Airith- the Kentilan War Page 19

  *

  When they got to the Old District, the place was semi-defended by the guards the Emperor had taken with him. One of them stood at the entry of the ruins, and Airith could see more of them behind him, standing at corners and looking fiercely around as if they were meant to be there.

  Too bad they were outmanned. None of them had anything like Airith’s sword.

  She yanked the hilt from the sheath on her hip, jerked it up in front of her to allow the two blades to materialize and combined into one, and hit the button to engage her Skyfire at the same time as she began swinging, allowing her instincts to guide her as she swept the weapon up and through the first guard, starting right underneath his left arm and moving quickly through his body. Two seconds later, he was dead on the ground—in two pieces. Another swing as she rushed forward and the next guard lost his head. Sweeping the sword back the other way and she cut the third guard right through the middle.

  Airith dashed forward, leaving the gore in her wake for the others to deal with, her eyes on the street in front of her. Where had the Emperor gone? He hadn’t had that many guards with him, and she’d already killed three of them. If she were guarding someone…

  She got to the corner and spun to the right, and then to the left, her gaze flying madly across the ruins of the buildings around them. Then she saw him. Or she saw where she thought he might be. The other three guards were bunched up in front of a ruined doorway, their puny swords up and at the ready in front of them. One look at their faces, though, told her that they were all terrified—and none of them wanted to die for the man they called emperor.

  She took three leaping steps toward them, came to a skidding halt, and screamed at them.

  They all turned and ran, leaving the doorway wide open.

  She snorted in disgust. “Typical amateurs,” she growled. That was the problem with hired help. They ran at the first sign of anything going wrong.

  Effective killers had been born to it. Trained since birth. Brought up with one goal, and one goal only.

  She grimaced and caught that thought by its tail before it could go anywhere, yanking it back and shoving it into the box where she kept such things. That had been her life before. It wasn’t who she was, today, she hoped. Though that wasn’t going to stop her from finding the Emperor and killing him.

  She paused long enough for Phara and Rapha to catch up with her, the two of them coming up on her left and on her right to flank her.

  “Quite a mess you left back there,” Rapha murmured.

  “Only doing what I had to do,” she responded, her voice emotionless.

  She could see the glance he sent her way, and practically feel the expression he was wearing—one of doubt and confusion—but she didn’t turn to him. His feelings about her past and her abilities weren’t her problem. Not right now.

  “She’s only doing what she knows best, Rapha,” Phara said clearly. “All she knows is death and—”

  The girl interrupted herself, going suddenly to her knees and throwing her hands out in front of her to bring up a shield in front of them. And not a moment too soon. The shield had barely materialized before several explosions hit it from the other side, each of them in a green brighter than Airith had ever seen.

  Airith and Rapha both dropped to their knees next to Phara, their hands in front of their eyes.

  “What the fried shit chicken was that?” Rapha snapped.

  “A new weapon, the likes of which your kind has never seen,” the Emperor responded, strolling from behind one of the walls in front of them.

  Airith threw her gaze up and over his armor to locate his face. He’d pulled his mask back now, so they could see the arrogant tilt to his eyebrows, the barely contained smirk on his lips. The armor was scarred, scratched, and dented—but it was still functional. And it was still more than anything they had at their fingertips.

  Still more than anything they could defeat on their own.

  But that didn’t mean they weren’t going to try. They had to. They might lose their lives fighting the Emperor—but they were certainly going to lose their lives if the Emperor or any of his men got to Mother and killed her.

  And that brought another thought roaring back to her. The rest of the Kentilans. They had gone after Mother at the Life Pool. Even now, they might be destroying her.

  “The other Kentilans—” she started.

  “They went after Mother,” Rapha finished. “Who does she have protecting her?”

  “She has the power of the Life Pool, and her own Sadness,” Phara answered calmly. “She is more powerful than anything I have ever experienced. The Kentilans will give her no trouble. Plus Mox is back there. We must worry about ourselves.”

  Airith growled at the thought of Mother having more power, but there was nothing to be done about that now. Phara was right; they had to get themselves out of this situation, or it wasn’t going to matter whether Mother ruled the world or not.

  “Drop the shield,” she muttered.

  “What?” Phara asked.

  “Drop the shield. It’s time to get this over with.”

  “Airith, I don’t think—” Rapha started.

  He didn’t get the chance to finish. Phara swept her hands down and to the sides, and the barrier dropped with them, leaving a blank space between them and the Emperor. Before Rapha could say anything else, Airith was sprinting forward, screaming, her sword raised above her head and ready to strike.

