Cloak Games: Shadow Jump Read online

  “Anything is better than here,” said Cecilia.

  I nodded and took several deep breaths, gathering my will and power for a spell…

  And as I did, a huge blue glyph, nearly thirty yards across, blazed to life beneath my feet. I spun, and saw that Boccand and Cecilia and I stood in the center of the glyph, an enormous Seal of Shadows.

  A Seal that would keep me from opening a rift way back to Earth.

  Dozens of gaunt, gray figures emerged from the arcades. The anthrophages raced forward on all fours, surrounding the Seal. I looked back and forth, fresh panic bubbling up inside me.

  “And here we are again, Mr. Boccand,” said a familiar voice.

  Martin Corbisher strode through the crowd of anthrophages, his left hand extended, the fingers glimmering with blue light as he maintained the powerful Seal.

  It seemed that he could use magic as well.

  “Corbisher,” spat Boccand. “Just how much of your soul have you sold to the Dark Ones to get that kind of power?”

  “Why, all of it,” said Corbisher with a smile. “But what I received in return is well worth it. Which you shall learn shortly in the final moments of your lives."

  Chapter 11: Let’s You And Him Fight

  “No,” I said before Corbisher could continue his monologue. “No, you’re not going to do that.”

  “Oh?” said Corbisher. He grinned, his teeth reflecting the light of the Seal. I wondered how much money he had spent having them whitened. “And just why am I going to do that?”

  I had no idea. I was stalling, hoping to come up with a good idea. So far, nothing had come.

  “I think you know why,” I said.

  Corbisher tilted his head, considering me. “And just who the hell are you?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I said.

  “Do enlighten me,” said Corbisher.

  “I am Queen Elizabeth the Ninth,” I announced, “by the grace of God Queen of England, Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland, and Defender of the Faith and…uh, so forth.” I gestured at Boccand and Cecilia. “I saw that my subjects were in peril, and I ventured forth to rescue them.”

  They all stared at me.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” muttered Boccand, rubbing his face.

  “Do you always have such a smart mouth?” said Corbisher.

  “This is nothing,” I said. “You should hear me when I’m rested.”

  “Really?” said Corbisher. “If this is like when you’re tired, I hate to think of the havoc you could cause when you were rested.”

  I said nothing. Why hadn’t he ordered his anthrophages to attack? He had the advantage. He wasn’t even in that much danger. I could try to hit him with a spell, but since the anthrophages would overwhelm us in one quick rush, I might not even be able to pull that off.

  Ah…but he didn’t know that, did he?

  I considered the situation from his perspective. Everything had been going according to plan. He’d murdered his father, seized control of the Corbisher empire and Dark One cult, and coerced Boccand into stealing the ritual tablet for him. He had been ready to force Boccand to give him the tablet.

  Then I had come along and thrown a massive wrench into his plans. He had never seen me without the mask, and he had no idea who or what I was. Another independent thief? An Inquisition agent, maybe, come to investigate his illegal activities? Or a member of a rival cult? Based on the Dark One cultists I had already met, I couldn’t imagine they all sang from the same hymn book, to use one of James Marney’s favorite metaphors.

  Whatever the reason, Corbisher wasn’t sure how dangerous I was…and that moment of hesitation, that caution, was my only advantage.

  And then a very, very dangerous idea popped into my head.

  “Out of curiosity,” I said, taking a step to the side. “Why did you kill your father? It seemed wasteful.”

  Corbisher watched me for a moment, and then shrugged. “Dad was a genius, but his thinking was…obsolete. He was too afraid of the High Queen. Too used to the old ways of hiding in the shadows and slinking through alleys. That time is over. The world is changing, and we must change with it. Soon the time will come when we can act openly and strike against our enemies.”

  “Oh, totally,” I said. “You’ll overthrow the High Queen and bring freedom and peace and love and puppies to Earth, and you’ll go right on thinking that until you get hung from a gallows on a Punishment Day video. I don’t really care, Corbisher. All I want is the ritual tablet. Then you can keep wallowing in your fantasies until the Inquisition catches you.”

  “The tablet?” said Corbisher. “That’s why you rescued Boccand? You must be from another cult.”

