Refuge: Kurt's Quest (32 page)

Jackie heard the Assassin stop, then the swish
of a blade coming down. 
Move, dammit
, she thought, forcing her body to
react.  Even if it wasn’t at her normal speed and grace, it was still better
than a normal person was capable of.  Jackie spun to the left, crossing her
arms and catching the descending blade on the chain mail.  She allowed herself
to be pushed back a moment, then uncoiled like a spring and shoved the woman
away.

The Immortal could already feel her body
recovering.  Her senses were coming back online, her reflexes were almost up to
snuff, and she could feel the strength flowing again through her muscles.  With
a quick motion she slid into a side kick and launched the female Assassin
through the air, then stooped and grabbed
Ice
, straightening in time to
block the slash from the remaining journeyman  assassin.  She drove her back
with a return slash, then stooped and grabbed
Fire
.

Footsteps came up behind her, and she turned,
raising her right leg into the air and meeting the Master Assassin with another
side kick, this one blurring in and catching her enemy in the stomach.  The
female oofed out her air, her motion reversing as she was again thrown through
the air.  Jackie continued the motion, coming back around in time to block the
sword from the other, following the defensive move with a thrust of
Fire
into
the chest of the assassin.  Clothing burst into flame, and the woman let out a
scream of agony as the burning blade pushed into her lung and broiled the
organs in her thorax.

The assassin fell back, sliding off the blade,
going down to one knee.  She looked up with agony in her eyes, and Jackie swung
both blades in, meeting through her neck and severing her head from his body. 
The Ellala fell bonelessly to the floor, her head rolling away, not a drop of
blood flowing from body or head due to the freezing or cauterization of the
blades.

“How did you survive the poison?” asked the Master,
standing her ground ten meters away.

“Because I’m different,” said the Immortal with
a smile.  “Because God has blessed me.  Or evolution has made me physically
superior to most.  I don’t know.  What I do know is I’m going to kill you,
right here and now.”

“Then come for me,” said the Master Assassin,
straightening to her full height.  “I am still the best of my profession, and
will not go easily.”

You’re a damned killer for hire
, thought Jackie,
taking a moment to study her opponent, looking for a weakness or injury she
might have incurred.  She didn’t see any indication of injury, which meant the
Elf would be just as fast and fluid as before.  She knew she was faster.  She
was also sure that the Ellala was the more experienced, though experience
didn’t always count for enough.  As she was thinking, the Assassin must have
misjudged her hesitancy for indecision, and jumped into an attack that almost
took the Immortal off guard.

Almost was the operant word.  The speed and
ferocity of the attack did surprise her, but her faster than human reflexes, which
were also much speedier than those of any Ellala, sprang into action.

The blades of the Assassin flashed in, a
complicated attack that was meant to confound and confuse, eventually to make
an opening in the defense.  Jackie was pushed to the limits of her defensive
abilities, blocking the Assassin’s blades at the last moment as they flashed
in.  She looked for a pattern that she could use against the Ellala, but the
attack didn’t repeat.  A blade sliced into the side of her face, and the
Immortal cried out in pain as blood splashed in front of her eyes.

That’s it
, she thought as her anger rose.  Her
body went into overdrive, and her speed increasing, until the flashing blades
of the Assassin looked like those of a clumsy child.  She slapped them aside with
no difficulty, her own swords moving in blurs that even her own sped up senses
had trouble following. 
Now
, she thought as an opening presented itself.

The Assassin screamed as
Ice
penetrated
her chest, the flesh around the wound freezing solid.  Her eyes stared at
Jackie as her arms fell to her side, her blades falling to the ground.

“I can’t die,” croaked the Assassin as the ice
spread and her thorax froze solid.

“Have fun in whatever hell you’re going to,
bitch,” said Jackie, pulling her blade free and snapping a kick into the
woman’s chest.  Her torso cracked as she fell away.  As she hit the floor her
torso shattered into chunks of quick frozen flesh, her head and shoulders
sliding away.

I need to see who needs help
, she thought, looking
around and seeing nothing, but hearing the sounds of battle coming from several
locations.  She picked one and headed toward it, ready to sink her blades into
some more people trying to harm herself and her friends.

*     *     *

Gromli was trying his best to keep his
remaining men in some kind of a formation to counter the attack of a superior
force of Ellala.  He had three men still on their feet, not enough to hold the
line against over a dozen Ellala.  And even worse, from his viewpoint, was the
Ellala in the mage robes who was walking toward them, his hands raised in the
air while he shouted words of power. 
So we need to keep close to these
Ellala
, thought the Knight as he took several sword strokes on his shield
and gave one back that also bounced from the enemy warrior’s protection, though
his blade did cut into the edge of the shield a bit.

