Chapter 14: Darkened Paths, Part One

Below the Aucethabi, the fighters of the bandit hordes wandered in mazes of their own misperception, the Elder’s illusions keeping them going in circles. Often literally. Fighters on the ground took out the ones that slipped through anyways, with the deaths of these bandits either hidden or played up for dramatic effect.

Aucethabi illusions were not typically long range affairs. They didn’t have to be right on top of them, but it helped to be in sight of the targets. The illusions were telepathic, so it was important to be clear on who the targets were. The true-sighted Elders were stopped by neither tree nor building nor hillside in their sight, and could also see the normally invisible metaphysical disturbances that made magic possible.

But like any creature with two eyes set to the front, they looked one way, and saw one way. They were masters of the sky in this place having wrested the airspace from the bandits.

They weren’t looking for company, but company found them.

Sarah looked up in time to see the blue lightning streak hit the Aucethabi eagle rider, the smoking creature fall out of the air. The Aucethabi were quick to react, quick to defend, but the serious nature of the threat meant they weren’t paying attention to the bandits below. They were paying attention to the lightning elemental attacking them.

The sounds of the bandits started echoing closer in the streets.

“Think we can slow them down?” Jake asked Nick.
“Have the Aucethabi bring those bandit around to the main gate, and cast an illusion on that. Make them batter it, fight it like it was real.” Nick responded.

Jake frowned. “That will bring them pretty close.”
“So will their current rate of movement. You asked me how to slow them down. Have them pin us down in a fight.”

“And when they’re people don’t die?” Jake asked.
“I said nothing about non-lethal tactics.”
“Runecharges.” Jake said. Nick nodded.
“Actual Aucethabi attacks, too.”
“Nice plan if it works.” Jake said.

The last open battle of Qichelbish Kebyt, if not a total fraud, was an excellent diversion.

“There’s one problem, though.” Jake said, his eyes on the blasts of lightning above, and the Elder Eagle Riders dodging them.

“Leave that problem to me.” Nick said.

----------------------------------------------------

Terrence Hooper hadn’t been the original choice for this diversion, but Reculakexus was easily convinced that they could kill more than one bird with him as the one stone.

Obsidian Stoneblade’s aerial squads had been badly chewed up by a combination of unfortunate encounters with Agent Nick Leonard, and equally unfortunate attempts to outfly the Aucethabi in one on one battles. Additionally, their mounts were not machines that could be driven endlessly without food, water or rest. So he welcomed the chance to spare his men and beasts the additional strain.

He also welcomed the chance to pit the two worst threats to his soldiers against each other. Despite the problems it would invite, he found himself hoping that Hooper would not be the victor in those fights. Agent Leonard was a principled rival to have, however frightening his potential might be. He had asked the question directly of that juveh’kuk Green, and much to the objections of the other hostage, had revealed that Leonard might be one of the Elohim.

A dark suspicion crossed his mind. The legends said the mines of Vachoshrichao connected to the Ghostfields. The power that kept the Ghostfields a refuge for bandits and Nephilim—

His?

Maybe the two would kill each other, and do him a favor.

He wasn’t going to count on his good fortune with either of them anymore.

-------------------------------------------------

Terrence quickly found out that he shouldn’t trust to his good fortune either, and that message came by way of an arrow over his shoulder and past his Star Eagle’s head. Satisfied, though, that he had Nick’s attention, Terrence banked to the side and flew towards the rusted metal towers of the central Qichelbish Kebyt compound.

What really got Terrence considering how risky a new confrontation was the shot over his other shoulder. Pretty clear message: I can put the next shot between the other two. Under normal circumstances, Terrence Hooper would have turned around and shot a bolt his way just to show that two could play at that game.

Here, though, Terrence had a part to play, much as he disliked to hold back. There would be no chase. There would be one tower, and he’d alight on the surface. It was a common resting place for the Star Eagle Riders of the region, whatever blood flowed through their veins, so it was known to be stable.

Which is not to say that Hooper wasn’t going to enjoy himself.

He landed on the tower, then dropped a bundle on the roof.

Nick’s heart sank. He knew any number of things that could fit in a bundle that size, and most of them didn’t bode well for their former owners.

The questions of who and what brought the dark thoughts bubbling up. The kind of dark thoughts that are the privilege of those who immerse themselves in the lives of serial killers and the like, as Nick did, not so long ago.

When Hooper dived down into the corroded urban canyon of Qichelbish Kebyt, Nick’s mind was on that bundle. He landed his Eagle and approached it. The cloth wrapping it was dry, but there was always the chance…

No, no, he didn’t let himself think that.

He stepped closer. He almost thought to take out a pair of plastic gloves, before he realized he was wearing the gloves to his armor. He undid the knot at the top of the cloth bag, and let it fall open.

After he did, it took a moment to recover. He took a deep breath he almost let out as scream.

It came out a muffled whimper through his fingers.

Nick hoped Hooper was enjoying this, because Agent Leonard planned on making what came next for him hurt.

-------------------------------------------------

Nick showed up at the entrance, shoved the bundle into Jake’s hands. John and Sarah came closer to see what it was.

As Nick left, he said “I’ll see the other agents into the Vachoshrichao Mines, and then I’m gone.”

John and Jake looked at the bundle. They were both afraid to open it. Each had dealt with the kinds of nasty surprises that came in these packages. Jake had seen worse, but had no desire to see it then and there.

They opened it.

“John, you and Sarah continue evacuating the agents into the mines. I will pursue Terrence Hooper and SAC Green with Nick. Is that clear?”

John turned and looked after Jake as he left. “You do realize, don’t you, that this is exactly what they want us to do.”

“It was a mission that the big guy gave to him as well. He’s got to go.”
“And pursuing things Hooper and Reculakexus’s way might just end up being counter to that mission in the end result.”

Jake looked at him and started laughing.

“Now I remember why I keep you around”, Jake said, shaking a finger at John.

John allowed himself a small smile.

“Seriously. Keep an eye on him. And those other bastards.”

---------------------------------------------------

Nick kept charging ahead, directing the evacuation. If folks got the impression they were being hurried along, their impression wasn’t far off.

