Undead Chaos (25 page)

As I tried to rise, my movements became agonizingly slow, like I was buried in molasses. Three armored bodies and Quinn lay in heaps around me.

Quinn and Santiago stirred, another guard groaned, but the one that had been in the lead lay motionless. He was face down, but what little I could see of his armor was burnt and twisted.

“Clever,” someone said. “But did you really think we’d be fooled twice by your girlfriend’s parlor tricks?”

I struggled to turn my head in the direction of the voice, blinking to clear my vision from the field of stars. I squinted, then curled my lips in anger.

The Conduit smiled pleasantly. “Hello, Marcus.”

I pressed against the trapping spell with a curse.

“Oh, come now,” he chided. “There’s no need for that kind of language. You wouldn’t want to besmirch the respect I have for your family, would you?”

“Funny way of showing it,” I snarled, finally finding my voice.

The Conduit glanced around. “Yes, very unfortunate. Believe me when I say I regret those that have been hurt or killed. But it is for the greater good.”

“Why?” I demanded.

“Why am I here?” he asked. “For Hexcalibur, of course. Honestly, Marcus. I can’t believe you haven’t figured that out already. Your family has been the keepers of the sword for generations, so of course we had to come here.”

“But the Barrier—”

“Was a
complete
surprise.” His eye twitched. “Thank goodness enough of my people were inside before it went up. It’s an annoyance, but I’m sure we’ll figure a way around it.” He raised an eyebrow. “I assume you won’t help with that.”

“No.”

“Shocking,” he said sarcastically. He opened his mouth to continue, but a noise nearby diverted his attention. Santiago’s surviving man was on his knees, attempting to stand. The Conduit sighed.

“Pardon me a moment.” He strode over to the guard and swept his hand in a batting motion. The man launched into the air, landing awkwardly on his side some twenty feet away. His arm broke with a sickening crack, yet he never cried out. The Conduit nodded at his handiwork, then walked back to me.

In the light of day I could make out the details of The Conduit better than when I saw him last. He was close to my age, but the miles on his body had been rough. His bright red hair was lined with gray and his face was strained from years of dark magic. He was thinner than I remembered—almost emaciated.

Despite his skeletal frame, he pulsated with sickening power. I could feel the pressure inside him begging to be released. It was as if the beings he’d absorbed for so long sensed freedom was near and were struggling to break loose.

He sat cross-legged in front of me. “You know, I was actually worried this would be difficult. Your family is renowned for its combat skills, and your guards are a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention those beasts in the forest. My goodness they were vicious. I certainly didn’t expect that, either. Things seemed lost for a moment.” He grinned. “Then you showed up.

“The funny thing about all this,” he added, his neck ticking involuntarily, “is that you and your sense of nobility actually solved all my problems. I just had to provide you a few traces of a plan, a couple hints, and you did all the work. Granted, there was a chance that you’d die in the escape or fall to one of my agents here, but I had faith in you. And you proved me right.”

My eyes widened with horror. I hadn’t escaped from the Quaos facility, I was allowed to leave. He must have planted the idea for how to defeat the cell magic when he showed me his visions of the future. Then he knowingly removed the majority of his forces to ease our escape. But if he left traces of his plan in my mind, then that meant...

Oh hell.

“Finally put two and two together, eh?” he asked, noting the dismay on my face. “About time.”

I stared at him and my stomach sank. “You didn’t know where it was, did you?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “Well, not specifically. But you did.” The Conduit ruffled my hair like I was a kid.

His gaze shifted to the swords on my back and he smiled with intoxication. “Hello, lovely.”

The assault rifle was nowhere near me, so I pressed against the trapping spell, inching my hand down to my holster. The Conduit rolled his eyes and slammed his fist into my nose. The cartilage snapped and blood gushed down my face.

The Conduit winced as he rubbed his palm. “Give me some credit, Marcus. Do you really think I’d offer you the chance to harm me? You are weak, but you are also exceptionally clever, and that makes you dangerous. This spell is far beyond your capabilities, and struggling against it is wasted effort. It kept Simeon Fawkes down and his Skill outweighed yours tenfold.”

