Crusader

by Andrew Smith

  “They look normal enough to me,” Clement replied as they ran

  “Apriti,” said Grace, and tapped the knots with her wand. They fell open. “Wow, now that’s pure luck,” she said as a ball of white light slammed into the wall near her head. Bits of sheet rock flew outward and a nearby painting crashed to the ground. She and the linguist both used the occasion to swear. The steam still clouded the corridor, which is why, Grace surmised, the shot had missed. She set off another round of fire works and hoped they would set the bastard’s hair on fire. She tapped Clement’s shirt and said, “Proteggere,” before repeating the process with her own shirt. They both glowed faintly blue.

  “Better than bullet-proof,” said Grace.

  “You hope.”

  “Yeah.” They continued to run down the hallway. Grace randomly fired red force-of-light orbs behind them. “I assume we’re running towards the nearest exit,” she said.

  “Stairwell at the end of the hall,” he said. “We can go back up, or to the rear exit downstairs.”

  “Down is faster,” Grace noted.

  “Okay,” said Clement.

  There were no more signs of fire from behind as they reached the end of the hall. Grace allowed herself a small measure of relief, but they still had to make their exit and make it to the safety of the tea shop, which Mary had assured her was quite secure. Grace only hoped it was true.

  They leapt down the three flights to the bottom of the stairwell and out into the bottom floor hallway. Lionel was waiting for them. He fired a white orb at Grace’s chest and she flew backward several feet. The proteggere spell dissipated most of the force. She fired back even as she flew through the air. Her aim was off again, but she still hit him in the chest, though high in chest. He rocked backwards but regained his footing quickly as Grace scrambled to her feet. Lionel fired another orb, but Clement jumped in its path, catching it on his protected torso.

  “Venga a me!” Lionel cried. Grace’s Focus was ripped from her hand and flew into his.

  Foci were all very personalized things, so odds were wouldn’t be able to use it, but it still angered Grace, even beyond the fact that she was now unarmed. “You cheat!”

  “Shut up!” Lionel roared and leveled his Focus at her head. He fired and Grace leapt out of the projectile’s path. “You can’t do anything without your wand,” he said. “Stop fighting and I,” he sighed as if to say ‘this is so gauche’. “I promise your death will be quick and painless.”

  “Said the necromancer, and she chose not to believe him,” said Grace walking slowly forward. Lionel eyed her suspiciously and spirited her Focus into the depths of his cape. “But there’s one thing you’ve forgotten,” Grace continued, right in front of him now.

  “And that is?”

  She didn’t reply, save to slap the Focus from his hand. As it clacked onto the opposite wall and fell to the ground, she stomped hard on his foot and brought her knee up into his groin. Lionel gasped in pain and doubled over. Grace pegged him in the head with the heel of her boot until he fell over. “People from the normal world don’t always need a wand, you arrogant son of a bitch,” she shouted, and kicked him once in the ribs for good measure. She turned to Clement, just now picking himself up off the floor. “You want a piece of this?”

  Clement shrugged, walked over, and kicked the unconscious necromancer in the ribs as well. A sudden thundering announced the belated arrival of the Peelers, a half dozen of whom, armed with nightstick Foci, came forth from the stairwell. One called back up, and the Chief Investigator appeared.

  “Over here,” Grace called to them. “This is the kidnapper,” she said.

  “Well, well,” said C.I. Gregor. “Lionel the Necromancer. Been a while since we seen him around here.”

  “Take him away, chief,” said Clement. Grace shot him a look. “Come on, how many chances am I gonna get to say that, huh?”

  She rolled her eyes and began to walk away.

  “Where are you going?” Clement called after her.

  “Not sure,” she replied. She looked to C.I. Gregor. “Can I stop by later to question him?”

  “If you like.”

  “Great.” She paused to think and realized that she needed to go to Mme. Rumella’s, and Clement needed to come with her. “Come on,” she said to him. “I’ve got some questions for you, too.”

  “Alright, but can we get something to eat first? I’m starving.”

