Abduction

by Alan Baxter

  He flexed his hands, tingling with the early rush of adrenaline. He had stepped onto the mat, into the ring, into the cage so many times before. Walking out to fight was nothing new to him. He remembered Joseph’s den in London, Silhouette’s old home. The challenge he had risen to then, stepping up to fight Ataro, and the sickening bloodlust of his win. That all seemed so long ago.

  He breathed deeply, kept his focus, relaxed in the knowledge the Fey might come through any minute or hours hence. No point holding any tension, it would only fatigue him as time passed. Hood and Darvill might show up any moment or not at all. It was all so bloody nebulous. So he relaxed, but remained ready.

  He gripped Silhouette’s hand. She squeezed back. Jarrod stood huge and implacable beside them. Alex was under no illusion of their role here. Regardless of the platitudes of Parker and others, they were nothing more than bait. This was war. A war Armour had been looking forward to for a long time if the subtext of all Parker’s speeches was to be believed, an excuse to actively engage the Fey. Alex was savvy enough to recognise that. And he was also sure Armour would happily trap Hood and keep him locked away somehow if they had to. Alex, Silhouette and Jarrod could all die within seconds of the Fey’s arrival, whether Hood showed up or not, and Armour wouldn’t give a fuck. Alex and his friends were just more expendable soldiers in the big fight, useful but ultimately irrelevant. In fact, Armour would probably prefer it if he did die, perhaps even before the battle, thereby removing finally the Fey threat. But a couple of things kept him alive. One was the hope he could actually finish Hood forever. The other was the possibility that even if he died, the Lady would have figured out a way to save the Darak. He was sure if those things weren’t so unclear, Armour would have killed him already. And he could hardly blame them for that. Yet he also knew they would gladly have him on board as an operative, if he was no longer a threat to the world. He begrudgingly admired their pragmatism. They thought like a fighter, considering only the things necessary to win, keeping all their contingencies open.

  ‘You guys don’t have to be here,’ he said quietly, knowing it was pointless, but needing to say the words anyway. ‘I’m the bait, I’m the only one who needs to stand in the wide open cold fucking night and face death.’

  ‘We’re going nowhere,’ Silhouette said quietly. ‘I told you, we’re a team. Stand or go down together.’

  Alex squeezed her hand again. He glanced up at Jarrod’s profile, shadowed in the dark. ‘She loves me, so she’s fucking mental. But you don’t have to be here, mate.’

  Jarrod turned to look down, teeth bright in the gloom as he smiled. ‘I love you too, Alex.’ He smacked his lips in a ridiculous blown kiss.

  Alex laughed, clapped the big man on one meaty shoulder. ‘I really appreciate your help.’

  Jarrod looked out over the grass again, his eyes serious. ‘I have an investment in this too. Almost everyone I know and care about died in Sydney at Hood’s hands. And Silhouette is one of the few people left in the world who means anything to me. And we hardly know each other.’ He smiled again, but it was a sadder smile. ‘We’re all pretty much family, us three. The only family we’ve each got, right?’

  Alex nodded gently, keenly feeling their isolation even as hundreds of people watched them. ‘I guess so.’

  Jarrod returned Alex’s pat on the shoulder. ‘Stand or go down together.’

  They lapsed into silence as they waited. Distant sounds drifted to them, occasional muffled shouts of orders, a muted generator, a vehicle firing up and driving away.

  Alex started at Emma’s sudden voice in his ear, though she spoke softly, calmly. ‘The day is thin, gate sensors alive. All scans on wide. The realms are close, Alex.’

  Alex reached up, clicked the small switch to activate his mic. ‘Game on,’ he said to Silhouette and Jarrod. ‘I’m leaving the mic on now.’

  ‘Trackers are sending a clear signal,’ Emma reported. ‘As there’s been no sign of Hood, Chang has sent the final encryptions. As soon as they unlock that, they’ll know exactly where to find us.’

  Alex drew a deep breath, rolled his shoulders. ‘Fey could come through any time. Hood’s been given the information. Stay alert.’

  Silhouette turned suddenly, grabbed him and kissed him passionately, urgently, almost violently. ‘After this, we go to the Lake District,’ she said. ‘And we drink and fuck, and nothing else, for months!’