The Conduit gazed at the battle raging around us with sadness. “Look at this,” he said, waving a trembling hand. “All this death and destruction. Not just here, but across history. It’s madness, Marcus, complete madness. The Elves knew it thousands of years ago, and most of them fled. For good reason too. Skilled or Normal, we are a species obsessed with selfish desires, greed and deceit. We butcher ourselves in the name of justice, religion and ideals. But those are all fronts, every one of them. They are masks for our true, evil nature.”

He shook his head. “No, you and I are on our knees for a reason. We will bow to an era of madness, knowing that in aftermath of the apocalypse that is to come, our world grows stronger and more united. We will kneel because we must be humbled as the new world is born.”

He gripped the hilt and yanked Hexcalibur from the scabbard. The moment it sprang clear, the air around us contorted—as if trying to flee.

“All these years,” The Conduit purred softly, admiring the blade. It vibrated with nauseating power, echoing the mischief and evil of thousands of years. “All the time and effort spent creating monstrosities and absorbing iota after iota of power. All for this one moment.”

He ran his palm along the blade, slicing the skin open neatly. He clenched his fist, squeezing blood onto the grass.

“Thank you, Marcus,” he said earnestly. “You have given me the key to our world’s survival. The chaos we bring will bond all people in the fight for survival. They shall face the end as a single entity, and from the ashes of despair and destruction, a stronger, more cohesive society will arise. No more separation between Normals and Skilled. No more witch hunts or persecutions. Because of this.” He gazed at the blade. “And because of you. You who brought it to me. Generations from now, our descendants will sing your praises.”

With that, he called upon every ounce of his Skill, swung the blade over head, and drove it deep into the bloody ground between us.

The dam burst and the Skill rushed from him.

Waves of raw, unfettered power lanced down his arms, magnifying a thousand times as they traveled through the hilt of the sword and into the ground. The blade exploded with red light and the heat of The Conduit’s insanity washed over me, engulfing me in the madness.

For a moment I glimpsed the openness of his mind and understood how a man could lose touch with sanity. By using his body and soul to store power well beyond the human limit, he had baked all his lucid circuit breakers long ago. His passion, tenacity, determination and forethought remained intact, but his humanity had simply eroded. Like a hideous virus, the idea of bonding all people through destruction had taken root and grown until nothing else remained.

The explosion of havoc ripped holes in reality all around us. Areas of the lawn turned brown and died while other sections heaved and buckled. The sky exploded with the intensity of both sun and moon, which scorched the grass, turning it yellow instantly. Sections of atmosphere solidified and fell to the ground in large blue chunks while windows to unstable realms ripped open, filling the air with the horrifying screams from the unseen creatures on the other side. Portions of reality around us simply went dark, ceasing to exist. Even the earth itself let forth a cry of horror as it realized the level of destruction the madman was birthing.

Quaos agents all over the property began thrashing with pleasure as their leader wailed with ecstasy. Many dropped to their knees to cry thanks to the heavens while others were so overcome with madness, they ran screaming in all directions. Those incapable of handling the psychic overload from The Conduit, however, simply fell forward and stopped moving.

I, too, fought against the assault on sanity.

The raw emotions from The Conduit crashed against my rational mind. I gritted my teeth, struggling to prevent the mounting force of his lunacy from breaking down my barriers. Pain stabbed behind my eyes and blood poured from my nose. The red liquid flowed into my mouth, filling it with the familiar metallic taste.

Before me Hexcalibur strengthened as it fed off the madman. True to his name, he was funneling all of his power and instability through the blade. It sucked The Conduits’ Skill like a vampire and ejected wave after wave of insanity and chaos.

The agent howled an unearthly scream, but made no move to extract himself from the process. He gripped the hilt tightly, willingly giving himself to the cause.

The world—his new world—would drown in hellish instability.

The funny thing about havoc is that you cannot control what it does or where it goes. Much like the electrons of a lightning bolt, chaos travels wherever it wants and does whatever it likes. This had two significant effects that I was willing to bet The Conduit hadn’t thought of.

