by Joshua Roots
“Agreed.”
“Dammit, you can’t do this,” I snarled.
“I appreciate your passion, Marcus,” Devon said. “But we cannot afford...”
Static filled the line.
“...sometimes the moral choice isn’t the...”
The line went dead.
“Stupid technology,” I grumbled, picking up the sat phone. The battery had plenty of juice, but the connection was gone. I tried to redial. Nothing happened.
“Anyone here have a decent phone?” I asked.
Millie refilled my mug. “You can use the one behind the counter. It’s an old-school landline, so it should work just fine.”
“How do you even have service?” I asked, then held up my hand. “Never mind. Conversation for another day.” I turned toward the chipped Formica counter when Steve’s ears pricked up.
A heartbeat later, the ground shuddered. As the vibrations passed, cries of alarm filled the night.
I bolted out of our makeshift headquarters with the rest of the tacticians on my heels. The compound was a flurry of activity as friendly troops gathered their weapons and began moving toward the south barricade.
“Enemy!” one of the tower guards shouted, pointing down. Then he collapsed when an arrow slammed into his chest.
My stomach flipped.
Makha’s forces were here.
I turned to Jethrow. “Tell the archers we’ll need—”
My words were cut off as an enormous explosion engulfed a huge section of the southern barricade. The blast threw everyone to the ground. The world swam and my ears rang as I struggled to my knees. Terror filled my chest as dozens of horns materialized in the smoke.
Chapter 21
The Only Option
“In the center Labyrinth, Ariadne found the injured Asterion and with wine did she ply him.”
—The Legend of Ariadne
Minotaurs crashed through the ruined barricades like waves against the shore. Defenders recovered quickly and pressed back, hurling themselves at the flood of attackers. Steel clashed and arrows pierced flesh. Species on all sides fell as the enemy drove a wedge into our defenses.
“Focus fire on the breach,” Steve bellowed, scooping up a crossbow from a fallen ally and unloading a bolt into an advancing Minotaur. Arrows and spells responded slower than I would have liked, but thankfully the assault slowed the tide of invaders. As more horns pressed into the hole, however, the Skilled attacks began splashing harmlessly around them. Fire Spells dissipated as they reached the front lines, while Air Spells simply vaporized. Only projectile weapons seemed to work and those were few in numbers.
“What’s happening?” Jethrow yelled as his lance of ice shattered into a million pieces several meters before reaching the enemy troops.
Having left my own crossbow inside Millie’s, I drew my Glock and pumped two rounds into the closest Minotaur, who crumpled. “That’s the negating power of their Mystics.”
He raised his staff, then drove the tip into the cobblestone. The shockwave exploded in the direction of the breach, only to fade into nothing more than a slight tremor upon reaching them. “This is very bad, Marcus.”
My gun boomed again and another Minotaur went down. “Thank you, Councilman Obvious,” I shouted. Then over my shoulder, “Archers! Get some more damn arrows over here or we’re dead.”
The rate of fire increased, but still the Minotaurs pressed forward.
I turned to Quinn, who hurled two ineffective balls of lightning at the enemy. “Babe, get us some concealment.”
She nodded, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The smoke near the breach swirled, growing thicker as it raced toward us. It rolled over our position, burying us in a thick blanket of gray. The enemy snarled either in surprise or frustration.
Quinn opened her eyes. They spun and danced in harmony with our concealment. “This won’t last long. The Mystics will chew through the spell in no time.”
I coughed, as smoke filled my lungs. “We need to get the majority of folks to the Normal side of DC.”
Steve shoved a bolt into his weapon. “They’ll know where our exit is and try to cut off our retreat.”
“That’s why we need to keep them distracted. Give them a more attractive target.”
He fired at a pair of horns that appeared in the smoke. The shadow dropped. “Being bait sucks.”
“We just have to buy our people time, man. Speaking of which, Jethrow, go to HQ. Tell Devon we’re getting hit hard here and for Wells to ramp up her deployment ASAP. Do not let her nuke the Minotaur homeland.”
My old friend hurled another ineffective spell against the coming wave of attackers. Thankfully, arrows followed almost immediately, culling the herd where his Skill had failed.
“I’m not sure I can stop her,” he said, gripping his staff in frustration.
“You’re a freakin’ Councilman. You’re trained in weapons-grade bureaucracy. Bury that trigger-happy bitch in red tape if you have to.”
He actually grinned. “I’ll do what I can.” He started to leave but I grabbed the sleeve of his robe.
“Wait, I have a better mode of transportation. Pip!”
The imp appeared at my side, his tiny dagger covered with blood. “Hey, boss. What’s up?”
“Take Jethrow here to Council HQ. You only come back if he sends you, capisce?”
Pip saluted. Then he grabbed Jethrow’s robe and, in a blur, they were gone.
Steel clashed nearby as more friendlies waded into the fight. The few Centaurs in the camp charged into the mix, hacking with enormous broadswords or battle-axes. The tiny Pixies, their wings beating furiously, swooped in and out of the smoke, striking at the enemy with their miniature swords. Behind us, Millie and her waitresses dragged or carried the wounded to the Healers, who were struggling to manage the sudden influx of patients.
