eternity Crucible. Nope, that wasn’t it at all.

  “You guys okay?” I said, looking back at Alex and Nora.

  Nora looked at me, and her eyes turned solid black for a moment as her Shadowmorph finished digesting its meal. Then the darkness cleared, and her eyes turned their usual dark brown. “Quite well, tigress, thank you.”

  “That always puts me in the mood for a woman,” said Alex.

  Nora snorted. “What doesn’t?”

  “You have the writ?” said Riordan, voice grave.

  Alex’s humor subsided at once, and he nodded and reached into a pocket of his tactical vest. He drew out a sealed envelope of heavy paper and laid it atop Ricci’s corpse. Within the envelope was the writ of execution for Ricci and his accomplices for the crime of summoning Shadowlands creatures, commissioned by Duke Mythrender of Manhattan. Riordan would make an anonymous call to Homeland Security, and that would be that. Ricci’s murders would be solved, and Riordan and the Shadow Hunters would move on to their next commission.

  They had gone
through a lot of commissions lately, and I expected more to come. The detonation of the Sky Hammer in Venomhold had weakened the boundaries between Earth and the Shadowlands, and it was easier for creatures from the Shadowlands to slip through.

  Or to be invited through, like Ricci did.

  “Well, that’s done,” said Alex. “Let’s go get paid.” He glanced at me. “Though we have to split the fee with our consultant.”

  I gave him a flat look. “You don’t want my help, you’re welcome to do this yourself.”

  “No, no,” said Alex with that easy grin that didn’t touch his cold eyes. “I have to say, Mrs. MacCormac, this went really smooth. The shit usually hits the fan at least once on this kind of job. I can see why the Elves started calling you Worldburner.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I really hated that nickname.

  “When I’d heard that Riordan had gotten married, I wasn’t sure what to expect,” said Alex as we stepped back into the warehouse yard, “but you seem like exactly the sort of woman he needs.”

  I was pretty sure he was attempting to insult both of us in some sort of subtle way, but I had stopped paying attention. My eyes scanned the stacked pallets, watching for any enemies. I knew there were none left, but my mind refused to relax.

  “Thank you for that relationship advice,” said Riordan, and Alex snorted. “Go bring the van up, and we’ll get out of here. Better pull it into the yard, so no one sees us get inside.”

  “Come on,” said Nora, and she and Alex jogged into the street.

  I stood alone with Riordan.

  “Thank you for helping with this,” said Riordan. “It went a lot easier than I expected. Without your help, it would have taken more Shadow Hunters, and some of them might have been hurt or killed.”

 

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