"Under the stage?" Talon echoed. He glanced back down into the stadium. The stage was built up on the field below like a multi-tiered structure of its own. The "backstage" area would actually be in the hollow space underneath.
"Do you know what kind of magic?"
"Can't tell. It could just be some kind of special effect preparation for the show . . ."
That was certainly a possibility. Trouble's research showed that a local magical company was being employed to provide magical illusions as part of the stage show, so . . .
"Wait a sec." Talon said to himself, then into the commlink. "Trouble, that company doing the stage effects. Do they have their own staff of mages or do they contract out?"
"Checking . . . nope, they're not too big. Looks like they subcontract most of their magical work."
"Zoller. Zoller's a magical consultant. Winternight could be using his credentials to get backstage."
"Talon." came Silverblade's voice over the link. "There's something going on below the stage. The area is warded, and I didn't want to attempt to penetrate it, lest I should warn whoever set up the ward. But no other area of the stadium is warded."
Talon circuited the link to the rest of the team, to include them all in the conversation. "Okay, folks, it looks like our targets are down in the understage area. That puts them smack in the middle of the stadium, the perfect place to set up their bomb. We've got to get down there. Meet up at tunnel G of the outer ring." Talon headed up the stairs at a jog as the stadium lights dimmed and the floodlights illuminated the stage.
The show was starting, and Talon knew they didn't have much time.
"Ladies and gentlemen! And all you other assorted mutants!" a voice boomed out over the PA system. "Welcome to the concert of the century! Welcome and bear witness to . . . the coming . . . of . . . RAGNAROCK!" A deafening cheer went up from the crowd as they went wild. There was an explosion of light and sound on the stage as flares went off, spotlights swung in, and the first band went into a slamming shag metal guitar solo that seemed to make the walls vibrate.
As Talon turned the corner and headed to meet up with the rest of his team, he paused for a moment and looked out over the stadium.
Chummer, Talon said silently to the faceless announcer, I sure as hell hope you're wrong.
23
Heinrich Zoller stepped over the bodies of the security guards and directed his hirelings to place the bomb under the stage. His master had been merciful in restoring him after his initial failure. Zoller would not disappoint him again. Soon he would be the one to strike the spark that would ignite the glory of Ragnarok, and he would reap his reward. Out of the flames, he would be reborn, a new god to reign over the new world that would come about, under the guidance of his master, of course.
He opened the side panel of the bomb, setting the controls for a countdown. His Humanis hirelings had no idea of the nature of the device they were planting, of course. They thought it was a more conventional explosive intended to strike a blow against foreign corporations who would pollute German purity with their presence and their ideas. That was true, to a point, but they did not know how powerful the blast would be, or that Germany would be the first battleground of the final war. Zoller's true servants, members of Winternight, knew what was coming, but they faced it gladly, knowing they would be rewarded in the world to come, the world that would rise from the ashes of the old.
He placed a finger on the control switch.
"Master, all is in readiness." he thought.
"Excellent." his Master's voice responded. "You have done well, Heinrich. You will be of great service to me in times to come."
"Thank you, Master." Zoller pushed the button and the ten-minute countdown began. Now there was no turning back.
24
Talon met up with the rest of the team in the outer corridor of the stadium. Boom and Hammer arrived first, weapons carefully concealed beneath long coats and armored jackets. Trouble and Silverblade followed close behind, slipping in from the outside with the aid of Silverblade's magic. Talon could feel a faint magical presence nearby as they approached. A glance with his astral senses told him that Silverblade still had one of Val's drones concealed with an invisibility spell, keeping it hidden from sight.
"What's the plan?" Hammer asked.
"We hit them fast and hard, but don't forget they've got an active nuke with them. Trouble, do you think you can disarm it?"
Trouble nodded. "If it's electronic, I can shut it down."
"Good." Talon said. "Let's head for the understage area. If any local guards get in the way, let me or Silverblade take them down. We don't want to raise an alarm and we don't want any unnecessary casualties." They weren't packing gel rounds this time. "Save the heavy firepower for Winternight. Everybody link in on the comm and let's go."
