Heroes

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Heroes Page 14

by David Leadbeater


  “There are too few elves abroad in the world today,” Jade said, smiling at the young one beside her. “But even a few can make a great difference.”

  Elaina finally held up a hand. They could see the stars through the waving canopy over their heads, twinkling brightly. They could see scudding clouds. It reminded Amber that the world still burned out there and they were working against a clock.

  Before she could say anything, Elaina said, “There is one thing we know, maybe two, that you don’t. The Old Ones dwell in the polar wastes. The last uninhabited place on earth. I’ve heard it called the Archipelago, a series of mountainous islands bonded together by sheets of ice. The Old Ones abide in a place called the High Plateau.”

  “We should go,” Jade tugged at Amber’s coat sleeves.

  “You will be unable to access it,” Edric said. “It has never been mapped by the humans, only by their satellites. And you would have to find a madman to pilot a helicopter in there. The weather patterns are unpredictable, the winds violent and terrible.”

  Amber turned to Jade. “My sister and I will work our charms. If it’s a madman we need, it’s a madman we will get. Where’s the closest outpost?”

  “I’d try Vernadsky,” Edric said. “It’s the most active base. There will be pilots there.”

  “Wrap up, girls,” Elaina said. “Even elves feel the cold down there.”

  Amber grinned and looked at Jade. This felt right now. It felt as if they’d made a good choice.

  Of course, the hardest part of their mission still lay ahead of them.

  Convincing the Old Ones to help.

  They rose and accepted the help of the Rebel Elves. They were given food, water and warm clothing. They were given elven cloaks, armbands and headgear that would be recognizable even to the most ancient of elves.

  Then they were transported swiftly to the closest, working airport – a dirt track on a high plateau.

  “Good luck,” Edric said at the end. “And fare well. I hope to see you again one day.”

  Amber held on to her sister.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Ceriden crumbled when the library was destroyed and Taryn died. I didn’t know why he took it much harder than everyone else at first, but then Belinda filled me in.

  “Taryn was his first-turned. They share a bond, like love, but it’s mental too. Somewhere in their consciousness Ceriden and Taryn have been bonded for centuries and Ceriden will have felt Taryn’s death as if it were happening to him.”

  I understood. A short while later we got a communication from Vienna. Ceriden looked up from the table his head was lying on for the first time, face barely recognizable with grief.

  “Is that Strahovski? What does that primping pig want?”

  I watched the monitor mounted at head height, along with everyone still gathered in the room. We were making our plans for Vegas and now we knew Ken Hamilton was alive and leading one of the largest armies ever assembled. We were trying to follow suit at this side.

  The speakers filled with crackling and then Strahovski, the top vampire Lucy had met in Vienna, the so-called King of Europe, appeared. A flash of anger swept through me at the sight of him. Lysette had told me that vampires started courting my daughter at this bastard’s castle.

  “Vienna is losing,” he said breathlessly. “I have just come from the battle. My people, they are dying. We lost thousands today. Thousands. There is no hope.”

  Ceriden rose up like a deadly avenging angel. “No hope?” he hissed. “You miserable, mewling gutter rat. I see no blood on you. I see no wounds. Did you fight? Or did you cower whilst your kinsmen died?”

  Strahovski looked shocked. I stared at Ceriden in disbelief. This wasn’t a side of him I’d ever seen before.

  “We are losing this war,” Strahovski reiterated. “The hellgate . . . it never stops. It spews them out by the hundreds, every minute, every hour. Vienna, my town, is in ruins. All humans have deserted. There are only vampires, and we are dying.”

  Ceriden looked ready to challenge him again but swallowed his words. “I will come,” he said. “I will lead the last charge. I will take my rightful place as the King of the Vampire World before the world ends.”

  Belinda rushed over to him, grabbing his shoulders. “We need you here,” she said.

  I was a few steps behind her. “We win or die in Vegas,” I said. “That’s the last stand.”

