by Hanna Peach
Michael sneered. “And the prodigal Rogue, Jordan. Always have to be the hero. I thought I recognized that air of righteousness about you. Too bad you couldn’t save…what was her name? Such a pity. I liked her. She made such pretty noises for me.”
Alyx could see the muscles tensing in Jordan’s jaw. She prepared herself in case she had to hold him back from strangling this truly awful seraph.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jordan said, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, although he couldn’t completely hide the quiver of anger in his voice. “How do we open the shields containing Mayrekk’s prisoner’s apex?”
A look of amusement spread across Michael’s face. “You’d risk your life for that old fool? And here I thought you were smarter than that.”
“You’re not in a position where you should be baiting us,” Alyx snapped. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
Michael began to laugh. The sound was like a flame to her blood causing it to boil over. She dodged Jordan and launched at Michael, unsheathing her blade as she bent over him. She leaned her dagger across his neck, cutting off his laughter.
“You are one wrong breath away from finding out what happens when we die, Elder,” she spat. “Now, open up the shield and I might let you live.”
Michael stiffened under her blade. “If you kill me then you’ll never get inside the shield.”
“You’re right, we can’t kill you.” Alyx dropped her blade to his crotch. His eyes widened as he followed her blade down. “Wanna test whether our healing powers will let you grow this back?”
“Fine,” he hissed. “I’ll open the damned case.” He looked over to the wall. “You need to carry me to it.”
Alyx raised an eyebrow.
“Or you could let me walk.”
“Ha. Fat chance.” Alyx narrowed her eyes at him. “This had better not be some sort of trick.”
Michael smirked. “Would I do that to you?”
Alyx gave him a vicious grin and grabbed a handful of his pant cloth in her fist.
“W-what are you doing?”
Alyx enjoyed hearing the shake of fear in his voice.
Slowly and deliberately, she sliced the fistful of cloth away, leaving a hole in his pants. Lifting up her hand she showed him the severed cloth. Then she shoved the cloth in this mouth making him gag, a promise of what she’d do to him if he were lying.
“Of course you wouldn’t try anything. Not if you know what’s good for you.”
He spat the cloth out from his mouth and looked to be straining to hold himself back from yelling. “Just move me to the damn shield.”
Jordan dragged Michael’s limp body before the shelf containing the precious items and held him up.
“Now you’ll need to get the keye from my neck.”
Alyx found the chain and yanked the keye from him. He hissed when part of the chain caught on some of his hair, ripping it out. She ignored him and thrust the keye at the shield. Nothing happened.
Alyx turned to Michael, snarling. “You lied.”
“The keye is voice activated but it only responds to my voice.”
Jordan hoisted Michael up by his shirt and shoved him at the shelf. His face collided with the shield with a satisfying thud.
Alyx held the keye up to the shield. “Go on then.”
Michael mumbled something that Alyx couldn’t quite catch. Nothing appeared to have happened. He mumbled something more. The keye glowed in her hands. The shield dissolved and Michael’s face fell forward into the space. Jordan pulled him back and let him slip to the floor.
As Alyx began to collect the objects from the shelf, Jordan flew up to the tree-like structure and looked to be studying it. Raphael’s charm went around her neck first, then Elijah’s pick and the Saint’s bracelet around her wrist, Jordan’s lion’s head ring on her finger and finally she closed Mayrekk’s prisoner’s apex around her calf and tucked it into her boot.
She spun and moved so she was standing over Michael’s head. He was glaring at her with blatant hate in his eyes. She unsheathed her dagger and nudged the tip of the blade under his chin.
“Would love to stay and draw out your death, but I’m afraid we’re just going to have to do it and run.”
Michael scoffed. “You’re a fool if you think you’re getting out of here alive. It’s only a matter of moments, my dear.”
Alyx frowned. Matter of moments?
“Oh my God, Alyx. You need to see this,” Jordan called from high among the structure’s branches.
She was about to reply when she thought she heard a faint noise coming from behind the mirage wall where they had entered. Jordan’s head cocked. He heard it as well.
