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The Dogs of God

Page 50

by Chris Kennedy


  Whatever it was must have been important, though, as I noted a pair of lethal turrets attached to the ceiling above the mouth of the corridor at the far side of the room.

  “We’re nearly there,” Carlyn called as she stopped up short. She removed her helmet and focused icy eyes on me. “I do not know what your mistress is—”

  Carlyn trailed off, and her paladins began drawing weapons. I spun, and my heart sank when I realized what they’d seen.

  A dozen void hatchlings were marching up the corridor, double time. All were armed with blade and rifle, though more than one appeared to have been wounded. Void is the antithesis of life, and its hatchlings couldn’t use the precious healing magic we relied upon. It was one of our few advantages.

  The hatchlings weren’t alone, however. A half dozen Inurans in golden plate, much like mine, chatted amiably as they walked with the hatchlings. One, a tall man with waist-length platinum hair, said something particularly amusing that had all the hatchlings laughing in that hissing way of theirs.

  “I know him,” Carlyn snarled. “He was one of our best...until he wasn’t. Talas opened the portals that let them onto the ship and murdered his own brothers to do it. We have to take him down.”

  “That isn’t going to happen.” Patra’s quiet voice somehow smothered Carlyn’s rage, or the visible signs of it.

  The older paladin mastered herself, and I was impressed. I wasn’t certain I’d be able to see the source of my pain and not act rashly.

  “Now then,” Patra said, matter-of-factly. “Sek is going to delay them while you lead me to the bridge.”

  “Delay?” I blinked. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that was madness. I’d never even reach the enemy, much less kill any before they cut me down. There were too many. I turned back to Patra.

  “You will request a duel with their leader.” She folded her arms and fixed me with a commanding stare. “He will accept. He cannot and will not pass up the opportunity to slay a paladin of Inura, and he will take his time about it. All you need do is live as long as possible, not win.”

  “Prolong the fight?” My shoulders slumped. “As you command, Mistress.”

  “Lieutenant Carlyn, if you’d be so kind.” Patra nodded up the corridor. “We must reach the admiral, and seconds count.”

  “Kera, Veritan,” Carlyn barked suddenly, “stay with Paladin Seket. Witness his death.”

  Two paladins in golden armor trotted out of line and moved to flank me. Their crisp precision stiffened my resolve, and I turned toward my fate. The hatchlings and their Inuran allies weren’t aware of us, but they would be any moment.

  Now or never.

  “Voidspawn!” I roared as I began a slow amble in their direction. I drew my blade and flared the weapon with golden life magic, which I knew would sting their eyes. “I’ve heard tales. Tales that you’re not cowards. Tales that say you don’t need to ambush prey, that you can actually fight. Do you know what I think? I don’t believe them. You are weak. Cowardly. And you cannot win a fair fight. You will cut me down, afraid to face an untested paladin-elect like myself.”

  I was rather proud of what I imagined would be my final speech. I was by no means certain they’d accept. In fact, I thought it likely my words were accurate, and that they’d cut me down.

  “Inuran!” a deep, malevolent voice rumbled back. A large draconic hatchling stepped from the enemy ranks, his black armor gleaming in the light from my blade. “You have offered insult to my kind. You dare suggest we fear you. No. What we feel is contempt. You are weak. Pathetic. Easily cast aside, as we have proved. Your best and brightest have already defected to our mistress to seek her salvation. Your fleet lies in ruins. Soon, I will feast on your ruined body. But since you have asked for a duel, I will at least kill you honorably first.”

  Damn it. His monologue was way better than mine. I didn’t let it show, though. I advanced up the corridor with my blade and shield at the ready, a threat that could not be ignored, even by a hatchling.

  “All I’ve heard so far,” I taunted with as much contempt as I could muster, “is a whole lot of talk. Come and test me, voidspawn.”

  I had a feeling I’d live long enough to regret those words.

  “Stand clear!” the hatchling bellowed as he thrust an arm out to stay his fellows.

