Elvendude (37 page)

"Don't know," Adam replied. "Might go either way. I don't feel anything safe or threatening about this stairwell."
Which way did he go? Out the exit, or down the stairs?

"Banzai," Adam said with a shrug.

Adam advanced down the stairs, stopping at the U-turn it made, then waved for the others to follow. Red lights glowed in the fixtures, bathing the hall in crimson light. Smoke detectors had been installed every few feet or so.
Strange.

Dark, Unseleighe magic flowed up from the basement, wafting past him like the stench of a sewer. Adam upped the node flow to his shields, both to filter out the foul magical odor of the place and to see if his nodes were still accessible. It did, and they were. He wiped the sweat off his palms, his temples pounding.

On a certain level, he felt like he'd passed into Underhill. This was only an illusion, enhanced by the Unseleighe forces putrefying down here. There was something else waiting for him, something powerful and alien, something greater than Zeldan. And Zeldan had control of it.

At the foot of the stairs he found another hallway—white painted cinder blocks and a waxed floor, the scent of old office insulation, and something that had died. Red lights lit this passage as well, giving the hallway a squared-off blood-vessel look.

From a doorway stepped a small, black demon.

Ghostlike, the transparent apparition strolled to the center of the hallway, folded its arms, and stopped. Through the being, Adam saw the cracks in the tile, the edge of the wall; the critter itself looked like a cartoon character.

The creature said nothing as it extended a finger toward Adam, then drew it back in a hook.

Follow me.

This seemed wrong, dangerous. Adam looked behind him to consult Sammi or Marbann, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Instead he found Zeldan Dhu preparing another levin bolt, this one directed toward his unprotected back.

The elven King spun around, aiming his weapon at the Unseleighe. A levin bolt shot from Zeldan's right hand; Adam reached for the nodes and pulled the trigger.

The weapon spat a beam of red light, which caught the bolt head-on, splitting it in two. The halves caught the walls on either side; the bolt's concussion threw him backward, amid a shower of concrete fragments.

Adam landed on the floor, sliding a good distance on the waxed surface. Zeldan's laugh echoed down the hallway, but it seemed strained, as if he knew the victory was incomplete.

Adam checked his shields, found them intact, but weakening.

Where the hell are the rest?
Then he heard a gunshot, which may or may not have been the Glock.
They may have problems of their own by now.

He regretted coming down here. They'd had no idea what waited for them, and Zeldan had plenty of time to set traps. It was starting to look like one or more had already been sprung.

Agony ripped through his left arm when he moved. He looked down to find a long, bleeding gash in his biceps.
Damn,
he muttered, bringing the weapon up despite the pain. Though scratched and dented after the last bolt, the lights on the display remained lit. But Zeldan was no longer in the hallway.

Zeldan, where the hell are you?
he thought, getting up. The sight of his own blood, Tuiereann blood, angered him; it reminded him of all the Avalon clan blood that had already been spilled.
And you are not going to spill any more!

When he got to his feet, Adam discovered another injury; his right ankle was sprained, possibly worse. He hobbled down the hallway toward Zeldan's last position. Behind a door, someone pounded.

"Spence, is that you?" he shouted.

"We're locked in here," came the muffled reply. "Use your weapon to blast this thing open. Sammi's Glock just dents it."

Adam stepped away from the door, glancing behind him for any surprises there.

"Stand back," Adam said, and pulled the trigger. The beam arced from the mouth of the weapon and carved a narrow gash near the doorknob. He ran the beam across the bolt; something heavy and metal dropped on the other side, and the door swung open.

Spence, Sammi and the rest of the crew charged through. "I sensed Zeldan," she said. "Is he—"

"He was here," Adam said. "This way."

"Your arm," Moira said as she caught up with him. "We need to look at that."

Adam shook his head. "No time. It's not serious," he said, trying not to make the limp too obvious. "He has Daryl down here somewhere."

From the other end of the hall came a distant whimpering. Adam and Sammi exchanged looks.

"That didn't sound like Daryl," Sammi said.

