Cloak Games_Blood Cast

by Jonathan Moeller

  And Lorenz was going after Alexandra and the others right now.

  “Alexandra!” said Robert.

  “Damn it,” I snarled.

  I grabbed Russell’s rocket launcher, which he had just reloaded, and slung it over my shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” said Murdo.

  “I’m going to stop Lorenz and Vastarion,” I said. “Follow me as fast as you can.”

  With that, I sprinted down the balcony, making for the food court as fast as I could. With the flickering glow dancing over the walls and balconies and the stink of smoke and pulped anthrophage filling my nostrils, it was kind of like running through hell.

  But that was all right. I was used to hell.

  Murdo, Vander, Russell, and Robert hurried after, Robert and Murdo keeping pace with me, but I had an advantage that they didn’t.

  They had to take the stairs.

  I reached the end of the balcony overlooking the food court, vaulted the railing, jumped, and cast a spell.

  I caught a telekinetic grip on the railing of the fourth floor and pulled myself up, the velocity of my jump translating into an upward arc. This was really hard to do without breaking every bone in my body, but I had done it tens of thousands of times in the Eternity Crucible, and I had gotten good at it. I soared upward, caught in the grip of my magic, and I slammed into the fourth-floor balcony railing. I rolled over the railing, landed on the rocket launcher, and scrambled back to my feet.

  A red mist had fallen over my vision.

  Lorenz was going after a child. A one-year-old. A baby. The scheming, slimy, smirking bastard was going after a baby to get at me.

  Either I was going to kill him, or he was going to kill me.

  Chapter 13: Never Talk

  I sprinted around the corner, bringing up the rocket launcher as I did.

  The security office was thirty yards further down the balcony. And as I expected, Lorenz and Vastarion were both there. Lorenz stood against the railing, a pistol in both hands. Vastarion stood right in front of the door, his left hand extended, rippling green light washing from his fingers and into the door. The heavy metal door was rusting away beneath his necromantic magic. I wondered why he didn’t use telekinetic force to just open the lock the way I did, and then I remembered what Vander had said about different wizards having different magical strengths. Maybe Vastarion just didn’t know that kind of spell.

  I had planned to Cloak and shoot Lorenz from concealment, but he had anticipated that. The glow of a Seal of Unmasking covered the balcony floor.

  We were going to do this the hard way.

  I skidded to a stop and aimed the rocket launcher. I had been at the business end of a fired rocket several different times, and even through my rage, I felt a brief instant of glee that for once I was the one shooting a rocket-propelled grenade at someone.

  Then Lorenz saw me as my finger tightened on the trigger.

  “Shit!” screamed Lorenz.

  Vastarion whirled, his hand coming up as I fired.

  The rocket screamed from the black tube in a cloud of smoke, and Vastarion cast a spell. A wall of green light shimmered into existence in front of him, sealing off that end of the balcony. The rocket slammed into the wall of green light and then exploded.

  Vastarion’s wall of green light winked out, and the necromancer stumbled back, blinking in surprise. He must not have had time to put together a powerful ward, or he had underestimated the amount of force from the explosion.

  Either way, he was dazed, and that gave me an opportunity.

  I sprinted forward, calling together power for a spell.

  Lorenz leveled his pistol at me, but before he could fire, I cast a spell. A curtain of white mist sheeted up before him, hardening into an ice wall, and I heard the crack as his bullet ricocheted off it. The wall also cut Vastarion off from Lorenz.

  The necromancer snarled, green light playing around his fingers, and a sphere of ghostly emerald light burst from his hand and shot towards me.

  He had just flung necromantic force at me. A death spell, probably, one that would wink out my life as it touched my flesh. I couldn’t dodge it. Could I block it with the Shield spell? But what kind of magical energy could counteract a death spell? It wasn’t as if elemental fire could block death…

  Wait.

  Regeneration.

  I cast the Shield spell, charging it with the power of the regeneration spell that Arvalaeon had taught me. A golden dome of light appeared before me, and Vastarion’s spell slammed into it. The impact rocked me back, strain screaming through my head, but my will held.