  She got four steps toward the Emperor before one of his monstrous hands swung down from the left and sent her flying right into a wall. She lay there, motionless, trying to get her brain to start thinking, for several moments—until she heard Rapha shout out in pain. At the sound, Airith was on her feet again, running for the battle taking place without bothering to look at what was going on or even figure out what she was going to do. The battle was nothing but a dust cloud in front of her, the sand flying up and around the Emperor as Phara used her own powers, Rapha nothing more than an occasional flash of color through the clay-colored haze of the cloud. The Emperor was roaring and stomping, and she could see his armor towering over the floating sand, but she couldn’t see any of the details.

  Moments later, she was in the dust cloud herself, her sword once again sweeping left and right as she tried to clear the way. Then she came upon the battle. Rapha was still on his feet, but he wouldn’t be for much longer. He’d taken some sort of hit to the side, and his left chest plate looked like it had melted off him. Airith could see burnt skin and steel underneath. He was also limping—badly—and his movements were slower than they should have been.

  “Rapha, your Skyfire!” she screamed.

  “Used. Up,” he huffed. “No charge.”

  She dashed forward, her eyes on the target that was the Emperor, her gaze seeking a soft spot in the armor. Surely there were seams there. Surely there was a spot that wasn’t made of metal. Just a small seam. That was all she needed.

  Then she saw it, right where the piece that covered his thighs met the body piece. An opening. Of course, there was an opening. There had to be, for him to be able to move as well as he did. And it was just big enough for her blade. If he would just stand still long enough for her to—

  Another swipe and she was flying through the air again.

  “¡Carajo!” she shrieked, furious at the bad luck.

  When she came to a stop in the sand, she jumped to her feet again—only to stop when she saw a black hole opening right above the Emperor. She’d never seen anything like it. It looked as though the very fabric of reality had somehow ripped open, allowing a glimpse of … pure and utter darkness. Airith jerked to a stop, staring, and the Emperor stopped as well. Moments later, the dust died down and Airith could see that Phara had stopped, her arms hanging at her sides.

  Rapha was on the ground, unmoving.

  Airith tore her gaze from him and looked up again, just in time to see Mother’s arachnid attachment dropping through the rip in the sky. She fell to t
he ground, landing in a crouch, and the rip sealed up again above her.

  Phara promptly disappeared. And before she could think about why she would do that, Airith went charging forward again, her only thought was of Rapha and the harm Mother might do to him. She’d gone only a few steps when she found herself on her back, one of Mother’s legs pinning her down. A quick glance to the side showed her that Rapha was pinned by another.

  With her Skyfire, there was nothing Airith could do about it. The magic still encompassed her, but she could hear it dying away, her last minutes already up.

  “You will stay there, children,” Mother said from in front of her. “This is my game to play, now.”

  Airith looked up to see Mother standing in front of the Emperor, her face dark and unreadable. Although two of her legs were holding Airith and Rapha, she had others still available to her—as well as the weapons that had somehow grown out of what had once been her arms. The Emperor stood frozen in front of her, evidently too stunned at her sudden appearance to react.

  Airith had to agree with him. What type of magic had Mother done to rip the world like that—and how?

  Suddenly one of Mother’s arms shot forward, the sharpened steel at the end of it slicing cleanly through the Emperor’s armor and impaling him. He jumped and gagged, and blood began to dribble from his lips.

  A kill shot, Airith thought. A clean shot right through the vital organs. It would take him only moments to die. And he’d never seen it coming—never thought that his armor could be punctured in that way. And that had been his mistake.

  Mother jerked her weapon out of his body but caught him with her arms before he could fell. She kneeled, the movement of her mechanical attachment jerky and awkward, and laid him onto the ground, her face growing almost wistful. Leaning forward, she kissed the Emperor gently.

  “If you’d loved me the way you should have, none of this would have happened,” she said quietly.

  Airith stared at her, shocked. She’d never seen Mother exhibit any emotion at all, other than anger. She’d never dreamt that the woman who had created them all could be anything more than… a machine. But the emotions she was seeing on the half-machine’s face now were entirely human.

  “We could have changed everything,” Mother murmured, still speaking to the Emperor. And then her face changed from dreamy to angry. From loving to… vindictive. “But instead, you chose pain and fear,” she hissed. She brought one of her legs up above her head and a rapid transformation happened, the leg flowing smoothly from an appendage for walking to a long, sharp spear.

  “So now I bring you pain!” she shouted.

  The leg came flying down, piercing straight through the Emperor’s face, and Mother wailed in both victory and sorrow.

  She dropped the body of the Emperor and whirled on Airith, who managed to squirm from her hold at this point. She jumped from the sand and ran toward Rapha, reaching him, going to her knees, and then turning on Mother.

  “Don’t touch us!” she screamed.

  Mother reached out, heedless of Airith’s wishes, but her hand jerked back when a cargo class waver with the words ‘2 Wicked’ graffitied on its hull it blazed to a stop between her and Airith and Rapha. A moment later Toddboy jumped from the smoking vehicle, somehow managing to grin and scowl at the same time.