But it wasn’t merely that Nick felt the time to find Rachel and SAC Green was wasting with every minute he stood there. He knew the diversion at the defunct front gate wasn’t going to work forever. He didn’t want the illusion to be compromised before they could get the agents clear of the entrance into the Vachoshrichao facility.

Nick’s group approached, the looks of worry and sorrow on their face. They caught his concerned expression, and looked away. Darius especially.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Darius said.
“They took her.” Nick replied, with more control than he would have guessed possible at that point.
“You mean he took her. That’s the last time you should listen to my advice.” Darius said.
“Green was taken with her.” Nick said.
“Don’t tell me…”
“I don’t think she wanted to be with him when she was taken.”

Darius’s face fell further.

Hudson spoke up. “With Hooper exposed, he must have had feared that he’d come under suspicion.”

“So he saddles himself with the most uncooperative hostage since Red Chief?” Rigetti snarked. Everybody smiled in recognition.

“Maybe he wasn’t intending to drag her across Darshiaro.” Nick said.

Hudson looked at him. “Don’t think that, Nick.”
Nick tried to give him a reassuring smile and failed. “I mean, he’s got somebody to hand her off to. Or thought he did.”

Nick was going to go further, but a horn sounded in the distance. He knew what the signal meant. The game was up at the front gate.

Jake quickly came up to him and pulled him aside. John walked over

“I saw this in a vision on a door” he said, and then scrawled something in Talleran runes: “Richuadda”

“Isn’t that the kind of troll?”
“Remember the creature whose thick skull I broke the Changeling with? It’s a particularly nasty kind of troll, sometimes called the ‘Richaddlowua’”

“Demon Troll.” Jake elaborated, though Nick could now understand the word unaided.

“What kind of brilliant ideas are you filling this young man’s head with?” John asked, a wicked smile on his face.

“I had a vision.” He replied.
“Well keep this in mind, oh visionary: if we are talking about Demon Trolls, when they get out, and our people are in arms length of them, those Trolls are going to kill the bandits AND us.” John told him.

“Would they still be alive after so long?” Nick asked.
“Good question. They could be, if the door leads to a nest.” Jake said.

John shook his head and laughed. “Well, if God thinks those dainty little things are what its going to take to hold off that Bandit army, you go ahead and find them.”

With that dubious blessing, Nick and Jake went through the exterior gate to the interior gate. Darius, Rigetti, and Hudson came up on their Lethjirools.

Nick looked up at them. “We need to open this anyways, but keep the folks back until we determine what’s on the other side of this door.”

Rigetti raised an eyebrow. “What are you expecting, Orcs?”
“No, a few cave trolls perhaps.” Nick said, scratching his head.
Rigetti laughed. Then he caught John’s disapproving face.

Hamilton city. Cleanup squad. The Shapeshifters. The Lurkers. The big damn trolls. Those damn things are real.

“Wait, that’s right, there is a such thing. Sorry.” Rigetti said with complete sincerity.

“Well, Thuadeheech often follow the bastards around to scavenge for whatever they’ve eaten last. So maybe you’ll get what you want.” John said, a wicked smile on his face.

“Thank you, no, I’d rather leave both little beasties alone.” Rigetti said, getting a little pale.
“Smart man.” John said.

“Let’s get moving.” Jake said.

They didn’t budge.

“Did I mumble?” he asked.

“Is it true? Somebody said they saw—“ Darius asked

Nick looked up at him with a sad smile.

He wiped the dust off the control panel he was standing by, and looked back at them as he touched his palm to it.

A glow came to his eyes, orange, like a sunset. A hazy aura formed around him. His hands glowed, including the one that was on the device.

Darius and Rigetti never again doubted the choice to follow him into Darshiaro. They knew that in a funny way, they had been chosen for something. They would later find out that being chosen in this way carried burdens and benefits of its own. For the moment they stood there, oddly proud of Agent Leonard.

Elohim was a pretty big promotion from FBI agent, after all.

For Hudson, it brought back memories of his son’s medal ceremony. A devout Methodist, he prayed to God every night for his son, who still served in harm’s way. To see Nick here was to feel pride in his growth, otherworldly as it was. He bowed his head in a short prayer.

The others rode away, without saying a word, without having to. Nick thought he could hear quiet, giddy laughter from Darius from the awestruck Agent.

“God be with you, young man.” Hudson finally said, turning his beast to leave.
“And with you, old friend.” Nick said, the orange light flickering out in his eyes, the gate rising behind him.

Nick walked inside the Qichelbish Kebyt with Jake besides him.

--------------------------------------------------

Joel and the other Aucethabi came in for a landing, ahead of the hordes.

“Sarah, where is Jacob? We need his strength to hold back the bandits!”
“He and Nick went into the Qichelbish to find us some help.” She replied.

Joel’s amethyst eyes came close to hers.
“I know better than to argue with Jake on most things, but is he not aware that the city is deserted?” Joel posed to her.
“Jake said something about finding some sort of troll.”

A weird thing happen. Joel backed up and nodded. He poorly hid a wide, wicked, pointed tooth grin on his face.

“A Richuadda?”

She hadn’t mentioned that name to him.

“I have heard tales. We shall not be disappointed. For now, we hold them off!”

Sarah understood that “we” in this case, meant her, too, Kemosabe. Now she wasn’t the combatant her husband was, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

She wasn’t going to simply swoop in and start doing a lot of stuff. Seraphim Elohim did not work that way. They planned.

“Yes, we shall. Let us prepare.”

Yes, prepare.

When she walked out, she indeed had something up her sleeves. With a flourish of her arms, the smooth river stones flew out of her sleeves, rolling edge-on out into the square, as the hordes gather. Using her telekinetic abilities, she made sure each rolled into a nice, curved perimeter.

Then she said a signal word.

High above, the Star Eagles swerved as their riders took them out of the way of the force field that shot up to the sky. Nobody wanted to test what that barrier would do with a full speed flight through it.

Below, having both feet on the ground, the bandits tried their luck. When the first guy wasn’t burnt to a crisp, Some decided to run through it.

Bad idea. They were bounced like a racquetball. The wiser ones pushed their way through. It was slow going, but they could make their way through it, given a few seconds.

