Brock and Santiago moved amongst the panicking crowds, senses straining out into the gloom. Charlie and Stromberg joined them from the left and Jeter from the right and they advanced in a diamond formation towards what they thought was the direction of the bar.
Suddenly four huge shapes appeared in the fog around them with axes held high. As a team, Empire One took defensive stances and parried the blows. They all felt their bones judder as the creature’s axes clanged off their blades. These Unseelie were frighteningly strong.
Santiago crouched low and slashed at the thick legs of one goat-man. Thick green blood spattered across the dance floor. It howled and kicked at Santiago with a gnarled hoof and he rolled across the floor into the mist clutching his ribs and was lost to view.
Jeter brought up his silenced pistol and put two rounds into the creature’s skull, and it fell back and vanished into the cloud. Then on pure instinct he ducked as an axe whistled an inch from his head. Spinning around, Jeter saw Brock bare his teeth and launch himself at the huge creature, grabbing its thick wrists and grappling with it until it released the axe. With a roar Brock swung the outsized weapon over his head and took the creature’s shaggy head clean off. The body stood there for a moment then collapsed. Brock just stood there smiling, his face covered in green blood. Jeter looked up at him and nodded.
“Thank you Brock. Are you ok?”
“I love axes.”
Jeter got to his feet and resumed a firing stance, scanning out into the gloom and chaos.
“Good for you, big fellow. Good for you.”
Charlie was scanning his pistol out into the fog. Screams came through the fog from all directions, bizarre lights flashed and occasionally bleeding and terrified partygoers ran past them in the mustard haze.
“Boys, have any of you the faintest fucking idea where we are?”
Stromberg joined him at his shoulder, blade held high.
“Where we always are mate. Deepest trouble.”
Another beastman leapt from the yellow fog swinging his axe and Brock rushed in to parry with his own. The force of the blow even managed to stagger the big man, and he lost his footing and rolled backwards, taking the beastman with him and becoming lost in the haze. Santiago, Charlie and Jeter closed in tighter as the silhouettes of more horned figures appeared in the gloom.
Stromberg sunk down into a fighting stance and kept tight contact with his teammates.
“We can’t get separated boys. It’s gonna take all of us to fight these things.”
Santiago’s voice came over their earpieces.
“Boys? I can’t locate you? Think this fog has the same disorienting effect as the stuff we found in Canada.”
Stromberg called in.
“Don’t worry Santiago we’ll find you. Brock, you reading me?”
Nothing.
Stromberg tightened his jaw.
Shit.
He didn’t have time to formulate a plan as suddenly more tall horned shapes began to close in around them.
Laz and Buller were huddled close. They had their backs to the bar to give them some kind of orientation and each of them held an empty beer bottle out as a cudgel.
Laz strained to see through the sickly fog. The flashing lights of the club flickered through it like lightning and from all around were muffled shouts and screams.
Laz held the box that contained the First Knife close to his chest.
“Buller, I’m so sorry I got you into this.”
Buller nudged in front of Laz, shielding him with his ample frame.
“Han needs Chewie.”
Laz wiped the sweat from his face and nodded.
“Whatever happens we can’t let them get this knife.”
“We fight?”
Laz weighed the bottle up in his hand. It felt woefully inadequate.
“If we have to. Yes.”
Malik told me that trouble would find me. It was only a matter of time before I found myself backed against the wall against a room full of monsters. It couldn’t end any other way for me, could it?
Laz struggled to breathe through the choking Unseelie fog. His eyes burned and flowed with tears. He braced himself for whatever was coming.
Suddenly the fog parted in front of him in a long corridor. Through it walked the tall slim black man and the old man in the black hat. They seemed completely unperturbed by the carnage in the club.
As they came closer, it became very apparent to Laz that they were not human. The black man’s eyes were pools of ink and something spiny protruded from the flesh of his wrist. The old man looked like he had been dead for several weeks. Yet his eyes contained the fire of a zealot preacher.
