Lies Ripped Open (36 page)

“Someone got that book to the man who would use it to become the lich; that someone was me.”

The book was a step-by-step guide for a sorcerer to turn themselves into one of the most terrifying monsters I’d ever encountered. One that had left me for dead.

“People died,” I said, keeping my anger in check.

“My masters wanted it done, so I did it. I believe it was a test to see how liches perform. Unfortunately, after that disaster and then the death of another lich only a few years ago, one you personally killed, it was decided the experiment was over. Sham
e really.”

I didn’t bother telling him that it was Olivia who’d killed the lich in the end. “Anything else?”

“Oh, Simon Olson in Maine. Remember him? Do you remember that he had visitors? That someone was checking up on his progress to find some people we needed? Guess who?”

“You were there too?” I kept the shock out of my voice, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me even slightly flustered.

“I’ve been lots of places. Simon was meant to find someone who could create his own guardians. We could have marched into any realm we felt like with guardians we could create
ourselves
. You managed to fuck all of that up too. Do you see why my
masters
don’t like you? You’re always in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s infuriating.”

I walked off to a nearby steep bank and glanced down at the stream below.

Enfield turned to me. “You really want to show all of these people that you won’t follow through with the law?”

“Oh, I’m following the law,” I explained.

“This isn’t taking me out of the realm.”

“No, I’m not going to be doing that.”

“He dares to defy your laws.” He proclaimed at the top of his voice.

“Explain, Nate,” Elaine demanded. She had to be seen as having no part in all of this.

“I don’t want to take him to the realm gate; in fact I refuse to do so.”

“Do you have any reason why this is the case?” she asked.

“Because this piece of shit tried to have me killed, tried to have my friends killed, and I don’t see why I should have to help him anymore.”

“I demand retribution,” Enfield said. “Someone bring me a blade and I’ll take his head here and now.”

Elaine removed a blade from the scabbard of a nearby Avalon guard, and passed it reluctantly to Enfield.

“On your knees,” he said to me, pointing the tip of the sword to my heart.

I did as I was told.

“Do you have any final words, before I run you through?” he asked.

“Nate, just take him to the gate,” Elaine pleaded.

“Fuck you, Enfield,” I said.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I invoke the Accords,” I shouted. “And I challenge Enfield to fight.”

CHAPTER
36

T
o say that Enfield was unhappy would downplay his complete tantrum that followed my invocation of the Accords. He had to be wrestled to the ground and his sword removed, while I sat there looking as smug as I possibly could.

“You can’t do this,” Enfield said for the hundredth time.

“Actually, that was my concern too,” I told him. We were
sitting
opposite one another in the park, while the various
Avalon
representatives who’d followed us now argued amongst
themselves
about whatever politicians argue about. Everything, and nothing, I assumed.

“You see, I too was worried that it went against Accord law, but it doesn’t.”

“Of course it does, you smug prick,” Enfield snapped. “You can’t use the Accords on me when I just used them.”

“Actually, turns out I can. You see you challenged a member of Avalon, and specifically a member of the SOA. So your
problem
was with them. I’m not a member of any Avalon agency, and I don’t work for Avalon in any capacity. I’m outside of that remit. So I could challenge you, because the original challenge couldn’t be given to me to perform.”

Enfield’s face dropped.

“You thought you were so clever,” I continued. “Turns out
you shouldn’t have picked a fight with an agent of Avalon. Maybe you
should have picked Tommy, or even Alan, neither of those work for Avalon. But you didn’t. And you’re a stupid idiot for it.”

“You’re not going to get away with this.”

“I already have. People like you think they know the law, but they don’t really. You throw about the general idea because you think that’ll scare people off, but you don’t know shit. The Accords were only meant to be used in times of possible war. They weren’t created for a criminal to use to get out of being arrested. I can’t think of many criminals who’d want to do it. But because you picked Fiona, singled her out, you forced yourself to take the part of one organization fighting another. In this case, you picked a fight with Avalon. So, now I am picking a fight with you and your entire organization.

“The organization of people against you and your masters. It’s not a catchy name, I’ll admit.”

“How many members do you have in this group?” he demanded. “Otherwise it’s just you and then your declaration of the Accords is still illegal.”

I stood up, and thankfully everyone fell silent. “How many people here want to join my organization against assholes like Enfield here?”

Alan, Tommy, and Fiona were the first three who took a step forward, followed by Lucie and Olivia.

“Ta very much,” I said and sat back down. “Enough people for you?”

“I won’t tell you anything,” he declared.

“We already know you can’t tell us anything of use. I don’t care about that.” I leaned forward and whispered, “I’m betting enough of these people work for the same group as you though. And I’d like to send them a message. So, congrats, you get to deliver it. Well, when I say deliver it, I mean I kick the shit out of you.”

