by Frank Morin
Too late.
She caught sight of him staggering to his feet about forty feet away, looking battered. He somehow still wore that annoying hat, but she could tell he was furious. A column of legionnaires passed between them, blocking Paul from view, but Sarah had seen enough.
“He’s up,” she called to Bastien. “Round two.”
“Oui,” he said with more calm than she felt. “Let us light the night, yes?”
A fifty-caliber machine-gun appeared in his hand, its belt of ammo looking too short to accomplish much, but Sarah suspected he’d arranged for that belt to continuously spawn so he’d never run out of ammo.
Soldiers near where she’d last seen Paul suddenly flew screaming into the air as if they’d been rammed by a fast-moving snow plow. Paul must have located them, and he was coming fast.
“Get me something good,” Sarah cried, holding out her hands to accept a weapon from Bastien. He moved to flank her, crouching over his machine gun, but he offered a warm smile.
“For you, cheri, only the best.”
The Curtain Call dropped into her hands.
Sarah grinned, recognizing the GECAL 50 minigun from Quentin’s presentation. Like Bastien’s gun, the ammo belt seemed far too short for a gun that could fire up to two thousand rounds per minute. Sarah didn’t bother to question how he powered the electric weapon, trusting that he’d summoned some kind of a power source.
It was a good choice, probably their best bet to slow Paul down. With a snarl of defiance, she braced herself and opened fire.
The sound was an ear-splitting buzz as the gun chewed through dozens of rounds per second. The recoil was brutal, since the gun was designed to be mounted on a vehicle and she was holding it like a carbine. In the memoryscape, with her advanced enhancements, she could handle it. Barely.
Riding the very cusp of losing control of the weapon, she mowed down the final ranks of soldiers between her and the charging Cui Dashi. The poor soldiers disintegrated under the barrage of standard rounds, and she shouted with disgust and fear as she walked her fire right into Paul.
He might be a Cui Dashi, but hundreds of rounds of fifty caliber ammunition, striking at almost three thousand feet per second, packed a punch that even he couldn’t ignore. Paul screamed, but Sarah couldn’t tell if it was with rage or pain. She didn’t care, but kept pouring in more rounds as Paul’s advance stopped and he stumbled back under the barrage of fire.
“Give me the good stuff,” Sarah shouted.
Glittering tracers began spewing from the gun, followed by incendiary and explosive rounds. They tore into Paul, melting skin and tearing out chunks of flesh. She saw exposed bone several times, but the wounds closed with terrifying swiftness.
Lastly, the gun bucked harder than ever, and she unleashed a storm of blue-white lightning into Paul. The devastating barrage knocked him to his knees, hands raised as if pleading for mercy.
Sarah screamed with battle fury and with disgust at what she was doing.
Bastien added his stream of fire to hers, and when she risked a glance at him, he was whistling. She couldn’t hear the tune over the roar of the guns, but he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
She only looked away for a fraction of a second, but when she turned back to Paul, he was gone.
“No way!” Sarah shouted, releasing the trigger and scanning for him.
Those bullets had been tearing into him, even though it looked like he’d been healing just as fast. Still, they’d had him on the defensive. She couldn’t imagine how he’d slipped away.
Legionnaires were still advancing on their right, but the soldiers were circling wide around the gun battle, making warding signs against evil. To her left, a squad of Baladeva’s men who had been in the process of surrendering were now fighting a desperate battle against something cloaked in shadow. Sarah caught glimpses of furry arms and clawed hands that ripped into the soldiers as the darkness enveloped them.
She turned to Bastien just as Paul appeared beside the facetaker. Bastien tried to bring his gun around, but Paul moved too fast, knocking the weapon flying and driving a spear into Bastien’s chest. It sank all the way through and punched out his back, splattering Sarah with his blood.
Bastien gasped, blood pouring out his open mouth as he grasped the shaft. Paul heaved on the spear and threw Bastien into the night.
