by Travis Bughi
“What in the. . .” Count Drowin trailed off.
The doors were thrown open, and in the torchlight cast from the angels’ chamber stood Abraham Stout, the gunslinger, a six-shooter in each hand drawn and aimed. His brown cape swooped down over his thin figure and his wide-brimmed hat was tilted forward so low that only his lips could be seen. He smiled, his cheeks pulling back to reveal teeth, and then lifted his head so he could look Drowin in the eyes.
“Hi,” he said, and pulled the trigger.
Chapter 24
Just as Abe squeezed both triggers, Drowin dove to the ground. The vampire was quick, inhumanly quick, but he could not outrun a speeding bullet. It was lucky, then, for him, that the Count was not Abe’s target.
Boom boom.
The two ogres flanking Emily fell to the ground.
Boom boom boom boom.
Four of the ogres to the right of the knights fell to the ground.
Boom boom boom boom.
Four of the ogres to the left of the knights fell to the ground.
Boom boom.
The two ogres standing watch over Adelpha fell to the ground.
And in the seconds it took for Drowin’s body to hit the safety of the stone floor, only three of the original fifteen ogres remained.
Gavin and Duncan leapt to their feet and, with metal-encased fists, struck the last of the ogres guarding over them. The crunch of bone echoed in the ringing silence left by the guns, and the ogre toppled to the ground as blood poured from its nose. The other knights followed suit, grabbing up weapons from their fallen guards, despite their awkwardly large size. Abe, his body now masked by shadowy black smoke, released the empty casings of his spent bullets onto the ground. The ringing noise of metal raining on stone sprinkled into the air like a death chime. Adelpha kicked at her restraints and tried desperately to bite them off.
Emily yanked the poison-covered arrow out of her leg and looked at Adelpha.
“I’m fine!” Adelpha spat a chunk of rope out her mouth. “Kill the beast!”
Emily hesitated, then nodded and limped up on her good leg.
Ahead of her, the six remaining knights were already springing into action. There were only two ogres remaining: one stopping sunlight from entering the room and, in front of him, the other standing guard over Borgan. The one guarding the leprechaun would have to be brought down first, and two of the knights went to do just that. As both knights came charging with wicked, oversized blades in hand, they roared their challenge, and the ogre leveled his own weapon and roared back. Borgan screamed and ran to hide behind the safety of the stone thrones. The other four knights took the more difficult task and charged Drowin, going after the basilisk cage at his feet.
As always, Gavin and Duncan were in the lead. They bellowed as they charged the immortal, raising massive ogre weapons that they were barely able to wield. They cleared the distance admirably quick, but unfortunately too slow. Drowin jumped to his feet but otherwise did not move. As Gavin came forward, he swung his weapon down and put the weight of his charge behind it.
The vampire just smiled.
He deflected the blade with one pale arm and then kicked Gavin square in the stomach. His boot dented the metal plates and sent Gavin flying backward through the air as if a minotaur had struck him. He collided with one of the other knights and sent them both crashing to the ground.
Yelling like a man possessed by demons, Duncan was right behind Gavin. He swung an ogre’s club sideways to crack the vampire’s spine, hitting precisely where Duncan had aimed, but came to a dead stop. Drowin didn’t budge, and Duncan’s raging cry dwindled to a pitiful gasp, which ended as Drowin punched him in the chest. Duncan soared up into the air, folded over, and came to a clattering stop on the unforgiving stone floor where he groaned in pain.
None of them had reached the basilisk.
“Abe! Abe!” Emily yelled as she hobbled forward. “The glass! Shoot the glass!”
The last knight to charge Drowin took a solid punch to the gut just as the vampire turned his head toward the lingering smoke. Abe, still inside, was fumbling, trying to reload his guns as fast as he could. Drowin was just about to take approach him when Emily jumped in the way. The vampire sneered and raised a hand to bat Emily down, but his hand froze and his sneer disappeared when he noticed that she was carrying an arrow dripping black with poison.
He recoiled just in time to avoid Emily’s swift jab. She advanced and thrust it out again.
