Chapter Eighteen: ‘O, crashing pyre...!’

She didn’t recognize his face. He was a redhead, young and stocky, and the butler’s suit barely fit him. She could see blood on his sleeves, as well as a guardsman on the floor in the hallway.

“Finally,” the man said, not even bothering to close the door behind him. “We’ve been waiting all day for a chance to talk to you alone.”

‘Less alone than we expected,’ said his reaper, eyeing Garovel. ‘And just who are you? You didn’t identify yourself as Vanguard, either.’

Garovel chose not to reply.

“Perhaps we are being rude.” The man pressed a hand to his chest. “My name is Desmond,” he said. “This is my friend, Ezmortig.”

‘Frankly,’ said Ezmortig, ‘we are relieved to hear that you are not with the Vanguard. And yet, after coming all the way here to Atreya, it would be a waste to leave now.’

“What do you want?” said Helen.

Ezmortig looked to Mehlsanz. ‘Your cooperation, of course. Having Queen Helen on our side would smoothen the transition.’

“Transition to what?”

‘War,’ said Mehlsanz.

Helen’s brow lowered. “I think not.”

“Now, now, Your Majesty. Hear us out.”

‘We’re listening,’ said Garovel.

Desmond stepped forward. “See, your brother, Prince Gabriel, he thinks he hired us. He doesn’t realize that we found him. And while he seems like a cunning man, I think everyone here can agree that he’s in a bit over his head, now.”

‘We don’t care who’s on the throne,’ said Ezmortig, ‘just so long as they’re ours.’

“The Prince wanted us to waltz right in, kill you, and be done with it,” said Desmond. “Which, admittedly, I’m still more than happy to do, but my friend here says that killing the Queen would cause a bit of a stir--both politically and publicly. And I’m inclined to agree, because if it comes to a fight, I might accidentally destroy half this castle. So we thought we should at least give you a chance to make things easier for everyone. And hey, the best part is, you all get to live.”

She saw Garovel and Mehlsanz exchange looks.

‘Very well,’ said Garovel. ‘What exactly do you want the Queen to do?’

Helen was about to protest when Mehlsanz’s voice silenced her.

‘Listen. Only you can hear me,’ she said. ‘We’re merely stalling, so don’t fight. That man will kill all of us.’

“Well, the expansionist movement is a good start,” said Desmond. “Greater militarization efforts would--”

‘Stop,’ said Ezmortig. ‘That was far too easy. I don’t know about this Garovel here, but Mehlsanz was Vanguard. She wouldn’t cooperate so easily.’

Desmond frowned. “What’re you saying?”

‘They’re up to something. Kill them now.’

Desmond smiled. “Can do.”

‘Wait a minute,’ said Mehlsanz. ‘We acknowledge that we’re no match for your servant. We’re simply--’

‘You’re lying,’ said Ezmortig.

Desmond approached, and Helen put herself in front of the reapers.

Mehlsanz touched Helen’s shoulder. ‘No helping it.’

Desmond held an index finger up to her face. “You don’t even have an ability yet, do you?”

Helen grabbed the finger, intending to break it, but it snapped right off. It darkened in her hand and started sizzling as Desmond backed away.

‘Get rid of it!’ Mehlsanz shouted.

She tossed it. The finger exploded in mid-air. Helen staggered back, half the flesh gone from her face.

‘He has a transfiguration ability!’ said Garovel.

“That’s right.” Desmond was there, and he grabbed the Queen by the neck, lifting her off the ground. “You’re not much of a fighter, are you, Your Majesty?”

Dizzy, Helen could only see through one eye, the other just a bloody gash, slowly growing back.

‘Behind you, Desmond.’

Lynnette’s sword hacked the man’s arm clean off, and Helen hit the ground. Desmond spun to swing at the swordswoman, and she hacked the other arm off as well.

He looked at his two stumps, then at her, and laughed. “Impressive. But you’re out of your depth, girl.”

