Fire Sacrifice Page 2

  “It’s perverse,” Holliday said. “A sentinel leading the shades in a war that will enslave humankind. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so damn tragic! Sentinels were supposed to be the world’s salvation.”

  “I’m not any kind of leader,” Rune said. “And we aren’t enslaving anyone. We are protecting people from you and your shadiers.”

  “That fire elemental truly is boss. Has you all thinking it’s your idea. Hard to combat that.”

  “I make my own decisions.”

  Holliday gave a twisted smile. “Amazing the way people can contort their mind to reject any facts it doesn’t like. You were in the forefront of the fight against the fire elemental not long ago, but we knew not to trust you. At least your adoptive sister is helping us. She’s useful too, from what I’ve heard. Might balance out some of the damage you’ve caused.”

  “I don’t believe Jo is helping you.”

  “As I said, human minds are great at rejecting evidence they don’t like,” Holliday said. “I’ve got to hand it to the blasted fire elemental though. Been one step ahead of us before we even knew he existed, striking at our weaknesses with pinpoint precision. It’s obvious now that, once sentinel turned on sentinel, the Order would have to fall.”

  “The extremism of Walker did more to destroy the Order than Uro ever did. Remember Robert Bobbit?”

  “I knew him as Dashel,” Holliday said. “He was a good man, and I was sad to see him go.”

  “I was there when Walker killed your fellow sentinel and friend. You stood quietly and said nothing. And now you rail against the fall from grace of the Sentinel Order as if you weren’t at the heart of that fall.”

  The warhammer formed in Holliday’s hands, and he thrust the point of the handle forward. I jumped backward. Instead of continuing his attack, Holliday stepped to the side and smashed the head of his warhammer into a dense mass of electronics.

  “Stop doing that!” I threw my hand forward, flinging out streams of fire which formed rings that surrounded the smoke sentinel.

  Holliday was about to swing with his warhammer, but the flames forced him to pull his arms close to his body. “That’s some nifty magic,” Holliday said. “It wasn’t long ago that fire sentinels couldn’t use magic. It was too dangerous.”

  “It’s different now,” I told him. “I can safely draw power from Uro’s Oasis.”

  “So that’s the cost of a soul these days? A little power.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “I guess a little power has been the price of a soul since time immemorial,” Holliday said. “Whatever this fire elemental did, in enhancing your ability to wield fire magic, it also restricted our smoke magic.” He scowled. “A double-whammy in your favor. Still, you’ve come a long way since we last fought,” Holliday said. “Remember that cabin by the lake? Then you fled as fast as your little chicken legs could carry you.”

  “I was caught unprepared,” I said. “But, yes, I’ve come a long way since then.” After several months of war, I undeniably excelled at fighting.

  “Is that a glint of pride I see?” Holliday asked. “Funny. Never think of evil dudes being proud of their ability to do evil, but I guess everyone needs a narrative to get them up in the morning.” He glanced across to where Konstance continued to film events. “Everyone’s the hero of their own story.”

  “You’re the one destroying everything, desperately trying to hide evidence of some terrible secret.” Thin trails of smoke were emerging from piles of debris. Given all the weird chemicals I’d seen, much of this lab was at least flammable; more likely explosive. I couldn’t let the sentinel continue to trash the place.

  Holliday jumped up and back, escaping the rings of fire that had imprisoned him. I darted forward, dissipating the rings and bringing my hands together for a fireball, which arrived just as he landed. Holliday couldn’t raise his hammer fast enough to block, and he was struck directly in the midsection. Instead of knocking him back as I’d expected, the fireball went straight through Holliday, leaving his body untouched. Or at least it seemed so—his clothes were undamaged.

  He fell to his knees, then he keeled over to the side, a look of shock on his face.

  I raced over to where he lay and knelt over him.

  “What in hell’s name did you shoot through me?” His face was white.

  “I’m not sure.” I used magic by instinct, always had.