“Now, Abe! Now!” she yelled.
Emily heard the faint click of metal locking into place and then heard nothing else as Drowin struck her across the face with an open hand. She should have seen it coming, but it was too fast to avoid. She collapsed, head ringing, flailing the arrow wildly.
“Abe,” she muttered.
Drowin roared.
Bangbangbangbang.
Emily heard the shatter of glass, and just as her eyes cleared, she looked up to see the ogre guarding the glass fall backwards through it. His massive body, struck with the force of four bullets, rammed through the weakened glass with ease. The window shattered, and the tiny hole that once was became a gaping chasm.
Once the ogre’s body disappeared, the trickle of light became a flood. The whole room was drowned in it, the torchlight was smothered in it, the darkness was banished by it, and through that which it came Emily gazed upon the setting sun with all the love and affection she could give.
And behind her, Drowin began to howl.
Emily turned back to see the vampire was holding Abe up in the air by his neck, but as the rays hit him, his hand weakened, and Abe was dropped to the ground. Drowin fell next, plummeting to the stone and screaming with all his might. He twisted, kicked, and then curled into a ball, his body smoking and his already charred flesh blackening at every exposed point. He screamed and screamed, begged it to stop, and unable to control himself, looked back at the sun and then cried out again as his eyes sizzled and burned, but he had looked just long enough to see Emily Stout stand up.
The sunlight silhouetted Emily’s body as she limped towards the fallen Drowin. He cried and cried, but the sun would not stop, and the only thing he could hear over the sound of his own voice were the footsteps of his death approaching.
Emily limped on the one good leg she had, winced when she put too much weight on her injury, but never stopped moving forward. In her hand, she gripped the arrow tightly and glanced down at it. Her red blood mixed with and encased the blackness of the basilisk poison. When she reached the Count, she dropped to her knees and put a hand onto his smoking flesh. Surprisingly, it did not hurt her to do so.
“Do it,” Drowin hissed. “Do it.”
“Gladly,” she replied, and then rammed the arrow into Drowin’s side.
She expected him to scream again, but he did not. Instead the vampire sighed, as if Emily had cut into his lungs. But then he breathed in again, and as his flesh continued to smoke and burn, he looked up at Emily just as his lips were peeling away.
“I should have killed you,” he said, “when you first threatened me.”
“And I warned you about hurting my Chara,” Emily whispered back. “I don’t make empty threats.”
“Heh.” Drowin tried to smile but one of his cheeks had melted away to reveal his jawbone. “I love a woman with spir . . . it.”
He trailed off, his eyes rolled back, and he breathed no more. Emily leaned back, letting the sun resume its work. The light continued to consume Drowin, melting away and turning to ash every piece of his body. As the sun slowly set, so did Drowin fade, until only his clothes and a blackened pile of soot and ash remained. As dusk pressed onwards, the wind it brought swept through the broken glass and scattered the remains.
And Emily felt nothing.
She looked away to see that Abe had cut Adelpha’s bonds, though her feet were still bound by rope, and the hunting knife Abe used to free her lay unattended beside them. The queen had wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to
the ground on top of her where she now pressed his face into hers, their lips locking without concern for any eyes that may see them. Emily quickly averted her gaze.
Borgan, both frightened and dismayed, stood between the two knights who had charged the remaining ogre. He stared down at the grey stone floor, and the knights nodded to Emily.
The knights who had charged Drowin were rising, each with injuries aplenty, but still alive. Duncan smiled at Emily, and she gave a faint one back. The other knight raised his sword in a salute and then grunted in pain and regretted the motion. Ahead of them both, Gavin limped toward her, one hand held over his stomach where the dent could be seen between the gaps in his fingers. When he reached her, he offered a helping hand and also a smile to Emily, who was still sitting back on her knees. She looked up at him—at that charming face—and then at the hand. She considered refusing it, preferring to stand on her own if she could, but then remembered her leg and so grabbed the hand with both of hers before pulling herself to her feet.
“Well done, Miss Stout,” Gavin said.
