by Clayton Wood
“I'm out,” he shouted back.
Kalibar flew away from the Behemoth as it continued to fall face-first toward them. Its domed head loomed over them, descending rapidly. But instead of speeding up, Kalibar began to slow down!
“Kalibar!” Kyle warned. They were right in the path of the falling Behemoth...and still slowing down. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and pulling desperately for magic. He could feel some within the bones of his skull, but they resisted him, holding on to their power greedily.
The Behemoth loomed over them, blotting out the sky.
Kyle tore the magic from his skull, a sharp pain lancing through his skull as he did so. He threw the magic outward at Kalibar, a wave of nausea coming over him. Bile welled up in the back of his throat, and he swallowed it down, gagging on the bitter fluid.
Kalibar shot forward, just as the Behemoth's head reached them. It barely missed them, slamming into the ground. The earth crumpled under its enormous weight, a shockwave of dust and debris flying outward in all directions from the impact. The shockwave struck Kalibar and Kyle, tossing them from the Behemoth. Kyle felt himself tear free from Kalibar, the world spinning madly around him. Then he slammed into the ground, the air exploding from his lungs. He tumbled across the grass, coming to a stop on his belly.
He lay there, gasping for air, his ears ringing. Turning his head to the side, he saw the Behemoth's massive head a hundred feet away, obscured by a huge cloud of dust. He felt something grab his arm, and turned to see Kalibar there, Ariana lying a few feet to the side of the Grand Weaver. Kalibar's mouth was moving, but no sound came out.
Kyle grunted, pushing himself off of the ground, spitting dirt out of his mouth. He looked back at the cloud of dust kicked up by the Behemoth, at the shadowy outline of its head beyond.
A huge, diamond-shaped white glow appeared through the dust.
Kyle stumbled backward, his eyes widening. He felt Kalibar grab him by the arm again gesturing for him to run. The Grand Weaver scooped up Ariana, breaking into a run away from the Behemoth. Kyle ran behind him, looking over his shoulder, seeing the cloud of dust starting to dissipate. The Behemoth's giant eye stared back at them, flashing once, then again.
Faint rays of blue pulled from Kyle and Kalibar, from the very ground itself, converging on the Behemoth's eye.
Kyle ran faster, pumping his legs as hard as he could, trying to keep up with Kalibar. He heard a creaking sound, then felt the ground tremble. He looked back over his shoulder.
The Behemoth's head was rising, its eye glowing brighter now. One massive hand slammed into the ground, sending another shockwave outward. The Behemoth pushed itself up onto its hands and knees, rising slowly above the cloud of dust.
“This way!” he heard Kalibar shout. The Grand Weaver angled to the left, toward a group of people in the distance. It was Goran and Urson, he realized...and a few of the surviving Battle-Weavers. Kyle and Kalibar skid to a halt before the group, and Kalibar handed Ariana to Goran. Behind them, the Behemoth rose to its feet, the blue rays entering its eye vanishing. It looked down at the Void spheres lay scattered at its feet.
Then its eye flashed.
A beam of white light shot outward from its eye, striking the Void spheres in front of it. The Behemoth's head turned slowly, its deadly beam searing the ground in a broad circle, annihilating the Void spheres all around it. When the beam finally vanished, all that remained was molten rock and dirt forming a glowing red circle on the ground.
“Sa devon en morf?” Kalibar asked. Everyone shook their heads. “Kam!” Kalibar swore.
“Orpus eng flazi,” Kalibar urged.
“Pas mor,” Urson countered grimly, looking over Kalibar's shoulder. Kyle turned around, and saw the Behemoth standing before them, staring right at them.
Then its eye flashed.
Chapter 27
“Does anyone have magic?” Kalibar asked as he handed Ariana off to Goran. Urson and Goran both shook their heads. “Damn!” he swore. “We need to retreat.” They'd seriously damaged the Behemoth; if they could get more magic, they might be able to finish it off. But Goran shook his head, staring at something over Kalibar's shoulder.
“Too late,” the Councilman muttered.
