Knives in the Night

by Nathan A. Thompson

  Time out. I sighed and closed my eyes. We do not, in fact, desire to get beat up by our romantic interest. That is not something I enjoy experiencing.

  I didn’t say I enjoy them beating me up, Teeth retorted stubbornly. I said I enjoy them being mad at you. Them kicking your butt. She’s going to get along fine with me. Why wouldn’t she? I’m awesome.

  I tuned the asshole out again and turned to my friends. But before I could begin speaking, a final imprint washed over me, one darker and more alien than the other three.

  The mortals had awakened him.

  They should have been more careful.

  He had been perfectly content to sleep and let them all live.

  But now that he was awake, he had demands for them.

  They must suffer.

  They must submit.

  They must worship.

  And this young upstart must yield.

  Immediately.

  The power of the last imprint knocked me backwards. The force of the being was on par with that of the Winter Witch from the Woadlands, or the Nuckelavee from the Sun-Jeweled Seas. Its flavor was a mix of the two, seemingly both a Dark Icon like the Witch and an extraterrestrial invader like the Nuckelavee at the same time.

  That’s not right, Teeth said, uncharacteristic anxiety leaking through as I felt him reel from the being’s power as well. This is something older than both. Something that once battled dragons for dominance… at least its race did… I will try to remember its name.

  Fine, I growled as I straightened back up. The real question is why this asshole already thinks he can just roll out of bed and take us on.

  Damn straight, Teeth growled back.

  I’d have to see what the creature would do. I couldn’t tell precisely where he was, besides being somewhere in the deserts far beyond the established civilizations. And I still had to meet Anahita and come up with a plan for the assholes that were closer.

  However, this being was on par with a number of supposedly unstoppable creatures that I had already eaten for breakfast.

  If he didn’t have any special bullshit-gimmicks to raise his threat level, then I was going to take him with a side of bacon and scrambled eggs.

  CHAPTER 3: BACK-UP DAGGERS

  Davelon’s Perspective

  I watched the hairy creature shift its dented shield as it stepped sideways.

  Stepping gingerly on its right foot, I detected automatically. Shield-bearing shoulder is also twitching slightly, as if in pain.

  The dog-like monster known as a Miscreant had parried every one of my blows on its dark metal shield, but the impact had taken its toll on the monster as it braced. Even though my heavy blade never touched it, I had given its body enough trauma for the muscle damage to linger past the creature’s vital guard. It was maneuvering similar to defensive linemen who had taken too many impacts without a rest.

  But it still had a spear, and I didn’t want to get stabbed. So I did what Wes’ magical talking skeleton said to do in situations like this and feinted to the left.

  When the dog-eared monster stabbed forward, I knocked its spear out wide, then slammed my sword into its shield. This time, its block couldn’t hold. My longsword slid over the barrier and stabbed into the shorter monster’s neck.

  I tore my blade free and danced aside, dodging most of the bloody black droplets as they flew out of the Hordebeast’s ruined throat. As the monster fell gurgling to the forest floor, I swept my eyes around to look for other threats.

  But the rest of our team was doing just as well as I was. Christina had used an Air spell to leap up onto a tree limb and had begun firing arrows into the back of the other Miscreants’ shield wall. The creatures with bows were all killed by Andre’s flying daggers before they could shoot her, and Himari had covered our flanks with her spear to kill any of the monsters that got around me.

  Rachel hung behind all of us, managing the thick fog and sinking earth spells that had trapped all of our enemies in place.

  She released her magic when the last monsters died, giving me a pointed glance. I sighed and called out to the group.

  “Everyone okay?” I fought back a grimace, trying not to sound like the question was pointless. She smiled at me as everyone predictably said yes.

  “Great to hear,” my best friend’s sister said happily. “You never know when you might sustain some kind of injury you don’t feel. Those can haunt you later, so it’s always a good idea to check after a fight.”

  “But don’t we have a vital guard or something to take care of them?” Andre asked awkwardly, before hastily adding, “ma’am.”

  “Do we?” Rachel asked, still smiling. “How long does it last? Is it foolproof, or will certain injuries get through? And can we overtax it without realizing it?”

  “I, um... don’t know,” Andre admitted. “Stell and that skeleton guy said it wasn’t a completely understood thing. Kind of like our own medicine.”

  “Exactly,” Rachel announced sweetly as she swept her hands out, “therefore it makes perfect sense to check anyway. And you don’t have to call me ‘ma’am.’ I’m your age, and Davelon’s the leader anyway. Right, Davelon?”

  “Sure,” I said with a deadpan expression. “That’s absolutely correct, Rachel.”

  “Good,” Wes’ sister declared, “because I would hate being the leader, anyway. And Davelon, we really appreciate your taking the pressure off the rest of us for this. Right, guys?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” everyone said at once, with unmistakable relief.