Emily smiled and turned away. She felt her cheeks turn red a bit, and so smirked and then turned back to meet Gavin’s eyes.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” she replied.
“Why is it I always end up getting hit in the stomach when I’m protecting you?” Gavin asked lightly.
“Ha!” Emily laughed. “Protecting me? I’m sorry Gavin, but—”
“AAAHHH!” someone yelled.
Emily and Gavin both whirled around, Adelpha and Abe broke away from their lustful embrace, and the remaining knights snapped their heads towards the center of the room, and in a moment, all eyes had fallen upon Sir Mark O’Conner.
“It’s happening,” he whispered into the silence he’d created. “By Ephron, I can feel it happening.”
Mark was on his knees and hunching forward until his palms touched the ground. His neck, where Count Drowin had bit him, had miraculously healed and was no longer bleeding, though dried blood coated the area and stained the top of his armor. The red layer cracked and moved as Mark took deep breaths, showing vividly his heavy attempts to take in air. He stared down at the floor and balled his hands into fists. Emily began to notice a reddish hue ever so slightly glossing over the knight’s exposed skin.
“No.” Mark began to sob. “Please, no.”
Mark closed his eyes and buried his head into his hands. Emily looked away. Duncan, looking sickly in his helplessness, stared at his superior with mouth open, in an expression that revealed an unwillingness to accept the inevitable. The other knights took not quite as long to recognize the cruel hand of fate, and a solemn aura fell over them. They looked down and away, not wanting to gaze upon what would soon happen. Emily looked to Gavin next.
Many had a reason to dislike Mark. Emily had only known the knight briefly, but that which she had seen told her of a man who was quick to judge and none too concerned if it was done correctly. Mark had an effortless capacity for favoritism, an easily shifted loyalty, and a disregard for the boundaries of his own power. His seniority allowed him the luxury of neglecting potential friends and allies, leading to a bitter view of life that not even the angels’ glow could remove. Gavin had received the rough end of just about every aspect of Mark’s personality. Just this morning, Gavin was to be put to death, and Mark had seemed not at all concerned about it. Of all the people Emily expected to empathize with Mark’s soon-to-be agonizing death, Gavin was not among them.
And yet, he looked distraught.
Emily watched him sigh and look away. Gavin set his jaw and stared at the floor, sharing in equal measure the gloom that was choking the room. He sighed again and closed his eyes, swaying his head back and forth before opening his eyes and looking up at Mark. He swallowed and turned toward the charred remains of what was once the last vampire in Lucifan. Gavin knelt down and yanked the poison arrow free, exposing it to the air. Ash coated the odd mix of red and black liquid that clung to the wooden shaft. There was barely anything left, just a sliver of what had once been, but it was more than enough.
He stood and approached Mark.
“Gavin! No!” Duncan yelled.
Gavin stopped and looked to his friend.
“You’d rather he suffer?” he said in anger.
Duncan tensed, his protest melting. He gave no reply, and so Gavin continued to walk forward, taking hesitant steps. The entire time, the old knight never once looked up to meet Gavin’s eyes, not even when the two met. Gavin paused over Mark’s crouching form. He clenched the arrow in his hand, but seemed to lack the strength to move it. Gavin stared at his superior, unwilling to carry out the action he’d signed himself up to do.
“What are you waiting for, Shaw?” Mark asked. “I know you want to do it. Just get it over with.”
The burning light of the setting sun continued to pour over the two. As Gavin stood over Mark, holding fate in his right hand, Mark continued to change. His skin reddened like an acute sunburn, and Emily noticed a slight mist rising from the old knight’s flesh while he gritted his teeth and winced in pain.
“Get it over with, Shaw,” Mark commanded. “Don’t let me become a monster.”
Gavin bowed his head. Somehow, his task seemed more difficult now that Mark demanded it. He looked to the other knights, to Duncan, but none of them could help. They were looking away, not wanting to witness the deed. Gavin glanced at Emily, then, and she saw the pain in his eyes. She turned away, unable to give him the strength to kill in cold blood.
