Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call

by P. T. Dilloway

As she lay dazed on the stone floor of the pyramid, Mrs. Chiostro heard the golden chains break. “Now,” Isis said, “you will see what true power is.”

  ***

  The first claws were easy enough to avoid; Emma simply dropped the Sword of Justice and then rolled to her right. She called the sword back to her in time for the next wave of claws to scream in. She ducked under these; the claws clattered harmlessly to the stone.

  Instead of a counterattack, Emma took a step back. From over the Dragoon’s shoulder, she saw the witches had bound Isis and were performing the banishment ritual. If it worked, Isis’s power would be broken and with it, that of the Black Dragoon. Or at least so Emma hoped. In the meantime she would try only to keep Becky at bay.

  “You’ll have to fight me eventually,” the Dragoon said. “Your friends will not defeat my master, at which point our combined strength will finally rid the world of you.”

  “Becky, you have to fight against it. I know you don’t really want to hurt me. She’s using you.” Emma used the Sword of Justice to swat one of the Dragoon’s claws away. “Please, Becky, I know you. I know deep down you don’t want to do this.”

  “Your words mean nothing,” the Dragoon said. He took hold of a twenty-foot statue of Isis. The Dragoon hurled this statue at Emma, which forced her to run to her left to avoid it. As she did, the Dragoon shot three claws at her. She threw herself to the ground; one claw came close enough to graze the plume of her helmet. “Give up now and your death will be easy.”

  “I won’t give up on you, Becky. You know that.” Emma reached into a pouch on her belt for a smoke bomb. She threw this to the ground to send a plume of white smoke up to the top of the temple. With the smoke as cover, she sprinted to her right to throw herself behind a statue.

  “Come out and face me, coward.”

  Emma said nothing so she wouldn’t give her position away. She tried to think of some way she could reach Becky, the real Becky, underneath the armor and Isis’s brainwashing. If only she could pin the Dragoon down, she might be able to talk sense into Becky, or at least keep her there until the witches banished Isis.

  She looked around, but didn’t find anything helpful. The ceiling was too high to stage a cave-in that would pin Becky without killing her. Then her eyes fell on another of the elaborate statues dedicated to Isis. If she could lure the Dragoon to that part of the floor, then she might be able to pin him down.

  She ran through the basic geometry of the statue and floor and came up with her plan. Then she wrapped the cape around her body and started to make her way across the floor. The Dragoon still loped around to search for her. He didn’t notice as she reached the statue. She took the Sword of Justice from its sheath and left it at the feet of the statue.

  With the cape still around her, she took up station in the center of the floor and then let the cape drop. “Becky, please, stop this!” Emma called out. The Dragoon whirled around to face her.

  “You fool, you still don’t understand. That fat, worthless pig you called your best friend is gone. She is as dead as you soon will be.”

  “No she isn’t. I know she’s still in there somewhere and she loves me as much as I love her, as I’ve always loved her, ever since that first day of kindergarten.” As Emma said this, the Dragoon came towards her while at the same time Emma used her mind to control the Sword of Justice. She set it to sawing away at the statue of Isis’s legs; it sliced through the goddess’s hamstrings until it began to wobble. The Dragoon was too fixated on Emma to notice. “I know she can hear me right now. Fight against it, Becky. Fight it!”

  In response the Dragoon launched all the claws on his left hand. Emma flattened herself on the floor to let the claws go over. She saw the next wave already on the way to where she lay. She rolled to the left, enough for the claws to go wide.

  At last the Dragoon came within striking distance of the statue of Isis. Emma commanded the Sword of Justice to finish its cut. The statue toppled forward like a tree in the forest. The Dragoon, focused on Emma, didn’t see the statue until it was too late. The heavy statue collapsed onto the Dragoon and broke into several large chunks, but for the moment it kept the Dragoon pinned.

  Emma called the Sword of Justice back to her hand. She walked slowly over to where the Dragoon laid, his clawed hands and feet covered by rubble so only his face was visible. The red eyes glowed with hatred at her; he groaned as he tried to free himself of the rubble. Emma took no joy to hold the Sword of Justice over the Dragoon; the golden blade started to glow in the presence of evil.

