SoulQuest (15 page)

Holtz was knocked back a few paces, and shook away the dizziness, Ekala’s boot-print still marking his forehead. While he still recovered, Ekala collected her boomerang from the spot where it landed. Holtz leaped, striking the ground and holding the staff vertically, using it as a post to launch himself at Ekala. Holtz kicked her in the chest, but he didn’t see her throw the recently-recovered weapon a moment before she was hit.

Ekala landed on hard her back, throwing up a cloud of dust, and Holtz’s foot pinned her down. He beckoned with his fingers and his held the bladed staff up against her throat. The boomerang had hit its apex and now flew back. Its bladed edge sliced into Holtz’s back. When he cringed, his staff moved from the precarious position over Ekala’s throat, and she was able to knock the assassin off her. She scrambled to her feet.
 

Holtz reached one hand to the wound, pulling out the crimson-spattered boomerang, and seeing his own blood on his gloved fingers. He discarded the boomerang, gripped his staff with both hands and pulled it apart, turning it into dual scimitars.
 

Ekala sighed. “Oh come
on!
”

Holtz came at her, but a figure dive-bombed, hitting him from behind. Swul landed on Holtz, and as the assassin skidded along the platform, Swul rode him, knees on Holtz’s back, his hands holding Holtz’s shoulders. As they came to the edge of the platform, Swul jumped off and flew into the air.

Holtz, however, went over the edge, still clutching his dual scimitars.

Swul dusted off his hands and looked in Ekala’s direction. He tipped his hat to her. She smiled and shook her head. “Knew you couldn’t stay away.”

“An’ let you two foul things up?” he asked.

Nyx arrived at that moment. When Nyx and Swul laid eyes on each other, there was a pause. The two of them just stared for a few moments, leaving Ekala to look at both with confusion. “So … what’s with the awkward silence?”

“Oh!” Nyx’s cheeks flushed red and she looked away. “N-nothing.”

“Right.” Swul tugged on the brim of his hat, trying to pull it lower over his eyes. “Nothin’.”
 

Albion arrived, holding Zarim by his hood. They landed amidst the others. Albion did not fail to notice the awkward tension between the exiled faerie and Nyx.

Zarim’s brow furrowed. “Everything okay?”

“We must find the King,” said Albion.

“He’s fine, Tanus is with him,” said Ekala.

“But there were only two assassins, yes?” asked Albion.

“Yeah, why?” asked Ekala.

“There were three sets of tracks in the forest,” said Albion.

With his back to the wall, Tanus peered out from the cavern. He kept his gun-arm at the ready, waiting for the slightest provocation. His time with the Dreadnoughts taught him to be prepared for any eventuality, no matter what it might be. He would not allow himself to be caught unawares, not while Oberon was under his guardianship.

“Damn,” he hissed.

“What is it?” asked Oberon.

“I can see the enemy, and he’s big,” said Tanus.

Just past the ledge, he could see the massive, golem-like form of Graf slowly approaching from the ground. Slung over his shoulder was a heavy, iron chain attached to a handle gripped in his hand. On the other end was a spiked ball, hanging by his back.
 

“Can you open that vault again?” asked Tanus.

“No, I need the aid of Nephelm’s designated mystic. For security purposes, so no one faerie can access the treasures within,” said Oberon.

“Ironic that your security measures are what’s keeping us from being secure,” muttered Tanus. “Just stay back and say nothing. Even if he knows where we are, there’s no way he can get up here.”

Below, Graf stopped at the cliff. He turned his head upward and smiled. The mammoth coiled his legs and sprung, the strength of those muscles enabling him to soar high. He swung his flail, and it hooked to the ledge. With one hand holding the flail and his feet set against the rocks, he pulled himself up just enough for his other hand to find purchase on the ridge. The former Dreadnought was so surprised that he failed to act, and this gave Graf the moment of opportunity he needed to climb onto the platform. Graf had seemed large viewed from above, but up close, his colossal form was enough to make Tanus feel like a child.

“Give me the faerie and you shall live,” said Graf.

Tanus’ response was a pulse from his gun-arm. The ball of energy struck Graf’s chest and he shuddered for a moment, but quickly shook it off. He grinned and pulled his arm back, hurling the other end of the flail forward. Tanus jumped to safety, but when the flail struck the rocky surface, a tremor followed and Tanus found difficulty maintaining his footing. When he attempted to fire, his aim was off, and the pulses went right past Graf without any harm.

