Breaking Away (The Man in the Shadows) (19 page)

Once his eyes locked with hers, she couldn’t tear them away. As she struggled with the realization that she was caught, Ethan could see Zareh pulling one way, and the dark demon that possessed her pulling the other, like she had two heads, vibrating and shimmying, with looks of pain and determination on both of the two distinct faces, both entirely see through, her body wanting to rip in half to accommodate them both.

Deep in his gut, Ethan became frightened for Zareh, afraid that the act of pulling the demon from her would kill her. But somehow, he knew he had to try to break her free from whatever claimed her body, so she could break away and run to him and wrap him in an embrace. So things would be one step closer to being normal again. He felt like it was his fault she was in this predicament, so he had to set her free. In its own way, the very fact that he put all the blame on himself tore him into two, as well.

Now that the possessed Zareh was temporarily occupied with this struggle, James held a hand out and a lightning bold fired from his finger like a bullet; it hit Zareh with so much force it flung her backwards, like she had been hit by a speeding car. She hit the bed hard, as the place where the lightning bolt had struck smoldered, burning a hole in her shirt and smoked like a doused camp fire.

“James!” Ethan yelled in dismay. “Stop... I’m...”

Ethan’s voice went unnoticed as James stepped further into the room, and closer to Zareh. Before James could strike her again, Maika ran up behind him and grabbed his shoulders with all of her strength. He stumbled backwards as she yelled, “Please James, don’t hurt her!...”

The last person to set foot in the room was Emily. All three of her companions were cast aside or their attentions were pointed elsewhere, so she took advantage of being solitary and calmly stepped over the threshold, her stocking covered feet and frilly skirt covering the fact that she was, in reality, a cold calculating killer. She held both of her hands in front of her chest like she was grasping onto an invisible pole of some sort. Gradually, her eyes glittering and that killer smile coming to her face once more, something began to materialize in her mimed gesture, speck by speck, piece by piece, until she held her favorite weapon, her war sword. She felt like she was imperceptible to everyone in the room, and that was okay with her. It would give her plenty of time to savor the moment, to avenge her fellow soldier’s deaths, to avenge her
own
death, to set the Empire back to neutral. She had spent her entire resurrected life awaiting this moment; Audra had been lying in wait, unbeknownst to Emily. All these years, she never imagined it would happen, but it was now here.

Lifting the sword in front of her face so that the hilt was next to her nose, she kissed it slowly for good luck.
Hello, old friend,
she chimed, studying the engravings upon the golden handle.
Don’t let me down.

Audra then arrived at the side of the bed, at the side of the fallen girl, still smoldering, the smell of burning flesh reaching her nostrils, to her displeasure. “Poor soul,” she whispered, as she lifted the hefty cutlass above her head, then brought the blade down in a stabbing motion combined with a blood curdling scream that one would only learn as a professionally trained killer.

All heads turned to her, all motion and action ceased besides the swinging of her sword. She stabbed Zareh in the heart and triumphantly pulled the blade out with an awful thud and squish, the shimmering blade dulled and smeared with blood.

“NOOO!!” Maika screamed, and let go of James black jacket. Falling to her knees, grief took over the core of her being. Her scream was cut short when she noticed something peculiar as she looked upon Zareh’s bloody body. A substance rose from her and broke into two pieces, like tearing a piece of bread in half. It looked like... a spirit!

One side tore away and glowed a magnificently brilliant purple, and Maika knew that half was Zareh. Tears rolled down her face, but she smiled through them. Zareh’s soul could now be... how did James put it?... Recycled. She could be born again now! But the opposite side of the spirit was that of a dim, pulsing black blob, like a blotch of ink that leaked onto a school girl’s desk from an inkwell. Zareh’s spirit flew away as fast a sprite in the forest, but the black glob stayed put, right next to the bed on which Zareh’s body had died. Not only did it stay, but it grew taller, then transformed and morphed into the shape of a person.

Maika and Ethan gasped sharply, as James rose from Maika’s side to his full height and smiled sinisterly.

“High Lord Lamin. I’ve been awaiting your arrival. High General Berg, at your service.”

