by TR Cameron
He tucked his wings to send him into a dive and his momentum careened him into the enemy Draksa, who twisted in the air to meet him belly to belly. His foe’s claws ripped at him, dislodged a few scales, and tore others free. The continued assault slashed into his flesh and he screamed in fury. But, he reminded himself grimly, he would only have to endure the attack for a couple of moments more.
A shout from below signaled the handler’s recognition of her danger, but their velocity made it too late. Fyre thrust his adversary into her as she tried to evade, and the speed with which they collided drove her into the concrete floor beneath them with enough force to kill her. He tumbled away from his enemy, scrambled to avoid a follow-up attack, and trailed scarlet blood. His foe uttered a keening wail at the loss of its partner, and although they were enemies, he felt deep sympathy for the creature. He couldn’t imagine losing Cali and wouldn’t even allow his thoughts to travel in that direction.
When the enemy Draksa raised its gaze to him, he saw what that level of anguish looked like. Its eyes held no sanity and only pain. With a growl punctuating each step, the mad dragon lizard stalked closer.
Cali cut to her left to avoid leading the giant creature toward where Tanyith had gone. A flood of satisfaction from Fyre had been followed by a surge of concern, and a matching emotion coursed through her on his behalf.
“Stay safe, buddy,” she sent and said, “This stupid crab shell is impenetrable.” No reply came, and she decided that where before she thought she probably hated the factory as a battlefield, she was now certain of it.
She emerged in an empty space that looked like it might have been a loading dock or storage area to judge by the large garage doors on the walls. The crustacean bulldozed through a moment later and she turned to face it and launched cones of flame from each hand, the ineffective Escrima sticks in their bracelet form again. The beast walked through the fire, seemingly unconcerned. She growled a curse, followed by a shouted, “What is it with you? Go away, stupid beast.”
The monster responded with a swipe of its claw that she dropped prone to avoid, only to have the other one descend at incredible speed. She rolled to dodge it and stopped abruptly when the first appeared in her path. They started to sweep in as she scrambled to her feet and used a force blast to elevate above the appendages.
Unfortunately, her enemy had seen that trick already. With a skitter and a swipe of its claw, it intercepted and redirected her flight to catapult her into the wall. Her hastily summoned cocoon shield absorbed part of the initial impact but less of her fall. She groaned around the pain that flooded through her chest and the agony of the leg that had broken when she’d landed with the limb twisted beneath her. Her fingers scrabbled at her thigh pouch and retrieved a healing potion. She popped the top, drained the vial in a single motion, and scrambled away on her hands and knees. The forced movement of the only partially restored leg dragged a scream from deep in her chest.
Cali summoned a wall of flame to block her adversary’s view of her and crawled to the cover of nearby equipment. Hopefully, she could finish her recovery before it plowed through the obstacles and found her.
Tanyith darted in again, slapped the spear aside, and flicked his blade at the man’s face. Exactly as he’d done the previous two times, the enforcer pulled his head back and out of the way, which caused the drug-coated Sai to miss. This time, though, his enemy didn’t disengage but stepped forward to bring his helmet down in a violent head butt.
He dropped to the ground to avoid the attack, his balance insufficient to dodge to either side. His foe whipped the spear around his head and drove it down, and Tanyith pushed himself back and spread his legs wide. The point stabbed into the concrete floor an inch from his right knee, and he rolled into a backward somersault while his enemy wrenched it free.
The most annoying part of the fight wasn’t the man’s greater reach, although he didn’t particularly enjoy that. Nor was it the armor that had turned aside several attempts to pierce it, which was also frustrating. No, the truly infuriating thing was the confident grin that never left his face, as if he was no threat at all and merely an inconvenience.
Thankfully, the man irritated him enough to increase his determination to defeat him. He tossed one Sai in the air, fired a force burst at his adversary’s legs, and caught the blade on the way down. His foe conjured a shield to block and shook his head. “Please. If that’s the best you can do, you should simply lie down. I’ll make it quick.”
