Firefight

by Brandon Sanderson

  She returned the bump hesitantly, smiling.

  Tia sighed. “It is our burden to sometimes make difficult choices. Risking the plan to save one life may cause the deaths of hundreds. Remember that, both of you.”

  “Sure,” I said. “But shouldn’t we be talking about what just happened? Two of the most powerful and most arrogant Epics in the world are working together. How in Calamity’s name did Regalia manage to recruit Obliteration of all people?”

  “It was easy,” Regalia said. “I offered to let him destroy my city.”

  I jumped, scrambling away from the Epic, who was forming out of water beside the boat. The liquid melded into her shape, taking on her coloring, and she settled with one foot up on the rim of the boat, hands folded in her lap, the other foot still merging with the surface beside the boat.

  She had an elegant, matronly look about her—like a kindly grandmother who had dressed up to visit the big city. A city she was apparently planning to destroy. She looked us over, and though I clutched my rifle, I didn’t shoot. She was a projection, a creation of water. The real Regalia could have been anywhere.

  No, I thought. Not anywhere. Projection powers like hers usually had very limited ranges.

  Regalia inspected us, her lips downturned. She seemed confused by something.

  “What are you up to, Abigail?” Tia demanded.

  So you know her too, I thought, glancing at Tia.

  “I just told you,” Regalia said. “I’m going to destroy the city.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, dear. It’s what we do.” Regalia shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can no longer help myself.”

  “Oh please,” Tia said. “You expect me to believe that you, of all Epics, are out of control? What is your real motive? Why have you drawn us here?”

  “I said—”

  “No games, Abigail,” Tia snapped. “I don’t have the patience for it tonight. If you’re going to spin lies, just leave right now and spare me the headache.”

  Regalia bowed her head quietly for a moment, then she slowly stood up, moving deliberately, carefully. She perched on the rim of the small boat, and I saw a hint of translucence to her—the water that made up her likeness showing through.

  The sea around our boat began to churn and bubble.

  “What,” Regalia said softly, “do you take me for?”

  Tentacles made of water broke the surface around us. Exel cursed, and I spun, flipping my rifle to fully automatic and unloading a spray of bullets into the nearest tendril. It splashed water, but didn’t stop moving.

  The tentacles of water moved in around us, like the fingers of some enormous beast from below. One seized me by the neck, and another snaked forward and wrapped my wrist in a cold, incongruously solid grip.

  The others shouted and scrambled as each of us was snatched in turn. Exel unloaded his handgun at Regalia before being picked up and lifted, like a bearded balloon, in a ropy length of water.

  “You think me some minor Epic to be trifled with?” Regalia asked softly. “You mistake me for someone of whom you can make demands?”

  I thrashed in my bonds as the entire boat was lifted by the tentacles, and the outboard motor’s pitch rose to a whine and was then silenced as some kind of kill switch engaged. Spouts of water curled up around us, forming bars, cutting us off from the sky.

  “I could snap your necks like twigs,” Regalia said. “I could tow this boat down into the deepest depths and imprison it there, so that even your corpses never again see the light. This city belongs to me. The lives of those here are mine to claim.”

  I twisted to look at her. My earlier assessment—that she seemed grandmotherly—now felt laughable. Lengths of water wrapped around her as she loomed over us, her eyes wide, lips curled into a sneer. Her arms were out before her, clawlike hands controlling the water like some crazed puppet master. This was not some kindly matron; this was a High Epic in all her glory.

  I didn’t doubt for a moment that she could do exactly as she said she could. Heart beating quickly, I glanced at Tia.

  Who was perfectly calm.

  It was easy to dismiss Tia as one of the less dangerous Reckoners. At that moment, however, she didn’t show a hint of fear, despite being wrapped in Regalia’s tendril of water. Tia met the High Epic’s gaze while gripping something in her hand; it looked like a water bottle with something white inside.

  “You think I’m afraid of your little tricks?” Regalia demanded.

  “No,” Tia said. “But I’m pretty sure you’re afraid of Jonathan.”

