Cloak Games: Rebel Fist Read online

  “Not here,” said Corvus, and he passed me the keys to my motorcycle. “There might still be orcish soldiers stranded in the mall.” He looked around. “Meet us at that gas station on the other corner. That should be safe enough to talk.”

  I nodded, swung onto my bike, and started the engine. Corvus and Nora returned to their van, and I followed them across the street to the gas station. It was still dark, and I saw only a single emergency light within the gas station, shining upon rows of beef jerky and mints. It looked like a perfect hiding place, but I suppose orcs would have a hard time sneaking up on a pair of Shadow Hunters.

  The van stopped next to me, and I climbed off my bike as Nora and Corvus emerged.

  “You know,” said Nora, “that is really quite a nice motorcycle.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Do you have one?”

  “Oh, no,” said Nora. “I would find the experience too frightening.”

  I laughed. “Given that we fought orcs and anthrophages and Archons today, you have a peculiar sense of fright.”

  Nora grinned, her teeth flashing in the gloom, but said nothing.

  “Before the question,” said Corvus, stepping toward me and reaching for my face, “I promised you this.”

  I had a brief vision of him leaning down and kissing me, but instead he touched my right temple. There was a jolt of magical power, and the knowledge of a spell flashed through my thoughts. It was a ward, complex and intricate, but not nearly as powerful as the warding spell the Knight of Grayhold had taught me. Yet it was much more complex, and I suspected each single casting would last longer.

  “That spell,” said Corvus, “will keep you from leaving a trail of telepathic spoor. Cast it once a day, and it will last for twenty-four hours. I suggest casting it every morning when you awaken. Do so consistently, and the anthrophages will find it much harder to track you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “That’s…that will be really helpful. Like the lightning spell you taught me.” I shrugged, uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. “Um…thank you.”

  “You can repay me,” said Corvus, “by answering a question.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “When we first met,” said Corvus, “I thought you had been coerced into assisting a cult of the Dark Ones. Now I know you work for Morvilind.” I nodded once more. “The Shadow Hunters have long feared that the cult of the Dark Ones and the Rebels might become allies, and today’s events prove it. I will have to carry word of this to the Firstborn.”

  “Okay,” I said again, “but what is the question?”

  Corvus glanced at Nora for a moment, and then back at me.

  “Have you ever heard,” said Corvus, “of a man who calls himself the Forerunner?”

  “The Forerunner?” I said, and my mind flashed back to that awful day in Madison. “Yeah. Just once, recently.”

  “Where and when?” said Corvus.

  “Madison, on the day Rogomil tried to assassinate Jarl Rimethur,” I said. “Some of his thugs caught me. Rogomil punched me a few times, and started showing off his magic. He said,” I frowned, trying to remember, “he said that the Forerunner had shown him the way to victory, that the Forerunner had taught him this magic.”

  “I see,” said Corvus, sharing another look with Nora.

  “So who’s this Forerunner guy?” I said. “I take it he’s not a friend of yours.”

  “No,” said Corvus. “He is a wizard, ancient and powerful. The Shadow Hunters believe that he founded the cults of the Dark Ones upon Earth.”

  I frowned. “But you told me the Void Codex had been written in fifteenth century Germany.”

  Corvus nodded. “Likely the Forerunner is the one who dictated it to the cults of the Dark Ones. The Firstborn believe that he is at least as old as human civilization, and founded cults devoted to the Dark One in every nation and every empire in human history.”

  “Then you’re looking for him?” I said.

  “The Shadow Hunters have been looking for him since we were founded soon after the Conquest,” said Corvus. “The High Queen, too. I had hoped that you might lead him to us.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” I said.

  To my surprise, Corvus laughed. “Not at all. I would not wish for anyone to be in the Forerunner’s thrall. And my time with you has been profitable. We destroyed a Dark One cult in Milwaukee…and we have just saved the lives of everyone in the city.”