“You should lie down,” he muttered and repeated the process with both hands. The enforcer shifted the shield to intercept one and leaned out of the way of the other, which allowed the attack to pass unimpeded, slam into a piece of machinery behind him, and shatter the plastic case with a loud crack.
That gave him an idea, and he smiled as he caught the hilts of the drugged blades cleanly.
Okay, pal. It’s time to fight dirty.
Chapter Twelve
The potion finished its work and Cali groaned with relief as her broken bones mended and wounded flesh healed. She took the energy draught from her thigh pouch and downed the thick liquid. Her swallows matched cadence with the wrenching of metal from where she’d last seen the crab, and it was only a moment more before the monster thrust the heavy equipment out of the way to clear a path to her.
“Okay, shell-face. It’s time to get serious.” While she’d been reluctant to put Invel’s gifts to use unnecessarily, there was no question that she needed to try something different. She lowered her right hand, retrieved the two distractions on her belt, and performed her best baseball pitch to lob the initial one at the crab’s apparently eyeless face and the other at its feet a moment later.
The first struck and exploded into a fine mist that appeared to stick to the surface of the beast. It made a sound resembling a sneeze and shook violently, and she would have sworn the creature seemed confused. The second globe struck and a wall of glitter rose into the air and sparkled brilliantly to create another sight-blocking barrier between her and her target. She sprinted to her right, hoping to circle and attack from the rear while it was otherwise occupied. Another sneeze came from the opposite side of the sparkling curtain.
Interesting choices, Invel. Something tells me your background isn’t strategy and tactics, though.
She crept through the maze of equipment and smiled when she found herself directly behind the beast as it poked the glimmering wall tentatively with its claws. She drew on her magic and channeled it into her fists for what she hoped would be the strongest human crab-mallet ever.
Fyre had never seen one of his kind move so fast. He darted to the side and rolled as the enemy Draksa plowed through the space he’d occupied and snapped and growled in fury when it missed. The creature had clearly been driven beyond comprehension by the death of its handler and was now far more dangerous because of the loss.
He vaulted and flapped his wings to dodge his foe’s next attack, a wicked blast of lightning that followed a sliding, scrambling turn. The dragon lizard had abandoned any sense of defensive self-preservation, but its furious attacks left little opening for a counter assault. Fyre dove and swooped among the broken equipment as his opponent raced after him, then looped up and over a catwalk in the vague hope that the audience might feel itself at risk and intervene. Instead, they cheered his foe and simply ducked to avoid its claws as it sped past.
Conscious of the blind rage that drove his adversary, he hurtled toward the far wall, descended to increase his speed, and pulled up to barrel-roll and engage his enemy. The other Draksa was much closer than he’d expected, and they traded long scratches that drew blood from each other. Their matching angry bellows echoed off the metal walls of the facility. They both halted their momentum with a rapid beating of wings and turned to face one another again. His breath weapon emerged an instant before his foe’s, and they collided to create a rain shower that covered a third of the factory floor.
Fyre searched for an option, something in the e
nvironment to use against his enemy, but found nothing. He dove and spun and pushed himself to top speed to gain distance from the other Draksa. He flashed over Cali, who fought a giant crab, and he growled in frustration.
She needs my help, which means this jerk has to go.
Tanyith whipped one of Invel’s globes from his belt and hoped fervently that the distraction would be useful against the smug enforcer. It connected with the man’s knee and exploded in a cloud of blue metallic confetti that saturated the air around him. The sight inspired a second diversion, and he lobbed the sphere filled with crystal shards in a gentle arc at his foe. A force blast followed immediately to shatter the container and propel the sharp pieces into the man’s face.
The Atlantean recoiled with a shout of pain as the tiny shrapnel pierced his flesh, then growled and surged into an attack, leading with the spear.