The first was that the family Barrier, which was designed to maintain order in an unstable environment, sputtered several times before vanishing all together. As it collapsed, I felt the psychic blow as hundreds of attackers poured onto our property.

Many fell to the trappings and creatures of the forest, but their numbers were great and too many would survive to join the battle.

The second effect of the insanity pouring from Hexcalibur was the loss of stability on my trapping spell. The bonds that held me snapped like an old rubber band. Freedom rushed into me like breath to a drowning man.

I inhaled deeply and stumbled to my feet. Blood seeped down my chin and dripped onto my shirt, but I stood and stared at the madman kneeling before me. With a growl, I staggered over, drew back, and punched him in the face. The Conduit stopped screaming long enough to stare at me in surprise.

“How?” he cried.

I grabbed him by the lapels of his robes and jerked him to his feet. His hands came free of the hilt, but the sword continued to draw upon his power. Before he could react I yanked the sword from the dirt.

Blinding pain exploded inside me as the sword began feasting on my own Skill as well. Screams from distant realms filled my head while my hand felt as if the skin was being peeled from the bone. I felt the sword grasping for me, begging to consume more, but I resisted the urge to give in to its demand. Instead, I pressed back against the howling blade with my Skill, then drove it deep into The Conduit’s gut.

His eyes widened with pain and fear as a different, horrified scream erupted from his throat. The power of chaos flowed into him at a rate not even his expanded, unstable mind could withstand. He clawed at his face, peeling skin with his fingernails and thrashing as if he were on fire.

The sword grabbed me, but I forced my hands to release both the hilt and The Conduit. I stumbled backward and the man fell to his knees as the weapon of mischief and curses consumed him. The magnified entropy filled his body, rending flesh. Then, with a final cry, he detonated like a supernova. The blast vaporized his living tissue, and the shockwave threw me on to my back.

Bone and sinew shredded until nothing remained of The Conduit but a few burning scraps of red cloth.

As the echo of the explosion diminished, Hexcalibur clattered to the ground, turning dull once more. I rolled to my knees and crawled to where it lay. It was scorching hot, so I removed the scabbard and slid the sword into it without touching anything. Once secure, I hefted the scabbard onto my back, making an X with my own sword, and cinched it tight.

In the wake of the madman’s demise, the world around me sputtered and popped as normalcy struggled to reclaim our world. The holes in reality stitched back together while the sun and moon returned to their proper state.

Unfortunately, the barrier failed to reenergize. I could feel Quaos agents crashing through the woods and knew they’d be on us within minutes. There was little time to collect our forces and mount a counterattack. I saw the assault rifle several feet away and picked it up. The heaviness of the weapon was comforting.

I turned to find Santiago and Quinn kneeling next to the fallen guard.

“Santiago?” I asked.

The guard shook his helmet. “Mercer took the brunt of the explosion.” He looked at me. “What happened?”

“The Conduit rigged the well with the equivalent of a magical land mine,” I said. “Mercer inadvertently detonated it.”

Tears leaked down Quinn’s cheeks. “He saved our lives.”

I blinked back tears, but said nothing. Had I opted to stay and fight rather than try and run with Hexcalibur, maybe Mercer would still be alive. The guilt pressed against my heart. It would stay with me for a long time.

As I moved toward the survivors, the sickening stench of brimstone filled my nose. Nausea overwhelmed me. I staggered forward.

“Marcus, what’s wrong?” Quinn asked, rushing to catch me.

“Penetration,” I gasped, struggling to keep my food down.

A roar split the reality of our world, and terror, the likes of which I hadn’t felt in over fourteen years, gripped me.

Not even the passage of time could erase the memory of that sound. It was burned into my soul.

The great evil of my childhood was here.

Chapter Twenty-One

Hellcat Hath No Fury

“Santiago,” I said cautiously, moving Quinn toward the guard. “Grab Mercer and your surviving man and get to the hospital wing now.”

He rose to his feet and leaned heavily on one leg. “My duty is to protect you and the family,”

“I know, but you’re injured. Take care of your people by getting them to safety.”

