Shades of Death

by Ramy Vance

  Anabelle kicked the orc’s corpse. “Yeah, he got taken care of. We’ll meet up with you as soon as we can.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  It didn’t take long for Anabelle and Sarah to join Blackwell, Naota, and Kravis. The three men were down in the recently exploded hangar. They had managed to nick five hoverbikes before they had destroyed all the other vehicles.

  Anabelle leapt onto the hoverbike and turned the engine over. “Glad you guys were able to swipe these.”

  Kravis groaned irritably. “Naota tried to convince us we needed a tank.”

  Naota, who was revving his hoverbike’s engine, shouted, “We’re about to go into battle. The more guns, the better!”

  Kravis looked ready to climb off his bike and pummel Naota. “Like I said before, we need to join the resistance as soon as possible, and tanks are slow as fuck.”

  Naota pouted, and he stopped revving. “Yeah, I know. It still would have been cool.”

  The five zoomed toward the coordinates the resistance had sent them. Anabelle studied the massing of the orc forces outside the defense tower. It appeared a good amount had survived the destruction of the tower—which was still crumbling around them. The foundation had been blown, and it was only a matter of time until the building toppled.

  She wondered how large a force the resistance had amassed. From what she had been told, this would be nearly all the gnomish resistance from across the planet. But what would happen if this battle didn’t go in their favor? There was a lot on the line; a defeat could effectively wipe out the resistance.

  Asking about it now would not change anything, and Anabelle wished she had voiced her concerns earlier. But Abby’s plan had sounded foolproof. The elf made a mental note not to take the advice of a sleep-deprived teenager seriously if this battle didn’t turn out well.

  Abby! Anabelle had forgotten about Abby’s part to play in all of this. She hadn’t spoken with her or Terra since last night. She commed Abby as she followed Kravis and Sarah. “Hey, Abby, how are we doing on those satellites?”

  Abby responded after a few minutes. “Hey. They’ve just entered orbit. Got them loaded up with anti-military artillery. Think Reagan’s Star Wars program, but actually, you know, viable. And we have a hadron collider point set up for reinforcements as well.”

  “Wait. You’re sending us soldiers, too?”

  “My initial calculations for our success weren’t realistic. Martin and I crunched the numbers again, and there wasn’t a high enough rate of success. I figured it would be best to double up on our efforts. We pulled a good chunk of fighters from across the realms to aid. Wasn’t hard after we explained the situation. This isn’t just for the Gnome World. If we pull this off, we will prove we can take out the Dark One.”

  Anabelle was glad Abby had double-checked the details. But she was a little caught off guard by the way Abby was speaking. “Hey, is everything all right?” she asked. “You sound kinda weird. Not quite like yourself.”

  Abby sighed before answering. “Martin’s been performing neural changes on my brain, and he did something to my language and personality section. I don’t know the details specifically, but he deleted my accent and syntax subtleties. He’s working on getting it fixed because I am livid. But that’s further down on the list of things to take care of.”

  “Has he been making any other changes?”

  “Stop sounding so worried. We’ve been making sure nothing is invasive. I think the biggest change has been we increased the number of nanobots in my body by one hundred percent. I might be more machine than human now.”

  Anabelle was worried, but now wasn’t the time for this conversation. “Heard from Terra?”

  “Uh, uh-huh. Oh! Think Martin got it. Yeah, this feels less stuffy. Oh, yeah, heard from her last night. Killed it at the party, apparently. She says thanks for the fork help.”

  The party arrived at the main gnomish resistance camp.

  Anabelle hopped off her hoverbike. “Are you two going to be joining us today?”

  “No can do, boss. I got experiments to run on Persephone, and Terra is meeting with another big who-ha.”

  “Experiments? Is that what the kids are calling it now?”

  Anabelle wished she could see Abby’s flustered face. “No,” Abby retorted. “Whatever Rasputina swallowed is the same black gunk being transported by the Dark One, and it was used on Persephone. Someone’s gotta figure out how to solve that problem.”