Sarah wasn’t about to give them the time to walk through unimpeded.

She pulled her Staff of Office out of the air. It was a staff of white oak, with a headpiece of gold and silver, the gold the sun and the halo around it, the silver the rays of light that showed from it.

From that sun came a blinding burst of light, searing the bandit's eyes.

When they could see again, she had ten Aucethabi at her sides, each armed with an Elder’s signature spear weapon.

Each took that spear, and spun it around in front of them. As the spears completed their revolutions, each Aucethabi became a clone of Sarah, down to her resplendent Aucethabi robes and armor.

The ones through ran to fight her.

Regardless of which one of her they decided to fight, each who was struck by the staff of the various Sarah’s was instantly wrapped in a bubble of golden light. The good news is that nothing could harm them inside that bubble. The bad news is, that when given even a gentle shove, the bubbles went barreling in that direction, carrying the hapless bandit with them, and literally bowling over any bandit who was unlucky enough to be in the sphere’s path.

Even with this, there were plenty who were willing to try their luck.

Too bad for them, their luck wasn’t about to change. Each of the Sarahs waved the end of their staff at the men, creating a circle of liquid light. A shove of the end of their staffs into that wring sent them moving into the front lines. Anybody hit would be paralyzed, and anybody they touched on the way down would also be paralyzed, an effect which cascaded along their ranks.

Yet still the horde came. She sang a note into the headpiece of her staff, almost as if it were a microphone. With a strange resonance, though, it formed a globe of golden energy within the halo. She swung it down. The others did the same as she did, as they had done before.

Where the staffs hit, a pulse went off, and a wave of earth swept towards the bandits, sweeping them off their feet.

Yet, even with this, they were too close to the Agents. Much, much too close. She readied-

FWOOOOM!

Four balls of magical energy flew over their heads, and blasted into the front ranks of the hordes.

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK. CLANK. Whiiiiir.

She turned around.

“Holy shit.” The Lady of Golden Light said, in a not so lady-like lapse of delicate language. She could be excused.

There were two of them. They were about seventeen feet tall. Each had a large pod in the center with what looked like two Aucethabi eyes mounted on them. But these were far large than anything the Aucethabi had ever implanted in a human being. They were set to either side of a cockpit, with dark obscuring glass and black metal concealing the drivers. The things had hunched backs, and she could spot a cylinder of glass on their backs, with blue and green crystals grown inside, pulsing with light. Two bandy legs carried these machines, with great big clomping feet that agilely stepped over the rubble, as they walked past her and the obviously impressed Aucethabi.

What the bandits were obviously watching, at this point, were the two big cannons set on the two large arms that hung from the broad, almost flat shoulders. Underneath them, massive hands of three fingers each operated with remarkable dexterity.

The “Demon Trolls” had arrived.

One of them turned around and opened its cockpit. As the quadrants and horizontal bands pulled away, the agents could see Nick hanging in a harness, moving the big mechanical beast with an armature that fit inside the large pod.

Nick turned to Sarah and the Aucethabi, who whirled their spears, and returned to normal.

“Get them out of there. We’ll cover the evacuation. This will get very ugly, very soon.

Back in the crowd, the other agents looked in awe at the machines.
“Where does he get all these wonderful toys?” Rigetti said.
“Hey Nick! Can I get one of those things in red?” Darius yelled out.
“You can get it in whatever color you want, as long as it’s black!” Nick yelled back.

The other one spoke, and anybody who knew him recognized the drill sergeant’s tone in Jake’s voice through the garbling of the things voice box. “Get your asses moving! These things are a thousand years old and we don’t know how good the batteries are.”

Having recovered their senses, the bandits picked about that time to start firing on them.

Darius yelled, “You heard him, move it!”

The agents immediately got the point and started moving out behind the two Demon Trolls. In fact, they were running, though in an orderly manner.

Nick turned back around, and closed himself up in the cockpit again.

The magic attacks bombarded the vehicle, but it’s armor seemed to hold up just fine. Ancient Talleran runes and secret sigils glowed on the surface as they plowed through the assault.

From Jake’s perspective, the machine’s display was pretty primitive. But primitive did not mean ineffective. In lieu of the numbers and reticules, they had cross-spectrum Aucethabi vision, could see through walls, and their targets lit up as they moved their cannons around.

Jake could forgive the imprecision. After all, this thing wasn’t firing thirty-ought-six. It seemed to be firing TK Bursters, telekinetic force packets that unleashed explosive power when they hit something solid.

Like human bodies. After the gruesome damage the first line suffered, the other bandits took cover where they could find it. Nick and Jake walked the machines forward, continuing to fire into their ranks. The Bandits panicked and moved back, but other bandits came forward with shields. The TK Bursters, when they hit those shields, had their energy drawn in and dispersed, so the front ranks of the Bandits once again started to regain the advantage.

Nick and Jake both fired at the pavement instead, letting the stone trigger the blasts and provide the shrapnel. Still they got the idea, and stopped sticking around in close ranks to be cut down.

They then heard a familiar sound-

Screeee- Crack!

A wall blasted apart nearby, and Nick felt his fillings ache. Oh, her again!

Nick raised his cannons, and fired her way. She attempted a couple more shots, weaker and worse aimed than the first, and politely cleared herself out of the way after the blistering return fire came her way.

Then Sepevochef came running down the street. He wasn’t a difficult target. Nick blasted him right in the center mass, took him off his feet.

It surprised nobody when Stoneskin got back up, and resumed his approach. He ducked the next few blasts pretty handily, then came up and smashed his hand into the machinery of Nick’s leg. Nick’s leg fared better than Stoneskin’s fist. Nick’s arm then swung across and smashed Sepevochef through a nearby wall. Left a pretty neat hole there, too!

Before Nick could react, Reculakexus sprinted around slashed his armblades against the machine’s belly. Sharp blades aside, the machine’s armor and warding there was too strong, and Reculakexus’ black blades shattered on impact.

Nick retaliated with a swung arm, which Obsidian just ducked under, jumping away to keep out of the path of that big metal fist.

Sihubaya tried again, firing her ultrasonic forks at him. He raised his weapons and blasted right back.