Santiago stared at me, then lifted his dead compatriot as if he weighed nothing. He limped to his other man and helped him to his feet, then dragged his people toward the house.

“You too, Quinn,” I said.

She pressed herself to me. “No.”

“Please,” I begged. “I know what’s coming and you don’t want to be a part of it. Get out of here.”

Fire burned in her eyes. “I told you I’m here to fight.”

I clenched my jaw. “Fine.”

She pulled away and gently patted my cheek. “Smart boy.”

“Marcus!” my mother called as she jogged toward us. She was dressed in her traditional Huntress wardrobe of tight white pants and a thin white leather breastplate. Her hair was coming loose from its ponytail and she was filthy. Her outfit was splattered with blood, but none of it appeared to be hers.

She wrapped me in a huge hug. “Thank goodness you’re alright. I heard from some of the guards that you were here.”

“You’re covering me in blood,” I squeaked as she crushed me in her arm.

She released me. “Sorry.”

Then she noticed the pair of swords on my back.

“Marcus, what are you doing with that?” she asked in a dark voice.

“Long story. The pressing issue is that something very bad is on the property.”

“I felt it, too” she said.

There was a crashing sound and a handful of Quaos agents burst through the tree line. I spun around, snapping the assault rifle into my shoulder, but didn’t squeeze the trigger.

The agents were sprinting in every direction, shrieking in terror.

There was another deafening roar that attacked my sanity with gusto. It was followed by a human scream of raw horror that was suddenly cut short. More surviving Quaos agents poured onto the lawn, clawing over one another in panic.

It was getting closer.

“Angela!” my father shouted as he rounded the corner of the house. He, too, was filthy and his robes torn. The fancy hilt of his fencing sword glinted in the sunlight, and he slid the blade into the scabbard. He was sweaty and breathing hard, but otherwise showed no signs of physical damage. My parents hugged and my father nodded to me.

“Marcus.” Then he frowned. “Is that Hexcalibur?”

“Hey, Dad. And yes it is. We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

He started to say something, but paused. “Okay. You look awful, by the way,” he added.

I wiped the dried blood from my face. “You’re no sexpot yourself.”

My father smiled, but grew serious as he glanced toward the woods. “The forest traps have only succeeded in slowing it. Angela, go back to the Homestead and round up some guards. Make sure they are appropriately armed.”

Mom gave him a peck on the cheek and dashed toward the house with the speed of a jaguar.

Dad turned to my partner. “You’ve grown into a very beautiful woman, Quinn,”

She blinked and opened her mouth, but couldn’t find her voice.

“I assume she’s joining us,” my father said to me.

“Yup.”

“Good. We’ll need all the help we can get. We also need your Skill, son,” he added, indicating my assault rifle.

“Crap,” I replied, reluctantly setting it down. I also emptied my pockets of the magazines. Hitching my sword tight upon my back, I slipped the other weapon into my arms.

“Is that a paintball gun?” my father asked.

I grinned. “Trust me, these will sting.”

He gave me a sideways glance, but chose not to press the issue. “Okay, let’s move.”

We jogged toward the tree line, avoiding the occasional Quaos agent as they raced past. We punched into the forest and were instantly enveloped by the thickness of the brush. I vaulted over a fallen tree and shoved through a particularly large fern. Bugs buzzed around me, and I wondered how I’d ever thought playing in the woods was fun.

“So what we’re going up against?” Quinn asked in a low voice.

“Something I’m all-too-familiar with,” I replied as we came upon the intruder. It was entangled in the enchanted roots and bushes that served as part of the security system.

“Oh my,” Quinn said, sliding to a halt. “That’s huge.”

The Hellcat, a half mortal, half demon beast, was larger than a lion and completely engulfed in flames. Its paws were like truck tires and its eyes black as coal. Lava-like saliva dripped from its gigantic mouth, and its roars shook the ground. It slashed and snapped at the magical entrapments, ripping wood and flora with each swipe.

My father glowered at the beast. “I sense no signs of weakness from penetrating our perimeter.”

Quinn swallowed. “That’s not good.”

