Cloak Games_Sky Hammer

by Jonathan Moeller

  “No, it’s not,” said Russell. “It’s in my pack. Riordan told me to make sure I took it.”

  I looked at Riordan.

  He shrugged. “If we live through this, you can use the money. Maybe get an apartment that’s not in the basement.”

  “Or fix the windshield in your van,” said Russell. “And the front fender, the back fender, the side panels…”

  “It’s seen some action,” I said, rolling my shoulders and grimacing at the pain in my left arm. I was also really cold. I missed my sweater and my coat.

  “Here,” said Riordan, reaching into his pack. “I’ll look at your shoulder as we walk.”

  “My shoulder?” I said. I glanced at my left arm as we followed Valjakar’s party into the trees. The cut from the crossbow quarrel had scabbed to an ugly black, and there was a lot of half-dried blood on my upper arm. “Oh, yeah, that. Forgot about it in all the excitement.”

  Russell let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-laugh. “You forgot. You almost got shot with a crossbow, and you forgot.”

  “To be fair, I get shot at a lot,” I said. I had also actually been shot, not with a crossbow but with an AK-47. That hadn’t been fun. “Valjakar’s not going to let us stop for you to look at it.”

  And, truth be told, I didn’t want to stop. We had…what, six hours until Nicholas launched his attack on New York? It might be less than that. Corbisher had told Nicholas and Karst about me by now, and Nicholas might decide that was serious enough to launch his attack early. I assumed he would have to wait until the High Queen was in Manhattan before attacking, but I didn’t know how long the High Queen and the Skythrone would be in New York. A day? More than a day?

  I should have paid attention to all the damn news about the Royal Progress. The radio and the TV and the Internet hadn’t talked about anything else for weeks.

  Riordan drew out a small first aid kit from his pack, handed it to Russell, and set to work cleaning out my cut as we walked. That hurt, but I had endured much worse. I watched in silence as he finished and then wrapped a bandage around my upper arm.

  “Where’d you learn to do that while walking?” I said.

  He smiled a little as he tied off the bandage. “As a soldier of the Wizard’s Legion, a long, long time ago. We would have to move in a hurry, and sometimes there wasn’t time to deal with minor wounds.”

  I nodded a little. Riordan had been looking after me for a while now, hadn’t he? Ever since he had walked into that hotel lobby disguised as Rory Murdo. He had taken me to the John Doe Hospital in Manhattan after I had been shot, and while I didn’t know how much money that had cost him, I knew it had been a lot. He had helped me save Russell from Lorenz, and he had kept us alive in Last Judge Mountain.

  “Thanks,” I said, my voice quiet.

  Riordan nodded.

  “And…for everything,” I said, making myself meet his eyes. “For watching my back. If…there’s not another chance to tell you, thanks for everything. You didn’t have to find me…”

  “Yes,” said Riordan. “I did.”

  We stared at each other.

  The hell with it.

  I stepped up to him, leaned up, and kissed him. Riordan flinched, and then kissed me back, one arm coiling around my back to help me keep my balance.

  I don’t know how long it lasted. It felt like an eternity, but that still wasn’t long enough.

  “Uh,” said Russell. “Guys? Guys? We should probably keep moving. The frost giants are looking at us funny.”

  I broke away from Riordan, reluctantly.

  “Yeah,” I said, my voice a little shaky. “Yeah, he’s probably right.”

  “Probably,” agreed Riordan, though he smiled.

  “The frost giants are staring,” said Russell.

  “That’s their problem,” I said. I took a deep breath, my heart racing against my ribs. “Okay. He’s right. We should continue this conversation later.”

  “Yes, we should,” said Riordan.

  Later. If there was a later. If Nicholas didn’t kill the world first. Or if the frost giants didn’t decide to kill us. Though the ones staring at us didn’t look angry, just annoyed and bemused.

  We walked for an hour, moving through the strange forest of blue-glowing leaves. Twice we were attacked by creatures of the Shadowlands, once by wraithwolves, and a few minutes later by a pack of anthrophages. I don’t think they were under the command of the Archons or the Rebel Gatekeepers, but just the usual creatures wandering the Shadowlands. During both attacks, the frost giants wiped out the enemy with brutal efficiency, either slicing them apart with their huge swords or unleashing volleys of magical ice that pinned the creatures.