“We have to get out of here,” she yelled.
“There must be a back way where Michael came in.”
Jordan flew down towards the far wall. Alyx grabbed Michael and yanked him to sitting so she could grab him from behind.
“You are coming with us.” Then to Jordan she called, “Have you found the other exit?”
“I didn’t. But they did.”
They? Alyx’s head snapped up.
Jordan was backing up towards her as several masked warriors began to spill into the room through both mirage walls. Alyx cursed. Michael must have tripped some sort of silent alarm when he activated the shield. No tricks, my ass.
“I will make you hurt for this,” she growled in Michael’s ear. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll kill him, I swear it,” Alyx cried, tightening her grip on Michael and with her other hand holding her blade to his neck. Jordan was now at her side, his weapons unsheathed.
One of the warriors, presumably the leader, held out an arm to the other guards. “Hold it.” The warriors from both sides of the room paused, four in total. The leader looked to Michael as if for instruction.
“You have nowhere to run, Alyx,” Michael snarled. “Give yourselves up now and I promise I will make your death quick.”
Her heart felt like it was beating in her throat, choking her. She glanced at Jordan. His profile was grim.
“Drop your weapons and kick them over to us,” Alyx yelled at the warriors. “Do it now or your Elder gets his throat cut.”
The warriors hesitated. The head warrior looked to Michael.
“Tell them to do it or by God I will cut you in ways that you won’t ever recover from,” Alyx hissed in Michael’s ear. She let her blade skim a small shallow cut at his Adam’s apple to make a point.
Michael grimaced and cursed her. “Do as she says,” he called out to the warriors. After a moment’s pause, the chamber filled with the clanking of dropped weapons, then clattering as they were kicked forward, creating an offering of steel before Alyx, Jordan and Michael.
“All of them,” yelled Alyx. There was the sound of more blades being unsheathed and kicked across the floor.
“All those weapons and no way to wield them all,” Michael taunted.
“Shut up,” she said. Then she yelled to the warriors, “Stand with your hands up against the center structure and your backs to us.” There was another pause. “Do it goddammit!” She made another small slice at Michael’s neck. The warriors began to move slowly towards the tree-structure’s trunk.
“Jordan,” she whispered, “can you knock them all out with DreamWalker?”
He shook his head. “I’m still recovering from earlier and they’ll have their defenses up too quickly.”
Alyx chewed at her lip. Think, think. “The DreamWalker daggers.”
Understanding appeared in Jordan’s eyes and he nodded. As quietly as he could, he sheathed his sword and dagger. He moved behind Alyx and slid both his hands along her skirt, trying to find the splits. Alyx had to fight from shuddering against the rush of tingles as his palms found her bare thighs and ran down the sides of her legs to her boots. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was enjoying this. He pulled out the two knives from her boot then the two from his boot followed.
Jordan stepped aside. Th
ere were four whirling noises as Jordan’s hands moved with lightning speed. Four grunts of pain as each knife embedded in the backs of each of the warriors. Blue DreamWalker electricity crackled across their bodies as they dropped to their knees and collapsed on the floor in four black heaps.
“Let’s go,” Jordan said as he moved towards the discarded weapons. “Bring him in case there are any more.”
“You,” Alyx said to Michael, “are lucky we still need you.” She got a better grip on him under his arm and flew them both to the mirage wall they had entered through. She moved through the mirage wall cautiously in case there were any warriors hiding in the tunnels. But the tunnels appeared to be clear. At the end of the tunnel the stone wall stood, a silent barrier to their freedom.
When she got close enough, green sparks flew from Elijah’s pick at her wrist. Thank God his pick was strong enough to get through this shield. Alyx sent a small thanks up to Elijah, wherever he may be. The stone wall swept away to reveal the forest beyond. Fresh air had never smelled so sweet.
The forest seemed still, just as they had left it, but she kept her eyes out for more warriors. She shoved Michael through the exit and held it open for Jordan, who followed holding an armful of steel.