  He drew a falchion from a scabbard on his back, and I noted the blade gleamed wetly. I thought that was the most disturbing aspect, until I saw the writhing faces pressed up against the blade as if seeking escape.

  I glanced behind me at the turrets on the roof, but there was no help there. My two witnesses stood at attention, each with their hands wrapped around the hilt of their blade, the tip planted against the deck. They wouldn’t interfere.

  Crap.

  I braced myself as the hatchling began his charge. He flapped his wings to increase his speed, and wrapped both scaly hands around the hilt of that massive spellblade. The metal began to shriek as he approached, an eager cry, as if seeking...my soul.

  The hatchling leapt into the air at the last possible instant, and his wings flared behind him, his death shadow falling upon me as I stood my ground.

  A decade of training took over, and I shifted to the side, then dipped backward as the blade fell. My spellshield came up almost of its own accord and rapped the blade as it hummed toward my face.

  The movement and the deflection were just enough to knock the hatchling’s blow to the side, and it left the beast open to my counterattack. I swept my blade down and poured magic into the blade until it blazed as the sun.

  The life-infused metal sliced through the hatchling’s right wing about midway across, a superficial wound, but a painful one that would restrict his ability to leap and glide.

  The beast punished me with a scaled fist to the face that rocked my head back and shattered my nose, even inside my helmet. The paper doll representation of my armor flared yellow in the head, and I knew I’d be dead if that had connected without armor.

  A healing potion flowed from the loader into my bloodstream, and my nose knit back together, though I noted two of the loaders were now empty. I flipped back to my feet in time to hastily deflect another blow, but I executed the maneuver poorly, and the blade smashed into my shield.

  The hatchling’s much larger body knocked me flying, and I tumbled end over end as my armor struck sparks against the floor. More yellow spots appeared, and a red spot in the rear back. The armor wasn’t doing so hot.

  I flipped back to my feet, surprised to see that the hatchling hadn’t advanced. His companions, both the Inurans and the hatchlings, were laughing...and placing bets on how long I’d last.

  “Are you already giving up?” I roared, as if I’d come out ahead in the first exchange. I twirled my blade, then willed the magic within to blaze even brighter, a clear taunt to any voidspawn. “I mean...if you want to surrender, I’ll consider it.”

  “I tire of this unfounded hubris.” The hatchling stepped forward and flared his wings behind him. The torn one might not be capable of flight, but it was still an impressive sight. “You creatures of the light believe you are better. Stronger. Purer. You do not understand the darkness. The void. Entropy. It is far more insidious, far stronger than the light. Than your precious life.”

  With each word, the shadows around us lengthened. They deepened into true darkness, broken only by my blade. Yet that blade was very nearly smothered, the fierce radiance now a weak flickering candle threatened by a stiff wind as the hatchling’s magic took hold.

  I unholstered my spellpistol and shot him in the face with a light bolt. The spell didn’t do much damage, but it distracted the hatchling long enough for me to charge. I ducked low and came in with a slide, then snapped my blade up right before I slid underneath him.

  If my plan had worked, I’d have disemboweled him, and probably made a huge mess on my armor. Unfortunately the hatchling had other ideas.

  “I do not think so, little paladin.” The hatchling grinned dow
n at me, and the void flared in his slitted eyes, purple and malevolent. His tail shot out and wrapped around my legs, then yanked me up into the air. “I can’t help but notice your helmet seems to be damaged.”

  Then he brought me down with all the force an angry dragon can muster and smashed my helmet into the deck. It cracked down the center, and my HUD flickered, then died entirely.

  I could now view the world through a tremendous gap in my faceplate. One that any spell, and likely the very next blow, would easily penetrate. I had to end this. Now.

  My sword was still clutched weakly in one hand. I tightened my grip and brought it around in a wide slash designed to sever the tail.

  Unfortunately that tail was still wrapped around my legs, so the hatchling quite wisely smashed my face into the deck again. My helmet shattered, and black spots ate huge chunks of my vision. I blacked out entirely for a moment, but then the warmth of the third and final potion woke me.

