The Living Sword (13 page)

“I know that! I'd just like to be asked, that's all.”

“Living sword,” Leraine broke in. “Would you do me the honor of wielding you as I avenge the death of my teacher?”

“Well,” the blade coughed, “when you say it like that, how can I say no? Wield me, but try to watch the edge. I chip easily.”

She saw Rock's wry smile, but did not share it. He might not understand the significance, but Leraine did as her hand slowly wrapped around the living sword's handle.

Chapter 9

Culmination

Holding Misthell in her hand confirmed what Leraine already suspected. The markings on the blade were no mere decorations; they were the real deal. Through the markings, she could channel a bit of Ghisa's power into the blade. Now, it felt alive in a way no ordinary weapon ever could.

She made a slow swing with the sword, to test its weight and become familiar with its balance. Nodding to herself, she faced Rock once more. “I am ready.”

He rolled his neck, then his shoulders. “I'm not, but I don't think they'll give us the time I need, so let's knock on the door.”

That proved unnecessary as the doors swung open when they approached them. The room inside was as Leraine remembered, complete with the Bone Lord and his blooddrinker. The latter leaned against a pillar, underneath one of the oil lamps illuminating the room, looking none too worried.

Merin, at least, sounded unhappy to see them. “It seems the trap part of your trap isn't up to the task,” he noted from his throne. “Or am I part of the bait as well?” the Bone Lord wondered with narrowed eyes.

“You worry too much,” the blooddrinker countered as he pushed himself away from the pillar. “I can deal with these two easily.”

“What are they talking about?” Rock asked aloud.

“They're not happy,” was all she said. Leraine was not in the mood right now to play translator.

“You will forgive me if I don't trust you on that,” Merin continued. “Verrin,
wach
.”

Red stars ignited in the eye sockets of the bone construct next to Merin's throne and it rolled its shoulders. Its gaze swept over Leraine and she could not help but shiver at the inhuman intelligence she felt in there.

“Verrin here is the reason I want that living sword,” the Bone Lord explained, switching to Linesan. “With that, my new construct will be guaranteed to sweep away this year's competition.”

“You … This was all about a game? People died!” Rock yelled.

Merin merely waved his words away. “I did not order their deaths. All of this could have been avoided if you'd simply sold your blade. But you made your choice, and others suffered for it.” Leraine wondered just how truthful Rik had been in his reports to his master.

Before Rock could argue the point, the blooddrinker spoke up. “Enough with the talking. Let's get to the killing!” He sprang forward with his curved blades drawn, and Leraine instantly went to meet him.

“The blooddrinker is mine to fight,” she warned Rock as she squared off with Rik.

“Alright. And Misthell, don't forget to be awesome.”

“I won't,” the sword vowed as she and Rik circled each other.

***

Eurik gave Broken Fang and Rik a wide berth as he made his way for Lord Merin. He didn't really know what he was going to do yet, but it would probably involve violence.

The Bone Lord must have thought the same thing. “Verrin, protect me,” he ordered the bone construct. It did not acknowledge the order in word, only in deed as it swiftly moved in front of the throne.

Confronted with the prospect of having to fight the bone construct, Eurik gave it a closer look. Its frame was the skeleton of either a very large man or an orc, with its normal feet replaced with a pair that looked like they'd belonged to a dragon; two claws pointed forward and one smaller one pointed backwards. Much of the skeleton was covered by plates of bone inscribed with more symbols than even the Knights Scapular's armor. Two horns fused to the sides of its skull helped give it a more intimidating look, though the glowing eyes alone were more than enough in Eurik's opinion.

Behind him, he could hear Misthell clashing with Rik's blades. 'Can't stand here and let her do all the work.' With a grunt, Eurik launched a shockwave through the floor, directed at Verrin and the seated Lord Merin behind it. The bone construct didn't react to the attack, it simply stood there as a wave of stone rolled towards it. So Eurik was taken by surprise when he felt the
chiri
wash up against an unseen field, before flowing around it leaving the floor around and behind Verrin undisturbed.

“Your abilities are useless against Verrin,” Merin chuckled. “Because I put the heart of a demon lord in him.”

