Game Alive: A Science Fiction Adventure Novel (17 page)

Jake tore out his sword and ran forward to meet Torin as the dragon vaulted back into the sky, screeching angrily as she climbed into the thin clouds. Torin charged forward with his axe. Des was a step behind Jake.

“You let her go!” shouted Jake when he and Torin were only six feet apart.

“Jake, Des!” Kari turned toward them, and the boys saw the streaks of tears on her terrified face. “Tell them I don’t know! Tell them I don’t know what it is!”

“How did you know?” demanded Alys in the same instant. “How could you possibly know to be here?”

And then Torin and Jake crashed together, sword blade meeting axe with a ringing clang of steel. They each stepped back, ready to swing again, when Alys threw up one hand and screamed at Torin to wait.

“I must know how you came to this place,” she said urgently. The evil sorceress seemed almost frightened.

Des tore the parchment from his pocket, brandishing it in the air like a weapon. “You’re not the only ones who can read times and coordinates,” he told her.

“But you’re…” Alys broke off, her face bunched up in confusion. “You’re New Ones?”

“We’re the Primes,” said Des angrily. “The
real
Primes. Whoever this other‘Prime’is, we were here long before he was even born. You’d better listen to us, because my friend here is the closest thing to a god that Xaloria has. Isn’t that right, Jake?”

Jake was standing two feet from Torin, his sword held at the ready. The big warrior stared back at him, clutching his axe. Despite the tension, Jake glanced away for a moment and found his eyes captured by Alys’s terrified expression. The woman looked lost and miserable. She was shaking, her powerful magic forgotten. She was confused and frightened.

“Listen to me,” he said firmly, knowing that confused and frightened NPCs always meant the same thing. “We can help you.
I
can help you. I know what makes Xaloria work, and I can explain everything. Do you understand? I can answer all of your questions, every single one. I’ll bet your Prime can’t do that, can he? So you need to listen to me. But first, you have to let her go.” He nodded his head toward Kari. “Let our friend go. She can’t help you, but I can.”

“Lies!” snarled Torin, raising his axe in preparation to strike. “She is the Interpreter. She knows!”

“I don’t know anything,” wept Kari, collapsing to her knees and sobbing with fear.

“She doesn’t,” Jake said forcefully, stepping to one side and trying to work his way around the fierce Torin. “Kari’s just a visitor here. She doesn’t know how any of it works. I told you,
I
do.”

Alys closed her eyes and took three slow, deliberate breaths. When she opened her eyes, she reached a decision. Raising her twin daggers before her, the sorceress pointed them at Jake. Her voice, when she spoke, was free of the confusion and fear and sounded eerily calm instead. “Torin speaks true. The Prime says this girl is the Interpreter and we do not question the Prime. Kill them, Torin.”

Like a caged animal released at last, Torin leapt forward with his big axe swinging. Des scuttled aside as Jake threw up his shield arm to catch the crashing blow.

“Get Kari!” he shouted at Des, trying to stab with his sword around the edge of his buckler even as Torin’s strength drove him back. Another blow fell across the shield and Jake’s battered arm went numb. His next block was awkward and nearly failed, and Torin grinned as he saw an opening. Before the NPC could take another swipe, Jake jumped forward and slammed his buckler against Torin’s armored chest.

The NPC dodged nimbly back and held position just out of reach. He appeared to be sizing Jake up, reassessing the much smaller opponent he had thought to kill with one blow.

“You can fight, eh?” he said, grinning to show his discolored teeth. “Well, let’s see how well.”

Slipping left, Torin’s hulking frame proved surprisingly nimble. Taking advantage of Jake’s numb and wounded arm, Torin aimed his axe for Jake’s left side. The blade sliced through the air, destined to cleave through Jake’s rib cage. But the knight ducked low, and the heavy blade struck a glancing blow to the thick steel pauldron at his shoulder. Sparks fell over his face as the blade skidded harmlessly off Jake’s armor.

Torin was forced to adjust his balance, nearly falling over. He looked with new respect at Jake as the knight stepped back to one side, readying for an attack of his own. Lunging forward again, he chopped at the big man’s hip and hoped to find a chink in the plate armor. But his blade bounced from the steel greaves with no effect.

