Chapter 29 – Blazing a Trail

Cat searched the depths of her being for whatever dregs of anima she had left. There wasn’t much. Not enough for a spell of any significance.

Using up every bit of anima in one’s system could carry dangerous consequences. Loss of consciousness, internal hemorrhaging, anima burns, or worse. She skirted that line when she scraped together enough raw energy for one last spell.

She kept moving despite the light-headedness and the numbness in her feet. She needed just a bit more time.

“Running like scared little mice,” Drakemyth said over the stomping of his power rig as he pursued them through the dark. “This is putting a bitter spin on the conclusion of our time here. I suppose it’s too much to ask, but I do wish you’d stand and fight until the end.”

“Sure thing, fuck nugget,” Cat said.

She skidded to a stop and raised her hands, palms forward, towards the sound of his rig.

“Ljisa!” she shouted.

A blinding beam of light radiated from her hands, forming a narrow pillar that lit up the giant armored suit.

Drakemyth let out a cry and stumbled back a step, the power rig groaning with the sudden movement.

“Now!” Cat cried, maintaining her spell as long as possible. “Frost, you’re up!”

The pale lubbard snuck up behind the minister in the harsh light of the spell and jumped onto his back. He held on by the seam around the neck and began pulling at cables and wires.

“Mm, this looks important,” Frost said, severing a cable which led from the power rig up into the ceiling. The spotlights abruptly switched off, plunging the chamber into darkness, then every light in the room came on all at once, dozens of them, and illuminated the entire place.

Cat blinked at the sudden light, letting her spell fade away.

Drakemyth’s power rig sparked and the limbs jerked spastically. With a hoarse cry, Drakemyth reached back and grabbed hold of Frost, throwing him over his head. Frost flew several meters and landed in Cat’s arms with a breathy ‘oof’. They both ended up on the floor. She was too exhausted to get back up.

“Aeva, your turn!” Cat said.

Aeva settled into a low, predatory crouch opposite Drakemyth. The archon tried to point his weapon at her, but his power rig jerked unpredictably. His aim went wild.

Aeva leapt several meters into the air, trailing flames, leaving deep grooves in the floor. She flew in a wide arc, descending rapidly towards Drakemyth. He put up his rifle arm to intercept her, but she tore straight through it in a dazzling burst of molten metal and sparking enchantments. She barreled into his torso, and her horns sank deep into the armor. The power rig toppled and hit the ground with a loud crash.

Aeva pulled herself away and stood upon the molten chest of the fallen giant.

“Surrender now, and I will grant you a quick death,” Aeva said, chest heaving.

Drakemyth just smiled. “Oh, I haven’t reached the bottom of my bag of tricks yet.” He reached out with his one remaining arm and picked something up off the floor.

It took Cat a moment to realize what it was.

The fallen Crown.

He brought it to his visor where it fit into a custom slot. With a twist, the Crown was firmly secured. Electricity crackled between its brass points.

Aeva raised her fist, arm catching fire all the way up to her elbow, eyes burning red like coals.

A rumble shook the floor, the mountain itself. The light fixtures swung wildly.

Aeva brought her fist down.

A crack of lightning came down through the ceiling, striking Drakemyth like a lightning rod. Aeva was thrown off, Gisa’s flaming mantle peeling off her. She hit the ground, motionless, her right side raked with snaking electric burns.

Drakemyth shambled back up, his rig alive with bolts of silver lightning that danced between the limbs.

“I would have preferred to do some more testing before attempting this, but it appears to have worked swimmingly,” Drakemyth said, examining the energy coursing around him with a curious eye. “Seems I won’t need those reinforcements after all.”

He pointed his remaining hand at Cat and Frost.

“Now you will die like the insects you are.”

Another lightning bolt discharged, thick as an oak, straight into Drakemyth. It painted the entire chamber a stark white, blowing out Cat’s vision. The archon’s scream was quickly drowned out by the rolling rumble of thunder which bounced off the walls, echoing seemingly into infinity.