  “Yeah,” I said, making myself smile. “Profitable.” It stung a little. I had thought that he was attracted to me. Well, I must have been fooling myself. God knows that when it comes to men my judgment is not the best. I didn’t want to surrender any power over myself…but I was becoming willing to surrender a little of it to Corvus.

  Well, it was for the best that I had been wrong.

  “Goodbye, Miss Moran,” said Corvus. “Thank you again for all the help.”

  “Thank you for the spells,” I said. “The lightning globe has saved my life many times.”

  “Keep practicing,” said Corvus, walking around the van. “Eventually your aim will get better.”

  I snorted and shook my head.

  “Farewell, Miss Moran,” said Nora, and she gave me a handshake. “It was nice to meet you.”

  “You’re very kind,” I said.

  “Oh, no, I’m really not, tigress,” said Nora. “Be seeing you around, I think.”

  She grinned, climbed into the van, and drove away with Corvus.

  I watched them drive off, then let out a deep breath and fired up my motorcycle.

  ###

  About a week later I stood in the Marneys’ living room, or what was left of it, wearing an old sweatshirt, a baseball cap to keep my hair out of my eyes, jeans, and heavy work boots, a hammer in my hand as I helped rebuild the wall. To my great surprise, the house had not been condemned. Given all the reconstruction that was going on in Milwaukee, the price of contractors had shot through the roof, so James had decided to turn the rebuilding into a family project. He had plenty of volunteers from his Homeland Security battalion, who had apparently been impressed by his leadership during the fighting at the rift way. Three more orcish attacks had come through the gate while I had been fighting Rogomil at the Ducal Mall, and James and his men beat back every one of them.

  That was a much higher success rate than the late, unlamented Colonel Wilburn had enjoyed.

  Lucy had left a radio on in the corner, and I listened with half an ear as I drove nails into the beams. I had wondered if the Inquisition and the Department of Education would cover up everything, the way they had in Madison, but there had been too much damage and too many witnesses.

  Too many dead and injured and crippled.

  So, instead, the Inquisition and the Department of Education took the opposite approach.

  VICTORY IN MILWAUKEE, the news sites and videos declared, lauding the heroic resistance of Milwaukee’s men-at-arms and Elven nobles, the men and Elves who had fought valiantly to defeat the invasion of the depraved Archons and their savage orcish mercenaries. Patriotic music played non-stop, and every news site and every video channel showed coverage of the fighting, all of it edited to portray the battle as a smashing victory for the High Queen and her nobles. Duke Tamirlas distributed medals liberally, and I had watched from the rear of the auditorium as he had pinned one upon James’s chest.

  Well, at least James deserved it. Of course, James was a doctor and Lucy was a nurse, so they had been spending most of their time as the hospital lately. That left me and Russell to work on the rebuilding, since school would not resume until next week and I didn’t technically have a real job.

  “I’m going,” announced Russell, heading for where the front door would have been.

  I frowned at him. “Where?”

  He gave me an innocent look. “James and Lucy said it was okay.”

  “Where?” I said again.

  “Um,” said Russell. “Lydia and I are going to go see a movie.”

&nb
sp; I sighed. “Fine. Tell her that Natalie says hi.”

  Russell grinned, hugged me, and darted out the door. A moment later I saw him on his bike, pedaling furiously. Fourteen seemed too young for him to have a girlfriend. Of course, I suppose our parents had gotten married at eighteen. A lot of people did.

  And I was glad the events of the last week had not aged him too much.

  I worked in silence for a while, pounding nails into the beams as my mind wandered. Morvilind had not contacted me since the fighting at the mall, nor had he summoned me. I was fine with that. I suppose I ought to enjoy the peace and quiet for now. I wondered if…

  The rumble of an engine caught my attention, and a car pulled up in front of the house. I frowned and peered through the framework of wood, stepping towards the gun I had left concealed under a plastic tarp. The door opened, and a tall man with a shock of brown hair got out of the car, clad in jeans, a T-shirt, and a battered leather jacket, wrap-around sunglasses covering his eyes.

