by Ryan Attard
“Like I said,” he responded. “We do not have the time any longer.”
“Mephisto!” I snapped.
I was shaking with anger. I had no idea what I was going to do to him, but I knew I wanted to hurt him. Even if he hurt me.
Scratch that. I could never take this guy, even with my full powers.
But I didn’t care.
“How dare you give her the same poison my father took?” I snarled.
“It is not,” he replied. “This is a far weaker version than the one Crowley supplied your father with, Master Erik. It is also considerably less addictive. This is the equivalent of a stimulant, not a steroid.”
“He’s right,” Abi said. “I checked.”
I glared at her, and suddenly exploded.
“You checked? You checked! Well, okay then, we’re all good, cos you fucking checked! You have no clue what you’re doing! You don’t know what my dad went through. You weren’t there when he tried to kill his own children because of the poison in his mind. Poison he was taking because he felt weak. Does that remind you of anyone, you stupid, silly, amateurish girl?”
There was a moment of dead silence. I was vaguely aware that Mephisto was gone, and good riddance to that.
Abi calmly looked at me and plucked one of the vials out of the briefcase, along with the injector.
“You’re probably right,” she said. Calmly, she readied the injector, sliding in the vial. There was a cold, metallic click. “I am stupid, and silly, and very amateurish.” Her eyes were dead when she looked at me. “You died and left me alone to figure out the rest for myself. I had half the training and your very big shoes to fill.”
Gently, she slid the needle in her neck and pulled the trigger. With a hiss, the liquid shot into her bloodstream.
All the while she maintained eye contact with me, daring me.
“I stepped up,” she said. “I used any means necessary. I put everything on the line to carry on our mission, hoping that one day that crazy sister of yours will succeed in bringing you back and things can go back to normal.”
She pulled out the injector and dropped it on the couch.
“So don’t you dare to ever judge me again,” she said. “Ghost.”
Chapter 15
To say that things were tense would have been an understatement. Abi and I didn’t say a word to each other until it was time to go. Until then, I spent most of my time aimlessly wandering Limbo.
Without meaning to I crossed over to the part of town where the Grigori safe house was located. In Limbo, magic is represented in a more literal sense. The safe house was a fortress. Mastodonic walls encased it from all angles. Thousands of strands of magic, all represented by the same off-white ribbon, had been interwoven to create the walls, and weaving through them were several strands of different colors—no doubt a series of wards, traps, and counter-spells.
I kept my distance. People like the Grigori did not survive long without being more than a little paranoid. I knew that one of them specialized in the undead—that would be Greg the Kresnik—and given that I knew for sure there was a Necromancer in the building, I wasn’t going to risk blowing the mission out of curiosity.
Several life forms were inside, each with an awakened spark of magic, but not one as active as that of a wizard’s, or even an Adept.
The Knights of the Order of the Grigori, no doubt.
And at the very centre, a singular being. His presence was dimmed and vacuous, as if he wasn’t truly alive, despite the magic emanating from within him. The golem’s magic came from the earth, and that was represented as a long mud-colored strand of magic that furrowed deep into the ground until it disappeared from sight.
I pulled myself back, and once again crossed Limbo. Hours had passed and by the time I reappeared at Abi’s side it was time to leave.
She wore her vigilante gear, battered, scratched, and dented as it was. I tried, and failed, to keep my gaze away from her magic—I knew her aura would be powerful, healthy.
Well, not healthy exactly. Anything brought on by that poisonous shit could not be classified as healthy.
Still, I could not see any side-effects, and that stuff was really hard to hide in Limbo. Maybe she was right, and all she was taking was nothing more that Red Bull for magic.
But even if that were the case, how long before she crashed?
Wordlessly, she cocked her head, and mounted a black Ducati bike. That was new, but it made sense, given the vibe she was putting out. I watched as my very attractive apprentice mounted her bike while wearing very tight leather pants and even as a ghost, I caught myself staring and averted my gaze.
See? Who said chivalry was dead?
I snuck back to Limbo. Within that dimension, Abi was not on her bike, but rather walking really fast. I willed myself to be next to her, and together we walked in silence. I had this image that in reality, I was this ghostly version of myself floating next to her as she sped through the streets of Eureka.
That made me chuckle, and she must have heard me, because Abi tilted her head towards me. She met my eyes for a second before looking back at the road.
“We’re here.”
Abi dismounted and looked around. We were hidden among the vacated buildings next to the safe house. It looked just like any other house, except that it was very big, very robust, and very boring.
“You remember the plan?” she asked.
I nodded. “I’ll follow your lead.”
Again, she gave me that look, but said nothing. Instead, she spread her arms, tilted her head up and took a deep breath.
“Stage one,” she said. “Distraction.”
The plan was for Abi to tap into her natural psychic powers and conjure up some illusions. I saw her magic flare up and gasped a little. It was not the largest amount of magic I had seen, but it was certainly the most controlled. When the mirage appeared, it was fully formed in her likeness even in Limbo, right down to the last detail.
A second illusion popped out, as perfect as the first.
Then another, and another. And another.
I lost count after a while because in Limbo they looked like a cluster of red hair, black leather, and tactical gear encased within an aura of magic.
