Phantom's Grasp: The One Armed Assassin Series

by Hans Bezdek

  “What are you doing?!” demanded Phantom.

  “I have a suspicion you can only use magic if you’re wearing that glove,” said Anselm, jumping forward and slashing at Phantom with his dagger.

  Phantom blocked it with his gauntlet, then shoved his opponent back.

  “You figured it out, huh?” laughed Phantom. “Congratulations. Unfortunately for you, the gauntlet only comes off if I want it to!”

  That was going to be a problem. Anselm took another look at his arm. Only three runes left.

  “Face it,” sneered Phantom. “You can’t defeat me. Don’t worry, I’ll kill you quickly. After all, I’ve got the Grand Duke and your friends to take care of.”

  Anselm narrowed his eyes at the assassin. His only chance was to get rid of the gauntlet. If he couldn’t take it off, he had to try and destroy it, if that was even possible.

  One more time, Anselm jumped at Phantom, thrusting out with his left dagger. The assassin blocked it with the gauntlet again, laughing as he did so. Anselm grabbed the gauntlet with his fake hand, squeezing as hard as he could.

  “This is how you choose to waste your final seconds?” laughed Phantom. “It’s not coming off.”

  “I’m not trying to take it off,” grunted Anselm. Using all of the strength he could muster, he continued to try and crush the gauntlet. His obsidian arm suddenly felt tingly, and he watched the remaining three runes all glow brighter than before.

  “W-What are you doing?!” cried Phantom. Sparks were shooting out around the gauntlet, but the magic wasn’t coming from Phantom… It was coming from Anselm’s arm.

  A bright blue explosion went off where Anselm’s hand was grabbing the gauntlet and the two of them were thrown back. Anselm hit the ground hard, rolling over a few times before bumping into one of the chairs. He got to his feet with a grunt, unable to use his right arm again.

  The runes were out. The burst of magic he created must have used the rest of the energy that had been stored in his arm.

  “Would’ve been nice to know I could use magic earlier,” mumbled Anselm.

  “M-My arm!”

  Anselm looked across the room to see Phantom using a wall to get himself back up. The left side of his mask had been destroyed, revealing a young, clean shaven face. His brown eye was wide with horror as he stared at his left arm. The gauntlet no longer glowed at all and was completely bent. His mangled arm was covered in blood and he was hardly able to lift it.

  “Now you know how I feel,” called out Anselm.

  Phantom’s wild eye shifted from his arm to Anselm. It was filled with pure hatred and rage. Phantom let out a savage scream as he ran for Anselm, picking up his sword without slowing. In one fluid action, the half-masked man lunged forward, the tip of his blade aimed right for Anselm’s neck.

  Anselm ducked underneath the attack, bringing his dagger up into Phantom’s chest. The man let out a grunt of pain, then tried to swing his blade down at Anselm’s back. Phantom didn’t have nearly the leverage he needed to pull off the attack, and Anselm thrusted his dagger into Phantom’s chest a second time.

  This did the trick, and the man collapsed backward, Anselm on top of him.

  “Told you,” said Anselm, fighting for breath as he pulled his dagger out and slid off of the assassin. “Couldn’t handle me without your magic.”

  “Y-You took… my arm… too…” coughed Phantom weakly.

  “It just evened the playing field,” said Anselm, shaking his head. “You have no one to blame for this but yourself! If you would’ve just left after killing the Alchemist instead of trying to kill Calina, you wouldn’t be dying right now!”

  “It doesn’t… doesn’t matter…” coughed Phantom. “I… I was starting to think he… he wouldn’t live up to his word...”

  “He?” asked Anselm.

  “He… He didn’t trust me…” coughed Phantom, but there was a hint of a chuckle. “The s-smart thing… would’ve been… to k-kill me when he took over…”

  “When who took over what?” asked Anselm.

  Phantom’s head rolled to the side.

  Anselm knew the assassin had uttered his final words.

  Chapter 20

  A few minutes later, Anselm stumbled out of the safe room and into the ballroom. He hadn’t been that tired since… Well, since his arm was blasted off. All he wanted to do was find Grayson, get out of here, and sleep for a few days.