They headed along the corridor to the stairs that would take them down to the bottom level of the stadium. A pair of uniformed guards stood at the entrance as they approached. Talon signalled the others to hang back. The guards turned and spotted the team just as Talon gestured, and a soundless, unseen explosion seemed to ripple the air around them. The guards collapsed where they were, sliding to the ground in a heap. Boom and Hammer quickly dragged them out of sight, and then the team hit the stairs.
Hammer took point, with Talon and Silverblade close behind. The elf drew his silvery sword with one hand, and held his pistol in the other. Talon did the same, drawing Talonclaw and keeping his Ares Slivergun close at hand in case his spells weren't enough to handle whatever awaited them below. Trouble and Boom brought up the rear, with Val's combat drone hovering behind them. Boom could see—and shoot—clearly over the heads of everyone in front of him.
"The ward is at the bottom of the stairs, boss." Aracos said to Talon.
"We're going to have to break through the ward to get Aracos in." Talon said quietly to Silverblade.
The elf nodded. "Shouldn't be difficult."
"But it may take time," Talon said, "and it'll warn whoever set it up."
"Send your familiar away then." Silverblade said, raising a hand before Talon could object. "Call it back from within the barrier. The ward cannot block its entrance from the metaplanes."
Talon nodded. "Aracos, you got that?"
"I don't like it." the spirit replied. "What if you need me while I'm gone?"
"Can't be helped, chummer. It's the best way." "Okay." Aracos said. "See you soon." Aracos faded from the astral plane, vanishing back into the depths of the mysterious metaplanes he called home.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the team automatically fanned out. Boom and Hammer took point at the closed double-doors, along with Val's hovering drone. Talon and Silverblade came next, with Trouble bringing up the rear, a slim automatic pistol at the ready. None of them spoke this close to their goal, communicating mostly in gestures, meaningful glances, and body language. No words were needed.
When they were in position, Boom and Hammer glanced back at Talon, who gave the nod. The two metahumans hurled themselves at the heavy doors, which flew open with a shriek of protesting metal and a loud "bang!" Boom and Hammer both rolled with the force of the impact, coming up on their feet a few meters inside the doors while spraying the room with gunfire. Val's drone whined and accelerated forward; Talon and the others followed close behind.
Compared to Boom and Hammer's jacked-up reflexes, Talon felt almost like he was moving in slow-motion. Fortunately, the other people in the room seemed to be having a similar experience. Heinrich Zoller stood near the middle of the backstage area, next to the silvery cylinder of the bomb. Around him were nearly a dozen men wearing dark clothing and carrying compact submachine guns. The bodies of several security guards and concert personnel lay scattered on the floor in puddles of blood, the red soaking into the ground.
The sudden appearance of the shadowrunners seemed to catch their opponents off guard. Talon saw several of the men go down as Hammer and Boom raked the area with gunf
ire. The men were obviously wearing some sort of body armor, but it wasn't enough to deal with a full burst of well-aimed gunfire.
Moving with nearly equal speed, Silverblade sprang forward like a striking snake, his sword flashing out and connecting with Zoller. Droplets of blood flew through the air, and Zoller cried out in pain as the enchanted blade left a deep cut along his left arm. He managed to pull back at the last moment, which was probably all that kept his arm from being severed by the blow.
"Elven mongrel!" he growled. "You will pay for that!" Zoller's body seemed to twist and swell like putty. His clothes ripped and tore as he morphed into the shape of a massive black bear, the size of a troll, which towered over Silverblade. The bear threw back its head and roared before launching itself at the elf in a storm of fang and claw. The two of them went down on the ground in a struggling mass.
"Aracos, now!" Talon called out. He felt his ally responding, but then he felt something else—a surge of power from the astral plane. Trouble rushed forward to reach the bomb, while Val's drone laid down covering fire from its chin-mounted machine gun.
