Fire Sorcerer (The Sentinels Book 1)

by David J Normoyle

  “Yes?” said the person behind the desk, an attractive woman wearing a headset.

  “I’m here to see Richard Sulle.”

  “Your name?”

  “Rune Russell.”

  “Hold.” She pressed a button and spoke quietly into the headset. I held my breath. I hadn’t lost that much if Sulle wasn’t there or wouldn’t see me, I decided. I still had time to get to Burgundy’s.

  Not sure about you, but I’ve lost years off my life after you almost crashed about fifty times on the journey here, Jerome thought.

  You don’t have a life.

  “This way.” The young woman walked out from behind the desk and led me toward the row of elevators.

  I guess he will see you, Jerome thought. What d’ya know?

  I wished I could be sure that was good news. The woman led us through the busy crowds to an isolated elevator. It didn’t have a button to call it, just a small keyhole. The women pulled on a chain around her neck until a key fell out. She inserted the key into the keyhole, the doors opened, and she gestured me inside.

  I stepped in and the door closed behind. It was the strangest elevator I’d ever been in, all mirrored steel and no buttons. I did a complete three-sixty, twice, checking for floor buttons. A camera stared down at me from the top corner.

  With a slight whirring sound, the elevator ascended, accelerating smoothly. The elevator knew where it was going even if I didn’t. After a time, I felt the adjustment in the acceleration as the elevator slowed, then came to a stop. When the doors didn’t immediately open, I had another chance to regret the lack of buttons. I was never going to let the doors of an elevator close on me again without making sure I had a means to direct it.

  Five seconds ticked by, then ten. I glanced up at the camera. Coming here was beginning to feel like a mistake. What if I was kept trapped here all evening, preventing me from even attempting to save Jo?

  Before I had a chance to panic, the doors slid open to reveal a large room with dim lighting. I cautiously stepped forward.

  “Richard Sulle!” I called out. The words disappeared into the darkness. Reacting to a sound, I swiveled around. The elevator doors were closing.

  I stepped back and reached for the button to stop it, then let my hand fall to my side. Of course this side had no buttons either. The elevator whirred again as it descended.

  I turned to face the room again. It had still been bright out when I’d entered Verge Tower, so the place shouldn’t be so dark. Suddenly, I wanted to be back in the sentient elevator. What was going on?

  Are you asking me? Jerome thought.

  It was a rhetorical thought. Aren’t I allowed to make thoughts in my own blasted head now?

  You seem scared.

  Shut up. I’m not scared.

  It doesn’t bother you that you are trapped in the dark innards of this skyscraper?

  I’m not trapped. I just don’t know the location of the emergency exits.

  It’s an emergency now, is it?

  I think I preferred when I was in open battle against you, instead of just having to put up with your little snide remarks.

  So? Are we going to cower by the elevator or explore deeper?

  There is no we. I tugged at the necklace. Blasted Jerome. And Beelzebub-blasted Flavini for forcing him on me. I had to figure out how to free myself of him.

  “Richard Sulle!” I called out loudly. “You are expecting me, I believe.”

  No answer. I should have heeded my instincts and stayed well away from the man. I cautiously stepped farther into the dimly lit room.

  My eyes adjusted and I began to make out my surroundings. At first I thought the area was set up with rows of cubicles like a normal open plan office, then I realized parallel head-high wooden racks had been lined up. I walked between two racks and discovered that they were arrayed with an assortment of weapons.

  I touched the hilt of a longsword, then ran my fingers along the leather of a looped bullwhip. That was only the start of the weapons. Axes, staffs, bows, swords of all shapes and sizes were all on display. Hundreds of them.

  I moved between the gap between two racks and into another row. More weapons, many of which I couldn’t name, but they were all clearly offensive weapons of one kind or another.

  A soft scraping noise sounded behind me, and I whirled around. A dark shape dashed past me. I jumped back and crashed into the rack of weapons behind me, knocking it over. I grunted as my back landed on something hard and thick, the wind knocked out of me. Several weapons rolled across the floor, rattling. I lay there, stunned.

