Firesign 1 - Wage Slave Rebellion (38 page)

Mazik fell on the ranged casters with a vengeance. Taking advantage of his lack of immediate allies, he fired in every direction simultaneously. The spells aimed at Gavi and Raedren petered off precipitously, and began to fall silent.

“Mazik, watch out!” shouted Gavi as Mazik pummeled Crimson and Sasha.

Mazik leapt in a direction at random, and ran right into Hammer. Fortunately he was too close for the man to properly swing his war hammer, so after only a couple of bone-rattling strikes with the butt of his weapon, Mazik managed to throw dirt in the bigger man’s eyes and run away.

“I think they’re mad!” said Mazik as he scrambled back to his friends, spells ripping into the sand behind him. That’s when Tattoo appeared out of a cloud of indigo smoke and tackled Mazik, his knife scything toward Mazik’s throat.

“You think?” said Gavi as she struggled with Savage.

“Don’t worry about me over here,” said Raedren as he grappled with five cultists. With a surge of green mana, he managed to push them away.

“—
gah!
” said Mazik as he got his head out from under the cultist’s sweaty chest. Pulling his free arm close—his other was locked on the man’s wrist, keeping the knife away from his neck—he tried to push the cultist away with a force spell to the gut. When this proved impossible, he settled for a knee to the crotch. “Incoming!”

Gavi looked over toward Mazik, and then gasped and dove, barely making it out of the way of a ballistic Tattoo. Savage wasn’t so lucky.

“Sorry about that,” said Mazik as he rose shakily to his feet. He shook his rattled head.

Gavi surveyed their enemies. They were only facing about fifteen cultists now, but a third of those were the stronger newcomers.

“We need to do something. We’re going to get overwhelmed,” she said as she raised her sword. It felt heavier, despite the mana she was continually using to rejuvenate herself.

Mazik gripped his knife. “If you can give me one minute, I might be able to take care of—”

“
Rejected!
” said Gavi and Raedren simultaneously.

That’s when the three of them realized that the cultists’ attention wasn’t on them anymore. It was focused on the middle of the arena, where shouts and flashes of light could be seen that weren’t there a minute prior. Mazik and the others peered around their enemies to see what was going on.

“Aren’t those our people?” asked Raedren. Sure enough, several adventurers were attacking the True Head Cultist, locking their blades with other cultists as they fired past them at the enemy leader.

“Fuck yeah! That’s—” Mazik started, but his mood instantly darkened when he noticed what else was happening. “Oh fuck. What the hell are they doing…?”

*      *      *

The True Head Cultist’s back was bowed nearly to the breaking point. Casting even a simple spell imposes a strain on the caster, which is why casting continually will tire even the most powerful of casters eventually. It’s the same as lifting weights—the body may be trained to lift a weight hundreds of time, but eventually the strain will build until their body collapses, or breaks.

The True Head Cultist was currently doing the spell casting equivalent of lifting hundreds of kilos over his head for minutes at a time, and though he was powerful, the strain threatened to hobble him. He was sorely testing his endurance, and even he didn’t know if he had enough.

Nearest him were four cultists, two to his left and two to his right. They were far more animated than their leader was, all of them bowing, swaying, and chanting as they wove their spells. Their work appeared to be bearing fruit—between each pair was a new circle of runes, their lines shuddering and writhing as they vented bulbous clouds of foul light into the air.

The True Head Cultist bent to his casting, his hand tracing shaky runes in the air despite the impossible weight bearing down on him. Inside his head, he snarled.
I did not betray everything in my mortal life to
not
obtain everlasting power at the hand of my Lord.

The cultist leader redoubled his efforts. He received only a small increase in speed for his pain.

*      *      *

Gavi gaped. “That … doesn’t look good,” she said, her sword drooping in distraction.

Spells exploded around them, and a similarly distracted Raedren went flying. He flopped to the ground and rolled, coming to a stop against an overturned column.

“Crud,” said Mazik. While Gavi ran over to Raedren, Mazik watched as all the low-level cultists split off to help the True Head Cultist. The five Loci remained, but they appeared to be arguing.

Gavi helped Raedren sit up. “Are you okay?”

“Ugh…” said Raedren. He shook his head, and then winced. “Yeah, I’m pain. I mean okay.”

