Chapter Twenty-Eight

Elizabeth staggered as a shot creased her shoulder. This knocked her off balance, slowing her down enough that the levitator was able to capture her in his translucent grasp. She felt herself being lifted off the ground, her arms being stretched out to her sides. It was agony added to the pain from the musket ball. A short, squat man with a full black beard and a black slouch hat approached her. Small explosions were popping in his outstretched hand.

“Time to show pretty a good time. Bamber’s got something special for ya,” he crowed. Elizabeth wrenched her arms free of the transparent bonds, staggering the mentalist, and reached for the approaching attacker.

“Don’t let her touch you, fool,” the six-armed man pulled his comrade away and spun him towards the house. “The freaks are getting away!” Using another set of arms, he pointed towards the side of the house, where Elizabeth could see a line of guests and servants running from the house into the woods. She saw her mother and younger sisters and was relieved that they were moving towards safety.

“Bamber, blow the house, before they all get away. Do it!”

Elizabeth raced after the little man, but he put his hands behind him and released explosions that propelled him forward faster than she could grab him.

Sir John came over the balcony railing, riding a sheet of ice. He tried to grab Bamber, but the little man slid under his outstretched arm and touched the ice sheet. It exploded throwing the Colonel, and the Captain following him, off their feet. Elizabeth ran past them in pursuit of the human bomb. “Stop the others. I’ll stop him.”

She concentrated on her legs, feeling her muscles balloon. She leapt like a frog, soaring over her target. She stretched out to touch him, hoping to paralyze him before he could threaten the house. He rolled under her reach and slapped the paving stones beneath her. They exploded upwards in a geyser of sharp stone shards. The multitude of cuts that shredded her skin began sealing before they even began bleeding. But she was knocked back several yards.

She landed facing where Captain Cleveland and the Colonel were battling with the two radicals. The Canadian released a screech that manifested as a solid blast of sound that the six-armed assailant barely managed to dodge. Unfortunately, dodging did not take up all his attention and he was able to draw and throw two knives, One the Captain avoided, but the other sliced his throat in passing. He fell to his knees both hands trying to hold in his life’s blood.

The Colonel was sending ice spears at the levitator, while the other man was throwing up translucent shields to block them. Their battle was oddly beautiful, though Elizabeth had no time to appreciate it properly. She turned back to her own quarry.

Using the cover of a wall of shrubs she raced parallel to him, managing to get between him and the house. Just before he reached the steps leading up to the balcony, he saw her and veered away, again narrowly avoiding her touch. His agility was not supernatural, but he used his explosive gift to aid in his maneuvers. Moving tactically, she managed to herd him back towards the garden. They were at a stalemate. Until another enemy attacked from above.

# # # # #

Darcy was getting frustrated. He had managed to keep the speedster and the strongman contained, as well as blocking the enemy musketeers. With the leaders incapacitated, the militia were slow to organize an effective counterattack, despite the fact that they outnumbered the radicals two to one. The red woman was closing on him.

“You tried to kill me. I’m going to return the favor,” she declared. “I’m going to burn it all!” She sent a jet of flames towards him.

“Not this time, witch.” Darcy replied. “This place is under my protection.” He parried her jet with a tight pulse of gravity. This distracted him long enough for the strongman to work free of Darcy’s gravity trap and fling the body of one of the militiamen at the crown magistrate.

Before the body hit Darcy, a giant hand at the end of an elongated arm caught the projectile gently enough that if the man was still alive, he would return to the earth in the same state. Sir William then turned to the attacker and said, “It’s you and me again. Think the end will be different?”

“It could happen,” the filthy man muttered.

Bingley reached out to grab the boy who had managed to get away from the previous battle. But the boy dodged and vanished, leaving a bloody slice along the gentleman’s arm. “No!” cried Miss Bennet. She slammed her hand in to the ground and geysers of water erupted all over the lawn. The invisible boy could be seen by the disturbance in the spray. Bingley pulled a length of leather cord out of his pocket and raced to the aqueous form and bound him securely.