There were just so many.
“Quinn, can you coordinate with Millie to begin the evac?”
“You need me here.”
“Yes, I do, but the wounded need you more. Give them cover, mask their movements. Anything to get as many people out before we lose our foothold here.”
She set her jaw. “We face this together.”
“Dammit, Quinn,” I snapped. “This is more important than the two of us. We have dozens of injured who need protection, and you’re way more capable than I am. I may be good at destruction, but I suck at the surgical precision of camouflage. I’m asking you to do this because you’re light-years more powerful. And because I trust their lives in your hands and yours alone.”
She darkened, then yanked me to her lips. The kiss was warm and hungry. Parts of me that had been on hiatus since the battle started suddenly woke up.
“You’re hot when you’re demanding,” she said, pulling back. “Just don’t get used to bossing me around.”
“Trust me, I won’t.”
“You owe me a ring.”
I gripped her hand, running my thumb over the place where a diamond belonged. “You’ll get it as soon as we put this mess to bed.”
“The second this is all over,” she whispered into my ear, “I’m putting you to bed.” Then she released me and sprinted toward the wounded.
“Love you,” I shouted after her.
“Ditto.”
A moment later, the smoke shifted off of us and engulfed the back half of the compound.
“Little help here, loverboy,” Steve called, firing at the horned attackers piling into the breach. I spun, leveling my Glock at the nearest shadow and pulling the trigger. The round missed, but the second one hit its mark. The figure crumpled, only to be replaced by two more.
And another two.
“How can I help?” Pip said, appearing by my side.
“What are you doing here?”
“Disobeying an order. Jethrow is where he needs to be and now, so am I. Gimme a target.”
There wasn’t time to argue. I simply pointed at the massive influx of enemy. “Go nuts.”
Pip grinned as he drew his tiny blade, then vanished into the melee. All I saw were horns. All I heard were screams.
“Dammit,” I whispered, staring in horror at the sheer number of enemy. They lined the entire barricade, clamoring over the walls like ants at a picnic. Each carried an assortment of wicked instruments of death.
“Archers,” I shouted, “light them up.”
Amber lines filled the darkness as flaming arrows streaked across the sky. Some found new homes in the chests of the invaders while others slammed into the barricade. The dry tinder ignited immediately, illuminating the area with flickering light. The fire spread quickly, consuming the makeshift perimeter. Minotaurs bellowed in pain, recoiling as the wall of death rose higher.
Instead of backing away like the rest of his kin, one of the Mystics raised an arm, hurling his dampening spell at us. The blanket smothered those of us near the front line, its weight pressing on our Skill. But the spell had no effect on the fire. He waved again, to no avail, then collapsed as an arrow struck home. The moment he went down, the blanket lifted.
Hell yeah, a weakness.
I waved to a nearby group of Skilled who were launching spells with manic fury. “The Mystics are ineffective against those natural flames. Target the areas outside their dampening field. Everyone else, kill anything with horns in a robe.”
The magical onslaught shifted closer to our line as flames and electricity crashed into earth and barricade. Minotaurs fell to the lightning that ran along the ground. Others were driven back by the sudden explosion of new flames.
Steve and I continued to pour our projectiles into the enemy. Some dropped while others, even mortally wounded, refused to give up the attack. I put two rounds into a nearby Minotaur who growled and launched himself at me. We crashed to the ground, knocking the gun from my grasp before I could pull the trigger a third time.
We rolled, coming to a halt with me pinned beneath him. Since I couldn’t reach my sword, I punched his crotch. I only succeeded in hurting my wrist. The Minotaur reared back with a massive fist. I raised my arms instinctively, knowing deep down my thin bones wouldn’t stop the killing blow.
It never reached me. Steve appeared behind my attacker and drove a crossbow bolt into his back with his bare hand. The enemy Minotaur gave me a look of confusion. Then he slumped to the ground beside me.
Steve hauled me to my feet and handed me my Glock.
I holstered the weapon, then gazed down at the dead attacker. “Holy crap,” I whispered. The shaft was buried all the way with only the small flecks of feather sticking out of his back.
Steve nodded grimly. “Yeah, I even impressed myself with that one.” The edges of his mouth turned down as he regarded his victim. “Parinos. Went on my first Hunt with him and Makha.”
I burned with fury. At the Council, at Makha, at the other paranormals. Every soul involved was responsible for this stupid war. Their apathy, isolation, prejudice. Only when the devastation was dropped in their laps, when they were forced to confront it, were they willing to make a stand.
And now Steve was killing his clansmen while allies were being butchered by the Minotaur advance.
I focused on the anger, tasting the hot flames as they grew within me. The emotion, raw and unfiltered, clawed at my senses, begging to be released. Carefully, I wrapped my Skill around it, coaxing the power. Then I slowly molded the wrath from its wild, natural state into a raging inferno.
“Get clear!” I thundered, my voice echoing off the surrounding buildings as my body bristled with energy. Friendly forces broke off their assault to dive for cover. No longer hindered, the Minotaurs stampeded into the compound. Holding the storm inside me a heartbeat longer, I connected with the earth at my feet. Then I raised my free hand.
