“Who are you?” Velos said, his voice holding a tinge of fear and uncertainty. “What are you?”
“I get special mention in all of the good books,” Smith answered with a slight bow. “This one is one of my favorites: Behold, I have created the smith who blows the fire of coals and produces a weapon for its purpose. I have also created the ravager to destroy. I am the Smith and I am the Ravager. Now hand me my sword or I will be obliged to take it from your corpse.”
Velos handed the scabbard holding Nameless to Smith.
“You’re him, aren’t you?”
“What gave it away?” Smith asked. “I bet it was surviving your little cloud of death.”
“That was a large hint, yes,” Velos answered. “That and your glowing eyes.”
“Ah,” Smith said. “Sometimes I forget myself; or, rather, I reveal my true self. These things happen I suppose.”
“You have someone inside Regional.”
“Of course I have someone inside Regional, I have several someones inside Regional,” Smith said. “How do you think you were given a dark named blade? Your sterling reputation? Named blades aren’t released to males, and here you stand with a dark named blade. Did you think that was luck?”
“My apologies, I didn’t know,” Velos said.
“You really should have come to see me when I summoned you,” Smith said. “As much as I enjoy theater, I’m contemplating eviscerating you for having me go through this charade.”
“You need me,” Velos said. “I’m the one eliminating Hunters.”
“Need is such a strong word,” Smith said. “As for eliminating Hunters, it appears you are the one who was almost eliminated tonight. Something that could have been prevented had you come straight to me—first.”
Smith withdrew Nameless and it hummed with power in his hand. A deep bass tone filled the night as Smith held the sword up to the sky.
“What is that?” Velos asked looking around. “It never made a sound when I held it.”
“This blade will never sing for you,” Smith said, glancing at Retribution in Velos’ hands while raising an eyebrow. “You are bonded to another blade, a blade inferior to this one. One you should put away—unless you wish to test your skill against the Nameless?”
“Not especially, no,” Velos said, absorbing Retribution. “What will you do with it?”
“That is not your concern,” Smith said. “You were given a specific task with a specific target.”
“The Hunter and her gunman.”
“No,” Smith corrected. “Not the gunman. Just the Hunter, Sepia. Have you forgotten?”
“No, I haven’t,” Velos answered. “That gunman eliminated my entire team. He needs to—”
“What you need to do,” Smith interrupted, “is focus on bringing me that specific Hunter’s blade, not take out her gunman. Sepia is the priority; the Hunters as a whole are secondary. That was the condition upon which you were given a dark named blade, was it not?”
“It was.”
“Then bring me her blade…first,” Smith asked. “Do you know where she is, or are you just wandering the streets, lost and clueless?”
Velos flexed the muscles of his jaw.
“I have an idea where she might be hiding.”
“Is it here?” Smith asked, looking around. “Or in this neighborhood?”
“No,” Velos said. “She hasn’t been on the streets for some time. My guess is she’s hiding at the Keep.”
“The Hunter’s Keep in the Park? Really?”
“Yes,” Velos answered. “It makes the most sense.”
“Then why are you out here on the streets and not in the Park hunting her down?”
“No one goes into the Park at night and lives.”
“You wield a dark named blade,” Smith said. “You’ve bested two Hunters. Are you saying you fear the Park?”
“At night? Yes,” Velos answered. “Only suicidal fools enter the Park at night. I’m neither.”
Smith nodded his head as he assessed Velos. The man was useful, for now, and prudent. His tendency to vengeance spoke to an overinflated sense of self, but he could channel that. For now.
“Wise choice, then,” Smith answered after a pause. “When the sun rises, you enter the Park and find her.”
“I will find her and strip her of her blade, and her life.”
“Good,” Smith said. “Afterward, you go with your new team and wreak havoc and destruction on the Order. Take the rest of the Hunters’ lives and their blades, show them how weak they are as they fall before you. Unleash dark Retribution upon my enemies. You are my harbinger of death. Walk before me so that they may know the end is near and it is Nameless. Now, leave me.”
“I live to serve,” Velos said and bowed. “Thank you.”
Velos vanished in a cloud of black energy as another figure approached. He was dressed in a black suit with a dark gray shirt and matching tie. He towered over the old man, but approached cautiously, bowing when he stood near.
“Why didn’t you kill him, my lord?” the figure asked. “He openly defied you.”
“Are you questioning my actions?”
“Never, my lord. I merely seek to understand.”
“I allowed him to live because he serves a purpose still.”
“What purpose? He was nearly defeated by a group of humans. What purpose could he serve, beyond sacrifice?”
“He has brought me two named blades,” Smith said. “He will bring me more.”
“And the Jade Demon?”
“She is in the Keep,” Smith said. “As I anticipated. He will try and face her there.”
“He will die in the process, my lord. He is weak.”
Smith admired the Nameless and lifted the blade up, holding it horizontally.
“He is a feint designed to expose her weakness,” Smith said. “Either outcome serves our needs—Retribution will bring Perdition, and the Jade Demon one step closer to us. Where she belongs.”
“He dared to deny you what was rightfully yours.”