Jake saw a bright flash from the corner of his eye, and felt the bass note of the thunder like blast.

Hooper had gotten into the game.

He picked a lousy time. The armor of the machine took it full force, and didn’t even singe. The same could not be said for Hooper’s rooftop position, which received Jake’s casual, behind the back response.

Nick was busy laying down suppressing fire on his bandit opponents, and greeting the occasional outburst from Sihubaya. Wasn’t she getting tired of this?

He was asking the same thing about Reculakexus, who rushed at him for additional attacks. Something was different about his blades. Later he would release that his black-glass blades had been made so thin that they were translucent, even transparent in place.

If Nick had seen the smile on Obsidian’s face, he might have realized something was up.

Instead, as Reculakexus acrobatically dodge and swiped at his opponent with those blades, Nick hardly thought of anything than catching the tricky bastard.

That tricky bastard then had the cheek to just stand there. Nick brought up the gun.

It snapped off, leaving him a stump. Obsidian wasted no time. He generated his thin glass blades, stuck them in, forced more glass through the puncture in the armor, turned, let go, and shoved a new set of blades in. He climbed this way up onto the cockpit, where he generated one last long blade, and shoved its way through the hull. Nick watched as the blade lengthened in the cockpit, flowing towards him. He hit the control to open up the cockpit, swung out a surprised Reculakexus, and then grabbed the guy. He re-closed the cockpit.

Reculakexus struggled in his grip. Nick was about to throw him against the nearby wall when thunder pealed from the walls above them.

The agents who were near to the gate scattered as a bolt of concentrated lightning smashed into the ground. He kept them running, seeming to play with them. Nick threw Reculakexus gracelessly aside, without the warning that would have allowed the man a dignified landing. He fired at the position above. That seemed to drive him off, but then two concentrated strokes hit the frame of the gate.

What was he trying to do?

The answer came to him, in a horrifying instant.

The control panel!

The answer came to him, and Hooper’s lightning fried it before he could do a damn thing. Something in the gate broke, and it began falling downwards.

Nick tried to move his machine fast enough, but the machine didn’t handle with that kind of elegance.

The great gate, which their two machines could have cleared, even if one was standing on the other’s shoulders, came rushing down.

Nick was going to be too late. He screamed his defiance and reached for it, this four foot thick blast door.

Then Jake, rushing in from the side, caught it, the massive Demon Troll exoskeleton buckling as it stopped the massive load.

The other agents stood to the side, not knowing what to do.

Jake promptly informed them. “Get your asses going, I can’t hold this motherfucker forever!”

With a bandit army at their heels, they weren’t about to argue with the man, so the rest of them, and their surviving Aucethabi escorts piled through.

Hooper sent another of his shots down at the agents, but Nick quickly positioned himself inbetween, and shot at Hooper with his remaining gun.

Nick looked back. Jake’s Demon Troll was in no shape, true to his words, to continue to take the load. New runes and glyphs glimmered into form on its armor, resisting the buckling of the metal. Even so, the mechanical systems shrieked in protest.

Nick continued to hold off his enemies with his remaining gun. He was in the flow, calmly picking off his enemies with his weapon. It was a second or two before he realized that the last of the agents was through.

“Come on, Nick, get your ass moving!” Jake said. Jake’s machines seemed at its limits.

Nick moved to turn the machine, but boots clanged onto his gun arm, and with a flash of sharp thin black glass, that arm, too, was severed. Reculakexus leaped off, jumped clear of it before it hit the ground.

Then he saw the teenage boy with the hard eyes near the wall. The boy, who others knew as Peysa, and Nick knew as Kat (short for catapult) gestured as if describing a globe, his hands cutting the shape out from the air from top to bottom. Nick couldn’t quite understand what he was doing until he gestured as if to lift something-

-and lifted a large chunk of the marble paving the roads out of the street.

With a push of his hands, he sent the rock flying, hitting Nick’s machine in the chest, knocking it back yards.

He turned both his hands as if moving giant volume knobs, and two chunks of rock were cut out of nearby building.

Peysa pushed, sending the large chunks smashing into the cockpit, cracking the glass.

Jake’s machine buckled to its knees, the unimaginable weight of the loose blast door burdening the machine.

Peysa lifted a huge chunk out of the road, and hurled it into Nick’s Demon Troll. Nick felt the metal beast tip over and smash onto its back.

Everything went dark. But Nick heard, and felt it, as Peysa continued to batter the machine, smashing the walls of the device further and further in on him. The familiar old panic of Nick’s claustrophobia closed in on him.

Nick tried to keep his breathing regular, take deep breathes. Cracks were opening up in the hull, so he wasn’t going to suffocate. He was only going to be crushed. Nick laughed ruefully. He appealed to whatever the thing was in him to help.

Help it did, and suddenly he knew peace. He understood. His moment would come.

And in that moment, elsewhere, deep in the chambers of the Qichelbish Kebyt, Sarah joined her mind to Jake’s, in the Elohim’s communion of minds. She beckoned to her husband.

And her husband answered with regret, a soldier’s farewell.

Jake punched the controls, opened the cockpit. The hands of the machine let the gate come down. Jake burned through the harness, tore out of the armature. The top of the cockpit smashed down on the space he last occupied, as he jumped out. The Demon Troll was smashed flat as tin can, compacted to a few inches of metal and a burst of flying parts.

Peysa thought him an easy target, but was startled to find Jake dodging every shot. A sword materialized in his hand as he approached the wreck of Nick’s Demon Troll. Runes flared on the blade.

Jake lightly stepped over the top of the half buried machine, and quickly performed what seemed to be a complex brandishing of his sword, all done to show off. But as he jumped off, the parts of the machine around Nick slide and fell away. He offered Nick his arm and pulled him up. Jake gestured with two of the pieces, one to throw it in the path of one of Peysa’s volleys, the other to block Sihubaya’s deadly sonic attack.

Peysa sent another big rock their way. Jake just held up one hand, and stopped it. The boulder came to a gentle stop against his hand. Glyphs crackled against its surface, and Jake sent the damn thing rushing back at his opponent.