  I shrugged. “Believe what you like.”

  “It is time for unity,” said Corbisher in the exact tone of voice I recognized from his radio ads.

  Was he trying to recruit me?

  “And just why is that?” I said.

  “Because the Knight of Venomhold has gathered the Rebels and the servants of the Dark Ones in a single grand alliance,” said Corbisher. “Together we are far stronger. Together we shall at last have the strength to overthrow the Elves and restore freedom to Earth. You must have come from one of the remaining independent cults, yes? Join us, and you can share in the glory to come.”

  “You should have kept your father alive, Martin,” I said, taking another step to the left. I could see down the corridor back to the cavern. “He was smarter than you. Better to keep to the shadows. All that shooting in Minneapolis today. You really think you can keep that covered up?”

  “The Minneapolis branch of Homeland Security listens to me,” said Corbisher.

  “Yeah, but the Inquisition doesn’t,” I said. “And the Inquisition has a lot of bullets, and doesn’t really care about your money.”

  Corbisher’s face hardened. “Then you are an Inquisition agent.”

  “Believe what you like,” I said, half-turning. The anthrophages tensed, my instincts screaming for me to run, but they didn’t move yet. “I should point out that if I was an Inquisition agent, you’d have been arrested already. Or I would have simply shot you in your sleep. Or I’d have hired out the job to the Shadow Hunters.”

  Yes. I could see the glint of metal at the end of the corridor. I glanced back at Boccand and Cecilia. They stood close together, close enough that I could touch both of their shoulders at once.

  This might work. Or it might get all three of us killed.

  Corbisher let out a long sigh of pleasure.

  “What?” I said. “You sound like you just soiled yourself.”

  “You are an Inquisition agent,” said Corbisher, “but an incompetent one. Regrettable indeed. A good spy keeps herself hidden, and doesn’t engage in…theatrics.” He smiled. “You were hoping to collect evidence against me, I assume. You should have done that and fled. Not come here, of all places.” He frowned. “Why did you come here?”

  I took a deep breath, preparing myself. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “It hardly matters,” said Corbisher. “I’ll give you once chance to tell me where the tablet is, Boccand. Tell me where it is, and if it’s really there, I’ll let you and your woman go. The Inquisition agent is mine, I’m afraid. But you can go, so long as you keep your mouth shut.”

  Boccand hesitated, looking back and forth between me and Cecilia.

  “He’ll just kill us anyway,” said Cecilia, her blue eyes wide as she stared at the waiting anthrophages.

  “The alternative, of course,” said Corbisher, “is that I kill you both. I think I’ll have the anthrophages start on your girlfriend, Boccand. One finger sliced off at a time. How many do you think it will take before you break? I would say three, but…”

  “Hey, asshole,” I said.

  Corbisher fell silent, his lips pressing into a thin like. I suspected few people addressed him in that tone of voice.

  “Before you get started,” I said, “do you want to know why we came here?”

 
“By all means,” said Corbisher.

  “I came here,” I said, making a flourishing gesture with my right hand, “to do a magic trick.”

  Before anyone could stop me, I spun and cast a spell, swinging my hand towards the corridor leading back to the cavern. The anthrophages flinched, but gray light shimmered around my fingers for an instant, and nothing else happened. My will reached out, as if my thoughts had become fingers, and I focused my mind as hard as I could.

  In the distance I heard a faint metallic click, and a fresh surge of terror and elation went through me.

  “Ta-da!” I said, doing a deep bow.

  I just had to keep their attention on me for a few more minutes.

  “That was singularly unimpressive,” said Corbisher. He looked at one of the nearby anthrophages. “What did she do?”

  “She cast a spell of telekinetic force, master,” said the anthrophage, its burning yellow eyes fixed upon me. “But it was weak. Sufficient only to move ten or fifteen pounds of weight.”

  “Maybe it would have been more impressive if I had done it in high heels and a bikini,” I said. “But since you’re a Rebel, I hear you prefer your women unconscious and drugged.”

  “As you shall soon learn firsthand,” said Corbisher.