Alyx raised an eyebrow at him. “You couldn’t decide which one to take so you took them all? Remind me never to go shopping with you.”
He grinned. “Thought I’d hide them somewhere, so when our friends wake up, it’ll cost them time hunting for their steel.”
She nodded. Anything to slow them down.
“Now just kill him and let’s go,” he said, eyeing Michael. “We can’t keep carting him around.”
She let the chamber shield shut behind her as Jordan went to hide the blades behind some bushes.
Michael was now a little way off, having dragged himself away from her with his arms, his legs still lying limp behind him. Jordan’s DreamWalker influence was wearing off. She strode to his side and kicked him onto his back.
“I hope you’re not going to beg for your life,” she said as she bent down to Michael and dragged the tip of her blade across his face. “Begging is just so passé.”
Michael laughed. “You know, you would have made a wonderful addition to my dark army…so violent and sadistic. So much potential.”
“Shut up.” Alyx felt her skin crawling. He was lying. She was none of those things. But there was a nagging feeling growing inside her.
“You deny that you enjoy violence? You are about to kill me, aren’t you?”
“No. I…”
“Yessss,” Michael hissed low enough so only Alyx could hear him, “why would you kill if you didn’t enjoy it. I hope you take great pleasure in my death.”
“Jesus,” cried Jordan as he returned into sight. “Alyx, don’t listen to him. Just do it.”
Jordan’s voice solidified her resolve. Michael was evil. He deserved to die.
“This is for killing my parents and for what you did to Lylianne and Mini and Mayrekk, you evil son of a bitch.”
“So you have made yourself my judge and executioner, have you? We are more alike than you think.”
“I am nothing like you. I hope you rot in Hell.” She raised her arm, but she noticed her fingers were trembling. She paused when she saw the glint of fear in his eyes. Judge. Executioner. Violent. Sadistic. She shoved these thoughts away, but they had already dug in like splinters.
She slammed down the blade into his chest all the way to the hilt. His eyes froze open, their stare remaining on her face. Alyx could see the wet stain growing across the material of his shirt, but she couldn’t bear to look at it. He was wrong. She hadn’t enjoyed that.
She registered the noise of shield retracting too late. Then the sing of metal through air. She felt the sting of a knife in her back. She launched unsteadily to her feet. A single warrior had appeared from the reopened exit of the Eden chamber. This knife must have been a hidden blade. Warriors always carried hidden blades.
“Elder!” the warrior cried as he noticed Michael’s fallen body with the dagger rising from his torso. He turned his eyes to Alyx. “You monster.”
His words, shuddering with so much disbelief and horror, hit her like a cannonball to her chest. Her, a monster? He was knocked aside by Jordan and they tumbled on the ground until Jordan was able to knock him out with DreamWalker.
Alyx stumbled forward, reaching for the knife at her back, wincing as she pulled it out. She focused all her energy on healing it.
“Are you okay?” Jordan asked as he moved to her side.
She nodded. “I’m going to need the biggest steak outside of Argentina after we’re done here.”
“Argentina?”
“Flew some night races there. They know how to do steaks.” Alyx eyed the gaping black exit. But that warrior seemed to be the only one who had woken. “How did he even wake?”
“I suspect that warrior got the mostly-drained knife that you hit Michael’s palm with. Damn. I didn’t even think about that until now. The others should hold for a while longer but I don’t want to test that theory by sticking around.”
Alyx nodded and accepted Jordan’s arm around her waist to support her. They began to move through the forest towards Mayrekk’s hut. She felt drained, but there was still so much to do before she could rest properly. But at least this thing with Michael was over. Thank God there was one conclusion, one thing less to worry about.
“Hey,” she said to Jordan, “what was it you found in the chamber that you wanted me to see?”
Jordan opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t get a chance.
“I’ll see you very soon, my pretty.”
The voice, drifting to her from behind, caused Alyx’s blood to run cold. No, it couldn’t be. She spun around.
