Thief Trap

by Jonathan Moeller

  “Someone’s casting a spell in there!” said Hailey. “It…”

  There was a burst of cold wind, and invisible force seized me and yanked me forward. I felt an instant of whirling disorientation, and then I recognized the spell. It was a grip of telekinetic force, and it dragged me into the office area. I snarled and cast a spell of my own, sheathing my legs in telekinetic force, and I hammered my feet against the floor. My shoes scraped against the concrete, and the telekinetic grip around me vanished. I stumbled, caught my balance, and looked back at the tunnel.

  Only to see that it had been sealed off.

  A shimmering wall of purple light and twisting shadow closed off the doorway to the tunnel. I saw the others standing behind it, and the translucent wall must have blocked off the sound because it looked like they were arguing about what to do while Morelli and Hailey kept watching the summoning circles. I couldn’t hear a thing, though.

  Someone had cast that barrier over the doorway.

  Someone had also cast the telekinetic spell that had pulled me into the room.

  I turned again, my eyes sweeping the office area and its rows of desks. There were a billion different hiding places. I cast the spell to sense magical forces, and at once I detected the flow of dark magic that maintained the translucent wall. It was strong, and I also felt another surge of power as the unseen wizard began another spell…

  I reacted at once, casting the Shield spell that Mr. Vander had taught me in Milwaukee and charging it with the energy of regeneration. A blast of shadow fire, similar to the ones Nicholas and Hailey used, hurtled from one of the cubicles and slammed into my Shield. The impact staggered me, but my Shield held, and I gritted my teeth and called magical fire to my free hand, the sphere whirling over my fingers as I prepared to strike.

  A pale shape moved out of a cubicle, coming closer. I tensed, focusing my will. Whatever that pale shape was, it had to be one of the more powerful creatures of the Shadowlands, one that could cast spells. And it had to be a strong one, a creature strong enough to hold that wall in place and to attack at the same time. Best to hit it as hard as I could and end the fight quickly.

  The pale shape took another step closer, and I flung the fireball, intending it to drill into one side of the pale creature and out the other.

  But I saw the flare of a Shield spell, and my fireball slammed into it.

  In the glare of the competing spells, I saw the creature.

  It was six feet tall and so fat that it was nearly as wide as it was tall, maybe even a little wider. Its hide was the color of bleached bone, which made the black claws jutting from its long fingers all the more noticeable from the contrast. It had a black crater for a nose, and a wide, frog-like mouth filled with fangs.

  The bloated creature with an anthrophage elder. Regular anthrophages were gaunt and lean. But if they lived long enough and ate enough people, they got bigger and stronger. The fat didn’t slow the anthrophage down at all and would make it stronger and faster. Even worse, anthrophage elders could use magic, and the older they got, the more powerful they became.

  All that was bad enough.

  But there was something strange about this anthrophage elder.

  Its eyes should have been a venomous yellow, but shadows and purple fire twisted and writhed around them. It almost looked like its eyes bled purple light and shadow.

  The anthrophage was possessed by a Dark One.

  I had never seen anything like that before.

  Then it got even stranger.

  The elder stopped and smiled its big fang-filled smile at me.

  “Nadia Moran,” it said, its voice a croaking, hideous gurgle. “The human magus.”

  “Hi,” I said, watching the creature. How the hell did it know who I was? “I don’t think we’ve met. I would have remembered it.”

  “You have been known to us for a long time now,” said the elder. Or, rather, the Dark One that was controlling the creature. “We have seen you through the eyes of our vessels. You killed Paul McCade. You slew Sergei Rogomil. The children of the void who dwelled in their flesh saw you, and returned to our courts and spoke of you. You stopped Baron Castomyr from summoning a monarch of our kind to La Crosse, and the Forerunner has chosen you as his instrument.”

  “Gosh,” I said. “That’s so sweet that you remember.”

  “And now I wish to speak with you,” said the Dark One.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Or you want to eat me. I think that’s probably it.”

  To my surprise, a dry note entered that hideous voice. “One can have two different desires at the same time, magus. Consider the doorway. Have I not arranged matters so we can speak together, without anyone overhearing us?”

