Cloak & Ghost: Lost Gate

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Cloak & Ghost: Lost Gate Page 10

by Moeller, Jonathan


  That did it.

  Harper’s expression cracked, and all the rage and hatred seemed to boil across his face. It was like watching a bandage torn away from a poisoned wound and seeing all the pus and infected blood come gushing out.

  She realized that Harper was no longer sane, or at least not in full possession of his reason.

  “This is my hospital!” he screamed. “My hospital! Mine! I’m the one who built it! I did all the work. I brought in the staff, I trained them, I made this hospital the best in the United States. And all the while, I had that woman lecturing me and hectoring me, acting like she was better than me, smarter than me! I went to medical school! How dare she tell me what to do?”

  “Yes, it’s like she paid for everything at the hospital,” said Caina.

  Her sarcasm went right over Harper’s head. “God, I hated that woman! I dreamed about killing her. Then I found the book. My mother died, and when I went through her attic, I found a trunk of old books. One of them was the Codex. My great-grandfather was in the Wizard’s Legion and must have kept a copy of the book. It showed me how to summon the maelogaunt.” He grinned, his eyes glittering. “I didn’t even need to use my own blood. This is a hospital, my hospital, and I am the Chief of Medicine. It was easy to get blood, and I opened the door to the Shadowlands. I bound the maelogaunt,” the glitter in his eyes got worse, “and it spoke to me, it showed me such wonderful, wonderful things…”

  “It is twisting your thoughts,” said Riordan, voice quiet. “Sometimes creatures from the Shadowlands can corrupt the wills of their summoners. That’s what the maelogaunt has been doing to you. It might have been teaching you magic, but it’s been driving you insane, making you into its puppet…”

  Harper laughed. “You don’t understand. It’s shown me the truth. The newborns? That’s just the beginning. The vivid, fresh memories are making it stronger, and it feeds some of that strength to me. I can use magic now, and soon I will become as powerful as an Elven noble.” He grinned. “Then the maelogaunt gave me a better idea. Why not take Andromache and her preening oaf of a husband to Lost Gate?”

  “Lost Gate?” said Nadia.

  “I’m going to bet,” said Riordan, “that’s what the maelogaunt calls its domain in the Shadowlands.”

  “If I take them to the webs of Lost Gate,” said Harper, “the maelogaunt can feed on them for decades. That will repay Andromache for all the slights and the condescension and the barbed comments. I will become so much stronger.”

  “Maybe,” said Caina. “How will that help you as Chief of Medicine of this hospital? Did the maelogaunt decide to explain that at all?”

  Harper blinked, and a look of terrible confusion came over his face.

  “It’s not too late,” said Riordan. “You haven’t actually killed anyone yet. The maelogaunt has your thinking all twisted around. You might think that you’re using it, but the creature is actually using you. Come with us, and I can help you.”

  The confusion vanished, and Harper’s eyes glittered again.

  “The maelogaunt said you might say that,” said Harper, “so it invited some friends here.”

  Caina frowned. Friends? What sort of friends would a maelogaunt have? No, minions. A powerful creature of the Shadowlands could command lesser ones, and Harper was looking towards the ceiling…

  She looked up and saw the anthrophages.

  A dozen of the creatures clung to the steel beams of the ceiling like insects. The anthrophages looked vaguely humanoid, with gaunt, gray-skinned bodies, black claws jutting from their fingers and toes, black fangs filling their wide mouths. Their eyes were a sulfurous yellow, and they had no noses, only black craters in the center of their faces.

  “Above us!” shouted Caina, and she took a quick step back, raised her pistol over her head, and started shooting.

  She was a good shot and had fired tens of thousands of rounds in practice sessions over the years. Even surprised, her aim was good, and she managed to shoot three of the anthrophages through the head before the creatures realized that they had been spotted. Riordan and Nadia reacted a second later, and Riordan killed three more, and Nadia one. But the surviving anthrophages leaped from the ceiling, falling like gray-skinned meteors, and a half-dozen more raced from around another the air handlers.