Graf swung the flail again, and Tanus rolled forward, beneath the swinging chain. His range grew closer, and he fired again, managing to strike the iron links. It threw off the flail’s momentum, and the spiked ball crashed down. Tanus checked the reserves of his arm’s battery. If he built up a strong enough charge, he might be able to bring this to an end right now. Of course, that would mean he had no other defense from Graf until it was fully charged, so he would need to move fast.

Tanus circled around Graf, delivering a quick jab with his human hand against the behemoth’s back. That only seemed to make the mammoth mad, and Graf turned, swatting Tanus with the back of his hand as if the former soldier was nothing more than a buzzing fly. Tanus went limp as the hand struck him, his body striking the hard rock. He lay prostrate on the ground, desperately trying to force his body to move. He could see the charge meter on his arm was almost at a hundred per cent, but he couldn’t lift his arm to fire.

Graf didn’t waste any more time. His eyes scanned the area and he saw the cavern. It was too small for him to enter, but it was a starting point. As he stalked closer, he said in a sing-song tone, “I smell the blood of a faerie king.”

He slammed the flail against the walls of the cavern, spraying rubble at each stroke. Stone cracked and crumbled, creating an entryway big enough for Graf to wedge himself inside. He reached deep after the faerie king and his fingers finally wrapped around his writhing prize. When he pulled his arm out he, indeed, had the faerie king in his grasp. Oberon struggled, but his arms and his wings were pinned in Graf’s giant grip. Graf could feel the power of the Soulstone pulsing between him and Oberon.

“He...sent you...” Speech had now grown difficult for the faerie king.

“Mmm,” said Graf. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“S-suspected,” said Oberon.

“A pity you won’t be here when he remakes this world into a better one.”
 

“N-no...!” muttered Tanus, struggling to lift his arm up.
 

Graf slammed the king against the rocky surface until the Soulstone fell free from the faerie’s body. When Graf raised his hand up, Oberon’s body was motionless. With a chuckle, Graf cast the body of the faerie king aside. He picked the Soulstone and smiled one last time at Tanus. “Until we meet again.”

“No!” cried Tanus, finally managing to move his arm forward. But by the time he fired the pulse, Graf had already leapt from the cliff, back to the ground below. Tanus looked at the charge meter. The battery reserves were drained and now, the arm was nothing more than a hunk of metal.

“NO!” The cry came from Albion some time later as he and the others descended upon the cliff. Albion flew immediately to his king’s side, finding Oberon barely clinging to life.
 

“Do not try to move,” said Albion. “Nyx! We need healing magic!”

“N-no, too far... gone...” said Oberon. “You must...must tell...Zarim...V-Vor...tai...”

With that last word on his breath, the King of Nephelm fell into an eternal sleep. Albion shut his eyes and lowered his head to his lord’s chest, allowing it to rest there for a few moments.

Zarim and Ekala helped Tanus up to his feet, a solemn expression upon his face. Nyx was at Albion’s side, her hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing it with affection. Swul stood a few feet away from them, watching the couple, and staring at the body of his former king. He finally turned his back on them and prepared to smoke a cigar.

“He...got the stone,” said Tanus. “I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t.”

Albion slowly stood. He turned to face the group of outsiders. “I thank you for your efforts to protect our city and our King.”

“What happens now?” asked Zarim.

“The King’s last words were a name, I believe the one behind this,” said Albion. “Vortai.”

“Oh perfect...” muttered Zarim. Tanus’ face bore a look of dread.

“I take it you know this name?” asked Nyx.

“Not me,” said Ekala. “Who’s Vortai?”

“The High Priest of the Church of Illumination,” said Tanus. “And a trusted advisor to the Emperor himself.”

“We’ve already taken down two of his flunkies,” said Zarim.

“And got beat by two others,” said Ekala. “Not exactly high marks in our column.”

“Nor in his,” said Tanus.
 

“Were I in a position to, I would join you.” Albion took another look at Oberon’s body. “But I have responsibilities to tend to. Still, honor demands one of the King’s subjects avenge his death.”