  I risked a quick glance back at the door. The purple barrier was still in place, and I still couldn’t hear any sound through it.

  “What the hell do you want to talk about?” I said, swinging my gaze back to the bloated creature. “I suppose if you’ve been locked down here for the last three hundred years, you’re kind of starved for news.”

  “This world will soon belong to us,” said the Dark One. “Nicholas Connor is also the Forerunner’s instrument. When he wields the Sky Hammer and destroys the High Queen, the defenses of Earth shall be broken. The Archons will conquer this world in a month, and Earth shall be ours, just as Kalvarion is.”

  “Kalvarion is yours?” I said, puzzled. The Archons ruled Kalvarion…but the Archons worshipped the Dark Ones. “Oh, wait, I get it. Kalvarion’s like…like a cattle lot for you, isn’t it? See, everyone says you idiots go around destroying worlds like locusts. But that’s a lot of work, isn’t it? Wipe out one world, and you have to find another one that might fight back. But if you enslave the world, you can raise generations of people for you to consume. That’s why the Archons have labor camps on Kalvarion, I’ll bet, so you have life energy to eat. You’ve probably got the Archons all twisted around to think it’s for the glory of their dumbass revolution or whatever, but you’re the one pulling the strings.”

  The Dark One let out a hissing laugh. “You see clearly, Nadia Moran. Strange. So many more powerful members of your race, and so many more powerful Elves, fail to see the obvious truth before their eyes.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m special,” I said.

  “Indeed,” said the Dark One. “You were not born that way, but forged yourself through agony and resolve.”

  “Gosh, that’s flattering.”

  “You should join us,” said the Dark One. “Allow one of us to enter your mind. You desire power – we can give you power and strength beyond the bounds of human experience.”

  “No thanks,” I said. “I’ve got enough spooky crap inside my head already. I don’t need any more of it.”

  “What about your brother?” said the Dark One.

  The bloated, glistening shape took a step closer.

  I felt my eyes narrow. “Hey, why don’t you chat with the Dark One that was inside Victor Lorenz’s skull? Go ask that Dark One what happens when people threaten my brother. I’ll wait if you need to make a phone call or something.”

  “We are not fools, Nadia Moran,” said the Dark One. “We know what you desire. We have the power to save your brother’s life. Do you think frostfever will have any power over him if one of us inhabits his flesh? He would be immortal. You could be immortal as well.”

  “Well, that’s all kinds of tempting,” I said. “Live forever with a freakish monster from the Void inside my head? Where do I sign on the dotted line? Does it have to be in blood, or can I just use a ballpoint pen?”

  “You use sarcasm to hide from the truth,” said the Dark One. The anthrophage elder’s black tongue rasped over its fangs.

  “Which is?”

  “You know you are going to die here,” said the Dark One. “You know your brother will die here. Nicholas Connor is ready for you. Last Judge Mountain shall be your tomb. The Sky Hammer waits, and it will destroy the High Queen.”

  I didn’t say any
thing, wondering what I should do next. Would the others be able to break through the barrier? I somehow doubted it. That meant I would have to kill the possessed anthrophage myself to break the translucent wall.

  “But you can save him, and you can save yourself,” said the Dark One. “Join us freely, Nadia Moran. You will not even have to offer a sacrifice to us, and you shall receive a Dark One equal in power to the knight of our kind who dwells within Nicholas Connor. We can teach you secrets of magic unknown to both Elves and humans. You shall have revenge on all who tormented you. Lord Morvilind’s agony will last for centuries if you wish it. You shall have power and authority over Earth in the new order.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet,” I said.

  “You doubt us?” said the Dark One.

  “Hugely,” I said. “I’ve heard this speech before a bunch of times. Lorenz tried to recruit me. Nicholas tried to recruit me. I told them both to go to hell, and I’m going to tell you the same thing. Well, I’m going to tell you to go back to the Void, I suppose.”

  “Then that is your answer?” said the Dark One. Purple fire and shadow snarled around the talons of the anthrophage elder.

