by Rick Scott
“Rem!” I shout. “Stop shooting them and shoot at the angels. Shoot as many as you can!”
He looks over his shoulder at me like I just lost my mind. “What?”
“Just do it!” I say, buffing myself with Shadow Haste and Shadow Tendrils. “No time to explain! Just trust me!”
The cyberpunker wheels in a 180 and unloads on the groups of angels gathered on the tip of the island about fifty feet away. I buff myself with Shadow Copy as five or six of them glide across the expanse, heading straight for Rembrandt.
I dash in to intercept, using a War Cry. “On me!”
I Charge Strike into the lot of them and spin in a flurry of attacks to land a couple of hits on each one. With my 200-plus Agility, I manage to peg all six of them before they can even react. By the time they do, I’m already away and headed towards Ziegfried and his army.
I can’t see Ziegfried. But I know he’s in there somewhere. Issuing the commands that will seal our doom—or so he thinks…
No way that’s happening today.
I pour on the speed and rush to the battle line.
“Reece!” Val Helena yells through the party chat. “What are you doing!”
“Making us some allies!”
She pauses as if lost for words and then says, “What?!”
“He’s going to mob train them…” Aiko says, sounding almost proud. “Damn good thinking, Reece!”
Aiko catches on to my plan quickly. But as a fellow Dodge Tank I probably shouldn’t be too surprised. I run straight into the area where the Battle Mages are bombarding the ground with AOEs. I lose my shadow but all six of the angels following me get hit by the blasts as well.
The Battle Mage uses Firestorm.
Your shadow absorbs the attack!
The Labyrinth Keeper takes 537 damage!
The Labyrinth Keeper takes 534 damage!
The Labyrinth Keeper takes 541 damage!
The Labyrinth Keeper takes 535 damage!
The Labyrinth Keeper takes 542 damage!
The Labyrinth Keeper takes 539 damage!
I roll out of the fray and watch my handiwork as the six Labyrinth Keepers fly into the ranks of Ziegfried’s army, seeking out the mages who struck them. Their screeches fill the air and battle horns sound as the soldiers reposition to fight the angels instead of us.
Yes!
“Now’s our chance!” I cry. “Break through while they have their hands full!”
“Which way?” Aiko says.
A good question. Both sides, left and right, seem packed with the same amount of soldiers. But then I notice something else. The pattern on the tile has gone static and there’s no longer an option to head back the way we came.
“Ziegfried locked the tile,” I say. “We’ll need to use a Warden’s Key to shift it back.”
“No,” Rembrandt says, looking back and forth between the tiles quickly. “Head to the right. Up to the same platform they were on.”
What?
“But that’s probably where they want us to go!” Val Helena says. “There are still some of them up there!”
“It’s the way we have to go,” Rembrandt says. “The fastest route to the center is through there. And we don’t have many keys left.”
He’s right. I only have a Warden’s Key and one Labyrinth Key left myself.
“Enough talk!” Maxis shouts, brandishing his fists. “We fight through this. Go!”
My brother takes off in a charge, not waiting for a response, and I instinctively follow after him.
The giants are tanking the angels now, with the soldiers jabbing into the winged, elf-like creatures from behind. Although they’re distracted, we still can’t just punch through all these guys. We need to sneak our way through. I cast Shadow Wall while still on the run and we vanish from sight.
“I got the key to unlock the line,” Aiko says. “I’ll use it when we get close!”
As we approach the wall of surging bodies I wonder how we’ll even see each other in all this chaos. But then I discover I need not have worried. As soon as we charge into the line of soldiers, stray bumps and nudges strip us of our invisibility spell. I try cloaking us again, but it’s to no avail.
“Just fight through!” Maxis shouts, laying his fist into a soldier’s face.
The poor guy loses three-quarters of his hit points from the hit and then Maxis finishes him off with a spin kick to the head.
You gain 2700 experience points.
The sight makes me check my own HP.
HP: 744/1732
Crap! I haven’t regained much at all. I need to be careful not to get hit in this fray. I cast Shadow Copy for good measure and begin attacking the soldiers from behind as we press through their ranks. Most of them are thankfully distracted by the angels and only a few are alert enough to fight back. But I lose my shadow almost immediately from a stray hit and then take a couple of glancing blows from who knows what.
You take 134 damage!
You take 74 damage!
I wince with the hits, but we fight through, taking down as many of their men as we can. Val Helena is going non-stop with her axe, looking like a war goddess on a rampage. Soldiers fly into the air from her big upward swings, knocking them around like bowling pins. Rembrandt keeps close to her back, picking off the guys while in mid-air and finishing them off.
You gain 2700 experience points.
You gain 2700 experience points.
You gain 2700 experience points.
But our progress comes at a price. I watch as the HP bars of my teammates slowly slip into the yellow and mine into the red. We’ve got to break through this soon!
“I’m using the key!” Aiko calls through the party chat. “Jump now!”