  Anabelle followed Sarah and Kravis, who were making their way farther into the camp. “Okay, okay. You guys be safe. And do me a favor, kid. Try to slow down with all the cyborg stuff. Or at least make sure you’re being safe about it.”

  “I’ll be safe, I promise. You take care of yourself too. Don’t wanna have to stage a rescue for you.”

  “Promise.”

  Sarah and Kravis were talking to a stony-faced gnome who was missing his nose. Blackwell and Naota were behind Anabelle. Sarah motioned for the elf to join the conversation. “Our forces are ready to start the push. I was informed that your HQ will be taking care of the satellites above, coordinating with our tech team down here.”

  Anabelle nodded as she studied the map.

  Sarah continued, “It’s pretty straightforward. We charge them. Break up the forces. Use the satellites to destroy what we can. The tower is done. Even if we don’t come out on top, we’ve destroyed the biggest intelligence hub on the gnomish world. If they don’t pull out any surprises on a nuclear level, we’ll be good.”

  Anabelle thought about the lich. If Rasputina entered this fight, it could be a guaranteed failure. But the lich didn’t seem interested in fighting this one. Whatever she was planning was beyond battles and skirmishes. Anabelle needed to know what the lich was up to, but that would have to be sidelined for another time.

  “Your team know about Grok, the orc general?” asked Anabelle.

  The noseless gnome nodded. “We know. Can’t do much about her. If she shows up, we’ll do what we can, but I think we have enough firepower for her. Check it out.”

  The gnome hobbled over to a hill. Down in the valley were hundreds of gnomes. There were also gnomish tanks, mismatched creations covered in gears, spouting steam like something out of the Victorian era. The plasma cannons attached to nearly every part of the tanks looked more than appropriate, though.

  As she admired the force, the nose-less gnome came up on Anabelle’s side. “And we got another fleet coming in from the south side to meet us. We’re taking back this planet. Making it ours again.”

  The group broke apart to make their last-minute preparations. Naota and Blackwell joined up with the gnomish grunts talking shit to each other around the fire.

  Kravis disappeared, leaving Sarah and Anabelle together. “She’s going to come after me,” Anabelle said. “She always does.”

  Sarah nodded as she checked her pack. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Fight her, I guess. But I don’t know what’s changed.”

  “The only thing that can change is you. You’re going to have to figure out how.”

  The gnomish forces were gathered with all the forces from the other nine realms: elves, humans, dwarves, pixies, and the stray liberated goblin. Even the small orcish regiment from HQ was present. They stood on a hill, overlooking the valley and the defense tower.

  The tower itself still stood. In its noon shadow, was the Dark One’s force of orcs. They appeared to be equally numbered.

  The lieutenants and special agents of Myrddin’s forces stood on the front line. Anabelle peered through a pair of binoculars, gauging the scene. She didn’t have to look hard to find Grok. The orc was front and center, standing ahead of the rest of the army.

  Anabelle looked at Sarah. “You ready to get this started?”

  Sarah nodded, and the elf pulled up her comm. “Start the first volley.”

  Anabelle climbed aboard her hoverbike, as did Blackwell, Naota, and Sarah. The ground started to rumbl
e, and everyone turned their eyes to the sky.

  The clouds were separating, pulling away from each other. Suddenly, seven beams of energy erupted from the sky. They hit the defense tower, obliterating the crumbling structures. Two beams hit the orc army, wiping out the left and right flank.

  Anabelle raised her fist and shouted, “Charge!” before speeding off toward Grok. She wasn’t going to wait for the orc to come to her this time.

  The army followed on her tail, screaming their battle-cries loud enough for the heavens to hear. Across the valley, the orcs did the same, their battle cry equally as ferocious.

  The two armies barreled toward each other, their plasma guns and weapons drawn. Like a mass of shadows, they raced toward their own end, for none could be certain that they were to survive such a battle.

  They clashed with a viciousness unseen anywhere across the nine realms. It was as though two hands had come together and clapped loudly.

  And the cries of pain, and death, were immediate.