  A dark figure charged out of the darkness, a sword held over his head. He swung downward. I screamed and rolled over, and the sword crashed into the wood where I’d just been. The figure disappeared into the darkness again.

  You scream like a girl, Jerome told me.

  As I scrambled upright, my foot landed on a staff. It rolled, and I fell again.

  Jerome laughed softly in my mind.

  I climbed back to my feet, just in time to ready myself as he came at me again, flowing out of the darkness and slashing his blade at my head. I ducked, and he ran on past, disappearing again.

  Beelzebub, what in the name of all that was holy was going on? My fingers, close to the ground, touched wood. I grabbed it, and when I straightened, I examined what I held: a staff.

  He finally decided to pick up one of the weapons. What a genius this boy is, Jerome thought.

  I adjusted my grip so it was balanced, with one hand on either side of the midpoint. When the figure charged again, I thrust forward at him with the point of the staff. He shifted away from my strike and kept running, slicing his sword against my arm.

  Pain flashed, and the staff fell from my fingers. I slapped my left hand against my right bicep. Blood squeezed out between my fingers.

  I turned and ran between two racks of weapons. I bumped against another rack, sending it toppling over. I shambled onward, my left hand clutching my right bicep, twisting my head back to make sure he wasn’t following.

  When I faced forward again, he stood in front of me, his sword held in two hands before him. I skidded to a stop, then backed away. He was dressed all in black, including a black mask. It wasn’t enough that all kinds of magical creatures wanted me dead, now the blasted ninjas were after me.

  Ninjas aren’t known for immunity to magic, Jerome thought.

  I shook my head. Magic always made things worse. How many would die if I accidentally set Verge Tower on fire?

  I released my wounded arm and reached across to grab the nearest weapon. A whip. What good was a whip against a sword? I immediately dropped it and grabbed for something else.

  This time, my fingers wrapped around a large bladed weapon with two handholds. Better. My right hand trembled slightly as I took it in two hands. The ninja raised his sword and brought it down hard toward my head. I raised the bladed weapon high. Sparks flew as metal rang against metal. Instantly, the ninja swiped crossways at my midriff. I attempted to block, but I was too slow, much too slow. The ninja’s sword flew underneath the bladed weapon. I jumped back, releasing the bladed weapon. The blade slashed through my T-shirt but missed my vitals.

  The ninja kicked the bladed weapon aside and stepped toward me. I dashed backward and to the side, stopping in front of another rack of weapons. I grasped the hilts of two crossed shortswords, pulling them free and turning just as the ninja struck out at me again. I deflected with the left sword.

  He struck again and I took two fast steps back, allowing his blade to whiz past in front of me. I steadied myself and adopted a sideways stance with my left foot forward, the left sword held out in front, my right hand down at my hip, the right sword held horizontally.

  The ninja attacked with a series of slashes. I stayed on the balls of my feet, blocking with my left sword whenever I could, and whenever the speed of the ninja got past my left guard my right sword came to my rescue. I drifted backward, taking small steps to give myself space.
>
  He swung wide to my left hand side. I blocked again and this time, instead of retreating, I stepped forward and thrust with my right sword at him. He swiveled his body out of the way, sailing out of my reach.

  He paused and lifted the side of his black top, showing a gash in it. He raised the flat of his sword to his forehead and gave a nod. At the gesture of respect, I felt a surge of satisfaction. I was outfighting a ninja.

  Fool, Jerome thought. He went easy on you.

  Before I had a chance to flash a thought back, the ninja jumped at me, swiping downward. I just had a chance to block that, before another slash almost took my head off. I ducked and nearly fell before retreating between two racks into a new row. The ninja followed.

  It appeared that Jerome had been right, for his attacks became ever faster and more purposeful.

  I blocked and dodged and retreated, ever more desperate. The ninja was relentless. A strike aimed at my right thigh almost got through, but I just managed to get my left sword to deflect it. It left me unbalanced though, leaning to one side, and the ninja’s blade flicked past my guard. Unable to retreat in time, I twisted my right sword, bringing it back across my body.

