Finally, allies! We can still win this.
We have to!
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
THE FINAL
ARGUMENT OF KINGS
VERGESS SPRINTED OVER. HE GRABBED Geist by the shoulder and pushed her toward the Paris Guns, never saying a word. Battery and Blick ran onto the battlefield next, Blick’s eyes glowing gold.
“The crown prince is here,” he announced as he brought up his rifle, his eyes giving him unparalleled aim. “He’s mine if I get a good shot.”
“Battery!” Geist called out. “I need you!”
Battery and ran over and held out his hand. She grabbed it, taking his power the moment their skin touched.
When she returned her gaze to Caveat, she grimaced. The fight was already over. The monster had no control over its own strength and had already torn Caveat into quarters, leaving entrails splattered across the field. Prince Leopold bent down and snatched up Caveat’s anti-gas grenade. Soaked in blood and laughing, he crushed the device in his hand, rotting it away with runia sorcery.
There were six guns. They’d made six grenades. They didn’t have an extra.
“We’re in trouble,” Blick said, parroting Geist’s thoughts. “Geist, what’re you still doing here? Take out a gun!”
Battery shook his head. “Oh, God, if the prince is here, he’ll kill us all. We need to—”
“You need to get Heinrich,” Geist said, pushing Battery back toward the front line. “Right now, do you understand me? It’s of the top priority!”
“What? Why?”
“We need him if we’re going to stop all the guns! Hurry, Battery!”
Battery’s face said what his voice could not. Him? By himself? Would he make it?
Couldn’t he stay with her?
But Geist had no time to answer.
“That’s an order,” she stated. And then, in a gentler tone, “Trust me.”
Battery took in a ragged breath and nodded. Without another word, he turned on his heel and ran back the way he came. Geist watched him go, but stopped once she was sure he wouldn’t turn back around.
He’ll make it. He’s never let me down.
The grunt and growl of the abominations caught Geist’s attention. They lumbered forward under the command of the prince. Geist became invisible and lashed out at the first monster that approached. She wanted to reach in and mess with its insides, but the magi-tech suit it wore prevented her hand from passing through. She placed her palm on the chest of the beast to no effect. It swung, feeling her touch, and slammed her to the side. She hit the dirt, reappearing for a brief second, before stumbling to her feet. The creature’s suit wasn’t affected by magic in any way; Caveat’s magic had been powerless against it and so was hers.
But bullets still harmed the creature. Blick fired with supernatural accuracy, striking the abomination in the head, reloaded, and fired again. The beast turned toward him, but it was already too late. Five more bullets and it was stumbling, practically lobotomized.
When the second abomination came, Vergess’s brute strength made short work of the monster. He punched the creature in the gut, dazing it, then lifted his opponent into the air and slammed it back to the dirt. A powerful stomp to the throat filled the gasmask with the sounds of wet breaths and gurgling. The abomination flailed on the ground, drowning in its own blood.
Geist straightened herself just in time for Leopold’s renewed attack. He galloped in on his steed, aiming for Vergess. Before the prince could reach his target, Geist held out her hand and ghosted it into the horse, ranking her fingers along the organs of the gut. She felt no heartbeat, which disturbed her, but when her fingers caught hold of sinew, the horse lost its footing and tumbled to the ground, throwing its rider in the process.
Prince Leopold picked himself off the ground, annoyance flickering across his face, but otherwise he was unharmed. As he brushed himself off, Blick hefted his rifle and fired. The bullet removed a small bit of dark hair, but had no long lasting impact.
“The eyes”, Vergess called out. “Apex sorcery doesn’t harden the eyes.”
“Is that right?” Blick replied as he reloaded his rifle and fired, striking the prince across an eyebrow, taking another small amount of hair. “Get in there, Vergess. I’ll cover you.”
Vergess nodded. He and Leopold regarded each other as they began to circle, each man looking for an opening to strike.
“I ought to have recognized you sooner,” Leopold said. “Wilhelm Richter. Traitor to the Kaiser.”
