by Nick Freo
“Have you made up your mind about Alia?” Pride prodded.
“Not yet,” I growled. “Do not distract me. We have important things to attend to at this moment.”
We dragged the men’s bodies out of the sitting room where we had slaughtered them, bearing them down to the sub-basement. I collected all of their guns and more magazines. Although they had not used them for the most part, each man had a handgun either in a shoulder holster or stuffed in the waist of his trousers somewhere. I gathered all of them and carried them with the rifle up to the main basement.
The room where we had originally found the caged humans had served Pride well as training quarters. It was long and fairly wide, with stone walls and floors. She had piled rugs as mats in one area, and a mismatched set of exercise equipment in one corner. I laid the guns out on the rugs and arranged the extra magazines beneath them.
I moved to the stacks of cages pressed against the back wall and arranged two of them out in the open, one atop the other. They stood approximately as tall as me but much wider. A good starting target.
I paced back to the guns and selected the largest of them. It was large and brutish. My eyes deciphered the glyphs on the side. Desert Eagle. I gripped it in both hands as I had seen the humans do and aimed down the sights. I took my time lining it up with the center of the top cage, then pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. I grunted and looked at the weapon again. There was a small switch on the side, so I snicked it to its secondary position. I took aim and pulled the trigger again, not expecting much.
Boom!
The gun kicked and roared as it spat a bullet violently. The bullet moved too fast for me to watch its progress, but I witnessed the splintering of wood as it tore through the corner of the top cage. My aim had been poor, but good enough to demonstrate the weapon’s fearsome power. I steadied my stance and fired again and again until the gun clicked lifelessly. By the time I was done, the top cage was barely intact.
Curious, I thought as I replaced the empty Eagle on the rugs and picked up a different, much smaller gun. I examined it to look for a similar switch, but found none. This little gun was called a Glock 19. Its trigger was strange, consisting of two separate mechanisms instead of a single little lever. I aimed down the sights and pulled both triggers.
The roar was considerably lesser than the Desert Eagle, but the Glock cut a sizable chunk out of the bottom cage. It felt a little small and uncomfortable for my hand, though, so I replaced it on the rugs as well.
I experimented with several more handguns, but next to the Desert Eagle none seemed appropriate for me. Its sleek, ghoulish design and massive power was most suitable. If I was ever to use such a noisy, damaging weapon, it might as well be the noisiest and most damaging I could find.
Lastly, I tested the CAR-15 rifle. At first I sent several bullets into my target, but then I squeezed the trigger and guided my aim back and forth until the two cages had all but disintegrated.
“Are you enjoying your new toys, my lord?” Pride asked from the doorway. I was not certain how long she had been watching for.
“Why do you refer to anything within my grasp as a toy?” I asked. “These are powerful tools, powerful weapons. It will do us well to learn their function, even if only so that we may defend ourselves against their like. Come here.” I beckoned, and she came, striding elegantly into the room while brushing her long hair behind her shoulders. “Try the rifle,” I said, feeding a fresh magazine into the weapon and passing it to her. “Hold it like this, and look down the sights. Yes, like that...” I stood behind her, guiding her arms with my hands and pressing my body against her. “Good. Now choose a target and destroy it.”
By the time she had delivered three bullets, Pride’s uncertain expression had turned into a wide smile.
“I like this weapon,” she said after using all of the bullets in the magazine. “It is easy to use and superior to a bow in every way. It is not a replacement for my daggers, naturally, but a good boon to wield alongside them.”
“You see?” I said. “The more we learn, the easier it will be to gain dominion in this world. Here, take these as well.” I passed her the extra magazines and then tucked the Desert Eagle into the back of my waistband. I pocketed more magazines for it. “Our enemies will only expect us to bring our blades to the battle. We will shock them with these and gain a decisive victory.”
“Do you refer to the Enemy of old, or our new enemies here on this world?” Pride asked. “It can be difficult to keep track.”
“All of them,” I replied. “We will defeat any in this world who oppose us using their own tools, then turn those weapons against the Enemy when he arrives. We will be triumphant, and we will be ready.”
“So,” Pride said as she slung the rifle over her shoulders, “am I to assume that we are pursuing Alia, after all?”
“We must,” I said with certainty. “She is my first subject in this world, and our greatest source of information about it. She is too valuable an asset to relinquish so easily. Besides, a ruler’s strength is measured, in part, by the protection he offers his subjects.”
“Are you certain you are not simply missing that shiny new toy?” Pride asked.
“Well, she does keep my feet rather warm,” I commented dryly. “Perhaps you should borrow her sometime, to see the benefits.”
“Perhaps I will.” We stared at one another for a long while, both licking our lips.
“Come,” I said at last, “we must secure the starfire before leaving. And I have an idea about how we might find the address they gave us.”
We climbed the stairs and made our way to the bishop’s quarters. Rather than relying on camouflage, I decided to use the brute weight of the canisters to secure them. I shifted them over next to the heavy door and closed it gradually, sliding the barrels into a line behind it as I did so. The result was that the door would not open more than a few inches before bumping into the barrels.