I can barely see the edge of the platform, much less the line leading to it, but I trust that Aiko has it unlocked. I take out a couple more soldiers as I press through the throng, clearing a path and finally jump off the edge to freedom.
Or so I hope!
My vision zooms and I land on the surface of the platform that was, just a second ago, high above us.
“About time you got here, whelp,” a familiar voice greets me.
I turn in the direction of the voice just in time to catch a boot to the face.
You take 97 damage!
HP: 374/1732
Ow, geez!
I immediately use Retreat, tucking myself into a roll. When I back away I see Ziegfried with a platoon of perhaps fifty soldiers and a half dozen mages all poised to cast. My friends who perhaps jumped through the mob ahead of me are now standing in a state of shock a couple dozen feet away.
“Damn it!” Val Helena curses through the party chat. “Figured something like this would happen!”
“Take it easy,” Aiko says. “We’ll figure something out.”
“There are too many of them…” Rembrandt says, lowering his pistols. “Too many.”
Maxis, however, glowers at Ziegfried with clenched fists. “I’m going to bury you and your men, Ziegfried. Count on it.”
But at a third HP and facing mages, even my brother has to know it’s an empty threat. We’re in no condition to fight right now. Val Helena is breathing heavily, her health halved and her stamina nearly drained. Rembrandt is in much the same condition. Only Aiko looks a bit better off at 70%. But the real issue is the positioning. We’re hemmed in again and at point-blank range this time.
We’re ducks in a barrel.
“Nice trick you pulled,” Ziegfried says, smirking at me. “But it’ll gain you naught.” He then looks to the mages. “Kill the others but leave the boy. Braxus has plans for him.”
“What?” White-hot anger fills my stomach like acid. This can’t be happening! “You can’t do this to us!”
Ziegfried scoffs. “Watch me.”
The mages begin to chant and their palms glow.
No…
Battle Mage readies Crystal Spear.
Battle Mage readies Crystal Spear.
Battle Mage readies Crystal Spear.
Battle Mage readies Crystal Spear.
Battle Mage readies Crystal Spear.
Battle Mage readies Crystal Spear.
My heart jumps into my throat as I prepare to watch my friends and brother die!
“NO!!!”
A piercing whistle splits the air, causing Ziegfried and his men to fall to the ground, covering their ears. I do the same as a massive crash resounds behind me with the sound of breaking glass.
The Labyrinth Spirit!
I brace for impact, but then realize it’s not us that’s been hit, but the bulk of Ziegfried’s army on the tile below us. I don’t waste time to look down at them, to see what I know must be the gigantic mermaid creature now rising up through the platform.
I cast Shadow Wall instead.
“Everyone run!” I shout through the party chat. “Run while they’re distracted by it!”
I take off with Sprint, dashing through the line of shell-shocked mages. I don’t know if my friends are doing the same, but I pray they are. I run with all my might for the far end of the platform where a static red line is pointing.
“Did everyone make it?” Rembrandt calls. “Say something if you’re here!”
“I’m here,” Val Helena says.
“Me too!” I say. “Mike?”
“I’m here!”
That just leaves Aiko. I’m about to call for her but she speaks on her own.
“Way ahead of you all! Who still has a Warden’s Key? We need to shift this pattern so they can’t follow us again.”
“I do!” I say and materialize the key in my hand.
“May not need to even worry about that, mate,” Rembrandt says, becoming visible as he slows to a halt while turning around. “Look!”
I stop and glance over my shoulder. Ziegfried and his men haven’t moved an inch. They’re stuck, mesmerized by the sheer size and unfathomable destruction of the Labyrinth Spirit. And I can’t blame them. Even seeing it for a second time I’m stunned by both its beauty and raw power. It moves as if in slow motion, the remnants of Ziegfried’s army and the glass shards of the platform bouncing off its shimmering body before slowly being absorbed.
“Nice move, Reece,” Aiko says, appearing next to me. “Those angels you pulled must have been enough to summon that thing again.”
“That actually wasn’t part of my plan at all,” I say. “But I’m not going to pass up another Hail Mary.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Val Helena says, letting out a sigh.
The Labyrinth Spirit spins in a roll and then dives back down below our line of sight. And then Ziegfried and his men immediately start running in our direction screaming.
Uh oh….
That can only mean one thing.
“Run!” I shout. “It’s coming for us next!”
We make a mad dash for the edge that’s a mere 50 feet away. I jump off the ledge and into the expanse and get swiftly teleported to the adjacent tile. I hit the deck with a roll and then spring to my feet. I look about to make sure all my friends are with me and feel a wave of relief when I see everyone present.
I then glance behind me, just in time to see Ziegfried and his small platoon get to about halfway across the tile before the Labyrinth Spirit bursts through with another earsplitting wail. Glass and men go flying as the tile shatters and the huge mermaid goddess surges upwards with tremendous force.
I feel a slight dissonance as I watch it. Ziegfried is gone. And while I feel no remorse for him, a dullness enters my soul when I think about all those soldiers who just died with him. And all because they were simply under his command. It makes me once again think about the damage a single person can cause if they’re left unchecked at the top.