“What, you gonna send one of yer warriors with us?” asked Swul.

“Yes, one of our finest,” said Albion. “You.”

Swul’s jaw dropped, and the cigar resting between his lips hit the ground.
 

“I am hereby revoking your exile,” said Albion.
 

“How can you do that?” asked Tanus. “Isn’t that something only the king can do?”

“He
is
the King,” said Nyx. “Son of Oberon and heir to the throne of Nephelm.”

Albion stepped closer to Swul, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Will you accept?”

Swul nodded. “Sure, I’ll do it. But only ‘cause I don’t want yer ugly mug comin’ along.”

“I’ll have your back. I owe that bastard for slapping me around like he did,” said Tanus. “Now that we know what we’re up against, what’s our next move?”

“We take the fight to Vortai, get back what’s ours,” said Zarim.

“You sure that’s wise?” asked Nyx.

“I’m sick of being kicked around. Now that we know who we’re dealing with, it’s time for some action,” said Zarim. “We’re going to Serenity.”

Swul, Ekala, and Tanus sat around the table in the common area, each of them holding several playing cards in their hand. Play went to Swul, who drew two and discarded one. He plucked his cigar from the ashtray by his side, puffing on it while Ekala took her turn. She discarded and drew a single card, her eyes fixed on her drinking buddy.

“So...seemed like there was some history between you and Nyx,” she said.

“
Ancient
history is what it was.”

Tanus went next. Like Ekala, he drew and discarded only one. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the faerie. Their first meeting hadn’t gone smoothly, but after the events at Nephelm, Swul did appear to be more cordial to him. Or at least what passed for cordial given the source.

“Have anything to do with Albion being a prince?” asked Ekala.

Swul’s silence provided more of an answer than Ekala needed. Not only did Albion factor into the situation, but Swul wasn’t quite as emotionally detached as he’d like them to believe. She’d known him long enough to tell when he was posturing. She let the subject lie, along with her cards, placing them face-up on the table. “Show ‘em.”

Swul looked at the cards, clenching his teeth when he saw her hand. He threw his cards down. “Damn. I know yer cheatin’, one of these days I’m gonna find out how.”

Ekala grinned as she reached for the coins in the pot. Tanus gently held up his mechanical hand. “Hold on.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “You’re kidding.”

With a tiny smirk, Tanus turned over his cards to show it was him who had the better hand. “This is supposed to be good, right?”

Ekala leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, her lips pouting slightly. Swul chuckled while puffing on his cigar. “Serves y’ right, ya cheatin’ minx.”
 

“Whatever, you boys have fun. I’m heading to the bridge.”

She stood and left the common area. Once she was gone, Swul’s wings flapped, carrying him from his chair and over to one of the latched cabinets. “You want a drink?”

Tanus was surprised by the gesture. Even though Swul seemed more relaxed around him, he had yet to say more than three words to the former Dreadnought. Swul tapped his hand on the cabinet’s surface as he waited for a response. “Well? Ain’t a difficult question.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Tanus.

Swul opened the cabinet and took two small glasses and a bottle. He flew back to the table with all three, pushing aside the cards and setting them down. The faerie filled each glass with the clear liquid and passed one over to Tanus, then jammed the cork back into the opening.

The pungent stench of the liquor hit Tanus before he could raise the glass to his face. He took the glass in his human hand and Swul raised his towards the larger man. “Here’s to kickin’ the crap outta this Vortai sumbitch.”

Tanus nodded and drained his glass in one gulp. His eyes bugged and he started coughing as if he’d just inhaled a lungful of smoke and his throat felt like it was on fire. Swul burst out into uproarious laughter. Tanus’ hacking continued for another moment or two before he could finally find the ability to speak once more. “Wh-what was that?”

“Street name’s inferno. Fitting, eh?” Swul threw back his glass, the drink flowing down his throat without any difficulty. He let out a sigh of satisfaction. “Pretty much banned from the market these days, but Ekala knows a guy in Delfor who sets aside a case for us whenever we drop in.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick...” said Tanus, still coughing a bit.

“Yeah, that’s how most people feel after the first time.” Swul offered a cigar to Tanus, who accepted. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Really think I’m gonna let that shit touch my lips again?” asked Tanus while he took the matches from Swul.