He stopped a few feet from Laz and gave a friendly little wave.
“This is that awkward moment where we’re not sure if we are each other’s blind date.”
Laz thrust the bottle outwards in a vain attempt at threat.
“Don’t come any closer. You can’t have it.”
Cornelius Fortune gave him a coy look from beneath his veiny lids.
“Tease. Little Sally Jean showing a bit of ankle and then not putting out.”
Buller stepped in front of Laz and pushed out his gut. His hands were shaking and his voice cracked but he put on his best show of strength.
“Look skinny, the gentleman doesn’t want to play with you. So why don’t you toddle off.”
Cornelius cocked his head and looked at Buller for a few moments.
“Mr Xzaza.”
The Anansi priest launched forward faster than the eye could see and before he knew it, Buller was staring into his black eyes. Buller coughed once and looked down at the long barb that was sticking in his chest. He turned to Laszlo and shook his head but no words came out. Then Xzaza retracted his hand and a mixture of blood and yellow venom began to seep from Buller’s chest onto his white t shirt. He stared at it in disbelief and then fell backwards and sat down with his back against the bar. His breath came in a short strained wheeze.
Laz stood there frozen. His hand reached out for his friend but his mind was a muddle.
Buller.
Buller struggled to rise but he could not catch his breath. Laz knelt down by his side and tried to stem the liquid bubbling from his friend’s chest but it ran between his fingers.
“It’s ok big fella. I’m right here.”
Cornelius Fortune drew back his thin lips and his long yellow teeth were exposed. It may have been a smile.
“That little trinket you have, salesman. It might be just a rent payer to you, but that little knife is just calling out to us from across the room like a beacon. It would look divine over my mantelpiece. Tell you what, I’ll give you a soul for it.”
Alright Laszlo, let’s do what we do best. Bullshit.
Laz slowly stood up to his unimpressive height. He squared his shoulders and clutched the beer bottle tighter.
“Didn’t you hear my friend? He said you can’t have it.”
Cornelius’s smile sagged and his jaw hung loose. He couldn’t have looked deader.
“Little man, you probably don’t realize it but there are a lot of cosmic level events transpiring here today. Right under the floor beneath your feet, right now, a beautiful woman is reassembling herself in all her feminine glory. The first thing I am going to feed her, is you. I’m going to peel that pasty skin suit off you and present you on a platter.”
Laz felt his resolve crumble. He looked into the steely eyes of the necromancer and found that he was slowly extending the box that held the First Knife towards him.
After all, what harm could it do?
Laz felt Buller’s big hand grasp his leg. He looked down as if woken from a dream and saw his wounded friend gazing up at him with pleading eyes. Suddenly Laz took a step back towards the bar and his expression hardened. He pulled the box away from the necromancer.
“I’m afraid I’ve been made a better offer.”
Cornelius nodded to Xzaza. The tall Anansi priest stepped f
orward and raised his arm. The black thorn protruded from his wrist, dripping venom.
Laz tried not to look at his own death, but he could not tear his eyes away from the deadly barb.
Please don’t hurt too much.
The barbed hand shot forward towards Laszlo’s heart.
Before it got there it was separated from the arm and fell twitching to the floor.
Xzaza stared down at the stump of his wrist in disbelief. Then his gaze moved sideward to the serious looking man holding a Soulblade.
Usher smiled at the priest for a moment and then promptly decapitated him.
Laz just stood there in shock as the Unseelie corpse fell to the ground. He turned to Usher and lamely held out the box containing the First Knife.
Usher smiled and shook his head.
“Can you hold on to it a moment longer please Laz? Just need to finish up here.”
Usher turned to Cornelius Fortune and held his gaze.
“Hello.”
The necromancer took a wary step back but offered Usher a grin.
“Hello.”
“I’ve come for your head.”
Cornelius shrugged and brushed a hand through his greasy corpse hair.