  Alex laughed despite the tension in the air. ‘Deal. Although, we might have to eat occasionally too.’

  ‘Promise me!’

  ‘I promise.’

  She smiled, kissed him again.

  ‘Maybe I’ll join you for the eating and drinking for a few days,’ Jarrod said in his deep, rumbling voice. ‘But I’ll stay in my own room.’

  Alex grinned. Silhouette chuckled and Alex’s grin became a laugh. Within moments all three were cracking up, shaking their heads, lost in the absurdity of everything.

  ‘Oh, man,’ Alex said, wiping an eye.

  ‘Try to concentrate please.’ Emma’s voice was clipped, officious.

  Alex laughed again. ‘Oh, fuck you, Emma Parker. Just watch your screens and what-the-hell-ever else you’ve got there.’

  They pulled themselves together, slowly calming. The minutes ticked by, the tension built again.

  As the wait dragged on, the strain increased. Minutes stretched and became an hour. Alex and Silhouette shared occasional small bites of irrelevant conversation, aware that Parker and most of Armour were listening in. Jarrod remained silent and solid as a statue. Emma Parker whispered time updates every now and then, probably for something to do more than for any real point of reference. Who cared what time it was? Alex just wanted to fight. He was charged up, ready, swollen with new magic, and completely fucking sick of waiting. And he knew something was wrong. Hood, at least, should be here by now.

  ‘Why the fuck is this taking so long?’ Alex burst out. ‘Seriously, neither Hood nor the Lady here yet? Seems …’ He stopped dead. A light glittered in the distance, blue-white and surreal. ‘You seeing this?’ he whispered.

  Emma Parker and Silhouette spoke simultaneously. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What is it?’ Jarrod asked.

  Emma’s voice again. ‘We have a seer reporting a gate opened one kilometre west, directly behind that light. Delta group has visual, they report one person on foot.’

  ‘Fey?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Wait … can you confirm? Double-check. Okay. Alex, yes, definitely Fey. Delta can clearly see. It’s making no effort to conceal itself, but is in human form. Female.’

  Silhouette and Jarrod each moved a little to either side of Alex as he flexed and stretched again, warming up his joints. He drew on his arcane power, felt the Darak warm through his chest, down into his gut. ‘Let’s do this.’

  The figure approached slowly, bluish light swirled around her like smoke. She wore a long dress, emerald green and shining, her hair thick, equally green tresses that tumbled over her shoulders. As she walked, the full moon began to emerge over the distant hills, the night lightening subtly as it rose. The combination of the woman’s shades was convoluted as she worked some magic Alex couldn’t decode.

  He breathed down his adrenaline. Something wasn’t right here. ‘Any other activity, Emma?’

  ‘No, nothing. All units stand ready. I want to know what that Fey bitch is doing! Alex, is it the Lady?’

  ‘No. At least, not the human form she wore when she had me.’

  The woman got to within five metres of Alex and stopped. She smiled, her face quite beautiful in the soft moonlight that shimmered off her hair and dress, but her expression exuded disdain. ‘You people,’ she said, almost too quietly to be heard. ‘You are just so hilarious.’ She lifted her arms out to either side and the blue light swirling around her increased.

  ‘What is that stuff?’ Emma said, annoyance and incomprehension clear.

  And Alex realised, too late. ‘It’s a decoy!’ he shouted at the same moment
as wind pressed down from above and something snatched at his shoulders with painful sharpness. He cried out as he was whipped up and away with enough force to strain his neck and back. The ground dropped away like a stone, the glowing blue figure shrank to a dot in the night. Emma’s voice was frantic, her words lost in the rushing wind, then silence but for the howl of passing air.

  Alex strained to see what had him. Chitinous hooked feet drew blood from his shoulders that soaked into his shirt and he had a moment of panic as he remembered the Subcontractor before his eyes took in shimmering, iridescent scales. Wind whipped around him and thrust down at him and he realised it wasn’t all due to his own forward motion. Huge diaphanous wings blurred above. The thing was a machine, the chitin actually highly polished metal, so beautifully crafted it looked alive. Opening his vision, he saw subtle magesign swirling around it, silencing its physical noise, the shades so fine, the magic so carefully crafted as to be almost invisible even when he looked for it. It had no other aura for the hundreds of arcane operatives around the battlefield to see coming. All along they had stood prepared for an invasion of Fey, then been distracted by a single one as a fucking machine swept him away.