  “Don’t worry, there’s food where we’re going,” she said as they set off.

  Distractions

  It wasn’t long after Wyyla’s sensitive ears picked up a strange noise that the ant-spiders attacked Mme. Rumella’s Tea Shop. The proprietress and the sprite, along with Leila, Benny and Mary were within when the first creature smashed into the window. Six others slammed themselves against the glass in the seconds following

  Mme. Rumella tsked and commented, “They’d have better luck with the door.”

  Which she proceeded to cross the room and lock. Everyone but Leila remained calm. Leila had never been in this sort of situation, and though she had heard the shop was secure, the crushing wave of giant angry things with fangs tended to put a hit on her confidence. “Aren’t you going to do anything?” There was an edge of panic in her voice

  “Tranquility, pet. They’ll tire themselves out soon enough. Would you like something herbal and soothing?”

  “Sure.”

  Mme. Rumella set some water boiling and poured Leila her tea. Leila still jumped sky high as the first creature crashed down on the roof. Mme. Rumella frowned. “They must be jumping from the auditorium next door,” she remarked. “I assume,” she turned to Mary, “that these are the ‘ant-spider things’ to which you earlier referred.”

  Mary nodded. “They could climb up the walls of the shop if they wanted. They’re probably just trying to frighten us.”

  “That or break in through the roof,” said Leila.

  “Not bloody likely,” said Benny

  “But if they just keep piling up and pushing in, something’s gotta give,” Leila insisted. “I mean, doesn’t it?”

  “It already did,” said Mary. “And I think it was your nerve.”

  “Hey!”

  “Since we appear to have some time on our hands, we’d best have a good think about our situation. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to scan the horizon,” Mme. Rumella announced, thenshe promptly exited up the stairs.

  “Alright then,” muttered Mary. “Let’s all think: someone is attacking Mme. Rumella’s Tea Shop. They must be thick.”

  “Not necessarily,” Benny spoke up.

  “Really? Do you have another explanation?” Mary asked.

  “No, but it’s what my aunt would say,” Benny replied.

  “True.”

  A few minutes passed in silence as Benny and Mary stood around looking thoughtful, and Leila sipped at her tea. Wyyla hovered in the windows. The creatures seemed to have fairly acute vision, as the ones nearest the windows kept snapping at her diminutive form. She could see that a few of the creatures had been crushed under the weight of the others, and were lying motionless on the ground.

  “Come to think of it, these things didn’t attack me till I was barely a block away. Perhaps it was confirming that the shop was the center of things on our side. It did ask me who I was. Maybe I was just on a list of names.”

  “What does that mean?” Leila asked her.

  “I don’t know,” Mary admitted. “But I can’t imagine why anyone who knew we were involved would not know that you can’t break into this place. Ruin would know, I think, and Lionel certainly.”

  Leila paused a moment before voicing her thoughts. “I hate to point out an obvious and glaring piece of idiocy on the part of everyone involved, but what about the people- or powers or gods or whatever- who sent the Crusader? He never told us who they are. Dr. Marion from the Mulhoy Institute ran into a Crusader years ago, and that one didn’t say anything either. We have no earthly idea, hell,
we don’t even have an unearthly idea who sent him, or why. We’ve all let our curiosity get the better of us, and assumed, somewhere in the back our brains anyway, that their intentions are pure. What if they want to use the Standard themselves, and the only thing that has prevented them from doing it is that they could never figure out how to read it? Maybe they set this whole thing up to find out. Or maybe they didn’t, but either way, the Crusader knows we’re involved, and knows that we’re here. If he sent word back that we’re close to finding the thing, and they didn’t like that, they could send, for the sake of argument let’s say an army of ant-spider things, to send the message that our prying is somewhat unwelcome.”

  She looked around and everyone avoided her gaze. As if in answer, there came a pained hissing from outside. They all rushed to the window to look out. At the rear of the swarm of creatures stood the Crusader, stamping and punching and swinging his longsword. The creatures did not appear happy with this turn of events. They watched in fascination from inside the shop as the Crusader fought on. More and more of the creatures turned to fight him and he was soon lost to view

  “I think one knocked him over,” Leila said sadly. “He can’t last long on the ground.”