Sarah spun toward him, squeezing the trigger even though she knew she was too late. Paul grabbed the weapon and ripped the barrels off the gun, then yanked it out of her hands, sending her stumbling. He crushed the steel housing with a snarl of rage and tossed the weapon aside. When he turned to her, his suit again looked perfect, as if new off the rack. Despite all the damage they’d dealt, they hadn’t accomplished anything.
“You are an annoying mortal,” Paul said, his voice tight, not quite pulling off the calm villain act after that brutal beating.
Fear spiked in Sarah, but not as fast as anger. The horror of what he’d done to Bastien stoked her rage. He was probably already healing himself, but she embraced the feeling and threw herself at Paul with murderous intent.
She struck him several times, but he ignored the blows and snapped a punch to her midsection that sent her stumbling.
“Stop with the childish resistance,” he snapped.
That only made her angrier. As Sarah prepared to rush him again, her new rune turned icy cold against the skin of her thigh and a chill wind howled through her, driving her to move. Following the impulse, Sarah leaped at Paul. At the same time, the rune on her shoulder blade burned with searing heat that mingled with the icy blast of her new rune to form a whirlwind of energy that made her gasp aloud.
Sarah’s body faded to ethereal, and she spun around Paul, dodging a grasping hand. She continued to spin, turning faster and faster, her feet barely touching the ground as she embraced the essence of her activated runes.
She sensed that she’d unlocked a new aspect of her new enhancement, tapping aspects of motion and the triskelion truths of creation-preservation-destruction. The thought passed in a flash, and she didn’t fully understand it, but she didn’t need to.
She embraced it.
Her spinning accelerated until she moved like a whirlwind. Paul snatched at her, but his hands failed to grasp her insubstantial form. He paused, looking unsure of himself for the first time.
Time to give him something new to worry about.
Long-bladed knives appeared in Sarah’s hands, which incorporated just enough to grasp them. Spinning so fast, the blades tore into Paul, shredding off chunks of flesh. She drove against him like a bladed tornado.
Paul stumbled back from her, and she tore into his upraised hands with her blades. His blood sprayed across the ground and Sarah pressed the attack with every ounce of strength. The insanely fast whirling was hard to maintain, but she drove on without pause.
Even though Paul healed as fast as Sarah hurt him, he retreated from her onslaught, and she realized he didn’t know how to stop her. She could damage him, really hurt him. The shout of triumph she cried from her ethereal lips sounded like the scream of a tempest.
She decided she liked it.
With a frustrated cry, Paul leaped away and raised a hand toward Sarah. She pursued, spinning across the ground, an unstoppable force.
The memoryscape shuddered, and the ground faded under her feet, as if he was somehow driving her from the memory. The whirling power of her runes snuffed out, and Sarah fell to her knees, her head spinning so badly she nearly vomited.
The ground supported her weight, but felt soft, as if she might crash through and plummet into eternity. She felt weak, as if only barely connected to the memoryscape. She hadn’t realized he could do that. Why didn’t Bastien or Gregorios fix it for her?
Paul approached with an easy stride, again confident, as if she hadn’t hurt him.
As he loomed over her, he reminded her of Mai Luan, gloating over her in Berlin, her clothing perfect despite their deadly battle, her little
bluetooth earpiece glinting. The memory sparked a flash of understanding and Sarah cried, “The bluetooth! You were there in Berlin, listening the whole time.”
She scratched at the ground, trying to drag herself onto solid memoryscape again. “Why didn’t you help her?”
“I shouldn’t have needed to!” He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her high. Strength flowed back into her with the renewed connection, and she drew upon her rune again. Her body shifted to insubstantial, but her flash of triumph wilted to renewed terror when she realized that her face was not changing.
Paul’s hand had begun to glow with the purple fire of his Cui Dashi nevron. Somehow he was blocking her ability to fade away. For the first time ever, he pushed his hat all the way up with his free hand, revealing his features.
He was Chinese.