Backs against the wall, they crept up on a doorway. A bar of white light fell on the opposite wall. Shadows passed through the light, a lambent, flickering illumination, not electric in origin. Adam clutched the weapon to his chest.

The whimper came again, louder, nearer.

Adam peered slowly into the room.

Daryl lay on a table, shivering violently, his arms and legs tied down with straps. He seemed to be asleep, or in a coma, and glistened with sweat. Behind him was computer equipment and a series of large crystals, including one the size of a computer monitor, in the center of the floor. The crystals glowed brightly, outshining the flickering bare fluorescents in the ceiling. A light source from within the computer equipment shone with the intensity of ten halogens; from within these, Adam felt a strong, concentrated power. Like a node, but with pain.

Against one wall was a Gate glowing a dull red, similar to the one Adam had used recently to travel to Underhill, but reeking of Unseleighe magic. Adam felt the Gate, which was of a rather inefficient design, pulling vast amounts of energy from the artificial nodes.

It's the stored agony that fuels the Unseleighe's Gate. And Daryl is the source.
The crystals drew off tendrils of light, like fog off the surface of a lake, from Daryl and the table he was tied to.
A pain collector. And with Daryl in withdrawal, he should be a fine source of pain.
Adam shuddered as he tracked his weapon across the room, looking for Zeldan.

Has he already gone through the Gate to Underhill?

In one corner of the room was a large wooden pallet loaded down with more paper packages like the ones he saw upstairs.

Though Adam didn't see him, Zeldan's voice boomed through the room.

"The sky opened up, and Gabriel tore loose with horns of brass. And Armageddon was here. And the black Eagle saw the ruined castle, and all the dead within waited for the might to take the palace."

Zeldan stepped from behind one of the big computer cabinets. Adam brought his weapon around. The Unseleighe held a young elf by the arms, using her as a shield.

"King!" Wenlann screamed out. "They have . . ."

Wenlann? How did . . . we left them alone. No, no no . . . 
Adam thought, and Zeldan brought her up to head level.

"What's wrong, King? Aren't you going to
shoot
?"

He hesitated before pulling the trigger. "Zeldan.
Haven't you killed enough of us
?"

The Unseleighe laughed hollowly. "I didn't think so." He walked over to the table Daryl was tied to and looked down in mock sympathy.

"Do you know what Armageddon is, young King?" Zeldan inquired. Adam didn't reply. "Armageddon is the end of your world. It has just begun."

The Unseleighe was making no sense, though he'd heard the previous few sentences somewhere else.
And all the dead within waited for the might to take the palace. I know that . . . but where is it from?

"Ah. I see you've brought friends. Come in, please," Zeldan said. Adam sensed Sammi, Moira, Marbann and Spence behind him, hesitating in the hallway. "Rathand, please come in with our other captive."

Another elf came in from the rear of the computer room. Adam didn't see who they were until they got past the bank of computer equipment; tied and gagged, Petrus looked up in panic.

"These two children will also provide us with a nice source of pain. We will begin by replacing their bindings with steel wire. For starters."

"Damn you," Adam muttered. Behind him, Sammi gasped.

"Damn
me?
" Zeldan said, leaning on the table with both hands. "
You
are the one to blame in all this. You ruined our plan, which would have only destroyed human minds. Now I'm afraid you've just pushed me,
Tuiereann.
" He regarded the Gate momentarily. "My Unseleighe helpers have already returned to Underhill. Mort, despite the delight he took in tormenting this poor lad, has also passed through. Reluctantly, I might add. Cruz is just going to have to find reliable help among the pathetic humans."

Daryl groaned loudly, and a wide tendril of light flared, shot into the equipment. Zeldan's expression turned to pure hate. "You've forced me to send my people back to our new home of Avalon. There we will regain our strength and come back and kill you,
all
of you!"

He's retreating. I can't let him take our people with him!

Zeldan continued, "You've forced me to take hostages, and what kind of an Unseleighe would I be if I didn't take advantage of the situation?"

Adam took a step forward, then brought the weapon up, aiming for Zeldan's chest. Wenlann looked away. "Release them.
All
of them." Adam said.
I know I can hit him. The aim isn't great on this thing, but I might get an easy shot.
"Or I'll blow you away."

