“We don’t have enough power to kill him,” Hunter offered. It was all Eric could to do avoid snorting in derision at the comment, as he could have told that just by himself. It had likely been sheer luck that had allowed him to land that killing blow on Averin, and even that one-in-a-million chance had been rebuffed.
The Primeval, for the moment, wasn’t showing any interest in attacking. He was rubbing his neck with the hand not holding his sword as if feeling to double-check for an injury. He studied Eric with a calm expression, his thin lips curled into a petulant smile. They could both tell the power difference here. Instead of taking advantage of it to kill Eric quickly, he seemed interested in drawing the moment out. Playing with his food, Eric thought.
“We should fall back,” Hunter said. “I can distract him for just a moment, and you can run in the opposite direction.”
Not that that would be particularly helpful, Eric thought. Even if they were lucky enough to escape the Primeval, they’d still have to get out of the palace itself. And past that insurmountable task was the city that surrounded it, nearly a mile of potential traps and encounters in any direction. He shook his head slightly, both to deny Hunter’s suggestion and to strengthen himself. Even if the Primeval was so much stronger than him, he couldn’t get out of the fight.
“I don’t have to kill you,” he told the Primeval. “I just have to survive long enough to do my job, and then I can crush you with numbers.”
The primeval’s smile widened, and his crimson eyes sparked with good humor. If it weren’t for the warlike appearance and the obvious dormant murderous intent, he’d be like any other middle-aged man, enjoying a day of fun on the town. He lowered his free hand and beckoned Eric closer with a casual gesture. At once, Eric felt the overwhelming urge to walk closer. He steeled himself, bringing up his defenses and refusing the compulsion.
“My, you’re a stubborn one,” The Primeval said, letting out a soft laugh. The sound of it sent shivers down Eric’s spine, and he gripped his swords more firmly. “I do so enjoy the sight of a stubborn child. My daughter is even more stubborn. I believe you’ve met her?”
That question threw Eric off. “I haven’t met your daughter. I’ve only met two other Infernals before, and-”
He was cut off by the shock of the realization. The tall, proud stance. The stubborn and defiant tilt to the chin. Red hair and a sadistic, snarky grin. He was the spitting image of Alice, the Infernal who’d bonded with Megan. The Primeval laughed again. “See? You do know my lovely daughter, Alice.”
Eric felt his mind spinning back to life as he thought through exactly what that meant. If Alice was this creature’s daughter, that could mean that Alice was in danger. Is that why he hadn’t heard or seen any sign of Megan since Milagre had fallen? Losing Samuel had been a harsh blow, but if Megan had been betrayed by what she considered to be her closest friend, that would be worse.
He could feel the anger floating to the surface of his mind, but he held it back with a will. To survive, he’d need to keep a clear head at all times. If Hunter could tell him where the next rune was, he could still go for it, while keeping the Primeval’s attention. The wolf sensed his thoughts, and, though he was clearly still a fan of the retreating option, he supplied the exact location of the next rune. He took as deep a breath as he could manage, forcing his lungs to expand, to carry oxygen to his brain and force blood into his muscles.
“I don’t care who your daughter is, or what your plan here entails,” he said quietly, lowering himself into a crouch. “I have a job to do.”
“Yes,” The Primeval agreed, raising his sword. At least he wouldn’t disrespect Eric by not treating him as a legitimate threat. That was a small comfort, but it wasn’t nothing. “I’m sure when you’re dead, your goal will become clear to me.”
“We’ll see about that!” Eric shouted, lunging into action. Hunter leaped with him, giving him a boost. Time seemed to slow as he dashed forward, his swords cutting a cross through the air, aiming for the Primeval’s torso. He saw the broadsword moving forward to block both weapons, and pivoted at the very last second, swiping his left-hand sword up in a vicious forehand cut. The switch was too fast for his opponent, and his sword slashed through the thin leather there easily, drawing blood.
The Primeval grunted as he felt the touch of the blade, but it was far from a critical blow. He struck out with the pommel of his larger weapon, forcing Eric to duck under it, then brought the blade itself down in a heavy chop. Eric caught the sword between his own, the force nearly enough to make his knees buckle. With a grimace, he shoved the sword aside and jabbed out with his own. It was lacking in power with the limited space, and couldn’t even puncture the armor. He danced away.
After that flurry of exchanged blows, he’d ended up on the other side of the Primeval. The next rune was in a room to his left, and he could actually see it now, glancing through the open doorway. But he quickly realized his mistake in glancing away, as the Primeval lurched forward, the sword thrusting out. He ducked it at the last second, using his own sword to force the heavier weapon up and over his head. This left him with no way to guard against the stomping kick the Primeval aimed at him, and the heavy boot struck him in the stomach.