Bullets tore up the ground and stitched across some of the gunmen, their velocity lifting the men almost bodily off the ground before sending them tumbling back down.
Talon opened his senses to the astral to see Aracos appearing close by. As he did, he also spotted something else, something enormous, that towered over the entire room, only barely fitting into the enclosed space. It reached out one massive claw and struck at the spirit.
Aracos shrieked in pain as the claws tore into his astral body like swords. Talon could feel his familiar's psychic cries through the mental link they shared. Aracos retreated backward, moving behind Talon as the massive astral form of the great dragon Alamais loomed overhead.
Talon looked up into the burning eyes of the spirit-dragon as it spread its wings, parts of its phantom form passing easily through the shimmering ward around the room, indicating that Zoller had not been the only one to erect the ward.
"So." the dragon's thought-voice echoed in Talon's mind. "You have survived. You are more fortunate than any mere mortal deserves to be, Talon. Still you should have left when you had the opportunity. This game is nearly over. In minutes this bomb will explode. You cannot disarm it, for only I know the codes to do so. The blame will fall on others, and the corporate wolves seeking to devour this land will fall upon each other instead. More importantly, my triumph over Lofwyr will be sealed."
The dragon paused and bent its serpentine head forward.
"It is only a pity that you will not be able to see it all, little one. It will be quite glorious."
A voice responded to Alamais' taunt from deep inside Talon, but it was not his own.
"I think not, brother." it said.
25
"Lofwyr?" Alamais said in a confused tone.
"Yes." Lofwyr's thought-voice replied. "Really, Alamais, did you think your little plan was going to succeed, here, of all places? Did you think you could challenge me and win?"
The giant shape of Alamais' astral form peered all around the room. "Where are you?"
"Right here." Lofwyr said. Talon could hear the thought-voice, which seemed to echo inside him. It was coming from inside him. Lofwyr was speaking through him somehow!
"Clever." Alamais mused aloud. "Very clever, brother, hiding your astral form in the aura of this human. I would never have expected you to sink so low."
"Interesting words, coming from you." Lofwyr replied. "You who would ally yourself with anarchists and agitators who seek to bring about the end of everything. To use them as part of your challenge to me."
"I do not ally." Alamais said, glaring at Talon. "I control. The deluded plans of Winternight do not concern me, only their usefulness in carrying out my design. You should understand that."
"I do. It is you who never adapted well to controlling events behind the scenes, then or now."
"We should not be 'behind the scenes,'" Alamais sneered, his thought-voice dripping contempt. "We should rule! As is our right!"
"Times have changed." Lofwyr said. "But you have always been unable to see that. The Young Races are not what they once were, nor are we. If you seek power in this Age, then you must learn the new rules of the game."
"I follow the rides of our kind," Alamais spat, "and I have challenged you, to prove you unworthy of the position you hold. Playing games of wealth and influence with the Young Races has softened you, Lofwyr."
Talon was feeling dizzy. The sheer speed and volume of the mental communication between the two dragons was making his head pound. All around him the fight against Alamais' hirelings continued. Talon saw Boom and Hammer laying down covering fire against the remaining men, who'd taken cover behind crates and shipping containers.
Near the gleaming cylinder of the bomb, Silverblade struggled with Zoller in bear form. The elf's cheek was bleeding from claw marks, and his sword was red with the blood of his enemy. Zoller roared his defiance, seemingly lost within the mind of a pain-maddened beast, attacking like a storm of claws and teeth. Silverblade continued to fight calmly, his icy façade unaffected. His sword wove a net of gleaming silver around his body, fending off the bear's attacks, slowly driving his opponent back.
Hovering overhead, unnoticed by those on the physical plane, the astral form of Alamais glared down at him.
"In a way, I am pleased that you are here, Lofwyr." Alamais said. "It gives me the opportunity to deal with you personally rather than though intermediaries. It will make the final victory all the sweeter."
"Your trap was never a danger to me." Lofwyr replied. "I knew this challenge would arise from the moment Dunkelzahn left me his crystal. The only questions were who would make it and when it would come. Honestly, I never expected it to be you. I thought you had learned better."