Torin was prepared. Several short, rapid swings of the axe resulted in a withering barrage of blows Jake was hard pressed to turn aside. He parried the first two with his sword, but the third and fourth slipped past his guard and clanged hard against his chainmail covered chest. Jake was knocked back, his chest burning with pain, and he knew he’d have a terrible bruise if not a broken rib or three.

While Jake struggled to keep Torin at bay, Des ran to Kari’s side. Whipping out his bow, he drew back three arrows and took aim at Alys as he ran. Reaching Kari, he knelt slightly without releasing tension on the bowstring.

“Stay behind me,” he hissed at Kari. “I’ll take care of her.”

Since switching to the bow from his original weapon, the silly lacrosse stick slingshot, Des had picked up quite a bit of Xalorian archery. He launched a three arrow volley toward Alys. She waved her magic blades almost carelessly, and the arrows were tugged aside by an invisible force and pierced the ground. Des fired again, and once more Alys blocked. Her movements were leisurely, her expression calm and unruffled.

“How long can she keep that up?” Des asked Kari, growing desperate and starting to run low on arrows.

“No idea,” Kari told him, wiping at her tear-streaked face. “I’ve never seen anyone try to fight her until you came yesterday.”

“Great.” Des sighed. “Stay put.”

Jumping to one side, Des shot at Alys from a new angle and hoped the NPC’s attention would stay fixed on him. He fired again and again, but each projectile was effortlessly deflected. Alys hardly even paid Des attention, her eyes turned toward the continuing battle between Torin and Jake.

Realizing the futility of his ranged attack, Des shouldered the bow and took one of his last arrows in hand. He gripped it like a spear and sidled closer to the sorceress. Alys scowled at him; he certainly had her attention now. Clothed only in a velvet jumpsuit and silver cloak, she was practically armorless. Reluctantly, Alys watched the thief approach and sank into a defensive crouch with her magic daggers held at the ready.

“Enough,” she commanded, though her firm voice faltered a bit. “You will stop this now.”

“You telling or begging, lady?” Des retorted with a mean-spirited grin. “I don’t take orders from NPCs.” He charged forward with bounding strides that had him on her in moments.

Alys fell back, her eyes wide. But it was a trick. Just as Des reached her, she thrust one dagger forward and up while swooping the other in a wide crescent around her. An invisible, bone-crushing force struck Des full in the chest and hurled him backward nearly twenty feet.

“Des, no!” shrieked Kari, and he turned his face toward her just before crashing into the ground. Her horror-stricken face was the last thing he saw before the black curtain fell.

Startled by Kari’s cry, Jake’s concentration faltered. He saw Des collapse in a crumpled heap and gasped. Seeing the boy’s distraction, Torin swung his broad-bladed weapon viciously toward Jake’s head.

Seeing the danger at the last second, Jake dove to one side. He could hear the axe glide through the air and the would-be fatal blow connected solidly against his armored shoulder. The crushing weight behind the blow drove Jake to his knees. The leather binding Jake’s pauldron to his shoulder snapped, and the armor slipped awkwardly down over his bicep, pinning his shield arm close to his side.

Torin stood over Jake, laughing with delight at the young knight’s predicament.

“You cannot hope to stop the Prime,” he taunted the boy. He took his eyes off Jake, only for an instant, to cast a mocking smirk at his companion. “This fool is certainly not of the New Ones, whatever some people may believe.”

Alys narrowed her eyes, glaring at Torin angrily but swallowed whatever rebuke had risen to her lips. Instead, she stretched out one arm to level the tip of one silvery dagger directly at Jake. The tip glowed and a tiny light burst outward, swelling in size as it rushed through the air. As the fireball grew, rushing straight toward Jake, Torin raised his axe to deliver another blow. It seemed neither Alys nor Torin was willing to let the other claim the kill.

Jake knew he had little chance. He scuttled to his right, crab-like, hoping to avoid the twin attacks. He succeeded in dodging Torin’s slow but powerful swing, and the axe blade buried itself deep in the dirt where Jake had crouched an instant before. Cursing, Torin tugged at his weapon to dislodge it from the ground.

Jake grinned, but returned his glance to the fireball Alys had thrown. The flaming missile adjusted trajectory in mid-flight, changing direction and honed in on his new position. Jake scrambled backwards, fighting to reach his feet and get away, but the fireball accelerated and struck him on the chest. Superheated chainmail burned through his shirt and scalded the skin beneath, and he screamed in pain. He knew he’d have dozens of tiny, circular blisters if he survived this. If he survived.