  She was proven wrong by the tip of the Crusader’s blade as it forced its way into view, right through the middle of one of the ant-spiders. The creature squealed as the Crusader kicked it off of his sword. The Crusader got up onto his knee as another creature attacked him from behind. He reached, grabbed it, and threw the creature, long as he was tall, bodily from the scene. It landed some yards away on top another.

  Mme. Rumella descended the stair. “He’s doing quite well for himself, isn’t he?” she commented. Leila and Benny jumped at the sound of her voice. “Calm, children. I believe I know why they’re attacking us.”

  “Why?” Mary was the first to ask.

  “It’s a distraction. From the top window, I noticed a red Peeler flare. From the center of the city. From, if I’m not mistaken, the Mulhoy Institute.”

  “Lionel must have brought the linguist back,” said Leila. “What about Grace?”

  “I’m assured she can handle herself until the Peelers arrive. And I think she’ll have to,” said Mme. Rumella.

  “Not necessarily,” Benny disagreed. Mary and Leila shot him a look

  “What is it, Benny?”

  “Well, I could fly over there and see if she needed some help.”

  “Always flying,” said Mme. Rumella, shaking her head

  “It could work,” Mary defended him. “He could leave from the third story. It’s likely out of range of both the ant-spiders on the ground, and the ones on the roof,” she added before Mme. Rumella could say anything.

  “We’d have to open a window. One could come in while it was open. One could jump on him from the roof,” Mme. Rumella pointed out, gesturing to the numerous creatures leaping from the roof to take their turn with the Crusader.

  “I can give him cover,” Mary said, securely.

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Auntie, Grace has barely been here a month. Mary said she was a natural, but even so, you would leave her to fight Lionel the Necromancer until the Peelers showed up?”

  “They do tend to be a bit slow,” Leila added.

  “It’s so irritating when you appeal to my humanity,” said Mme. Rumella, crossing her arms. “Come on,” she said, and walked away up the stairs.

  Benny and Mary followed her to the third of the four levels, into the guest room Mary was occupying at present. Mary produced her Focus and rolled it over her wrist twice until it became her pair of metal batons. Benny removed his wand from the pocket of his flight jacket. Mme. Rumella nodded and opened the window. Mary leaned out and creatures from each direction began hissing angrily, trying to reach her. She fired blinding white force-of-light orbs each way, killing the two nearest creatures before clearing the area with twin jets of fire. She ducked back in.

  “Hurry,” she said as Benny moved forward.

  He maneuvered his tall frame through the frame of the window and leapt. “Icarus!” he shouted, and stopped falling. He barely dodged a creature leaping from the roof. Three of them tried to catch him from below, but he was too high up. In a few seconds he was across the street, flying at full speed towards the suspended Peeler flare. He glanced behind him to see half a dozen of the creatures scaling the walls. The window slammed shut and they pounded harmlessly against it

  Turning his eyes back to the path ahead, they were assaulted by the autumn air. He blinked away the tears the wind forced from them and scanned the ground below. Small clusters of people walked this way and that, headed home or to clubs or the theater, or possibly to try and destroy the world, you just never knew with this place. A few blocks from the Mulhoy, he saw Grace’s bulky white coat and her hazel curls spilling from under her woolen cap and descended to street level.

  “Grace,” he called. “Grace!”

  She looked up and followed Benny with her eyes as he touched down, a little roughly. “Hi. Nice of you to show up now, by the way, after I fought the necromancer.”

  “You fought him?” Benny asked in surprise

  “Yeah. Note the rescued person to my right,” she said wearily

  “Hi. I’m Benny.”

  “Clement Jones. You can call me Clem.”

  Benny frowned. “Do I have to?”

  “Benny, we’re headed back to the shop for a sit down and some sandwiches. I’m sure your aunt has a lot of questions for Clement.”