  I was too slow. The ninja embedded his blade through my stomach.

  I shuddered to a stop, shocked. I stared down at the sword sticking out of my stomach in disbelief.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

  Chapter 31

  Thursday 18:15

  The ninja slid his sword free, and agony tore through my insides. The two shortswords clattered to the ground, and I clutched at my stomach, doubling over, trying to keep my guts inside me. Blood leaked through my fingers.

  Overhead lights flickered, then came fully on. Footsteps rang hollowly, then a pair of black leather shoes appeared—shoes polished to a mirrored shine. I looked up. Richard Sulle stood in front of me, a faint smile touching his lips.

  The ninja took off his mask to reveal the face of Konstance, Sulle’s bodyguard.

  I lifted one hand off my stomach, watched blood drip from it, then stared up at Sulle. “Why?” I asked. “Before I die, I want to know why you did this to me?” I blinked away tears. The pain in my gut hurt but not as badly as the knowledge that I’d let Jo down. I wouldn’t even get the chance to try to save her. Everything I’d done had made things worse.

  “You aren’t going to die,” Sulle said.

  See, you aren’t going to die. Don’t be a baby, Jerome thought.

  “I’m not going to die?” I glanced down at the blood trickling from my body. How was that possible? Then I remembered magic. “Can you heal me?”

  “I told you I’m human,” Sulle said. “I’ve no special powers.” He walked behind me and picked up the large bladed weapon I’d fought with. “Do you know what this is?”

  I shook my head.

  “A batang. A Klingon weapon.”

  Now that he mentioned it, it was vaguely familiar. “Lieutenant Worf used it?”

  “I was really excited when I saw you pick it up. Imagine a sentinel with a batang. How cool would that be!” He shook his head, then dropped the batang and picked up the one of the shortswords I’d dropped. “But no, it had to be a sword. You sentinels could do with having a bit more originality.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Sulle gestured upward with his fingers. “Stand. Come with me.”

  I moved my hands away from my stomach. The blood wasn’t flowing that strongly and the pain was fading. I pushed myself up and, to my surprise, I had the strength to stand. I wiped at the blood on my right bicep and saw that the wound was closed, only an angry red scar remaining, as if the wound was a week old. “What’s going on? If you didn’t heal me, who did?”

  “You’re a sentinel. Normal weapons can’t harm you.”

  “They can’t? I got smashed up pretty badly by a crowbar yesterday evening.”

  “Any ill effects today?” Sulle asked.

  “Not really.”

  “The more often you heal, the easier it’ll happen.”

  I frowned. “So what would happen if my head got chopped off?”

  “I’m not sure. Will we see?” Sulle nodded at Konstance who raised his sword.

  I took a step away. “That’s okay. I’m not that curious.”

  “Come with me.” Sulle turned and walked away, and I followed. My stomach spasmed with pain, but it felt more like bad indigestion than anything serious, and after a few paces, even that pain faded. I lifted up my ragged and bloodied T-shirt, and wiped at the sticky blood around the gash. Clearly the sword had gone through me, but equally clearly, it was healing rapidly.

  Sulle entered an empty corner office which had floor-to-ceiling windows. As I stood beside him, my breath caught in my chest. Twilight had fallen and the lights of the city were winking on one by one. I had never seen Lusteer from such a height before.

  “Do you know what I see?” Sulle asked.

  “Lusteer?”

  “Wealth and power.”

  “I can see wealth.” The skyscrapers of the central business district were the epitome of capitalist greed. “How do you see power?”

  “The secret to power and wealth is not what you’re seeing, but where you are standing when you see it.”

  “The dizzying heights you’ve ascended to.”

  Sulle nodded. “I’ve come a long way from where I started.”

  “Let me guess, the slums. I think I’ve seen that movie.”

  “You aren’t interested in philosophical discussions.” Sulle turned to face me. “You’d prefer to discuss more pressing matters, perhaps. Your friend Jo?”

