Warbound: Book Three of the Grimnoir Chronicles (46 page)

Francis had never gotten a message from the society quite like that before.

The message had been fairly straightforward, mostly because the elders didn’t have many details to share. They suspected something very bad was about to happen, especially in places where Actives lived. Any place with a lot of magic collected in one spot was a potential target. Of what, they couldn’t particularly say. The threats were of an unknown nature. They didn’t say who had set them off, but a knight had brought them a warning that all magicals were in potential danger.

Francis had a sneaking suspicion that this was somehow related to Faye . . .

John Browning was overseeing all Grimnoir operations in the United States, and he was busily shuffling knights about to cover potential hot spots. Word had been put out discreetly to all of their friends and allies in the military and among the police. Discreet being the key word, since they really didn’t want the OCI to think that they were fomenting some sort of Active uprising. They’d already been through that once this year.

As soon as Francis had received the message, he’d known right where to go. If he was some sort of unknown threat looking to target Actives, he’d head right toward the town built for them and advertised as paradise.

Dan Garrett parked their car in the woods on the way into Drew Town. Jane opened the trunk and started removing guns. When you didn’t know what kind of trouble to expect, it was best to bring guns and friends with guns. Francis took the P17 Enfield and threw a leather bandolier of shells over his shoulder. They were dressed like they were going hunting, and he supposed, in a way, that’s exactly what they were doing.

“We play it quiet. We’re just taking a little walk through the forest, picking a spot, and watching the town.” Dan removed a backpack from the trunk. “I got the sandwiches.”

“You’re so clever to bring food,” Jane said as she took out a guitar case. “I only brought this Thompson submachine gun.”

“Heh . . . That’s my girl.”

There were headlights on the road behind them, but instead of passing by and continuing on toward the town, they slowed and pulled off behind them. “You expecting anybody else?” Francis asked.

Dan shook his head. “Everybody else is scoping out other places.”

“If it’s the cops, we’ll just say that we’re going coyote hunting.”

Dan looked down at the gigantic Browning automatic rifle he was removing from the trunk. “Apparently, they grow some tough coyotes out here . . . Don’t worry. I’ll talk our way out of this.”

A car door closed. A moment later they saw that somebody was coming through the trees, making their way quietly with no flashlight, but not trying to hide their presence. “Francis? Is that you?”

It was a woman’s voice. “Hammer? What are you doing here?”

“Following you!” she called back.

“Oh, good,” Dan said. “The one person I’m entirely incapable of charming.”

The BI agent got close enough that they could see her clearly in the moonlight. “Hoover ordered me to have you tailed. He said the Grimnoir are up to something.” She looked over the open trunk and the growing pile of weapons. “Guess he was right. Look, I know where we are, and considering the timing, I know what you’re doing, and I could order my boys to come in and arrest you right now, but I really do like you, so I’m going to try and talk you out of it instead.”

“Talk us out of what?”

“Oh, you just happen to show up in Drew Town, a place which stands for everything you’re against, right when the architect of the whole scheme is there taking a tour? I don’t like that Cog bastard either. He strikes me as a sleaze and an opportunist, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard the man utter a completely true sentence, but messing with him won’t accomplish a thing but make you more enemies.”

Francis sighed. “Hammer, tune up that lie detector and try this on for size. I don’t give a damn about Roosevelt’s buddy. We’re only here because we got a message saying that places with lots of Actives congregated might be in danger. Don’t know what, but from the message I’ve got a gut feeling it could be really bad.” As soon as he said that, he began to develop a splitting headache. “Ow, damn it. Now get out of there. See?”

“You’re telling the truth.” Hammer breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I was worried there y’all were about to do something incredibly stupid. It didn’t feel right.”

Thankfully the headache let up when her Power did. “Great. Now scram back to your boss and tell him we’re the good guys. We’re going to keep an eye out for . . .
something.”

“Uh huh . . . Something.” Hammer went over to the trunk and pointed at a short-barreled Winchester Model 12. “You using that?” she asked Jane.

“My hands are already full.”