  “Yeah, about that... The reason I’m only getting here now, and we didn’t come help... There’s rather a giant swarm of half-ant/half-spider looking creatures swarming all over the tea shop. I barely escaped by flying through the window.”

  “Jesus. What about the others?”

  “They’re fine, it’s just a bit of a trick to get out.”

  “Funny that you happened to be tied up just as Lionel came to the Mulhoy.”

  “Yeah,” said Benny, “funny that.”

  “So what now?”

  “The Crusader is hacking away at them as we speak. I think it’s safe to wait nearby until he’s through.”

  “The Crusader?”

  “Yeah, showed up out of nowhere.”

  “Hmm... It’s safe to say that I’m suspicious of everyone and everything at the moment.”

  “That’s about how life is here.”

  “Fun.”

  * * * *

  Hunter showed Voz his perch in the building across the street. Suerte Campaign Headquarters swarmed with new security people. “They’re everywhere,” Voz remarked, even pushing the hair away from her eye to take it all in.

  “Two by the gate, one in practically every window, a dozen roaming the grounds,” Hunter rattled off the list. “He must be scared as hell.”

  “They’re not going to help him now.” Voz turned to him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Sure,” said Hunter.

  “Alright,” she sighed. “I know this was my idea, but... It’s so juvenile. I mean, really.”

  “You know you want to,” Hunter said, egging her on

  Voz’s face opened into a smile. “I admit it, I really do. I’ve always wanted to try this.” She opened her mouth and emitted a loud, clear note. Across the road, the cadre of guards all looked around for the source. Voz shook her head. “Needs to be higher. Like an octave. I’d tell you to cover your ears, but I don’t think it would help.” She sang again, higher, louder. Hunter winced despite himself. The guards on the lawn winced as well, and shouted things back and forth, things that were lost under the swell of the single note from Voz.

  It was only a matter of seconds before every window in the mansion shattered.

  Voz stopped singing and smiled. “I can’t believe I waited so long to shatter glass. I hope Suerte was pouring himself a glass of wine just then.”

  Hunter laughed. “We’ve had our fun,” he said. “We should get back.”

&
nbsp; “Right. I wonder if anything’s happened, or if they’re all still sitting around.”

  Hunter shrugged. They set off centerwise, leaping easily from rooftop to rooftop. It took a while for them to reach the nineteenth. The night was chilly. Hunter never minded the weather, and despite never being spotted wearing anything but midriff shirts, Voz appeared not to either. They leapt through a warm patch of Jordanian desert. In the distance were a couple of Peeler flares. One was close to the center of town. The other was small, far distant, and only visible when they were at the peak of their arcing jumps.

  “D’you think?” Voz called to Hunter.

  “Yeah,” he answered before she could finished her question.

  “Where to then?”

  The nearer of the flares disappeared from view, which meant the Peelers had made their arrival. “Tea shop,” said Hunter

  As they approached, Voz’s sensitive hearing picked up the sounds of a struggle. “Careful,” she warned. “There’s trouble ahead.”

  They touched lightly down on the roof of the neighboring church of St. Pandelemon next door. A dozen strange looking creatures attacked a walking suit of armor below. Around him several times that number of creatures, unmoving. The armor was covered with blood of a deep burgundy color, but it didn’t appear to slow it down any.

  “Hey!”

  Voz pointed instantly to the source of the sound. It was Mme. Rumella’s nephew, waving to them from the roof of the British Museum. With him were two other people. Voz leapt over to them. Hunter drew the arquebus from his back and fired. Between him and the Crusader, the few remaining creatures fell in seconds.

  Mary opened the shop door and exited to the street. Hunter leapt down beside her. “How was the view?”

  “Shut up, Hunter. I didn’t want to tire myself out. We’ve got work to do tonight. Look yonder,” she ordered, indicating Benny, Grace and the others across the way.

  Benny and Voz each took hold of Grace and Clement, respectively, and leapt off the museum roof. They touched down lightly, but their arcs were much smaller than the usual feather spell effect.