Cursed Earth (Kat Drummond Book 12)

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  “Dominance,” the Necro Lord announced, before slashing again. I dodged, and tried to counter-attack, but was put on guard again as he bit back at me with his blade. He was fast! Faster than I was in my current state.

  “Supremacy,” he continued.

  He uttered a short phrase and I barely managed to dodge the blast of black energy. I kicked out towards him, sending him back.

  He grinned, madly.

  “Power is the only truth in this world, Drummond! And I am more powerful than you. Than anyone!”

  “Hubris,” I managed to pant out. “Looks bad on you.”

  I threw my dagger forward, hitting him in the leg. He winced and stumbled, giving me space to charge him. I chopped down on him, brutally. He caught my blow and parried it, nicking my cheek with a counterattack.

  He pulled out the dagger and tossed it aside. I used the opportunity to duck low, slashing at his legs. He jumped up, thrusting towards me.

  My coat flared up, stunning him as I drove Ithalen into his heart.

  No…I missed. My blade bounced off his shoulder armour, ripping at his robe.

  “You know the problem with my old master…” he said, releasing a whirlwind of attacks towards me.

  I could not counter-attack. I backed away, slowly, blocking each blow. A few cut me, leaving shallow wounds. My coat burned in response. Impotently.

  “She was just a mage. She needed a knight to defend her.”

  His attacks relented and I dove forward. He jumped to the side, as Ithalen dug into the floor. I felt a sharp pain as he kicked me. I lost my footing and fell prone, hitting the steel.

  “Your Candace needed a warrior to defend her. But I don’t. I am mage and fighter. The ultimate ruler. Power incarnate.”

  He uttered an acidic phrase and my body was wracked with pain. My vision blurred.

  I turned to face him, lying on my back. I pulled Voidshot and fired, missing. He slashed at my hand, cutting it and letting my gun fall limply, still attached to me by its chain but just out of my grasp.

  I couldn’t move as he sent pure pain through me again. And again.

  “How does it feel, Drummond,” he finally said, letting the spell-pain stop. “To watch all your friends di…”

  His words were cut short, as a blade protruded through his head. A golden light formed behind him, as he dropped.

  A lanky woman with a bone-handle naginata stood behind him.

  “Heather…” I gasped.

  She hoisted the naginata and, with its thick blade, beheaded the Necro Lord, letting his head fly off into the abyss.

  As its master died, the golem began to crumble. Pieces fell off and cascaded with deafening booms to the ground. Ismail appeared, putting his one arm around Heather. He reached his hand out towards me. I reached back, just as the floor caved in beneath me.

  I fell, rocketing to the ground. I felt Treth’s terror as he came to his senses. Corpses, blood, debris and the Necro Lord’s body fell with me.

  I closed my eyes.

  And felt a new voice inside my head.

  “Vessel…Kat. I can no longer defend the realms.”

  Ariel’s voice didn’t sound sad. There was pride in it. Finality.

  “But you can.”

  Heat erupted from my back, as I opened my eyes. Flames wreathed me, and I looked up, as a pair of flaming angel wings erupted from my back.

  “Thank you, Last Light,” Ariel said, as she faded into the Vessel, among the rest of the voices. They were still there.

  I let the holy heat engulf me, as I turned head-first towards the ground, and flared my wings, catching the air and gliding, landing among my stunned comrades, as the sun began to rise.

  ***GUY***

  I pulled a zombie’s corpse off another as I pushed through remains of enemies, victims and allies, trying to find survivors. You’d be surprised how many we had found still breathing underneath the dog-piles of undead.

  Brett used a sledgehammer as leverage, lifting the corpse of an abomination, checking for enemies to put down and survivors to rescue. He found none and let it drop.

  “It seems like a dream,” Brett said.

  I grunted in reply. More like a nightmare.

  “But we’re finding more and more survivors,” Brett continued.

  “And more dead,” I replied. Brett frowned.