  I stepped forward and clapped one hand on Cecilia’s shoulder and the other upon Boccand’s. It was a lot easier to reach Cecilia’s. Both of them looked baffled.

  “Don’t move, whatever happens,” I whispered.

  “Enough nonsense,” said Corbisher. “Take them. Alive. Enough pain will force them to reveal the truth. Take…”

  The bloodrat surged into the courtyard.

  I wasn’t very good with the spell of telekinetic force, and couldn’t shift more than ten or fifteen pounds of weight with it, but that was enough to pull the lever jutting from the corridor wall. The portcullis had opened, and the bloodrat had raced out in pursuit of me.

  And, as I had guessed, it was not in any mood to play nice.

  It crashed into the anthrophages, flinging them aside like toys, and it bit one in half with a single snap of its jaws, black ichor spraying over its fur. As the bloodrat attacked, I drew upon all my power and cast the Cloak spell, making myself, Cecilia, and Boccand invisible. The strain was immense, and I gritted my teeth, sweat beading on my skin. I had once been able to Cloak both myself and Riordan while we fled anthrophages in the Shadowlands, and that had been challenging. Keeping three people Cloaked at once was much harder, and I didn’t think I could manage it for more than a minute or two.

  Corbisher shouted, trying to reason with the bloodrat, but that the creature was far too angry for that. Some of the anthrophages attacked the bloodrat, while others fled in terror. Corbisher screamed at them to return, but they sensibly didn’t listen.

  My arms shook with the effort of holding the Cloak. I didn’t think I could do it for more than another few seconds.

  Then Corbisher made his second mistake.

  His first mistake had been his method for casting the Seal of Shadows. Morvilind, for all his brutality, had at least shown me how to use the Seal properly. Likely Corbisher had not benefited from the same kind of harsh training. Rather than laying out the Seal like a trap, he had cast it like a ward, holding it in place with his magic and limiting his ability to use other spells, just as I couldn’t cast any other spells when Cloaking myself.

  With the bloodrat rampaging towards him like a runaway train, Corbisher was going to need his other spells very soon.

  “You idiot!” screamed Corbisher. “We’re on the same side!”

  “Morsels!” roared the bloodrat, killing another pair of anthrophages. “I will feast! Feast upon human meat!”

  Corbisher’s eyes widened, and he drew back his power to cast a spell. The Seal of Shadows winked out of existence, and I had my chance.

  I let my Cloak collapse, a wave of exhaustion rolling through me, but I ignored it and yanked the key from my pocket, summoning as much power as I could. The bloodrat spun towards me, its eyes glaring as it swatted aside another anthrophage, and Corbisher gestured at me, black fire burning around his hands as he cast a spell.

  “Stop them!” shouted Corbisher. “Stop them, stop them, stop them…”

  The bloodrat shot towards me like a giant red arrow.

  Power erupted from me, and the rift way ripped open in front of us, mist and gray light spilling into the gloomy courtyard of Venomhold.

  “Bye!” I said, and I shoved Cecilia and Boccand forward.

  The last thing I heard was Corbisher screaming.

  Maybe the bloodrat needed to work out some frustrations.

  Again I had the sensation of falling and dislocation. Sunlight flooded my vision, and a wave of hot, dry air washed over me. My foot scuffed against a patch of cracked asphalt, and I stumbled and fell upon my back. For a moment I was too stunned and too tired to do anything but attempt to catch my breath.

  It was really hot.

  “Miss Rastov!” Cecilia knelt next to me, Boccand hovering behind her. “Miss Rastov! Are you hurt?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “No. Wait. I’m fine. Just tired. Need to see where we are.”

  I sat up, looked around, and laughed.

  My crazy plan had worked.

  We were sitting in a deserted parking lot, weeds jutting from the cracked asphalt. Next to the parking lot yawned an open cellar, deserted excerpt for weeds, graffiti, and some trash. On this side of the street stood worn apartment buildings, and across the street I saw various businesses – a laundromat, a convenience store, a place that sold liquor. A bus rumbled past, and most of the pedestrians looked either Asian or Hispanic.

  “What is funny?” said Boccand. “I don’t see anything that looks funny.”

  “We’re alive,” I said. “That’s what funny. It was so unexpected.”