“No,” he replied. “It’s not.”

“I should have peed before we left,” I muttered, absently rubbing the scar on my neck.

Dad ignored me. Instead, he reached toward the beast with an open hand and slowly closed his fingers. The surrounding branches and bushes bent to his command, entangling the Hellcat even more.

“Attention, demon,” he called in a magically amplified voice. “You have crossed onto personal land without the consent of the occupants. This is a violation of one of the oldest treaties between our kinds. You are not welcome here, and I command you to be gone.”

The Hellcat paused and slowly turned its gaze at my father. The only movement was the flicking of its tail from side to side. Flames trailed in its wake.

“I say again, you are not welcome. Return from whence you came!”

“No,” the beast growled. It was a deep, unholy sound that caused my skin to crawl.

“Did that thing just speak?” Quinn asked in a hushed voice.

There was a crunching noise behind us, and I turned to see my mother and three guards stomping through the brush. My father gave them several motions with his hand and the men took cover behind fallen trees, training their high-powered cannons on the Hellcat.

Mom trotted over to us, the blade of her katana shining in the filtered sunlight. She regarded the beast with cool determination.

“A Hellcat, eh?” she asked, ready to slice and dice the kitty. “A large one too.”

“And conversant,” I added.

“I’m sorry?”

“It spoke,” my father said quietly, keeping his focus on the Hellcat.

Mom glanced from her husband to the entangled animal and back with wide eyes. “I’ve never even
heard
of that before. What should we do?”

Dad glared at the beast. “We kill it.”

“I think not,” the Hellcat replied with a low, hollow chuckle.

It roared and the flames expanded from its body in all directions, cooking the plants that held it. It shook back and forth several times before finally freeing itself from the entangling branches. It crouched, then launched at us with a growl.

The Hellcat was fast, but Dad snapped his hands sideways. Branches caught his target in flight. There was an explosion of fire, and the beast twisted in midair. It landed on all fours, then spun to face us.

My father made a motion and the guards opened fire. Bullets designed to take down unholy beings thumped into the flaming hide, forcing the Hellcat to stagger back several steps. It roared, dug its claws into the ground, and leaped again.

This time Dad shoved his hands toward it, muttering under his breath. A blast of wind rocketed toward the demon-kitty, halting its forward momentum. It dropped to the ground once again. Before it could recover, Dad yanked his hands skyward. A column of solid air hit the Hellcat from below, lifting it into the trees. The guards continued to pump rounds into the beast, which snarled and hissed with pain and rage as its flaming blood fell to the earth.

“Angela, Marcus, now!” Dad said as he flipped the beast over in the air. Mom raised her sword high and the clouds overhead swirled and darkened. They sizzled and popped as a bolt of lightning arced down. The second it hit her blade, she swung it in the direction of our target. The energy streaked across the distance in an instant, blasting the animal with raw, unfiltered power.

The Hellcat screamed and flailed as electricity danced across its flaming hide.

I shoved my sword into the ground and touched my Skill just enough to form a spell. Small snowball-sized hunks of dirt rose from the ground and hurtled toward the Hellcat, pelting it from all sides. It might not have been as destructive as my mother’s attack, but combined with the rounds the guards were firing, it sure annoyed the crap out of the animal.

I set the aggravation spell on automatic, aimed the paintball gun at the beast, and squeezed the trigger.

Focal Stones arced toward the Hellcat, slamming into it with random elemental force. Waves of cold water splashed against the hide, vaporizing into clouds of scalding steam on contact. Earth stones transformed into boulder-sized projectiles that hammered the Hellcat without mercy. The only ineffective Focal Stone was fire, which flamed blue for an instant before vanishing inside the burning hide.

Next to me, Quinn machine-gunned spells with surprising speed. She clenched her jaw as bolts of pure energy streaked from her new blade, shredding the Hellcat’s molten flesh.

Mom held her sword high again to call another strike, but the Hellcat belched liquid fire at us. Everyone dove in separate directions, and I could feel the hairs on my arms singe as the flames swept past. There was an agonized cry, and as I scrambled to my knees, I saw the back of one of the guards on fire. He dropped to the ground, rolling to extinguish the flames.