  “It’s over,” she said. Emma pulled her helmet off with one hand, so she could look down at the Dragoon with her own eyes. “Becky, I don’t want to hurt you. Please, fight against it. Come back to me.”

  At that moment Emma heard a loud boom from across the room. She saw bodies fly into the air, but didn’t have time to react as the shockwave reached her. The wave threw her at least a hundred feet back. At the same time, it broke the rubble of the Isis statue into pebbles. The Dragoon cleared these away easily and then got to his feet.

  As she lay dazed on her rear, Emma saw the Dragoon’s eyes glow a fierce red. She scrambled to her feet. The witches had failed, which left her with no choice now—she would have to fight Becky.

  ***

  “Now that leaves only dear Mrs. Chiostro. The grand old dame.”

  The old witch got to her feet and glared at Isis. “You can kill me and my sisters, but more will come to our aid.”

  “Then I’ll destroy them too.”

  “You’ll never win. Merlin will come back to stop you.”

  “He got lucky the last time. My powers will be stronger this time. Too strong even for him.” Isis took a step forward. “The only question left for you is whether you want to watch me kill your sister.”

  Mrs. Chiostro looked down at her unconscious sister, at the stump where Sylvia’s left hand had been. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with, dear,” Mrs. Chiostro said. The witch’s body started to glow with white light. The years faded away to leave a young woman with golden hair and pale white skin that took on the same white glow. She brought her hands together and a ball of energy leaped from them towards Isis. The ball of energy hurled Isis into a column, where she left an impression six inches deep.

  Another ball leaped from Mrs. Chiostro’s hands; this one pounded Isis through the column. Her body slammed into a statue to shatter it. As Mrs. Chiostro glided forward, her feet no longer touched the ground. Isis held up a hand and a bolt of lightning leaped from her hand to crackle across the distance until it lanced through Mrs. Chiostro. The witch screamed in pain; the ball of energy faded from her hands.

  “A worthy try. Far worthier than your comrades. But still not enough.” Another bolt of lightning coursed from Isis’s hands to spear through Mrs. Chiostro. The witch writhed on the floor; the glow around her body disappeared. After a third taste of lightning, Mrs. Chiostro went still.

  Then Isis heard a scream, not from the witches, but from the Black Dragoon.

  ***

  Though she knew it was a foolish strategy, Emma threw herself at the Black Dragoon. In this case he didn’t anticipate this maneuver, so he didn’t have time to get his claws up before Emma slammed into his midsection. She bowled the Dragoon onto the floor.

  Emma rained blows down on the Dragoon’s helmet to batter him into submission. The maneuver worked until the Dragoon managed to swivel his left hand towards Emma. She threw herself off the Dragoon a moment before the claws would have taken off her head.

  From her knees she called the Sword of Justice to her and took it in a two-handed grip. The Dragoon ran towards her and launched another salvo of claws. She flattened herself against the floor; she raised herself up as the Dragoon leaped towards her. Emma rolled onto her back and chopped at the Dragoon’s feet. The Sword of Justice lopped off the spikes at the toes of the Dragoon’s boots.

  The Dragoon sprawled on the floor and cursed with rage. They got to their feet simul
taneously; the claws on the Dragoon’s hands regenerated. One of these claws continued to grow until it became a spear nearly as tall as the Dragoon. With this cupped in his hands, the Dragoon charged towards Emma. She brought the flat of the sword down against the side of the spear to turn it aside. She let go of one hand on the Sword of Justice and used her free hand to punch the Dragoon in the face.

  The Dragoon reeled from this blow. Emma lunged at the Dragoon to press her advantage. He tried to bring the spear up, but the sword easily sliced through it. She spun around and landed a sharp kick to the Dragoon’s midsection. The Dragoon staggered back; he lost his footing to land on his rear.

  She took two hands on the Sword of Justice again and raised it over her head. She brought it down to stab the Dragoon in the left leg. The Dragoon howled in pain. Emma pulled the sword out of the black armor. The Dragoon raised his hands in a feeble attempt to defend himself; Emma swept his claws away with the golden blade. As if he sensed his defeat, the Dragoon sagged against the floor and spread his arms like those of a snow angel.

