Author: Derek

Anne

Odd scents were the first thing Anne comprehended as she regained consciousness. Sandalwood, pine, and a foul musk made a strange mix. The next was that she was restrained. Strangely, though, she wasn’t in as much pain as she should have been. She tentatively moved her head. Nope, no pain, as well as none of the odd dragging from strong pain killers. She opened her eyes and saw Arem’s smiling face mere inches in front of her.

“Relax, Anne,” Arem whispered, “You’re fine. Well, healed at any rate.” He stood up. “I apologize about the restraints, but we both know you’d do something foolish if you were free.” He looked over to someone standing just outside Anne’s view. “Take her downstairs.” Strong, rough hands lifted her up with a surprising gentleness. Arem led them out of the room and onto a metal catwalk above the warehouse floor. As they descended the main staircase, Anne could see six of the man-wolves (well, four man-wolves and two woman-wolves) standing around an altar similar to the one she’d seen at the Martinez murder scene. This one seemed more powerful for some reason. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Anne could see the Avalonians, Jason, and Dale off to the side. Jason and the Avalonians were bound and awake. Dale was lying on the ground and not moving. No, not Dale. His body. Anne blinked back sudden tears. She’d have time to grieve later. Right now, she needed to keep it together long enough to figure how to keep from being sent to the Dark Towers.

“I am sorry about your friend,” Arem said.

“Go to hell,” Anne shot back, fury filling her. Arem ignored her outburst and directed whatever was carrying her to put her down a few feet from the altar. As soon as it backed away, Anne could see it had been an orc.

“Now, Anne, will you come with me back to the Dark Towers before more people have to die?” Arem asked, gently.

“Don’t bother answering, he’s just going to gate you back whether you want to or not,” Erik said. “Why bother with the false politeness, Arem? Why bother with a ritual with these bargainers?”

“As if you’d do any different!” Arem snapped, “The only reason I’ve left you alive Erik is because I want to grind in your failure!”

“He’s lying,” Samantha said, “He can’t gate her without her consent. Or at least, not without the ritual. And we’re still alive because he needs our energy to make the thing work.”

“Witch mind-reader!” Arem said with a sudden coldness, “I’m going to enjoy ripping your power out of you and watching you die a slow horrible death.”

“He’s telling the truth about that,” Samantha said evenly. Arem glared at Samantha as he spoke under his breath.

“So why did he need the werewolves?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know, he’s blocking me now,” Samantha said, smirking at the elf.

“He needs casters from this world to do the ritual,” Veronica said, and then grunted in pain. “Or at least that’s what it looks like from the ritual set up.” She studied the symbols on the floor and the altar’s construction. “Bloody hell, it is going to be painful when he pulls our energy out. Well, except for Detective McMurtry. I’m pretty sure he will die cleanly since he’s not an Avalonian.”

“You can call me Jason,” he said, “No need for formality at this point.” He gave the small sorceress a charming smile that Anne had never seen on the detective’s face.

“Be quiet,” snarled the leader of the werewolves.

“Ignore them Jonas,” Arem said, regaining his normal confident countenance, “This is how Avalonians always act when facing death. Or at least, the ones from Blackguard. They’re doing it so that we’ll make a mistake.” Arem looked down at Anne. “No, she’s not going to come willingly. You should start the ritual now. At least, I’ll get the satisfaction of seeing that lot die. Especially Jaegar.” A twisted smile spread across the elf’s face.

The werewolves started chanting in words that tickled the back of Anne’s mind. They sounded so familiar. Like when she heard someone speaking Spanish and it brought back some of her old high school Spanish classes. Arem stood in front of the altar and started singing. The music was different from anything Anne had heard before, but tantalizingly familiar. Even more than the words the werewolves were chanting. Then the elf touched the altar. As he pulled back his hands, Anne could suddenly see strings of translucent energy erupting from the altar. Most stuck to the altar, but there were at least a dozen that attached to the werewolves. More shot over her head and latched on to Jason and the Avalonians. Arem walked from the altar and placed a knot of strings on Anne’s chest. It burned. Then, Anne noticed something.