  It was Corvus.

  I smiled to myself and walked across the lawn.

  “You know,” I said, “whenever you show up, I get into a lot of trouble. So what the hell is going to happen now?”

  He stopped a few paces from me. “It depends. Have you been casting the concealment spell?”

  “Every day,” I said. “Take one a day, and call your doctor if any anthrophages appear.”

  He frowned, and then realized I was joking. “I am glad to hear it.”

  “So if not trouble,” I said, “what brings you here?”

  “This,” said Corvus, and he reached into his jacket and drew out a small brown envelope. I opened it and blinked. There were hundred dollar bills inside the envelope.

  A lot of hundred dollar bills.

  “Sergei Rogomil had a great many bounties on his head,” said Corvus. “Nora and I thought it fair to split the money with you three ways, and the Firstborn agreed. Take this money with the thanks of the Shadow Hunters, Miss Moran.”

  “I will,” I said. I wasn’t about to turn away the money, given how often I ran into financial problems. It would pay for a lot of the rebuilding on the Marneys’ house. “Thank you.”

  Corvus shrugged. “Thanks is not required. You earned it. Though I am curious about something.”

  “What’s that?” I said.

  “You killed Rogomil,” said Corvus, “and many of his soldiers. Do you regret it?”

  I started to say something glib, and then fell silent. He looked so gravely serious.

  “No,” I said at last. “Not in the least. I’m not a saint, Corvus. I know I have it in me to kill in cold blood.” I gave an angry shake of my head. “But you weren’t at the mall that morning. You didn’t see all the children there. Or all the people he murdered in Madison. The rat bastard got what he deserved, and so did his soldiers.” I met his gaze. “I have a lot of things on my conscience, but Sergei Rogomil and his soldiers are not one of them. Not now, not ever.”

  Corvus nodded. “Then you understand something of what it is to be a Shadow Hunter.”

  We stood in silence for a moment.

  “You know,” I said at last, “you should stop that.”

  “Stop what?” said Corvus.

  “Calling me Miss Moran,” I said.

  “Would you prefer Katerina Annovich?”

  I laughed. “Look, you know who I am, and you haven’t screwed me over with the information. Call me Nadia. You can do it. It’s a very short name.”

  “Only if,” said Corvus, “you cease calling me Corvus. I do not particularly care for the name.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who gave me that name.”

  “In hindsight, a grievous error. I will call you Nadia, if you call me Riordan.”

  “All right,” I said. “Riordan.”

  Riordan MacCormac inclined his head to me. “Thank you. Look after yourself, Nadia. You have my phone number in case you require assistance…or if you learn anything more about the Dark Ones or the Forerunner.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  He turned to go. He knew my name, knew about Russell, knew about Morvilind, and had not hurt me with that information. That information gave him power over me, and he had not used it to hurt me.

  My mouth went a bit dry.

  Maybe I could trust him a little further.

  “Hey,” I said. “Riordan. Wait.”

  Riordan stopped and turned. I pulled a pen and a bit of paper from my sweatshirt and scribbled down a number. “Here.”

  “What’s this?” said Riordan.

  “My phone number,” I said. “In case you want to give me a call sometime.”

  “If I need your help?” said Riordan.

  I shrugged, growing uncomfortable. “I mean…if you wanted to give me a phone call. See if I was free for an evening.”

  “Then…you are giving me your phone number,” said Riordan, blinking in surprise.

  “Yes,” I said. “I believe that is what I said.”

  For a long moment he stared at me.

  “Are you sure that is a good idea?” Riordan said. “You were not wrong when you said trouble follows me. And…some of the things Morvilind said about me were not untrue…”

  “I get it,” I said. “Look, I’ve…um, well, made some bad decisions. So I can’t blame you for that. And…come on, Riordan. Seriously. You said trouble follows you around. When was the last time you met more trouble than me?”

  He blinked, and then threw back his head and laughed louder than I had yet heard from him.

