Cloak Games_Sky Hammer

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Cloak Games_Sky Hammer Page 10

by Jonathan Moeller


  “Oh?” I said. “Do you, now.”

  “Nadia Moran,” said Temple, and he grinned at me. “As I recall, you owe me a favor.”

  I sighed. “Aw, hell.”

  He was right. I did owe him a favor. And Jacob Temple liked to appear affable and charming, but he was still the Knight of Grayhold, and owing a favor to someone like the Knight of Grayhold was a dangerous business.

  “Time to pay up?” said Riordan, his voice hard as he looked at the Knight.

  Temple grinned at him. “Don’t worry, Mac. I know how protective you get. I’m not going to threaten your woman. And I’m not going to ask her to do anything she isn’t already going to do.”

  “Fine,” I said. Riordan’s woman, though. I liked that thought. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just this,” said Temple. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and drew out a silvery sphere about the size of my fist. “Take this to New York and turn it on.”

  He held out the sphere. I hesitated and took it. It was lighter than it looked, and it felt icy cold against my fingers. There were rows of strange symbols carved into its surface, and after a moment I recognized the style. The Ringbyrne Amulet had been marked with similar symbols, and I realized this was a frost giant artifact.

  I felt the powerful magic beneath my fingers.

  “Okay,” I said. “What’s this?”

  “Lord Jarl?” said Temple.

  “The device is called a sjolmark,” said Rimethur. I suspected I would not have been able to pronounce it. “When we travel from world to world, our wizards use it to align and target the location of our rift ways.”

  “So it’s like a beacon,” I said.

  “Precisely,” said Temple. “When you arrive in New York, cast the rift way spell into the sjolmark, and it will activate. The frost giant wizards will be able to sense its presence, and they will align their rift ways to take our forces to Manhattan.”

  “Okay,” I said. “That’s easy enough.”

  “Two warnings,” said the Knight. “First, you need to cast the rift way spell into the sjolmark immediately when you arrive in Manhattan. It will take upwards of fifteen to twenty minutes for the Jarl’s wizards to target their spells, and we dare not waste a single moment.”

  “All right,” I said. “If you can get us to Manhattan, I’ll do it immediately.”

  “Second,” said Temple, “when you activate the sjolmark, any wizards nearby will sense it.”

  “Ah,” said Riordan. “That’s not good.”

  I looked at him. “The Inquisition?”

  “They’ll be monitoring all of New York for any rift way spells,” said Riordan. “For that matter, no matter how good Temple is with the rift way spell, the Knights of the Inquisition will sense it immediately when we show up. The entire island of Manhattan’s going to be on lockdown for the Royal Progress. We’ll have to move quickly to keep from getting arrested.”

  “Great,” I said. I had spent most of my life in fear of Homeland Security and the Inquisition, afraid that I would screw up one of Morvilind’s jobs, get arrested and executed on a Punishment Day video, and then Russell would die of frostfever.

  I looked at my brother. I had spent my life, nearly all one hundred and eighty years of it, trying to save him. And now if I screwed this up, not only would he die, but fifteen million other people when Nicholas nuked New York, and then billions more if he carried out the rest of his plans.

  “All right,” I said. “We’ll just have to be quick. As soon as we get there, I’ll activate the soul…the sole…” I grimaced and gestured with the sjolmark. “This damn thing. Then we’ll steal a cell phone and call Arvalaeon. And assuming we do all that, then I’m heading for the Skythrone and waiting for Connor. Hopefully, I’ll figure out a way to kill him by then.”

  “With that, we can offer help,” said Temple, looking to Rimethur. “My lord Jarl? I suggest we share some of our armaments.”

  “Very well, lord Knight,” said Rimethur, and he turned and shouted a long command in the frost giant tongue. Two frost giants emerged from a tent and strode towards us. “The Knight has chosen to trust you, wizard child, so we shall trust you in turn. We shall equip you with the armaments of the frost giants.”

  One of the frost giants unwrapped a bundle, and I found myself looking at three rifles.