She shouldn’t have felt as surprised as she did, but terror spiked to new levels as she realized he was granting her this chance to look upon him because he no longer cared if she knew. His hand tightened around her throat.
Desperately, Sarah focused on her rune and it burned against her back. She could feel the ethereal effect slowly creeping up her neck, slipping past his nevron defenses, but the change would not happen quickly enough. He would crush her long before she escaped again.
Sarah kicked at him, but she lacked the proper leverage, and she was as effective as if she was kicking the side of a mountain.
“My sister will be avenged,” he said with a triumphant smile.
Sarah imagined a claymore mine in the air between them, the dangerous end facing Paul. Then she returned his smile as the trigger appeared between her teeth. Before the mine fell to the ground, and as his eyes widened in surprise, she bit down on the trigger.
Nothing happened.
The mine clattered to the ground at her feet.
“What?” Sarah exclaimed, spitting the trigger at Paul. It bounced off his chin, but he ignored it.
“It is a small thing to remove batteries at will,” he said, his tone triumphant.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sarah groaned. “I had you, you smug son of a--”
He squeezed harder, choking out the words. Instead of snapping her neck, his gaze turned thoughtful and he turned her slightly, studying her closely. His gaze took on a different kind of intensity that chilled her to the bone.
“Your resilience and resourcefulness are impressive. You are proving to be more than the useless mortal I first imagined. You do my sister’s memory much honor.”
“Your sister was nuts,” Sarah gasped. She tried calling upon that strange whirlwind power from her second rune, but it didn’t respond. “But I see that runs in the family.”
Paul’s hand clenched and Sarah gagged as her airway was blocked. Maybe she shouldn’t have insulted him until Gregorios arrived to rip out his spine.
He surprised her by relaxing his hold just enough for her to breathe. Sarah wondered why he restrained himself.
“Do not speak badly of her.” His tone was terse. “I had planned to remove your soul today, but I believe I have a better use for you.”
That didn’t sound good.
Then another truth struck her. “You were in Berlin all along. Mai Luan didn’t have to send you the rune.”
“Actually she did,” Paul said with a grimace. “It appeared only to you in the bunker.”
That was surprising. Worse, she hated that he was only sharing his secrets with her now because he was about to kill her. That was such a cliché super villain tactic.
Sarah hated clichés.
Instead of ripping her head off, Paul started pacing, his hat tipped down to hide his features, still holding her off the ground. It was almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. That was just plain insulting.
She kicked him between the legs.
The leverage wasn’t good, but she got his attention. Paul shook her until her teeth clacked. “Do not make me change my mind.”
“Your mind is cracked,” Sarah said. “I’d change it for a cesspit and call it an improvement.”
She couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t killed her, but she hoped he’d pause a little bit longer. Bastien had to have healed himself, must see her danger. Why hadn’t he called her out of the memoryscape yet?
“Yes, I think you will do,” he said, as if reaching a decision. “Your service will be uniquely satisfying.”
“What are you talking about?” Sarah demanded. “The only service I plan to give you is a proper burial.”
Gregorios retreated a step from Spartacus and spared a glance toward Tomas, who was savaging John on the far side of the half-sunken boulder that had destroyed the command tent. He could feel John’s will tugging against the fabric of the memoryscape. He’d managed to block John’s attempts to make major alterations, like forming a stone wall between him and Tomas, but hadn’t managed to block John’s regeneration of his own body. In that, John held the advantage. His entire will was focused on staying alive, and he was bolstered by the power of the Cui Dashi.
He’d felt one strong warp of the memoryscape from Paul’s direction, but had lost sight of Sarah and Bastien after the huge explosion earlier. He’d heard a spate of gunfire, but it had cut off abruptly. If Paul had turned the tide on them, Tomas was just about out of time. He might need to put down Spartacus and go help Tomas finish the mission.
Spartacus followed his gaze. “Your man is a warrior of much honor.” He glanced around the battlefield and sniffed, but his nose didn’t wrinkle at the stench of blood and opened corpses. “It were better for us to meet in mortal combat, not in the world of a dream, where naught matters and where deeds of honor fade away with the waking breath.”
