Spear of Destiny by James Baldwin (little bear else holmelund minarik .TXT) 📕

“Yeesh.” I flinched as meat rained down across the stairs. “I wonder how the fuck Jacob will try and explain THAT.”

I looted both mages, taking their remaining mana, slung my spear over my back, and grabbed a rifle from the floor, checking it was loaded and scrounging more ammunition from the dead rebels. There were five more corpses on the stairwell, killed by shadows, and evidence that others in here had fled. I barreled up to the top floor, the rifle braced in against my shoulder, and cleared each corner until I reached the half open doors of the Lord’s Chambers. There was a repetitive clunking sound coming from inside.

“Zoltan! Come out with your hands up!” I found the best position I could—the wall next to the doorway.

The only reply was the growing roar of airship engines from outside the building.

“Uh oh.” I turned around and kicked in the door to find an empty apartment. The bedroom was straight ahead, both entry doors flung open, the bed in disarray. The sheets had been ripped up. To the right, a pair of large French doors opened out onto a small balcony, banging loudly as the wind outside grew into a howl. I ran over to find a rope hanging down from the stone railing—and to see Zoltan’s small airship careen up toward me from the ground.

“Oh you fucking-!” I raised the rifle and fired, aiming for the ring of blazing bluesteel that encircled the airship’s hull and deck. Two out of three rounds impacted, spanging and sparking off the magically-charged metal, but they didn’t slow the craft as the ring spun faster and the yacht careened toward Solonovka at speed.

Before I had time to regret my life choices, I threw the rifle down, bounded up onto the edge of the railing, and sprung out into the open air toward the retreating airship. For one slow heartbeat, there was nothing but me, a whole lot of empty space, and the gradual slowing of time as Leap of Faith kicked in... and my hands slapped onto the starboard stern.

Spider Climb kicked in, attaching to the side of the yacht like a barnacle as it gunned its ring-like engine and powered toward the curtain wall. Karalti’s bellow of rage and alarm broke through the whining roar of turbines. I looked back to see her launch herself into the air from the wall, drooling white, phosphorescent fire from her jaws.

“Don’t torch the boat! For the love all that is holy, do not torch that boat!” I slapped my other hand down, pulling myself up arm over arm as Spider Climb’s 20-second timer ran down. Once I got my feet to cling, I scrambled up at a fast crawl until the last second, tensed through, and sprung up in a second Jump. The angle was awkward, but I managed to catch the railing of the ship’s deck. Straining, I pulled myself up—only to find myself looking up into the muzzle of a great big fuck-off rifle.

“Didn’t your momma ever tell you it’s rude to stick your junk in someone else’s face?” I asked, resisting the urge to cross my eyes as the barrel split in my vision.

“Oh, a comedian, are we?” The man with the elephant gun could only be Zoltan Gallo. He was tall, thick as a barrel, with the bleary piggish eyes and fleshy red cheeks of an alcoholic. His armor was about two sizes too small to contain his gut, but he held the rifle like someone who’d spent years looking down an iron sight. “How do you want to die, pretender? Should I make you plummet to your doom, or blow your head off like common vermin?”

“How about-?” I reached up and yanked the barrel past my face and over my shoulder as he fired. The sound was deafening—literally, as my hearing cut to a high-pitched whine—but the recoil and forward momentum threw him off balance. He stumbled against the rails with a shout, a boss health meter appearing in a ring behind his head. I struggled to pull myself up, only to have his thick hobnailed boot come down on my left hand.

“OWW! Whore!” My fingers couldn’t keep grip on that side, slipping as the yacht lurched. Zoltan leered at me, raising his foot to stomp the other hand.

A huge black shadow streaked over the airship: Karalti, rocketing by close enough that the craft’s engine surged. The deck bucked like a mustang: Zoltan let out a shout of dismay as the pitch threw him off his feet and sent him rolling into the outer wall of the enclosed bridge. I snapped my jaws and pulled myself up over the rail, rolling to my feet as the ship’s stabilizers kicked in and it swung back.

“Arrgh! Get that dragon!” Zoltan roared, getting back to his feet and pulling a saber from his belt.

I followed his line of sight, and my stomach wrenched as I saw his crewmates scramble out of the lower deck and into position in front of a small cannon.

“Watch out: incoming fire, 3 o’clock!” I charged a rush of power from the Mark of Matir, and flew at Zoltan while he was still flat-footed.

The man got his sword up to block: for all the good it did. Shadow Lance landed nearly a thousand points of damage against the edge of the plain steel blade, shattering it. Zoltan cried out, stumbling away up the length of the deck. I chased him, transmuting the Spear’s polarity to fire, and went straight for his leg.

There was a rolling ‘boom’ from the back of the small craft, with recoil that caused the yacht to see-saw as it tore at full speed toward the city.

[Glancing blow! Karalti takes 244 ballistic damage!]

Karalti was invisible in the dark, thanks to her holographic hide, but I knew by the sound that