Peysa smiled. What did the guy think he did all day long?

Only the stone didn’t respond to him, As the stone arced at him, he did something he hadn’t done in over four years: jump out of the way of a huge frickin’ rock.

He scrambled to avoid the debris and the boulder itself as it settled.

The other bandits came barreling through. It seemed Sarah’s barrier had finally fallen. Nick took out a Runecharge and tossed it towards the outer gate.

The men in front reared back, as they saw a bluish runecharge bouncing their way. The others had crushed in behind them, so there was nowhere to go.
It went off.

And froze them in time. Nick loved the Indigos.

Another lightning bolt came from another position. Jake got truly annoyed with that man, and decided to do something about him. He jumped, ran up the wall a few yards, jumped again, and landed in front of Hooper.

Jake raised his hand up and slammed it into Terrence’s chest. Hooper saw a glow flare from his chest, and suddenly felt his strength leave his body. He crumpled in a heap, breathing, but paralyzed. Sealed.

Nick followed him up, jumping to and from convenient footholds and hand holds to find his way up into Jake’s position.

Peysa angrily tried to follow them.
“Peysa!” Sihubaya admonished.
“What?” the teen boy snapped back.
“Do not tempt fate by following him alone.” She advised him.

Reculakexus limped over to his brother.
“Heed her words. Our lovely gem is right. We must be careful of those two.”
“They’re only two men!” Peysa shouted.
“I will tolerate this until the runecharge’s effect cease, brother, and then I will kill you on the spot.” Reculakexus said.

That clammed his jaw up quick.
“We will deal with them on our terms. I will not battle with two Elohim in place of their choosing.”
“I don’t see how we pick the place.” Peysa said quietly.
“We have the Lawmen Petersen and Green. Any place they are is chosen ground.” Reculakexus explained with an indulgent smile.

A voice came out of a hole in the wall. “I don’t know why we’re bothering with these troublesome bastards in the first place.”

Sepevochef stepped out, a little unsteady.

“I told you, cousin, to distract them, not let him swat you like a toy ball.” Obsidian said.

“I was planning on ducking. Maybe you should duck these two assholes, too.”
“As long as it’s just the four of us, then, let me make this clear. Under most circumstances, I would be telling the person who hired us that our services would no longer be available. This is not something you tell the Nephilim, much less one like the Prophet. Besides, they are men. They can become tired, they can be distracted, and they can be discouraged. They are not immortal. They can be killed. And we have an entire army to kill them with.”

“Are their lives worth it, brother?” Sihubaya asked.
“Not one, but we made our obligations.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Reculakexus noticed the ripple of the indigo runecharge’s dissolution. His men were in real time now, so the time for free talk was over. It was time for him

“Gather round, Free Men of the Hills!”

There was an “Oh look, ole Stoneblade’s going to give a speech.” look on their faces. No use arguing with that. The casualties had been high, some tribes’ warriors wiped from the face of Darshiaro. The men were tired, and despondent.

“One never knows who one will face in a battle, not even a battle like today. We were meant to take these lawmen, and teach them the pain of slavery, to take what was theirs as ours. If everything had gone according to plan, we would have seen great riches. But instead were are poorer some of our finest fighters. Yet our job, upon our honor, is not over. Nor would I want it to be.”

Reculakexus grew out one of his blades and pointed to the wreck of the Demon Trolls.

“These are no mere merchants we follow, but two men of real power, one whose name is famous in every corner of the borderlands, one whose name will be if he survives his path through this world. They made an army out of scared lawmen foreign to these lands. They have proven their worth as warriors, as leaders. And they are our enemies. But look upon what you see here!”

Stoneblade looked at the beast. He looked for a part that seemed solid. No use mounting in glory and falling in disgrace.

“If you doubt our chances, though, look at what lies broken beneath my feet! These metal beasts that they rode in! Doubtlessly, they were the work of the Padzhir masters, of long ago. No doubt, many of you saw friends, saw brother and sister fall under this beast’s weapons. But together, we brought them down. Though the Elohim themselves were at their controls, we brought them down! They are not indestructible, they are not immortal. They are men. They are flesh and blood. Their power is great!”

He swatted to the side with his blade, and cut off part of the remainder of the beast’s arm.

“But nobody walks who cannot taste defeat.” Reculakexus said.

He didn’t get their cheers. But he did get the tribe’s grim agreement. With the sun low in the sky, and his own energy below the horizon, he set out for their base camp.

-------------------------------------------------

When he returned, what he thought was going to be a restful night turned into a sleepless one.

He returned to his tent to find three of the four chairs at the table in its center occupied. The tent was good sized, with room to walk around this good-sized table, for servants to come in from the sides and set down food before them.

Such a meal had been prepared, but at first glance seemed to be set in the presence of a boy, and Reculakexus’s two prisoners.

The boy seemed to be around ten years of age, and seemed to be joking in broken English as Obsidian and his three lieutenants. His hair was Viking red, his eyes a blue that sometimes glinted with deeper shades.

The boy looked their way, as they entered, and his eyes seemed to darken for a moment, glisten. When he spoke, the pitch seemed that of a child. The tone was something else entirely. He raised a goblet of wine, and then spoke in perfect English.

“Congratulations, General Sepeverketh, on your great victory. You have destroyed two experimental machines, Conquered a deserted city, Routed an already fleeing force of amateur fighters who you could not prevent from escaping you. And I would be shocked unto death to find out that you actually succeeded in killing Agent Leonard before he reached the central facilities of Qichelbish Kebyt.” The child said.

The Child. The tone of that kid’s voice. This boy knew what wounds he wanted to cut open with those words.

“We have him on the run, Lord Serketh, he will not escape us long.” Reculakexus replied to him.

“No, he will evade your every effort, without my intervention. This I foresee.” The child said in a curt tone.

Peysa started forward, but Reculakexus held up a hand.
“Does that mean we confront him at the Ghostfields?”
“If you wait until the Chyex Paucthex, then you face him not as Agent Leonard, but as Mirisenoch, the Watcher, and you will likely die the brainless dog that you are.”

Rachel felt the silence that followed that, it was so palpable.