As if breaking the surface of an oil laced pond, Lamin’s face became clearer, but just as dark. His long, black hair was swept over one shoulder, as shiny and beautiful as the deep dusky coat of a lynx. Running his tongue over his teeth slowly, he smacked it against the roof of his mouth, making a
pop
noise, and smiled. The smile revealed the vast amount of immorality that made its home in him, that had multiplied and been reinforced over the years. His arms rose from his sides, his black cloak spreading out like the deadly wings of a vulture, his fingers curled and stiff like an old man with crippling arthritis.

Conjured up out of thin air, suddenly his curled up fingers on each hand held a crystal ball; they were twins in every way, being the same size, color, and luster. Inside each was a swirling, raging eye, much like the magnificent, ever churning storm spot on Jupiter had done for thousands of years. Laughing now, Lamin’s eyes resembled those of a lunatic, and his true iniquitous nature came shining through, casting fear into the eyes of his onlookers.

All except one. James stood strong, his smile unfading, feeling uncharacteristically giddy. Repeating in his head was,
I can explain more later... But I know everything. I don’t know how, but I do.
Over and over again, and each time it built him up. He knew parts of this
everything
Audra had been talking about. However, the most important part was that he was not to blame... he’d been blackmailed. By Lamin. This man had killed his wife, seduced his sister, and sent him off to die in an alternate world. Though he did not know or understand the details, he did know this... it was time to use the Magi against its creator.

“James. I see you figured out how to come back to Monde de Lumière without making use of the door.” His eyes flashed, amused. “Congratulations. I underestimated you, being the champion of fools that you are.”

His mind racing, James did not move a muscle, nor allow himself to become emotional at such a juvenile taunt. “What a deviant, sly dog you are, High Lord. Too bad you wasted your talents on lies and deceit.”

Lamin snorted, his patience growing short. “This may be too generous of me, but before I take you and your band of groupies down, I’d like to offer you a chance to defect.”

In a full blown honking laugh, James bent backwards, yelping at the ceiling in laughter, holding his sides with his hands. “Oh, Lamin,” James suddenly shouted, taking himself out of his raging laugh and walking forward, his fingers abuzz with electricity. “How dare you.”

Before Lamin could step to the side, James leapt into the air, the electricity still stirring in his fingers. As he rose into the air, he stayed there, levitated, like a pouncing tiger. He brought his hands together, combining the electrical bolts forming in both hands into one super circuit. Taking in a breath, the ball of blue flame building within his hands grew to the point that it spilled out from between his clasped fingers, in rays that splashed onto the walls and the onlookers faces like a disco ball at a high school dance. Still flying in the air, like he was in an antigravity machine, he thrust the ball at Lamin, which set his cloak aflame.

Screaming, Lamin took the two crystal balls and threw them into the air, similar to how one would serve a volleyball, and they too, like James, floated in the air, like they were underwater. Whilst the balls floated, Lamin whipped off his cloak in one graceful motion, threw it to the floor, held out his hands again, and the balls dropped into them. When each ball touched down on the palms of his hands, an amazing feat occurred. James was knocked out of the air by some intangible force, and since he was a good ten feet aloft, he fell awkwardly to the ground, twisting his ankle as he met the floor with a harsh
thud
.

“So, you thought you had me figured out, did you?” Lamin breathed, as he approached the injured James, throwing the balls back into orbit. They hovered near Lamin at all times, even when he bent down to study James’s face. “If my sending you to Earth for no good reason has made you bitter, I offer you my sincerest apologies. I never meant to do harm to you.” Raising an eyebrow, he explained, “I meant to kill you, but Greta would have nothing of it. So, you can thank her for your misery.”

“Don’t you blame Greta for this, it’s your
greed
that’s been at work here.” James began formulating a spell in his mind as he spoke. He wanted to, in a carnal rage, just punch Lamin in the face with his bare hand as hard as he could, but he knew mere physical strength was no match for powers as great as what Lamin wielded. But what were those crystal balls?

