Sinister Seraphim of Mine (Overworld Chronicles Book 8) (29 page)

BOOK: Sinister Seraphim of Mine (Overworld Chronicles Book 8)
13.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"When may we continue our talks?" Mom asked.

"We need to repair our fortifications and treat our casualties." Taylor looked at the wreckage around her. "And we need to clean up this bloody mess before someone sees it and has the Penrith city zoning enforcement all over our collective asses."

"In other words, not anytime soon," Mom said. "I would beg you reconsider—"

"Reconsider?" Wilson said. "We lost good people because of you rebels. Why should we—"

"Enough!" Taylor roared. "One more word from you, Wilson, and I will have you gagged."

"My father wouldn't be pleased about that, would he?" the man said, as if daring her."

She sighed and gave him a derisive look. "Gag him, Lieutenant Mogo."

A lean, muscled man with skin the color of coal leaned over from his horse and wrapped a wide strip of diamond fiber cloth around Wilson's mouth so quickly, I hardly saw him do it.

Wilson made a strained sound and clawed at the gag over his mouth, but was unable to dislodge it. I noticed a spot of blood where Mogo had sealed the cloth. Without his blood, the gag wouldn't come off. I'd been bound and gagged with diamond fiber straps. The stuff was unbreakable. Seeing it sometimes gave me flashbacks to my time when Maximus had held me captive. In this case, I was happy to see it.

Taylor turned back to Mom. "As I was about to say, Ambassador Slade, I do not wish to discuss the matter any further."

 

Chapter 27

 

I honestly couldn't blame Commander Taylor for ending the negotiations. We'd brought a war to their doorstep. If they never chose a side, they might be perfectly fine—at least until Daelissa took over the world and rained destruction down upon everyone.

Mom looked as if she were fighting to hide extreme disappointment, but simply nodded.

Taylor turned her horse around to face her people. "I vote in favor of joining the Borathen Templars for they still honor our ancient traditions and do not resort to such cowardly attacks as those allied with the Synod have done this day. I require a supermajority of my Lieutenants to vote in agreement. Let there be a show of hands for those who agree."

Say what?
Mom and I exchanged shocked looks.

Mogo was the first to raise his hand. The other men and women who wore badges of command on their armor seemed to consider it for a moment before most of them raised their hands. One woman with short hair looked at Wilson for an instant before apparently deciding not to raise her hand. Another man, his face contorted with anger, also refrained.

"All those opposed," Taylor said.

Wilson, the woman, and the angry man raised their hands.

I did some quick math. Five of the eight had voted in favor. That was nearly sixty-three percent, a clear majority, but was it considered a supermajority?

"The vote passes," Mogo said in thick Australian accent mixed with what I thought might be Aboriginal in nature.

"Very well." Taylor turned to my mother. "Ambassador, we may return to the castle and sign the paperwork now, if you wish." The young man she'd sent to the castle returned with several coils of rope and a group of rank and file Templars. They saluted and stood by.

"I don't suppose you have any large flying carpets handy?" Elyssa asked.

"We have a transport slider for things so large," Taylor said. "I will have it brought out here."

Wilson made a few grunting noises, but the gag muffled his words.

"Lieutenant Wilson, I suggest you return to your quarters and think about the importance of following orders." Taylor gave him a stern look.

The man returned a stiff salute, turned his horse, and rode back to headquarters.

She turned to the other lieutenants. "Return to the fortress and oversee repairs." As they turned back for home, she motioned at Mogo. "Please stay and assist in the recovery of this device." She sighed. "I suppose I'll be hearing from Commander Wilson once that bloody gag comes off."

"Commander Wilson?" I asked.

"There are two legions in Australia," Taylor said. "Once, there was a single chain of command, but the Synod split us into two—a northern and a southern. Commander Wilson leads the northern one."

"Why doesn't Wilson go to his daddy's legion?" I asked.

One of the rank and file Templars snickered but quickly recovered.

"I believe his father is hopeful I will drop dead so his son can command this legion." Taylor rolled her eyes. "Commander Wilford J. Wilson only received his post because he was best friends with Artemis Coronus."

"Oh," I said dragging out the
O
. "The guy Thomas Borathen relieved of his head."