  I blinked awake with a gasp to find the void hatchling’s gaping maw looming large in my vision. A slitted eye moved before my face as the creature studied me.

  “Somehow you live.” The tail jerked me backwards, and he held me upside down a couple meters out of reach. He shook me violently up and down until my sword tumbled loose to the deck with a metallic clatter, leaving me with nothing but my shield. “Much better. Now we can have a proper conversation about respect before I...end our discussion.”

  “Why?” I rasped, and I was only half faking. A desperate part of me prayed to the Maker that he’d want to gloat for a while.

  “Why did we turn on you?” The hatchling’s smile grew, and he pulled me closer, until my upside-down head was opposite his. “Why do the stars crack and die? Entropy is inevitable. We are inevitable. We will plunge this entire galaxy into war, and we will revel in the destruction.”

  “Yeah, but...why?” I rasped. I didn’t dare glance up at the turrets, which were pointedly ignoring my prayers that they intervene. I had to keep him talking.

  “You paladins are the shield of the dragonflights.” The hatchling pulled me still closer, until his awful breath washed over me. “Your very purpose lies in preventing exactly what we have done.”

  Shield of the dragonflights. Shield. I still had my shield attached to my wrist.

  More importantly, I hadn’t yet called upon the Maker that day. As a part of our covenant, I gained access to miracles, though they must be used sparingly. One of those miracles could have caused my shield to flare with the holy light of my god. The light that these animals most feared.

  I prayed to the Maker, and his strength moved within me. My shield flared with its own inner light, the blue-white sigils strengthened by Inura’s own light.

  My captor cringed and raised an arm to shield his eyes. In that moment, I struck. I twisted around and slashed at his throat with the edge of my shield. The runes were pure magic, and with the added strength of Inura, their magic formed the very antithesis of this Void Wyrm.

  The shield sliced through scale and flesh and bone, a deep wound that fountained dark blood all over my shield and my armor. The hatchling responded with an agonized screech...but his grip didn’t slacken.

  “Not the face!” I winced as the deck rushed up at me.

  He slammed me face first into the deck, then did it again, and again. At the apex of each strike, I tugged at the magic in my chest and used it to heal myself.

  It wasn’t enough.

  After five hits my magic was gone, my face was a ruined, bloody mess, and I could no longer see anything but vague blurry shapes.

  “Izz—zzat all you got?” I rasped.

  The world spun drunkenly around me, and I landed in a painful heap. It took several moments to realize where I was, crumped at the base of a wall, my armor shattered and broken. My face was in worse shape.

  The hatchling had one clawed hand wrapped around the wound in his throat, and the other dragged the tip of the falchion along the ground. The blade scraped a path closer, begging to end my life and add my soul to the others in the dark metal.

  That was really going to suck.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 6

  If this were a story, the turrets would have opened up and gunned down not only my falchion-wielding buddy, but all of his friends. But this isn’t a story. And in real life, if you want to win, you have to save yourself.

  There is no nick of time.

  I closed my eyes and reached deep, drawing at the life magic within me to heal my wounds a final time. Some of them, at least. My vision cleared, and I was able to climb to my feet.

  The hatchling was still a few meters away, and as he approached, I realized he wasn’t moving slowly because he was gloating. He was wounded. Badly wounded.

  Blood slicked his neck, chest, and arm, running down scales in thick rivulets that somehow burned my eyes to look at. What I’d taken for a menacing, lazy approach was merely the fact that he could barely hold his sword.

  “You will die now, little maggot,” the hatchling choked out, his eyes suddenly narrowing to slits as he approached.

  “Maybe.” I held my shield before me and waited on the balls of my feet. “Looks like all I have to do is outlast you. I mean, unless you have a spare healing potion around...”

  He bared a sea of fangs and hissed, but didn’t respond to my taunt. His friends had gone silent and now watched with a mixture of horror and disbelief. Humans weren’t supposed to beat hatchlings, even ones that had gotten in a lucky shot, as I had.