Lynette brandished her two-handed blade. Desmond dodged the next slash smoothly and swept at her legs, but she was ready, bounding back a step and slicing his foot off.

The foot was already sizzling, however, as it rolled to a stop in front of Lynnette’s confused gaze. Helen tackled her to the ground, and the explosion rocked the whole chamber.

Helen’s back and legs smoldered, sundered muscle and snapped bone under shredded cloth, but Lynnette was tucked safely beneath her, dazed and intact. “Please stay back, Lynnette,” she said softly.

Desmond pulled her off Lynnette with his one returned arm. “I thought the guards were supposed to protect the Queen, not the other way around.”

A heavy thud made the walls tremble.

“What was that?” said Desmond.

Helen elbowed him in the nose, making him release her, and she hit the ground flat.

Desmond shook his head and scowled, but another thud made him pause. He looked to Ezmortig. One more thud, and the ceiling gave way on top of him.

Through the rubble, a thick marble slab fell toward Desmond. He raised both sleeveless arms and caught it full on, making the floor crack beneath him.

A black figure was crouched atop the slab, grasping its broad edge with both hands and staring down at Desmond through a metal helm.

“You must be that other reaper’s servant.” Desmond grinned up at him, still holding the marble steady. “Nice entrance.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Desmond chucked the slab across the room.

Hector bounded off of it, coated one shoe in iron, and punted Desmond into the far wall, stuck waist deep.

‘Kill the reaper now!’ Garovel shouted.

Hector lunged for Ezmortig, swiping at him with iron-tipped fingers, but the reaper sunk through the floor first.

‘Nice try, bastard.’

Hector growled and looked back toward the others.

Lynnette was helping the Queen up, bloodying her uniform in the process. Helen steadied herself and saw Hector there.

It was the first time Hector had ever gotten a good look at the Queen. Even on television, he’d only caught the odd glimpse of her. But perhaps now wasn’t the most accurate depiction, either. She didn’t look like she was having the best day, what with her blue-gray pantsuit in tatters and her makeup smeared with blood.

‘Introductions later,’ Garovel said preemptively. ‘We should leave.’

‘Your servant can’t defeat Desmond?’ said Mehlsanz.

‘I don’t know, but I doubt he can kill the reaper before Desmond brings down the building.’

Hector nodded. “Okay, we’ll meet you at the bike.”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

‘No,’ said Garovel. ‘There could be other enemy servants. We stick together.’

“Who is he talking to?” said Lynnette.

Desmond broke himself free of the wall.

‘Go now!’ said Garovel.

The Queen ushered Lynnette out of the room, and Hector brought up the rear, seeing Desmond starting toward them.

‘What did you say his ability was?’ Hector asked as they ran.

‘Transfiguration. He can make his body parts explode. I’ll explain if we make it outta this alive.’

A swarm of guardsmen were waiting in the foyer.

‘Tell them to get back!’ said Mehlsanz.

“Do not engage!” Helen yelled as they pushed through. “I order you all to move away from here!”

Hector looked back again and saw Desmond’s entire severed arm flying toward them.

‘That’ll kill everyone here!’ Garovel yelled. ‘Hector!’

He understood and jumped. He caught it by the wrist and pulled it tight against his chest. The darkened flesh crackled, burning. Hector rushed to cover his torso with metal.

The explosion ripped his arms and legs off. His metal shredded like paper. He flew over the crowd of guardsmen and smashed into a chandelier. Glass shattered and rained down on marble tile as he hit the floor and rolled up against a limestone pillar.

Everything was red, presumably from blood in his eyes. He couldn’t breathe and was pretty sure he’d ruptured both lungs. He knew his limbs would soon grow back, but he couldn’t help panicking at not being able to feel them at all. Not being able to move. Not being able to speak. Barely being able to see or hear.

But after a moment, he felt someone pick him up. The numbness in his ears quickly subsided, and he turned his eyes up to see the Queen’s face there.