  “You know about that?” Of course he did. Whoever he really was, he seemed to know everything that mattered. “Can you help?” With the fall of night, Jo might only have an hour or two left.

  Sulle’s eyes gleamed. “I’m not sure you want to be asking me for help. You mightn’t like the price.”

  “Can’t anyone just help those in need any more without talking about costs and prices? We need to set up a Boy Scout charter in Brimstone.”

  Sulle chuckled. “I’d like to see that. We aren’t talking about helping an old woman cross the road, though, are we? There are two sides to consider. You care about Jo, while Hugo Yarley is trying to protect the elemental inside her.”

  I shook my head. “There’s only one side. It’s Jo’s body, and the elemental is trying to kill her and steal the body. There’s a right and wrong here.”

  “If you were born in Brimstone, you’d see it differently.”

  “I thought you were human.”

  “I am. I have come to understand those born in Brimstone.”

  “So you aren’t going to help me?”

  “Not any further.”

  “You’re saying you’ve helped me already? You’ve just had your pet ninja put a sword through me.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That was supposed to help me?” I touched my side again. No permanent damage was done, it seemed, but that didn’t mean I should be grateful.

  “That and other things. Seeing the way forward is a good start.” Sulle nodded toward the door behind me. “The elevator is waiting for you. You better hurry.”

  “Thanks for nothing.” As I walked out, I glanced over my shoulder to see Sulle staring out upon the city again.

  Where you stand, my ass. You just require a few hundred stories of metal and glass as compensation.

  Chapter 32

  Thursday 19:10

  One street down from Burgundy’s, I pulled the Vespa in behind a row of cars and knocked off the engine. I kicked the stand down with my heel, then stepped off. I hadn’t fully straightened the side stand though, and the scooter fell sideways. I didn’t bother picking it up; I just left it lying on the ground.

  On the way over, I’d been thinking about what Sulle had said. Perhaps he had helped me. While it was hard to appreciate that having a foot of metal shoved into my gut could be a good thing, I seemed to have full
y healed from it already. And if it had improved my ability to heal, I couldn’t complain.

  I thought back to the room of weapons, and remembered how Sulle had regretted that I hadn’t made much use of the Klingon weapon, instead only holding my own when I picked up the two shortswords. Bobbit had told me that each sentinel had their own multani. Was that what Sulle’s ninja attack had been all about? Helping me to find my multani?

  Sulle had also said that seeing the way forward was a good start. Knowing that my multani was two shortswords should make it easier for me to summon them.

  I set myself up in a sideways stance and raised my left hand in front of me, leaving my other hand lower, near my right hip. I had taken a year's worth of taekwondo classes, never getting more than a yellow belt, but those classes made that stance natural and it had worked against the ninja.

  I imagined swords of fire in both hands. Nothing. I closed my eyes and tried visualizing it, then quickly opened my eyes. Still nothing. I clenched my eyes shut and tried again. This time, I felt something happening, but I quickly shut it down—a heat had started to form at my core.

  “Idiot.”

  For a moment, I assumed it was Jerome inside my head speaking before realizing the words had been spoken out loud. I opened my eyes to see Alex standing in front of me. “What are you doing here?”

  “The cavalry has arrived to save the day.”

  “Don’t they always arrive too late? Plus, I know you think highly of yourself, but one teen boy isn’t much of a cavalry.”

  “Very funny.” He wasn’t smiling. “I didn’t come alone.”

  “You didn’t?” That was good. “Who did you bring?” Perhaps Alex was going to end up helping. Maybe I had kept him in the dark too much.

  “This way.” Alex crossed the street and opened the back door of a black van.

  Feeling a little uneasy, I followed. Inside the van sat Harriet Ashley and Nathan, her square-shouldered protector.

  I raised my eyebrows at Alex.

  “Just get in, Mr. Russell,” Harriet said. “We should talk.”

  Two narrow bench seats ran along either side of the back of the van, and I sat down. Alex got in behind me, sat down opposite and pulled the door closed.