  Behind him, crouched on top of the waver, Luna opened fire on Mother with her large arm cannon while Luna created shields to deflect any of Mother’s attacks. Mother crouched to the ground and began defending herself with walls of the Sadness.

  Toddboy gestured for Airith to come to him and dropped to his knees next to Rapha, putting a hand to his brow.

  “Barely alive,” he said lightly. “Good thing I got here when I did.”

  He jerked his head at his waver. “Get on and don’t worry about those two crazy bitches, they can handle themselves.” he snapped at Airith, as he jumped to his feet with Rapha in his arms. When she hesitated, he snarled at her. “Get on!”

  She grimaced and stepped into the waver, furious at having to accept the help of this man, but desperate enough to get away from Mother that she wasn’t going to ask too many questions. Luna and Sage were still in the midst of their battle, and Airith ducked down into a seat, trying to keep from getting killed.

  A moment later Rapha was in the seat next to her, his head in her lap, and Toddboy was behind the wheel of the waver, adjusting the controls and screaming at his bodyguards to get retreat back to the Springs.

  When the waver shot into the sky, Airith found herself flattened to the surface and holding on for dear life.

  “What the hell is this?” she ground out.

  “A rescue mission, what do you think?” he spat back. “Leave it to you two to set yourselves up in such a situation. Facing Mother herself, and after the Emperor has just beat the living shit out of you both! What are you thinking?”

  “Just trying to save the world you ugly bearded dumbass,” Rapha mumbled.

  Airith didn’t look up but grinned in relief at the sound of his voice. But she took a moment to look around them, and saw…

  “What kind of oversized grody ass waver is this?” she asked, looking around at the captain’s seats and bright fuchsia interior, striped pole of course included. It was larger than any waver she’d ever been inside—and more richly appointed—but it was the only thing she could think of.

  Turning, she saw someone she didn’t recognize coming out of a back room. Someone with bright blue hair and a metal piece over half of its face.

  That someone turned, met her eye, and then glanced at Toddboy.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” he snapped. “Tracking complete and Luna and Sage are one their way back and fortunately for us Mother is on her way back to Indigo Tower.”

  Toddboy nodded. “Airith, make sure you’re both buckled,” he said quickly, casting half a glance over his shoulder.

  Airith didn’t bother to answer. She just stared out the window as the ship shot forward and began to race along the dunes, away from the Old District—and away from Mother.

  *

  They couldn’t have been traveling for more than twenty minutes before the waver stopped again. Toddboy, who had been refusing to answer any of Airith’s questions, turned on her and pointed to the door.

  “Out,” he said. “And take this with you.” He wrenched Rapha up from the seat and shoved him in her direction, taking little care of the wounds.

  Rapha, who had been asleep, stumbled into her arms, moaning.

  Airith shook him. “Stop being a little bitch, it can’t be that bad,” she told him. “You’re not dead. And as far as I can see, you’re barely even wounded.”

  He reared back and glared at her. “I’ll have you know that I was nearly burnt to a crisp by the Emperor' while you were off doing whatever you were doing.” Then he grinned. “But I’ll forgive you. Since we made it out alive.”

  “Neither of you is going to be alive much longer if you don’t get your asses to the Creator!” Toddboy shouted.

  “Quick question buddy…why did you come back for us? You were supposed to be on your way to the Springs to watch out for Isabel Rae as you promised.” Rapha shouted back.

  A long pause, and then: “I made a deal with the Creator. But it’s none of your business. Plus, I owed you that favor. Consider it paid in full.”

  Toddboy’s face had gone from serious to bashful and somehow wistful, and Airith shot him a glare, additional questions already forming on her tongue. Something was going on here, and she wanted to know what the hell it was.

  But Rapha took her hand and yanked her through the door and out into the sand.

  “What is he talking about, a deal with the Creator?” she asked.

  Rapha shook his head. “He has always talked about this ‘deal’, but I've never been able to figure that out, myself,” he murmured. “But there’s no arguing with him. He did just save our asses.”

  “And brought us right back to where we started,�
�� Airith said, pointing.

  In front of them, Phara was standing next to the Katalina and the Penelope, both of which looked as though they’d been through a battle.

  “What the deuce did you do to my babies?” Rapha shrieked, diving toward the wavers.

  Phara shrugged. “They were like this when I arrived,” she said simply.

  Airith narrowed her eyes. “And speaking of that,” she said. “Where did you go? We could have used you back there!”

  Another shrug. “I could not stay where Mother was,” Phara noted. “I could not make myself available to her. If she took me, she would become even more powerful. We should also pay respects to Mox. It seems as him killed himself to save us.” Phara pointed to the charred battle ground in from of the Indigo Tower.