The Ellala started to fall back, looking as if
they were willing to let the mage break their enemies for them.  And with no
magic user on their side, it looked like the Nords were about to be burned in
place.  The magic user raised a hand and pointed it at the Nords, and Gromli
felt his skin crawl as he thought about what was coming their way.

The mage made the last pass and thrust his hand
forward, just in time for an arrow to penetrate the palm to the feathers. 
Gromli turned to see
H’rrut’s
son notching another arrow and taking aim at the injured mage.  And then his
attention was captured by a chilling war cry to the front, and turned in time
to see H’rrut pushing into the flank of the Ellala, his shield bashing one Elf,
sending the man flying through the air to knock over one of his fellows, while
his great ax came down into the shoulder of another.  The common ax could not
penetrate the high quality mail, but the cry of the Ellala, combined with the
look on his face and his dropping his blade from nerveless fingers, showed the
effect of the blow.  The Ellala warrior tried to get away, his right arm dead
at his side, his features scrunched up agony, and Gromli was sure the man had a
broken collar bone.  He also could get away fast enough to avoid the next
strike of the ax, which sliced into his neck above the chain and cut halfway
through to his spine.

H’rrut pulled the blade away, his barbarian
muscles bulging, swinging the ax into another strike, this one a backhand that
took another Ellala in the chest.  Again the common blade could not penetrate
the fine chain the Ellala was wearing.  And again the force of the blow damaged
the thinner Ellala despite not penetrating the armor.  The Ellala was thrown
back, his shield and blade dropping to the floor, his breath huffing out in a
rush of air.  The Ellala fell to his back and lay there, unmoving.

A blade licked in and penetrated the Nord’s
scale and leather armor.  H’rrut yelled in anger and struck at the man with his
ax, ignoring his own wound.  The ax came down on the Ellala’s helmet and
snapped the man’s neck, and he fell, his body going completely limp.  The big
barbarian bashed another Ellala with his shield, while he raised his ax for
another strike, constantly roaring his rage at the warriors who had slaughtered
his people.

Gromli looked back at the mage, who was now
knocking arrows down with the wave of his good hand, his rage filled eyes
glaring at the young Nord who was sending shaft after shaft his way.  Gromli
was sure that the boy would be dead once the mage got his wits about him and
could launch an offensive spell.  Then he had no time for other thoughts as he
had to deal with the Ellala in front of him, the first of the warriors coming
back at them now that their mage seemed to no longer be the threat he had
presented as.

Gromli blocked the Ellala’s sword on his shield
and struck back, his own attacked blocked. He was stronger than the Ellala, who
was the quicker fighter.  They traded blows back and forth, each trying to use
their own advantage to win the day.

A scream behind caught his awareness, and he
shoved the Ellala back to give himself a chance to glance back.  H’rrut’s son
had dropped his bow as he shook in place, his hair standing on end.  Gromli
blocked another blow, returning an almost automatic counter, his eyes looking
at the mage, who was holding his good hand in a fist with his eyes closed.  It
was obvious that the mage was hitting the young man with a spell.  Just as it
was obvious that if something wasn’t done fast the young Nord was dead.  H’rrut
was busy, not even aware that his son was in danger.  Gromli had his own fight,
as did his surviving men.  There was no one to attack the mage, who, as soon as
he was through with the boy, would probably start attacking the other Nords.

The mage cried out, his eyes opening wide, and
Gromli wondered what new deviltry the wizard was planning.   Then the mage’s
hand, good and crippled, went to his head, and the Elf fell to his knees, then
forward like a felled tree to land face first on the stone floor.

What the hell just happened,
thought Gromli, barely
blocking the next blow.  Whatever it was, it gave he and his men more of a chance
against the Ellala, who had already lost half their force, and were starting to
give in to doubt.

*     *     *

The statue of ice that was James Drake was not
dead, at least not in the conventional meaning of the term.  Every cell in his
body was frozen solid, all of the cells burst from the pressure of the
expanding crystallized water.  Except for his brain, which was still intact
and, more importantly, warm.  From everything the young mage knew he should
still be dead, his brain cut off from the blood that would be carrying oxygen
and nutrients.  But his brain was still getting energy, and he could only
attribute it to the fire magic he had trapped deep inside his body prior to
being frozen.