  Caina had to dodge to avoid a landing anthrophage. The creature hit the ground on all fours and surged up, and Caina swung her gun to aim at its head. Before she could pull the trigger, the anthrophage slashed at her with its claws, and Caina dodged. Its hand struck her pistol and knocked the weapon from her grasp. The anthrophage hissed and lunged for her again, claws coming up.

  It met the white fire of Caina’s valikon as she summoned the weapon and drove it forward. The blade ripped through the anthrophage’s throat with a sizzling sound, and the creature fell choking to the floor. Another anthrophage leaped at her, and Caina stabbed it through the heart with the valikon. The white fire along the blade blazed brighter, and the anthrophage went limp as it died.

  A third started to attack, but Riordan intercepted it. That manifested black sword had appeared in his hand, and he sliced the anthrophage in half without noticeable difficulty. Magic burned before Caina’s valikarion vision as Nadia cast a spell, her face twisted in a snarl. A sphere of whirling fire appeared above her hand, and she gestured and sent it flying out. It drilled a tunnel through the head of an anthrophage, kept going, and blasted through the heads of a half-dozen more anthrophages.

  They fell like puppets with cut strings.

  Nadia’s spell had killed nearly all the remaining anthrophages, so Caina whirled, intending to deal with Harper. He had grabbed the book from the table and now stood over the prone forms of Andromache and Winston. A slight figure cloaked in greasy gray robes stood with him, power blazing around it as the creature cast a spell.

  The maelogaunt was opening a rift way.

  Caina leaped at Harper, but it was too late. The maelogaunt angled the rift way so the gate swallowed it up along with Harper, Andromache, and Winston, and all four of them vanished as the gate snapped closed.

  Her valikon sliced through the empty air.

  She stumbled, cursed, and looked around.

  “Is that all of them?” snapped Nadia. There was a harsh light to her eyes, something darker than the usual stress of combat. She clearly hated anthrophages.

  “I think so,” said Caina. A score of anthrophages lay dead around them. Caina had only accounted for five of the creatures. Nadia and Riordan were formidable when they worked together.

  “Where did Harper go?” said Riordan. “I saw the maelogaunt…”

  “Rift way,” said Caina. “Harper must have called it. The creature opened another rift way and took Harper, Andromache, and Winston with it back to its domain, this Lost Gate.” She shook her head. “And we can’t follow them…”

  “Oh, yes, we can,” said Nadia. “I know the rift way spell.”

  “You do?” said Caina. In hindsight, it was obvious. Nadia would not have survived the battle in New York without it.

  “Yep,” said Nadia. She squatted along the base of the air handler, picked up a chip of concrete and loose screw, and stuffed them into a pocket. “Anchors to help us get back. But here’s the plan. I’m going to open a rift way, and we’re going to follow Harper, kill him and his pet maelogaunt, and get those people and free the newborns. Any objections?”

  “Good plan,” said Riordan.

  “Lead the way,” said Caina.

  “Actually, you and Riordan will have to go first,” said Nadia, flexing her fingers. “I’ll have to go last to close the rift way after us. All right. Here we go.”

  She frowned with concentration, gestured, and cast the spell. A curtain of mist rose up from the spot where Harper had disappeared, and it opened into a rift way. Through the rift way, Caina glimpsed the strange, fire-lit cavern she had seen earlier during her first confrontation with the maelogaunt.

  “Let’s go,” said Riord
an. Caina nodded, and she followed him through the gate.

  ***

  Chapter 8: Lost Gate

  Let me tell you, rift ways are weird.

  Physically, it’s just taking one step. Like stepping off the curb and into the street. But that one step is taking you from Earth to the Shadowlands, the strange realm that’s the source of magical power and that connects every world. You can feel that vast distance when you take that single step, feel that moment of disorientation and dislocation.

  But I was used to the sensation by now, and I forced it aside as I stepped through the rift way and let the spell dissipate behind me.

  Because the Shadowlands might have been the source of magic, but it was filled with dangerous and powerful creatures, many of which liked to dine upon humans.

  At once I felt the surge of power. Because the Shadowlands were the source of magic, there was a lot more magical power available here, and consequently, my spells were stronger. It took some mental discipline to keep the torrent of burning strength from overwhelming my mind, but I had a lot of practice at that.