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He slammed into the doorway of the room with a grunt, coughing as his lungs tried to refill after all the air had been forced out of them. He threw himself to the side again as the Primeval slashed at him, with only inches to spare. The heavy broadsword bit into the thick wood of the door frame and stuck. Using what little time he had, he dove for the rune, slashing four times in rapid succession, breaking it apart. The Primeval wrenched his sword free with a frustrated grunt, shattering the frame with the violent movement.
“Well now,” the Primeval said, smirking as he realized that Eric was trapped in the room. “This does not look good for you, my friend.”
He took a step forward into the room, but Eric didn’t give him the chance to advance any further. He met the Infernal face-to-face, hacking and slashing for all that he was worth. He planted himself in place, focusing entirely on defense. Each parry of the larger weapon, though they threatened to make his arms numb, began to stockpile power in his core, and he could feel Hunter absorbing all of the gathered power, waiting for the perfect chance to counter.
“Just one opening,” the wolf growled. He hadn’t had this much energy to work with in quite a while, but there wasn’t the tiniest gap in the Primeval’s attacks that he could exploit. The tall Infernal’s smile had slipped, however, as he realized that Eric was, somehow, managing to deflect each of his attacks. He put more force into them but to no effect. Something had changed in the young man in front of him, he realized. He was more than holding his own. He was moving even faster now himself, deflecting most of his blows with a fiercely determined look, and sidestepping or ducking the others. He couldn’t make a dent in the youth’s ferocious defense.
“Enough!” He shouted, lunging out with one hand in the first opening he could find. He meant to grab the boy by his collar and throw him against the stone wall of the room, but he was too slow. Eric spun around his outstretched hand, and, flipping one of the blades in his hand to a reverse grip, thrust one of his swords into the Primeval’s stomach, sinking it all the way to the hilt.
“Now, Hunter!”
Without warning, the white wolf appeared, filling the Primeval’s field of vision with its stark fur, and its wide jaws. It bit down on the Primeval’s shoulder, and with the considerable power it had stockpiled, it thrashed its body around frantically, pulling the Infernal with it. The wolf showed a level of ferocity and power he hadn’t expected. Hadn’t this beast been a lesser shard of the Ancient wolf? But as its jaws bit down even more strongly onto the Primeval’s shoulder, he realized that it, like the boy it served, had grown stronger.
Eric would have normally held back, waiting to attack when Hunter’s rush of energy had faded. But, at the wolf’s urging, he ducked under and around the battling pair, and ran for the next rune. There was just one Infernal with a staff in his way, and he dove under the fireball that she launched. Before she could think to cast another spell or even gain some space, Eric slashed the inside of her right knee, bringing her down. He vaulted over her collapsing form with one final finishing slash, then ducked into the next room. The rune he found there was finished in seconds.
“Where’s the next one, Hunter?” He shouted. But before he could get a reply, he heard what sounded like a hundred fireworks being released in the corridor outside. He would have thought it was the Primeval finally shaking Hunter off if it weren’t for the familiar warcry that rippled through the passageway, bouncing off the stone walls and magnified to nearly double its original volume, even after being issued from nearly twenty throats.
“Issho-Ni!”
The sound of explosions came again, but it was nearly drowned out by the thunder of charging feet. Eric dashed out of the room he’d been in, and slid to a stop, eyes wide. The corridor was suddenly full of people, all wearing the enameled white uniforms of the Kabe Warriors. The sound of explosions had been the two Infernal mages that had attempted to wipe them out, but those mages had been trampled in the warriors’ mad rush toward the opponent that Hunter was suppressing.
The white wolf sensed the approaching allies just in time and leaped clear as the squadron of Kabe Warriors, sixteen in total, slammed into the Infernal. He stood no chance against their rush and the strength of the enchantment they bore. For a second, it looked as though he’d be swallowed up and shredded. But then there was another explosion, louder than anything the other Infernals could hope to achieve, and he was gone.
The leader of the squadron looked up as he saw Eric, and gave him a proud salute. “Master Breeden! Wonderful to see you again, sir!”
It was the Captain who’d helped him during the invasion, he realized. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and walked over to shake the man’s hand. “I believe that’s my word. I would have been dead if you hadn’t arrived then.”
“Nonsense, sir!” One of the Kabe Warriors said, grinning broadly. “Hunter’d nearly brought him down, we just finished the job!”
The others laughed at the comment, filled with the giddy rush of victory. Even their Captain was showing his teeth in a smile. “We saw how many you’d killed before we got here. You’re a fierce warrior, Master Breeden.”
Eric let out a snort. “You can tell me about it later over drinks. There’s still work to be done. Is it just you lot?”
Two more figures appeared at the back, coming out of rooms on either side of the column. They wore white robes that marked them as Issho-Ni members, and they were clearly mages. The Captain indicated them and the men behind them. “They wanted to send more, but could only teleport a squadron and two mages at once.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Eric thought. He noticed that none of the Kabe Warriors had activated their enchantments, meaning they were technically still fresh. “You’re more than enough. If you’re here, that means that the others will be teleported in just fine. Let’s get to the surface now.”