  At least, I thought they were rifles. They kind of looked like old-style hunting rifles, with wooden stocks and elaborate, polished bronze fittings, though the barrels had been carved with frost giant symbols. The triggers had also been sized for frost giant fingers, and I thought I could get like half my hand inside the trigger guards.

  “You guys use guns?” said Russell, peering at the weapons.

  “Of course we use guns,” said Rimethur with amusement. “We are not barbarians, young Moran. A warrior must master all aspects of battle and weaponry. Though firearms do not work in the Shadowlands, so here we must rely on sword and spell.”

  “Okay, these are really nice guns,” I said, “but bullets don’t bother Nicholas.”

  “These bullets will,” said Temple with a smile. “They have been loaded with eight voidslayer bullets each.”

  “Voidslayer?” I said. “I like the sound of that.”

  “As well you should, wizard child,” said Rimethur. “Each bullet was forged individually by master craftsmen and enspelled by our greatest wizards, the pinnacle of frost giant science and magic. The voidslayer bullets will kill any Dark One housed within mortal flesh. Even a knight or a great lord of the voidspawn, such as the creature that possesses Nicholas Connor, will be slain by these bullets. Of course,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “they will also kill the mortal flesh housing the creature, but humans are much easier to kill than Dark Ones.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “I don’t suppose you have any reloads for those things?”

  “Eight shots each,” said Rimethur. “That is all you will have. Use them wisely. Take the weapons.”

  I nodded and took one of the frost giant guns, as did Russell and Riordan. Rimethur pointed out the operation of the weapon, and I was amused to see that the frost giant guns operated on the same principles as human firearms – trigger, hammer, safety, stock, iron sights, and so on. Though I suppose there are only so many ways you can construct a firearm.

  “All right,” I said. The gun had a leather strap, so I slung it over my back, the strap cutting a diagonal line across my chest. “Thanks for the guns, lord Jarl. If I see Nicholas Connor again, I promise I’m going to put the gun to good use.”

  “Excellent,” said the Jarl. “Perhaps we shall see each other again on the field of battle, wizard child.”

  “Are you ready, Nadia?” said Temple. “I don’t know if you play poker, but we’re about to gamble for all the chips on the table.”

  I looked at Riordan and Russell, and they nodded.

  “Great,” I said. “Let’s go save the goddamn world.”

  “Jake,” said Riordan. “Can you target exactly where your rift way will go in Manhattan?”

  Temple shrugged. “Somewhat. I can definitely get you to Manhattan. I can’t drop you at an exact street address, but I can get you close.”

  “Try to get us as close to the intersection of 105th Street and 5th Avenue as you can,” said Riordan. “The Family has a safe house in one of the apartments there. We’ll be able to get a cell phone and warn Lord Arvalaeon immediately.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” said Temple. He grinned. “You know, Mac, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you found her again.”

  “Your approval fills me with joy, Jake,” said Riordan in a dry voice.

  Temple grinned at me. “Didn’t he tell you, Miss Moran? That’s the real reason he infiltrated the Rebels. Not to kill Connor. Not to serve the High Queen. But to find you again.”

  I took a deep breath, not sure of what to say to him, and then Temple gestured with his armored right hand. The gauntlet flashed with gray-white l
ight, and a curtain of mist rose from the ground. A heartbeat later it shone with the familiar glow of a rift way.

  “Good luck,” said Temple.

  “Thanks,” I said. I looked at Russell and Riordan, took a deep breath, and then we walked into the rift way.

  Chapter 7: I Died And Went To Hell

  Striding through a rift way is a weird experience.

  It’s only a single step. But it feels different. One step is taking you from the Shadowlands back to Earth, an unimaginable distance that can’t be measured in miles. There’s a whirling sense of dislocation, even across a single step, and then suddenly the Shadowlands vanish, and you find yourself someplace else.

  I stepped through the rift way, Riordan and Russell coming a half step behind me, and we left the Shadowlands behind.

  Instead, I found myself standing somewhere in Manhattan.

