G.H.O.S.T. Teams: Book 1 - Magic (26 page)

That being said, I’m sad to say that there isn’t some kind of mystic power that I can use here. I can’t feel their Qi in the air or project my spirit out and reveal their location. The key to fighting blind lies in the fact that people in general are much noisier than they realize. Every step, every breath, shifting your weight, a sleeve flap, a pant leg ruffle, and even the grip of your hand on the leather wrapped handle of your sword, point me in your direction. I would have to use all of this and more because the two elves that I was currently fighting were some of the quietest opponents that I had ever met.
 

As I took in the sounds of my surroundings I learned that all elves were not created equal. In this case Twin Blades was clearly the less skilled of the two warriors. Tracking his movements by sound was fairly easy. Saber however was virtually silent. I was pretty sure that Saber was standing just out of range as Twin Blades moved into position. But if I was wrong then this could all go very bad very fast.

According to Visine the elves could see through the darkness. I decided to use that to my advantage. With jerky movements I kept turning my head side to side. Occasionally I would stop and tilt my head in a certain direction, giving the impression that I thought I had located one of them, but each time I made sure that I was looking in the wrong area. When people believe that they have an advantage they often get sloppy and overconfident. They press their perceived offensive advantage at the cost of their defense. Twin Blades stepped in slowly, his left blade down low as he slashed with his right. As he swung I moved just out of the way of his attack before stepping forward with my own blade. I made a quick swipe with my katana and in an instant there was one less dark elf in the world. There was a thud as his head hit the ground and started to roll away, his body crashing down a moment later.

I immediately slowed my breathing and opened up all of my senses to my surroundings. Saber was good and I needed to get a lock on him before it was too late. Although sound is normally the most important sense in these situations, I wasn’t about to overlook any advantage that I might find. There was a small breeze blowing through the barn, the odor of horses almost overpowering. But I could feel it blowing against my face. The currents swirling around inside of the stable were fairly consistent and predictable and when I felt a break in the breeze, I had a position on him. It was in that very moment that he attacked.

It was the combination of touch and sound that saved me from those first two attacks. Although he moved silently, his blade did not. As it swung through the air I could hear it whistling towards me. Nothing as loud and helpful as a movie sound effect might lead you to believe, but a cutting of the air nonetheless. I barely got my sword up in time to block his attack, his blade bouncing off of mine after impact. Then I felt the air ripple in the wake of his blade, a definite upward movement. I used all of the information that I had gathered from this attack to picture his location and stance. Then it was a matter of guessing the fastest and most efficient strike that he could bring from said position.

Stepping forward I brought my sword up at the last minute in the hope that I wouldn’t give away my guess. Our blades slammed together right in front of my face. A fraction of a second later and I would have been dead. I couldn’t keep playing defense, so the moment that our swords touched I stepped forward and drove my shoulder into his. There was a momentary shuffle in his step as he shifted to avoid getting knocked over. I quickly kicked out and caught his leg, sending him to the ground. My goal was not to do damage but rather to get him off balance. Keeping your opponent off balance is almost always a huge advantage in a fight, but in this case it was a complete game changer. You see as he stumbled towards the ground and shifted about to regain his footing he made noise. Plenty of noise!

I immediately rushed forward and brought my sword into a downward strike. He was down on one knee as he blocked my attack with his sword. This was the beginning of things turning in my favor. I swung two more times with blazing speed. He managed to block each attack, but as long as I kept things on the offensive I could dictate where his sword was going to be. Not being able to see him was less important if I never gave him a chance to counter. At least that was my plan. As I have mentioned before, under normal circumstances I am faster than my opponents. Unfortunately that knowledge was derived from spending years fighting humans. If my earlier fight with Fangsy had been any indication, the supernatural community operated on a different speed scale. And if Hollywood was to be trusted then I should assume that this elf was going to be fast.

I managed a dozen more strikes before his speed, skill, and ability to see in the dark allowed him to counterstrike. Forcing me to leap out of range meant that he had a chance to get back to his feet. I heard the first couple of steps before his footfalls yet again became silent. He believed that he had regained his advantage. But unfortunately for him something had changed, his breathing. Although it didn’t last long, our sword barrage had been intense. Between that and Saber pushing himself hard in order to get me back on the defensive, he was requiring just a wee bit more oxygen. Luckily for me he decided that breathing was more important than remaining silent.

I allowed him to circle to my left so that he could take a position just a bit behind me. Tilting my head in that direction I let him know that I had an approximate idea about where he was standing. I turned a little more to my left, a couple of feet off of my target, and I let a small smile cross my face. My body language was making it clear that I thought I knew where he was, but my aim appeared off just enough to give him the confidence to attack. I shifted my weight in that direction and started to swing my sword. As expected he chose that exact moment to attack. I was standing in the exact position I wanted to be in and I twisted into his attack.

As my sword arced through the air it met his blade in mid-swing, the loud clang of metal on metal surrounded us. With our swords locked together I sprung forward, continuing my twisting momentum, and drove my right elbow into the side of his head. Years of skill were aided by a little luck as I caught him perfectly in the temple. He stumbled back and I moved with him.

I held my sword firm against his, preventing his weapon from getting in the way of my next attack. While maintaining my blade with my left hand I used my right to pummel him in the face. I drove him backwards and kept him off balance as I waited for the perfect opening. Then, when I knew I could get away with it, I shifted my stance and put the full force of my weight behind a strike. It was an open palm to the side of his head. The slap to his ear would be disorienting and the impact against his jaw would break bone. I heard the appropriate pop and knew that I had succeeded. To his credit he didn’t cry out in pain but instead kept struggling to regain his balance. But now it was too late.