Having nowhere else to turn, he sought Adelpha and Abe. Abe averted his eyes, but Adelpha met Gavin’s gaze with intensity. As a leader, she understood the weight of necessity—more so than most. As Gavin searched for the strength to do this un-knightly task, he found an unlikely ally in a woman with a will so strong that she’d accepted the need to kill her own sister. And perhaps that was just too much for Gavin, because he shifted away from her, not in understanding, but in disgust.
“No,” Gavin whispered, all too audible in the dead silence.
He tossed the arrow behind him, and it clattered to the ground. Then he knelt down and reached a hand under Mark’s arm.
“You’re not a monster, sir,” Gavin said. “Drowin was the monster, and he’s dead now. If you seek your own end, you’ll have to deliver it yourself. Mercy killings aren’t the specialty of any knight I’ve ever met, and they certainly aren’t mine. The angels trusted you, and now that they’re gone, Lucifan will need you more than ever.”
When he heard the clatter of the arrow, Mark had turned to Gavin with a look of surprised confusion. He could not muster a reply to Gavin’s words and so gaped, his skin smoldering.
“You have a duty to perform, Sir,” Gavin said, “and becoming a vampire doesn’t relieve you of your oath or your promise. Now get up. We have to get you out of this sunlight.”
Mark’s eyes dropped and then rose towards the setting sun. Despite the pain it was causing him, he took it in, all of it, and at first Emily thought he was going to wait to be turned to ash, but she was wrong. After a long moment, Mark turned his back to the last sunset he’d ever see.
Then, with some assistance, he stood up and walked away from the light.
Chapter 25
As Adelpha and Abe helped to bandage Emily’s wound, the knights escorted their commander down to the tower’s first floor and began the duty of clearing the dead. Their own fallen came first, and the group was pleased to find that Mathew was still among the living. Although he’d seen the ogre reinforcements come and go, he’d wisely remained hidden, for he knew that giving up his life as a distraction would not change the outcome of this battle. His faith in his fellow knights had been tested and proven, and so Mathew would live to fight another day.
Through the broken front doors, the crowds outside hinged upon the threshold with a mix of dread and curiosity as the setting sun descended below the large buildings all around the city, and so Mark beckoned the growing throngs of peopl
e into the shadows. Upon seeing the butchered bodies of ogres scattered about, they hesitated, but Mark was surrounded by the knights that the citizens had trusted all their lives, dressed finely in their armored uniforms, and their fears were stemmed long enough for their curiosity to take over. A tide of the anxious flowed onto the bloodied stone, and they listened with eager ears as Mark began to tell the story of Drowin, the tyrant that was, and his colleague, Borgan. He opted for a selective version of the truth, choosing not to pile blame upon the leprechauns as a whole—despite their eagerness to participate in the plan—and skipping over Emily’s and the amazons’ existence entirely.
Though he was no storyteller, the people listened intently. So captured were they by the inner workings of what had been happening all around them that the vast majority did not even notice Abe and Adelpha assisting the injured Emily into the crowd, where they quietly disappeared.
To be honest, Emily was grateful that Mark’s speech had omitted her involvement. He heaped praise upon Duncan, and although Emily knew that Mark wasn’t lying for her benefit, she was relieved nonetheless. She wanted to avoid prying eyes because her job was not yet finished and she still needed her stealth. Adelpha understood, and upon meeting any curious crowd member, a gesture directed at Emily’s leg followed by an angry scowl was enough to usher them aside.
The trio headed towards the docks once they cleared the door. Adelpha took the lead, pushing ahead and callously bumping aside those who did not clear the way fast enough. Abe, one supporting arm wrapped around his sister, followed right behind. Adelpha blazed a trail along Lucifan’s busiest road, through the gridlock of bodies gathered about the tower, with determination. Emily cursed her injury for slowing her down, but she knew that would help little. She wanted to blame the wound on herself, for carelessness, but she knew that wasn’t true. Her anger swam aimlessly for a target that no longer existed. Emily tried to use the leg more, ignoring the injury, but every time she tried to put extra weight on it, the shooting pain would cause her to flinch and stop. So she accepted the assistance of her older brother, and steady progress was made.