Vergess straightened his shoulders and spit in Prince Leopold’s direction, his saliva hitting the other man’s boots. “You’re a dog wearing the skin of man, and you always will be.”
“You’ll die for your betrayal.”
“Maybe I need a new title. Wilhelm Richter, the Ender of Kings.”
Prince Leopold laughed aloud and leveled his sword at Vergess. “I’ll enjoy running my blade through your heart.”
“You can try.”
As much as she wanted to stay and help Vergess fight her former fiancé, she forced herself to turn away. She had a mission to complete, and it didn’t involve killing every Magic Hunter, Abomination Soldier, and magi-tech monster that crossed her path. Instead, she ran back to her Paris Gun. No one saw her, not through her sorcery, and she reached the massive supergun without further delay.
A lone gunner occupied the machine’s cockpit, and Geist reached her hand inside the man, ripping his throat out with a jerk of her fingers. He slumped and panicked as she ran for the bombshell compartment. Two more soldiers rushed to the dying gunner, providing Geist enough time to rip open the hatch and examine the GH Gas shell.
She pulled the pin on her grenade, opened the release on the shell, and tossed the grenade in before the escaping gas could come into contact with her skin.
Geist didn’t know if the other teams had made it—Caveat certainly hadn’t—but she hoped beyond hope they had. She wouldn’t be able to do the entire mission by herself, though she was determined to try to cover Caveat’s failure. While everyone else handled one gun, she would have to handle two.
And in the same moment, she realized that Battery’s power still lingered with her, far beyond what she could remember his limits before. He’s stronger than he was, she realized. I’ll need to tell him that, if we make it out of this alive.
Geist ran back into the open mud field that separated the Paris Guns from the German army. To her dismay, Vergess and Blick were still locked in conflict with Prince Leopold, and it was apparent who would be the winner.
When Leopold swung with his sword, he cut Vergess’s steel flesh, carving piece after piece out of his chest. Their ruina sorcery cancelled each other’s, preventing Vergess from using his most deadly magic. And when Vergess came in fast, the prince used tempest sorcery to unbalance him and leap away.
Blick fired with as much precision as his weapon would allow, but Leopold washed the battlefield in fire, not harming Vergess but burning most of Blick’s forearms and catching his rifle ablaze, rendering it useless. When Blick tried to draw his sidearm, Leopold sent a bolt of white-hot lightning arcing towards him, striking him in the shoulder and neck and sending him flying backwards.
Vergess lunged, but Leopold kicked him hard in the side, cracking ribs with a sickening crunch, even through Vergess’s bulletproof skin. It sent him sliding through the mud. Vergess coughed blood and took in breaths as though each mouthful of air was more painful than the last. He struggled to roll sideways, one arm wrapped tight over his shattered ribcage.
Geist ran full tilt toward Prince Leopold, her heart pounding. She sprinted the final distance, right as the prince levied his sword over Vergess, and swiped with her hand, cleaving a chunk of skin and muscle out of the prince’s side.
Leopold screamed in agony as he fell to one knee.
Geist dragged Vergess back a few feet. He coughed up another mouthful of blood, his ribs having no doubt punctured his lung. The prince cradled his injury,
a wound that would have finished any other sorcerer. But then his flesh knit itself back together, healing the damage almost as fast as Geist had dealt it. His tunic, ripped where Geist had attacked, dripped vital fluid onto his trousers and boots, but the wound itself had already vanished.
“You’ll pay for that,” Leopold said through gritted teeth. “You stupid bitch. You’ll regret every decision that ever led to our paths crossing.”
Geist let Vergess rest back on the ground and then ran toward Leopold again, her feet splashing in the mud. He watched her footprints as she drew closer and he swung with his sword.
To no effect.
Geist reached a hand into his shoulder and pulled back, damaging him again when no other weapons could. The prince leapt backward, his feet were unsteady beneath him. He healed the injury again, but his bravado waned. He glanced around the field, his eyes searching her footfalls in the soft mud.
Then his eyes widened.
“You’re Markus Cavell’s missing daughter,” he said. “That cow he promised me for a bride.”
“Consider this our honeymoon.”