“Look at me!” Flames engulfed Darcy, singing his clothes and causing excruciating pain. The red woman flew up to him and grabbed him by the throat. “You are so pretty, but you never had to fight like I did. That’s why I’ll win.”

# # # # #

Lydia Bennet had been enjoying the attention her panegyrical behavior had been garnering her. She was not fond of the muted colors required by half-mourning, but the catharsis of true grief she felt at the deaths of a friend and Captain Carter, a man she was convinced she might one day have developed feelings for, felt so good. Then, at the party so many had paid attention to her for behavior for which even her father and superior sister had not chided or mocked her. She had even considered if the black of full mourning would look better on her, though claiming that level of grief for a man she had no relationship to might have raised eyebrows. Then the killers had returned. Now instead of grief or fear, she was feeling anger. How dare they!

As her anger rose, her speed increased. She had almost reached the head of the column when she heard her boring Cousin Collins call out, “There are foes ahead! Beware!”

Charlotte held out her arm to stop her mother and Maria. She pointed her pistol at the woods, but a sword came out of the bushes and slashed at her arm, knocking he pistol free. Lydia was shocked when there was no blood from the attack. Another man charged into the gentle glow provided by Lady Lucas.

“No! No more!” Lydia exploded into action.

The man brought his musket to bear, bayonet flashing towards her. She seized the blade and yanked the weapon out of his hand. Grabbing the barrel, she shoved the stock into the man’s gut, sending him crashing back into a tree, from whence he slumped bonelessly to the ground. Using the musket as a club, she accosted the swordsman, batting his blade away and staving in his skull on the return swing.

A third man attacked from the flank, firing a pistol, which Charlotte threw herself in the path of, returning fire with her second pistol, which she had retrieved from her cloak pocket. Both shooters went down. Lady Lucas immediately stooped to check on her daughter. “I’m uninjured, though I will be in pain on the morrow.”

“That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen,” Mr. Collins said quietly to Charlotte. “I cannot sense anyone else in front of us, but we should probably keep going. I … I’ll take the lead.” Maria handed him the pistol that Charlotte had dropped.

Lydia’s father made his way to the front, cutlass in hand. “We have to keep moving.”

“Right!” Mr. Collins said.

Lydia fell back, still clutching the musket. Her anger flared higher. These scoundrels had her family running through the night. Attacking them! She looked at her hand, where she had grasped the naked blade of the bayonet. There was a line of blood down her palm. That just increased her rage. She was not going to run anymore.

She turned and sprinted back towards the back of the house, where her sister was fighting to save them. She was not over fond of Miss Perfect Elizabeth Bennet, but no one was going to hurt another of her sisters. No one.

When she rounded the corner, she saw a man hovering near the roof of the house firing blades of ruby energy at Lizzy while she sparred with a little man with flatulent hands and a six-armed monster. She threw the musket like a spear at the monster and grabbed the little man by the collar. She spun twice, the man flying off his feet, and heaved him at the flying attacker. The flyer dodged, letting the little man impact the corner of the house where the upper wall joined the roof.

Much to Lydia’s surprise the little man exploded, vaporizing half the roof and upper floor. Oops…

# # # # #

Darcy heard the explosion and saw the house quake in response, windows shattering and masonry crumbling. He had no idea if anyone had been hurt, though all he could think of was Elizabeth. His temper, barely held in check for the majority of the battle, finally slipped its frayed leash. He roared his anger into the night, sending out a massive gravity wave that slammed everyone in the yard, friend and foe alike, into the muddy ground.

The flaming redhead alone managed to avoid the fate as she unleashed her full power to keep herself in the air, the powerful jet of flame she sent beneath her washed over a group of militiamen and armed radicals locked in close quarter battle, cooking them in place. “No! I will not be brought down by you.”