  Practically all of the guests were gone and none of the servants could be seen, but the assassin didn’t pay much attention to that. He was a little preoccupied with the thirty city guards shoving their halberds in his general direction. Anselm raised his left hand weakly. His right had gone back to not moving at all.

  Figured.

  “He’s with us!” shouted Grand Duke Jaspar, pushing his way through a few of the armed men. “Is… Is the assassin dead?”

  Anselm lowered his arm and nodded his head back. “Yup. You’ll find him in there.”

  Jaspar quickly waved the guards in, who ran past Anselm to inspect the destroyed room.

  “Y-You saved my life,” stammered Jaspar. “I couldn’t believe you jumped in the way of that bolt of lightning he shot at me!”

  That makes two of us, is what Anselm wanted to say. Knowing better, he simply nodded, adding, “That’s a guard’s job.”

  “I… I suppose it is,” nodded Jaspar.

  Two figures hobbled out of the library, catching Anselm’s attention.

  “You two okay?” Anselm called out.

  “Been better,” said Grayson, leaning on Calina as they walked over to join them. The elf was covered in cuts and appeared to have hurt one of his knees.

  “Didn’t I send a healer in there?” asked the Grand Duke, looking Grayson over as well. “Why didn’t he take care of you?”

  “He mostly fixed his knee, but one of the other guards needed his full attention,” explained Calina. “Sten was nearly dead, but the healer assured us he’d make it. Chloe is staying by his side.”

  Anselm wasn’t sure if he was more surprised that the two guards actually helped Grayson and Calina, or that the two had survived a fight with Chaos.

  “Did Phantom ever show up?” asked Grayson.

  “He did,” nodded Anselm. “It was a close fight, but I pulled it out in the end.”

  “You couldn’t have picked a more selfless guard to help me!” Jaspar exclaimed to Calina.

  “Really?!” she asked, sounding extremely surprised.

  “He’s too humble to say it, but he nearly sacrificed himself for me!” nodded the Grand Duke.

  Calina gave Anselm a confused look while Grayson grinned.

  “Did you detain Chaos like you hoped?” asked Anselm, wanting to change the subject.

  Calina adjusted her glasses as she stared hard at Anselm. The assassin noted there was a mix of anger and hurt in her eyes.

  “No,” she said firmly. “I had to kill him.”

  Anselm was happy to hear that but wasn’t sure why she seemed bothered by it.

  “I’m sure you had no other choice,” said Jaspar.

  “He was about to kill me,” nodded Grayson. “If she hadn’t stepped in when she did, I’d be a goner.”

  “Sounds like she made the right decision, then,” smiled Anselm.

  Calina didn’t return it. “I hope I did.”

  The Grand Duke didn’t pick up on the slight tension. He snapped his fingers loudly and looked around the ballroom.

  A servant approached them with five leather pouches, handing one to Anselm, Grayson, and Calina before going off to give the other two to Chloe and Sten.

  “Since you were all responsible for me still being alive, I thought it best to pay accordingly,” said the Grand Duke. “You should find a thousand gold pieces in your bags.”

  Grayson’s eyes practically popped out of his head. He rudely opened the bag and gawked at the shining gold inside of it. Anselm had enough sense to not do the same but was equally impressed and thankful for th
e large sum.

  “Is that a good wage?” asked Jaspar, clearly not grasping how little the other side lived on.

  “Oh, it’s good all right!” exclaimed the elf, shoving the money bag into his pants.

  “I am terribly sorry for not believing the three of you,” continued the Grand Duke, looking embarrassed. “I nearly died for my mistake, but it seems that’s over now.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” cautioned Anselm. “Phantom and Chaos were part of a group. Others might come for you once they learned those two failed.”

  “There will be no need,” sighed Jaspar. “I thought being a Grand Duke would make my life easier, but it’s clearly not the case. I’ve decided to retire from my position as soon as possible.”

  “You can do that?” asked Grayson.