“You think you can take me?”

I smiled. “With a song and dance in my heart.”

Enfield was mercifully quiet after that, until Elaine bid everyone for quiet. “The declaration of the Accords is legal. Nate will fight Enfield. However, Enfield gets to pick the stipulations.”

“No magic,” he said immediately.

“That is standard for all fights,” Elaine pointed out.

“Yes, but I want us both wearing sorcerer’s bands to ensur
e it.”

There were murmurs of approval in the crowd, and Enfield couldn’t have looked more pleased with himself if he’d discovered that he could, in fact, lick his own scrotum. “Let’s see how you cope now, you piece of a shit.”

I remained quiet, but was a little concerned to the point that I missed the rest of what Elaine was talking about.

“Do you agree?” she asked me.

“Eh?” I managed.

“Enfield has requested that the fight be here, now, and that there be no weapons allowed, save for what you can pick up during the fight. It’s also to the death, Nate.” She leaned over and whispered to me, “A number of those here are quite keen on th
at idea.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said loud enough for everyone t
o hear.

One of the guards—a young woman with a round face—brought over three sorcerer’s bands and attached the first one to Enfield’s wrist, with an audible click. He shivered for a moment and then smiled. The guard placed the band on my wrist and paused. “I’m sorry, I have to do this,” she said softly, without meeting my gaze. And then attached a second just above the first. “That’s for your necromancy.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I told her.

She looked up at me and nodded once, before clicking the band shut. The effect was immediate, as the glyphs that had been in regular use on my arms for several days vanished at once. I dropped to one knee, while Enfield laughed across from me. His laughter stopped when I glanced up at him and winked. I got back to my feet and brushed my knees down.

“The venom left my body a few hours ago,” I told him.

The crowd had grown even larger since we’d arrived at the park, now consisting of a massive group of over a thousand
people
, who encircled us. I spotted Tommy and Olivia. Tommy gave me the thumbs up, but I noticed that Olivia’s and his hands were squeezed tight against one another.

“I hope you can do this,” Elaine said as she walked past me.

Me too
,
I thought.

“When you’re ready,” Elaine shouted and then stepped back.

Enfield sprinted toward me, and when I moved aside, kicked out toward me. I blocked the kick, but he followed it up with a second and a third, each one coming quicker than the last. Even without his magic, Enfield was a formidable opponent. He kicked out at my lower leg, which I blocked, and he lashed out with a fist. I moved aside and snapped a punch of my own at his jaw, but he grabbed my arm, bending it back and locking the joint, before turning and throwing me over his shoulder to the ground. I narrowly missed a stomp to the head as I rolled away, but couldn’t avoid the kick to my chest as I got back to my feet.

I landed on the ground, the air having left me before I ever reached it. I expected to have Enfield try to follow up immediately and when that didn’t happen, I got back to my feet to
discover
he was standing there waiting for me.

“Didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” I asked.

I walked over to him and threw a quick jab at his jaw, which he easily avoided, but he walked right into the kick to his knee, which took him down to a kneeling position, before I caught him in the chest with a powerful enough punch that he fell to the dirt. I took a step back and motioned for him to stand.

He did so, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood that was trickling from his mouth. Without warning he dashed toward me, with more punches and kicks, each one avoided or blocked and returned with more of my own. By the time we were done, we both had split lips and dirt-covered clothes, and I noticed that he changed his fighting stance to protect sore and vulnerable ribs.

Enfield moved in with a vicious kick to my ribs, but I’d already seen it coming and kicked up at his calf muscle, defusing it of any power and causing him to limp back. Instead of allowing him a moment to breathe, I piled on the pressure, catching his injured calf with my knee, and then smashed my elbow into his exposed ribs. Enfield tried to push me back, and I grabbed his wrist, twisting it and swiping out at his feet, dumping him on the ground headfirst. I kept hold of the wrist and stepped over his arm, locking the elbow in place and then wrenched the limb back as hard as I could. The shoulder popped and Enfield screamed in pain, but I hadn’t expected him to ignore it and roll to the side, dragging me over and forcing me to release my grip.

I rolled back to my feet and found Enfield already on his. His left arm hung uselessly, so he used his legs and feet to keep me at a distance while he moved around the clearing. I grabbed an errant kick, but he launched up with the other foot, twisting as he did. I released his foot, but the kick still connected with my jaw, staggering me just enough to put some distance between us. I rubbed the side of my face and prepared for another round, but Enfield had walked to a nearby tree, smashing his elbow into the trunk. He roared out in pain, but unfortunately for me, his arm was no longer dislocated.

“Everything you do, I can counter,” he said rotating his arm. “I am better than you.”