  The two stared one another down for a moment. Then suddenly the water tendrils fell, dropping us to the boat, which splashed down into the water. I hit hard, grunting, as water soaked me.

  Regalia sighed softly, lowering her arms. “Tell Jonathan that I tire of men and their meaningless lives. I have listened to Obliteration, and I agree with him. I will destroy everyone in Babylon Restored. I do not know … how long I can hold back. That is all.”

  Abruptly she vanished, her figure becoming water that collapsed back to the ocean surface. I found myself huddled between Val and Exel, heart thumping. The sea stilled around our ship.

  Tia wiped water from her eyes. “Val, get us to the base. Now.”

  Valentine scrambled to the back of the boat and started up the motor.

  “What’s the point of hiding?” I asked softly as we began moving again. “She can look anywhere, be anywhere.”

  “Regalia is not omniscient,” Tia said. She seemed as intent on pointing that fact out as Prof had been earlier. “Did you see how confused she was when she appeared here? She thought Jon would be with us, and was surprised that he wasn’t.”

  “Yeah,” Exel said, extending his hand and helping me right myself. His bulk took up about three seats’ worth of space just in front of me. “We’ve been able to hide from her for almost two years … at least we think.”

  “Tia,” Val said warningly, “things just changed in the city. She saw us. From now on, everything will be different. I’m not certain I trust anything in Babilar anymore.”

  Exel nodded, looking worried, and I remembered what he’d said earlier. At any time, she could be watching us. We have to work under that assumption … and that fear. Well, we knew she was watching now.

  “She is not omniscient,” Tia repeated. “She can’t see inside buildings, for example, unless there is a pool of water inside for her to peer out of.”

  “But if we enter a building and don’t come out,” I said, “that’ll be a dead giveaway to her that our base is inside.”

  The others said nothing. I sighed, settling back. The confrontation with Regalia had obviously left them disturbed. Well, I could understand that. Why did their silence have to extend to me, though?

  Val guided the boat toward a building that was missing a large section of outer wall. The structure was one of the enormous office buildings that were common here in Babilar, and so a gap wide enough to drive a bus through made up only a fraction of its wall space. Val guided our boat right in, and Exel took out a long hook and used it to unlatch something on the side of the wall. A large set of black drapes fell over the hole and blocked out the world.

  Val and Exel clicked their mobiles on, lighting the half-sunken chamber with a pale white glow. Val guided the boat to the side of the room, near a set of stairs, and I moved to disembark and climb them—eager to be off the boat. Tia took me by the arm, however, and shook her head.

  Instead she got out that water bottle she’d held earlier, the one with something white inside. She shook it, then upended it into the water. The others dug similar bottles out of a trunk in the bottom of the boat, then dumped theirs out as well. Mizzy dumped an entire cooler of the stuff into the water.

  “Soap?” I asked when I saw the suds.

  “Dish soap,” Val confirmed. “Changes the surface tension of the water, makes it almost impossible for her to control it.”

  “Also warps her view out,” Exel
said.

  “That’s awesome,” I said. “Her weakness?”

  “Not so far as we know,” Mizzy said eagerly. “Just an effect on her powers. It’s more like how dumping a lot of water on a fire Epic might make their abilities sputter. But it’s reeeaaal useful.”

  “Useful, but perhaps meaningless,” Val said, shaking out the last of her bottle of soap. “In the past we’ve used this as a precaution only. Tia, she’s seen us. I’m sure she identified every one of us.”

  “We’ll deal with it,” Tia said.

  “But—”

  “Lights out,” Tia said.

  Val, Mizzy, and Exel shared a look. Then they clicked off their mobiles, plunging the place into darkness. This seemed another good precaution—if Regalia could look into the room, all she’d see was blackness.

  Our boat rocked, and I grabbed Mizzy by the arm, worried. Something seemed to be happening in the room. Water streaming from somewhere? Sparks! Was the building sinking? Worse, had Regalia found us?