  The Grand Duke nodded. “Of course. Someone else will take my position, and then these assassins can be their problem. I intend to leave for one of my villa’s on the outside of Durzheim. Hopefully, if I stay out of sight and mind, no one will want me dead.”

  “I think that should work,” nodded Anselm. “I don’t see why they would continue to hunt you down.”

  “Agreed,” smiled Jaspar. “Feel free to stay or leave whenever you’d like. However, there are some things I’d like to discuss with the Alchemist before she goes.”

  Everyone looked at Calina, who after a few seconds realized he was talking about her.

  “Oh! Um, yes. That should be fine.” she said in surprise. She passed the wounded Grayson over to Anselm, then gave the two of them a firm look. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing the two of you again sooner or later. I hope the gold is enough to keep you from doing any more guard jobs until we can talk again.”

  Anselm didn’t have a clue what she was referring to, but Grayson nodded with a laugh.

  “You got it,” replied the elf.

  Satisfied with his answer, she and the Grand Duke walked toward the kitchen.

  “I will have to introduce you to a few people over the next few days before I officially retire…” began Jaspar, before the two of them disappeared out of sight.

  “She’s acting strangely,” mumbled Anselm.

  “I’m pretty sure she wasn’t happy she had to kill someone,” shrugged Grayson.

  “I don’t see why that’s a big deal,” said Anselm.

  “That’s because you’ve killed so many times,” said Grayson, shaking his head. “Ordinary people don’t do that. She clearly thinks killing is wrong, and she doesn’t like that she had to do something that goes against her morals.”

  “But it was to save you,” pointed out Anselm. “Surely that makes it justified.”

  “It should… but I think she feels conflicted about saving assassins.”

  Anselm snapped his head toward Grayson. “You told her?!”

  “Chaos did!” said Grayson, raising his hands weakly in defense. “I tried to say he was lying, but she saw through it.”

  “That would explain why she was acting so cold toward me,” muttered Anselm. He glanced in the direction Calina and Jaspar left. “Think she’s going to tell the Grand Duke?”

  Grayson shook his head. “She said she wouldn’t turn us in. At least not at the moment.”

  This definitely had the potential to end badly for the two of them. Anselm had more questions about his arm after it absorbed Phantom’s magic, and he’d need to talk to her to figure out what had happened. She might not be forthcoming with answers, and if he wasn’t careful, he could anger her and get them thrown into jail.

  Problems for another day, though.

  “Did my poison work well?” asked Grayson, considering the matter put to rest. “I spent so much time on it. I really hope it worked!”

  Anselm shifted uncomfortably, pulling out the vial and holding it out to Grayson. “Well, you might need to wait a bit longer to find out. I didn’t actually use it.”

  “Aw!” pouted Grayson. “Why not?”

  “He was using his gauntlet to block everything,” explained Anselm, shaking his head. “If I put it on my daggers, it would’ve been a waste.”

  “Wish I would’ve kept it,” mumbled the elf. “Could’ve really helped us out.”

  “You can have it back, if you’d like.”

  Grayson gently pushed the vial back toward Anselm. “No, you keep it. I’m not planning on getting mixed up in any more fighting for a long time. I much prefer staying in my apartment while you do all the dangerous stuff.”

  “Of course you do,” grinned Anselm, putting the vial back.

  “I guess you got your 100th kill after all, huh?” smiled Grayson.

  “Sort of,” sighed Anselm. “It wasn’t exactly an assassination, though.”

  “Sure it was!” insisted the elf. “Phantom had no idea you were going to be here. You set a trap for him, even if there were a few hiccups. Then you killed him. That’s the core of what we did, isn’t it?”

  Anselm let out a small laugh. “I guess it is.”

  “I take it you didn’t learn anything more about Phantom’s group before he died?” asked the elf, taking his weight off of Anselm and testing out his hurt knee.

  “More or less,” said Anselm, thinking back to Phantom’s last words. “Whoever is their leader is still left, though. Phantom mentioned a ‘he’ that must be strong. He said he thought this man would kill him before their dumb plan was completed.”