"The very one." Taylor actually smiled. "The man was an unmitigated ass, much like Wilford. Thankfully, the northern legion is only about a quarter our size and populated by those I deemed less than adequate to join our ranks. Wilford has held the possibility of his people aligning with the Synod over my head should I relieve his son of his Lieutenant position. I believe it would be to the Synod's detriment should they allow them to join."

"Crappy Templars?" I said. "Who'da thunk it?"

"Perhaps we can return to the castle and sign the paperwork," Mom said. "I also need to put my daughter to bed. She's had quite the day."

Mogo hopped off his horse. "Please allow me, Ambassador." He held out his arms to take Ivy.

"Thank you," Mom said, handing her daughter over so she could climb on the horse.

Mogo handed Ivy back to her once she was situated.

Mom turned to me. "Be careful with that interdictor. It might zap you if you're not careful."

"Yes, Mom." I grinned, unable to suppress the happiness at having a parent figure tell me to be careful.

Her forehead wrinkled. "You're supposed to be more rebellious than that, Justin." She smiled. "At least pretend you're a teenager."

I shrugged. "Hey, when the weight of the world is on your shoulders, it's nice to have someone else in charge."

Elyssa chuckled.

Mom and Commander Taylor rode off for the castle. Elyssa and I got the Templars to help us drag the interdictor from the muck. Lieutenant Mogo pitched in, working just as hard as everyone else. By the time we freed the device, we were all covered in mud. The Tesla coil was out of juice, and deaths by electrocution were thankfully avoided.

I noticed a couple of the Templars whispering to each other and looking my way as we stood around the muddy device.

One of them nudged the Templar who'd brought back the rope. He cleared his throat and asked, "Are you really Justin Slade?"

I gave him a quizzical look. "Who, me?" I shook my head. "My name is Roscoe P. Coltrane."

"Roscoe?" one of the females asked.

Elyssa punched me in the shoulder. "Stop it, you dork." She turned to the others. "Don't believe half of what he says. Yes, this is Justin."

One guy's eyes brightened. "My best friend fought at Bellwood. He said you tore the Nazdal leader in half."

"I heard you almost killed Daelissa," said a cute brunette with freckles. "So, are you two like dating seriously?" She gave Elyssa a meaningful look.

I slid an arm around my muddy girlfriend. "We are super serial."

"Sorry ladies, he's taken." Elyssa sniffed loudly. "And stinky too."

Everyone laughed.

A Templar glided to our location atop a large slider. I'd seen several configurations of the flying vehicles, most of which used illusion to appear like ordinary nom aircraft. This one was about the size of a flatbed trailer for a semi-truck. The pilot guided the slider to the ground next to the interdictor and the rest of us dragged the heavy metal contraption onboard, securing it with several straps of diamond fiber. The slider rose from the ground, turned, and headed for the castle. The rest of us followed on foot.

"I'm worried," Elyssa said to me, resting her head on my shoulder as we walked. "This was a large-scale, well-planned operation. She looked behind us. "I haven't seen catapults in action except in training exercises. We have a dozen or so in storage at the compound, but using them in a modern campaign is unusual."

"They are a bit archaic," I said, "but effective. I guess it would take too much energy to shoot those projectiles with just magic."

She nodded. "The malaether bomb really worries me. I wonder how many they have and how they made them."

It took me an unusually short amount of time to come to a conclusion. "The aether pods."

She sucked in a breath. "Instead of reviving a Seraphim, they could just fill a crucible with the aether generated from the process."

"What are they gonna start using next?" I said in an exasperated tone. "Rocket launchers? Missiles?"

"At this point I wouldn't put anything past Daelissa."

We reached the main castle gates and went inside. I saw Templar Arcanes directing large stone golems to repair the wall.

"Why didn't we use those in the battle?" I asked.

"They were using them on the south wall," Elyssa said. "These are construction golems. They aren't infused with magical resistance charms to keep Arcanes from destroying them."

"Well, why don't they have those kinds of golems around? They could've come in handy."

"Use of golems in war is forbidden by Overworld law."

I gave her a confused look. "In case you hadn't noticed, the rulebook went out the window a long time ago." I punched a fist into my palm. "We've got to stop being law-abiding citizens, Elyssa. This is no-holds-barred war."