  “Go on, finish me,” he hissed.

  Emma stood over the Dragoon’s prone body; the Sword of Justice glowed bright yellow again. The Dragoon was clearly evil, unworthy of survival. And yet it was still Becky inside that armor, her best friend since she was four years old. “No,” she said. “I won’t kill you, Becky. You’re my best friend.”

  Emma heard someone applaud sarcastically. She turned to see a creature with the same monstrous black form as the Dragoon, only with a head encircled by snakes like Medusa. Isis in her true form.

  “Well, Merlin certainly found himself a good one in you,” Isis said. “It’s a pity you have such a soft heart or you would make a perfect Dragoon. Much better than your friend. Well, too late now.”

  Isis moved faster than Emma had ever seen anyone move before. One moment she stood fifty feet away and the next she was inches away from Emma. A black serpent lashed out at Emma; she turned to the left so its fangs sunk into the shoulder of her armor. The serpent’s fangs snapped, unable to penetrate the metal. Emma brought the Sword of Justice around to slice the serpent’s head off. Another tried to bite her with a similar result.

  Seeing the ineffectiveness of this approach, Isis lashed out with her left hand. Emma stumbled back, but she kept her feet. She threw the Sword of Justice; the golden blade spun through the air. Isis stopped it in midair to send it careening back towards Emma, who ducked in time for the sword to clatter harmlessly to the floor.

  Emma lunged forward and pirouetted to kick Isis in the chest. Isis fell backwards to land next to the Dragoon. Emma threw herself on top of Isis to pin her to the floor. Then she raised one hand to call the Sword of Justice back to her. The blade glowed like a sun about to go nova in the presence of Isis.

  “I will not be defeated by a mere child,” Isis said. Her eyes glowed red, but nothing happened. “No. You can’t be immune to my magic.”

  “It’s over now. You’re finished,” Emma said.

  “Not yet,” Isis said. “You may be immune to my magic, but she isn’t.”

  Isis’s eyes glowed red and the Black Dragoon lifted into the air. The Dragoon’s limbs stuck out as much as possible each way, reminiscent of the da Vinci drawing of the human body. Still the Dragoon’s limbs—Becky’s limbs—tried to move farther until the armor began to groan from the pressure. “You can kill me, but I will kill her first.”

  The seams of the Dragoon’s armor started to crack from the pressure exerted by Isis. Emma thought of her friend in the armor, her best friend. Her grip loosened on the Sword of Justice. She let it drop to the floor.

  “If you free Becky, you can have me.”

  “How very noble of you,” Isis said. Her eyes ceased to glow; the Dragoon crashed to the floor. “I accept.”

  Emma climbed off Isis and backed away a few feet. She looked at the pile of black armor for some sign of movement to indicate Becky was still alive. Her heart leaped when she saw the chest of the armor rise and fall. Becky was alive!

  Isis stood up and then floated towards her. “I have kept my end of the bargain. Now it’s time for you to keep yours.”

  Emma nodded. She unlatched the scarlet breastplate to let it crash to the floor. Isis reached out with a clawed hand like that of the Dragoon. A claw sank into Emma’s chest. She cried out in pain as the claw sliced through her flesh and traced a great circle around her heart, like the many victims of the Black Dragoon.

  Isis pulled her hand out of Emma’s chest; in her hand was a pulsing red lump that Emma recognized as her own heart. She collapsed to the floor, though somehow was still alive to watch as Isis hefted the heart into the air. “I won’t let you die yet,” Isis said. “Not until you’ve witnessed my moment of triumph.”

  There was nothing Emma could say, her vision already turning dark around the edges. She could only watch as Isis raised the heart to her lips. Her mouth opened wider, like one of the snakes that writhed around her head until it was wide enough to swallow the heart. With a perverse grin, Isis dropped the heart down her throat.

  She leered at Emma and her mouth returned to its normal size. “And now—”

  Before she could say anything more, a golden glow erupted from her stomach. The light tore through the stony black material to bathe the pyramid in light. More light shot from the ends of Isis’s feet, hands, and the snakes on her head. “No!” she managed to scream a second before she exploded in a burst of golden light.