Kalibar turned around, seeing the Behemoth standing there, its lone, diamond-shaped eye staring down at them. Decades of training kicked in, automatically pulling for a strand of magic to weave. Except there was no magic...the Behemoth had drained it all.
The Behemoth's eye flashed.
Kyle backpedaled, bumping into Kalibar and throwing his arms in front of his face. Kalibar wrapped his arms around Kyle, turning away from the Behemoth and holding him close. He closed his eyes, waiting for the end.
I'm sorry son.
A flash of light seared his eyes, even through his closed lids, and he held Kyle tighter.
I did the best I could.
A blast of superheated air slammed into him, tossing him backward and to the side at incredible speed. He felt himself flying through the air, Kyle still clutched in his arms, hot air searing his lungs.
And then he realized that there were arms encircling his waist, felt himself slowing down. His feet touched down on the ground gently, the air cool once again.
Kalibar opened his eyes, looking down at himself. He was utterly unharmed...and so was Kyle. A few dozen feet before him, a massive glowing red circle had been seared into the ground...right where he'd been standing moments ago. Goran and Urson were on the other side of that glowing circle, having barely escaped the Behemoth's deadly beam.
“Go, now!” he heard a familiar voice yell from behind. The arms around him let go, and he turned around, seeing none other than Master Owens standing there.
“What...” Kalibar began...and then he saw them.
Dozens of men in white robes zoomed through the air toward the Behemoth, each holding a weapon in their hands...something that looked like a crossbow. The men – Runics, Kalibar realized – spread out, surrounding the massive machine.
“Fire!” Owens shouted.
Beams of bright blue light shot outward from the crossbows, slamming into the Behemoth's domed head. The black metal plates protecting its innards turned to dust under the assault, exposing the green crystal underneath. The Runics circled around the Behemoth, fired another volley. Dozens of blue beams ate into the crystalline flesh, gouging huge holes in the Behemoth's head.
The Behemoth took a step backward, its eye flashing.
The Runics scattered just as a beam of white light shot out from the Behemoth's eye, cutting across the night sky. The Behemoth's head turned, the beam sweeping to intercept a few Runics, immolating them. The remaining Runics circled back toward the Behemoth, firing their weapons again. The deadly blue rays slammed into the Behemoth's head, blasting huge holes in its domed skull. Hunks of its huge white eye disintegrated, leaving blackened craters in their place.
The Behemoth's eye flickered.
Volley after volley of the Runics' attacks struck the Behemoth, eating into its head and body. Hunks of green crystal fell in a steady stream from it, along with a massive chunk from the side of its head. The Behemoth stumbled, then toppled over, falling as if in slow-motion. Still the Runics attacked, ripping into the falling machine even as it slammed into the ground.
The earth quaked, a deafening boom echoing through the night air.
The Behemoth's eye flickered, then went dark.
Kalibar stared at the fallen monstrosity, barely allowing himself to believe what he was seeing. He felt Kyle squirming in his arms, and let go, watching as his son turned to gaze upon the Behemoth. Kyle blurted out something unintelligible, pointing excitedly. Kalibar didn't need to be able to understand his words to know what he was saying.
“We did it,” he murmured, watching as the Runics hovered over the Behemoth, blasting away at its armored back.
“Yes we did,” Master Owens agreed, putting a hand on Kalibar's shoulder. “But we couldn't have done it without
you.”
“You mean we couldn't have done it without Kyle,” Kalibar corrected. Owens smiled.
“Without both of you.”
Kalibar watched as the Behemoth gradually disintegrated, then frowned.
“Hold up,” he stated. “Stop the Runics. We need to preserve as much of that thing as possible.”
“Hmm?” Owens replied.
“That thing has advanced runic technology,” Kalibar explained. “It may prove invaluable in fighting Xanos in the future.”
Owens nodded, sending two magical flares high up into the sky. The Runics stopped almost immediately, flying toward them and landing beside them.
“We did it!” he heard Kyle exclaim. Kalibar turned to the boy, taken aback. Despite the fact that Kalibar himself still had no usable magic, Kyle had already managed to power his earring. The boy had enormous power...and he was only at a fraction of his full potential.