“I have you, young knight.”

“How is he still alive?! For that matter, how are you, Your Highness?!”

They made it out into the courtyard. More guards were there, and the Queen yelled at them to disperse as they pushed through.

Desmond was soon to catch up. However, he stopped, as did everyone else, when they saw the gatehouse crumbling ahead of them.

“Aww,” said Desmond. “I wanted to do it on my own.”

A broad-bellied man lumbered out of the rubble, arms like tree trunks. His red hair was a bit darker than Desmond’s, and he could not have been any less than two meters tall. A reaper followed him.

‘Did you really have to destroy the gatehouse?’ said Ezmortig, overlooking the scene from the sky.

‘You made a mess first,’ said the new reaper.

Desmond laughed. “Hey, I tried to tell them we weren’t the people for this job.”

The big guy seemed to have nothing to say. By the look on his flat face, he scarcely seemed aware of what was happening.

Hector still needed more time to regenerate. He’d barely recovered his knees and elbows.

Aside from Lynnette, one of the guards had yet to flee as ordered. He was a bespectacled man, and he stepped toward the giant, fiddling with the black brim on his officer’s cap. “I really hate you Abolish guys,” he said. “Always recruiting these poor simpletons as servants. Aren’t there enough crazy assholes like that guy over there?”

‘Who the hell are you?’

“I’m Roman. And you fuckers aren’t welcome in my country.”

‘And I’m Voreese.’ Yet another reaper appeared, straight out of the ground. ‘This is our land, you shitheads.’

“Oh, shut up,” said Roman. “No one cares what you have to say.”

‘Fucking brat! I’m the important one here! You’re just my servant!’

“You’d be dead if it wasn’t for me!”

‘No, you would! I’d have found a different servant! One who didn’t give me so much lip, you four-eyed fuckwit!’

“Imaginary bitch!”

The Queen set Hector down as his hands and feet began to form, bones emerging before the flesh around them.

Desmond rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles. “We’re more than happy to kill you newcomers along with everyone else.”

The big man charged at Voreese.

Roman slammed his foot down. The ground heaved up and flipped the big man toward Desmond like a pancake.

Desmond just moved out of the way.

Roman tossed his white coat to Hector. “C’mon, kid. This is no time to be free-ballin’ it.”

Hector turned beet red and hurriedly wrapped the cloth around his waist. He held it there with an iron band.

Another sizzling arm flew at the group.

Roman swatted it straight up into the air, and it exploded harmlessly. The big guy’s gut bulged, and a second later, he vomited acid.

The left side of Roman’s face and torso melted away, revealing raw bone and gooey, bubbling muscle. Undeterred, he raised a fist. It trembled and started crackling red, creating visible smoke. He put the hand out. Orange flames poured forth.

Their opponents split up to avoid the fire, and Roman pursued the big man.

‘What kind of ability does that guy have?!’ Hector was back on his feet.

‘Vibration of some sort. Keep your eyes on Desmond.’

Hector saw him approaching from the side. Desmond was still regrowing his arm. “I’ll hold his attention,” Hector whispered to the ladies. “Try to get behind him and take his head off.”

“Very well,” said Helen.

Lynnette nodded and readied her sword.

Hector moved first, a frontal assault. Desmond dodged the punch and delivered his own to the gut, knocking Hector back a few steps.

Hector kept pressing. He coated both hands in iron and swung. Desmond caught the left hand and ripped it off at the wrist. He slammed Hector into the concrete, making a small crater.

Abruptly, Lynnette was there. But Desmond saw her and smacked the flat side of the blade before it could connect with his neck. Off balance, she struggled to maintain her grip, and this time, Desmond succeeded in sweeping her legs out from under her. She landed on her back, and Desmond left a severed hand in front of her face. For an instant, Lynnette and Hector could both see it darkening.

She didn’t have time to crawl away. She was going to die. Hector knew it. Someone else was about to die in front of him.