  “Sounds like a lovely group of friends,” said Grayson.

  “That’s why assassins don’t work in groups,” said Anselm, shaking his head. “It’s no real surprise to me.”

  “And he never said what the point of killing the Grand Duke was?”

  “Never did. Phantom alluded to their leader taking over something, but he died before he could tell me more.”

  “That’s not much to go on,” said Grayson.

  “He insinuated that whatever it was, it would matter to us,” said Anselm, recalling some of what Phantom said earlier. “But nothing more concrete than that.”

  “So… what’s next?” asked Grayson. “Think you’re going to hunt down the rest of Phantom’s group?”

  “You wouldn’t help me?” asked Anselm, grinning.

  “Of course I would,” sighed Grayson. “Although I’d prefer to not get stabbed so many times in the future.”

  Anselm smiled, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think there’s any need to go after them.”

  “Really?” asked Grayson, slightly surprised. “Why not?”

  “We got the only two that knew who we were, so I doubt the others will come for us,” shrugged Anselm.

  “Good point. But… what about their motives?” asked the elf. “Sounds like they are working on something major if Phantom said it would impact us.”

  “He was just bluffing,” scoffed Anselm. He nodded to his fake arm. “What could possibly change our lives any more than this thing?”

  “Another good point,” conceded Grayson.

  “Let’s get out of here before the guards start asking us too many questions,” said the assassin, stifling a yawn.

  “Sure. We have to make a quick stop on the way, though.”

  “We do?”

  “You still owe me a door, remember?”

  Epilogue

  Duke Cadmus cupped his hands, filling them with water from the sink. He splashed his face then dried off with the cloth of his cloak. With a sigh, he stared back at his reflection in the mirror.

  The events of the previous day certainly hadn’t gone like he thought they would. There were bound to be concerns, but he believed he could quell them. At this stage, the others were supposed to have only one job left. They might enjoy having a slight detour.

  Duke Cadmus pulled his mask out and put it on. When he looked back at himself in the mirror, Warden stared back.

  He left the restroom and went down to the basement, where for once he was the last one to show up.

  “Warden!” exclaimed Sage, concern in his voice. “Have you heard the rum
ors?!”

  “Which ones?” asked Warden, feigning ignorance as he moved around the table and took his usual seat.

  “The ones that say the assassination on the Grand Duke was a total bust!” said Jester. There was no humor in the man now.

  “I heard Chaos and Phantom are dead,” said Lotus, staring down at the table with her head low. “Someone killed them.”

  “Not just someone,” spoke up Wild. “It was a group of guards.”

  “Guards?!” scoffed Jester. “I may have given Chaos a hard time, but I never believed he would be killed by some half-brained guards!”

  “It is most surprising,” nodded Wild. “Especially with Phantom there, as well.”

  “Is all of this true?” Lotus asked, looking up at Warden. Everyone else turned and quietly waited for the man to speak.

  Duke Cadmus smiled underneath his mask. They continued to view him as their leader, even after the failure of two of their members. None of them knew Warden’s real position as a duke. They simply believed he had high, important connections that listened to him.

  Helping Anselm was proving to be the right decision. Phantom had been a potential problem for Warden for far too long. The man had been undermining him at these meetings and had even gone so far as to taunt Warden by nearly saying his true identity. If he had returned after killing Grand Duke Jaspar, the others might have started to turn to him.

  Phantom and Chaos had been valuable tools during their time, but they were unnecessary moving forward. Best of all, disposing of them through using Anselm and his accomplices had kept his hands clean.

  “What you have heard… is true,” he said after a moment of tense silence.

  A few of them gasped, while Jester shook his head and slumped in his chair.

  “Great,” groaned Jester. “Now the Grand Duke will have guards around him every moment of every day, and the rest of the Council will be just as much on their toes.”

  “We shouldn’t have sent them,” complained Sage. “Phantom and Chaos never erred on the side of caution. Their foolishness cost them their lives, and the rest of us our goals!”

  “Hold on,” said Warden, raising a hand before the meeting got out of control. “I never said that this was a complete failure.”