  I didn’t even have to do anything.

  After the second attack, we saw no further creatures. Perhaps they had learned the danger of attacking the frost giants. I started to feel a little better as my stamina recovered from the exertions of the recent magical battles. It probably helped that Riordan made me eat two more protein bars and drink half a canteen of water.

  At last, we emerged from the forest and onto one of the bleak plains that filled the demesne of Grayhold. The strange sheet of blue fire still covered the sky. In the distance, I saw grim mountains rising against the horizon and the citadel of Grayhold sprawled across the slope of one of those mountains. It was as colossal and overwhelming and as half-ruined as the citadel of Venomhold, but it lacked the twisted malignancy that pervaded Natalya Karst’s stronghold. The citadel of Grayhold instead had a sort of ancient grandeur to it, like looking at some old statue in a museum.

  If I was the kind of person who went to museums, anyway.

  But all that was in the background.

  “Wow,” said Russell. “That is a lot of frost giants, and…”

  “Dwarves,” I said in a quiet voice.

  Valjakar and his men had led us to an army camp.

  Half the tents were huge, built of silver-trimmed black cloth, and housed frost giants. I saw frost giant sentries patrolling the perimeter of the camp, and many pairs of glowing eyes turned towards us as we approached.

  The other tents looked like prefabricated shelters built out of peculiar golden metal, and dwarven soldiers stood guard at that side of the camp. The dwarves were just slightly shorter than I was, but much wider, with arms as thick as both my legs put together. They wore armor fashioned from the same metal as their shelters, and as we drew closer, I saw whirling clockwork mechanisms visible beneath the armor plates. Those machines let the dwarves deliver blows with enough force to crack stone.

  “I’ve never met any dwarves before,” said Russell, staring at them.

  “You haven’t missed much,” I said. “They’re kind of assholes.”

  Russell blinked. “All of them?”

  “Well,” I said. “I don’t know about all of them. The ones I’ve met definitely were. They think God screwed up the universe, so they’re going to fix it, and then all other races will become obsolete and die out. Nothing personal.”

  “Lord Valjakar,” called Riordan, and the frost giant thane glanced at him. “The dwarves of Nerzuramaxis have joined the frost giants in the Knight’s alliance?”

  “They have, Shadow Hunter,” said Valjakar. “The dwarves have grown concerned with the Knight of Venomhold’s rising power. The dwarves are all mad, but they are wise enough to see the voidspawn for the danger they are. As you said, our differences matter little in the face of a common enemy.”

  “If you’re telling us that,” I said, “you’ve decided we are not spies?”

  Valjakar shrugged. “That is for the Jarl to decide. If you are spies, it matters not what I say to you, because you will not be leaving here alive.”

  With that cheery thought, we walked into the camp. It had been laid out in an orderly grid, probably at the insistence of the dwarves, and both the frost giants and the dwarves stared at us as we passed. The dwarves all had reddish-gray skin, like expensive granite, and flat black eyes that had no emotion
whatsoever. They spoke to each other in their strange jagged language, their voices as calm and as flat as if they had been generated by a computer.

  There was a clear space in the center of the camp, and two figures awaited us there.

  The first was Jarl Rimethur himself. He looked a great deal like the other frost giants, but his hair and beard were iron-gray instead of black, like the color of old ice, and his armor was a good deal more ornate. A black cloak lined with silvery fur hung from his shoulders, and his eyes glowed the color of the sun striking a frozen lake in winter.

  The second man was the Knight of Grayhold.

  Jacob Temple looked as I remembered. He was a big, tall man, about Riordan’s size, with blond hair bound back in a ponytail and bright blue eyes. Temple wore a battered green jacket, a blue work shirt, dusty jeans, and scuffed work boots. Over his right hand he wore a metal gauntlet inscribed with magical symbols, and a sheathed sword hung at his left hip.

  Temple’s cold eyes met mine, and he smiled, once.