The memory of Garovel’s words flashed in his head.

Respond by becoming better.

Hector flexed his one hand. He focused on Lynnette, desperately demanding more from himself, more iron, more concentration, more everything; and for a moment, all the pain in his body wasn’t numb anymore. Agony hit like a tidal wave. But the iron responded.

Powder materialized on her body, gray spots clustering together, and within seconds, the woman was entirely covered.

Desmond’s hand exploded. Lynnette went flying and clattered to the concrete walkway. Hector hit the central fountain, reddening the waters with his blood.

His body in shreds again, he heaved himself out of the pool and clung to the side of the fountain. He saw Lynnette and released the metal. She did not stir.

Desmond and Helen were clashing now. With both arms again and only one hand missing, he was getting the better of her. He smashed her skull open against the ground. Her body went limp.

Desmond turned to Mehlsanz and Garovel.

“Run away!” Hector told the reapers. He pulled himself out of the fountain, soaked and crawling.

“They won’t run,” said Desmond. “What do you think’ll happen if they abandon you here? Eventually, you’ll stop coming back to life on your own, and they won’t be able to find new servants, because they’re still bound to you. I’ll put your brains in nice little jars, and then hunt the reapers down at my leisure. And besides--” He pierced his own chest with his hand. “--I’ve got something for runners.” He pulled out his heart. Its pulsing, crimson flesh began to darken.

Mehlsanz and Garovel went underground.

“That won’t save you!” Desmond laughed, rearing his arm back.

Hector gritted his teeth and pumped his fist sideways.

Desmond’s throw had the force of a cannon. The heart did not leave his grasp, however. He looked at his hand and saw it enveloped in metal. “Aw, you fuck--!”

The metal turned to dust just before the heart exploded. Desmond’s body blew apart like a watermelon wrapped in dynamite.

Hector rolled over onto his back. ‘I got him...’

‘Really?’ Garovel poked his head out of the ground. ‘Wow, Hector... I thought we were dead for sure.’

He just took a heavy breath. The Queen’s head was regenerating, and Lynnette was still motionless.

‘Did you kill Ezmortig, though?’

‘No.’ He saw Ezmortig in the sky. ‘And I can’t reach him, either...’

‘Then we only have a few minutes,’ said Garovel. ‘We should leave while we can.’

‘Maybe that other guy can reach--’

Roman came tumbling past, bouncing across the walkway and skidding into a tree. So much of his skin and muscle was melted off that half his skeleton was visible. Green and yellow steam hissed around his body. He could still move, however, and wore a scowl on what remained of his face.

‘What the hell are you doing?!’ said Voreese. ‘That guy is beating your ass!’

“Shut up!” Roman’s lungs convulsed in his ribcage. “It’s the acid! It’s really hard to move when I don’t have any fucking muscles!”

‘Don’t be a wuss, Roman!’

“Fuck off!”

The big man stomped toward them. Roman slammed a bony fist to the ground, and the giant sunk through a sudden hole in the concrete. Up to his belly, he struggled a moment, then tore his way out of the ground, preparing another swell of acid in his gut.

Hector covered the man’s mouth in iron.

Acid spewed forth and ate through the metal, but not before splashing back onto his face. His eyes boiled out of his head.

Roman blinked. “Nice one, kid--”

The man lumbered forward anyway and vomited more acid on him.

“Fuckin’ dammit.” Roman struggled to raise a steaming hand as the man drew closer.

Lynnette’s sword exploded out the giant’s forehead. She clung to his back as he hit the ground face-first. Everyone stared at her as she wiped her blade on the dead man’s shirt.

“Where’s the other guy?” said Roman. “If we get both their brains, we can stop them from regenerating.”

“He blew up,” said Hector. “I’m pretty sure his brain isn’t in one piece anymore...”

“Shit. Then his reaper can remake him anywhere.”