“What, this old thing?”
Usher stood between Laz, Buller and the necromancer. Cornelius drew a swordstick from his coat and cocked his head at Usher. Several large horned figures began to appear in the yellow mist behind him. Cornelius smiled his rotten grin.
“Billy goats gruff.”
Usher tensed and readied for the onslaught. Then more silhouettes began to appear in the fog at his side. The nearest was a hulking figure holding a huge axe.
Hmmm. Not great odds.
The hulking figure stepped from the mist and grinned.
Aaah. That’s better.
“Oh hello Brock. You found an axe.”
“I like axes.”
Brock was closely followed by Charlie, Jeter, Santiago, and Stromberg. All covered head to toe in beastman blood. All spoiling for a fight.
Cornelius Fortune tipped his swordstick at Usher.
“Do you boys always arrive just that bit too late? You were too late to stop us in Carnival, too late to save your friend Ariel, and way too late to stop the Queen waking up. Can’t you hear all the pitter patter of tiny Unseelie feet underground? They know she’s coming.”
“We’re here to pull the plug, Cornelius.”
The necromancer nodded to the box containing the First Knife.
“With that little toothpick? Won’t do you any good.”
Usher took a step forward.
May as well bluff him.
“We got a postcard from Jakanna says otherwise.”
The necromancer fixed Usher’s gaze, sensing the gamble. He stepped back into the yellow fog which gathered around him. The huge beastmen closed ranks and created a wall of shaggy muscle.
“Out of time as always Major Usher. Like the night my boys took your whore and brat to play.”
Empire One squared up to the creatures, which stood with their axes slung across their shoulders. Usher glanced over his shoulder at the team.
“Can you boys keep these pricks busy and the civvies safe?”
Charlie stepped up towards the nearest beastman.
“This is London mate. You’re in my manor. Think it’s time for you wankers to leave.”
Santiago tapped Usher on the shoulder.
“Go after him boss. We’ve got these guys.”
Usher looked at his teammate, and then scanned across at the formidable sight of Empire One ready for a fight. They were weary, bloodied and outnumbered as always, and still the scariest bunch of reprobates he had ever seen. How many years, how many missions had they had his back? Together they had battled walking nightmares countless times, and always ended up laughing about it over a beer.
He knew that the chances were slim that they would survive the night. He knew how unlikely it was that Isaac could disable the temple and render Lilith vulnerable. He knew that once again they were fighting a lost cause. Their war wasn’t just hell. Their war had been against hell.
But damn it if the company hadn’t been great.
He felt his men ready their Soulblades and prepare to run at the hulking therianthropes. He looked beyond them at Cornelius Fortune vanishing into the fog.
Just as Empire One’s war cried mingled with the bellows of the beastmen, Usher ducked past them and sprinted through the mist in pursuit.
26
Isaac stopped and leaned on his knees. His shirt was soaked with sweat and dried blood. He was the most exhausted he had felt in years. The sun was glaring down upon him and he squinted his eyes upwards towards the top of the temple.
“Honey, can your power see anything I don’t?”
Arianna was also breathing hard. They had been climbing the steep sides of the structure for twenty minutes and were still only half way up. The wide steps were hazardous and slippery with moss and trailing vines. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep relaxed breath. Then she consciously released the latent psychic power within her, trying to see behind the glamour that conceals Unseelie magic.
“I’m not sure…wait…yes…there’s something emanating upwards from that hole near the top of the pyramid.”
“Thaumaturgy?”
Arianna nodded.
“Yes. It’s pouring outwards into the sky, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Isaac gritted his teeth and prepared for the final stage of the climb.
“It’s her shield?”
“I think so. So how do we get in Isaac?”
“Well, by the looks of it we have quite a few steps to climb. The hole up near the top where the stone has crumbled. Reckon you can make it?”
Arianna struggled to her feet and dusted down her filthy clothes.
“I can make it, Isaac.”