For Reculakexus’s part, it was like being told that he was about to pick a fight with Hercules, Gilgamesh, or King Arthur- Mirisenoch was a legend among magic users there in Darshiaro and beyond.

The reason for stopping Agent Leonard before he came to the Ghostfields was clear now.

“If you had informed me of this earlier, we could have concentrated our efforts on him, and him alone. We could have even confronted him in Elbujtheyo.”

“An attack of directed intent would have set off likely even set off Aukesaka’s dull sense of danger. I may have no great love for you and yours, but I am not frivolous with the pieces in my games. Did you not directly attack his friend, and almost get killed for your troubles?”

“That does not make sense to me, Lord Serketh. You gave such orders to Terrence Hooper.” Reculakexus said.

“The evil intent of our dear guest Agent Green was enough to mask Hooper’s particularly lethal hopes. Recall that these are mainly what your kind call gut feelings. I imagine agent Leonard’s feelings would have once been vague, presentiments of danger rather than visions of the evil that could befall him. I heard tell from your men that Hooper was killed by the Elohim. Is this true?”

The last words were spoken with a child’s innocent glee. As sick and twisted as the kid sounded, Rachel wouldn’t have begrudged him that bit of gloating.

Sepevochef walked out, and drug in Terrence’s limp body, kicked him over on his back. The child pushed back his chair and walked around to Terrence’s side. The kid dressed less like some of the Darshiarans she had seen in the towns, and more like an Aucethabi, the Jacket and leggings very much similar to the Elders she had made her trip with.

Which then reminded her. What was this boy she saw? The Serketh that Nick told her about was one of the Elders. Was this kid one of the possessed, those Shokhal she heard about?

Serketh, or his host, bent down and put his small hand to Hooper’s chest. Rachel felt a sudden chill, the hairs on her arms standing on end. Magic-

Hooper gasped so loudly Rachel almost fell out of her chair. The man cursed, the target sounding very much like Jake Riley. Rachel was half hoping that Nick was the one that had put Hooper in his awful state, but Nick seemed an afterthought for the formerly afflicted henchman.

Terrence tried to get up, but as he sat up, Serketh poked two finger under the man’s chin, behind his jaw. That got his attention.

“Explain yourself, piefthauba, or you will wish that I had left you under Aukesaka’s judgment.” Serketh told him.

Evidently, Serketh had a nasty enough reputation that even a psychopath like Hooper wouldn’t cross him. The renegade sang like Pavarotti.

When the agent had performed to his master’s satisfaction, the child withdrew his hand. The brat turned around and looked at her with those odd eyes of his.

“I apologize, my lady, if I am a little rough with my servants. They are barbarians and brigands. They sometimes have problems with simple instructions, and I am forced to clarify things for them.”

Rachel hoped Serketh didn’t feel the need to make any such points with her. Then she caught herself and realized that she could probably put this kid over her knee and spank him.

“I must apologizing for my lie earlier. I am well known for the lengths I go to send my messages to your kind and my own, and I did not know the extent of your knowledge. And I so like to make fresh impressions. So know this: I am Serketh of Greywall, and I know of your friend Agent Leonard’s intentions. I had believed that my first warning would have been heeded, and that he would have let me alone as I originally desired. But given his persistence and his familiar spirit presence, I have changed my mind. I wish to guarantee his company, to give him incentive to arrive at my doorstep.”

“Cut the shit, kid. You’re going to use me as bait.” Rachel said.

Serketh burst out laughing. “I can see why he has such interest in you. I would be interested myself if I weren’t like I am.” He said.

Everybody else, it seemed, let out a breath.

She looked at the expression on the kid’s face, and got an odd feeling about him. The child caught her look and returned a mischievous grin.

“Bring the other prisoner in.” Serketh said.

The other prisoner looked like a girl of the Gate Road’s villages. She was plain, not beautiful or ugly. She had blond hair and brown skin.

The guards who brought her in forced her to kneel before the child.

Serketh caressed the woman’s face with an eerie, empty smile, then looked her in the eyes.

Suddenly, her face contorted in pain. No, contorted with something else, too. Rachel watched in horror as her flesh buckled and warped.

Most horrible of all, though, was the end result. The girl, sobbing, weeping, whimpering, now showed her pain and suffering with Rachel’s own face.

Serketh turned around with a child’s joy on his face.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy my little game.”

--------------------------------------------------

The sleep couldn’t be helped, and neither could the nightmares that came with it. Nick saw the agents who had did, the men he had killed. They crowded around him, bodies rent open with blade and blast.

Nick sat up, noticed Jake looking at him, his eyes concerned.

Nick remembered the last face in that awful dream. The one he dreaded the most.

Hers.

“It won’t get easier. You’ll just get more numb each time.” Jake said, a sad tone in his voice.

“Weren’t we right to do what we did?” Nick asked.
“We were right to save our friends. What did Joshua say about these kinds of things?” Jake asked.
“Something about understanding what we had to do...”
“But wanting us to keep the bloodshed to a minimum.” Jake concluded.

Jake took a breath, and looked at the sky.
“People forget what he said. About mercy and forgiveness. We killed some of God’s children today, and he doesn’t overlook that, even if they were real bastards. We can pretend we are better than them, but that’s bullshit.”

Jake looked back at him.
“We’re expected to do his will, to demonstrate his glory. We’re supposed to do better than mere expedience in the service of obedience.”

“That’s why you didn’t kill Hooper?” Nick asked“Not as if I had great affection for the man.” Jake replied wryly.

“You sound like you’re not done with the reasons.” Nick said.

Jake smiled. “Think about it. Right now, you’re a match for most of the magic users out there. But you won’t stay that for long. In a few days, they’ll have to throw armies at you, get a Nephilim or two on their side, or some other shit to defeat you. And if you’re fight the same guys with the same strength when you don’t have to, what does that make you?”

Nick frowned.

Jake continued. “We weren’t meant to be cosmic bullies, Tyrants and killers with divine backing.”

Nick scowled. “Shouldn’t we be allowed to do what’s necessary?”
“Remember the advice I gave you about Zarrach with your emotions? It still holds. The Nephilim can use your feelings against you. That’s why they have Rachel. Our peace of mind, our peace of heart is part of what makes us strong.”