Mazik grabbed a blank stone block, dragging it over to increase their cover. Then he crouched behind the overturned column with the others.

“You okay? Good. So you’re the one who read up on these guys,” said Mazik. He nudged Raedren, and then nodded toward the plumes of mana. “Any idea what that’s about?”

Raedren leaned around their impromptu barricade and examined the roiling spires of mana. “That’s a summoning ceremony.”

“Fuck,” said Mazik. He looked over the column, and then back. “Are you sure?”

“Allow me to present my evidence,” said Raedren with an unnecessary flourish of the hand. There was a solid five seconds of silence while he waited for the little men inside his head to stop trying to hammer their way out, and then he gave up and went on anyway.

“
One
, that really, really looks like a summoning ceremony.” Raedren held up a second finger. “Two, they’re crazy div cultists. Summoning horrible things is pretty much what they do. Three, shut up, I know what I’m talking about. Also I read about them earlier, remember?”

“I’m not sure I like this new attitude of his,” said Mazik. Once his mana pool was refilled, a thin mist of mana began leaking away from him in every direction.

“Oh, you know he gets sarcastic when he gets brain damage,” said Gavi.

“True,” said Mazik. “So we have a bunch of crazy divs who are probably summoning something horrible, we have a bunch of as-innocent-as-any-Houkian-ever-is people who need protecting, and—oh for fuck’s sake.” Mazik sighed. “They’re after the hostages again.”

Gavi looked toward the Gate of Life and found Sergeant Kolhn’s squad swimming in cultists. They had gotten reinforcements from the adventurers dropping down through the damage shield, but most of them were heading for the battle in the middle, while the cultists attacking the hostages had swelled to three times the defenders.

“So we have a bunch of quasi-innocent people who
urgently
need help, and we still don’t want to let these nutjobs get the rest of this knife,” finished Mazik. “Gavi, what do you think?”

“What, I’m making the plan now?” asked Gavi.

“You bet,” said Mazik. He watched as the Loci turned back toward them, having apparently come to a decision. Two of them, Sasha and Crimson, ran toward the True Head Cultist and began firing on the adventurers attacking him, while a third had long since disappeared. “I’ll make sure you aren’t bothered.”

“But—”

There was a ripple in the mana mist to Mazik’s right. He immediately pivoted and fired, and the spell exploded, sending Tattoo tumbling out. Mazik leapt forward and tried to bury his knife in the man’s chest, but the cultist was already rolling away.

“You’re busy. Right.”

Gavi’s mind churned, turning over choices like a student with thirty questions left on a test that would end in two minutes. What should they
do?

Suddenly, Gavi remembered:

Mazik pulled Gavi close, hugging her. “What I’m trying to say is, you make the whole team better just by using your head!”

Gavi took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s what I thin—here’s what we’re going to do. Our number-one priority is still to make sure they don’t get the rest of the knife. If they’re willing to risk all of this”—she waved at the arena, the barrier, the fresh blood staining the sand—“then they probably have something bad in mind. I don’t know how they can expect to live through this, so they either
don’t
, or … yeah, something bad.

“The smartest thing to do would be to sit here and wait it out, but the longer we wait the more likely it is they’ll overwhelm us, or even just get lucky and get the rest of the knife. Then there’s the hostages to think of. We—”

“Gavs, you don’t have to justify your plan to us,” said Mazik as he sprayed mana like an incontinent machine gun. He repulsed a cultist charge, sending them tumbling. “We trust you. Whatever you decide will probably be good, and if we don’t like it, we’ll tell you.”

Gavi smiled, with just a hint of a blush. “We need to protect the knife, but I don’t want to let them get the hostages back either. I want to say we should go save them now, but we can’t risk dragging a bunch of these powerful divs over there or we’ll just makes things worse. If we can kill or incapacitate two or three of these guys though, we can go help them.”

Mazik looked back at Gavi, surprised. “That’s ruthless, Gavs.”

“Cold-blooded,” agreed Raedren as he climbed to his feet.

“If you have a better idea—”

“Hey, I never said I didn’t like it.” Mazik patted Gavi’s head. She blushed and swatted his hand away.

“What about that ceremony?” asked Mazik, nodding toward the middle of the arena.