  “That’s the first half, anyway,” I said. “Here comes the second half…”

  I hurled a fireball before the last word left my mouth and sent it screaming towards the anthrophage elder. The Dark One reacted at once, and cast a Shield, a half-dome of flickering purple light appearing in the air. My fireball struck it and exploded, the flames washing over the concrete floor, but the Shield kept the fire from striking the Dark One.

  The Dark One hammered back at me, throwing another burst of shadow fire. Again, I caught it on a Shield charged with regeneration energy, and as I held the Shield in place, I cast the Splinter Mask spell. Silver light flashed around me, and then eight perfect duplicates of me appeared. I set them to doing different things, some of them casting fake spells, others charging at the anthrophage elder while holding swords of elemental flame. The Dark One retreated, throwing spell after spell as it attacked my illusionary doubles. At a touch of the shadow fire, the duplicates shattered into shards of silver light and vanished.

  The spell only distracted the Dark One for a few moments, but that was enough for me to run to the side and cast the ice spike spell. A lance of ice about two feet long and as thick as my leg shot from my hand, and it punched into the side of the anthrophage’s chest. Black slime sprayed from the wound, and I hit the creature with another ice spike.

  “Fool,” rasped the Dark One. “You will regret…”

  I blasted off the top half of its head with a fire sphere. The anthrophage jerked and collapsed to the floor. The stench of burned anthrophage meat was nasty. The shadows writhing around its eyes and talons faded away.

  “Thanks,” I said, “but no thanks.”

  Boots hammered against the floor, and I turned as Murdo and Russell ran towards me, weapons pointed at the dead anthrophage.

  “Are you all right?” said Russell.

  Nicholas, Hailey, Morelli, and Corbisher followed more cautiously, weapons ready. Russell had his AK-47 pointed at the anthrophage elder, but his eyes swept the room for additional threats. Murdo had a pistol in his left hand and his elemental blade in his right, his face hard. His eyes met mine…

  And a sudden wave of intense physical desire went through me.

  Whoa. That had never happened before. No, wait, it had. I had experienced it a few times before with Riordan. When he drew on his Shadowmorph symbiont for speed and strength, it got hungry. And since Shadowmorph symbionts fed on life force, that meant when they got hungry, nearby sources of life energy (like me) suddenly felt it. Given the amount of hand-to-hand fighting there had been in the corridor of summoning circles, if Murdo had a Shadowmorph, he would have had no choice but to draw on it to stay alive.

  Which meant he was almost certainly a member of the Family of the Shadow Hunters. That explained a lot. Why he was so disciplined, for example. Shadow Hunters had to be disciplined because if they weren’t, their Shadowmorph would overwhelm them, they would go on killing sprees, and the other Shadow Hunters would kill them. It also explained why the Knight of Grayhold had sent him to infiltrate the Rebels. Who better do it than a Shadow Hunter? I suppose he had been hired to kill Nicholas. Which also explained why Murdo was still here, since I had just seen Nicholas recover from a gunshot wound that had blown off the top half of his skull.

  I wondered who Murdo’s girlfriend was. A woman would have to be at least mildly crazy to be in a relationship with a Shadow Hunter. Trust me, I knew that firsthand.

  For an instant, I was sure I was overlooking something important, something right in front of my damned face.

  “You okay?” said Murdo.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  I could figure it out later. When I wasn’t in the middle of some hellish fortress left over from before the Conquest, when Russell and I weren’t surrounded by enemies. And whatever Murdo’s secrets, I trusted him with my life. Because I had already trusted him with my life – twice in Washington DC, again in Milwaukee, and here in Last Judge Mountain.

  So far, he hadn’t let me down.

  “What was that thing?” said Russell. “It looks like a big greasy snowball.”

  “Anthrophage elder,” I said. “Like a regular anthrophage, but meaner and capable of using magic.” I looked at Nicholas. “Also, it was possessed by a Dark One.”

  “Was it?” said Corbisher. “Are you sure? It shouldn’t be possible for a Dark One to possess an anthrophage.”