  “Well, you’ve done for me.” Holliday coughed. “Or perhaps more accurately, the fire elemental has done for me, since you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “You’ll heal.”

  “I’ve been injured too many times to count, and I know what healing feels like. This isn’t that. This feels like my insides have liquified.”

  Konstance had emerged from his corner and now stood over us, his camera obnoxiously close.

  “Stop filming,” I ordered. “The movie part of this is over. At least the part with heroic action. Find an extinguisher and put out the fires before any weird substances decide to explode.”

  “I don’t think anything is on fire.”

  “Well, put out the smoke. By the time fire emerges, it may be too late to prevent an explosion.”

  Konstance reluctantly nodded. He put his camera on the floor and went off in search of an extinguisher.

  “Dashel’s death wasn’t my fault,” Holliday said. His voice was low and weak. “We faced what no other Order did. Walker had to make tough decisions; we all did. Fire sentinels were turning on us, one by one. Friends, allies. And then Sash also turned. No one could be trusted. You are proof we made the right decisions.”

  “Me?” I leaned closer. Holliday’s voice was barely a whisper.

  “Only one fire sentinel remained. Not a friend of ours but an opponent to the fire elemental in words and action. And yet, he turned you, too. None of you could be trusted.”

  “I didn’t mean to kill you.” It was a stupid thing to say. I fought and other people died—that was how it was.

  “Don’t worry about it, kid. My end was coming. I accepted that.” He gave me a bloody smile. “Have you?”

  “Me?”

  “It won’t be much longer. The Dawnsday Device.”

  Had I heard that right? “A doomsday device?”

  He choked on a laugh. “It’s that for us.” He coughed out blood. “The sentinel’s doom. But it’s the best way. No, not the best way—it’s terrible—but it’s the only way. The sentinels have failed, and the fire elemental must be stopped. At any cost!”

  I jerked upward at the sound of a crash. A door bounced its way down the stairs. I stood, summoning my fireswords as a troop of men marched down the steps. I recognized one, a lion shifter, who had a thick mane of golden hair even in human form, and I dismissed my fireswords. “How goes the battle upstairs?” I asked him.

  “It’s almost over.” The lion shifter looked around. “You killed the leader.”

  I glanced down and saw it was true. Holliday was dead. “That’s less important than what we can discover here,” I said. “Holliday was determined to destroy everything, which means there’s something to be found.”

  The lion shifter nodded. “Understood.”

  “He mentioned a weapon they are working on, something called the Dawnsday Device. Tell Beacon Sulle that he can find me at the usual place.” The usual was a late-night diner that stayed open until midnight. I’d grab a shower at my hotel, then I’d go there for food. By then, they might have sifted through the lab and found something useful.

  Konstance, noticing that I was about to leave, ran back across to retrieve his camera. “Wait. Before you go, do you have a final statement for the camera?”

  I turned away from him. “No.”

  “Go on,” he insisted.

  “War is ugly,” I said as I left.

  Chapter 3

  Sunday 23:35

  I kept the hood of my jacket low over my face, my shoulders hunched forward, my face close to the food as I shoveled it
in. Wearing a hood while eating made me look suspicious, of course, but, in these dangerous times, no one would challenge me. Sausages, two fried eggs, and beans had been my order, more of a breakfast than a late dinner, but I wasn’t exactly getting regular meals.

  After I had devoured the food, I still felt starved. I had chosen a booth at the back, near the window. Outside, the midnight sky was tinged red from the fires of war that burned. With fire sorcerers and shadiers both able to fling fireballs at each other, Brimstone—the world of smoke and fire—was coming closer to Earth in more ways than one.

  Grayson’s was a rough and tumble diner, with a thin veneer of grease coating everything from the battered jukebox in the corner to the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. While many of the fancier places had closed up shop due to the fighting, this place kept chugging along as if little had changed. Even this late, Grayson’s was busy. The TV in the corner was on, the volume set to maximum, and most in the bar were watching as Fred Hanson reported the raid on the police station. When Duffy had run the city, Hanson had reported whatever news the dragon wanted. Once Beacon Sulle took over, Hanson had quickly switched to reporting to Beacon Sulle’s taste.