  Rachel either didn’t notice their suspicious glances, or didn’t care.

  “Christina,” I called out to the trees. “How are Merada’s people doing?”

  “They looked like they’re about finished,” the blonde woman said as she leaned around a branch. “Merada already killed one group, and the other tattooed people are handling the rest pretty well. I don’t see any human or elven bodies on the ground… should we go over and help them?”

  She looked between me and Rachel, clearly not sure who she should address.

  “Yeah, let’s go ahead and form up,” I said, and Rachel beamed a proud, slightly disturbing smile at me. Christina dropped down from the tree as we cautiously stepped through massive trees.

  This had originally been a training mission. The Starsown lady had said that the Woadlands were the one place where Wes had completely driven out all major threats to the population, but there were always a few minor nuisances lurking about. Challengers were never expected to deal with those; in fact, Stell didn’t have the power to summon one from Earth that often, even if she wanted to. That meant the inhabitants usually handled small threats like this themselves, either with local manpower or from traveling heroes seeking a lifetime of Rises.

  Stell had explained that whenever she managed to Call a Challenger with time to spare before the next Tumult, she put them through minor Challenges like these, to help them train and grow stronger.

  So here we were, helping the locals put down a small Hordebeast invasion that had wandered through one of the Pathways and into an ambush Merada’s people had prepared for them some distance away.

  Intercepting them had been pretty routine for the huntress, though. The Woadlands was a pretty isolated world, with only a handful of Pathways leading into it, and Stell’s Satellite body knew all of them. She had apparently also gotten much stronger after working with Wes, according to the locals. Now she automatically knew when an invader was using the Pathways, and was able to reach them quickly through enchanted forest trails that even the Icons hadn’t known about. Every time, she led her group of elves, fairies, and Gaelguard Woadfolk into taking the monsters apart.

  She had agreed to let us help, and had even picked up where Virtus had left off in our training.

  I was happy for her lessons, but after seeing her finish off the rest of the Hordebeasts in a single volley of red-glowing arrows, I began to wonder just how long it would take until our little group of teenagers was strong
enough to be useful for everyone else.

  Despite my private concerns, she seemed impressed enough with us as she came walking over.

  “Already done, are ye?” she asked, clearly speaking to me, but throwing a single wink to Rachel.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied respectfully. “Thanks for leaving us the smaller group to deal with.”

  “Wasn’t that much smaller,” the tattooed brunette countered with a calculating gaze. “And this be far stronger than normal Horde—and better equipped. Looks to me like they came from the Deeps themselves.”

  “And that’s bad?” I asked. I thought it was, but I was taking in a lot of information every single day, and I wanted to make sure I was still following.

  “Not bad that ye killed ‘em,” Merada said with a shrug. “But the place is supposed to be sealed. Not a stretch to see that it’s broken, what with everythin’ else happenin’, but it makes me wonder why they just not be sendin’ these our way.”

  “Aren’t they fighting in a whole bunch of other places?” I asked, taking out a rag to clean my sword and then carefully sheathing it. The back-scabbard clanked awkwardly against my chain mail, and I hoped that Samantha was hurrying up with those magic bags of hers.

  Merada nodded at me as she walked over to a dead Miscreant, toeing the cat-dog-person hybrid with her boot.

  “Aye.” She frowned, her braids hanging over her face as she looked down. “Stell said these have been showin’ up in the Dawnlands and other worlds fer some time. They be part of the reason those worlds be slowly losin’, but I have a hunch that they’re still fightin’ pretty hard. If they had enough of these beasts to spare on me own world now, then either the other worlds be losin’ faster, or they were holdin’ back this whole time.”

  “How many of these things do you think there are?” Rachel asked intently, walking up next to me. I heard quiet shuffling as the rest of my people wordlessly filed back behind us. “Back on their world, I mean.”

  “Personally?” The woad-painted Satellite looked back up at us. “After a near thousand years of havin’ a whole planet to themselves? Enough to have swarmed me own world, along with all the rest. They could have conquered us decades ago, long before our Malcolm showed up and worked his magic. I be thinkin’ ye need to get back to Avalon and share this news with Guineve. I’ll show ye the fastest trail.”

  Chris’ Perspective

  I landed back on Avalon, looking around quickly. No one was immediately in sight, and I had no idea whether or not that was a good thing. Maybe they weren’t expecting me to come back. Maybe they had been guarding the wrong place. Maybe something else had gone wrong, or…

  Calm down. I forced myself to take a deep breath. You’re jumping to conclusions.

  I looked around again. I had arrived in one of the many clearings in Avalon, but I could see the yellow stone wall of Wes’ fancy magical city maybe a hundred yards or so off in the distance.