The ground ripped skyward, looming like a monolith. I allowed it to waver a moment, for the enemy to know what was coming. Then I rotated my palm over and dropped my arm.
The giant structure crashed down on the breach in a shower of stone and bedrock. Minotaurs raised their shields, but their cries were silenced under the mound of death. Those on either side scrambled toward safety, but quickly fell to the waiting allied forces.
Friendly troops cheered, but I ignored them. Instead, I focused once more on the earth. I called to it, begging for its aid again. It responded, filling me with its intoxicating strength. I raised my hand a second time, ripping another larger section of the ground.
Before I could release the spell, Pip zoomed back to us.
“Boss?” he asked, staggering as he reappeared.
“Oh hell, Pip,” I whispered.
I hurled the monolith at the barricade but didn’t bother to watch the outcome. Instead, I dropped to my knees, set my sword on the ground and gently grabbed the imp.
My insides twisted into knots. The right half of his face was a mess of blood and shattered bone. The leathery skin that wasn’t soaked red was blackened and smelled of cooked meat. His arm hung limp, the elbow at an awkward angle.
“Got hit,” the little guy mumbled through his ruined jaw. He gripped my arm with his good hand, then he collapsed.
I placed a palm on his shattered face, calling forth the heat of a Healing Spell. Sinew and cartilage were slow to respond. I pulled on tissue, struggling to connect it.
“I can’t fix this,” I muttered as my grip on the Healing Spell slipped.
Steve swallowed, his eyes shining and the muscles of his jaw clenching rapidly. He reached for the Bookworm, tenderly removing him from my grasp. He lifted him into his arms, cradling him like a baby.
“I got him.”
Pip groaned.
“Easy, pal,” Steve said, softly. “I’m gonna get you patched up real quick.”
“Thank you,” was all I could say.
Steve put a hand on my shoulder. “We take care of family.”
Then he sprinted toward the back of the compound, his legs pumping furiously. Damn, he was fast.
The arrow that hit him was faster.
I cried out in shock as it streaked across the compound and punched through his thigh. Steve never made a sound, only tightened his hold on Pip and rotated as he fell so he could land on his back. He hit hard but kept his arms secure around his package as he slid to a halt.
Surprise changed to fury and I drew the Glock. Following the trajectory of the arrow in my mind, I targeted a silhouette with a long curved bow and fired. Before the enemy hit the ground, I’d holstered my gun and raced to the fallen pair.
Steve was already on his knees before I reached him. He carefully set Pip down before grasping the shaft of the arrow with both hands. He snapped the four-bladed tip off, then ripped the projectile from his leg with a roar. He pressed a hand against the entry and exit wounds, blood pumping between his massive fingers.
I hit the stone next to him, shoving my palms beneath Steve’s slippery red ones. The liquid was hot and flowing at an alarming rate.
“Artery?” he asked through clenched teeth.
I nodded, already whispering the words of the Healing Spell. The heat of my magic was lukewarm and my connection to the injury fuzzy.
“What I get for not watching my flank.” Sweat formed on his snout and his breathing became heavy and quick. “Sorry,” he added to Pip who was wheezing next to him.
“I need a Healer over here!” I shouted, working furiously against my own exhaustion to close the wound. Flesh responded, slowly knitting back together, but my concern was the thin walls of the artery. I gripped it with my Skill, racing back and forth in a mad dash to staple it back together. Unlike Turina’
s injury, Steve’s required even more delicacy. Any misstep could ruin a nerve, damage a vein, or destroy a muscle. Like Pip, he needed an expert.
I wasn’t going to be much help for long, either. The haze between me and the injury increased while my fingers felt thick like sausages. My head pounded and my mouth went dry.
Then the demand of the spell was too much and the connection dissipated.
“Healer!” I screamed again, looking around desperately. No one responded. Every friendly troop was too busy trying to stem the tide of enemy that seemed to be coming from all angles. A Centaur dropped two Minotaurs before taking a sword in the flank. Across from him, a Mage unleashed an Air Spell, which fizzled and died against a Mystic. She called another spell to her, but was killed by an arrow before she could release it. A Fae swooped forward, using his ethereal form to strike the enemy from the shadows. When he hit the Mystic spell, however, he materialized and was struck down before he could retreat to safety.
One by one, our small band of fighters were falling while the number of Minotaurs kept increasing. They poured over the walls and dropped from rooftops. They swarmed us, pushing our troops back farther and farther.
The line was breaking.
I swore, the taste of defeat sour in my mouth. I glanced at Pip, his broken body rattling as he breathed, then Steve. Our eyes met and he frowned.
“It’s the only option,” I said.
His massive nostrils flared. “Dammit.”
Blue-stained talons gripped one of my fingers.
“Did our best,” Pip mumbled, half of his face struggling to smile. My eyes stung.
“Wasn’t enough,” Steve grunted.
“No.” My voice faltered. “It wasn’t.”
I squeezed Pip’s hand, then rose unsteadily to my feet. My Skill was almost depleted, but I had enough juice for a final, minor spell. I sucked in an enormous breath and held up my hands.