  It was about ten in the morning or so, and it was a hot day, the sky blue and clear without a single cloud overhead. A beautiful July 4th. I shot a quick look around, partly from caution, partly from disorientation. We were standing on a sidewalk, and across the street, I saw the green expanse of Central Park. Next to us rose a long line of expensive-looking condo and apartment buildings. Central Park was to the west, which meant unless I missed my guess, the rift way had dropped us somewhere close to East Harlem. If Central Park was to the west, then to the south should be…

  I turned and saw the massive disk shape of the Skythrone hovering over Manhattan to the south. It looked like a city of white domes and towers atop a giant flat disk of stone. At the bottom of the disk, in its center, I saw the huge crystal that was the apex of the spell that kept the thing flying. The Skythrone was hovering over…Times Square, I thought. Seemed to fit with the High Queen’s general sense of the grandiose.

  There were American flags and royal banners flying from every lamppost and hanging from many of the windows. A good many pedestrians were on the streets, and the atmosphere was festive. A Royal Progress was a big deal, and a lot of people would have turned out to see it. Hell, there were probably tourists from across the United States and maybe North and South America to see the High Queen.

  More people for Nicholas to kill with the Sky Hammer.

  Several alarmed looks were turning in our direction. Had they seen us come through the rift way?

  “They’re staring,” said Russell, puzzled.

  “Oh, shit,” I said, understanding. “We’ve got to get off the streets right now. We look like a paramilitary squad.” I was sweaty and bandaged and dusty. I also was still wearing a gun belt with semiautomatic pistols on either hip, which I had lugged through the Shadowlands. Russell and Riordan both had AK-47s slung over their shoulders, and they were wearing combat fatigues and ballistic armor. And all three of us had voidslayer guns.

  And New York City was on lockdown because of the High Queen’s visit. I think the NYC branch of Homeland Security had something like forty or fifty thousand officers, and they would have called in help from the neighboring states to meet the manpower demands. For that matter, the Inquisition would be monitoring the city, and they might have detected our incoming rift way.

  Already I saw several nearby people reaching for their phones, no doubt to call Homeland Security and inform them of the disheveled-looking gunmen.

  “I know where we are,” said Riordan. “This way. We’re not far from the Shadow Hunters’ safe house.” He shot a quick look around. “In here.”

  He gestured, and we hurried to a narrow alley between two of the apartment buildings. It was just wide enough for a single truck, and dumpsters lined either side of the alley. Riordan broke into a jog, and Russell and I followed him. We turned a corner, darted through a little parking lot filled with delivery vehicles, and Riordan came to a stop before a dented steel security door.

  “Here,” he said. “This pizzeria went out of business just before I left New York to find you. Doubt anyone has moved in yet.”

  “I’ll get the lock,” I said, and cast a quick spell. Telekinetic force reached from my mind, released the lock, and the door swung open. Riordan went first, drawing one of his pistols, and Russell and I followed him into a small kitchen. The kitchen looked like it was getting remodeled, and half the appliances had been ripped out, chunks of broken drywall scattered across the floor. The door to the dining room was missing, and the main room of the restaurant was getting remodeled as well.

  “All right,” said Riordan. “We should have a few minutes. Someone would have called us in, but it will take Homeland Security a couple of minutes to check it out.” Russell walked over and locked the kitchen door.

  “Okay,” I said, lifting the sphere that Temple had given me. “Let me use this soul…sole…this damned thing quick.” I still couldn’t pronounce sjolmark, and I didn’t have time to care. I focused my will and cast the rift way spell, directing the spell into the device.

  The result was odd. The metal sphere vibrated in my hand, and the symbols flashed with a harsh blue light. They continued to glow, and I squinted, looking away from the bright light, and then cast the spell to sense the presence of magical forces. The sjolmark was radiating magical power and a lot of it. Any wizard who came nearby would be able to sense the damned thing.

  “Is it working?” said Riordan.

