The Witches of Ne'arth (The Star Wizards Trilogy Book 2) (22 page)

The men wore gray uniforms, which Lachela recognized as the same as worn by the Captain who had been Lachela's first 'client.'  They all carried metal sticks, which Lachela recognized as different versions of the guns that had appeared in the demon's 'dream' that first night.  

Three boats in all lowered from the ship and rowed to the dock, bringing eighteen men in all.  The last boat brought none other than the Captain himself.  Archbishop Kantel greeted him and bowed obsequiously, and for the first time Lachela sensed that the Archbishop was subservient. 

The Captain shouted sternly.  The Archbishop cringed and pointed toward the office window.

“They've come for me,” Lachela said hollowly. 

“It is more likely they have come for me,” the demon said.

During the weeks of their association, Lachela had pieced together some of the truth about the demon.  He had a physical presence – albeit a small one – that traveled from person to person.  She was not the only one who knew of his existence.  Someone had been chasing the demon all these years, which was why he had changed host so many times. 

And so, the men were marching up the hill to the Residence with their guns, straight for his current host. 

She wondered what they would do to her.  Possibly kill her, but even if they didn't, what kind of life would she have without the demon?  Returned to a wretched existence like all the other orphans at Klun:  labor from dawn to dusk, abuse in all its forms, all privileges gone, no hope and no future. 

I would rather die
, she thought. 

“Well, they're not getting you.  I won't go back to the way things were!”

Lachela bolted out of the chair, surveying the scenery for an escape.  The Archbishop's Residence was surrounded by a high fence, and the approaching troops were blocking the sole exit from the yard.  As the Captain raised his eyes to the window, Lachela shrank from view.  In her hesitation, she knew, she had lost the chance to flee without confrontation. 

“Demon!  Is there a secret way out of this place?”

“I assume from the context of the current situation that you mean a hidden tunnel that links this building to another.”

“Yes, is there anything like that?”

“There is not anything like that.”

I would hit you if I could
– and if she wasn't so terrified.

The men filed through the gate, entered the lower level of the split-level Residence.  She heard shouts and tromping boots.  Lachela sank to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees and wept. 

“However,” the demon said, “it might be possible to escape via the utilization of hypermode.”

Choked by tears, she asked, “What is that?” 

“Hypermode is a means of electrochemical stimulation of the brain and nervous system to increase the subjective time-sense and biological reaction speed of the host organism.”

“That tells me nothing!” she spat.  Still, if the demon thought it was a chance, perhaps it was.  She wiped her eyes dry.  “Whatever it is, do it.”

“Would you like me to initiate hypermode warm-up at this time?”

Judging from the noise of the boots, the men were in the outer room.  Lachela heard the click of metal on metal.  She recognized that sound from the demon's dream.  They were readying their guns. 

“YES!  Whatever it takes!”

The office doors burst open.  The men streamed in and aimed their weapons at the girl weeping on the floor.

“FREEZE!”  one of them shouted at Lachela.  He turned to the hallway.  “All clear!”

The Captain and Archbishop entered.  The Captain stared at Lachela and scowled. 

“That is not the same girl,” the Captain said.

“I assure you that it
is
Lachela,” the Archbishop said meekly.  “The same that you were with.”

“She doesn't look anything the same!”

“Her appearance has changed, I admit.  In fact, the transformation occurred shortly after your visit.”

Uncertainty crept into the captain's voice:  “How is that possible?”

“I swear, I have no explanation.”

“You did not question it?”

“She is quite popular with our clientele, and as she has become a source of considerable revenue for the Abbey, I assumed we were being blessed by the Lords of Aereoth.”

Lachela doubted the Archbishop believed anything of the sort.  The Captain's scowl indicated he agreed.

The Captain shook his head.  “Well, I was warned she was full of tricks.”

A groan came from the parlor.  Sir Kenwol staggered into the office.  He took in the scene and said, “What the blazes is – ”

“FREEZE!” shouted the soldier who had shouted 'FREEZE' before.  While the others kept their guns trained on Lachela, he aimed at Sir Kenwol's chest.

Kenwol bellowed:  “I am a Minister in the Cabinet – “

“You'll be in the grave if you don't shut!” the Captain snapped.  He motioned and a pair of soldiers violently shoved Kenwol back into the parlor and slammed the door. 

The Captain addressed his men:  “This will go as briefed.  Escort her to the ship's brig.  Keep two meter separation at all times.  If she attempts to flee, shoot to kill.  If she attempts to touch you, again the order is shoot to kill.  Clear?”

“Aye!” they said in unison.

The Archbishop's gaze fell to the ashtray on his desk.  His face contorted in rage.  “
You little vixen!
”  He snatched the cigar butt, stooped over Lachela and wagged it before her nose.  “Do you have any idea of the expense of these?”  As she tried to turn, he grabbed her chin.  “
Do you?
” 

“FREEZE!”

The Archbishop shifted his gaze and stared blankly into the barrel of a rifle.  “What – what is this?”

“You touched her, you idiot!”  the Captain said.  He barked to his men:  “If he moves, shoot him as well!”

“I – I – I don't understand.  I simply – “

While in the office the Archbishop stammered his innocence and the Captain explained his orders, inside Lachela's head the demon spoke :  “Hypermode is in standby.”

Lachela whispered, “What does that mean?”

“That it is ready to be initiated.”

Always the game of One Thing Means Another!
  “Does that mean you can do it now?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it now!”

“First, an obligatory warning.  As you have never experienced hypermode before, there is risk of physical injury from sudden or abrupt movements.  It is therefore recommended that I constrain your movements within safe limits while in hypermode.  May I have permission to do so?”