I need to heal
, he thought, sending
tendrils of warmth through his frozen cells.  They thawed quickly, but were of
course ruptured, incapable of functioning.  Until the next wave of warmth
washed over them and they were restructured by the type of healing magic that
only a natural fire mage could control.  Minutes after starting the process
James was again whole, though weak and shivering.  It would take more minutes
to recover to the point where he was once again an effective combatant.

Chapter Twenty-One

Fenris pushed the last Ellala aside and took
off in a sprint toward the mage.  He could feel the eyes of the man boring into
him, and his skin crawled as he waited for the bolt of magic, whatever kind it
was to be, to strike him.

Fenris said the words for the only counter
spell he knew, not sure if it would stop whatever the mage sent at him.  He was
through the third word of the spell when he felt the cold kiss of steel in the
back of his neck, and realized that the man he had pushed aside had not lost
his balance, and had gotten in a strike.  His last thought was that his luck
had run out as the darkness closed in around him, and his body below the mid
neck went dead.  And he knew he would not be coming back to his Princess.

*     *     *

Garios’ hammer smacked into the head of the
Ellala mage before he could launch another spell.  The sound like a melon being
hit by a sledgehammer was noticeable even from the thirty meter distance, and
blood started flowing from the ears of the Ellala.  The man’s eyes rolled up
and his dead body fell to the floor.

The Dwarf saw the Death Priest coming at him
out of the corner of his eye.  He ducked the black rapier that was questing for
his life, not a difficult task for one already so low to the ground.  His
hammer appeared in his hand at just the right moment in the right position, and
he swung in to hit the knee of the other Priest.  The hammer hit solid on the
kneecap, and the Dwarf could feel the bone shatter under the hard face of the
weapon.

The Death Priest screamed his pain, his eyes
leaving the Dwarf and focusing on the wound that was threatening to fell him. 
Garios said the words of an offensive spell, focusing it into the hammer, and
spun to add even more force to the blow.  He swung the hammer into the chest of
the other Priest, and lightning sprang from the weapon as it hit.  The enemy
Priest flew backwards from the combined force of a physical blow and the
lightning bolt of the Lawful God of War.  He struck the far wall and fell
lifeless to the floor, the lightning still playing over his chest, the scorched
meat odor of burning flesh filling the air.

Garios went to one knee, the fatigue of the
battle finally getting to him.  He said a quick prayer to the Gods of Law and
Life while he was in that position, then stood up and walked over to the Death
Priest.  He was pretty sure the man was dead, but didn’t want to take chances
when it came to someone who worshiped the Gods of Death.  They were known to
come back as undead, horrific creatures as dangerous in death as they were in
life.

Garios said another spell over the hammer, then
smashed down on the head of the Priest, flattening the forehead as the skull
burst open and brains sprayed out.  “Try coming back from that,” said the
Priest, turning and walking away.  He knew the battles were still going on, and
rest would have to wait.  His friends needed him, and he was not about to let
them down.

*     *     *

Jackie cried out as she saw the position Kurt
was in.  The giant Ogre stood to his front, the huge black blade glowing with
radiant energy that conflicted with the night dark glow of the sword.  And said
sword was sticking through her lover, at stomach level.  Kurt seemed helpless,
his gauntleted hands clutching the blade as if he was trying to pull it out,
and achieving nothing.

With a battle cry she ran forward, both blades
gripped tightly, looking for a weakness in the black armor that was also
glowing with power. 
It’s the Black Blade and Black Armor
, she thought,
wondering if there was a weak spot, and realizing that the power they were
glowing with was Kurt’s life force.

Jackie struck with
Fire,
following it up
with
Ice. 
She cried again, this time in dismay, as her blades not only
didn’t penetrate the evil armor, but didn’t even come close to touching it. 
The armor was surrounded by a field of darkness that extended ten centimeters
from the surface of the plate, and it was repelling her best effort.

Jackie went into overdrive, her blades flashing
in blurs and bouncing from the field.  She didn’t know what else to do.   She
realized the power of the blade and armor, how they converted the life energy
they stole into the force that they used for their magical effects.  And they
were feeding the Ogre as well, making him more powerful.

“Damn you,” screamed Jackie, swinging both
blades in one after the other, multiple strikes per second, none of them doing
anything.  And the Ogre and his evil implements were stealing the life of her
lover, and, more importantly, the man who was prophesized to be the savior of
this world.  “Attack me, dammit.  Attack me.”  She knew that if the Ogre
attacked her, she wouldn’t have any better chance of hurting him, but, with her
greater speed, she might be able to avoid him, wear him down.  And she was not
the savior.  Her life was not as important.  If she had to give it to save
Kurt, she would.  But first she had to get the Ogre to turn on her, and he was
not cooperating.