“We did,” Kalibar agreed, putting an arm around the boy's shoulders. “Thanks to you,” he added. “You saved us, Kyle...and the Empire.” Kalibar hugged his son, then held him at arms’ length. “You were right to question me,” he added. “I would have doomed the Empire trying to protect you and Ariana.”
“Thanks for letting me try,” Kyle replied. Kalibar smiled, shaking his head.
“You’re going to be a hell of a Runic, you know that?” he said. Kyle shrugged, modest as usual. But Kalibar noticed that he was holding himself differently, more confidently. Something had changed about him...ever since he’d returned from being captured again by the Dead Man.
“He certainly is,” Master Owens declared, beaming at Kyle. “Very impressive, Kyle,” he added. “Master Banar would have been proud of you.”
“Thanks Master Owens,” Kyle replied. Then he turned to Goran, who was still holding Ariana. “I’m going to wake Ariana up,” Kyle stated. But before he could walk over to her, Kalibar heard shouting behind them, and turned to see his Runics backing away, their killerpillar weapons raised. He looked beyond his Runics, seeing an old man limping toward them. The man looked ancient, his spine bent in a near-hunchback, his pale, wrinkled skin covered in a thin beige robe. He carried a cane, leaning on it heavily as he made his way slowly toward them.
“Who is that?” Kalibar asked Owens. The Weaver shook his head.
“I don't know,” he answered. “Stay here.”
Owens strode toward the old man, gravity shields appearing around the Weaver.
“Stop,” he ordered. “Identify yourself.” The Runics aimed their killerpillar crossbows at the old man, who stopped, craning his neck to gaze upon Owens. His dry lips parted into a hideous smile, exposing rotted stumps of what used to be teeth. He let go of his cane, which stayed upright, and clapped his hands slowly.
“Well done,” he declared, ignoring Owens and facing Kalibar. “I'm impressed.”
“Who are you?” Kalibar demanded. The old man sighed, resting both hands back on his cane.
“That,” he answered, “...is complicated.”
“Identify yourself,” Owens commanded, “...or suffer the consequences.”
The old man raised one eyebrow, regarding Owens with a critical eye.
“Now now,” he stated, “...show some respect for your elders, Owens.” Master Owens frowned.
“How...”
“Do I know your name?” the wretch interjected. He smirked. “You'll find there is little I don't know,” he continued. “Or maybe you won't. It all depends on you,” he added, pointing one gnarled finger at Kalibar.
“Are you with Xanos?” Owens pressed. The old man sighed.
“Always asking the wrong questions,” he lamented. “You should pay more attention.”
“What do you mean?” Kalibar interjected. “What depends on me?”
“Your fate,” the old man answered.
Kalibar stared at him, the strategic part of his mind automatically assessing the situation. Despite numerous deadly weapons aimed directly at him, the old man had no gravity shields protecting him. Indeed, there was only a faint glow of magic around the man. Which meant that he was a Weaver or Runic, but not extraordinarily gifted in magic production. Yet he showed absolutely no fear, despite facing some of the most gifted Weavers in the world.
Which means he's a fool, Kalibar concluded. Or very, very dangerous.
“Can you elaborate?” he asked.
“My Empire is at the brink of a revolution,” the wretch declared. Goran's eyes widened at that.
“Your Empire?”
“You will lead the way to a level of progress unprecedented in human history, Kalibar,” the old man continued, ignoring the Councilman. “This is my gift to you. This will be your great legacy...what countless future generations will remember you for.”
“You're Xanos,” Kalibar deduced. The old man chuckled.
“Which Xanos?” he asked. “The 'god' worshiped by mindless religious fanatics? No. Any leader would recognize that as propaganda.” He smirked. “Useful propaganda, mind you.”
“So Xanos isn't real?” Kalibar pressed.
“You weren't listening,” the old man chided. “Xanos the god is an illusion. Xanos itself is very real.”
“I don't understand.”
“You don't need to,” the wretch replied. “As I said, you will lead the revolution.” He smiled grotesquely. “I want it to be you,” he added. “You're a man of great principle, Kalibar...in fact, you remind me of myself when I was your age.”