  “This victory for Beacon Sulle’s forces was as absolute as is possible to be,” Hanson was saying. “One of the last bastions of the Sentinel Order’s power was captured, plus Beacon’s champion, Rune Russell, killed the leader of the sentinels in the city, Gary Holliday. I’m also given to understand that valuable intelligence was discovered inside the police station before it was destroyed. And”—his voice took on an excited tone—“Liberty News Network has exclusive video from inside the police station during the final assault.”

  The image of Fred Hanson disappeared, replaced by dark swirling smoke. As the smoke thinned, two slashes of red light appeared, which resolved into showing the back of a shadowed figure holding two fireswords. Then Konstance’s voice was played. “While the forces of darkness have clawed at the heart of Lusteer, one hero has stood at the forefront of the forces of light, a beacon of hope, if you will.”

  “Switch it over!” someone called out. “This is clearly staged.”

  “They can pretend their pet sentinel is some kind of hero if they want, but we don’t have to watch.”

  “Yes, change it now!” a tall slender man yelled out, standing up.

  “Okay, okay.” The crusted old graybeard behind the counter picked up the remote and muted the sound. “Don’t jump down my throat. The local news is still better for the latest happenings, even if their reporting is biased.”

  “Biased. It’s downright lies most of the time,” the tall man said. “And it’s not even local anymore; they changed their name from Lusteer News to Liberty News, remember. And whatever it’s called, I’m not cheering to have those alien-powered creatures take over our city, our home.”

  A murmur of agreement sounded throughout the diner.

  “Not so loud,” the graybeard man said. “You don’t know who’s listening.”

  “I don’t care who’s listening!” the tall man shouted out. “We’ve been afraid for too long. It’s time for the people of Lusteer to stand up and start getting loud. It’s not like things can get worse. Look outside. Lusteer’s burning.”

  “Things can always get worse,” the graybeard said quietly.

  Another person spoke up; this time it was a pimply-faced young man by the front door. “I wish it wasn’t so complicated. I’m not afraid, it’s just—”

  At the moment he said he wasn’t afraid, his voice broke, becoming a squeak, prompting laughter and howls of derision.

  The young man strode forward to be closer to those crowded around the counter. “Okay, so I am afraid. So what? Magic, fireballs, dragons. This isn’t the world we grew up in. Everyone here is afraid, and anyone who won’t admit it is a liar.” He stuck out his chin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to fight. It’s just I don’t understand who we are meant to be fighting.”

  The tall man nodded up at the TV, which showed Rune Russell silently beating up the men guarding the door down to the basement. “It’s because they are lying to you.”

  “And what’s the truth?” the young man asked. “The sentinels are the good guys, some say, but that guy up there is a sentinel beating up on the Sentinel Order. Then there are shades, shadiers, shifters, some place in a different dimension called Brimstone.” He threw his hands in the air. “What are we supposed to make of it all?”

  “It’s not as complicated as all that,” the tall man said. “Brimstone is where the invasion is coming from. Doesn’t matter where it is; just know that our enemy comes from there. Shades is what the alien creatures from Brimstone are called. Some change into animals, called shifters, some wield magical fire, called sorcerers, and they all wear human faces. But don’t fall for the disguise. That Beacon Sulle fellow and his pet newsman try to tell us that they are save us, but it’s the opposite. They aim to take our world for themselves.”

  “And sentinels? Shadiers?” the young man asked.

  Not even the sound of chewing or cutlery scraping against plates broke the silence, as the tall man paused before continuing. “Sentinels are humans born with powers, and the Sentinel Order was set up to organize the defense against these shades. Unfortunately, sentinels began to switch sides, to join with the shades. To combat that, the Sentinel Order figured out a way to bestow fire magic upon a select number of humans. These are the shadiers.”