  So many had died. But, that was to be expected. I mourned for them. But those closest to me had survived. That was a small mercy I’d accept.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Brett said, pointing towards a rising plume of steam and smoke coming from a pile of corpses.

  We shared a look and then jogged to the plume. Puretide agents were collecting their dead. Someone had found flowers, and put them on Edward’s body, as he clutched his axe.

  He was a good man. Probably too good for this line of work. A small part of me felt sadness that I had not gotten the opportunity to fight alongside him sooner.

  Brett and I arrived alongside the plume of smoke. Its source was an armless and legless vampire, blistering in the sun. But its red eyes and convulsing revealed that it was still very much alive.

  It stared at us, and then laughed. A raspy, sickening sound.

  “The Children are coming! The Blood shall have vengeance. And we all know your faces. There is no hiding now, Blood Hunter!”

  I felt heat on my back. Kat appeared, flaming angel wings protruding from behind her.

  I wasn’t even surprised! It would be unusual for Kat to not be doing the impossible.

  Kat stared into the eyes of the vampire, a sneer on her lips.

  “We’ll be waiting, blood-sucker. And we’ll slay you all.”

  Without even putting the vamp out of his misery, she spun around and flew off.

  I shared a look with Brett. He looked confused. Questioning.

  “What you looking at me for? She’s your girlfriend!”

  Brett’s mouth slowly curved into a smile. I couldn’t help but return it.

  For all we had lost, and for all that was coming, we had survived. We had won.

  And we’d win again.

  Chapter 26.

  Loss

  “Fire may burn out. And the strongest, brightest flame may burn out before any other. But, before it does, it can light up an entire world,” Guy spoke solemnly, as rain softly fell on our heads.

  “But, even as the fire dwindles, its light can remain. In those whose warmth it left behind…”

  Guy went silent and backed away from the grave.

  Hammond York.

  The Brightest Flame.

  Heather stood still. Silent. She was no longer crying. No shivering. No sobbing. Just…quiet.

  Cindy grasped Guy’s hand and whispered to him. I saw their hands squeeze, and felt Brett squeeze mine.

  I heard sobbing all around us. Across the fields, at every grave of varying shape. Every single one had served and died at the battle against the Necro Lord. We didn’t have a name for it yet. It was just “The Battle”. We’d leave it to some journalist or historian to give it a name. Probably something simple, belying the ferocity and loss of it, like the Battle of Observatory.

  I peered out across the rolling fields. I owned it. Technically. The rabbis had paid. Tenfold. They appreciated the shem being returned to them. And I’d used a chunk of the reward to buy this land. For the fallen.

  A procession of white-clad Puretide agents lined up by a simple grave. They each placed a flower on the grave and left.

  Edward had been a good man in the end. And perhaps, always. What I had once seen as greed and cowardice, had been love.

  And it was that love that killed him and saved me.

  One of the flowers on his grave was from me.

  The Puretide agents seemed lost. Their numbers had dwindled fast. Without their commander, they were basically orphaned. But that wouldn’t be for long.

  The Crusaders always had open doors for strays and heroes needing a home.

  I took a step
forward towards Heather. Treth watched, sombrely. He didn’t speak about his outburst and rage at thinking he’d lost Gorgo again. And I didn’t press.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, quietly and stupidly.

  “No,” she whispered back, honestly.

  I stared at Hammond’s grave. It didn’t seem real.

  You were meant to always be there, I wanted to say. Making sure I never grew too big for my boots.

  “It will never really get better,” I said. “But you will get used to it.”

  I squeezed her shoulder. She remained still.

  “I thought the revenge…would have made it hurt less,” she uttered, sounding disbelieving herself. She didn’t sob, but I could sense the deep sadness in her voice.

  “The hurt will fade. You’ll get used to it. Revenge…it doesn’t save us. Love saves us. And you will always have a place with us.”

  Heather stayed still, for just a few seconds, before putting her arm around me. I embraced her and squeezed. I felt tears fall onto my head.

  Neither of us said a word.

  Finally, Heather released me and turned back to the grave. She said she wanted to just stand there for a bit longer.