“Then they chose their victim well.” Nick said. His voice faltered with the last words.

“No. Don’t tell yourself that. Tell yourself they chose the wrong person. The one whose plight would guarantee that you’d embrace your power. If it seems too much to bear, remember that he bears it right beside you. He will show you a way. He did not give you a mission just to set you up to fail. Trust in him.”

Laying back, Nick decided to take Jake’s advice. He had no idea how difficult his resolution would turn out to be.

-------------------------------------------------

That morning, they started the journey out of Qichelbish Kebyt, down the streets that hugged the line of the bluish, snowcapped mountains.

An interesting false alarm helped speed the pace of their travel. At some point as they walked the rubble covered streets, Jake decided to take them on some unexplained detour into a side street. When the detour was complete, Nick observed the obvious: They were right back where they started.

“Look down.” Jake said.

Nick did. In the dust and debris, mud and dirt, their footprints were joined by that of a great beast. A Lethjirool.

“We’re being stalked by riders, perhaps.”
“Perhaps? Shouldn’t you know for sure?”
“I’m not all-seeing, fella. I could perhaps remote view it, but if they’re near, I don’t want to leave myself open to attack.” Jake said.

Nick looked at him for a second, then scrambled up a convenient building, despite Jake’s protests. Up on the roof, he spotted his pursuers. And smiled.

He dropped down next to John, and told him. When John asked him whether he was sure that the Lethjirool would be useable, Nick told him not to worry. He had experience in handling them.

It wasn’t long, then until they came to the outskirts of town. The creatures were of the packs that were bought for the Agent’s use, so they already recognized and quite enthusiastically greeted Nick and Jake. Smelling like giant dog, the two of them mounted their new Dogsteeds.

The line of buildings stretched out towards the outer wall of the city, or rather what remained of it. From there, if you could really draw a clear distinction between forest and city in the city’s condition, the forest of the mountain ridge began.

They were almost to that when the voice called out from above.

The bandit whose name was Yuftha Bahulyaf, was told that his actions would gain him the favor of Serketh.

He dragged the dark-haired woman roughly behind him, her struggles adding to frustrations that probably made the thought of what he was about to do more palatable. His plan, once he was through, was to escape across the interconnected rooftops. He had his climbing equipment, his grapnels.

That he did not stalk ordinary men did not enter his thoughts. He wasn’t too terribly familiar with the Elohim, nor did he think he needed to be. He had earned his name, Reaching Hand, for the ambition of his crimes, and all the spoils of victory he managed, mostly through the efforts of others.

Bahulyaf was angling to gain the favor of the Demon Lord, to replace Reculakexus in Serketh’s favor. If he had known that Obsidian had agreed to this willingly, he might have reconsidered what he was about to do.

He wasn’t given this task by Serketh for his intelligence. He was given it because he was willing to do things others were not.

They saw him at the edge of the roof. And her.

“Rachel!” Nick called out.

The woman shook her head, but the man’s hand was over her mouth, and muffled her cries. The other hand held a knife to her throat.

“Let her go! Don’t hurt her or I’ll-“

“Lord Serketh”, The man bellowed “Wishes you to know the price of your curiousity!”

A flash of the knife.

A flood of red.

She fell. And hit. Too loudly.

“No!” Nick screamed, and spurred his mount towards her. But something caught in him. He couldn’t get any closer. Not with the blood and tangled limbs.

With a cry of rage, he leapt from the back of his Lethjirool and ascended recklessly along the wall to the rooftop.

If the man thought he was getting away, he had another thing coming. Nick had already relentlessly closed on his position, closed the distance, even as he was leaping upwards towards the rooftop.

The man looked back in shock to find Nick almost on top of him. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Nick’s hand fell on his shoulder, and his fist on the man’s jaw. Nick fell on him in a rage, hammering him.

But then, suddenly, a force yanked him back.

As he flew back, though, he saw the swing of the man’s fist. Then Jake stepping in to catch that arm, and seal the man who it belong to.

But sealing was too good for that man, Nick thought, and rushed at him.

Jake caught him, though and held him back.

“Let me go!”
“Did you forget what I said?”
“He killed her! He murdered her!” Nick sobbed and raged.
“Yes, he did. Look at his fist.”

There was some sort of weird, barbed blade in his hand.
“That is a curseblade. A Recaathabetauf, as the Aucethabi call it.”
“Open bleeder?”
“If he had stuck that fucking thing in you, you couldn’t have used your magic once without that wound starting to bleed again. It would have taken a miracle, or a trip back to earth to get that thing out without you dying of blood loss and worse.” Jake told him.

“Yet you hold me back.”
“That’s a sorcerer’s weapon. Serketh gave it to him so he could give it to you. Do you think you could have saved her with that thing in your side?”
“Save her? What the-“

“She’s still alive, Nick.” Jake said.
“How?” Nick asked, a quaver in his voice.

------------------------------------------------

Nick finally got the nerve to look closely at the body. Blonde hair. The fall had distorted the face, but not so terribly much that he could recognize who this girl wasn’t.

Nick might have pointed out to Jake, then, that Rachel might be dead somewhere else.
But he didn’t have the heart to say that. Or to believe it. Even so, as he looked at the blood spattered corpse, he knew what he could say, or could do.

“He still must pay.” Nick said.

The man lay sealed at Jake’s feet, where Jake had unceremoniously dropped him after landing from their flight.

“Do you want vengeance,” Jake said, “or something better?”
“Better for who?” Nick asked.
“All concerned.” Jake replied.

Nick was doubtful about it, but he agreed. Jake told him he could take out his bow, and Nick gladly did.

Jake raised the sealed man from the ground with a gesture of his hand, and with a palm-out gesture, unsealed him.

“Don’t run.” He immediately warned, gestured towards Nick.
“Mr. Riley tells me I need an excuse before I can shoot you.” Nick said.

Bahulyaf stopped turning away. Jake addressed him.

“You killed this woman in cold-blood. We both witnessed it. Under our treaty with the Aucethabi, both Agent Leonard and myself are considered agents of the law. We are within our rights to give you a summary execution.”