When I peered into the real world, I saw a small army of my apprentice, all standing in the same way.
“Wow,” I remarked. “That’s a lot of illusions. Impressive.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
I barely saw the spark of magic that ordered the clones to run forward. At the same time, the real Abi and myself went around.
Within seconds the place was lit with panic. The mirages were real enough to pose a threat. Abi had also enchanted them with a little kinetic spell, making them explode upon contact. A squad of Knights ran out to meet them, dressed in their medieval armor and brandishing shields and broadswords. I knew their weapons were enchanted to absorb most direct blows, but still, several of them went flying.
Abi ducked under a bush, and I looked up.
Two Knights aimed sniper rifles at our general direction. One of them fired at me.
They can’t see me, I realized, but their scopes must have some kind of spell that can detect magic. I ducked for cover, regardless of the fact that bullets couldn’t hurt me. Like I said, you can’t take any chances with these people.
Abi peered from behind the low wall she was hiding behind. She quickly unsheathed two throwing knives. But unlike regular throwing knives, these ones had a groove running along the spine.
She chucked the knives over her shoulder without aiming. I saw telekinetic magic grab hold of the knives, and they flew around like angry wasps until they buried themselves inside the Knights’ armor.
Both slumped down to the ground.
Abi calmly strode towards the door.
“Thought we weren’t gonna kill,” I said.
“And we didn’t,” she replied. She unsheathed another knife and showed it to me. “Spider venom. Paralyzes the victi
m for about an hour. That armor would have prevented deep penetration, so all they’re gonna need are a few stitches and twenty-four hours observation.” She thrust the knife back in its place and went back to the lock. “I promised, didn’t I?”
“Abi, I didn’t mean to imply-”
“I know,” she said. “And once this is over, we’re gonna have to have the longest talk we've ever had. But for now, let me concentrate.”
I left her to it, and peered through Limbo. I saw the electronics of the lock as strands of energy, crisscrossed neatly over one another. As Abi punched in the code Mephisto had given her, the strands began loosening up.
Abi slid Gil’s ID card through the slot, and the lock relinquished its hold.
I saw it before she heard it. A single strand of blue unfurling from beyond the lock. It slid back towards the main fortress wall like a snare being pulled back.
I lunged at the blue strand just as Abi said,
“Shit. I tripped something.”
I was unsure of what I could do if I did catch the strand—I just knew I had to try something. I threw myself into the wall and to my surprise I simply phased through the magic strands holding it together.
Of course, Erik. It’s a wall meant for physical beings, not ghosts.
I lunged at the snaking strand and grasped it. The blue strand wriggled and struggled, but I held on. Veins of golden light pulsated from within me, climbing along my hand.
The blue strand shook and fought before it fizzled out. I pulled it and watched as it turned into dust, that quickly evaporated.
“Erik?”
Abi had bolted through the door. We were now inside the safe house itself.
“You’re glowing,” she said.
I looked down. She was right. Dull golden veins spread from a ball of light in my chest.
“Whoa,” I muttered. “I feel powerful.”
“I can sense magic,” she confirmed.
“Let’s get moving,” I said. “While I can still be of some use.” I focused on the Necromancer, sensing his aura through Limbo. It wasn’t exactly subtle. In the realm of the dead, Necromantic energy was like a giant neon sign.
We paused while more soldiers ran outside to deal with Abi’s mirages. Gunfire and the sounds of fighting echoed loudly. It was almost too much fighting. I mean, these were one-hit illusions—how hard could they have been to take down?
I tried to push the worry away as we climbed a series of steps and emerged in a large foyer.
Where four Knights were standing guard, glaring at us with their weapons ready.
“Well, well, well.”
I groaned at his voice.
Boromir, the lead Knight, and stereotypical stick-up-the-ass law enforcer whose style of policing could be summed up as ‘huge fan of the Spanish Inquisition’, was grinning at us. His real name wasn’t Boromir, but he looked like the movie character, so that’s what I called him.
His eyes scanned Abi and then he noticed me.
“Like master, like apprentice,” he spat. “I’ve been looking forward to arresting you, little girl. Take off that ridiculous mask and surrender.”
Abi unsheathed Sun Wo Kung.
“Come and get me,” she challenged.
Boromir raised his sword, an act that was imitated by his three flunkies.
“This is your last warning, girl.”
“Eat a bag of dicks, Boromir,” she replied.
I glanced at her, as did Boromir. Then he snarled and lunged. But the guy was a coward. He held his charge back so that the other three were upon her first.
Abi lazily spun the first sword out of her way and thrust her hips into the second one, flipping him over. Her golden baton elongated and caught the third in the neck. Both fell down.
Boromir and the last Knight swung high and low. Abi jumped and angled herself horizontal in the air before flaring her left leg. Her polymer shin guards caught Boromir’s blade and changed the angle of the strike. The blade pierced the other Knight’s right forearm and he fell, screaming.
As she landed from her ninja spin, Abi raised her leg and axe-kicked the wounded man. Boromir struck while she had her back turned. Without looking, Abi spun Sun Wo Kung across her back and blocked, before turning her weapon into a mace. Thick studs grew over it.