Alys drew back her dagger, readying a second fireball. Torin finally plucked his axe-blade free, spraying tiny clods of dirt into the air as he ripped it up from the ground. The hulking warrior stomped closer, raising the axe for another powerful swing.

Jake, doing his best to ignore the burning agony in his chest, rolled into a crouch and threw himself at the big man’s chest just as Torin began his downward swing. The huge man grunted, startled, as Jake crashed into him and the axe came swinging down. Jake dropped his head below Torin’s chest and heard a heard a sickening crackle as Alys’s fireball collided into Torin’s back.

Torin cried out and shoved Jake to the ground, dropping his axe and spinning in place. Jake saw the glowing red circle on Torin’s back, the heavy steel plate of his armor superheated just as his own chainmail had been. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air and Torin snarled at Alys. Torin threw his arms back over his shoulders, instinctively pawing at the burning hot metal, trying to push it off. His upraised arms bared twin slivers of bare flesh, the unprotected skin beneath his armpits where arms entered their steel casings.

Jake readied himself at Torin’s feet and lunged forward yet again. Stabbing clumsily, he prayed his sword would find that tiny weak point. But he was too low – the point of his sword skidded up Torin’s steel cuirass with a screech before embedding in the thick, rolled padding beneath the very hole Jake had hoped to strike.

Torin spun again, swinging at the knight with both hands in an attempt to snare him in close and trap him against his body. His axe lay forgotten, a few paces away. Alys had ceased shooting fireballs after her misfire, but Jake could see her circling around for a better aim.

Jake dodged Torin’s grasping arms, breathing heavily. This fight was really taking it out of him. He dodged, but too slow. A meaty fist connected with Jake’s side with rib-crushing force. Armor creaked and buckled, and pain lanced through one entire side of his body. Jake cried out in pain, but Torin laughed and pulled back his fist for another blow.

Jake lifted his sword to strike, but the brute hit him again. Jake staggered back, and his trapped left arm threw his balance out of whack. He managed, barely, to stay on his feet. Torin shoved him to the ground and grasped his shoulders, giving Jake a rough spin. As the big man yanked Jake around, he knew this was his last chance.

Jake drew back the sword and plunged it forward. This time his blade found the mark, and cold steel slid deep into Torin’s unresisting skin. The big man threw back his head and howled in agony as Jake’s sword scraped across his ribs and skewered his heart. The howl broke off abruptly, a trickle of blood leaking from Torin’s mouth as the giant brute sagged and fell. The sword was wrenched from Jake’s grasp as the big man fell, and he made no move to get it back. He stared down at Torin’s body, shocked at his victory.

Alys’s gasp brought him back to the moment. Jake spun around, and saw the sorceress had given up with her fireballs. She ran to Kari, who was kneeling over the still form of Des the Hand. Snatching the girl by the arm, Alys sliced Kari’s hand with her silvery dagger before turning it on herself and cutting her own hand.

“Stop!” Jake shouted, lumbering toward them. He stumbled. He was barely able to keep his feet. His vision swam and he felt like he’d been run over by a truck. More than once.

Alys ignored the command, or plea, whichever. Rubbing her own bleeding palm against Kari’s, mixing the blood, the sorceress rubbed the flat of her dagger blade through the mixture. Releasing Kari’s arm to clutch the dagger in both hands, she waved it over her head in the same circular pattern she had made the day before.

“No!” cried Jake, recognizing the spell. “Don’t! I can help you!”

Alys ignored him, weaving her spell all the more quickly. Jake was too far away; he wouldn’t reach them in time. He slowed his steps and watched helplessly as a familiar flash of light filled his vision. Kari and the sorceress were gone.

Jake sank to his knees in the grass and realized he was only a foot or so from where Des lay. For a moment, he thought his friend was dead. He felt for a pulse, his despondence growing with each second, but he felt a faint fluttering beneath his fingertip and saw Des’s chest rise and fall ever so slightly. Flooded with a sickly mixture of relief and sadness, Jake buried his head in his hands and wept.

“Your eyes are still kind of glassy,” reported Jake, studying Des’s pupils. “Not as bad as when you first woke up, though. You still nauseous?”

“Yeah, a bit,” said Des, rubbing one hand absently from his stomach and up over his chest. “Mostly it’s up here, where I got hit. I’ll be okay, though.”