  “Damn it!” screamed Vastarion, starting another spell. “Miserable human monkey!”

  Before he finished his spell, I flung a volley of lightning globes at him, their harsh blue-white glow throwing stark black shadows against the walls and ceiling. Each globe had been charged with enough magical power to stop a man’s heart and fry his nervous system in an instant. Vastarion thrust out his hands, calling a shell of harsh green light around himself, and my lightning globes slammed into the defense. They sparked and flared against the warding spell, and Vastarion stumbled again, his back against the ice wall. My attack hadn’t breached his defense, but it had weakened it. I needed more force to penetrate his defense. Or I needed the same amount of force applied to a far smaller area. It was easier to make a hole in a board with a drill than with a hammer.

  The elemental blade spell Murdo had taught me might serve.

  I cast it as I ran at the reeling Vastarion, and a sword fashioned of elemental fire burst from my right hand. I made the blade as hot and as thin as I could manage, concentrating all its power into as tight of a space as possible.

  I leaped at Vastarion, and he recovered his balance, fresh green light shining from his palms.

  The elemental blade came down as I slashed with all my strength, and it slammed into the shell of green light. For a moment I felt resistance, and then the blade sheared through the ward and ripped across Vastarion’s chest.

  As it happens, burned Elven flesh smells exactly like burned human flesh.

  Vastarion reared back with a shriek, his eyes wide with pain, smoke rising from the gash I had just carved into his chest. He reeled and started to cast another spell, but I was already moving.

  A sphere of fire burst from my hand and blasted through his head with enough force to emerge from the back of his skull and carve a fist-sized hole in the ice wall.

  Vastarion collapsed to the floor, the top half of his head missing.

  I just had time to start taking a breath, and then the ice wall exploded.

  It ripped apart with a flare of fire and a thunderous crack, and a bowling ball-sized piece of ice clipped me on the side of the head, and another hit me in the stomach. That knocked me off my feet, and I hit the floor hard, the back of my head bouncing off the concrete. Stars exploded behind my vision, and I was in too much pain to move or to even draw a breath.

  Lorenz stalked out of the wreckage of the ice wall, elemental fire snarling around his left hand, his right hand holding a pistol that tracked towards me.

  That snapped me out of my daze.

  But my head felt fuzzy, and concentration was a monumental effort. I flung out my hand, pulling together a spell as quickly as I could. I threw a telekinetic shove at Lorenz that I hoped would crack his skull. But my aim was off, and I hit his right wrist. I heard a bone snap, and the pistol fell from his fingers as Lorenz snarled in pain.

  I heaved myself to my feet, reeling, and Lorenz cast a spell. He hurled a sphere of elemental flame at me, and I reacted on instinct, casting a Shield spell charged with the power of elemental ice. A dome of pale blue light appeared in front of me, and Lorenz’s spell stuck it and winked out.

  I drew together more magic, starting another spell.

  And as I did, Lorenz stepped through my Shield and punched me in the face.

  In hindsight, it was the perfect tactic for him to use. I was in good shape, but so
was he, and he was also a foot taller and eighty or ninety pounds heavier than I was. In a hand-to-hand, physical struggle, there was absolutely no way that I was a match for him.

  My head snapped back with enough force that I heard something pop in my jaw, and those stars behind my eyes turned into supernovas. I fell backward, stunned, and Lorenz kicked me hard in the ribs. The breath erupted from my lungs, and the kick flipped me over with enough force that I rolled onto my stomach and flopped onto my back again.

  A knife flashed in his left hand, and I realized that if I didn’t do something right now, he was going to kill me.

  I yanked together as much power as I could and threw it at him. It became a wobbling lightning globe that struck Lorenz in the chest. Sparks flashed, and lightning crawled up and down his limbs, and Lorenz staggered with a bellow of rage. It should have killed him, but I hadn’t been able to focus, and so it had only stunned him.