Although breaking his jaw didn’t cause him to yell out in pain, it did break his concentration and force him to release the tension he held on his sword. The moment I had the opening I sent my blade deep into his arm. The strike was quick and it didn’t possess the power behind it to sever his arm, but it did bite deep into the muscle. That forced a yelp of pain from his throat as he dropped his sword to the floor. Sweeping his feet out from under him, I dropped down onto his chest with my knee. There was a cracking sound as a few ribs popped under the pressure. I placed my sword at his neck and pushed just hard enough to draw blood.

“Turn on the lights, now,” I ordered.

Slowly the cloud of darkness dissipated in order to reveal the gray skinned elf struggling to breathe under the weight of my sword. Green eyes stared up at me with contempt as his mouth filled with blood. He coughed a few times which caused the blood to run down the side of his cheek. I relieved a little bit of the pressure that I held on his chest in an attempt to keep him from dying on me. After another coughing fit he seemed to be breathing better. I didn’t think that his wounds were immediately fatal so I decided to get with the questioning. I gave my blade a slight twist against his throat to make sure that I had his full attention.

“Your life depends on your cooperation. Why did you and your friend attack us?”

There was another coughing fit as it became obvious that he was having trouble breathing. I grabbed him by the shirt and half-lifted, half-dragged him across the stable to one of the support pillars. I sat him upright in the hopes that the position would make it easier for him to breath. See, I can be nice.

“There, is that better?” I asked.

He nodded his head slightly, as if that was all he dared to move. I stood there with the tip of my sword pointed at his throat as I rifled through my pockets with my free hand. I pulled out a couple of plastic ties and worked one into a loop. As much as I wanted to make fun of those little strips of plastic, they were actually one of the only things on the list of GHOST recommended equipment that I found in anyway helpful.

“Hands,” I ordered.

He obliged by using his left hand to slowly move his right arm into position. Closed eyes and rapid breathing let me know that he was in considerable pain. It took him a great deal of effort to get both of his hands into the tie. Now that visibility had been returned to normal I could see that the cut in his arm went all the way to the bone. Once I had his hands secured with the tie I figured it was safe enough to deal with that wound. Tearing off a piece of his shirt, I bandaged the arm as best I could, and managed to halt the rapid pace of the blood loss. Then I patted him down and removed two sinister looking knives from his belt and a pouch of coins. I tested the weight of the purse in my hand in much the same way that Tovaan had done earlier with our money. It just seemed like the proper technique to use when trying to intimidate a suspect.
 

“Were you paid to take us out? Is that what I’m holding here?” I asked.

Another coughing fit forced him to spit a fair amount of blood upon the floor. He was careful to avoid hitting me, which was not quite the reaction that I expected. Normally the captured individual relishes in the opportunity to cover you in their fluids. His demeanor almost carried an air of professionalism. An emotional disconnect that lead me to believe that this wasn’t personal but rather business. I had suspected that these guys were just hired guns and now I felt like I knew for sure. In the world of interrogation, knowing whether something is personal or professional is extremely helpful.

“I get the feeling that you are a professional. I understand that such a thing would make you reluctant to talk. But since I have your money, it’s almost like you weren’t hired at all. In which case you owe your employer no loyalty. So how about you start spilling the beans,” I smiled.

By this point Visine had secured the horses and was standing behind me watching things unfold. I didn’t think that he wanted to ask any questions but rather he was here to watch my back just in case things went bad. I continued my questioning.

“Okay, good news. We’re in a hurry, so I won’t ask again. Who hired you to attack us? Are there any others around? Speak now and perhaps I hand this money to the local healer in order to save your life. What do you think?”

We didn’t have the time to thoroughly question him. But if I could get a little information now and avoid another sneak attack by Lady Servant later, I figured I should try. There was a hint of hope on his face when I mentioned the prospect of hiring a healer for his wounds. This had just been a job and at the end of the day self-preservation will normally trump even the toughest professionalism. I had no intention of letting him die, but after what had happened to his friend, he had no way of knowing that. There had been no choice with Twin Blades. I was fighting two skilled opponents at a huge disadvantage. But now, out of combat, I was hoping to reduce the number of casualties in my wake.

As I waited for a response, I grabbed a rope that was hanging nearby and used it to secure him to the post. Except for the occasional grunt of pain as I pulled the ropes tight, he remained quiet and pondered my offer. Since Visine was keeping an eye on him I walked over and searched his headless friend. I found a smaller pouch of money and another nasty looking dagger. When I returned to Saber he welcomed me with another coughing fit. Once he stopped I crouched down in front of him and dangled the two pouches of coins.

“We’re leaving now. I can pay the stable boy to leave you where you lay or use this money to acquire you some medical help. The choice is yours,” I said.

I didn’t bother to wait for a response. Instead, Visine and I grabbed our horses and started escorting them out of the stable. We were halfway to the door when he finally spoke up.

“You’ll get me a healer?” he coughed.

“Only if you talk,” I called back over my shoulder.

“He never gave a name,” he started.

I stopped and looked back. His breath was labored and I was pretty sure that the color of his skin was getting lighter. The paler skin was most likely the result of the blood loss. I was starting to realize that he was far more injured than he wanted to let on.

 
“He said others might follow. Outlanders. Paid us to kill any who tried,” he hacked.

“Was he alone?”

“Two priests. Women. Purple…,” he started another coughing fit.

I called out to the stable boy. He must not have been far off as he appeared around the corner rather rapidly. In answer to my question, he informed me that there was a healer close by. I instructed him to fetch the man and I offered him the small pouch if he hurried. I then looked back at Saber.

“Which way did they head?”

“East,” he replied weakly.

“Down Lewey’s Lane right?”

He closed his eyes and nodded in response. His breathing became more and more shallow, his chest hardly moving with each breath. I was starting to worry that I might have waited too long to call the healer.