  I gave her space.

  There were CDF graves in the graveyard. The surviving soldiers requested that their comrades be buried alongside the hunters. It was the least I could do. There was word that they were to be posthumously court-martialled.

  Riaan hadn’t contacted me. No arrest warrants. No threats. But, even if he had decided to come after me, what army would he use? All the troops not rebuffing a recent attack on the Three Point Line were either dead or on my side.

  But, I couldn’t pretend that the Chairman was toothless. I had burnt my bridges with him. Not that I think it was my fault. Life just had a way of pushing people into opposite corners. I didn’t think Riaan was a bad person. But he was misguided. Unfortunately, ignorance could be more destructive than evil.

  With the Izingane Zegazi coming, for certain, and the Chairman putting a target on my back, things were only going to get harder…

  But there was a new light inside of me now. Ariel had never been evil. Her coldness had been a façade. Her only sin had been caring too much. And, at the end, she had fought defending goodness. And now she existed within the Vessel. I still needed to get used to my wings. I didn’t know if I could make them appear at will or not. But if I could, that would be a neat trick.

  I hoped she didn’t mind that I returned the shem to the rabbis. We needed it. War was always here. And we needed all the help we could get.

  Up the graveyard path, Conrad and Ismail both stood. Waiting. Conrad was back in his salesman get-up, hands in his pockets. Cindy had told me that he’d defended the HQ against a vampire assassin that had slinked into the hospital. Not that you’d believe that story when you saw him. Conrad excelled at looking harmless.

  Ismail…he was still in his angel form. Perfect skin, glowing and resonating pure beauty. Yet, he still wore his stitched chinos and tweed jacket.

  He smiled, cheerlessly, at my approach.

  “Zephon…Conrad thought it best I say my goodbyes to you face to face. But I must admit that I do detest farewells.”

  “What? You’re leaving?”

  Ismail nodded, sadly. “I must. Someone has to tell our superiors what has happened. Trust me, you don’t want a squad of angry Seraphim to come searching for Ariel. They are less understanding than I am.”

  I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I rushed Ismail, putting my arms around him. He patted my head.

  “We will see each other again, Last…Kat.”

  I released him and he looked up, towards the city.

  “I’ve grown to love this city. I will be returning to see it again.”

  He looked at me one final time, smiled, and shot up into the sky, disappearing like a shooting star.

  “Will he be coming back?” I asked Conrad. “Or are you the only angel left in my life?”

  He snorted. “I’m the only angel you need. But it seems you have one closer to home now.”

  He nodded towards something behind me.

  “Ariel found herself near the end. I think that was worth her sacrifice.”

  I didn’t truly understand what Conrad meant by that. I bid him farewell and slowly made my way towards the parking lot, and Brett’s van.

  I wanted to sleep. Before the next apocalypse.

  Brett leant up against his van, putting out a cigarette as I approached.

  “Heather said she wants to wait awhile longer,” he said. “I’ll pick her up and take her home after I get you home.”

  I smiled in thanks and got in the van. Brett pulled out of the parking lot, giving us a good view of the graveyard. Rows and rows of stones. Some with ashes, some with bodies. All who laid down their life to defend the light.

  I saw Table Mountain, Adamastor’s tomb, lying on the horizon, looming over Hope City.

  The Empire, the Conclave, Goldfield, vampires…all of them, wanted Hope City so they could control the Titan’s power.

  All this loss, just for a damn weyline.

  Brett saw where I was looking.

  “I hope Adamastor is having bad dreams,” he muttered, and we drove off.

  ***

  I woke up outside our apartment. Mercifully, it hadn’t been damaged. We just had to clear out a few undead stragglers and some corpses after the battle. I still kept Alex at Cindy’s – just in case there was a rogue zom lurking somewhere. I’d feel safe enough bringing him home after I’d done a full patrol.

  I yawned as Brett stopped.

  “Should I walk you up?” he offered.