  “Where are we?” said Cecilia.

  “Los Angeles,” I said. “Um. Rosemead, actually, one of the suburbs.” I lifted the key. “I lived in that apartment building for a couple of months a few years ago.”

  “What apartment?” said Cecilia.

  “That one,” I said, pointing at the empty cellar. “I sort of burned it down.”

  “Of course you did,” said Boccand.

  “Yeah,” I said. It was really hot, too hot for my motorcycle jacket…and plus I was carrying a lot of weapons. The gun laws had a lot of loopholes, but there was no way I could walk down the street with an AK-47 and two pistols. I unslung the AK-47 from my shoulder, and then pulled off my coat and gun belt. I wrapped the belt around the AK-47, and then rolled it up in my coat, stuffing my cap and mask and goggles into the sleeve.

  After the chill of Minnesota, the heat and the sun was pleasant.

  “Oh,” said Cecilia.

  “What?” I said.

  “It’s just…you’re so young,” she said. “I was expecting someone older.”

  I laughed. “Wait a few years.”

  “Armand,” said Cecilia. “Are we…are we really safe?”

  “Yeah,” said Boccand, looking at me. “I think we are. Corbisher will have no way of following us. He won’t even know where we are.”

  “Assuming the bloodrat didn’t bite his head off,” I said. “It was a little angry.”

  “You have a gift for that,” said Boccand.

  I performed a fake little curtsy.

  “Oh, God, we’re safe,” said Cecilia, and she turned and buried her face in Boccand’s chest. He blinked in surprise, but then wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, we’re safe. We’re safe. Thank you, Armand.” She looked at me. “And thank you, Miss Rastov, whoever you are. Corbisher would have killed us if you hadn’t come along.”

  “Well,” I said. “I took you to Venomhold by accident. Seemed only fair to save your lives after that.” I met Boccand’s gaze. “Are you going to keep our deal? Are you going to tell me where the tablet is?”

  “That thing is dangerous,” said Boccand in a quiet voice. “Maybe it would be
better if it was never found.”

  “Maybe,” I said, “but I don’t have any choice in the matter. You know who I work for and why.”

  Boccand sighed. “True. And you did save our lives. All right. The tablet is still in La Crosse.”

  “What?” I said. This entire time, the damned thing had been in La Crosse?

  Boccand nodded. “I can show you how to get it. First…um, we need to get out of Los Angeles. We don’t have a car or any money.”

  “Leave that to me,” I said.

  Chapter 12: Invitations

  The next few days were relatively peaceful.

  Hidden in a concealed packet of my jacket I had a folded wad of $100 bills, emergency funds for just such a time as this. I found a man selling a battered old pickup truck off the books, and after an extended argument in Spanish, I bought the truck for half of my emergency money. The truck was in terrible shape, but it ought to last until we got back to Minnesota.

  We drove in shifts across the western United States, taking turns at the wheel as the truck rumbled down the freeway. Cecilia had wanted to take the train or the zeppelin, but both Boccand and I had overridden her. Using the train or the zeppelin meant showing ID, and we didn’t have any proper ID with us and no means with which to forge cards or documents. The truck was safer, even if it was louder and much less comfortable.

  I wound up doing most of the driving. I was more used to staying awake for long periods of time than either Boccand or Cecilia, and Cecilia in particular was exhausted from her captivity. She spent a lot of time sleeping in the middle seat, her head resting against Boccand’s shoulder.

  I had left my main phone with my van. I’d carried a burner phone in my pocket, but it had been with me in the Shadowlands, and the Shadowlands fried any electronics after a few seconds. When we stopped in Salt Lake City for gas, I bought a crappy phone with my dwindling supply of cash, the kind of phone that comes in a plastic blister pack and looks as if it was designed by preschoolers. Nevertheless, once I activated the phone it (mostly) received Internet, so I checked the news from the Twin Cities.

  “Looks like Martin Corbisher has been reported missing,” I said, scrolling through a news site. “Evidently there was a Rebel terrorist attack at Corbisher Tower yesterday, and it’s feared that the CEO of the Corbisher Group was among the dead.”