You bastard. You’re not so smug anymore, are you? His previously handsome visage was now a mess of torn and bleeding skin. Tanyith had hoped his eyes might be vulnerable but naturally, his enemy was too smart for that and his half-helm protected them. But both of those attacks were only preludes to the real one and intended only as a distraction from his true plan.
He reached out with his magic and took hold of the pieces broken off nearby machines as they battled. There were a number of them, from baseball-sized to barely more than dust, and he hurled all of them at his opponent from two directions at once. The projectiles battered him and drew curses and snarls as he raised his arms to protect himself and spun the spear to deflect a particularly large chunk.
The attempt to defend himself created a momentary opening, which was all Tanyith needed to slash his blade across the side of the man’s neck. He could have made a deep cut but he pulled the blow at the last moment and backpedaled. The enforcer spun in a rage but managed only two steps before he dropped to one knee with a look of confusion on his ravaged face. He remained vertical for several seconds before unconsciousness toppled him into a motionless heap.
He snatched the spear up in case the man woke before the fight was over—he really did not want to deal with the weapon in his hands again—and ran to where crashes, bangs, and yells marked the place where his partner was fighting. He could hear her muttering over the comm, and answered, “I’m on my way. Hang in there.”
When the power had built fully, Cali raised both her fists high and brought them down while she imagined a mammoth hammer striking the crab. The beast fell beneath the impact, and she had a moment of hope before it staggered upright again. She shouted insults in a fury and looked around her for something to use against the seemingly impenetrable shell. At this point, she almost believed that pulling the catwalks down seemed like the only viable option and had already begun to consider how best to do so when Tanyith appeared in the corner of her vision.
That was good, but what was better was the spear in his hand. “Give me that,” she said and he tossed it toward her. She twisted, caught it, and spun the weapon. Its balance was perfect, which made it no more difficult to handle than the jo staff her sticks combined to create.
And this one is pointy. She whipped her head back to get strands of hair out of her face and grinned at the monster. “Okay, you bastard. Zeb’s gonna have crabmeat in the stew tomorrow.”
She poured magic into her muscles and organs and surged forward to see what her new weapon could accomplish against the oversized seafood dinner that once again snapped its claws at her.
Fyre saw the narrow lane between the equipment and knew he could make it with only a little luck. He dove toward the floor, pulled up an instant before impact, and made a sharp left turn. Lightning from his pursuer struck the wall of equipment to the right and shattered one large piece into several smaller ones that pinwheeled in every direction. A chunk caught him a glancing blow but he barely noticed it as he curved into the open area he’d aimed for.
The lane stretched in front of him but navigating it would require all his flying and evasive abilities. His wings flapped furiously to gain as much speed as he could before the available space narrowed. He swooped low and twisted to the right, then had to swing to the left to pass between a broken piece on the floor and a tall beam that crossed the path. A furious growl behind him as he gained distance indicated that the bigger Draksa proved to be a less proficient flyer.
Yes, this will work.
He saw the giant crab to his right as he rocketed past but had no attention to spare. The thoughts from Cali were all aggressive, so he was confident that she wasn’t in imminent danger. His all-out speed brought the moment he’d waited for much quicker than expected. He pulled up to avoid the wall, careened through a square of hanging beams, and twisted to let his momentum carry him toward the ceiling. At the perfect moment, he exhaled his frost breath—not at the Draksa but at the girders to spread a barrier across between them. His pursuer pounded into the ice without slowing and although the impact didn’t stop him, it did kill his forward progress.
From there, the rest was simple. Fyre dove and latched on to the other Draksa to drive him into the floor below with all the power he possessed. The impact crushed the vital organs and his adversary didn’t even twitch once he released him. Satisfied, he launched into flight to help his friends.
Cali spun the spear as she ran a circle around the crab and her magical speed kept her safely ahead of its wickedly barbed claws. She was testing the beast to see how well it could track her while she gained momentum for the next part of her plan. When she thought she had learned its movements, she gave her legs an extra burst of power and jumped. She landed on the side of its shell and slipped, then caught her balance and leapt again, aiming for its front.