Cat blinked rapidly and rubbed at her eyes. It took several moments before the light began to fade from her retina. A ringing in her ears sent her teeth chattering. Drakemyth’s power rig had been reduced to a smoking wreck, split down the middle with many of the pieces thrown off to the sides. The old man fell out onto the floor, clothes blackened, part of his white hair singed off.

The Crown rolled off the remains of the rig, coming to a stop against Aeva’s leg.

Hunter approached the archon, the tip of his sword dragging on the ground. Drakemyth tried to get up, but Hunter placed a foot against his back and pushed him back down.

“You were one of the Concord’s greatest warriors, once,” Drakemyth spluttered. “Why would you betray our nation like this?”

“The fact that you don’t know is reason enough to kill you,” Hunter said.

He swung the blade. Drakemyth’s head came clean off. It bounced across the floor, eyes and mouth wide with shock. His biomech eyeball jerked around for several moments before growing still. The severed neck pumped blood onto the blackened stone.

Hunter stood above the corpse, perfectly motionless. “It’s over.” He almost sounded disappointed.

“Drakemyth mentioned reinforcements,” Cat said. “We need to get out of here.” She tried to stand up, but her legs gave out and she fell back down.

“No complaints there,” Frost said. “I’m sick of this place already.”

***

Slowly, one limb at a time, Aeva got up on her hands and knees. Gisa’s influence burned away some of the pain, but her entire right side felt like she had been rammed by a kalyach. Her midsection radiated hot agony.

She reached for the Crown next to her, dull and plain. The cool metal against her fingers filled her with a euphoric sense of accomplishment. She had come so far for this. Lost everything. But now it was hers once more.

Emboldened by her victory, Aeva managed to stand. She held the Crown in both hands, examining it with a close eye. It looked no more auspicious than the first time she had seen it, nor had it sustained any damage from the fighting. Not even a scratch.

A useless bauble, Gisa’s voice echoed inside her. You do not need it.

Aeva ignored her. Despite her cunning in matters of war, in this, she had no authority.

When she tried to lift the Crown to her brow, she encountered unexpected resistance. Her body stiffened with the force of another, fighting her for control of her own limbs.

Gisa.

She was trying to prevent her from donning the Crown.

With great effort, Aeva placed the Crown on her head, and the resistance faded away. White bands of intricate scripture fluttered out from nowhere, wrapped themselves around her and lifted her off her feet. They searched her being, prodded at her soul.

Aeva held her breath. She dared not hope…

You are not worthy.

She was dropped back to the ground with an unceremonious thud, and the heavenly bands dematerialized. The Crown was left atop her head as nothing more than a silly trinket.

I told you, Gisa said. You do not require the Moon-King’s power. He is old and greedy. Take mine instead. I will elevate you. Under my tutelage, you will claim the vengeance you so desire.

Aeva hesitated. She removed the Crown and looked at it. Nothing. It had given her nothing, even after she had worked to fulfill Gjurin’s command, to integrate herself with the humans and work alongside them.

“Aeva, hurry the fuck up!” Cat shouted from across the chamber. “Reinforcements are coming! In a minute or an hour, I don’t know, but I’d rather not stick around to find out which!”

“Y-yes, of course,” Aeva said, forcing her mind back to the present. She fastened the Crown to her belt and limped after Cat and Frost as they began to make their way out of the room.

“I’m not leaving,” Hunter said. “I’ve got what I came for. My purpose is complete.”

Frost turned back, frowning. “What do you mean? Stop being a goof and come along.”

Hunter ignored him. He got down on his knees next to Drakemyth’s corpse and unfolded a pistol from his arm. His chassis opened to reveal his glowing soul core. He put the barrel to the glassy orb.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Frost called. “Don’t do that, now!”

“No need to mourn me, enchanter. I was dead from the start.”

A shrill noise grabbed Aeva’s attention and she spun around to face it. A whorl of dark energy expanded inside a metal frame at the back end of the room, near the elevator. It cleared up into a mirror-shine surface ringed by black, showing another location.

A portal.