  It stopped, yet the stillness was, for a second, even more unsettling. Heart thumping, I imagined I was back in that water with the chain on my leg. Sinking toward the depths.

  Mizzy pulled on my arm. She was stepping out of the boat, but in the wrong direction. Into the water. But—

  I heard her foot hit something solid. What? I allowed myself to be led out of the boat, and I stepped on something metal and slick. Had I gotten turned around? No, we were walking on something that had risen out of the water in the room here. A platform?

  As we reached a hatch, and I felt my way to a ladder downward, it suddenly struck me. Not a platform.

  A submarine.

  15

  I hesitated, standing in the darkness, holding the ladder leading down into the sub I couldn’t yet see.

  I hadn’t realized that this whole “water” thing was going to be an issue for me. I mean … half the world is water, right? And we’re all half water to boot. So stepping into the sub should have felt like a sheep falling into a big pile of cotton.

  Only it didn’t. It felt like a sheep falling into a pile of nails. Wet nails. On the bottom of the ocean.

  I wasn’t about to let the other Reckoners see me sweat, though. Even if they couldn’t see me in the darkness. Hear me sweat? Ew. Anyway, I swallowed and climbed down into the submarine by touch. Exel’s heavy footfalls followed last. Something thumped above us, and I assumed he was twisting the hatch closed, sealing it.

  It was as black as charcoal at midnight inside. Or, well, as black as a grape at midnight—or pretty much anything at midnight. I felt my way to a seat as the machine started to putter, then sank down quietly.

  “Here,” Mizzy said, forcing something into my hand. A towel. “Wipe up any water you might have tracked in.”

  Glad to have something to do, I wiped my seat down, then the floor, which was carpeted. Another towel followed, and I dried myself as best I could. Obviously, hiding from Regalia required making certain that no open surfaces of water were around.

  “Okay?” Mizzy asked a few minutes later.

  “We’re good,” Val replied.

  Mizzy turned on her mobile, bathing us in light, letting me see the chamber around us. It was lined on both sides with plush orange and blue vinyl benches under windows that had been covered with heavy black cloth. I realized that, unlike what I’d expected, this wasn’t a military submarine. It was some kind of sightseeing vehicle, like one that might take people on tours around a reef. The carpet on the floor had obviously been installed later to help keep pools of liquid from forming.

  Exel sat at the ready, watching for any puddles we’d missed in the darkness. “Regalia supposedly needs two inches or so to look through,” he said to me, “but we prefer not to take chances.”

  “Does it matter?” I asked. “Can’t she just look under the waves and find us?”

  “No,” Tia said. She’d settled into the last seat in the sub, near what appeared to be a restroom hung with a sign reading, MIZZY’S EXPLOSIVE BUNKER. ENTER AT PEACE. EXIT IN PIECES. The latch was broken, and the door kept swinging open and closed.

  “Imagine you’re contacting me via your mobile,” Tia continued. “My face appears on your screen, and yours appears on mine. Could you instead, if you wanted to, turn your perspective around and look inside my mobile?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it doesn’t work that way,” I said. “The screen faces outward.”

  “That’s how her abilities work,” Tia said. “A surface of water exposed to the air is like a screen for her, and she can look out of it. She can’t just look the other direction. Under the surface, we’re invisible to her.”

  “We’re still in her power,” Val pointed out from the driver’s seat up ahead. “She raised water to flood all of Manhattan—reaching down to rip apart this submarine would be nothing to her. In the past, we counted on her not knowing we were down here.”

  “She could have killed us in the boat above,” Tia said. “She let us go instead, which means that for now she doesn’t want us dead. Now that we’re under the surface, she won’t know where to look for us. We’re free, for the moment.”

  Everyone seemed to accept this. At the very least, there wasn’t much point in arguing. As we sailed—or whatever you did in a submarine—onward, I relocated to a seat just beside Tia.

  “You know a lot about her powers,” I said softly.

  “I’ll give you a briefing later,” she said.

  “Will that briefing include how you know all of this?”