  I caught my balance and looked around, holding spells ready to strike.

  To my mild surprise, I was in a cave.

  A big cave. Like, the size of a good-sized church. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like stone fangs, crystals glittered and flashed in the walls, and the floor was rough and uneven. I had no trouble seeing because there were pools of molten stone scattered across the floor. They gave off a harsh red-orange light, but despite their glow, the cavern was cool, almost cold. I was already cold from using magic, and if not for my armor and motorcycle jacket, I would have started shivering.

  Caina and Riordan stood nearby, valikon and Shadowmorph blade ready. I had seen Caina use her valikon several times before, so I was used to how the Elven hieroglyphics on the blade glowed. I was not, however, used to seeing the entire weapon glow white like it had been made out of light instead of that weird silvery metal. Caina staggered a few steps to the side, blinked, and caught her balance.

  “You okay?” I said, scanning the cavern for any sign of Harper or the maelogaunt. If I spotted Harper, I was just going to blast his head off. That would break his control over the maelogaunt, which would make it easier to handle.

  Though I wondered if Harper was still the one in control.

  “Yeah,” said Caina. “Yeah.” She blinked again and shook her head. “It’s just…I’m a valikarion. I can see magic. The Shadowlands are composed of magic and nothing else. So whenever I come here…”

  “The sight’s a little overwhelming, I bet,” I said.

  “A little bit,” she said, raising her valikon in guard. The light from the weapon made her face look harsh and stark and fierce.

  “It doesn’t look like there’s anyone here,” said Riordan. “And three tunnels are leading off from this chamber.”

  “Does your aetherometer still have its link?” said Caina.

  “Yep.” Riordan handed me the instrument and gazed at the dials. “Looks like Harper went…that way.” I pointed at one of the tunnels. “Let’s follow him.”

  “He’s not thinking clearly,” said Caina. “There’s no telling what he might do.”

  “Then we’ll find him before he can get his act together to do something,” I said. “We’d better get moving.”

  Riordan nodded. “I’ll take point. Nadia, you bring up the back. Caina, if you see anything unusual, let us know at once. And try not to trip into any of those pools of molten stone.”

  “Odd that they’re not giving off any heat,” I said. “It ought to be unbearably hot in here. Instead, it’s chilly.”

  “That’s because this place is a memory,” said Caina.

  I frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Maelogaunts eat memories,” said Riordan. “And they use memories to build their domains inside the Shadowlands. Like a caterpillar spinning a cocoon around itself.”

  “Or a spider spinning a web,” said Caina.

  Cheery thought, that.

  “So this little domain that the maelogaunt controls,” I said. “It’ll be made entirely out of…digested memory shit?”

  “Not quite the technical term,” said Riordan, his voice going dry, “but, yes, that’s accurate.”

  “Wonder what this place was a memory of?” I said, glancing around the cavern. We had almost reached the tunnel entrance, a dark mouth yawning in the stone wall.

  “I think it was a nightmare,” said Caina. “I think it was some child’s nightmare of hell.”

  I blinked, and then saw what she meant. The gloomy cavern, the stalactites like fangs, the simmering pools of molten stone that didn’t give off any actual heat, the tangled shadows that might hide an army of monsters…it did look like a child’s nightmare of a fire and brimstone hell.

  “Great décor,” I said. “Hey, Riordan, when we buy a house, let’s not hire the maelogaunt as an interior decorator.”

  Riordan snorted, once, and he stepped into the tunnel. Caina and I followed him, the same red light illuminating the tunnel. The floors and walls and ceilings were all rough stone, and there was no obvious source for the light.

  “The environment’s about to change,” said Caina. “I can see the alteration in the magical aura.”

  I started to ask what that meant, and then the tunnel blurred and melted and shifted around us.

  When the distortion stopped, we found ourselves walking down a street in a war zone. Around us rose bombed-out apartment buildings, fires dancing in their interiors, their windows like empty eyes. Rubble choked the street, and wrecked cars lined the curb. A thick layer of dust lay over everything, likely scattered by the explosions that had ruined the apartment buildings. The sky was the empty black vault of the Shadowlands, though I had no trouble seeing.