“Whatever it takes!  Quickly!”

“Commencing hypermode.”

And with that, the whole world shuddered and blurred.  The floor wrenched and she felt as if she were falling.  The lighting grew dim.  The men spoke in baritone, laboriously enunciating every syllable. 

Lachela drew a breath; it was like she was breathing through thick fabric.  She flailed in panic – and found that it was like she was trapped inside a vat of syrup.

“Demon!” she cried.  The words piled in her larynx:  “What . . . is . . . going . . . on?”

“Hypermode has commenced.  You have sixty seconds, starting . . . now.”

A horizontal green bar hovered in the air above her head, too bright to be real.  Lachela knew it was one of those imaginary things the demon made that appeared in her sight alone, like the window that had shown a magnified view of the airship.  As she wondered what it was for, she noticed that it was starting to shorten.  She sensed that was significant.   

The room brightened, albeit in an off-color way that suggested it was not real light at all but something the demon was doing to her vision.  The captain was still speaking to the Archbishop, apparently yet the same sentence.  The soldiers seemed unnaturally still.   

Lachela strived to push whispered words through her mouth.  “I . . . don't . . . under . . . .”

“May I suggest that if you wish to speak more rapidly,” the demon said, “you may subvocalize your statements.”

Lachela guessed that subvocalization meant how she communicated with the demon when she expressed a wish. 
I don't understand how this 'hyper-thing' helps me.
 

“Please think your words louder.”

Think
louder
?  Lachela tried thinking of moving lungs, mouth, and lips without actually doing so:  “Can you hear me now?”

“Yes.”

“I am still trapped.  How does this 'hyper-thing' help me?”

“You may attempt to walk out the door.”

A quarter of the green bar had vanished.  Although she still wasn't quite sure why or how, Lachela sensed the bar's diminishing had to do with time available for the escape, and concluded it wasn't much.  She decided to obey the demon, for despite the absurdity, she had no choice.

She attempted to stand.  An invisible force pushed against her all the way.  She stepped toward the door.  To her senses she was moving quite slow, almost lethargically.  The soldiers, however, did not seem aware of her movement at first.  Finally, with another step, the one of eye of one soldier started to shift.  His expression changed to shock, his eyelids creeping apart at the speed of a snail.

The
Freeze!
soldier opened his mouth and bleated something slow in a deep voice.  He turned his gun from where Lachela had been to where she was moving.  He pulled the trigger.  The gun tip blossomed fire. 

Lachela heard a thunderous boom.  A small black thing like a beetle flew from the tip of the weapon and streaked centimeters behind her spine, embedding in the wall with a plume of plaster dust.

“
Demon!
  What was that?” 

“That was a bullet.  A bullet can cause serious harm if it impacts your body.  You appear to be targeted by guns and therefore in danger of being impacted by bullets.”

“What do I do?”

“I suggest you walk faster.”  

Lachela was already doing that as he spoke.  She forged toward the door, grunting against the invisible force that made air seemed as resistant as water to her movement.  Around her, the soldiers slowly turned their weapons, tracking her.  She quickened her pace.  The barrels spewed fire and the room filled with their thunder and bullets buzzed past like a disrupted-hive-worth of angry bees. 

Lachela watched with fascination as one bullet struck the window, which splintered into shards that twirled like crystalline ballerinas.  The shards should have fallen instantly to the floor, but instead took seconds to drift down to it.   Realization dawned: 
The world has slowed for me! 

The floating green bar dwindled to half-length, flashed thrice and turned yellow. 

With determination, she exited the office.  The soldiers in the hallway had time only to widen their eyes and open their mouths and then she was at the entry.  Once outside, she sidestepped a knot of soldiers who had no time to react at all.  She headed for the gate. 

The bar flashed thrice and turned red, down to quarter-length.

Free under open sky, she wondered where to.  For now, she decided, as far from the Residence as possible.  As she moved, she remembered the falling shards and an idea came to her.  She leaned forward and pushed with her legs.  As she had thought, both feet left the ground and she sailed through the air, farther than she'd ever seen a person leap. 

Another bound, and she was on the main path, around the corner, halfway to the orphanage . . . whereupon she realized that would be the first place the soldiers would look. 

“Demon, where should I – “

The bar had become a dot.  It flashed thrice and vanished. 

The world shuddered.  The sky lightened but Lachela staggered under the returned sense of weight.  She gasped and cursed.  And then she heard the shouts of the soldiers nearing.

“Demon!  Return me into 'hyper-thing!'”

“Hypermode recharge will require twelve hours.”  Pause.  “I suggest you go there as indicated.”

A disembodied arrow flashed ahead, pointing to the left as the path she was on intersected another.  Lachela scurried as best as her fancy dress and recovery from hypermode would allow.  The arrow danced before and above her, pointing toward a dilapidated, windowless building.  Assuming the demon meant it as a place to hide, Lachela raced toward the thick and immobile door. 

She pounded and a slot opened above the center and a pair of eyes glared down.  A deep voice growled:  “What do you want?”

“Let me in!” Lachela cried.

“I know who you are.  You have no authority here.  Go back to the orphanage, young miss!”

He slammed the slot shut.  Lachela raised a hand to the slot and pounded until he opened it again.

“Miss, I told you – “

Her poised fingertip touched his nose bridge.  His eyes went wide and stared at nothing.

“Open the door.”

The lock clicked and the door swung open.  The man was huge, unfit, and slovenly.  That and his paleness indicated he didn't get out much.  Lachela nudged him aside and surveyed the interior.