  I waved aside the offer. I needed time to think. And I didn’t like the thought of leaving alone Heather out in the rain.

  “I’m good. Go check on Heather, please.”

  He nodded and kissed me. I waited until he was around the corner before scaling the steps to my apartment. I really needed to get them to fix the elevator.

  “Time for a rest,” Treth said.

  “I hope.”

  “I think we deserve it.”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  I approached my apartment door and retrieved the keys, unlocking it. The apartment smelled like cleaning fluid. Some zoms had gotten this high up, checking for snacks. Took a lot to get necroblood out.

  It felt good to be home. Just me and Treth. Like old times.

  I expected to feel relief as I entered. But something felt off. I looked around. Nothing was out of place. But something just felt wrong…

  I put my hand out and Treth dropped Ithalen into it. I stalked further into my apartment, and then stopped. Stunned. All breath escaped me.

  Sitting on an armchair in my lounge, wearing a black business suit, was a man with black, short hair, pale skin and piercing, predatory eyes.

  He looked exactly the same as he did when he killed my parents.

  He brought his hands together into a slow clap as he rose nonchalantly. A smile split his face.

  “I must congratulate you, Katherine, on your gains of late. You are much less disappointing than my other project. Evergreen…”

  Treth moved before I could. He felt my rage. My fear. And he knew who this was even without seeing him before.

  He charged, drawing his own spectral sword, and driving it towards the Mentor.

  And then stopped.

  All thought of charging the man who’d taken everything from me perished, as he held my ghostly companion by the throat, still smiling.

  Treth clawed at his neck, to no avail.

  I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Fire may burn out. And the strongest, brightest flame may burn out before any other. But, before it does, it can light up an entire world,” he recited, exactly as Guy had.

  He squeezed harder. I managed to take a step forward. But even my coat had burnt out. Ithalen fell from my fingertips.

  “But, even as the fire dwindles, its light can
remain. In those whose warmth it left behind…” he continued, and then looked at me. “But the darkness eventually engulfs all.”

  He had been there. At the graveyard. I didn’t know how. But all I knew was he was hurting Treth. My friend…

  Rage overwhelmed the coldness that had enveloped me. I drew my knife and charged, before falling backwards as he held up a hand towards me. He hadn’t even uttered a spell.

  His grip on Treth’s neck tightened.

  “Oh, Katherine! You should know better than most that the dead can die again. And our fight isn’t due yet. I just wanted to check in. To let you know that I’m still watching. That I care. And our time will come.”

  His smile sobered, as he dropped Treth to the floor. He lay prostrate. Unbreathing.

  “First, you have some vampires to slay.”

  He turned his back to me, waved two fingers at me by way of farewell, and stepped into nothingness.

  He was gone.

  Treth didn’t move. I rushed to his side, trying to feel for a pulse, but remembered that he was already dead.

  I pulled his head onto my lap, letting tears fall through his translucence.

  “Don’t leave me…” I sobbed.

  Of everyone…I couldn’t lose Treth. Ever.

  “I never answered you,” I continued, my voice soft. “About if I regretted this. I’ve got an answer. I don’t. I’ve never regretted meeting you. And I’ve never regretted this life. I slay monsters, Treth. I defeat evil. But only with you by my side. So please…don’t die.”

  I closed my eyes, as he lay still, and put my head on his ghostly chest. I didn’t hear a heartbeat. I sobbed, letting tears fall, until I felt a warm hand on my back.

  “I can’t die, Kat,” Treth said, almost wheezing. “I’m already dead.”

  I sat upright, staring into my friend’s eyes. I hugged him, tightly.

  The Mentor’s presence in my home could wait. The Izingane Zegazi could wait.

  What mattered now was my friend, in my arms. And that, through all that had happened, we were still together. Forever.

  ***

  Vampires close in on the Crusaders. The Blood remembers and they will have their revenge. But old friends and enemies may come to the aid of the Crusaders, as the Children of Blood descends on Hope City. Continue the epic saga: https://kat.nicholaswoodesmith.com/reading-order/