  “This is different,” I said, looking around, holding my magic ready to strike.

  “I think this is a city somewhere in the Middle East,” said Caina, pointing at one of the doorways. “That sign is in Arabic.”

  “This must be someone’s memory of an Archon attack,” said Riordan. “Or one of the wars the local governments tried to start before the High Queen shut them down.”

  “Great, just what we need, someone’s memory of a war zone,” I said, consulting my aetherometer. “We need to keep moving down this street.”

  “Same order as before,” said Riordan.

  He led the way forward, and we had to circle around the piles of rubble strewn across the asphalt. I wondered what this memory had originally been. An Archon attack? Or maybe homegrown terrorism, there was never any shortage of that in Asia.

  Then a flicker of motion caught my eye, and an anthrophage leaped out from between two buildings and raced towards us, clawed feet rasping against the rubble.

  ###

  Caina whirled, bringing up her valikon in guard, and dozens of anthrophages rushed from the alleys lining the dusty street.

  Her throat went dry in sudden alarm. God, there were so many of the damned things.

  She could handle a few of them in a straight fight, but not so many at once. If guns worked in the Shadowlands, it might have been different, but here Caina only had the edge of her valikon and the strength of her arm. Even with the help of Riordan, they might be overwhelmed.

  “Keep them off me!” shouted Nadia, and she started casting a spell.

  An anthrophage lunged at Caina, and she intercepted it, dodging its claws as she drove her valikon across his throat. Riordan wheeled next to her, chopping his Shadowmorph blade right and left, and two anthrophages fell apart in piles of twitching gray limbs and glistening black gore. But a dozen more rushed at Caina, and soon she would not even have room to swing her valikon.

  Then a tremendous amount of magical power surged near her, and Nadia cast her spell.

  Seven globes of snarling, spitting lightning leaped from her hand, and each one struck an anthrophage. Fingers of lightning shot up and down the anthrophages, and they fell
twitching to the ground, smoke rising from their bodies as the lightning cooked their innards. Only one of the charging anthrophages made it to Caina, and she stabbed it in the chest and kicked it off her sword.

  In the time it took her to do that, Nadia cast another spell. A curtain of white mist rose from the street and hardened into a wall of glittering ice ten feet tall, a foot thick, and thirty wide. The sudden appearance of the frozen barrier split the mob of anthrophages in half. Nadia struck again, a thumb-sized sphere of fire leaping from her fingers and drilling through the skull of the nearest anthrophage. The sphere kept going, blasting tunnels through the heads of the anthrophages and throwing their bodies to the ground.

  And as Nadia hurled destructive magic at their enemies, Caina and Riordan fought. The combination of the ice wall and Nadia’s spells scattered the anthrophages, and only a few survived her wrath. Those that did met either Caina’s valikon or Riordan’s Shadowmorph blade. The big Shadow Hunter was a fearsomely good swordsman, his balance and stance perfect, his sword slashing right and left. As the fight went on, he seemed to become faster, his hands blurring. His Shadowmorph was feeding on the slain anthrophages, giving some of that stolen energy to Riordan as strength and speed. A weak man would let that derange him or drive him into a frenzy. But no matter how fast he became, Riordan still fought with the same cool control.

  Caina wouldn’t have lasted five seconds against him in a swordfight. She was glad he was on her side.

  She cut down another anthrophage with a two-handed blow from her valikon, and then silence fell over the bombed-out street. Dead anthrophages lay scattered on the ground around them like broken toys, some of them ripped apart, others still on fire. No more of the creatures emerged from the alleys or the ruined buildings. Caina turned, looking for more enemies…

  Then stopped, alarm going through her.

  Nadia looked like she was about to snap.

  Her chest rose and fell with the rapid draw of her breath, and her face had become a bloodless mask, her lips pulled back from her teeth in a feral snarl. Her eyes were utterly crazed, and she looked like she wanted to start hurling magic in every direction, killing with every spell.

 

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