  “Lord Jarl,” said Valjakar. “We patrolled the border with Venomhold, as you commanded, and came across a battle. These three humans fought off an attack of Rebel humans and orcish mercenaries. We dispersed their attackers, and the humans claimed they had information about the Knight of Venomhold’s plans. The older male is a Shadow Hunter. The female claims to be the wizard thief we confronted in the human city of Madison.”

  Rimethur stared at me for a moment and then nodded.

  “Yes,” he said. “You have done well, Valjakar. Take a moment to rest, but be ready. We will need to act soon.”

  “Lord Jarl,” said Valjakar, bowing again. His warriors followed suit, and they turned and strode back to the tents, leaving me, Riordan, and Russell alone with the Jarl and the Knight of Grayhold.

  We stared at each other for a bit.

  “Then it is her, Knight?” said Rimethur, his voice a deep, solemn rumble. “It is indeed the wizard child who served as your tool during the attack on Madison?”

  “That’s her, my lord Jarl,” said Temple, his voice marked with a Texas twang. He made a gesture with his armored hand, and I had the sudden sense that he was testing my aura. His eyes met mine again. “Though you’re not a child now, are you?”

  “No,” I said. “I suppose not.” I grinned my humorless rictus of a grin at him. “Hiya, Jake. How you been? Love what you’ve done with the place. I guess filling the sky with blue fire is the trendy thing nowadays.”

  Rimethur snorted. “Yes. That is her. I recognize that mocking voice.”

  “My lord Rimethur,” said Temple, “this is Nadia Moran, shadow agent of Lord Kaethran Morvilind, her younger brother Russell Moran, and my old friend from the Wizard’s Legion Riordan MacCormac. Of course, I became the Knight of Grayhold, and he became a member of the Family of the Shadow Hunters, so our lives have taken divergent courses.”

  “You remember me?” said Russell, blinking.

  “Son,” said Temple with an easy smile, “the last time we met, you kept an M-99 carbine aimed at my head while I had a chat with your sister. I always remember everyone who points a gun at me.”

  “It is a hard thing to forget,” said Russell.

  Temple’s gaze turned toward Riordan. “Looks like you found her again, Mac.”

  “I did,” said Riordan.

  “Don’t suppose you managed to shoot Nicholas Connor in the process,” said Temple.

  “I did that, too,” said Riordan. “Didn’t do any good. He has a knight of the Dark Ones inside of him, and it healed the wound at once. Two days ago we saw him get shot through the head with a .50 caliber minigun bullet. It blew off the top half of his skull and spattered his brain all over the floor. He was back on his feet in two minutes.”

  Rimethur scowled. “He is possessed by a powerful noble of the voidspawn.”

  “We’ll deal with him now,” said Temple. “He…”

  “Hey,” I said. “Sorry to interrupt, but can we cut to the chase here? The world’s going to end in about four hours.”

  Rimethur looked annoyed, but Temple smiled. “All right, Miss Moran. Go ahead.”

  “I know why you’ve got the frost giants and the dwarves of Nerzuramaxis working together,” I said. “You see that big Rebel and Archon army gathering over the border in Venomhold, and you know they’re up to something bad. You know Nicholas Connor is about to move, but you don’t know exactly what he’s going to do. You just want to be ready to respond.” I took a deep breath. “But we know exactly what Nicholas is planning.”

  Rimethur’s eyes narrowed, though his voice was calm. “Then enlighten us, shadow agent.”

  “Nicholas found the Sky Hammer,” I said. No recognition showed on Rimethur’s face, but Temple’s eyes narrowed. “It’s an extremely powerful nuclear weapon left over from before the Conquest. A guy named Jeremy Shane was going to use it on the High Queen, but he changed his mind and decided to ally with her against the Dark Ones. Shane’s followers assassinated him for it, and they tried to overthrow the High Queen. She wiped out all his followers before anyone could tell her about the Sky Hammer, and it was forgotten in the desert in Nevada until Connor figured out where it was.”

  “Then the Rebel warlord now has a nucleonic war engine?” said Rimethur.

  It took me a second to realize that was what the frost giants called nukes.

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s just over the border, a couple of hours that way.”

  “And he’s planning to use it on the High Queen?” said Temple.