  “Not recently,” he said. “Keep your phone charged, Nadia Moran. Who knows? I might have an evening free the next time I am in Milwaukee.”

  “Maybe I’ll have that evening free,” I said. “Who knows?”

  He smiled once more, tucked my number into his coat pocket, and drove away.

  I grinned and walked back to the house, humming to myself as I retrieved my hammer. Maybe I shouldn’t have been in a good mood. Russell still had frostfever. I still had to do whatever Morvilind wanted, and everyone in Milwaukee had almost died.

  Still, it could have been so much worse.

  Epilogue

  Kaethran Morvilind walked alone in the darkness of his vault beneath Lake Michigan.

  Nadia Moran didn’t know about this place. None of the shadow agents he had trained over the last three centuries had ever found out about this chamber. Some of them had come close, but most had gotten themselves killed before they realized the truth. He had only been forced to kill two of his agents to prevent them from learning about the vault.

  Nadia, he suspected, might be the third one.

  She was very clever, her wit fused to boldness and competence, and her magical potential was much greater than she knew. The travails of the last year had made her stronger, and she had the ability to grow even more powerful.

  It was a risky balance. As she grew stronger, she was of more utility to Morvilind…but the risk of rebellion increased.

  No matter. Sooner or later she would be killed carrying out his will. And if she rebelled, he would simply kill her and start over. Fifteen years to train a replacement would be an annoying but minor inconvenience.

  He put the matter out of his mind.

  The Cruciform Eye rested upon his worktable, painting the vault with a sullen crimson light. Morvilind rarely indulged his emotions, but he did feel a certain satisfaction looking at the glowing sphere. He had been looking for one of the Eyes for a long time now, even before Tarlia had been driven from the homeworld and he had found Earth. Centuries of searching…and then the idiot Archons had simply carried one into his grasp.

  Idiots, idiots, idiots.

  Morvilind’s lips thinned.

  Well, the fools would get what they deserved in the end. They all would. For Kaethran Morvilind would save the Elves, no matter what it cost.

  No matter how many humans he had to go through to do it.

  Two other objects rested upon the table. O
ne was the clay cuneiform tablet that Nadia had stolen from Paul McCade, and the other the Ringbyrne Amulet that she had taken from Jarl Rimethur. Morvilind picked up the amulet and looked at the twenty human slaves he had purchased from the debtors’ court, all of them naked and kneeling upon the floor, motionless in the grip of his magic.

  He was going to have to use up a lot of slaves before this was finished.

  “It is time,” said Morvilind, “to begin another series of experiments.”

  Once the screaming was done and the blood cleared away, the results were quite promising.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading CLOAK GAMES: REBEL FIST. Look for Nadia's next adventure, CLOAK GAMES: SHADOW JUMP, to appear in 2016. If you liked the book, please consider leaving a review at your ebook site of choice. To receive immediate notification of new releases, sign up for my newsletter, or watch for news on my Facebook page.

  Other books by the author

  The Demonsouled Saga

  MAZAEL CRAVENLOCK is a wandering knight, fearless in battle and masterful with a sword.

  Yet he has a dark secret. He is Demonsouled, the son of the ancient and cruel Old Demon, and his tainted blood grants him superhuman strength and speed. Yet with the power comes terrible, inhuman rage, and Mazael must struggle to keep the fury from devouring him.

  But he dare not turn aside from the strength of his blood, for he will need it to face terrible foes.

  The priests of the San-keth plot and scheme in the shadows, pulling lords and kingdoms upon their strings. The serpent priests desire to overthrow the realms of men and enslave humanity. Unless Mazael stops them, they shall force all nations to bow before the serpent god.

  The Malrag hordes are coming, vast armies of terrible, inhuman beasts, filled with a lust for cruelty and torment. The Malrags care nothing for conquest or treasure, only slaughter. And the human realms are ripe for the harvest. Only a warrior of Mazael’s power can hope to defeat them.