  Grok led her army. She flew between orcs faster than most could see, sinking her sword into any enemy around her. She flipped over snipers who fired at her and drove the cold plasma of her weapon through their hearts.

  Anabelle almost lost the orc for a second. She braked hard, turned her bike, and rocketed toward Grok. Pistol in hand, she fired at the orcs blocking her view of Grok.

  Grok turned and met Anabelle’s eyes, her smile wide and fierce. She roared as she ran toward the elf.

  The elf turned her hoverbike sideways, and stood atop the seat, pulling out her plasma rifle and firing as she skidded toward Grok.

  Grok dodged, moving faster than Anabelle had seen her move. The orc leapt, landed on Anabelle’s bike, and drove her sword through it as the elf continued to fire at her.

  The bike rolled over on its side, tossing Anabelle and Grok off. Anabelle hit the ground, quickly scrambling to her feet. Beyond the wreckage of the bike, the battle was raging all around. The cries of the dying and of pure and unadulterated violence flooded Anabelle’s ears.

  Grok rose from the flames, her eyes just as bright and fiery. “This is the last time, knife ears. Today, I break you.”

  Anabelle tried to drown out the noise around her. There was only Grok. Only Grok. She rushed at the orc, pulling as much mana from those around her as discreetly as possible, channeling it into her arm, where lighting crackled in her palm.

  Grok ran toward Anabelle, her eyes wild with the hunt.

  Anabelle disintegrated into a mist, reappeared behind Grok, and slammed her electric fist into the orc’s back. The impact caused a massive explosion that flung them both into the air.

  Sarah sped to Anabelle’s landing spot. She jumped off her hoverbike and helped the elf to her feet. Before either could get situated, Grok landed in front of them.

  The orc grabbed the hoverbike, raised it over her head, and slammed it down.

  Anabelle and Sarah dodged aside, Sarah rolling quickly to her feet. She surged into the air, her eyes turning white as the veins in her neck bulged. A white aura pulsed from her body, and she spewed a giant fireball down on Grok.

  Grok threw her arms up, taking the brunt of the blast. When the smoke cleared, the orc was still standing, covered in soot.

  A bolt cut through the air, clipping Sarah in the arm and knocking her away. As she got to her feet, an orc on a hoverbike sped by, seized her by the hair, and pulled her along with him.

  Grok cracked her neck slowly. “Shame your friend couldn’t stick around. She’s strong.” The orc approached, casually grabbing a human near her and snapping his neck.

  Anabelle screamed in rage and her mana pulsed around her, consuming her body in flames.

  The two met mid-punch, both landing a strike to the other’s jaw. Pain erupted all through Anabelle’s body. She’d never been punched like that before. She soared through the air, knocking over anyone in her path.

  Anabelle struggled to stand as another orc towered over her, ready to slam his ax down to cleave her head.

  A taser hit the orc in the chest, electrocuting him.

  Naota was waving his tasers, snapping anything in front of him, while Blackwell, who was back to back with Naota, fired shot after shot, picking off orcs and vrosks flying above.

  Kravis was nearby, dodging and weaving between the orcs, slashing at their knees, moving through the crowd with an intense focus, debilitating everyone near him.

  Anabelle was up, trying to gather herself together. She couldn’t make sense of all the chaos around her. Were they winning? It was impossible to tell. There was only death and destruction.

  Grok landed beside Anabelle and grabbed her by the throat. The elf vanished into a sea of mist, reappearing free of Grok’s grasp. She punched the orc in the face, kicked her in the kneecap as hard as she could, and jumped up to deliver a roundhouse kick to her face.

  The orc stumbled backward. As Anabelle leaned in for another punch, Grok caught her by the arm and flipped her over. The orc leapt into the air, clasping both hands together, and landed on Anabelle’s chest.

  Anabelle coughed up blood as her vision dulled. But she wasn’t done yet. She let out a blast of mana that threw Grok off her. “Get out of here, you idiots!” she shouted at Naota and the rest.

  Grok smiled as she approached Anabelle. “I don’t give a shit about them. I want you, elf. You and only you.”