  “I think so,” I said. For lack of anywhere better to put the thing, I opened one of the empty ammo pouches at my belt and stuffed it inside. “It’s up to Temple and the Jarl now. A phone, we need a phone.” I looked around the kitchen and found a spot for a wall phone, but wires hung from the junction box. I hurried into the dining room and ducked behind the front counter. There was a phone there, and I seized the receiver in triumph, but the line was dead.

  “Let’s go to the Shadow Hunters’ safe house,” said Riordan. “It’s only about six blocks from here, and we can take the alley the entire way. Once we’re inside, Homeland Security won’t bother us.” He grimaced. “Though Homeland Security’s liable to have bigger problems very soon.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s move.”

  Russell unlocked the alley door and opened it again. “But I thought we had another four hours until Connor attacks.”

  “That’s what he said.” I looked into the alley, glanced around, and stepped into it, and Riordan and Russel followed me. “But Nicholas isn’t stupid, unfortunately. When Corbisher tells him that he saw us, he’ll realize that we might have escaped to Grayhold, that we might be able to get back to Earth to warn the High Queen. He’ll attack as soon as he can get his troops ready.”

  “Which means he might show up any minute,” said Russell.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “We’d better hurry,” said Riordan, and he broke into a jog, Russell and me following him.

  “Hey,” said Russell. “I just thought of something.”

  “What?” I said.

  “We just walked from Nevada to New York in like two days,” said Russell.

  I blinked and coughed out a laugh. “Guess we did. Let’s never, ever do that again.”

  Riordan paused as we passed an intersection of alleys and glanced towards the street and the green expanse of Central Park. I saw a blue Homeland Security SUV go past, lights flashing but the sirens off. That meant Homeland Security was investigating the sighting of mysterious gunmen, but given all the troubles involved in securing a place the size of Manhattan, they weren’t taking it too seriously. Likely they would send an SUV to circle the block a few times and look for problems, but that would be that.

  “How much farther?” I said.

  “Just another block,” said Riordan, craning his neck to look at the buildings.

  “Because if we don’t get there soon,” I said, “I might mug someone and take their cell phone. I have got to contact Arvalaeon…”

  “Here we are,” said Riordan, stopping before another alley door. He started punching a number into a keypad. “And the Elves are as ready as they’re going to be.”

  �
��What do you mean?” I said.

  “There have to be tens of thousands of Homeland Security officers in the city,” said Riordan. He hit one more button, and the door buzzed and unlocked. “The High Queen doesn’t go anywhere without the Royal Guard, and she’ll probably have Morvilind and Arvalaeon and a few other archmages with her.” He pulled open the door, revealing a concrete stairwell. “They’ll put up a fight. We just have to make sure they look for Connor and the Sky Hammer.”

  “Yeah,” I said, following him into the stairwell. Riordan closed and locked the door behind us as my mind raced. Manhattan was a maze, with a million places for Nicholas’s blue box truck to pop out of the Shadowlands. Yet he would have to head for the Skythrone to use his bomb for maximum effect. But if his way to Times Square was blocked, he was smart enough to detonate the Sky Hammer rather than let it fall into the hands of his enemies. True, he wouldn’t knock the Skythrone from the sky, but he would still destroy New York and kill the High Queen and most of the Elven nobles, and that might cause enough chaos for his purposes.

  Half the cake was better than no cake, and Nicholas knew that.

  The urgency drummed in my mind as we ran up the stairs. I could almost feel every second ticking away.

  We reached the fifteenth and top floor of the building, and Riordan opened a door. Beyond was a hallway with a blue carpet, lined on either side with doors of dark wood. Here and there landscape paintings hung on the wall. Each door had an intercom next to it. It all looked tasteful and very expensive, though I imagine the property values would drop somewhat if Nicholas blasted it all to radioactive ashes.

  Riordan stopped before one of the doors and hit the intercom button. “Blizzard alpha wine zero plank turbulence.”

  I blinked in confusion, then my brain caught up and realized that it was a recognition code.

  The intercom buzzed, and a male voice with an English accent answered. “Carnival totem manuscript valve bolt joint.”

  Riordan nodded, frowned with concentration, and said one more phrase. “Zero drywall mulch plate.”

 

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