  I pushed off the ground and got to one knee, intending to stand so I could kill him. Except my head just would not stop spinning, and it was all I could do to stay kneeling.

  That gave Lorenz the time he needed to snatch up his dropped pistol with his left hand and point it at me.

  I saw my death in the bore of the gun. There was no way I could pull together a spell before he pulled the trigger.

  Lorenz smirked behind the gun.

  “You dumb little bitch,” he said. “You…”

  A weird expression went over his face, like all the muscles in his head had suddenly gone slack at once.

  In the same instant, a glistening red dot appeared on his forehead, and I heard the crack of a gunshot.

  Then I heard four more cracks, and dark patches blossomed on Lorenz’s chest.

  The light of the Seal of Unmasking vanished.

  Lorenz fell onto his face and didn’t move again.

  I turned my throbbing head and looked over my shoulder.

  Russell stood behind me, pistol in both hands, smoke rising from the barrel as he lowered the weapon. He was wheezing, his face glittering with sweat, his breath coming in deep gulps. The frostfever was hell on his stamina, and he must have sprinted to get here.

  Hadn’t messed with his aim, though.

  We stared at each other.

  “Hey,” I croaked. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah,” said Russell. He hesitated. “Boy, he shouldn’t have stopped to talk, should he?”

  Chapter 14: Happy Birthday

  Russell ran to join me, and Robert, Murdo, and Vander appeared around the corner and came after him.

  Both Murdo and Russell helped me to stand.

  “Lorenz?” said Murdo.

  “Dead,” I said. “Vastarion, too. I burned out the inside of his skull. Then Russell shot Lorenz.” I started to giggle, which was inappropriate, but I was woozy. “He really shouldn’t have stopped to gloat. Dumbass. Oh, I think I need to lie down.”

  “Here,” said Vander, stepping forward as he flexed his fingers. Crimson fire blazed around his hand, and he put his palm on my forehead. Waves of heat rolled through me, and the pain and wooziness faded. A moment later I felt a lot better. I still was absolutely exhausted, but the pain was gone.

  “Thanks,” I said. “You know, I’m really glad the High Queen paroled you.”

  “As it happens, so am I,” said Vander. “Russell?”

  “I’m fine,” said Russell, still breathing hard. “Just need to get my breath back. And for my hands to stop shaking.”

  “That’s the adrenaline after-effect,” said Murdo.

  “I’m going to check on Alexandra,” said Robert. “It doesn’t look like they got through the door, but…”

  No sooner had he spoken than the door swung open and Alexandra hurried out. Vastarion must have blocked the radio, but he hadn’t messed with the door camera. She flew into Robert’s arms, and I saw Rusk hovering behind her, pistol in hand.

  “You ever kill anyone before?” said Murdo in a quiet voice.

  “No,” said Russell. “Well, yes. Those orcs that were here last year and at the Marneys’ house.” He frowned. “Should I be upset? I feel like I should be upset, but I’m not. I just wish I had killed him sooner. Is that bad?”

  “No,” I said. “He was a murderer, a terrorist, a rapist, and he was about to threaten to kill a baby to get us to surrender. I mean, you shouldn’t go around killing people, but…geez. Lorenz had it coming and then some.”

  “We need to move,” said Murdo. “Homeland Security’s going to be here any moment to investigate the explosion. I would prefer to have time to make sure we wipe everything down and leave no fingerprints behind, but I’ll settle for getting away.”

  “Yeah,” I said, wiping some of the dust from my forehead. “Yeah, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  ###

  We drove our vehicles out of the parking garage, and as it turns out, we just barely beat Homeland Security. We had gone no more than two blocks when I had to pull over to let something like twenty Homeland Security vehicles go screaming past at full speed, their sirens wailing. Most of them were the standard blue patrol SUVs, but I saw several heavily armored vans among them. SWAT teams, it looked like. At least Homeland Security was taking the report of an explosion seriously. The Archon attack last year must have taught the Milwaukee branch of the department greater vigilance.