  A black aura pulsed from Grok as her eyes turned red. “You push me. Every fight. I can finally start to show you what I really am.”

  The black aura sent out an energy wave that threw everyone within a twenty-foot radius through the air.

  Anabelle stumbled to her feet, blood trickling from her nose and ears. She held her comm up. “One more barrage. Then retreat. Everyone, retreat. This is over.”

  Grok laughed caustically. “Are you calling for backup? Do you need someone to save you, fair one?”

  Anabelle assumed her stance, trying to calm her mind to allow her mana to flow free and unregulated. “I’m going to kill you. And I’m going to enjoy it.”

  She rushed Grok, throwing all the power she possessed into her attacks. Flames burst from her body as she threw punch after punch.

  The sheer force of the elf’s assault pushed Grok back as the orc laughed. “Yes, yes! This is what I’ve been waiting to see from you!”

  The ground beneath them cracked, expanding into a crater as Anabelle’s eyes burned bright, energy crackling from them. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Anabelle screamed as a mixture of fire and electricity burned through her body, forming into a ball in her hand. She grabbed Grok by the throat, wrestled her into a half-nelson, and tried to drive the ball into Grok’s chest.

  Grok shifted her weight, holding Anabelle in position. “That was good, knife-ear. But not good enough.” She seized Anabelle’s wrists with both hands and twisted, snapping them in two. Then she drove the ball of energy into the elf’s chest.

  When the smoke from the explosion cleared, Grok was still standing, Anabelle’s hair wrapped in her fist.

  The armies were retreating as a Dark Gate opened behind Grok. She dragged Anabelle through the Gate.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Abby woke up with butterflies in her stomach. She’d heard the term used multiple times in her life and had always believed it was trite, but here she was, warm fuzzies on the back of her neck, her stomach churning as her heart jumped into her throat every time she thought about Persephone.

  Since the drow had come to HQ, the two had been inseparable. Persephone had been at Abby’s side almost the entire time, asking questions about her work, and how the different HQ systems functioned. So many questions, in fact, that Creon had cornered Abby to ask whether Persephone was a double agent.

  Abby hadn’t had a good answer immediately, but when she brought the topic up to Persephone, the drow had offered to share anything and everything about the Dark One’s forces that she could remember.

  As Abby discovered, one of the benefits of
the Dark One’s advanced mind control tech was that microchipped individuals retained their cognition as the Dark One required his servants to be capable and sentient. Anything less would have resulted in an army of drooling zombies.

  Which meant Persephone, along with anyone else who had been microchipped, retained all their experiences and memories from when they were under the Dark One’s sway.

  That had been enough for Creon to back off.

  Abby felt a little guilty for being so happy while terrible things were afoot. The entire time she had been planning the strike against the Dark One’s forces on the gnomish world, she’d been thinking about going for a walk with Persephone. That was only a small part of what she’d admit that she was thinking about the drow.

  Fortunately, Martin was there to help pick up her mental slack, which would have been considered negligible by anyone else. The improvements Martin had been making on her neural network were extremely evident. Abby was thinking faster and more efficiently than she had in her entire life.

  Her head was bursting with ideas for how the war efforts could be improved. Roy had begun to get annoyed with the number of messages Abby had been sending with different ideas.

  Not too annoyed, though; he was implementing most of them. The dual efforts of Abby and Martin were akin to having a thousand scientists working on the job.

  But Abby was having a hard time caring about any of it since Persephone was finally here. Abby couldn’t shirk her responsibilities, but she couldn’t force herself to look past all the numbers and theories all the time.

  Occasionally, she had found herself daydreaming about staring into Persephone’s eyes. Usually, these moments were interrupted by Creon complaining about something or shouting in frustration at his computer.

  Abby got out of bed and went to brush her teeth. Her whole body was vibrating—not because of her thoughts of Persephone, though. One of the things Abby had noticed since the increase of nanobots in her body was that she felt as though she was crawling out of her skin. Her body no longer felt like her own.