People like Braxus.
“Looks like we really don’t need to worry about him following us,” Maxis says with a grimace of disdain. “Good riddance.”
I guess my brother has no qualms about it. And perhaps I shouldn’t as well.
But still, my heart aches a little.
I need to set things straight with Braxus sooner rather than later, and for more reasons than to just quell my pain. But I have bigger priorities first.
I check on Gilly’s timer.
27:56
“We need to go,” I say and turn about to head toward the silver sphere. “We need to find Becky.”
Chapter 11: Weakness
Bruce sat across from his wife at the dinner table, his supper untouched.
Barbara hadn’t said much more than two words to him the entire evening. Heck, it might have even been the entire day. He watched as she slowly sipped her pumpkin soup, her green eyes staring vacantly into her bowl.
God she looks so much like Gilly, he thought. Or perhaps, Gilly looked like her was more correct. Bruce sighed inwardly. Even in his grief he couldn’t stop being Mr. Accurate. He stared at his wife for over a minute, but she refused to make eye contact with him.
The distance was palpable.
“I think we need to talk about it,” Bruce said.
Again Barbara didn’t answer and instead kept sipping her soup.
“Barb…”
Finally, she looked up. “What’s there to talk about, Bruce? Our daughter is dead.”
The words froze inside his chest.
Barbara grimaced and kicked back her chair from the table with a loud creak. She collected her bowl hastily from the table and then stepped into the kitchen, slamming it into the recycler.
Bruce opened his mouth to say something to her, but words failed him.
She stormed out of the kitchen and a few seconds later the bedroom door slammed.
Bruce cradled his forehead within his hand releasing a sigh. Maybe he never should have told her about Gilly’s present condition. But then how could he not? Her words echoed in his mind and made his stomach sick.
She actually went and said it.
Our daughter is dead.
His eyes welled. Had Barbara accepted it already? Dear Lord... he couldn’t even think about it. Muffled sobbing drifted down the corridor. They weren’t dealing with this well. How could they?
How could they handle losing a child like this?
How could anyone?
The thought sat bitter in his gut. How many times had he made those grossly impersonal calls to random families, informing them that their loved one had finally succumbed to the symptoms of their ‘synaptic overload’?
Lies, all of it.
Now here he was…swallowing one of his own bitter pills.
His communicator rang and he checked the ID.
Dennis.
What the heck did he want?
Bruce was about to cancel the call, but then thought against it. Knowing Dennis, he’d simply call back until he got through. Bruce rubbed the half-formed tears from his eyes and cleared his throat before answering. “Yes, Dennis.”
“Bruce. Did you get my message?”
“What message?”
“On when we can reconvene the emergency session. The report is in. I sent it an hour ago.”
What the heck? Bruce checked his messages and indeed saw the emails from Dennis, the file for his report attached. “Dennis, I just became aware of this. I haven’t had time to even look at it. And I thought you said it was going to take you eight hours?”
“Guess I overestimated. So when will you be ready to meet? An hour? I’ve already confirmed with the other board members. They’re ready to meet now.”
What the devil was this nonsense? “Dennis, I just got this information. I’m in no frame of mind to—”
“Time is of the essence, Bruce. I don’t have to remind you how many nanites we’re burning a minute, do I?”
Bruce clenched his jaw with irritation. “Yes. I’m quite aware.”
Dennis’ tone then softened a bit. “Look, Bruce. I’m doing this for your sake, you know?”
“What?”
“I was hoping you would read between the lines, but if we�
�re going to send another team to check on what’s happening to Gilly on the surface, then this is the only way.”
Was he really doing this? Using his daughter against him? Anger flared in his gut and Bruce readied some choice words—but then stopped himself. Years of practiced restraint as a politician quickly brought him down a notch or two. He had to think. A game was afoot here and he’d nearly just lost it.
Dennis had once again set things up to throw Bruce off balance—put him on the backfoot and force him into a reactionary state. Dennis knew that was his weakness too. Bruce was a planner. Given enough time and information he could make good decisions—he knew that. He also knew the opposite was true. Although he would never shirk from making a quick decision if circumstances called for it, it just might not be his best one.
Dennis had seen it in the meeting. He had seen his purposeful stalling for time. And he’d set a trap. He told him eight hours, knowing full well it’d be nothing close to that. Heck, knowing Dennis, he might have had that report written from years ago. He lured Bruce into a false sense of ease, made him think he had successfully kicked the ball down the field.
And then he’d sprung this trap—a miraculous turnaround time plus calling all the other board members in advance. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dennis had already chatted their ears off with his proposal and this meeting was nothing more than a dog and pony show.
But there was more than one way to win a game.
Making your opponent believe they’d already won was especially effective. And when it came to someone as cocky as Dennis, particularly so. Bruce had to do just that. Keep playing. Let Dennis believe his manipulation was completely unseen. Only then would he have an opportunity to see what he truly had up his sleeve.