“If they’re diverting that many people to retrieve hostages while their leader is under attack, they probably need them for whatever they’re summoning,” said Gavi. “Two birds, one stone.”

“I like it,” said Mazik. “And did you have a plan for how to kill over half of these guys?”

“Uh, I was hoping you would have an idea on that,” said Gavi.

“Well, whatever we’re going to do, we should do it fast.” Raedren pointed across the arena.

The trio looked over in time to see several cultists dash past Sergeant Kolhn’s squad and snatch hostages from their overwhelmed protectors. The number of hostages the cultists had reclaimed was nearing double digits already.

“Yeah, we should hurry,” said Mazik. The three Loci had collected themselves and were fanning out for another attack.

“You both ready?” asked Mazik.

“Close enough,” said Raedren. Gavi nodded.

“Good,” said Mazik. Then he giggled and leapt over the overturned column. “I’ll take the one in black!”

“They’re all in black!” Gavi yelled after him. She sighed. “Why does he always have to charge in like that? Ugh…”

Mazik let loose a terrific bellow and leapt at the reappearing Hammer, delivering a spinning uppercut to the man’s chin that snapped his head so far back he nearly bruised his own shoulder blades. Mazik laughed as he danced away.

Raedren touched Gavi’s shoulder, and she felt strength flood into her as her enhancements were strengthened. Then he snapped his fingers, and barriers appeared around Gavi and the distant Mazik. He nodded toward their friend. “We should probably help him.”

“Agreed.” The two climbed over the overturned column and joined the battle.

Hammer, Savage, and Tattoo had Mazik completely surrounded. Though they had tried to use their superior invisibility to get the drop on him, a combination of his mana mist and a volley of spells fired indiscriminately around him knocked them out of stealth before they could do any damage. That gave Mazik the chance to get in a few good shots, but that time was over.

Gavi came in from the side like a stagecoach robber riding up on her target, her head lowered and her sword aimed at Hammer’s exposed flank. Gavi was only a few steps away when the distant Sasha, now running back toward the fray, called out a warning. Hammer brought his weapon around to block, but he was too slow; Gavi’s sword slid past his guard and along his side just below his armpit, his barriers rattling as Gavi’s sword drew a long cut through his robes.

Hammer reeled, but Mazik was still beleaguered. That’s where Raedren came in—he pushed his way past Mazik and positioned himself between his friend and the attacking cultists, two small barriers poised in front of either hand.

Savage and Tattoo reared back, raising their weapons. Raedren stepped forward and shoved his tiny barriers in their chests, using the repulsive effect to shove the cultists back, largely unharmed.

Mazik rubbed his shoulder as the cultists collected themselves. “Okay, who’s our target?”

“The two finger wigglers,” said Gavi as the cultists in question made their return known; Raedren and Mazik held out barriers to block Crimson and Sasha’s searing spells. “We can contain the other three, but we can’t risk letting those two get close to the hostages. They could do a lot of damage by accident, and even more if they get mad start attacking them in earnest.”

“Agreed,” said Mazik. The melee cultists surged forward. Mazik leapt back, dodging a strike from Hammer, and then cried out as another salvo from Crimson and Sasha struck him. He came out the other side, mana streaming off his body.

“Get out of my
way!
” growled Mazik as he lunged to the side. He barely managed to dodge an attack from Savage, with Gavi stepping forward to keep her busy. Hammer tried as well, but Raedren was there to intercept his attack. That left Mazik with only Tattoo between him and the distant casters.

As Mazik watched, his opponent disappeared in a flash of smoke. Mazik replied with a series of nukes, but they all missed, and he knocked himself off balance with the explosions. As the spells jostled Hammer and Raedren, Mazik took two steps back and slashed wildly with his knife to his right.

Tattoo came in from the other side, his combat knife raking across Mazik’s exposed back.

“Fuckin’
hell!
” said Mazik as he staggered, a long cut opening up through his barriers. He spun again and raised his knife to block, his arm shuddering as Tattoo’s follow-up blow connected. There was a
snap
, and something heavy fell to the sand next to him.

Mazik stared at his knife. It was broken, the metal snapped in the same place the blacksmiths broke the cultist knife he was fighting so hard to deny them.