There were words on the strings! Words like the ones she’d seen on the other altar. Elven words. Anne could read the string. Something about binding her to the Towers of the Fallen. As she read, she understood more of how the strings worked. She could reach out with her mind and tug on them. She grabbed one of the strings from the knot that Arem and plucked it like a guitar string. The elf turned back with a quizzical look. Anne saw how the knot on her chest was connected to the knot on the altar. How all of the strings connected. So, what would happen if she unraveled the big knot?

“ANNE! STOP!” screamed both Arem and Veronica. Why was the sorceress telling her to stop? Didn’t she understand that Anne could stop this? As Anne yanked on the strings, the knot on altar unraveled. Anne delighted at the sight of horror on Arem’s face. Except the strings weren’t going back into the altar. Shouldn’t they go back into the altar? No, they were forming a new knot. Something else. As she read the new words, Anne realized it was an uncontrolled gate. A brilliant mirror some fifteen feet in diameter appeared behind Arem. Several of the strings were sucked into the gate. No, the energy was being pulled. What if those strings were attached to someone? Like Kurt?

Anne reached with all of her strength and tugged at the strings connected to the Avalonians and Jason. They held fast for a brief instant and then snapped. Anne ignored the screams of pain as she wrangled the dancing strings of power. They were like holding on to live electric wires. She needed to ground them somehow. More out of instinct than a rational thought, Anne forced the strings onto the werewolves.

Wolf howls intermixed with human screams and filled the warehouse. It looked like the werewolves were being dragged to the gate, then the strings pulsed with silver and gold energy. The werewolves shrank back to human bodies. Before Anne could even question what was going on, the gate pulsed dangerously with the influx of energies. Energy coursed back out as the gate overloaded. Anne screamed as a burst of the energy slapped against the knot on her chest.

“You fool,” Arem said, also in pain, “You have no idea what you just did.” He stepped in front of the gate and sang a new song. The pulsing shifted and the gate exploded in a brilliant white light. The most intense pain Anne had ever felt ripped across her body before everything went mercifully dark.

Erik

Erik would never be sure why he had decided to take Far’ling with him to raid the warehouse. He didn’t even think about it as he was strapping the elven blade to it’s small of the back sheath. Like all Imperial soldiers and operatives, he knew his way around all sorts of bladed weapons. That said, Erik was always preferred putting bullets on target than getting in close with blade in hand. Still, there was something right about going after Arem with the ancient blade instead of his AK.

The two combatants landed on the roof. Erik could feel Arem’s rage emanating from the elf like an aura. Erik thrusted down with power as he felt the slight shift in the elf’s emotions. A lance of red energy erupted from the end of Arem’s sword where Erik had been standing an instant before. A little push of power and Erik landed next to an aerial. Far’ling sliced through the aluminum frame like it was paper. Erik caught the metal rod with his power and launched it like a ballista bolt at the elf. Arem brought up his sword, glowing with a brilliant white and effortlessly sliced the projectile in two.

Erik hadn’t waited to see the effect of his attack. He was busy snatching up a set of patio furniture and hurtling the pieces at the elf. Arem casually sliced through the table, the two chairs, and the umbrella before getting smacked in the face by the flower pot. Arem stumbled back as the clay pot shattered on his cheek. Blood trickled down from a half-dozen small cuts.

“That was a cheap shot, Erik,” Arem growled, “I expected something more dignified from you.” The elf unleashed a blast of emerald green. Erik rolled to the side, easily avoiding the magic. He was surprised when pain still flashed through him. Damn, what kind of spell had that been? Whatever it was, Arem looked winded from casting it. Erik must have pissed off the elf more than he thought.

“This isn’t a fencing bout,” Erik said, as he stood up. “This is a fight.”

“Very true,” Arem said. The elf materialized in front of Erik, who barely had time to parry the elf’s snaking thrust. Damn glamor, Erik thought as Arem pressed his attack with a series of blinding slashes. Pain and blood blossomed on Erik’s left thigh and forearm as he missed a pair of attacks. Erik stepped in and used his own sword to push Arem’s rapier out. Then he punched the elf in the chest with a telekinetically-enhanced fist. Arem flew back and slammed into the building’s HVAC.