  Ceriden regarded both of us. “Since we met,” he said. “It’s been unreal. Literally unreal. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help and trust. And you, Logan . . . I’ve seen you grow from the hardiest doubter to one of our greatest heroes. We’ve all come a long way since we came from York.”

  I smiled. We were indeed a long way from York. It was right then that I knew what I had to do.

  “I’ll come with you,” I said. “Somebody has to catalogue the last stand of the vampires. And I’ll come back,” I told Belinda and the others. “I won’t engage.”

  “Why?” Belinda asked. “Why you?”

  “Because I have this love-hate relationship with Ceriden. Because we have three days to wait before we’re ready to attack Vegas. Because somebody must be there, and I think I’m the most powerful. Because . . . for our future generations . . . somebody has to see it.”

  Ceriden clapped a long white hand on my shoulder. “Then pack your GoPro, Logan. We’re heading out right now.”

  I didn’t even have time to say goodbye.

  *

  Ceriden brought Ethan with him. The parting between Ethan and Lucy was sweet, but brief, and something I had to accept. Maybe this journey would help build my tolerance toward vampires. It was one more reason that I chose to go.

  The plane flew high, as high as it was able, to stay clear of winged demons. Kinkade had reported days ago that they couldn’t attain heights over 10,000 feet, so the only risk was take-off and landing. We didn’t speak much as the hours passed, but Ethan and Ceriden both looked scared, determined and fatalistic.

  If this was to be the end of their race, they would make it a good and glorious end.

  We landed safely and were met by a blacked-out vehicle. We were driven into the heart of Vienna and taken into an underground parking area. It was here that Strahovski and a dozen of his guards met us.

  The King of Europe was disheveled, scared and flustered.

  Ethan looked him up and down. “You’re looking pale,” he said.

  I enjoyed the attempt at brevity. Even Ceriden smiled. But Strahovski, despite his weak, dubious, unconvincing manner, had seen death and battle. He pointed at the entrance we’d driven through.

  “Up there is the end,” he said. “We’re massing a block away. I have only 3,000 left. The rest of our brethren, Ceriden . . . they are ashes.”

  The tall English vampire rubbed his eyes, though he couldn’t shed tears. “I will lead them,” he said. “It is my time.”

  “And what of me?” Strahovski asked.

  “Join me,” Ceriden said. “Let us bury our differences and go out in glorious accord, standing together. Like English football in 1990 and 2018. Like Kurt and Goldie, Jason and Emilia. Let’s not cling to our regrets.”

  I was with him. I was fired up and ready to go. Ethan was chomping at the bit. Strahovski looked like he needed more convincing. “Shouldn’t we live to fight another day?”

  “A leader fights and dies with his men. You lead from the front or you don’t lead at all. Now, join me or crawl back down your rat hole.”

  Ceriden spun and started stalking toward the exit. I followed with Ethan, steeling myself for the streets above. Half of Strahovski’s guard came with us immediately and then all but one started to follow. “Good luck,” Strahovski said.

  We didn’t answer. We emerged into the black, Viennese night. We walked a block in pitch black, turned a corner and then I saw it. The biggest hellgate on earth.

  It pulsed and squirmed in the air, about ten feet off the ground at the center of a lar
ge, paved square, surrounded on three sides by eateries and boutiques. All manner of demons leapt and stepped and fell out of it; all sizes, all shapes. There was a whistle in the air, a sharp wind that blew straight from the shores of hell into our world. I could see a black river through the gate and ranks of monsters marching to war.

  Ceriden held up a hand. The last of his vampires had seen us emerge from the underground parking area and had followed. We now stood many rows strong. I turned and saw all the pale faces behind me, glowing in the dark under the light of the silvery moon, strong and powerful, and ready to defend earth. They chose to die here tonight because Vienna was their spiritual home, the place vampires had first been born. I for one didn’t blame them for it.

  “Logan,” Ceriden said quietly, “if you would start us off.”