Jackie moved to the side and started striking
the sword, hoping that it would react if its wielder didn’t.  Again her blades
could not touch the Ogre or anything on him.  She screamed her frustration, and
continued to strike, feeling her body start to overheat.  But she didn’t dare
stop.

*     *     *

White Paw saw the female Immortal attack the
Ogre, trying to stop him from doing whatever he was doing to the male Immortal,
his master, Kurt.  The wolf only had his mental powers to attack someone in
that kind of heavy armor.  He attempted to use telekinesis, first pulling on
the Ogre, then on the blade.  There was no budge there.  Next he tried to
locate a mind to attack.  He could feel Kurt’s, and Jackie’s, but the mind of
the Ogre was blocked by something.  He could tell that it was there, but none
of his probes could get through the darkness that surrounded that mind.

[Get away from us,] shouted a mind like nothing
he had ever felt before.  [You are not welcome here.]

Along with the voice came a wave of dark pain,
and the wolf howled as it attacked his mind. 
It’s not alive
, he thought
as he tried to bring up his own mental shield.  The total malevolence of the
mind belonged to the realm of demons.  It was blocking his attempt to erect his
shield, and the wolf realized that this thing could kill him.  All thought of
aiding Kurt was gone, the only thing of importance was his own survival, the
only thing he could do at the moment.  If he survived, he could help his
compatriots.  If he didn’t, he would be of no use to those he called friends.

*     *     *

Drake stumbled forward, his legs like rubber,
pulling more of the heat of the earth, bubbling under the ground in magma
pockets, into his body to complete the rejuvenation process.  Strength started
to flood into his body, and he had to clamp down on the feelings of power that
threatened to drive him mad.  The same godlike feelings that had turned
Katherine Heidle mad in the refuge valley.  His friends needed his power.  They
did not need a power wielding megalomaniac walking around burning everything in
sight.

He caught sight of Garios first, the Dwarf,
obviously fatigued, stumbling forward.  Then he spotted Kurt, his back to him
while the Ogre towered over him, doing something he couldn’t see to his big
German friend.  That he was doing something by the way they stood was also
obvious.  And he caught flashes of Jackie behind the Ogre, moving in a blur and
swinging her blades at the huge warrior.  That it was not having an effect was
also obvious.

Hearing a sound to his right side, he turned
and felt his breath suck in as he saw the chief of the Ellala mages.  The man’s
total concentration was fixed on Garios, as he waved his hands in the air and mumbled
some words. 
No you don’t, you son of a bitch
, thought the Fire Mage,
drawing more power from his body and sending it toward the other wizard in the
same manner he had attacked Katherine in the valley when she had gone mad.

The energy moved through the floor in an instant,
downloading its heat into the stone beneath the Ellala mage’s feet.  Rock
turned to molten liquid, and the mage looked down with a cry of horror as his
feet began to simultaneously sink downward and melt away.  The spell forgotten,
he screamed in agony, his eyes darting until they landed on James.  The eyes of
the Ellala stared into his with a combination of hate, anger and pleading.  And
though he did feel some sympathy for the man, he was determined to end him now,
before he harmed James and his friends again.

The Ellala continued to scream, every few
seconds trying to get the words out to a spell, and failing.  His robes burst
into flames, and moments later he was a human torch, melting away into the
liquid rock.  One last scream and he was gone, and James felt a twinge of guilt
at killing in such an awful manner.  But just a twinge, as he had more
important things to concentrate on.

Have to be careful with this one
, he thought, repeating
the last trick on the Ogre, making sure his transfer was exact.  While magical
fire couldn’t harm the human Immortal, the molten rock that resulted from that
energy definitely could.  So the patch of magma was much smaller under the
Ogre. 
Die, you son of a bitch
, he thought at the Ogre as the rock
turned red and flowed like liquid.  And the Ogre stood on it like it was still
solid, not showing the slightest discomfort.

“Dammit,” cried James, pulling up a different
spell, trying something new.  Electricity, cold, paralysis, nothing seemed to
get through the armor of the Ogre.  He could see Jackie still furiously
attacking, moving more careful now around the patch of molten floor.  Garios
casting spells which also had no effect.  And Kurt standing as still as a
statue, while the dark power around the armor and blade of the Ogre continued
to grow.