  But they didn’t pull us over and instead screeched into the Ducal Mall’s parking lot. I wondered what they would make of the explosion damage, the dead orcs, the dead anthrophages, and of Lorenz’s and Vastarion’s corpses.

  I realized I didn’t care, so long as none of the evidence led back to us. But I thought we would be safe. We had destroyed the camera server on our way out, and the Homeland Security and Inquisition investigators would be preoccupied with the massive quantities of dead orcs and anthrophages. Most likely they would conclude that the Rebels or the Archons had been preparing to launch an attack, had fallen out with each other, and then killed each other in a firefight.

  We didn’t dare go back to Vander’s clinic yet, so instead, we drove to a hotel, and Murdo paid in cash for hotel rooms for all of us. Robert and Rusk tried to protest, but they were too tired to argue, and they accepted without much of a fight. I would share a room with Russell, and as soon as we got inside, I showered, put on a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, climbed into one of the queen beds, and slept like the dead.

  I awoke the next morning at about 7 AM, blinking as the morning summer sunlight leaked through the blinds. I sat up and rubbed my eyes and looked around. Russell’s bed was unmade and empty. Probably he had gone to get breakfast. My initial impulse was to find him, but I squashed it. He could take care of himself.

  The Ducal Mall had proved it.

  I went to the bathroom and then flopped back into bed. I ought to get up and talk to Murdo and the others, but I still felt tired and battered, and I wanted to check some things. I dug out my phone and started browsing the Internet, checking the local news sites. To my relief, there was no sign of panic or alarm. The only mention of the Ducal Mall was a report of a large gas explosion in the building’s eastern wing. No one had been hurt, and Homeland Security was investigating the cause, though mechanical failure was the chief suspect.

  It seemed that the Inquisition had decided to cover this one up. I wasn’t going to argue with them. The more thoroughly they covered it up, the less likely it was they would track me and Russell and the others down. For that matter, it also made it less likely that Nicholas would figure out that Russell had killed Lorenz. I didn’t care if Nicky thought that I had killed Lorenz, but I didn’t want him to know about Russell.

  The lock beeped, the door swung open, and Russell stepped inside. He was holding a cardboard drink carrier with two cups of coffee and a paper bag.

  “Good morning,” said Russell.

  “Is that coffee?” I said, sitting up and putting aside my phone.

  “Yep,” said Russell, passing me one of the cups.

  “
You’re a saint,” I said, taking a sip. For hotel coffee, it was surprisingly decent.

  “Happy birthday, by the way,” said Russell, sitting on the edge the bed.

  I snorted. “Thanks.” I took another sip of the coffee.

  “I didn’t get you anything,” said Russell.

  “You did shoot one of my enemies before he could shoot me,” I said. “That definitely counts, I think.” I studied him. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah,” said Russell. “I mean…yesterday was crazy, right? But we survived. I didn’t want to shoot anyone, yeah, but Lorenz…he had it coming, didn’t he?”

  “And then some,” I said. “Thanks, Russell. For saving my life.”

  It was his turn to snort. “If I do it seventy or eighty more times, maybe we’ll be even. Oh!” He reached into the paper bag and drew out a wrapped protein bar. “Almost forgot. Mr. Murdo says you’ll eat these but not much else since you have digestive problems.”

  “I don’t actually have digestive problems,” I said, unwrapping the bar. “I have bad memories. Certain foods remind me of…getting killed in the Eternity Crucible. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  Russell nodded and drew out a doughnut for himself, and we ate and drank in silence.

  “And just think,” said Russell. “We got it all wrapped up before the Marneys got back from Florida.” He hesitated. “I shouldn’t tell them about this, should I?”

  “Oh, God, no,” I said. “They’re probably worried about you enough as it is. You should…forget to mention it.”

  “They worry about you, too,” said Russell.

  “Yeah.” I stared into my coffee for a bit. Morvilind and his retainers had raised me, but the Marneys had always been there before. “Tell you what. I’ll write them a letter before I go. Tell them that I’m busy for Lord Morvilind, and apologizing for disappearing. That should help.”