“Pride, try to open this,” I commanded. She stepped up to the door and threw her weight against it, managing to move it not even a fraction of an inch. “Good,” I said, “that should be secure for now. Unless someone as strong as me comes looking for it, in which case, keeping the starfire secure may be the least of our worries. Now, with me.” I led her down the hall and up a short flight of stairs to Alia’s room.
The computer device was still on, humming away on the vampire’s neat table. The screen was blank but came alive as soon as I touched one of the clacking keys beneath it. The name of this world’s oracle appeared on the screen. I penned the words from the voice earlier onto the screen, using more of the keys.
Words and paintings flooded the screen, as if an arcane artist hid behind it. I could understand the language, but many of the terms were alien to me. Near the top were small drawings of several maps. I touched the first map on the screen with my finger. The screen drew itself a new painting, showing a larger version of the map which resembled, I hoped, the city. There was a small flashing shape marking our present location, and a red trail leading through the streets to the address I had selected. I scratched my chin. Could it really be that easy?
“Do you think this will be enough information for us to find her?” I asked. Pride examined the screen, then nodded. “I recognize the names of some of these streets. Did you know they are written on signs at most crossroads?”
“Indeed, I had noticed. It is very convenient. I would say too convenient... but we already know this is a trap.”
“And we are going anyway?” Pride asked.
“We are going anyway,” I confirmed.
We took a few minutes to memorize the map and the path between the two locations and then left Alia’s room, closing the door firmly behind us. By the time we reached the stone plateau in front of the building, we had dropped into the long, low lope of a pair of killers out on the prowl.
Chapter 17
The closer we got to the address, the larger and more ornate the build
ings became. At first we moved through a neighborhood of dilapidated warehouses, then a clean residential district filled with houses and higher rising apartment buildings. As the houses grew larger and the cars polished and more frequent, Pride’s illusions were truly put to the test. Young children played in the street with sticks and balls, some wearing wheeled boots, others bearing play-armor and protecting nets. I recognized the intent of the game but could not discern its purpose. It was not a form of combat, so what were they practicing for?
To the children, to the couples walking arm in arm, to the men and women pruning their already immaculate lawns, Pride and I resembled two absolutely mundane individuals. The illusion concealed our armor and weapons, even making the rifle on Pride’s back beyond detection.
“We are close,” I murmured to my second-in-command as we crossed a street that looked clean enough to use as a dinner plate. “We will have to go around that, though.” I nodded at the large stone wall, which blocked our direct path ahead. The road split and wound alongside it in both directions. It was at least twice as tall as me and topped by an overhang, which would deter any but the best climber. Pride and I likely could have made our way over, but not without attracting attention.
“What do you suppose this is?” Pride asked as we turned left and walked along the wall.
“Something well-guarded, it would seem. Perhaps it is a fuel depot. They guard their nuclear fuel well. Perhaps they take precautions over their lesser sources of power as well.”
To my surprise the wall did not end in a square corner like most constructions I had seen on this world. Instead, it curved and meandered, eventually meeting with the road in the form of a tall, wide iron gate. There was a man in a booth just beside the road, and through the gate we could see more rows of houses. These were more widely interspersed than any others we had seen, with massive green pastures, fences, and high rooftops. I frowned. These were only houses. Did being wealthy make these people even more cowardly than their poor brethren, or did they have more opportunity to display their fear?
“Can you spare the strength to render us invisible?” I asked Pride after we watched a car drive into the gated area. The man in the booth seemed to control the gate with the push of a simple lever.
“You mean, you’re not going to kill him?” Pride asked, jutting her chin at the hapless guard.
“They would surely notice him missing,” I said as another car approached. “See how often he serves his function? Come, cast your strongest illusion. You need only maintain it a few moments.”
Completely invisible, we walked swiftly into the compound alongside the heavy green car to which the guard had granted access. A moment later we stepped into a small grove of trees, and when we emerged, we once again looked like an ordinary couple, now dressed in expensive clothing to match the tastes of the locals.
“What was the name of the street?” Pride asked as we scanned our surroundings.
“Theodore,” I said. “There, look.” I guided her gaze with mine toward a tall green sign bearing the name. The street it represented would take us deep into the heart of the enemy compound.
“Are you sure we should continue?” Pride cautioned. “We would be quickly surrounded if everyone had a mind to bear arms against us.”
“Half of them are children or elderly,” I replied. “These humans may be weak and cowardly, but they have proven they are not stupid. They would only send their strongest warriors to do battle with us. Of that much I am certain.”
“So you think those men at the cathedral represented the strongest warriors of our hidden foe?”
“Well, evidently not,” I said, “but it seems that organization underestimated us. We must anticipate they will not do that again. Whatever we encounter, do not get in my way.” I felt my hands harden into fists. Now that I had decided to retrieve Alia, my anger at her theft began to blossom. She was mine... and these feeble humans thought they could have her? They thought they could hold her over me?
We will see... we will see.