Isaac stood up and turned out towards the jungle. The view from their height was as dramatic as it was disturbing. He could see above the treeline to the far green horizon. The sheer oppressive scale of the forest was enough to send most men insane. The most worrying thing was that the jungle surrounding the temple for about two miles was warping and mutating, spreading outwards like a blight. Where there should have been lush green there was only charred and blackened thorns. Isaac realized that it was almost impenetrable and without the stone burning a way through they would have never made it this far.
Whatever is happening here it’s growing stronger, more defensive.
“Arianna, why is the jungle changing now?”
Arianna gave Isaac a worried look.
“I can only imagine it’s because of the resurrection of Lilith. Somewhere in London. She’s waking up.”
Isaac took a deep breath and stood up straight. He drew his final reserves of stamina and prepared to climb.
“That means Usher and the boys are probably fighting to destroy her right now. We may only have minutes to do this. Last push?”
Arianna took the last sips from her canteen and passed it to Isaac.
“There’s a tiny bit left.”
Isaac raised the canteen to his parched lips and then froze.
At the bottom of the pyramid, standing alone and quite still amongst the fallen leaves of the forest floor, was a small thin figure. Even from high above, Isaac could see his blue eyes sparkling in contrast to his dark skin. Isaac slowly lowered the canteen and drew his Soulblade.
“Arianna…”
“I see him.”
Uncle Good-Day, the Unseelie spider trickster Anansi, gave them a little wave with his cane. Then he threw it to one side and buckled over as a series of spiny limbs erupted from the leathery flesh of his back. His spine cracked and elongated in horrific jolts as the pygmy grew into something the size of a bull.
Isaac and Arianna slowly back up the steps behind them, their feet slipping on moss and crumbling stone. Arianna slung the bag holding the stone over her shoulder and looked to Isaac f
or direction.
Isaac grabbed her hand. “Whatever happens, don’t stop running. Just use your power and follow that stream of thaumaturgy to its source.”
Arianna shivered. “I will. What about you?”
Isaac clenched his jaw.
“I told Edna I’d give this midget a message for what he did to us.”
Suddenly a horrific screech rose up from below and Uncle Good-Day began to scuttle up the side of the temple at a horrific pace. His sharp legs clattered against the stone surface, finding footholds in the cracks and propelling himself upwards towards Isaac.
“Run.”
Arianna turned and pistoled her legs up the precarious pyramid with all the strength she had left.
Isaac spun the Soulblade in his hands, testing the weight. He felt his heart hammer and the last vestiges of adrenaline course through his veins. The clattering grew louder and Isaac could make out the mutated hybrid face of the spider god. Foot long barbed mandibles protruded from his inflated jaw, yellow venom dripping out to hiss and burn upon the steps.
I’m the only thing standing between this thing and Arianna. If I go down so does she. And if she goes down, so do Usher and the boys.
The giant hybrid Unseelie was almost upon him.
No pressure.
Arianna wanted nothing more than to turn and stand with Isaac, to fight with him to the last, but she knew that if she didn’t destroy the thaumaturgic shield emanating from this temple it would all be for nothing. So she ran.
Arianna powered up the steep crumbling steps of the temple towards the broken section of wall. Her thighs were burning with lactic acid, her lungs gasping to take in more of the humid air. She fumbled with the straps of the bag containing the stone and managed to wrestle it free and hold it in her slippery hands.
The gaping chasm in the wall loomed only twenty metres up ahead.
You’re nearly there, come on girl, soldier up!
Suddenly she stumbled and fell hard onto her elbows. An electrical jolt of pain shot through her bones and she screamed. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes and she rolled on her back. Then she realized with terror that she was no longer holding the stone. She slowly sat up and looked behind her and there is was, balancing precariously on the very edge of one of the steps a few metres below her. If it toppled it would roll and bounce all the way back down, towards the Unseelie monster that was racing up to kill them.
The Last Line Series One Page 80