"I have." Alamais said. "As you shall see."
"I have seen no proof yet, brother. If you mean to challenge me, then do so."
"The challenge is already offered." Alamais said. "Our battle is joined. I will prove myself the superior."
As Talon looked up in awe at the hovering form of the great dragon, he heard Lofwyr's voice in his mind speaking to him alone.
"Human, I must overcome Alamais, and I require your aid. You are currently my anchor in this plane. Without your compliance, my power will be weakened. Will you combine your power with mine to overcome my brother?"
"What if—"
"NO!" Lofwyr said. "The decision must be now! There is no time to waste! Will you aid me?"
Talon hesitated still. Lofwyr was perhaps the most influential being on Earth. He was also known as a schemer of the first order, with little regard for the lives of mere mortals. It was entirely possible the dragon was lying to him, in which case he might not survive. Lofwyr had already used him to get Alamais out into the open where he could confront him. What if the dragon considered Talon merely a pawn? Still, if Alamais wasn't overcome, there was a strong chance he would be able to keep the rest of Talon's team from disarming the bomb, even in his astral form. Lofwyr was the only force that could possibly hold his brother at bay. In the end, Talon knew he had only one choice.
"I agree." he said.
"So be it." came the reply.
"Alamais! You have challenged me!" Lofwyr said. "I accept."
Talon felt a powerful surge of energy ripple through his body, like when he astral projected; only this was far more profound, far more powerful. He felt his astral form separate from his physical body and begin to expand, stretching outward, taking on a different shape. Wings sprouted and unfurled from his back, and a long serpentine neck stretched out. Golden scales gleamed along the surface of the great spirit-shape—as massive as that of Alamais—as it seemed to expand out of Talon's body in all directions. Blue sparks shot from where Lofwyr's wings brushed against the wards surrounding the understage area, and the wards shattered like prismatic glass, the shards raining down on the astral plane before dissolving like ice on a ho
t skillet. Lofwyr reared up, in his full majesty, to confront his brother dragon.
But it wasn't Lofwyr alone. Talon's astral body was a part of it, as if he and the dragon were merged as one, their spirits intermixed. Talon could see things as Lofwyr saw them. Together as one, Talon and Lofwyr rose up to face Alamais.
The two dragons lifted up through the ceiling of the understage and through the massive stage itself. Talon was vaguely aware of the band playing there, wailing out some sort of thrash metal tune, and he could feel the aroused emotions of the crowd in the stands as they shouted and cheered.
Alamais let forth a roar and charged at him. The two dragons slammed into each other, locked in battle. Talon could feel the dragon's claws cutting into him while Alamais tried to bring his jaws close to Talon's neck. He twisted around (or was it Lofwyr who did that?) and slashed at Alamais, pushing him away and drawing a howl of pain from the dragon.
There was no subtlety to the battle, and little honor. Neither dragon tried to cast spells or use any abilities apart from tooth and claw, pure brute force, and cunning. Alamais spread his astral wings and swooped in, attempting to rake with his rear claws as his jaws snapped shut near Lofwyr's tail. Lofwyr whipped it aside at the last moment, but Alamais scored a hit along his flank and Talon recoiled from the pain.
"Do not fail me." Lofwyr said in his thoughts. "We must overcome him!"
Lofwyr responded by turning and slashing at Alamais with his foreclaws, but the other dragon danced away before the strike could hit. Lofwyr lunged forward with a snap of his jaws, forcing Alamais back further. He kept up the offensive, becoming a whirlwind of teeth and claws, pressing the other dragon hard.
"Which of us has become soft, Alamais?" Lofwyr taunted as he pressed the attack.
Talon suddenly became aware of the fact that the noise of the crowd had stopped. As the battle raged on between the two dragons, he noticed that only the band kept playing; the crowd was almost utterly silent, all eyes fixed on the stage with rapt attention.
Ragnarock Page 20