  I turned to walk toward it, but I quickly realized that I could also see the wall rising up from another direction near me, and that I was actually already inside the protective boundary.

  “Good evening, Chris Rhodes,” Guineve’s frosty voice came from behind me. “I do hope you come with trustworthy intentions.”

  I turned to see the tall, voluptuous woman stepping out from the mist in her revealing white gown.

  “I come in peace,” I said quickly, trying to look at either her eyes or the floor. She was drop-dead gorgeous, but she was also powerful enough to shatter my spine with just a spell and a flick of her wrist.

  And even if she wasn’t, she was interested in my high school nemesis, who somehow had beautiful girls falling all over him in this world for reasons I didn’t know, and would probably be disgusted with if I ever found out.

  “I have to come in peace, because there’s not a scenario where I survive being on the opposing side. Remember?”

  “Oh, I do,” the raven-haired woman answered coolly. “I have all sorts of recent events at the forefront of my mind,” she added, giving me a purposeful look. The image of her panting and battered as she faced down Dad’s boogeyman patron, the monster leering at her just before Wes somehow teleported her to safety with a magic rock, leaped into my own mind, and I suppressed a wince. Not my fault, I reminded myself reflexively, but the pale woman continued. “But it is a relief to hear that your memory still works as well.” Her head suddenly turned sharply to the right, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. Before I could ask what had just happened, she turned her gaze back to me, looking a touch unhappy with whatever had just happened. “Now, you’ve arrived at a rather inconvenient time, but since there’s no one else I trust you alone with, why don’t you come with me for a moment? And walk quickly, please.”

  She turned without saying another word and strode over to a series of stones nearby. They looked like the magic glowing computer-rocks that Dad’s people had failed to activate, before they had given up and just used the devices that the giant alien freak had taught them how to build. She touched a brightly glowing mark on the largest stone and stepped back slightly to let her eyes track the glowing blue script that appeared in front of her.

  “What are you—” I started to say, but she cut me off.

  “Hush.”

  Her voice was flat and dangerous, so I promptly shut the hell up.

  Her dark pupils continued to flicker back and forth for several moments. I watched her posture grow increasingly tense as she read. Eventually, she began mumbling something, and I felt a small trickle of mana flow through the air toward the screen.

  She kept muttering for a whole minute, and a tiny trickle of sweat dripped down her forehead, but then the screen flickered, and she sighed in relief. The next moment, the blue screen disappeared, and she pinned me to the spot with an intense stare.

  “Do not ask questions,” the regal woman growled. “You did not see anything. You did not witness anything. You did not remember or understand anything. If I think any of that has changed, then our deal is off, and I will kill you immediately, in the most psychologically damaging way I can think of, and then do whatever I can to reveal you as a traitor to all parties involved. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said quickly, “except that I have no idea what you’re talking about, because of course, I haven’t seen anything. I just got here. Right this very second. Are you ready for my news?”

  A single dark eyebrow arched up as she considered me.

  “You’re being sincere,” she decided. “Good.”

  The air warmed by an entire tenth of a degree, suggesting that her opinion of me had improved by an equivalent amount.

  As my long-term survival went, it was the best news I had received all week.

  “So, should I share my news now?” I asked carefully, and the unsmiling woman nodded.

  “That would be appropriate, yes.”

  “Okay,” I said, closing my eyes and inhaling as I tried to remember every relevant item in as concise a manner possible. “Back on Earth, the rest of Dad’s organization had begun to suspect that he was not performing his proper role in observing Aegrim’s heirs. So they sent a team to confront him about it, and they attacked us. We fought them off fairly easily, and my father was impressed by my efforts during the altercation, so he has started taking me along on his more important meetings.”

  I took another breath, watching the powerful woman’s face for any reaction. She didn’t give one, except to maintain an attentive, listening expression. Steeling my resolve, I continued.

  “In the last meeting, Father took me and the other higher-ups to a private meeting with a representative from the Lost Deeps. It was something called a Brute, about the size of a Spawn, but more muscular, and it was bull-like instead of horse-like.”

  “What was his name?” she asked me, finally commenting.

  My mind blanked for a terrifying moment. I hadn’t expected that question, and I suddenly realized I very much should have.

  “Um…�
�� I said, shaking my memory around, “Volg. Volg of the…Bloody Sword…and Gore-Crusted Pen…is that a normal name for those creatures?”

  “You are supposed to be providing answers instead of questions,” the mist-clad woman rebuked, but her chastisement lacked heat. “But, no. Brutes are powerful creatures, but only the strongest of them are worthy of earning titles. That honor is usually saved for the highest ranks of Hordebeasts.”

  “There are higher ranks of Hordebeasts?” I asked before I could stop myself. Thankfully, I was able to clamp down on my next question, whether Guineve actually knew a number of Brutes’ names.