  “I...will,” he wheezed, the speech broken by a cough, “...end...you!”

  His blade came up, and he found the strength to hold it in both massive hands, but the blade wobbled as it hadn’t before. The surety and swiftness were gone.

  What remained was brute strength.

  The hatchling brought his sword down upon me, but I rolled out of the way, then back to my feet a meter away. I forced him to chase me around the room, slowly losing blood, and more importantly, fulfilling my directive of delaying the hatchlings.

  It felt like I’d been fighting for hours. Wasn’t the bridge only a few hundred meters up the corridor? How long did that take to traverse? Still nothing from the turrets.

  The hatchling launched another swipe, this one with more strength. I parried with my spellshield, which knocked me back a step, but I was able to backpedal away before the hatchling could take advantage of it.

  The other hatchlings were beginning to catcall their companion in draconic, which I didn’t speak well, especially not the gutter version they used. I caught the gist though. End it now, or we’ll end you and the human.

  The hatchling was displaying weakness, and all aspects of dragon felt the same way about that. If he couldn’t end me, and do it quickly, he’d have lost, even if he survived the wounds I’d delivered.

  That was some small comfort. If my companions never reached the bridge, if we failed here, at least this bastard would pay some small bit of restitution.

  A high-pitched whine sounded from behind me, and I glanced up to find both turrets suddenly active. Their barrels swiveled, then stopped as each found a target. I glanced down and smiled when I realized their target was my already dying friend.

  About depths-damned time.

  Both turrets opened up with a hail of void bolts, as lethal to dragons, apparently, as they are to us. Huge sections of his face and body simply disappeared into explosions of particles.

  The process spread, and his entire body dissipated as if it had never been. Not even the armor survived.

  The turrets pivoted toward the mass of hatchlings and Inurans, who’d only just now registered what had happened. They turned to run, almost as one, but it didn’t save them.

  The turrets discharged spells faster than I thought possible, void bolt after void bolt cutting down fleeing hatchling and Inuran alike. A few survivors made it into the darkened corridor, but most died shrieking.

  When it was over, I sagged to my knees and sucked in huge
lungfuls of precious air. Every part of me ached, and I’d been wrung out, magically speaking. That had taken everything I was capable of giving.

  “Your sword, Paladin.” A golden gauntlet appeared in my limited field of vision, and I looked up to see one of the two witnesses, a woman in golden armor.

  I accepted the blade and sheathed it while still sitting. I wasn’t sure I could rise to my feet just yet. My whole body trembled as it sought to process everything that had just happened.

  “When you are ready,” the woman who’d handed me my sword said, “I will escort you to the bridge. They await our arrival.”

  I wobbled to my feet, but got through the moment of vertigo where I wondered if I was going to fall. I could do this. I turned to face the paladin who’d helped me. “I am ready.”

  She wrapped a hand around me and helped me move through the chamber to the mouth of the corridor where Patra had disappeared. I noticed she didn’t offer to heal me, and wondered if that was a gesture of respect. I think I’d rather have been healed, though I didn’t say anything.

  The walk to the bridge took forever, but eventually we passed out of the field of fire for the turrets and into the final corridor. It led us to a simple, unrelieved black door, which flowed into the wall at our approach.

  The liquid motion reminded me that this vessel was very much alive. Could he, or she, or it, see us right now? What a fascinating thought. Every creation of the gods, if given enough time, would eventually grow to sentience. Why not these ships?

  I limped through the final doorway and onto the bridge, which was...well, a bit disappointing. A single spell matrix stood in the center of an empty room with black walls. Purple sigils, the void itself, danced across the walls, and I could feel the power there. The opposite of my own, but unthreatening all the same.

  Patra knelt next to a badly wounded hatchling, who sprawled against the wall opposite the matrix. He wore a strange set of armor with a braided surface that reminded me a bit of muscle. An ornate and powerful silver staff was clutched in one clawed hand, its tip a dragon in flight. An artifact that pulsed with power, beyond any I’d ever born witness to.

 

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