“That was just cheating, Erik!” Arem complained through grunts of pain.

“If you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying hard enough,” Erik shot back.

“Oh, I quite agree,” Arem said. Erik barely felt the smugness from the elf before the gate opened behind him. A dozen orcs rushed the Avalonian psychic.

Anne

Anne placed the glowing red dot on the wolf barreling towards her and squeezed the trigger. The stubby Russian assault rifle bucked and the wire stock slammed back into her shoulder. The wolf whined in pain as the bullets hit and sprawled across the street. Anne pivoted to the next wolf.

“Take out the damned sorceress first!” an unfamiliar voice boomed through the street. Anne instinctively turned to the voice, barely remembering to swing her rifle with her head. A hulking man-wolf stood where the largest wolf had been a moment ago. I don’t care what Veronica says, these are werewolves! Anne thought. Suddenly realizing what the man-wolf had ordered, Anne spun back to the team’s spell slinger.

Veronica was on the ground, cradling what looked like a broken left arm. Three wolves were trying to pounce on her, but Veronica was deflecting each blow with a shield of shimmering gold energy. Anne brought up her AK and aimed at the nearest of the three wolves. Before she could pull the trigger, a hammer blow landed on the back of her head. Stars exploded in her vision, even through the helmet. Stunned, Anne barely remembered to roll before another clawed fist landed next to where her head had been. She looked up and another man-wolf stood over her. Well, this one was clearly a woman-wolf. It snarled in rage and cocked it’s fist back to strike again. Then it’s chest exploded from three gunshots. The body slumped to the ground as someone picked Anne up.

“Kurt?” Anne asked, trying to clear her head.

“Sorry, it’s just me,” Jason said. “Can you stand?”

“SILVER! That human has SILVER!” the leader screamed, pointing at Jason and Anne. Jason swore under his breath as three other wolves sprang at them. Anne managed to get her AK up and hip fired a long burst. Much to her surprise, two of the wolves fell to the ground. The third knocked her to the side as it lunged for Jason. Anne stumbled as Jason let go of her and slid away from the snapping jaws of the wolf. He brought up his pistol and fired twice. The wolf yipped in pain and then fell unmoving to the street.

“Turn around, they’re not down!” he shouted at her pointing back to the wolves she’d taken down with her AK. Except, they weren’t down, or even wolves anymore. Two more of the man-wolves now stood where the wolves had been a moment before.

“AVALON, RALLY!” Kurt bellowed over the din of the battle. Anne could see the tall German dragging a limp Samantha back to an alley.

“Cover me, I’m going for the girl,” Jason said, “Aim for their heads.” Before she could ask, Jason darted towards Veronica. Anne fired at the two creatures until the magazine ran dry. She fumbled as she tried to remember how to get the AK mag out. The two man-wolves were suddenly looming over her. Anne let go of the assault rifle and drew her Glock. The larger of the pair backhanded her with enough force to spin her completely around before Anne felt to the hard asphalt. Pain radiated from all over her face. She was pretty sure her jaw was broken. As she looked around, Anne could see that Jason was lying unmoving next to a similarly still Veronica. With an incredible amount effort and pain, Anne rolled her head over to where she’d seen Kurt. He was on the ground next to Samantha. Dale was facedown on the street some fifteen feet from the pair. A pair of soft leather boots walked up to her.

“You idiots,” Arem snarled, “Look at her!”

“You said alive, nothing about her being intact,” one of the man-wolves snarled back. “We lost five of our pack to this one and her friends!” There was a swishing sound and Anne felt a warm wetness cover her. The head of the man-wolf that talked back to Arem landed on the ground next to Anne with a meaty thunk.

“Now, you’ve lost six because of your stupidity,” Arem replied coldly. “Get them all in warehouse and clean up this street. We have to get her fixed up and ready for the ritual. Otherwise she won’t survive the trip back to Meliandre.” Pain flashed as two sets of hands roughly lifted Anne. Thankfully, the pain went away as she was swallowed up by blackness.