I started toward him, but was interrupted by a loud thump. The ground shook as the Hellcat landed heavily. Then it charged us.

Dad raised his hands, but the Hellcat launched into the air, avoiding the strike. As it landed, a shockwave ripped toward us, catching my father and the remaining two guards head-on. The concussion hurled them a dozen yards into the woods. They plowed through the trees before crashing to the ground with a flash.

Mom cried out and sprinted at the Hellcat. It turned to her, but as it raised its paws again, she jumped. She arced over the beast, twisting her body and shoving the sword down into the flames. The monster howled as the blade sank deep into its hide. Blood like lava exploded from the wound.

Mom landed on the other side and sliced at the Hellcat’s flank. The blade split the flaming meat with another shower of sparks and more blood-fire spurted toward her. She spun, but was unable to avoid being splattering by flames. She screamed, dropped her sword, and slapped a hand against her burning arm.

The Hellcat used the distraction to swipe at her. Its massive paw caught her under the chin with enough force to lift her off the ground.

She flew backward and landed limply among the twisted, blackened branches.

Anger poured into my veins and I squeezed the trigger of the paintball gun until it clicked empty. Fear replaced the fire in my chest and I slowly lowered my weapon. The Hellcat brushed off the last of my elemental fury, then turned to face me.

“Ah, the Shifter child,” it said, hunching low and prowling slowly in my direction. Quinn continued to launch spells at it, but it either ignored the pain they caused or simply didn’t feel them.

“I have heard of you,” it continued. “You nearly died some years ago at the hands of my kin. There was power at your command back then. Enough to gain our attention.”

The beast snarled and bared its fangs. “But you trod where mortals are forbidden, and to this day, your scent remains. You owe a debt, Shifter Child, one that must be paid by you and you alone.”

I glanced at the motionless form in white leather and felt sick. Images of fallen loved ones filled my thoughts, the horror at their deaths consuming me once again.

How many had died to save me fourteen years ago?

How many more would die today because of my failures?

Tiny fissures formed in the dam that held the years of fear, humiliation and self-loathing. Streams of pent-up emotions leaked through the cracks while doors that I’d kept closed out of shame strained and creaked. Years of bottled feelings collided against my mind with titanic fury until the gates finally burst open.

My heart rate quickened as the deluge of energy long forgotten crashed through me untamed, filling my senses with raw power.

I shook, my body barely able to restrain the Skill that threatened to rush out of me like a hurricane. I dropped the paintball gun, released my hold on the mud-ball spell, and glared at the Hellcat.

The beast cocked its head. “Is that confidence or foolishness I see in your eyes?” it asked, growling with amusement. “I think it is the latter.”

“Try me.”

“Such hubris,” it said. “You
reek
of weakness. Do you honestly think you and your pathetic mate can hurt me?”

I balled my hands into fists as the dam exploded. “Yeah, I do.”

I dropped to my knee and shoved my hands downward. My fists punched into the soft dirt and my arms sank all the way to the elbows. I gripped the earth with my hands and willed the contact between my soul and the powers of that element. The earth responded, giving itself to me in a blast of primal might.

With a snarl that nearly matched that of the Hellcat, I jerked my arms upward and stood. Giant earthen hands tore themselves free from the ground, and the fingers opened in sync with my own. I flexed them once, testing my control.

Then I turned on my enemy.

The Hellcat reared back in surprise. Before it had time to recover, I slammed my hands together. My symbiotic limbs mimicked the move, immediately crushing the Hellcat with bone-shattering force.

The beast shrieked and Quinn unleashed a torrent of destruction. Spells ripped into the flaming skin, and the animal howled with agony.

I enclosed the Hellcat with a dirt hand, and it writhed as I lifted it into the air. The sod-hand boiled as it gripped the flaming creature, but I was barely aware of the reciprocal heat in my own palm. I ignored the pain, crushing the Hellcat tighter before smashing it to the ground. I repeated the process two more times, then dropped the Hellcat.