  “I’ll let Jon decide what needs to be shared,” she answered, then rose and moved to the front of the vehicle to speak quietly with Val.

  I sat back and tried not to think about the fact that we were underwater. We probably couldn’t go very deep—this was a recreational craft—but that didn’t bring me much comfort. What happened if something went wrong? If this sub started leaking? If it just stopped moving and sank down to sit on the bottom of the ocean floor here, with us all trapped inside …

  I shifted uncomfortably, and my pocket crinkled. I grimaced, reaching in and pulling out my mobile. What was left of it at least.

  “Wow,” Exel said, settling down next to me. “How’d you do that?”

  “Angered an Epic,” I said.

  “Give it to Mizzy,” he said, nodding toward the girl. “She’ll either fix it or get you a new one. Be warned, though: whatever she gives you might come with some … modifications.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “All good and very useful additions,” Mizzy said. She’d taken the bomb from me and was disarming it in her seat.

  “So,” I said, turning to Exel, “Mizzy is repairs and equipment—”

  “And point,” she said.

  “—and other things,” I continued. “Val is operations and support. I’ve been trying to place your job in the team. You’re not point. What do you do?”

  Exel put his feet up on the seat across from him, leaning with his back to the covered window. “Mostly I do the stuff that Val doesn’t want to do—such as talking to people.”

  “I talk to people,” Val snapped from the driver’s seat ahead.

  “You yell at them, dear,” Exel said.

  “It’s a form of talking. Besides, I don’t only yell.”

  “Yes, you occasionally grumble.” Exel smiled at me. “We’ve been a deeply embedded team, Steelslayer. That means lots of observation and interaction with the people in the city.”

  I nodded. The large man had a disarming way about him, with those rosy cheeks and that thick brown beard. Cheerful, friendly.

  “I’ll also bury your corpse,” he noted to me.

  Ooookaaaay …

  “You’ll look good in the coffin,” he said. “Nice skeletal structure, lean body. A bit of cotton under the eyelids, some embalming fluid in the veins, and poof—you’ll be done. Too bad your skin is so pale, though. You’ll show bruises really easil
y. Nothing a little makeup can’t solve, eh?”

  “Exel?” Val called from the front.

  “Yes, Val?”

  “Stop being creepy.”

  “It’s not creepy,” he said. “Everyone dies, Val. Ignoring the fact won’t make it not true!”

  I took the opportunity to scoot a little farther away from Exel. This put me near Mizzy, who was packing away her bomb. “Don’t mind him,” she said to me as Val and Exel continued to chat. “He was a mortician, back before.”

  I nodded, but didn’t prod. In the Reckoners, the less we knew about one another’s family members and the like, the less we could betray if an Epic decided to torture us.

  “Thanks for standing up for me,” Mizzy said softly. “In front of Tia.”

  “She’s intense sometimes,” I said. “Both her and Prof. But they’re good people. She can complain all she likes, but in your place I doubt that either of them would have let those people die. You did the right thing.”

  “Even if it put you in danger?”

  “I got out of it, didn’t I?”

  Mizzy glanced at my throat. I felt at it, reminded of the soreness. It hurt when I breathed.

  “Yeaaah,” she said. “You’re just being nice, but I appreciate that. I didn’t expect you to be nice.”

  “Me?” I said.

  “Sure!” She seemed to be recovering some of her natural perkiness. “Steelslayer, the guy who talked Phaedrus into hitting Steelheart. I expected you to be all intimidating and brooding and ‘They killed my father’ and intense and everything.”

  “How much do you know about me?” I asked, surprised.

  “More than I probably should. We’re supposed to be secretive and all that, but I can’t help asking questions, you know? And … well … I might have listened in when Sam told Val about what you guys were planning in Newcago.…”

  She gave me a kind of apologetic grimace and shrugged.

  “Well, trust me,” I said. “I’m more intense than I look. I’m intense like a lion is orange.”

  “So, like … medium intense? Since a lion is kind of a tannish color?”

  “No, they’re orange.” I frowned. “Aren’t they? I’ve never actually seen one.”