***

Multi-colored sparks flew through the air as Misthell clashed with the blooddrinker's blades. “Those swords are made of vital steel,” the living sword revealed as Leraine backed off again. She knew what that was. Vital steel was the metal a living sword was made from. A blacksmith might only have a few living swords in him, but he could make as much vital steel as he wanted. It was easy to acquire a weapon made from vital steel, you just needed money.

“Yeah,” Rik confirmed. “I got these beauties before I left Sarvayna. To be honest, I thought they'd slice right through that woman's sword, but I guess those scribbles you primitives put on your weapons are good for something after all.”

“Her name was Viper,” Leraine hissed. She wouldn't do the blooddrinker the honor of giving him Irelith's soul name.

“You should focus more on the now.” His arm blurred towards her. Leraine reacted, but would have been too late if Misthell hadn't flexed, slapping Rik's blade away.

“It's all you have left.” Still grinning, the blooddrinker toyed with his weapons. But he never looked away from her.

Leraine looked for an opening herself. She had reach on him, Misthell was longer than Rik's blades. But he had two of them and knew how to use them. If she wanted to bring her dagger into play, she'd have to give up that advantage. And the blooddrinker was too fast to take a chance like that.

A flick of her wrist sent Misthell questing for Rik's left wrist, but it snapped out of the way while the other blade tried to push the living sword along to open Leraine up for a counter-attack. She thrust her dagger up, never getting close to hitting him, but forcing him to honor the threat while she brought her sword back into position.

They were back where they started. The blooddrinker's grin got a little wider.

***

'A demon's heart.' Demons hadn't walked the earth in centuries, not since the rift was closed. Demon lords, the commanders of those hordes, had been rare even when the rift had been open. Where the Bone Lord had found one didn't matter, though. What mattered was overcoming the problem before Eurik.

'According to the stories, demon lords were very dangerous. Their gaze could freeze a fighter on the spot, blades would bounce off of their skin, and magic faltered in their presence.' Eurik's eyes narrowed. 'In their presence,' he mulled. 'I'm not using magic, but that might not matter to whatever power the construct has access to.'

He stomped the floor, a stone flew up, and a thrust of his elbow sent it towards Verrin. It flew through the air, until it reached the construct. The air rippled around Verrin before the stone fell to the floor, its energy spent.

“As I said, useless. No magic can penetrate that barrier,” Merin taunted.

Eurik looked around for inspiration. He probably could bring the tower down, the construct might survive even that, but Lord Merin wouldn't. Of course, neither would Broken Fang.

“I think you've done quite enough damage to my home. Verrin, kill him.”

The construct leaped into action. Its claws dug into stone as it cocked back a fist. Eurik raised his arms to defend himself from the punch and fortified his body with more Earth
chiri
. Then he ducked out of the way when the construct's other hand tried to rake him. Its fingertips now sported small blades composed of the same energy that blazed in the construct's eyes.

But he hadn't dodged the attack after all. Eurik hissed, his hand went to his side and came back bloody. Those energy claws had cut right through the
chiri
and his skin, but luckily the wounds were shallow. Concentrating, he forced the blood to harden. He would have to open the wound up again once this was over for it to heal properly, but it would do for now.

Verrin came at Eurik again, and in a reflex he launched a pillar of stone at the construct. It stopped before it could reach Verrin, the construct easily vaulting over the obstacle. Using what little Wind
chiri
there was, Eurik jumped back and put a pillar between him and Verrin. It would only give him a moment's peace, but that was more than he'd had. But it did leave the question: 'Now what do I do?'

***

The top half of her dagger had been shorn off, but Leraine still held on to it while she parried a flurry of strikes with Misthell. There was no time to counter-attack, no opportunity to breathe, as the blooddrinker forced her back step by step. She could almost feel the wall at her back.

“Tell me if I'm going to fast for you,” Rik crowed. He seemed more intent on batting about her sword than to try to score a hit on Leraine herself. “The last woman forgot to do that.”