Leopold laughed uneasily and wheeled towards the sound of her voice. “You think you can run from me? Hurt me? No one can.”
Geist rushed forward again. She clawed at his arm, tearing through his uniform and flesh yet again. He healed, faster than the last two times, and held his sword close, his eyes narrowed.
Much to Geist’s horror, Battery finally reached his distance limit. She felt his power drain from her body, and her invisibility faded.
“There you are!” the prince hissed.
He raised his sword and slashed downwards with incredible force. With his immense strength, Geist was sure he would cleave her skull in two, but not while she ghosted.
“You want to pretend to be a man?” he asked with a laugh. “Then you can die like a man.”
Geist took a step back, her legs unsteady. Without Battery, she couldn’t attack him.
He swung his hand, and a blast of wind sent Geist tumbling back across the battlefield. Leopold strode toward her, twirling his blade in his hand. “I didn’t realize specter sorcery was so powerful. I thought it was all smoke and mirrors. But if it can make a woman into soldier, our betrothal makes much more sense. The emperors of Austria should have this sorcery. I can’t believe it’s not in my bloodline.
“Maybe I’ll take you for my bride, after all.”
Geist forced her breathing to slow. When Leopold came at her again, she dodged aside and rolled through the mud. As she struggled to get to her feet, he slashed. She stumbled through him, ghosting herself enough to make it past.
In that moment, she realized her own sorcery had improved. She feared using Battery’s power would steal from her development, but her clothing shimmered and shifted, becoming just as incorporeal as the flesh beneath. Geist focused harder, and to her immense relief, the invisibility returned, though it took more strength to maintain than when she had Battery’s aid. She struggled to move with any speed—her willpower consumed by the strain of maintaining her magic—but the focus made her body feel lighter.
Apex sorcery had become a part of her, something she could rely on, if only a little.
She moved away from Leopold, keeping her feet in patches of grass to avoid detection.
“Show yourself!” Leopold shouted, his voice drowned out by another round of aerial bombardment. When the bombs stopped he gritted his teeth. “Show yourself, you craven bitch! I’ll kill you once I find you! Do you hear me? I’ll—”
He stopped himself short.
Then he smiled a cruel smile.
“Drop your sorcery,” Prince Leopold demanded. “Or I’ll order your family killed.”
Geist froze. The tone of his voice, laced with that cruel chuckle—she knew he was serious. He would do it. He’d order them killed. And while she might not have much love for her parents, there was always Dietrich to worry about. Sweet, gentle Dietrich.
He would die because of her.
Geist looked at the prince and then to the Paris Gun. The barrel tilted back and the loading chamber set itself into the firing position. Even one shell would kill thousands, perhaps millions, if it hit the city proper. She had to end the fight—one way or another—before she could handle the gun, lest the prince stop her outright with his overwhelming sorcery.
I have to deal with Leopold before the gun, but Dietrich… She shook her head. I’m sorry.
She ran for the prince and she reached out to harm him again. When she drew near, he slashed and jumped back. The blade slashed through her face and cut the shoulder of her uniform before making contact with her corrupted arm—the arm that could not become incorporeal like the rest of her.
In the single swing, it sliced from her elbow down to her knuckles, opening up her forearm like a peapod. Geist stumbled back and grabbed her injury, her invisibility flicking out.
The pain that erupted inside her was blinding.
Keep it together! You can’t fail now!
“Geist!”
She turned and spotted Battery entering the field, Heinrich at his side. One part of her felt relief—more confident with Battery nearby—but another piece of her wanted him to run. He would stand no chance against the prince.
Heinrich’s appearance sent a ripple through the battlefield that halted movement. He and Leopold made eye contact, staring at each other for a short period of time. Geist took the moment to wrap her dangling arm in bits of her ruined uniform. She bit her lip and tongue to keep from crying out as she dressed the wound as best she could
Heinrich squinted and moved away from Battery. “Prince Leopold,” he called out. “Thank God you’re here, I need your help! I was taken hostage by the Ethereal Squadron!”