  “And you say it’s not complicated.” The young man was frowning.

  “Put your trust in the Sentinel Order and their shadiers,” the tall man said. “Don’t listen to any of the lies that Beacon Sulle and his shades are telling you.”

  I could tell you lot a thing or two about the Sentinel Order, I thought. I was beginning to understand why Konstance hadn’t believed me when I’d declared that we were winning. Militarily, maybe. And via LNN, Beacon Sulle was trying to highlight the humanity of shades, but it seemed that few of the citizens of Lusteer would accept.

  On screen, I was facing off against Holliday. I watched us fight, dreading seeing the moment of shock when Holliday fell. At the same time, I was unable to look away.

  “You’ve muted, but you still haven’t changed channel,” the tall man said, and I was glad when the graybeard switched over to one of the national news channels.

  The change of channel didn’t get away from the war, because this network showed Walker standing on a podium bristling with microphones. “Turn that up,” the young man said. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to hear what Walker was going to say. They graybeard pressed the unmute button on the remote, then raised the volume, and Walker’s commanding voice rang out inside the diner.

  “By now, you’ve all heard of the latest tragic events in Lusteer,” Walker said. “Gary Holliday was my friend, and his sacrifice will not be forgotten. I’m not going to deny that we suffered a grave defeat, that before this is over, more blood will be shed and more brave men will lose their lives. We are facing some dark times. Lusteer is the epicenter of this war right now, but it may not end there. If Beacon takes Lusteer, then the rest of the country, the rest of the world, is next. We don’t fight because we want to, we fight because we have to. If we wait and allow our enemies to grow to power, a time will come when the threat will be too great.

  “For that reason, I can no longer remain in Washington. While Gary Holliday was fighting on the ground in Lusteer, I’ve fought my own battles here in the capital, striving to gain the support we need. I have been seeking a unified government response to this threat, and I still hold out hope that that will happen, but I’ve had enough of the hearings and lobbying and politicking. I simply can’t wait around anymore because I don’t have the time to just wait around and hope that the elected leaders will see sense. Humanity doesn’t have the time. Fortunately, there’s another way. The government is not the people. While it has procrastinated, paralyzed by indecision, people from all over the country have contacted me. Ordin
ary, everyday people, but brave, and willing to stand proud for their country and freedom.

  “I’m going to Lusteer, and I won’t be going alone. Lusteer will become flooded by the righteous, and we won’t leave until we have driven these alien creatures out of the country and off Earth.”

  Inside the diner, cheers rang out, cheers that drowned out the subsequent commentary from a news anchor. When an ad break came on, the graybeard muted the TV once more. “Enough with the cheering. If you want to start a revolution, do it outside.”

  As the diner gradually quieted down, someone slid into the booth opposite me. It was Konstance. “You should be paying better attention if you don’t want to be surprised,” he told me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked

  “Did you see my work on TV?” Konstance asked.

  “Your work?” I raised my eyebrows. “I saw myself on TV. I didn’t see you doing anything.”

  “Thanks. A good director fades into the background,” Konstance said. “You didn’t make it easy on me, I can tell you. Needed a hell of a lot of editing in post. You clearly don’t know the first thing about TV fighting. No inspirational monologues. Little in the way of flashy explosions and graceful choreography.”

  “It wasn’t a TV fight.”

  “You didn’t get hit on the head and get a concussion, did you? Remember the video camera.”

  “My mission wasn’t some propaganda stunt. What are you doing here? Where’s Beacon Sulle?”

  “He sent me.”

  I grimaced. “I was afraid of that.” Getting rid of Konstance with his pretensions of artistic propaganda might be more difficult than I had hoped.

  Konstance winked. “Don’t worry, I grow on people.”

  “What was learned?” Please make it useful, I thought.

  “Unfortunately, they are building it at the lab in City Hall,” Konstance said.

  “Building what?”