Seeing red, Leraine took a wild swing. The blooddrinker leaned out of the way, but with is eyes fixed on Misthell, he didn't see her throw her dagger with a flick of her wrist. He felt it, though, when its broken edge sank into his thigh.

“Bloody hell,” Rik cursed as he hopped back. “I liked those pants.” The blooddrinker gave Leraine a furious glare, but made no move to pull the blade out, nor did he shift his weight off of the injured leg.

Leraine pulled the other dagger from her back. “Did I go too fast for you?” she asked him sweetly.

It only elicited a chuckle from the blooddrinker. “Aren't you a cheeky one. I'll enjoy drinking you,” he mused as he readied his blades in an unspoken invitation.

Taking a deep breath, Leraine took a step forward only to rear back in surprise when Rik rushed her. One moment he was there, the next he was inside arm's reach and shoving her up against the wall.

The pommel of his left sword slammed into her wrist; Misthell dropped out of her nerveless fingers. Leraine stabbed her dagger into him, the steel sinking into his side again and again, but the blooddrinker didn't seem to notice. A knee in her stomach forced her to stop, stop stabbing, stop breathing, stop thinking. Leraine's head came to rest on the blooddrinker's chest. The dagger fell to the floor.

“I'm a firm proponent of instant gratification,” Rik informed her.

In the distance, the living sword's voice said something before it cut off abruptly.

***

Verrin tried to go around the pillar to get at Eurik. He'd been waiting for that and slapped the column of stone. One of the drums started to move, but stopped right away. There seemed to be no way around that barrier. The bone construct continued to circle the pillar and Eurik followed suit.

When Verrin stopped, Eurik thought he had another respite until a roar tore through the air. It picked him up and threw him halfway across the room. Getting back up, none the worse for wear thanks to the Earth
chiri
still coursing through his body, Eurik found Verrin stalking towards him.

The construct growled now, its back hunched. It behaved more and more like a demon as the fight went on.

Eurik wondered what to do. He'd lost sight of Broken Fang and he didn't hear anything either. Was her fight over, had she won? 'No,' he realized as he cast his senses out through the stone. 'They're both still standing … and Misthell is on the floor. Not good.'

His attention returned to Verrin. He could sense its footsteps. 'Can't keep running,' he thought. 'Can't wait around until I come up with a clever solution.' Eurik had to act, and he had to act now. 'Wait a moment, I can feel him,' he mused. 'And come to think of it, how can it be walking towards me with that field? Unless ...'

Eurik started to run straight at Verrin, wind tugging at his shredded vest, gathering
chiri
with every step as he went faster and faster. Straight into the construct's waiting claws.

***

It barely registered that her enemy had put his swords away. But the world started to come back into focus when Rik yanked her head up by her hair. She'd always kept it short, and her
draen
had been cut off, but his strong fingers didn't need much purchase to exert tremendous force. He exposed her neck, his mouth already descending to take a drink.

'No!'

Ignoring the pluck of her hair she left behind in the blooddrinker's hand, Leraine pulled her head forward and did unto Rik, what he had intended to do. Her teeth sank into his throat and she made sure that one of them was her silver canine.

The blooddrinker tore away from her, leaving Leraine with a mouthful of flesh, blood, and a bad taste. “Fucking bitch, I'm going to bleed you dry for this!” he yelled as staggered around with a hand pressed against his neck. But he couldn't hide how that side of his neck was turning black and leathery, a reaction to the silver.

Her knees a little weak, her hands shaking, she crouched to retrieve Misthell. “I love the irony,” the blade said as Leraine got back up. “Almost enough to ignore the fact you dropped me on solid stone,” Misthell yelled.

Leraine ignored the sword, saving her breath for the fight. The blooddrinker's hands went for his blades while her left hand went for the last throwing spike in her right bracer. The projectile was in the air by the time Rik had his weapons out, but instead of batting it out the air he managed to catch the spike with his left forearm.

Transferring Misthell to her other hand, Leraine began to pelt the blooddrinker with the rest of her throwing spikes as she kept walking forward. Two hit nothing but steel, the third sank into Rik's chest underneath his collarbone. She grasped the living sword in both hands and closed the final distance between them.