  “Today, in another few hours,” I said. “The High Queen’s in New York. Manhattan, specifically. The last stage of a Royal Progress through the United States. The Knight of Venomhold has a Cruciform Eye, and she’s going to use it to open dozens of rift ways to the city at once. The Rebels and their allies will attack the High Queen, and while she and the Elven nobles are fighting off the attack, Nicholas is going to drive the Sky Hammer right underneath the Skythrone. When the bomb goes off, it will destroy New York and kill the High Queen and all the Elven nobles. It will also knock the Skythrone out of the air, and it’ll be like an asteroid hit the Earth. Nicholas figures the ash cloud will cause global famine, and he thinks it’ll be easy to conquer the Earth in the resultant chaos.”

  Rimethur and Temple looked at each other.

  “Is this true?” said Rimethur at last.

  “Every word, lord Jarl,” said Riordan. “I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. You know the Rebels and the Knight of Venomhold have been working towards a common goal for a long time. This is it.”

  “Then many mysteries are revealed at last,” said Rimethur. “The strategies of our enemies are laid bare to us.”

  “Yeah, great,” I said. “Listen. You need to lift the seal and let me open a rift way to Earth right now.”

  Temple’s eyes swung back to me. “And what would be gained from that?”

  I scowled. “Weren’t you listening? The Rebels are going to nuke New York to get the High Queen. I know how to contact Lord Arvalaeon, and if I do, he’ll warn her…”

  Temple sighed. “You’ve got a lot of spirit, but you haven’t thought this through. Let’s say you warn the Lord Inquisitor, and he tells Tarlia. What happens then? She decides to flee, and the Rebel spies warn Connor and Karst. Oh, you better believe they have spies in New York. Connor will realize what is happening, and he’ll shove the bomb through a rift way and set it off. He won’t knock the Skythrone from the air, but he’ll still kill the High Queen, wipe out the Elven nobles, and kill a lot of innocent people.”

  “Yeah, well, what the hell are we supposed to do then?” I snapped. “We…”

  “Nadia,” said Riordan, and he put a hand on my right shoulder. I hadn’t realized that I had taken a belligerent step towards the Knight of Grayhold. “He’s right.”

  “Okay,” I said, forcing back the anger. “Okay. What are we supposed to do instead?”

  “We attack,” said Rimethur. “We gather our forces
and strike across the border to Venomhold. The voidspawn cannot be allowed to gain such a victory. They would transform Earth and humanity into their private reserve of cattle as they did with Kalvarion and the Elves.”

  Temple shook his head. “That would be suicide. If you cross the border, you will face the full power of the Rebels and the Archons…and the Knight of Venomhold herself. A Knight is invincible within the bounds of his or her demesne, and Natalya Karst would wipe out all of you by herself. The Rebels would not need to lift a finger. No. Our objective must be simpler.”

  “What’s that, then?” I said.

  “The simplest objective of all,” said Temple. “We find Connor, kill him, and destroy the Sky Hammer weapon.”

  I snorted. “If it were simple, we would have done it already.”

  “I didn’t say simple was the same as easy, Miss Moran,” said Temple. “There’s only one way out of this mess, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

  “Which is, Temple?” said Riordan in a dry voice.

  Temple grinned at him. “The frost giants and the dwarves are going to follow Connor’s army to New York, kill him, and disable the Sky Hammer.”

  “The High Queen’s going to love that,” I said.

  “She won’t mind,” said Temple. “We’re going to pull her bacon out of the fire, so she’s not going to complain. And we’re on the same side when it comes to the Dark Ones. You know exactly where the Sky Hammer is?”

  “It’s in a blue box truck,” I said. “And once Nicholas takes it to New York, I know exactly where it has to go.”

  “The focus crystal at the bottom of the Skythrone,” said Temple. “The bomb will have to be under it or nearly under it. That’s the only place where the EMP wave will hit the crystal with enough force to disrupt the levitation spell. Otherwise, the rock of the Skythrone will soak up most of the EMP wave and it will keep flying.”

  “So, what then?” I said. “You’re going to send the dwarves and the frost giants to Manhattan and have them converge on the Skythrone?”

  “Yup,” said Temple. “You should still contact Arvalaeon, of course, if you can get ahold of him, but I have something else for you to do.”