Her feet found purchase, and she channeled all her magically enhanced strength and the power of her momentum into a downward thrust of the spear. The weapon penetrated the shell and stabbed deep into the creature, which bucked under her feet. Tanyith landed beside her and fired lightning into the open wound as she yanked the blade free. She vaulted off and its thrashing limbs forced her to use the weapon to block as she repositioned. “Tanyith, get down here,” she called. “I need your help.”
He complied and she asked, “Can you fling that monster into the air?” He frowned but nodded and she grinned. She’d seen the Draksa circling above and the sight had inspired a plan. “Trust me. Fyre, when it comes up, you hammer the bastard down again. On three.” She counted, poured magic into her body, then dashed forward as she announced the final number. The creature rose about five feet as Tanyith achieved something that probably wouldn’t have worked if the beast hadn’t already been focused on the agony from the wound on its back. Her speed took her all the way across the gap while it was in the air with no problem.
She spun to watch as Fyre came down hard on the crab. She’d left the spear positioned below it with the point up and wedged at the shell’s lowest point. The Draksa drove the monster onto the weapon and the enormous crustacean shrieked, thrashed, and collapsed to twitch and writhe for a few moments.
Cali looked at the Atlantean leader. “Get down here, witch. Let’s chat.”
It took a minute or so for Danna Cudon to make her way to the floor from the catwalk, and by the time she appeared, the condescending smile was on her face again. “Well done, Caliste. You continue to prove to be a worthy enemy.” She raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you’d consider giving up your opposition to us and joining our effort instead? We only desire the best for magicals in New Orleans. You could be a part of making that happen.”
She shook her head. “Stop talking. I get a request, remember?”
The Atlantean laughed. “Is that your boon? That I stop talking?”
“Ha, ha, ha. No. Here’s what I want. From here on out, my friend Dasante is off-limits to you, as are any humans I associate with. This garbage is between us. Got it?”
“That’s a big ask.”
She shrugged. “I defeated your four with my three. I’m sure that counts for something in the
convoluted rules.” Her voice lowered into something close to a growl. “And maybe consider it less a reward for my victory than a way to avoid having me hunt and kill each of you individually for messing with my friends.”
The enemy leader clucked her tongue. “Look at you, protecting the fragile humans. You are truly a caring soul. For now.” Her tone suggested it wouldn’t last.
“Do we have a deal?”
Cudon nodded. “Accepted. We won’t target your precious human pets. We can’t speak for the Zatoras or the Malniets, of course, or anyone not in our gang.”
Cali ground her teeth at the unsubtle hint. “If I trace anything to you, rituals be damned, I’ll take your organization apart. Beginning with you, fire-starter.” The other woman’s grin was all the confirmation she needed. “Now, get your people out of here.”
It was petty, perhaps, but she watched with her arms folded while the Atlanteans departed to ensure that they remembered they had left at her command because they’d lost. Fyre stood on her left and Tanyith on her right to oversee the procession in silence. When they were alone again, the Draksa snorted. “They won’t behave. Nice try, though.”
She nodded. “It wasn’t about making them behave. It was about being able to force the Empress to turn against them—or at least leave them unsupported if they break the rules.”
Her partner shook his head. “When they break the rules.”
“Yeah. Tell your girlfriend to be careful and to keep an eye on Sienna and anyone else important to you. I’m reasonably sure Dasante’s safe but beyond that, I won’t count on anything.”
Chapter Thirteen
Shenni, Empress of New Atlantis, resisted the urge to scream at the woman who knelt at the bottom of the stairs leading to the dais her throne stood on. The formality of Usha’s reception—rather than a conversation in her private office—would be signal enough of her displeasure. Her elite guards were positioned to either side of her subordinate, an obvious threat and additional message.