  I knew what he wanted. A blast of immense power that would pound the gate and set these demons on the back foot. A distraction. I gathered my power, let it build inside and then fired a bolt of white lightning at the gate that sizzled with energy. It struck dead-center. The gate throbbed, retracting for one moment, practically closing. As it did, it severed every demon currently using it in half. The paving flags were littered with limbs and bodies.

  Ceriden ran forward. The vampire army attacked. I was at their midst. Their screams rang out like cursed bells pealing at the silver-shod skies above. They struck the demonic horde as it left the square, forcing it back toward its own vile homeland. They decimated demon after demon and threw them through windows, against walls and onto roofs. Many demons already stalked Vienna’s streets and these attacked now, streaming in from the side streets.

  I was shocked to see a hierarchy demon flying over the top of them, spitting fire and venom.

  “Strahovski never mentioned that.” I said.

  “I doubt he’s left his shelter,” Ceriden said, “but it will not save him. That hierarchy demon is Asmodeus.”

  By now the vampires all around us in the lead pack were jumping at the pulsing hellgate, dragging emerging demons down and killing them. Some even entered the gate, trying to stem the flow from the other side. A stream of fire shot through it and flickered around the edges. A gush of black, demonic ichor spilled out. Demons were thrown head first through the gap and smothered and killed. Here, right here, we were winning.

  Behind us, the bulk of the vampires met a horde of charging beasts.

  “We can fight here all day,” I said, “all night. But we can’t close this gate.”

  “Use your power,” Ethan said to me. “Lucy is growing in strength every day. When you hit it just now you made it repulse. Maybe if you hit it hard enough you can seal it.”

  The kid had a good point. I nodded at him, feeling mixed emotions even here, as Uber beings fought and scrapped and died all around me. Ceriden smashed left and right, using his superior speed and strength to destroy his enemies.

  I gathered another wave of power. It swelled inside, it filled me. I held on to it as long as I was able, and then longer. I wondered if it could overwhelm me, burn me up from the inside. Still, I held it. I waited.

  And then threw it at the hellgate with all the force I could muster.

  It shattered the gate. The sides collapsed. Demons were eviscerated. The hole in the air reduced to something the size of a shoebox and the sides were lined with dripping demonic blood.

  “Almost there,” Ethan said. “One more. Quick.”

  I folded over, weak and gasping, but I heard Ethan’s words and braced myself. I sought more power. When the gate retracted, a terrible cry had gone up among the demons already fighting around the square, a cry of disbelief, fury and bloodlust. Now, the hierarchy demon, Asmodeus, reared high into the air and swooped down at us.

  Fire blasted from his wide-open jaws.

  We scattered, ran and leapt aside. I unleashed my power, blunting the fire but not stopping it. And then Asmodeus crashed down among us, clawed feet smashing the paving flags, huge body demolishing a nearby shop. The thing bent low and bellowed in our faces.

  I didn’t have much time. I couldn’t summon my full power. Vampires lay dead and wounded all around. The gate was reasserting itself, springing open once more. Ceriden was on his knees and Ethan was standing over him.

  I held up my hands. Asmodeus focused those blazing eyes upon me. Just me. It was the most frightening moment of my life so far.

  Just then, vampires attacked its vulnerable body. Its underbelly and sides. They used claws and teeth, fangs and knives. It sensed that it was too large to defend itself and shrunk into a giant, a man with great anvils for hands and talons for feet, with horns and spines sticking out of its face and with eight razor-sharp tentacles protruding from its back.

  I gawped. Vampires staggered as the being shrunk around them, then tried to regain their feet. The demon attacked in its new guise, throwing tentacles out like whips, clawing and smashing. I was forced to ignore the hellgate as it burst open again. I assailed the hierarchy demon with bolts of power.

  It shrank back but defended itself. It was bleeding from the thighs and stomach. Demons jumped through the gate behind me, but vampires threw themselves at them in desperation.

  Ceriden rose, the flesh across his forehead slashed wide open. He reeled. Ethan steadied him.