Michael was sitting up, gripping her dagger that stuck out of his chest by the handle. No. Her mind refused to accept what she was seeing. Impossible. He should be dead.
“Handy, that Alchemist magic.” He pulled the handle from his chest, and as he did, the liquid across his chest was drawn into the handle and turned back into steel, reforming the blade. It had been liquid metal, not blood that had soaked his dark shirt. If only she had looked more carefully.
“No!” She launched at him but stumbled back as Jordan gripped her and tried to drag her away.
“Alyx, let it go for now. We have to go.”
“No,” she cried as the realization crushed her chest. It wasn’t over. Michael wasn’t dead.
“A tip,” Michael said. He threw the dagger without warning. It lodged into her side. “Next time you want to kill someone, cut out the sob speech beforehand. You’re just giving them time to figure out a way not to die. Besides, they probably already know why you want them dead.” He motioned with his hand towards the dagger stuck in her side. “Like so. Don’t feel so bad. You would have missed anyway. Sometimes having your heart on the wrong side of your body can be useful.”
The air crackled with DreamWalker as Jordan and Michael pelted magic at each other. Alyx’s hand shook as she yanked the blade out of her ribs with a sucking noise. She dropped the dagger and pressed her hands to her wound, sending all of her energy towards it to heal it. She could hear herself wheezing, and the moisture in her mouth tasted like blood. Lung wound. Next worse injury behind a knife to the heart. Oh, and a severed head. Couldn’t recover from a severed head either.
Jordan seemed to be winning, probably because Michael was still partially incapacitated with DreamWalker. The pain from the healing she was doing and the blood loss made her woozy. She collapsed to the ground and curled into a ball, everything still focused on healing that wound. She was vaguely aware that Jordan was calling her name. Then the air lost its heat as the magic stopped. She felt herself being hoisted up in Jordan’s arms and saw the blurred rush of canopy over her.
Chapter 17
If he could sweat in this place, he would be sweating.
Israel’s hand shook as he aimed his palm towa
rds the pile of feathers at his feet. In front of him, it looked like a large hall. The walls soared to a ceiling that was so high, he could swear there were clouds forming. There were no lights, but somehow this room was lit as if the air itself was filled with light. Across the black and white marble-tiled floor there were several white pedestals like the ones that would hold artifacts in museums, except these were empty.
Somewhere in his head he knew this wasn’t real, that he and the Elder were just in a kind of DreamScape, but…it felt real. Every strain, every effort, every sliver of anger felt real. He tried to ignore his frustration as he pushed out from his hands. Once again the feathers launched in a puff as if a great wind had blown them and they flew around the room like scared moths.
Not a single one landed on a pedestal. He had failed. Again.
He waited for a grunt of disapproval from the Elder behind him but heard nothing. If anything, the Elder’s silence frustrated him more.
As these feathers landed on the tiles they disappeared like melting snow. Israel glanced down at his feet again. Sure enough, the feathered pile had been replenished by the Elder. It was the Elder’s silent but firm way of saying, “Again.” Israel couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. How long would he have to keep doing this pointless exercise?
Israel aimed his palm towards the feathered pile again and pushed. His frustration was harder to contain this time. The feathers scattered with even more violence.
“Perhaps we should try something different,” he heard the Elder say.
Finally.
All the feathers and pedestals faded. Except for a single feather and a single pedestal. Israel felt his heart sinking.
“All I want you to do is to place that feather—”
“On the forsaken pedestal. Yeh, yeh, I get it.” He knew he was being snarky, but he couldn’t help it. He had been hopeful that they would get rid of all those damned feathers and he’d get to play with something sharp and pointy. He understood sharp and pointy. He didn’t understand what the hell feathers had to do with saving anyone or anything.
Israel glared at the single feather sitting benignly on a black tile. It mocked him, a soft, silent representation of all his failed attempts in this training session. He withheld the grumble that pushed to escape from his throat and lifted his hand towards the feather. He threw out a pulse. The feather jumped and flicked around erratically in the air.