“And if I refuse?” Kalibar pressed. The old man sighed, then reached into a pocket in his tattered cloak, retrieving a long, tapered green crystal. Kalibar's breath caught in his throat.
“You'll do it anyway,” the old man replied.
Kalibar froze, staring at the crystal, at its glittering facets. Imagined it sinking through his skull, piercing his brain.
“Wrong answer,” Kalibar stated. “Kill him.”
The Runics fired their killerpillar weapons at the old man. Or rather, beams of bright blue light shot from each weapon – and from each Runic, and from Owens – toward the old man's body. Owens' gravity shields vanished instantly.
The old man stood there unharmed, shaking his head.
“Clever,” he murmured. “Reverse-engineering the killerpillar's abilities. Tell me...how did you do it?”
Kalibar stared at the old man, swallowing in a dry throat. There was no magic radiating from any of the Runics anymore, or from Owens. None at all. And yet the faint blue glow around the old man hadn't brightened.
“How are you doing this?” Kalibar asked, taking a step back. The old man raised an eyebrow at him.
“How did you get your eyes back?” he countered. “Who killed so many of my Chosen?” When Kalibar didn't respond, the old man gestured at Ariana. “Who created that little masterpiece?”
Kalibar took another step back, glancing at Ariana.
“Tell you what,” the wretch continued. “I'll make you a deal. You tell me who did all these wonderful things, and I won't kill your children.”
“You wouldn't,” Kalibar retorted, stepping between Kyle and the old man. The old man rolled his eyes, gesturing at the devastation around him...and the burning Southwest Quarter in the distance.
“Really?”
“Don't do this,” Kalibar urged.
“You know my terms,” the old man shot back. “Give me a name.”
“I don't know who...”
“Well that's a shame,” the wretch interrupted. He raised the butt of his cane at Ariana. “I'll take her first.”
“No!”
A gravity sphere appeared around Ariana, shoving Goran backward onto the ground. She levitated in mid-air in the center of the sphere, still unconscious.
“As I recall,” the old man murmured, “...this little bird doesn't like fire.” He gave a crooked smile. “I do think she should be awake for this, don't you?”
“Wait!” Kalibar pleaded. “I think I know who it is!” The old man cocked his head to
one side.
“I'm listening.”
Kalibar took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly.
“I believe the man who helped me,” he stated, “...who helped Ariana,” he added. “...is Ampir.”
Kalibar felt Kyle tense up behind him, heard the boy gasp. The old man glanced at the boy, then back at Kalibar, his expression unchanged.
Then he lowered his cane.
“Ampir,” he murmured.
“Yes,” Kalibar replied. “I think...” he began to add, but the old man raised one hand to stop him. A chuckle escaped his lips, sounding more like a death rattle than anything else.
“Ampir,” he repeated, chuckling again. He shook his head. “The Ampir, I presume.”
“Yes.”
“I do believe,” the old man stated, “...that you are correct.” He gave a horrid smirk. “In fact, I believe I met him recently.” He shook his head again. “Always was remarkably clever, that one. I knew I recognized him from somewhere.”
Kalibar glanced at Owens, who shrugged. The old man raised an eyebrow.
“You don't know, do you?” he mused. “The gods take strange forms when they walk among us, eh? I suppose I'm no different.”
“What do you mean?” Kalibar asked.
“Never mind,” the old man replied. “Well then,” he continued, lowering his gaze to the ground and tapping the butt of his cane on the ground. “This changes things a bit, I think.”
“My children...” Kalibar began.
“Yes, yes,” the old man muttered, waving one hand dismissively. The gravity sphere around Ariana vanished, dropping her to the ground with a dull thump. He paused, then turned away from Kalibar, facing the fallen Behemoth. A massive translucent blue dome appeared around it.
Then it exploded.
No sound escaped the dome, the Behemoth vanishing in a dark green haze. After a moment, the dome vanished, leaving nothing but a massive hill of thick dust in its place.
The old man stared at what remained of the Behemoth for a moment, then rose up from the ground, levitating a few feet above it.