“Mind if I borrow that?” Hammer picked up the shotgun, checked it, and pumped a round into the chamber. Then she picked up a box of buckshot and started shoving shells into her coat pockets. “I’ve seen what you Grimnoir’s idea of
something
is. Your last
something
stomped on half of Washington.” Agent Pemberly Hammer of the Bureau of Investigation set out into the woods. “Come on. I took the tour with Director Hoover last week. I know a good spot on a rise where we can see most of the town.”

The three knights watched her go. Dan hoisted up the backpack and BAR. “I should’ve packed more sandwiches.”

Free City of Shanghai

Toru
had not seen this memory before.

Okubo was sitting on the mat in his study. The doors had been slid open, providing him with a better view of the manicured garden. He had been watching flower petals float down the stream and inspired, had called for his servants to bring his writing desk. He had put quill to scroll and was attempting to capture the moment in a poem.

Hattori waited patiently for his Lord to finish writing. It was not good to interrupt the greatest wizard in the world when he was trying to write poetry. Okubo scowled and marked out a line. Sometimes even the best amongst them could be frustrated when he simply could not find the words.

“Small moments of beauty . . . They may seem a trifling thing for warriors to contemplate, especially when compared to the mighty events surrounding us, yet it is still important to take the time to appreciate such things,” Okubo explained as he went back to writing. There was no need for someone of his status to make apologies, so he was merely speaking because he felt like it. “A warrior must understand what he fights for in order to strike with a pure heart.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Hattori said, his voice sounding far too deep.

“What do you fight for?”

The question caught him off guard.

“What brings you here, my son?”

Hattori was gone. Toru was not watching a memory at all. He was sitting across from his father. He froze. His blood turned to ice. His stomach filled with pained knots. Realizing that he was not even bowing, the quickly placed his forehead to the floor. “Forgive me, Chairman!”

“Rise, Toru. Such deference is not necessary. I no longer hold the office of Chairman because I am dead. I am merely a restless ghost, unable to move on.”

Toru lifted his head. Tears filled his eyes. “I have failed you.”

“No. It was I who failed. In looking to the future, I tried to shape the world in my image. I was so focused on my great goals that I failed to see the small darkness hidden among my closest followers. I have often warned that the Enemy was not to be underestimated, yet I was guilty of this myself. I prepared to counter its fearsome strength, and did not realize it was capable of subtle trickery.”

“Is the world lost, then?”

“No. Though you are close, you are not dead yet, and as long as a warrior’s heart beats he may still strike at his foe. There is more to be done.” Okubo Tokugawa stood, walked over to Toru, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You are my son. I can no longer fight in this battle, but you will serve in my stead. I did not choose a successor before I was taken. That was an error caused by my hubris. Fate placed you in the path of these events, and you have valued truth above glory. Honor over tradition. You have proven yourself worthy to be my heir. The survival of the Imperium is your responsibility now. The future of the world will be decided by your actions. The future of our family is in your hands.”

Toru was so choked with emotion that he could barely respond. “I will not fail.”

“I am humbled by your devotion. I have many regrets from my life. One of them is that I did not realize the greatness inherent in some of my descendants. I am pleased with you, Toru . . . When you call upon me in your greatest time of need, I will grant you strength.”

“I will not fail!” Toru bellowed again.

“Awake.”

“Awake!”

A hand slapped him in the face. Toru groaned and cracked his eyes open.

He was upright, being held in place by chains wrapped around his arms, legs, and torso. It took him a moment to realize that he was still wearing the Nishimura armor, everything but the helmet. He tried to move, but it had somehow been depowered, and his limbs were sluggish and did not respond. Some form of stifling magical effect had been placed upon him.

The Iron Guard who had struck him stepped aside. Once again, he was staring into the face of Okubo Tokugawa, only this was the imposter. This was the villain. This was the pawn of the Enemy. How could the others not see? He would have spit in that face if his mouth hadn’t been so dry.