“Tell you what,” Gregorios said, hoping he’d just gotten the opening he was looking for. “Tell me where to find you in the waking world, and I’ll arrange a round of honorable battles.”
With a shout of victory, Tomas buried an axe into John’s throat, but did not rip it free. He raised the other high, with the clear intent of driving it into the same spot.
When that blade landed, he’d take John’s head off.
Paul opened his mouth to speak, but then without a word, he placed Sarah almost gently on the ground, then leaped away, moving faster than Sarah could hope to follow. He shot across the bloody camp and she realized his destination with horror.
Tomas stood over John with a wicked battle-axe in hand, slashing down toward John like an ancient berserker.
Paul reached him before the blow landed.
Tomas never saw him coming. The Cui Dashi rammed into him and sent him tumbling far out into the night.
Sarah screamed and raced after Paul. She caught sight of Gregorios and Spartacus standing not far from the fallen John, both looking surprised by Paul’s appearance. As Sarah closed on them, Paul ripped another axe out of John’s throat and lifted the bloody facetaker off the ground. He’d left his hat behind, and he looked angry.
Sarah summoned her grenade launcher, but Paul tilted his face to the sky and commanded, “Take us from this place.”
He glanced at her as he began to fade from the memoryscape, and his voice hung in the air as he disappeared.
“We will meet again, my chosen vessel, and I will share your glorious destiny with you.”
Sarah fired, even though she knew it was too late. The high explosive round detonated at Paul’s feet, creating a cloud of dust and debris. When it cleared, Paul and John were gone.
His last words haunted her. Having him chase her with murder on his mind was bad enough. Calling her his chosen vessel was just plain creepy. That phrase brought to mind virgin sacrifices or sex perversions. She didn’t qualify for the first, and she’d rather die than submit to the second.
She threw her rifle to the ground in disgust. “I hate that man.”
Nearby, Spartacus saluted Gregorios. “If we cannot find resolution, then anon I will grant your request and we will meet in flesh incarnate to settle scores both ancient and newborn. Fo
r glory and honor!”
He faded away and Gregorios growled, “Glory and honor.”
Then he dropped his gladius and blew out a breath, turning slowly to take in the entire bloody camp. When he caught sight of Sarah, he smiled. “Are you all right?”
“Bastien’s hurt, and we have to find Tomas.”
She took a step toward the direction she last saw him tumbling, but Gregorios lifted a hand to stop her. “I can feel both of them. Bastien was already back on his feet, and I’ve removed Tomas’ injuries. We’re done here.” Fists clenched, he added, “We were so close.”
Then he shrugged and looked up into the starlit darkness. “All right, my girl. Take us home.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Symbols of faith, and the symbol of my blessed nation form the heart of my ciphers, and I know the Almighty God is pleased with my efforts. Yet I fear Uncle Bastien’s words may hold a grain of truth. At times I sense resistance in the ciphers, as if greater power might be possible if I shed the symbols of my faith. How can it be? Is it not god himself who formed the souls of men? I swear to discover the truth, after removing the madness and foul superstition of the Burgundians.
~Joan of Arc, Rune Warrior, May, 1430, shortly before her capture
Sarah blinked from the bright light as Alter lifted the faceplate. The hunter looked tired, his eyes haunted.
“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked as she removed her helmet and sat up.
“Nothing,” he said. “I don’t like the feel of those de…Eirene’s nevron.”
“You did wonderful,” Eirene said from where she was helping Gregorios with his helmet. She looked worn, but cheerful.
“Are you all right?” Alter asked Sarah. “You’re not hurt?”
“I survived,” Sarah said. “Bastien’s the one who got hit the worst.”
Bastien was sitting up, examining his bloody clothing, with a medical officer hovering nearby. He pulled off his shirt to reveal a bloody bandage on his chest, over the spot where the spear had impaled him.