A human in a black suit stepped through, followed by four truthers in black coats and round hats armed with assault rifles.

Aeva had never seen the man before, but she knew who he was without needing confirmation.

She began to back away.

“Oh dear, what a mess,” Couldess said as he walked into the chamber, polished shoes clicking on the floor.

“Run!” Cat shouted. Her and Aeva made their way towards the door, dragging Frost with them. The truthers opened fire, bullets raining around them.

She glanced back to see Hunter rising up, tanking multiple rounds as his chest closed back up. He fired his pistol at Couldess, but one of the truthers jumped in front of him and took a bullet to the heart. Whether out of loyalty or compulsion, Aeva couldn’t tell.

“I’ll hold him off,” Hunter said. “Go, all of you!”

Frost lingered in the doorway.

“Just come with us!” Frost shouted. “Come on!”

Hunter didn’t budge.

Cat pulled the lubbard by his sleeve, forcing him into motion.

“We have to go,” Cat said. “We can’t fight Couldess. Not without Linton. If we stay here a minute longer, we’re all dead.”

Hunter looked back briefly. “You can let go now, Frost. You… were a good friend.”

Frost’s face screwed up and his legs began to buckle. Aeva reached in under his armpits and hauled him over her shoulders, ignoring his feeble protests.

They ran.

***

Hunter smiled inwardly as he approached Couldess and his cohorts. He fired a few more rounds and took out another truther. They fired back, but their bullets only dented his armor.

His pistol clicked empty. He threw it aside and brandished Greytusk in both hands.

“The construct,” Couldess said, smiling coldly as he sauntered towards Hunter. “You know the most annoying thing about your kind? Your minds don’t work the same as humans. Gives you a natural resistance to psychomancy.”

“Lucky me,” Hunter said.

“I wouldn’t count yourself lucky just yet. I don’t need psychomancy to kill you. My combat skills could use a little brush-up anyhow.”

Hunter heaved his sword over his head and threw it. The blade spun through the air and impaled a third truther as he moved to protect the minister. Hunter broke into a run and held out his hand.

“Come, Greytusk!” he called. The blade slid obediently out of the truther and flew back into his waiting palm.

The fourth truther moved forward, discarding his rifle for a long knife in close combat. Hunter swung his sword in a downward arc. The truther raised his knife to block, but the enchanted blade sheared right through the inferior metal and went on to slice the man’s throat open. Hunter kicked him to the side and moved against Couldess.

Couldess made a series of runic hand signs. When he swung against the minister, Couldess slipped under the blade—nimbler than his refined appearance would suggest—and came up with an uppercut to Hunter’s midsection that sent him reeling, caving in several plates.

That blow was far stronger than it should have been. Hunter felt the concave metal with his hand. Could it be an illusion? No. He was immune to those mind tricks.

There was no more time to think. Couldess threw off his suit jacket and came in fast, pressing his advantage.

Hunter blocked a few strikes, but each one buckled his plating, and each seemed faster than the last. Hunter countered with a thrust of his sword, but Couldess batted it aside with the back of his hand. The blade sank into the stone, where it snagged. He yanked with all his strength, but it wouldn’t come free.

Couldess punched him in the face, knocking one of his eyes out of whack so that half the world became blurry. He followed it up with a blow to the gut that sent Hunter flying. He landed on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“A good effort,” Couldess said matter-of-factly. He took Greytusk out of the ground, ignoring the burning enchantment that afflicted anyone but its true owner. Wisps of smoke trailed around his hand, but he hardly seemed to notice.

He came close and crouched in front of Hunter. He reached up to grab Couldess’s shirt, but the minister lopped off his hand with a lazy swing of the sword.

“The truth is, Ellian Garrow,” Couldess continued, “you were never cut out for this game.”

Hunter was stung by that name. Enraged by it. He opened his mouth to scream…

And he felt the connections in his neck sever as Couldess sliced his head clean off. A split second of cognition before he drove the blade into the soul core and shattered that, too.

Then shock.

Then numbness.

Then nothing.