She brought it down on his sword, snapping it. Then she kicked him in the nose.
“Call me little girl one more time,” she said in dulcet tones. “I dare you.”
Boromir sat back up. His nose was flat and blood streamed down his front. He snarled, got to his feet, and picked up a fallen sword from one of the other Knights.
He lunged, but Abi moved faster than I could see. Her staff smashed the delicate bones of his hands. She kicked him again, sending him spinning on the spot this time, and then raised her leg. Her shin guard caught him in the groin. The force of the blow lifted Boromir off the ground. When he fell back down, clutching his genitals, his eyes were rolling. He fell to his knees, vomited heavily, and then fell unconscious in his own sick.
“Damn, girl,” I muttered from the sidelines.
She shrugged. “These jokers are nothing compared to the real bad guys.” Her voice had an edge of smugness to it that I recognized from the old Abi.
She made her way to the door I indicated and smashed the lock with Sun Wo Kung, before kicking it in.
The first thing that hit me was the smell; sweat, stale beer, rotten food, and old parchment.
The Necromancer was even thinner than before. He was surrounded by books and scraps of paper. His clothes were dark, but there was nothing fashionable about them. A series of stains had formed a large pattern everywhere the eye could see, and I suspect also where it couldn’t.
He looked at us, bug-eyed. “You!” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was addressing me or Abi, or both. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I get that a lot,” Abi said.
She reached forwards. The Necromancer batted her hand away. Abi kicked him in the shin and he howled in place, while she seized his arm.
I felt a presence from Limbo, a strange magic looming over me.
“Come on,” Abi told the Necromancer. “We’re rescuing you.”
“Abi…” I began.
“No, not you,” the Necromancer said. “You’re the wrong one.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Abi, something’s wrong,” I said.
“I know,” she replied. “This asshole apparently does not want to be rescued.”
“Hah!” the Necromancer spat. “Like you can.”
A shadow spilled over me. I dared to look over my shoulder.
Giant, bloated, and expressionless, Evans’ golem stood a towering eight feet tall and wider than the door frame. He casually ripped the door frame off, tearing apart chunks of brick and stone, and stooped to get inside the room.
“I’m afraid he is right,” he told Abi in an expressionless voice. “There will be no rescuing today. Please surrender.” He smiled, cheerfully. “Or else.”
Chapter 16
Evans’s threat hung like the echo of a gong. Abi thrust the Necromancer aside and held her staff with both hands.
“I assure you,” Evans said, “you cannot defeat me.”
“Not unless I aim to kill you,” she pointed out. Then she looked at me. “He’s a golem, right? So I can fight for real.”
I nodded, but it was more of an automatic response to an incredulous situation.
There was no way in hell Abi was coming out of this one alive. Even if she could stop Evans—and that was a big if—she would be too injured to carry the Necromancer out of the building, especially with more Knights pursuing us.
Abi and Evans circled each other. I watched her as she faltered a step. Abi as nervous as she should be.
I needed to help her out.
“Tell me something, Evans,” I said. “How come the prisoner isn’t in shackles? And does this room look like a prison to you?”
Evans raised his
ham-sized fists at Abi.
“I assure you the prisoner is well detained in our facility.”
“Where he’s provided with research material?”
Evans, or rather his golem, turned to look at me. “Stay out of Grigori business, Mr. Ashendale.”
I grinned.
Abi snapped her staff forwards, spiraling the tip as she attacked. The tip met the golem’s skin and a crack snaked along his neck. The golem stumbled one step backwards and held up a massive hand to block Abi’s subsequent attack. Runes glowed from beneath his skin and the crack healed. He grabbed the staff and swung both it and Abi away from him, chucking her like a rag doll.
“I have elevated my enchantments,” he said. “You will not harm this body again.”
“Wanna bet?” she spat.
“Abi, don’t!”
But my warning was too late. Evans lunged, leaving a crater in the ground where he pressed with his foot, and thrust his fist forwards. His punch met Abi’s stomach…
And Abi vanished.
The real one reeled backwards, shocked at the sheer strength and speed of her enemy.
Evans’s momentum kept him going and his fist met the wall.
And then there was no longer a wall.
The giant hole gave us a great view of the chaos below. Knights attacking men with guns and dressed like ninjas. I had seen them before, a specialized military trained by my sister.
No, not only my sister.
My nonexistent blood froze as I made eye contact with him.
Alan Greede stood in the midst of the chaos, calm as a cucumber. He wore a grey turtleneck and a navy blazer, and when he looked up he gave me his trademark polite grin.
Evans and Abi looked down as well, their fight forgotten.
“You brought the enemy here,” Evans accused.
“Yeah, like I would ever work with that asshole,” I retorted. “We have to go, Evans. Now!”
The golem looked at me and then at the Necromancer. “I assure you,” he said, approaching the latter, “if I find out you had something to do with-”
BOOM!
Evans glowed blue and I saw the briefest of protective shields coat his body, but it was too late. The bazooka had blasted him off his feet and into a wall on the opposite side of the house. Part of his side was caved in. I could see the void within. Then again, that’s what golems are, nothing but lifelike dolls.