  The grip on his shoulders prevented too much movement and the air was even colder with altitude. He dare not risk damaging this thing and dropping what appeared to be thousands of metres to the ground. He recalled catching the bus with air and wondered if he could do that for himself, but didn’t trust the accuracy of his ability.

  Besides, the woman had been Fey. This was a Fey device. Whatever else was happening, it would take him to her, the Lady. Hood would have to wait. Maybe Armour would get their shot at him after all. He glanced left and right and realised Silhouette and Jarrod were with him, struggling against their own mechanical dragonfly captors.

  ‘Relax!’ he called out. ‘Let them take us wherever they’re going. Save your energy to fight when we get there, but keep your shields strong. Don’t let the Lady shackle your magic. We’re on our own now.’

  30

  Their bizarre flight was short and swift. As Alex’s stomach turned with a sudden descent, he heard Silhouette cry out his name. He craned his neck to see her sweeping away out of sight. He stretched out one hand, winced at the pain in his shoulder. ‘Silhouette!’

  Her eyes were wide in the night as she disappeared from view. The creature carrying Jarrod shot past, following her into darkness. Alex watched the ground fast approaching, fury burning up from his gut.

  He was carried low over a small town and a patchwork of fields like a soft, dark green mosaic in the moonlight. Long ridges approached, ending in high, curving half-bowls, the whole landscape like four giant fingers had pressed into the earth and left their imprint for eternity. Behind the ridges, the mechanical insect carried Alex down into a long, deep valley. It rose high and steep on one side, shallower and wider on the other. A small river carved its way through. The valley floor looked like a concave closed eye from above. He saw a crowd down there, a host most definitely not human.

  He shored up his shields, remembered the Lady’s hideous shackling magic and built iron-clad walls against it. He hoped. He had had time to consider these defences and silently prayed they would hold. He let his energy build behind his wards, physically vibrating with adrenaline, anger, anticipation.

  The giant bug lowered him towards the valley. Hundreds of Fey in their gangly, stutter-moving form shifted in a crowd, all casting glowing amber eyes skyward to watch his approach. At the head of the valley the Lady sat astride a giant stag, massive antlers curving up before her like trees. She shimmered in her human form, her dress an arterial scarlet of swirling silk and smoke. Alex was brought to within a hundred metres of the Lady, the stuttering host milling beneath him, and the bug hovered some thirty metres off the ground. Even from such a distance, he could see the burning fury in the Lady’s eyes. Behind her, three of the huge dragonfly machines stood vertical, balanced on unmoving tail and wings. Their shining, hinged legs formed a cage around each of the captives. Silhouette and Jarrod were two of them, Sil struggling angrily against the bars of her jail. Jarrod hung still, implacable. Alex’s heart skipped as he recognised, between them, Claude Darvill, similarly trapped, his face a mixture of anger and fear.

  Alex looked more closely at the ground, searched the throng milling in front of the Lady’s stag, and there he was. Robert Hood, pale head like a tiny moon in the crowd, leering up. His eyes were dark, yet there seemed to be little emotion showing through. He stared as if dreaming.

  The Lady’s laughter drifted to him, before her voice rang out, preternaturally loud. ‘You think me so stupid as to walk into your trap, you dancing monkey? You think to challenge me?’ Her voice cracked through the night with its rage, boomed off the valley walls. ‘We may be restricted in realms, but we are not fools, Alex Caine. We have wisdom of ages you could not imagine.’

  As she spoke, Alex searched for any advantage, any way to turn this situation to something close to an even match. He squinted for a better look at Claude and saw something long and dark protruding past the trapped man’s shoulder. He could use that, maybe. His gaze drifted back to Hood as the Fey moved slowly away from him, leaving the pale man alone in a clearing in their midst. Hood wore a dark suit and black shoes that glinted in the moonlight.