“That must be it,” Pride said suddenly. She clasped my arm and steered my eyes toward a spectacular estate which sprawled nearly an entire block. I saw immediately why she had identified it. There were two guards posted at the front door, and another patrolling the grounds.
“Likely it is,” I hissed, “but we must be certain. Let us walk by as if we were ordinary neighbors. If it bears the correct numbers, we will use stealth to approach again and invade this excuse for a castle.”
Arm in arm, we strode past the building, glancing around politely. I saw the correct address and my adrenaline spiked, my body realizing that I was indeed deep within enemy territory. I did not believe Pride’s theory that everyone surrounding us could be an enemy soldier, but there could still be traps and pitfalls meant to take us by surprise.
We passed the large estate without incident and detoured behind a thick stand of bushes. Pride drew her daggers. I nodded and beckoned for her to follow behind me as we retraced our steps for a moment, then cut in toward the side of the great house. The walls were made of a dark red brick and had been built in an angular way, by my guess, to give the owner more space inside. The result was a blindspot near the glass side door. Only one guard stood sentinel there, and he was inside the building, watching through the polished surface.
“Can you spare another moment of invisibility?” I asked as we approached.
“Yes,” Pride replied, altering the illusion. “Hurry, I cannot maintain this for long.” There was strain in her voice. The days since our arrival on this world had been hard on her, but she bore their weight with grace and determination.
I stepped up to the sliding door and rapped lightly on the glass with a fingernail. I saw the guard’s eyes bulge as he searched for the source of the noise. At first, he had his gun out, but then he tucked it back into its belt holster when his eyes failed to identify a threat. I tapped again, slightly harder. He looked in all directions, scratched his head, then unlocked the door and slid it open.
I hit him in the chin with a furious blow, swinging from the hips and shoulders, smashing my knuckles into the strong bone of his jaw. The angle was perfect, and he had been leading with his chin as he stepped out of the door. The impact was so tremendous that his neck broke with an audible snap. I caught the corpse as it fell and stepped inside. Pride darted in after me, closing and locking the door.
“I think that went well,” I grunted as I dumped the guard behind a leather chesterfield.
“I hope so, but I think they know we are here.” Pride pointed at what I now recognized as a viewing glass, the so-called security camera. “We never discovered whether those could see through my illusions, and even if they could not, they saw that man die.”
“Only if someone is monitoring them at this moment,” I replied. “I hear no alarm. Come, you need not maintain the illusion any longer. We have spilled the first blood. Any others whom we encounter, we kill.”
We crept deeper into the house, staying close to the walls that were painted a demure shade of red. We found our way to a long hall and moved down its length, checking each room and finding them largely empty. It seemed that save for the guards, this building was mostly deserted.
A sound from around the corner alerted us, and we pressed our backs to the wall. Pride drew her daggers, and I flexed my bare hands. We shared a small smile, and an instant later two patrolling guards came around the corner.
I charged into them, shoving one up against the wall with my weight and crowding the other towards Pride with my shoulder. I heard the slick-slick-slick of her daggers going in and out of his body and smelled the fresh ichor spurting to stain the carpet as I snapped the other guard’s spine like a piece of kindling. I searched both dead men but found only weapons, the talking phones, and small amounts of currency. They did not carry any form of recognizable key, like the guards at the power plant had. It was strange, the similarities and yet the differences I could observe from one human to the ne
xt.
“Are you going to capture their weapons?” Pride asked.
“No, they would only encumber us,” I replied. “Help me hide the bodies, and we shall continue. We must be nearing our target.”
As we approached the center of the mansion, I heard a moan emanating from behind a door. Pride and I exchanged a glance. She drew her daggers again, and I pulled the gun from my waistband and gripped it in a single hand. I nodded, and we burst through the door, myself moving laterally and scanning the chamber, Pride driving deep with daggers flashing.
The room was nearly empty, like the rest of the mansion, except for two features. A tall, well-dressed man stood a short distance away from Pride, smiling at us in a welcoming fashion. He had gray in his short, wavy hair and wise lines along his bright face. He wore a suit that I understood to be stylish and expensive, even while knowing little about this world’s fashion.
Alia was staked to the floor in the middle of the room. Iron pegs pierced her hands and the flesh of her legs, holding her down in a painful fashion only someone with healing of inhuman potency could endure. As extra assurance, chains bound her, weighing her down and connecting to a metal mask that shrouded her visage. It was locked shut, and an iron ball in her mouth prevented her from biting down or speaking. A small puddle of blood had congealed on the floor beneath her, appearing brown and smelling like putrid death.
“Well done, the pair of you,” the elegant man congratulated us. “I’ve been watching you on our closed-circuit feed.” He waved a phone in the air. “It didn’t take you long to get inside or to find me. Those illusionary tricks of yours certainly were effective on my men. Good thing you’re not trying that on me. I see right through them, if you hadn’t guessed.” He straightened his already perfectly straight collar, adjusting the ornamental fabric nestled in the nape of his throat. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m the mob boss who invited you here. Oh, feel free to help your friend.” He gestured carelessly at Alia, a sly look in his eye. “If you can.”