‘If Desmond is coming after us again, then we should prepare to receive him in a more favorable location,’ said Garovel.

‘Agreed,’ said Voreese. ‘Roman?’

“Alright, follow me everyone. Carry the Queen, kid.”

‘His name is Hector. And mine is Garovel.’

Hector dragged himself over to the Queen as the last of his broken bones repaired themselves. Lynnette offered assistance, but he was strong enough again to carry Helen on his own.

“Dammit.” Roman stood over the big guy’s corpse. “The acid seeped in and started melting his brain. This guy’s gonna be remade somewhere else, too.”

Roman led them over the ruins of the Belgrant Gatehouse. Abandoned cars lined the street, doors left ajar. No doubt people had fled after seeing the gatehouse fall and hearing the subsequent explosions. Sirens in the distance warned of an imminent police presence.

Roman shambled toward a tour bus at the tail end of the traffic jam. He was still missing a quarter of his flesh. He no longer wore a cap, and his undershirt was gone, save only his left sleeve.

“Oh, I don’t even have to hotwire it,” said Roman. “Keys are still in the ignition. You drive, sword girl. I’ll tell you where to go.”

Lynnette stared at him, perhaps wondering if he was even human. “Why can’t you drive?” was all she asked.

He waved a hand in front of his face. “I don’t have my glasses. They melted.”

The Queen stirred in Hector’s arms, and he set her down in a chair behind the driver’s seat. She shook her head, blinking a few times.

‘Welcome back,’ said Mehlsanz.

Hector took the seat across from her as the engine started.

“What happened?” the Queen said.

“We survived,” said Roman. “But the enemy will be back. We’re going to my associate’s garage. We’ll be in better fighting shape with his help.”

‘Who are you people?’ said Garovel. ‘Vanguard?’

‘No,’ said Voreese. ‘Are you?’

‘No.’

‘So we’re all independent here.’

‘Seems that way.’

The bus hit a curb, and everyone eyed the driver.

“...I’ve never driven a bus before,” she said over the noise.

“Just turn right when you reach Willard Street.”

Mehlsanz tilted her head. ‘That girl is strangely understanding, considering she can’t see the three of us.’

“She is a good soldier,” said Helen.

‘I’m sure you’ll have fun explaining the situation to her later,’ said Mehlsanz.

“I am still not sure I understand the situation myself.”

The journey was a short one. The tour bus pulled up to a quite well-kept auto body shop, and everyone exited. Fully regenerated, Roman led the group inside.

There were people in the waiting room. They eyed the new arrivals uncomfortably.

Roman rang the bell at the front desk. “Gerald! Get your crusty old ass out here!”

The others all exchanged glances.

The door behind the counter opened, and the elderly mechanic stepped through. He took one look at Roman and sighed. “Alright,” said Gerald. “I’m sorry to everyone who was waiting, but we’re closed now. I need you all to leave.”

“What?” said one man, standing. “But you have my car. I need it tomorrow--”

Roman stepped in, smiling. “I know it’s inconvenient, but trust me, pal. This is for your own good.” He grabbed a pad and paper off the counter and scribbled a quick note, handing it to the customer. “Here. Go to this address and give this note to the cute blond girl there. She’ll provide all of you with new vehicles, free of charge.”

The man’s expression faltered, and he read the note. “Wha--this address isn’t even in Sescoria. This is a hundred kilometers away!”

Roman’s smile waned. “Then I guess you’d better get going.”

“This is ridiculous!”

Helen intervened, and the stranger did a double take. “Please listen to him,” she said. “Some very bad people are coming here. They will kill you if you stay.”

It didn’t take much more convincing after that. The customers soon filed out of the building.

“So who’s coming to kill us?” Gerald asked.

“Abolish,” said Roman. “Two members, both pretty strong, but nothing we can’t handle.”

Gerald’s expression darkened, and he looked over the group another time.

Roman scratched his bare chest. “By the way, you got any spare clothes?”