Zeldan regarded him with amusement. "You have lived with the humans too long, haven't you?" he said, snickering. " 'Blow me away'? What, precisely, does that
mean,
young King?"

The Unseleighe had dropped Wenlann to waist level. Adam had a clear shot at his head.

I'll show you,
Adam thought as he pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

What?!
He tried again, with the same results. On the weapon's stock was an liquid crystal display, which read, "Low Battery."

"Awww. It's
broken,
" Zeldan said, stepping from behind the table. "I suppose I'm just going to have to kill this defenseless little elf. Or take you captive and hook you up to my crystals, like Daryl here."

Adam looked up in time to see power shooting from the crystals into Zeldan's hand. The equipment behind him blazed with intense, yellow light, outlining the Unseleighe like the setting sun.

He had only enough time to reinforce his own shields, hoping they would take most of the hit and protect those behind him; when it did hit, he caught a brief glimpse of the computer room, afire with node energy, moments before the levin bolt carried him out of it.

Adam came to sitting against the wall. The bolt had knocked ceiling tiles off, which had settled around him like a nest. The impact had also knocked out the lights; the hallway was dark.

Zeldan spoke to someone in the computer room, perhaps the other elf Adam had seen earlier. Adam looked at his weapon, which he'd somehow hung on to during the blast.
Low Battery. Great.
He opened up the plate that held the two nine-volt batteries, removed them, and started sifting through the ceiling debris.

Marbann lay a few feet away; his chest moved slowly with his breathing.
Alive.
Sammi and Moira were also making some attempt to move. Spence was some distance down the hall, not moving at all.

They're injured. But if I don't kill Zeldan now, we're all dead meat!

He found a smoke alarm, then another, on the floor. Several more of the detectors dangled from the partially destroyed ceiling.

The voices within the computer room ceased, and as Adam ripped the batteries out of the smoke detectors and inserted them in his own weapon, he sensed someone standing in the doorway.

It was the other elf.
Is he Seleighe? A traitor?
Adam did not recall his being at Avalon. Instead of the dark hair of the Unseleighe, he was blond, like an Avalon elf, and had the distinctive Seleighe nose. He just didn't look like one of Zeldan's clan.
Outremer, perhaps? What did Zeldan call him—Rathand?

Rathand, the elf, looked directly at Adam, who slowly struggled to his feet.

"No, Zeldan," Rathand said, addressing the Unseleighe in the computer room. "They're still out cold. I hope you didn't kill them."

"And what would it matter if I
did?
" Zeldan roared. Rathand gave Adam another look, one he did not know how to interpret, then went back into the room.

The "Low Battery" message had gone away; with as much stealth as he could manage, and with the pain he was in after the new set of injuries he didn't have time to assess, Adam crept over to the door once again. Pain shot through his right leg; he bit his tongue to keep from screaming, and tasted blood for his trouble.

We can't let him Gate,
Adam thought, glancing over at Marbann, who was still out cold.
If Zeldan gets away, we'll have this to look forward to all over again.

Adam closed his eyes for a moment and reached for the nodes. The thin flow he had used before changed somewhat, feeding him a much stronger stream.

Marbann,
Adam thought, glancing back at his mentor, who still appeared to be unconscious. The King knew better.
He's down, but he's using everything he's got left to bridge more energy to me.

The nodes came into his mental view clearly, cutting through his pain like an anesthetic; the power hummed through his body, healing his injuries, mending his ankle, and knitting the wound in his left biceps, which had reopened during the last impact.

The King sensed a change in the computer room. His manipulation of the node energy had apparently not gone unnoticed.

"Rathand.
Rathand?
What
was
that?"

Another presence, tugging at a corner of his mind.
Sammi. Bridging as well.
The stream of node power widened, and Adam started to wonder if he would be able to handle it all. He felt the power spreading out, between himself, Marbann, Sammi, and now Moira; the images were dim shadows in the hallway, but he knew they were aware, they were helping him draw on the nodes. A vast pool of node energy formed, waiting to be unleashed.