“We all know that you killed your own father to become the High Lord of the Monde,” James continued, calmly. “No one said anything because they knew you’d just kill anyone who got in your way. You’re no Lord. You’re a ruthless, cold dictator. You don’t care one little ounce about the kind, generous, gentle people of this Empire. You would see them all in chains before you’d give up your quest to become their overlord. And you wanted my regiments to get to the other side of the mountains so you could expand your reach with the dark creatures that lurked there, didn’t you?”

James smirked then, surprised that Lamin had listened to his whole speech without magically ripping him to shreds. He cocked his head to the side and thrust it forward, spitting in Lamin’s arrogant face.

A fury as deep and as hot as Hell boiled over in Lamin at that moment. He stood up with force, his charred hair flying backwards, his hat lost on the floor. Eyes unblinking, his staff materialized in his hand and he raised it as high as his arm would allow. The crystal at the apex shined a dark red, and so did the two crystal balls that were orbiting Lamin.

Soon, the beautiful, majestic room of luxury began to physically spin. A wind picked up and swirled around like a whirlpool, scattering papers and golden ropes and pillows all about. Maika fell back on her hands, bracing herself, frightened that the wind might literally lift her off of the ground and send her spinning out into oblivion. Feeling a hand on hers, she whipped her head around frantically.

Ethan.

Like a puppy who had thought she’d never see her owner again, she jumped to him, their arms intertwining. Crawling against the current of the ever increasing gale, Ethan slide himself and Maika into a hiding spot, behind a nearby bureau. Catching a glimpse of the scene before ducking behind the heavy wooden chest of drawers, he noticed that the girl he knew as Emily was still out there, now sitting on the bed, hands in her lap, a look of contented joy on her face, placed between the High Lord and James. Knowing Emily was no longer just a friend, but a different person entirely, he did not feel inclined to go save her. Deep down, he knew she would save herself when the time was right.

A force, a frenzy of indignation fueled this tightly contained hurricane and James held his ground, although it became harder and harder to do so. All of his muscles tightened and he hunched over moderately in order to stay standing in the mighty winds of vehemence. How in the world was he supposed to stop winds bordering on hurricane force? Deciding to add fuel to the fire, he conjured up even more ferocious storm elements. Rain, hail, and lightning ripped through them violently, but Lamin didn’t even flinch.

Rabidly, Lamin roared, “Is that all you’ve got, High General? I gave you the Magi, for the gods’ sake... in 25 human years you didn’t figure out how to use it?”

Infuriated, James could not contain his emotions any longer. All of the misfortunes that he had fought through, with little more than a blip in his history running through his head like a film reel on fast forward, he braced himself against the storm, clenched all of his muscles and screamed, releasing a spell he had been reluctant to enact. Through the ceiling crashed the last thing that Lamin had expected. Orcs.

Here’s a taste of your own medicine!
James thought as he glanced upwards, water running down his face and neck, his hair plastered to his forehead. The great ceiling began to crack and fall away, and lizard like claws protruded through. Within seconds, more than claws appeared; first little hands, then the fur covered dragon-like faces emerged, and they were angry. Up until James cast this spell, the orcs were under the exclusive rule of the High Lord himself. But now, taken over by the Magi, they were working for the side of good, and wanted to destroy the dark man standing below them.

“No,” James answered finally, one corner of his mouth curving up.

Before he knew what was happening, the hurricane force storm stopped, thrusting him face first to the floor. The orcs climbed down the ceiling and the walls, but with the snap of Lamin’s fingers, they all turned to stone.

With another snap of the fingers, James shook violently on the floor, feeling like something was being sucked from him, taken from him by force. His mind flashed back to the day he was sent out on his secret mission to Earth, and the Magi was given to him by, who else, Lamin.
Fast, like a door being slammed by the wind, James’s eyes shut and his jaw clenched involuntarily. He gasped and shook violently for a second.
Gasping for air, he sat up, but all of the strength was drained from him. Devastated, he was stripped of his power. The Magi was gone.

Depredated, James looked over at Lamin who, though he looked worse for wear, was as happy as a clam. His smile, that usually appeared evil, was now full of pure joy. “I made you,” his voice boomed. “Did you not think I could unmake you just as easily?”