“He did not know it was me,” Smith said. “Even at the end, he was uncertain and plotting. It was clear in his voice. Once he has outlived his usefulness, he is yours.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Your brother Onyx fell because he trusted this man,” Smith said. “Do not make the same error, Tekt. You are strong, but nowhere near your brother’s power. Destroy him when I give you the command. Then you will have vengeance for your bloodline.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Tekt repeated.
Smith turned to face the Park. He sensed a wave of energy rushing toward him from its center. The energy felt familiar, like an old enemy. Smith smiled.
The Blight had arrived.
“I have much to do before we destroy the wards around the Park and our captors,” Smith said. “I have another task for you this evening.”
“My lord?”
“It would seem we have uninvited guests,” Smith said, gazing up at the rooftops and motioning to one with his cane.“Eliminate them.”
“I live to serve, my lord,” Tekt said with a bow. “Their lives are forfeit.”
“Once you have completed this task, join me. I would see our enemies suffer and beg for their lives before the end.”
“I would enjoy that, my lord.”
“As would I,” Smith said as his eyes glowed green. “As would I.”
Smith opened a portal and vanished through it.
Tekt headed for the building across the street.
TWENTY-THREE
Fighting one person is difficult. If that person is skilled and trained with a weapon, you can find yourself on the wrong end of a blade in a hurry.
Fighting a creature with four arms, while each arm is holding a blade, is a recipe for a quick death. Fighting three of these creatures with one sword was as close to suicidal as I have ever gotten.
Add twenty very large, very hungry Dreadwolves to the equation, and the chances drop from sl
im to none.
“What are you doing?” Calisto yelled. “I told you to stay inside the Keep!”
“And do what? Watch you die? Not happening.”
“Where is Mercy?” Calisto asked, sending a large boulder across the field and crushing a group of Dreadwolves that were unlucky enough to be in her sights.
“She’s repairing the wards,” I said. “What’s the plan? Do we push?”
“Are you mad?” Calisto asked, blocking one sword slash and evading another. “We fall back to the Keep with our guests who brought this upon us. Behind you—down!”
I ducked under a blade swipe designed to shorten me by a head and parried a thrust intent on skewering me. I rolled to the side and slashed at a Dreadwolf intent on making me a snack while kicking one of the quad-arms in the knee. It roared in pain as it swung two arms down at me.
“What are these things?”
“Chamai,” Calisto said, retreating as she called out to the other two fighters. “If you two want to live, I’d suggest falling back now.”
Another roar filled the Park.
It wasn’t a collective roar. This sound wasn’t the chorus of behemoths or the howl of Dreadwolves. This was the sound of one, singular creature deciding it was time to see what all the commotion was about and perhaps obliterate everything in sight.
For a brief moment, all fighting stopped. The Dreadwolves looked around and at one another. The Chamai reflexively vanished from sight, and the Park grew silent.
Calisto raised both arms and formed an enormous semicircular stone wall around us.
“That’s not going to stop them for long,” I said, looking at the wall, impressed. “Those Chamai will break through that once they get started again.”
“I don’t need it to stop them for long,” Calisto said, running back to the ward circle. “Just long enough”—she glanced at the woman who had been tampering earlier with the wards—“to fix the damage.”
“What kind of monster scares the rest of the monsters?” I asked as we ran back to the Keep. “What made that sound?”
“Mercy,” Calisto said, ignoring me for the moment, “get those two into the Keep. Sepia and I will work on the wards.”
Ursados padded over to her side. She whispered something into his ear, and he bounded off deeper into the Park.
“Do you have enough time?” Mercy asked, her voice tight with fear. “That sounded like a—”
“I know what it sounded like. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t know,” Calisto said, looking back in the direction of the Unholy. “Let’s not waste anymore of it.”
“The last time one of them roamed the Park was during the war.”
“Mercy,” Calisto said, “the safest place for any of us is in the Keep. Activate the fail safes. Now.”
“We would be more useful out here,” the female of the pair said. “We can help you hold off whatever is headed our way.”
“It’s clear you two are Regional and skilled,” Calisto said. “What are your names?”
“I’m Pira,” the woman said. “This is Destin, my second.”
Calisto gave her short nod.
“Who is responsible for this? Was this Rafael?”
“I’m not at liberty to divulge—” Pira began.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Calisto said, cutting her off. “You may be skilled, but nothing in your Regional training has prepared you for what may be headed our way. Do you wish to end your lives tonight?”
Silence from the pair.
“Good answer,” Calisto said after a few seconds. “Get inside with Mercy; you can help there while I undo your tampering with the wards.”
“I still think—” Pira started again, oblivious to the danger Calisto posed.
“Don’t start now,” Calisto snapped. “If you had been thinking, you wouldn’t have undone a crucial part of the security system keeping this place intact. You wouldn’t have confronted not one, but three Chamai, in addition to several packs of Dreadwolves without a squad of Regional Agents. You’ll excuse me if I don’t take your thoughts into consideration at the moment.” She glanced at Mercy. “Take them inside.”
Mercy motioned to the two Agents and pointed to the Keep. I had them pegged as Regional black ops, judging from the combat gear and level of fighting ability. What didn’t make sense is why they would be in the Park at night and on their own.