He was dressed for ceremony, wearing his military uniform, chest covered in medals and ribbons. “Well, if it isn’t the traitor,” the imposter sneered. “How pathetic. Once a fearsome Iron Guard, the finest possible example of an Imperium warrior, and now you are chained to a dungeon wall like a common criminal.”

“I am not
common
.” Toru gritted his teeth and concentrated. He couldn’t even curl his fingers into a fist. It was like he’d been paralyzed from the neck down. “You are a traitor, Dosan Saito, and I will kill you.”

The guard did not need to be prompted. He backhanded Toru in the mouth.

The imposter smiled. “Save your energy, Toru. This man is of my personal guard. They have already been . . . augmented.”

Toru’s eyes grated in their sockets as he studied the Iron Guard. He looked completely human, only with dead, unfeeling eyes. This warrior had been a man once, but now he was a puppet made of flesh. Toru was disgusted.

“You have been trying to plant seeds of doubt into their heads, like Hattori did to you. I know that was what you were attempting with your brazen entrance into Shanghai. You hoped to scare me away. You wanted to make the warriors doubt their Chairman with your wild rumors. Sadly, some of the seeds which you have been spreading have taken root among the men. I cannot allow that. I must crush all doubt. That is the only reason you are still alive.”

Toru wanted to choke the life from this man, but he was helpless, and that was infuriating. “Why do you serve the Pathfinder? You were a friend of Okubo Tokugawa!”

“I was his friend, his confidant, and his advisor. I knew him far better than you ever did. You are a foolish boy who thinks he is serving the will of his father, while I am the one who will realize his dream. I serve the Imperium. I do not serve the Pathfinder. The Pathfinder serves me.”

“Then you are an imbecile.”

WHACK
. The Iron Guard hit him even harder. This one had to have been a Massive to have knuckles that dense.

The imposter looked to the Iron Guard. It was as if they communicated without speaking, and the soldier stepped away, leaving Toru hanging there, blood running out of his nose and down his lips.

“Okubo hated the Enemy. He was correct to do so. It came here as a mighty predator. His mistake, however, was in thinking it could not be tamed. Like any beast, like magic even, it can be broken and made to serve. For many years I kept a fragment of the defeated Pathfinder secret. I studied it, learned its ways, as was Okubo’s command to me, and I took its strength for myself. It is simply another form of being, not so different than the Power.”

They had thought it was merely bad luck which had brought the Pathfinder to Asia twice in a row, but in truth, it had never actually left. “You are being deceived.”

“You are incorrect. Like all living things, the Enemy merely wishes to continue its existence. Once I spoke with it, I came to understand its needs. It came to consume all of the Power, as it had done before on other worlds, but only because the intelligences there which the Power had been bonded to were not rational. The Enemy merely asks for enough sustenance to support itself, and in exchange, it is prepared to give us so much in return . . . Access to abilities far beyond anything the Power has ever granted.”

“What did my father say when you suggested this to him?”

Saito chuckled. “I am not a fool. I never spoke to Okubo about this. He truly believed that the Pathfinder had been completely destroyed. I did not wish to upset his view, so I waited.”

“It had you wait. It made you hold your tongue.”

“Not at all. Did Okubo himself not once teach that it was the inevitable duty of the strong to control the weak? I am merely following his philosophy. The Predator is strong. The Power is the weaker of the two, and thus must be controlled. The Power is nothing more than a very useful farm animal. It is livestock, to be managed. There is no reason that both cannot exist simultaneously in this world.”

“Magic is not chickens, and we are not peasants collecting eggs to present to our lords! It has clouded your thoughts, Saito. It is using you.”

“You have not seen what I have seen. You will never understand. When the evil Grimnoir took Okubo from us, I saw my opportunity. Over the years I had been secretly collecting other forms of magic. I oversaw Unit 731, and when the discreet opportunity would present itself, I would have the Power wrung out of another Active and I would take it as my own. Oh, the look on your face . . . Surprised? You think Okubo was the only one who could do such a thing? No, Toru. The Pathfinder offers that to all of its allies. It enabled me to conceal this development from Okubo, and once the unthinkable happened, I stepped in to take his place.”