  ‘You thought to use this man against us?’ the Lady spat. ‘You have gall, Caine, I’ll give you that. But you think us so useless? Uthentia was ever our dumb beast! He may be a creature of unimaginable power and strength, but only unimaginable to you. He is our trained ape and always will be!’

  Hood thrashed, spittle flew from his lips, his eyes squinting with effort. He growled and shouted incoherently, his face a mask of frustration and anger.

  ‘You see how even now the human tries to master the godling inside? And tries to deny my sway?’ the Lady said, amusement in her tone. ‘You will move when I say you may move, Hood! He thought himself in control of it. In control of the influence of Uthentia! The arrogance of it. You know yourself the futility of that, don’t you, Caine? Yet remarkably, you found a way to cast off that power, and put it in this Robert Hood. No matter. He’s our tool now.’

  Hood danced in impotent rage, as if he fought invisible assailants. The Lady barked some staccato words and he staggered, stilled, and became immobile, staring blank-faced at Alex. But his eyes were alive, burning with a furious passion.

  The Lady’s laughter rolled through the valley like thunder. ‘Funny though, his over-riding desire is to see you dead. I cannot say I disagree with that sentiment. And I’ve devised a way to preserve what I want from you after your death. Did you really think us incapable of this task? We just needed time. Magic is the air we breathe, you brief flesh. Oh, I couldn’t be happier. So I plan to let Mr Hood have his desire, but under my terms. And you did so often beg me for death. You shall have it.’

  Alex realised the time for listening to this creature’s self-indulgence was over. He didn’t know if it was a bluff or not, but if she had a way to take the Darak after his death, he was a whole new kind of fucked. And why would she set Hood on him if she was lying? Now simply killing himself was no longer an option. He had to fight. And he had to win. A strange calm rose in him. Single-minded purpose, and a fight to be won.

  He looked at the ground and decided he had to chance it. The drop was probably deadly, but he had learned a lot with his recent experiences. He drew on all the power he had hoarded inside and gathered every bit of air and wind around himself. He let the immense might of the Darak flood into his muscles, gripped the metallic legs that held him and heaved them apart. He dropped like a stone. The green floor of the valley rushed up to meet him in a crushing embrace.

  The Lady screamed, ‘Get him!’ and the Fey surged apart to let Robert Hood stride forward.

  Alex waited until the last millisecond, heart hammering with adrenaline, and concentrated all the air he had called into a blast of wind at his back. As the ground was about to smash him to
pieces, he shot forward, carried at eye-watering pace by the jet of air slamming into him, directly over the heads of the rushing Hood and the gathered Fey. The Lady cried out, her eyes going wide as he barrelled towards her. He felt her magic slam into him, her enchantment designed to cancel his ability, to trap it within him. For a moment he gasped in pain, his arcane strength flexing under her barrage, but his shields held. He had the measure of her magic now. He hit her like a cannonball, sent her tumbling from her mount.

  The impact completely disrupted his trajectory. He had no control over his flight and hit the hard earth with a burst of forcibly expelled breath. He tumbled, rolled, came up running. He focused only on Claude Darvill, trapped between Silhouette and Jarrod.

  ‘Don’t fight them!’ Silhouette screamed. ‘Get away!’

  ‘No, Sil. This is where I stand!’

  He rushed for Darvill and slammed a punch between the huge dragonfly’s embracing legs, cracking Darvill into surprised unconsciousness. Alex reached in and hauled out the sword from its scabbard across Darvill’s back and dropped, rolled sideways and stood behind the dragonfly to use it as a shield.

  He was not a moment too soon, as the Lady’s magic blistered into the ground where he had stood, a crackling bolt of electric green. Alex ducked around and sliced through the legs on one side of the dragonfly holding Silhouette. The metal sheared away like butter and Sil dropped from her cage, morphed into panther form as she fell, and hit the ground running. She bolted from sight as Alex twisted and hacked to the other side. But the mechanical beast holding Jarrod had already whirred into life, began to rise from the ground. Alex’s blow clipped only the lowest leg, severing it. Jarrod began to struggle against the remaining bonds, but Alex had no time to see if he escaped as more of the Lady’s crackling magic burst against him, searing into his shields and wards.