They headed off into the Keep in silence.
“Why would Regional send Agents into the Park?” I asked. “At night?”
“Not now,” Calisto said, crouching down to examine the ward circle. “We need to reinforce these wards. Remember what I said about not drawing on the power of the Jade Demon?”
“Of course,” I said, hearing the fear in her voice. “You just told me that about ten minutes ago.”
“If that sound is what I think it is,” Calisto said, “we will need the power of the Jade Demon tonight, if we want to live to see the sunrise.”
The next moment, a deep bass tone filled the Park. It was answered by the ultra scary roar. Calisto moved faster. Mercy and the Regional Agents had entered the Keep, leaving me and Calisto alone—well, alone if you didn’t count a Park full of Unholy.
The feeling of death surrounded us as another roar, this one louder and deeper, resonated through the Park, joined by the howls of Dreadwolves and guttural sounds of other Unholy.
“Normally, I’m not concerned about my imminent death,” I said, “but I’m getting a serious death vibe here. What is making that sound, and why will we need the power of the Jade Demon?”
“During the war,” Calisto began without looking up from the wards, “the Unholy unleashed a creature called a Destroyer. It was officially known as a Blight.”
“What is a Blight?” I asked, not wanting to know the answer. “Why haven’t I heard about this before now?”
“Blights can only walk this plane when a Nightmare Lord calls them forth,” Calisto said. “The presence of one in the Park means Chimera has grown stronger.”
“Stronger?” I asked, concerned. “How much stronger?”
“Strong enough to destroy us if we don’t reinforce these wards with your power,” Calisto said. “Would you prefer I explain Blights to you and forfeit our lives or fix these wards? I can’t do both right now.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Pira’s workaround was clever, but foolish. Had she not stopped when she did, she’d be dead right now,” Calisto said her voice grim. “I’ll need to have some words with Rafael about his suicide missions. I need you to stand over here.” She pointed to a set of symbols located near the center of the circle. “Now, please.”
I moved over to where she indicated.
“This doesn’t seem like much help,” I said, standing over the symbols. “I’m just supposed to stand here? This feels like target practice, where I’m the target.”
“Not exactly,” Calisto said, manipulating the symbols and replacing some of the wards with new ones that gave off white light. I found myself standing in the center of a ward circle glowing white in the center of the Park. “Extend your arms, please. This is going to be painful. I’m sorry.”
“Painful?” I asked, looking around at the dormant wards on the ground beneath me. “What are you talking about?”
Calisto slammed a hand down on the wards and caused the circle to explode in white energy. The energy started at the outer edge of the circle, then raced inward to where I stood.
“The Demon Anchors should keep you safe,” Calisto said, forming her sword again. “Get ready.”
“What do you mean, should keep me safe?” I asked as the energy reached me and enveloped me in power and pain. “What…am I…getting ready for? I mean, besides this agony?”
The stone wall Calisto erected to keep the Unholy back shattered into dust. A lone figure approached us, dusting off the sleeves of his jacket. Behind him, I could just barely make out the horde of Unholy through the haze of pain.
They were waiting.
“We need to get ready for that.”
“You are the energy source I have been sensing,” the man said as he stepped close, yet remaining outside the ward circle. “It has been some time since I destroyed an Unholy of your level.”
TWENTY-FOUR
“You were never one to do things the easy way,” Rafael said under his breath as he approached the hospital bed holding Gan. “Why should I expect this to be any different?”
Gan remained unresponsive.
The door opened slightly and Deborah stepped into the room. Rafael raised an eyebrow as the nurse approached.
“Did you forget something?” Rafael asked, removing his jacket. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Deborah focused on Gan.
“You’re going to try and bring him back, aren’t you?” she asked. “Don’t bother lying to me. I know I’m right.”
“What makes you say that?” Rafael said, rolling up his sleeves and loosening his tie as he, too, focused on the unconscious Gan. “I’m just here to visit my old friend.”
“I’ve tended to plenty of Hunters in my years,” Deb said. “Some of them made it, many of them didn’t. The Unholy are brutal in their fighting. The ones who made it were inked.”
“Most of the higher ranks, the ones who face the most dangerous of the Unholy, are inked,” Rafael said. “It’s another layer of protection. It doesn’t make them invincible, but it helps them survive the night.”
“None of them were inked like him,” Deb said, motioning to Gan with her chin. “His ink is different.”
“How so?” Rafael asked, wondering just how much Deborah knew. “What’s different about it?”
“I’ve only seen it twice before,” Deborah said. “Once was when I was still a trainee for the Order Medical Research Division, and the other time was when I ran into you a few minutes ago.”
Deborah pointed to Rafael’s neck, where the outline of a design could be seen.
“What are you saying?” Rafael asked.
“Well, like you, I make sure to be informed about the people I’m treating,” Deb said. “Especially for something like a mindswipe. There hasn’t been a recorded recall procedure in decades. Before that, you have to go back to the war.”
Sepia Blue- Nameless: A Sepia Blue Novel- Book 4 Page 11