  “It said it was a Dark One, and it used the same kind of magic that you guys do,” I said.

  Russell snorted. “Didn’t do the anthrophage any good, did it?”

  “Fascinating,” said Nicholas. “The researchers here must have worked out a way to bind a Dark One into an anthrophage. Anthrophages are useful soldiers, of course, but rather limited. A Dark One-augmented anthrophage would be a potent soldier indeed.” He looked around the gloomy office area. “Once we have retrieved the Sky Hammer, it will be worthwhile to investigate the contents of Last Judge thoroughly. We might find many potent weapons to help us in the long-term.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You have fun with that.”

  He smiled at me. He heard the threat in my words.

  “Well,” said Nicholas. “First, we have to locate the Sky Hammer.” He gestured toward another double door at the far end of the office wing. “Shall we proceed?”

  Chapter 10: Interchangeable

  Bloodrats attacked us next.

  I really, really hate bloodrats. Not because I have any particular fear of rodents, but bloodrats are big enough to bite your face off. Corbisher found that one out the hard way back when he tried to kill me for the first time. The younger bloodrats are the size of big dogs. They look like gaunt, half-starved rats that have been dipped in blood, their fur crimson and matted and slimy. They’re fast and strong and can bite through a steel pipe without trying hard.

  They’re bad enough.

  The old ones are worse.

  They can get to the size of horses, and they can also use magic.

  Nicholas opened the doors at the far side of the office area, revealing another of those concrete tunnels, and the mob of bloodrats charged out.

  We had to fight at once. Murdo summoned his blade of elemental flame and charged into the battle, slashing left and right. Russell and Morelli opened up with their guns. Wraithwolves are immune to bullets, but as it turns out, bloodrats aren’t. The black slime of their blood spattered across the floor. Hailey started casting spells, throwing blasts of black fire.

  Nicholas changed shape.

  He became that huge armored black panther with the scorpion tail I had seen in the ruins of Chicago, and he tore through the bloodrats like a storm. I suppose the best way to fight rats was to turn into a giant cat. I threw my magic into the fight, using a sphere of fire to burn out the skulls of five bloodrats in rapid succession, and then a volley of lightning
globes to stun the creatures so Nicholas could rip out their throats or Murdo could slice them apart.

  The elder bloodrat attacked after that.

  It was the size of a four-door car, muscles like steel cables bunching and contracting beneath the greasy red fur of its hide. Its teeth were as long as my forearm, and probably about three inches thick. The creature reared up on its hind legs as the smaller bloodrats attacked. Elemental fire snarled around its paws, and I felt the surge of power as it cast a spell.

  The bloodrat hurled a fireball that would have been strong enough to immolate all of us, but I was ready. I cast my own spell and called a wall of ice into existence, tall enough to seal off the entire tunnel. The bloodrat’s fireball slammed into the wall of ice with terrific force, and the ice vanished into steam, though it also drained away the power of the fireball.

  But it took a few seconds for the steam to clear, and in those seconds, I Cloaked and sprinted towards the wall. The elder bloodrat was already casting another spell, and it hurled a lance of shadow at the spot where I had been standing. The creature’s aim was accurate and had I still been standing there, the spell would have killed me.

  I dropped my Cloak and started casting again, white mist swirling around my fingers. The elder bloodrat realized its mistake and began to turn, but I had the drop on it. An ice spike hurtled from my hand, slammed into the side of the bloodrat’s head, and burst out the other side of its skull. Black slime and brains spattered from the wound, and the elder bloodrat shuddered, let out a croaking wheeze, and collapsed dead to the floor.

  I stepped away from the wall, ready to cast more spells, but all the bloodrats were dead. Murdo stood surrounded by a ring of dead bloodrats and pieces of dead bloodrats, and again I felt the wave of powerful attraction to him. (Damned odd feeling in the middle of a fight, let me tell you.) If he really was a Shadow Hunter, his Shadowmorph would have fed on the life energy on the bloodrats he killed, converting some of that energy into enhanced strength and vigor.

  “God,” I said, looking at the dead bloodrats. “I hate those things.”