His declaration surprised Geist. She stared the researcher, eyes wide. What is he doing? Geist had been depending on his help to stop the last gun. What’re we going to do if he returns to the Germans?
Prince Leopold smiled.
Geist took note of Vergess’s movement. He pulled himself off the ground despite the injuries, his breath still rough and wet.
When Battery turned to help Vergess, Heinrich broke away and sprinted for Leopold. Battery pulled up his Lancaster handgun and took aim. He stopped himself from shooting and cursed under his breath. Heinrich reached Leopold’s side with a huff and slight bow of his head.
“Your majesty,” he muttered.
“Get behind me,” Prince Leopold commanded. “I’ll deal with you later.” He glanced around the battlefield once more, his cruel smile returning. “This is your last chance, woman. Surrender or I’ll kill your whole family right in front of you, I swear it!”
Heinrich stepped behind the prince. He then reached out and touched Leopold’s exposed skin, his fingers lingering on the flesh for less than a second. The one touch—a feather-graze of contact—and the prince screamed. He cringed and half doubled over. Geist took in a long breath. The chill in the air that accompanied Leopold’s magic dissipated. Heinrich had stolen it or shut it down, Geist didn’t know which. But it didn’t matter.
The prince could no longer use his magic.
Geist hurled herself forwards, hand outstretched like a claw, and with all the power she could muster she raked her fingers through the prince’s chest, taking a heavy chunk of flesh with a single, savage swipe. But even this failed to slay him: in the following moment, the prince set his teeth and yanked his sword up, carving into her arm a second time.
Then the prince rounded on Heinrich, but stopped when he saw Vergess heading his way. With an arm over his injured chest—blood pouring from him in almost alarming amounts—Leopold whistled for his horse. The beast had been lying on the ground the entire time, unmoving, but at the sound of the whistle, it dragged itself back to its feet once again. Leopold grabbed the reins and mounted with a pained snarl.
Vergess rushed forward, but in his injured state, even apex sorcery couldn’t lend him the speed he needed. Leopold yanked the re
ins and galloped away, back into the safety of the German back ranks.
The clicking of the turntables stopped.
Time was up—even the German soldiers knew it. Men from the frontlines were backing up and soldiers filtered out in the open field.
“Vergess,” Geist called out. “Vergess, I need your help!”
He limped over, his breathing laboring.
“Get Blick,” she commanded.
“Geist, I—”
She shoved him in the opposite direction. Vergess nodded as he attempted to do what Geist had done—apply pressure and stop the flow of blood from his wound.
Geist, shaking, turned to Battery and Heinrich. “We don’t have any time. We need to go. Now.”
“What’re we doing?” Battery asked.
“Come with me. Vergess and Blick too. To the gun.”
She ran toward the gun Caveat had been assigned—the only one locked into position—and tried to ignore the strange cocktail of emotions pounding through her veins. The battle raged, but she couldn’t focus on any of it. Her body acted on autopilot as she ran straight up to the enemy’s weaponry, her newfound apex sorcery giving her the endurance she needed.
Geist pulled her sidearm and shot the gunner, but she knew that wouldn’t matter. Her fight with Leopold had consumed too much time. The gun had been set and the machines were in motion. The next few soldiers that rushed up were killed by Battery’s Lancaster.
Heinrich glanced around, shielding his eyes with one hand. “This is going to fire,” he said. “Where’s the anti-gas grenade?”
“It’s gone,” Geist replied. “We have to set the shell off now. Right now. Before the gun fires.”
“If we do that, the gas will be released. Right here.”
“I know, but it’s the only way.”
I’m sorry, Vergess—I’m sorry, everybody.
“We’ll die,” Battery murmured, his eyes round.
Geist grabbed him by the hand and then grabbed Heinrich. “Not if we’re immune,” she whispered. “Do you trust me?”
Before she heard their answer, without even looking them in the eyes, Geist turned around and opened the hatch to the Paris Gun. The shell within, locked into the firing position, sat before her. She didn’t think. She didn’t want to think.
The Ethereal Squadron: A Wartime Fantasy (The Sorcerers of Verdun) Page 38