Jake walked closer to him. “I have a better idea of how to exact penance on you, but this is something that you must agree to of your own free will. You must agree to it, and I must advise you of its nature before I lay it upon you.”
“I’m not scared of your cheap tricks.” Bahulyaf said defiantly.
“Nick?”

The agent nocked an arrow to his bow and raised it with blinding speed.

Bahulyaf drew back and raise his hands. “What do you want of me?”

“This is a mortal spell. Only crimes like yours merit my even considering their use. It will kill you if you choose to ignore my conditions.” Jake said.

“Your conditions?”
“You are to journey several days into the mountains, through the forest. The winds will chill you, but you will not freeze. The sun will burn you, but not strike you down. No creature will touch you, nor man be able to take your life, But pain shall be your lot, and death will be the only alternative to your pain. When you at last come to the lands of the Kabacahuk tribe, they will grant you a boon you might not get had you trespassed on your own, but they will see my mark upon you, and will know where to take you.”

“Where will they take me?” the man asked, afraid.

“They will take you to the Tree of Contemplation, the Pebaho Bochbaupheq. There, you will serve a standard term, as the Aucethabi define it. Do you agree to this?”

Bahulyaf nodded.

“Very well.” Jake said. Jake held out his hand, and a glyph marked the man, glowing on his forehead like one of Jake’s seals. “Go now, and leave our sight and start your penance, or you will not live out the day.”

When the bandit was out of earshot, Nick turned towards Jake.

“The Tree of Contemplation?” Nick sarcastically asked.

“First, our contestant gets a trek through the some of the most dangerous and hazardous territory Darshiaro has to offer. Then at some point, he crosses the ward.” Jake said.

“Wait, I thought- isn’t that going to make him immortal?” Nick asked.
“Of course it is. Otherwise the next part would just be an elaborate death sentence. We were clear that we were sparing this man’s life, right?”
“But-“
“No buts about it. Next part works better without the easy way out.” Jake said.

“What do you mean?” Nick asked.

Jake looked him straight in the eye.
“A standard Aucethabi term is about a hundred years. He’ll survive those hundred years, but they won’t keep him in a prison of reinforced concrete and steel bars. The Tree of Contemplation is actually a vine that grows on older, stronger trees. While some trees would discourage other such vines through chemical defenses, the Tree of Contemplation shares its nutrients with the other tree.” Jake said.
“Fascinating. But wouldn’t that make them symbiotic?” Nick asked.

“I didn’t say the trees were the victims.” Jake replied.

There was a moment there, as Nick absorbed the meaning of that statement.

“What are we talking, a century of being eaten alive?” Nick ventured.
“At minimum, but that’s not what’s going to make it punishment.” Jake replied.

Nick looked at him. “Go on, tell me the rest. I’m sure there’s some catch.”

“The catch is that time is subjective in that vine’s embrace, and what that thing feasts on, are the memories of your life, which over the century…“ Jake started.

“They contemplate?” Nick interjected, a mischievous smile on his face.
“Well yes. How did you ever figure that out?” Jake replied facetiously.

He continued.

“The Elders that I know who took that embrace describe it as being like waking from a dream again and again to find that it’s not over. If one has a guilty conscience, or if a particular matter gnaws at them, they either resolve those matters, or repent of them at their leisure. That’s what this guy gets to do for the next hundred years. Then he gets to remember that lovely experience for the rest of his rather lengthy life.”

That was it. Nick sat there for a moment taking it in.

“You can be a real son of a bitch when you put your mind to it.”
“Oh, I do my best.” He said with a crooked smile. Then he turned serious.

“There are things we can do to people, Nick, that are far worse and far better than death. You’ll learn your share of them.”

-------------------------------------------------

They spurred their mounts on. There wasn’t any time to lose. The Lethjirool agilely negotiated the uneven mountain trails, at times seeming to almost hang on the rock walls as they scrambled across them like mountain goats.

Months ago, and it seems like years, Nick would have been clinging to the creature for dear life. Now he just felt the rush, even though his worry and concern about Agent Petersen put a damper on whatever thrill he felt.

Nick saw her fall, in his mind’s eye, saw the blood flow. Though he knew what he saw was a fraud, the incident made his heart feel like it was crushed in a vice.

He had his second thoughts about the punishment that Jake had handed out. Did he think of himself as distinct, different from this man, who seemed determine to spare even the guilty? Or were they the same? Could he carry such a burden, stand not to be able to exact vengeance?

They knew that the camp wasn’t far.

His Elohim senses had developed more. As they approach, the nexus of fates and destinies felt to him like a magnet might feel to another, lines of force flowing along the trails, things twisting and coiling around that place.

Later on, he would remember one important thing that he had sensed at the time, and thought nothing of. As complicated as the place felt from the distance, not much about it felt like it was moving.

As they closed in, and rushed past the sentry posts, they found them empty. Nick didn’t need to be psychic to feel unease as he passed those perimeters by.

When they finally showed up at the camp, all they found was a field of garbage, and hastily pulled-up stakes. With quite a few thousand gone, it made for quite a mess. The place could have double for Woodstock, if the weather were just a little wetter, and the music acts just a little more there.

Jake and his Dogsteed criss-crossed the field, both behaving like bloodhounds that had just found a huge pile of stink all in one place.

“This has got to be the sorriest excuse for an army camp that I have ever seen. Watch your step if you dismount, nobody properly taught these guys how to make a camp latrine.”

“Thanks for telling me. Anything else useful you can see?”

Jake pointed his thumb behind him. “Well, I think they went thataway.”

Nick looked past him to the huge trail of muddy rutted pathways and trampled vegetation.

“Okay, useful and surprising.”

“Try the fact that they’re going to have to take a huge detour not far up ahead, at least if they want to keep their army together.” Jake said.

“How do you figure that?” Nick asked.

Jake pointed up ahead at the mountains in the distance.

“Path narrows up there, makes it difficult for parties larger than a few dozen to pass safely at a time. Unless they wanted to stretch their troops thin like pulled taffy, they’d take the lower route through the valley.” He said.

“The slower route.” Nick said.
“We can out run them, intercept whoever’s got Rachel.”

If they still had her.