  “I will end Asmodeus,” he said, “it’s all we can do now.”

  “No, we can win this,” Ethan said, “and I will end Asmodeus.”

  Without waiting for an answer, the young vampire leapt athletically over the backs of several battling enemies and ran straight at Asmodeus. I readied a power blast but even I wasn’t quick enough to stop what happened next.

  Asmodeus pierced Ethan with one of his tentacles, straight through the stomach, and raised him into the air. I was about to attack when I saw Ethan smiling.

  This was his plan.

  When Ethan was over Asmodeus’s head, swinging wildly with several other vampires, he pulled out a knife, severed the tentacle that had skewered him and fell right down on Asmodeus’s shoulders. He gripped tight with every ounce of his vampiric strength, brought the knife around and cut deeply into the demon’s throat. Blood spurted and flowed, the demon bucked wildly, but Ethan reached down and held the two lips of the wound apart as long as he could before his terrible wound started to overcome him.

  I rushed over to help with Ceriden at my side, but by the time I got there Asmodeus was all but dead, being swarmed now by a dozen vampires.

  But Ethan was also dead.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head, stricken with grief. I put aside the fact that Lucy would have felt Ethan’s death. They were bonded. In that moment, my sorrow was for Ethan alone.

  Around us, the battle raged.

  The hellgate was open again, discharging screeching creatures. The demon horde also bore down on us from two separate streets. I grabbed Ceriden by the collar.

  “It is lost,” I said. “Vienna is lost. Come with me. Don’t waste your life, your power. Your kingdoms. You might make all the difference.”

  Ceriden was distraught, staring not only at Ethan but at his dead and dying brethren. “We are all lost, my friend. I may as well die here, where my kin were first made.”

  It made dreadful sense, but I couldn’t let it happen. First-made and first-turned were imperative phrases in the vampire world but so was last-chance.

  For the first time I used my power for something else. I infused my muscles, my arms and back and lifted Ceriden upright as if he’d risen from the dead. I made him stand tall and shouted, “Retreat! We’re lost. Save yourselves now and regroup in two days for the battle of Las Vegas. It is there where Ubers and humans will make our glorious last stand.”

  I pushed, dragged and forced him out of there. We ran along any route we could find. We were in groups of hundreds, constantly beset and always fighting. I used my power until it was depleted, until I could barely walk.

  Then Ceriden shored me up.

  At least now, I thought, at least now we all know whe
re we will be at the end of everything.

  Nevada.

  Las Vegas.

  The battleground for earth’s last stand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  Lucy could hardly bear to be in the same room as me. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. It got worse when her mother, Raychel, came in.

  We stood, the three of us, at the foot of Lucy’s bed, a family as far removed from each other as one was ever likely to get. And yet, still, we were family.

  “It was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen,” I was saying, “and I’ve seen more than my share lately. He let himself be impaled just to get close to Asmodeus, just to gain that unattainable position. Lucy, he died a real hero.”

  “Haven’t you noticed?” she struck back. “Our hero roster is rapidly dwindling.”

  I had noticed, of course. I hadn’t had time to properly grieve for our dead. And there were millions of others out there. Millions more that needed our help.

  “One last, all-out fight,” I said. “We’re at the end now. Ken and his army are one day away from being in position. We’re ready. There’s another force massing to the east. Two days from now, it’s Armageddon.”

  Raychel shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “The witches are ready to give everything. The spells we’re preparing are the biggest ever attempted. We will be in the vanguard, in the Devil’s lair.”

  I looked over at her. It was getting harder to remember the times when we were really happy. I couldn’t remember me back then, how I acted and how I cared. I was a stranger to myself, and Raychel was much worse than that.

  “Ethan made me,” Lucy said. “Fuck me, I wish I could fucking cry.”

  The cursing, straight from my daughter’s mouth, shocked me despite everything. I opened my mouth to give her a fatherly telling off but then thought better of it. Instead, I turned to Raychel. “You should go.”

 

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