I said nothing, which only seemed to increase his anger. He ran toward me, tackling me to the ground, where he threw a punch at my head. I caught it, locking my arms around the limb and then lifted my legs so that I had him in a triangle chokehold. Enfield didn’t have a lot of options, and even as he punched me again and again in my ribs, I refused to let go. It was only when he picked me up and dumped me on my head that my hands began to loosen their grip. On the third time, he swung me at the tree and I released my grip, falling to the ground, but kicked out, catching him in the nose, which crunched from the blow.

He staggered back, and I tackled him to the ground, pummeling his chest and head. Enfield caught my wrist and punched me in the ribs, one of which I felt pop. I lost concentration for a second, and he pushed me off, catching me again in the ribs. The air in my lungs left my body, and I deliberately put some distance between us so that I could breathe through the pain.

Enfield slowly got back to his feet, his eyes never leaving mine. We were both in pain, both using trees to keep ourselves upright.

I pushed myself away from the tree and moved toward Enfield, keeping my hands up in a fighting stance. He kept his hands down until the last second and then launched at me, his fingers trying to gain purchase in my flesh, all pretense of form having vanished. I smashed my forearm into his nose, which crunched again and began streaming blood. He caught me in the groin with a knee that made my eyes water, so I head-butted him and pushed him face first into the tree beside us. A blow to his ribs made him gasp with pain; I brought my knee up into his gut and cracked his temple with my elbow, sending him sprawling on the leaf-covered ground.

He grabbed my leg, trying to unbalance me, so I drove my knee into his jaw, snapping his head aside. I grabbed his hair and dragged him upright before head-butting him again. He stumbled back, and I spun around, catching him in the chest with a kick that floored him. He scrambled away, getting back to his feet just in time to receive another kick to the chest that sent him tumbling down the steep bank behind.

I reached the edge of the bank and watched Enfield get back on his feet. He waved me to come join him. I moved down the bank carefully until I was standing in six inches of rapidly flowing, freezing cold fresh water. There’d be no more running, no more distance. There was simply nowhere to go that didn’t involve scrambling back up the bank. Large rocks littered the stream, and I had to watch where I put my feet on the riverbed.

Enfield threw the first punch, which I blocked, striking out at his injured ribs. He grabbed my arm and dragged me over him into the freezing water, which took my breath away. He forced my head under the water, pushing it down into the soil. The cold startled me and I punched out with everything I had. The blow landed right on Enfield’s temple, knocking him aside, allowing me to sit up and cough up the water that had been forced down my throat. I turned back to my foe, but he hit me in the side of my head with a rock. I fell back into the water and tried to fight back as more blows fell onto me. My vision began to go dark and I knew that he was going to kill me. The grip of his hands as it forced my head under the water seemed limitless, as if he couldn’t possibly be any stronger, while my own strength was slipping away on the current of the stream.

I began to sag as death closed in. Dying in a fucking stream at the hands of an asshole like Enfield made me angry. Very, very angry. I opened my eyes, and hadn’t realized that I’d even closed them. I felt new strength inside of me and I struggled at Enfield’s iron grip, grasping at anything around me in an attempt to fight back. I took hold of something and smashed it with everything I had against Enfield’s head. The tension stopped and I did it again, and again. He tried fighting my hand off, but I hit him in his broken rib and he fell off me into the stream. I immediately rolled to the side, my head finally leaving the water, and threw up the liquid inside me. My vision was shaky and as I coughed and spluttered, I knew that I’d been close to death.

I got back to my feet, and although I was wobbly, and my chest and throat felt as if they were on fire, I was not going to let Enfield win. I took the few steps toward him as he was getting upright and drove my fist into the side of his head. He crashed back down to his knees and I linked my fingers around the back of his head and drove my own knee into his face, again and again. Then I released him and grabbed his ears, pulling his head toward my knee with terrifying force. His face was a ruined mess after the second blow, but he threw a fist of stream soil at my face and I had to move to avoid it, giving him time to get away.

I stalked him, and threw the object I had in my hand at him, which turned out to be his ear. It made a splash as it hit his chest and flopped into the water. He punched out at me, but I grabbed the arm, wrapped my arms around his, and wrenched his elbow to one side, which snapped it like kindling. I released his arm and dragged him out of the water, pushing him up against the bank. I threw punch after punch at him, snapping ribs and causing unknown internal damage to his organs. Every time he
toppled
to one side, I pushed him upright once more and continued with the punishment until my hands were raw and swollen.

“You’re done here,” I told him.

He pushed me with his good arm, so I broke it for him, his ruined mouth was no longer capable of crying out, but he made a gargled noise and dropped to his knees.

“Is this enough?” I shouted to the spectators above us. It had begun to rain again and I was grateful for it as it washed Enfield’s blood from my hands. “I have no desire to murder people while others watch.”