Darcy groaned at the lives lost due to his momentary mistake. He could never afford to lose control. “Those are the last lives you will take. By the power vested in me by His Majesty, I sentence you to death.”

“One more death. Just one more!” She few at him, her blazing corona growing. He charged to meet her, his own shield of gravity sucking at the flames that licked out to engulf him. They clashed in mid-air, each grappling with the other; her burning hands reaching for his eyes when he took her by the throat in a one-handed grip, holding her at arm’s length. She clawed at his wrist as he throttled her. His gravity field protected him from most of her flames, but as they struggled in proximity he began to smolder and smoke as her heat overcame his protections.

A moment later a sharp crack resounded through the night. Darcy released the broken body of the fire witch, watched as it plummeted to the ground, then looked at his burned and blistered hand.

“Darcy!” Bingley’s voice drifted up from below, the massive gravity field attenuating the sound. “Release us!”

He looked down and saw his friend and allies were suffering from the crushing pressure as much as the attackers. He released the field, preparing to clamp down again on the extraordinaries and their associates.

The boy had produced a knife and cut through the bindings. He was speeding towards Miss Bennet, knife poised to plunge into her tender flesh; when a stone, flew from behind and took his head off. The body slid to a stop at her feet. All eyes turned to Sir William, who in turn was staring at the scruffy strong man as he dropped the other stone in his hand.

“Stupid bugger didn’t know when he was beaten,” the raggedy man said as he raised his hands high over his head. “I surrender.” This was repeated by the three surviving henchmen as they tossed their weapons to the side and fell to their knees.

# # # # #

Elizabeth stared at her sister for a moment, shocked by both her presence and her actions. The burning pain of a blade scoring across her back returned her attention to the fight at hand. The grotesque had readied himself with four blades and two pistols. He danced in and out, somehow keeping an eye on each of her hands, avoiding any touch, or taking her blows on his armored bracers. He fired the pistols during the exchange, but she used her superior speed to parry the barrels each time, taking only minor wounds that healed as the fight went on.

Finally, she realized the only way she would be able to overcome his numerical and experience advantage was to act in a way he would never expect. Rather than dodging or parrying, she threw herself onto one of his knives, taking a horrible cut on her left arm. But this fouled his rhythm enough that she was able to touch his arm. With that contact, she sent an impulse that paralyzed him from the neck down.

As he fell, he muttered a breathless “No!” and clenched his jaw, biting down. Elizabeth heard a snap, then smelled almonds.

Before she could reach down to stop the spread of the poison, a ruby ribbon from the flyer sliced towards her. She dodged and tumbled towards Sir John. He had his opponent encased in ice, though the levitator had the Colonel in his translucent bonds as well. Elizabeth continued tumbling, dodging the attacks from the flyer. She ended her maneuvers at the frozen levitator. She punched through the sheath of ice touch the man, putting him into a deep sleep.

This released the Colonel, who fell to his knees, trying desperately to catch his breath. “I took yours down, if you would be so kind as to return the favor…” She pointed to the flyer who was engaged with Lydia. While she had a moment, Elizabeth doffed the ruined frock coat and sprouted her wings. She took off towards the ruby flyer.

Sir John sent a storm of ice crystals at the man. He wove a ruby ribbon, which shattered the ice storm. Lydia was trying to fire a spent musket she had taken from a fallen foe. When it would not discharge, she hurled it, spinning end over end, at the ExtraOrdinary. Elizabeth flew like a raptor hunting a pigeon, swooping around the attacks from the ground and the crimson bands and blades sent out by the other flyer.

She swept past him, flying higher into the night sky, then, as he was once again engaged with the efforts of the others, she closed her wings and plunged down to engulf him in her widespread arms. On contact, she rendered him unconscious. They plummeted. Mere feet off the ground, she dropped her prey and spread her wings wide, slowing her enough to absorb the impact of the landing with her enhanced muscles.

Looking around, she saw all the attackers were down. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed to the ground.