  Emma’s head sagged to the floor; her world finally turned dark.

  Chapter 29

  Something soft tickled her cheek. She reached out with a hand only to feel a flower of some sort. As she ran her hand along its stem, she decided it must be a daisy. She opened her eyes and saw she was right.

  She sat in a field of daisies that stretched as far as she could see. Daisies had always been her mother’s favorite flower and hers as well. They were so soft and gentle and beautiful without the harsh thorns of roses. And strangely they were the only flower she wasn’t allergic to. Emma bent down enough so she could smell the flower. As she did, she ran the last moments of her life through her mind.

  She was dead. And this must be Heaven. She had never been brought up in organized religion and as a scientist she had never really bought into the notion of some paradise with clouds and people with harps. But maybe Heaven was a field of daisies for her to run through, their sweet aroma in her nose.

  This romantic notion was spoiled when something wet and cold touched the back of her neck. She rolled over and found herself looking up at a sheep. The creature bleated at her, apparently annoyed she wasn’t food. “I’m sorry,” she said. She sat up and saw a flock of sheep gathered around the first one. The daisies made sense, but she had never liked sheep, not even to count when she was tired.

  Emma got unsteadily to her feet to find that instead of the red armor she wore a simple white gown, thankfully made of silk instead of wool. She put a hand to her chest and felt her heart beat, though she knew Isis had taken it. Taken it and then swallowed it and then—

  Something had happened and Isis had exploded. Emma had much more quietly expired only to wake up here. Wherever here was. She ran a hand through her hair as she tried to think of what to do next. She supposed she might as well have a look around.

  The sheep followed her as she walked through the field of daisies. When she stopped and turned to face them, they stopped. “Are you following me? What are you, guardian angels? I thought you were supposed to have wings.”

  The sheep bleated, clearly not amused. “Sorry. I guess you can come along if you want. I just hope we don’t run into any butchers.” Again the sheep bleated, but continued to follow.

  The field of daisies went for what seemed like miles until she saw a forest ahead. From the edge of this forest came a wispy trail of smoke. A fire? That meant there were other people here.

  Emma ran towards the fire while the sheep struggled to keep up. As she came closer, she saw a
lean-to made of sticks and bits of grass. Two people sat in the lean-to and faced the fire. Emma’s face brightened with joy as she recognized one of them. “Mr. Graves!” she shouted. His head snapped up and his face broke into a wide grin.

  She raced into his outstretched arms and let him fold her against him for a hug. His body felt warm, as if he were still alive. “I never expected to see you here, lass,” Mr. Graves said. He kissed the top of her head like a parent. “What are you doing here?”

  Emma’s face turned warm at this. “Well, I guess I’m dead,” she said.

  “Oh no. Why don’t you come over here and talk about it?” He led her towards a log next to the fire. A blonde woman who wore only a sheep pelt sat on a different log with her eyes fixed on the fire. “Emma Earl, this is Beaux. Beaux, this is my good friend Emma Earl.”

  Beaux nodded to Emma without looking up. “You’re the one Marlin talked about.”

  “What did he say about me?”

  “That you were a bright girl. Though I suppose not so bright if you ended up here.”

  “Beaux, be civil,” Mr. Graves said. He gave Emma’s shoulder a squeeze. “Come now, lass, how did it happen?” She told him of the battle in the pyramid as she remembered it until those final moments when Isis had taken her heart. Mr. Graves shook his head. “I don’t believe it. You killed her.”

  “I did?”

  “You gave her a bad case of indigestion.”

  “I guess I did.” She chuckled at this. “So what is this place? Is it Heaven?”

  “Not exactly,” Beaux said. “It’s more like another plane of existence.”

  “Like the fourth dimension in one of those Twilight Zone episodes,” Mr. Graves said.

  “Do all Scarlet Knights end up here?”

  “Just you and I. I suppose we’re the lucky ones.”

  “I suppose so.” Emma stared at the fire, but felt anything but lucky at the moment as a horrible thought struck her. “Who else is here?”

  “I’m not rightly sure, lass. A few old-timers like that fellow Belt.”