She held up her hands defensively. "I completely agree. But I don't think we should start using non-conventional weapons like those malaether nukes." Her eyes wandered the castle, as if imagining what could have happened if Ivy hadn't stopped the nuke. "We might just destroy the world we're trying to protect."

"Speaking of which, we still don't know if that thing left radioactive fallout."

Elyssa pointed to a group of people dressed in black suits who appeared to be examining the area. "Let's ask those Custodians."

Custodians were the Templar clean-up crews responsible for keeping the Overworld out of the headlines when paranormal events affected noms. "Don't they ever dress casual?" I asked.

Elyssa approached them and spoke with a man. He pointed her toward a woman with her black hair pulled back in a tight bun. She tapped the woman on the shoulder. "Excuse me."

The woman turned. Her eyes went wide about the same time Elyssa's did. I felt my mouth open in surprise.

Fausta Gaetano quickly covered her surprise. "Elyssa and Justin. It is good to see you." Her tone didn't sound all that pleased, but it was often hard to tell with the feisty Italian.

"Uh, hi," I said, unable to come up with anything better. I hadn't seen her since fighting Maximus in Bogota, Colombia, and Atlanta.

Fausta motioned us to step away from the group of Custodians interviewing one of the Arcanes who directed the repairs. She turned and stopped.

"I'm confused," Elyssa said. "Why are you working with the Custodians? I thought you were on active service under Commander Salazar."

"I am," she said. "Unfortunately, since the split from the Synod, we have experienced a shortage of Custodians. Though each legion has a small complement, the Custodians operated from a central office with the Synod. When I first joined the Templars, I was assigned to the Custodians, but knew it was not my calling and went into warrior training." She sighed. "It appears I am more experienced than anyone else with Custodian procedures, so I volunteered to help train our new people."

"Makes sense," I said. "Everything's upside down these days."

"Agreed." She took in a deep breath. "It is truly good to see old friends." This time her spicy Italian accent actually sounded genuine.

"It's good to see you too." Elyssa held out a hand.

Fausta reached out and shook it. Her lips peeled back in a fierce smile. "It seems we missed quite a battle."

"How'd you get here so fast?" I asked.

She folded her arms. "We—I mean, the Colombian Templars still retain control of the La Casona way station. Their Arcanes found a functioning omniarch and we are now using it to reach places quickly."

"That's really good news." I felt a palpable sense of relief, given the recent news about Cyphanis Rax possibly shutting off access to Obsidian Arches.

"The attackers used a non-conventional warhead," Elyssa said, cutting directly to the point. "We need to know if there's any fallout." She described the malaether crucible.

Fausta's expression turned all business. "I will put my people on it." She scowled. "Daelissa's minions fight like cowards."

"She only cares about winning," I said. "Daelissa will do anything if it means she comes out on top."

"There are rules for a reason." Fausta spat on the ground. "They are descending to the level of the noms. They will blow everything up." She slid a silver katana from a scabbard across her back. "A sword is clean, quick, and it does not destroy the world in the process of killing."

"Amen, sister." Elyssa held up a fist.

Fausta bared her teeth in a fierce grin and bumped her fist against Elyssa's. "Now, if I could just get you to switch from those little sai swords."

Elyssa mimicked her grin. "We never did have a chance to spar so I could show you how much better these sai swords are."

"Anytime,
sorella
." Fausta looked ready to go right then.

I stepped between them. "Now that you've soaked the ground with estrogen, perhaps we should get back to the important items at hand." I felt the weight of their piercing gazes settle on me.

Fausta turned away and motioned to one of her minions. The man approached, a wary look in his eye which told me he'd been working with Fausta long enough to know she was, at times, difficult to work with. "Go to the epicenter of the blast and measure the levels of magical fallout." She piled several more items on the poor guy's to-do list before shoving him toward the main gate.

"Thanks for the help," I said.

Fausta growled and gave me a quick hug. "Do not get yourself killed, Justin. I know we didn't get along in the past, but you are full of surprises."

Other books

Mariposa by Nancy Springer
Black by T.l Smith
HauntedPassion by Tianna Xander
Sweetest Taboo by Eva Márquez
Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami
Snow White Sorrow by Cameron Jace
El percherón mortal by John Franklin Bardin