Endless Knight

42

“FEAST! OFFERING!”

“Lark!” I screamed. “Run—”

“SABBAT!” Ogen’s mighty fist burst through the window. Glass shattered, riddling me as his fist connected with my entire torso.

Lark was shrieking when I slammed into the far wall. Bones fractured. Skull? Ribs? Shoulder blade? Shards jutted from my skin. Unable to rise, I watched Ogen snatch at Lark as the wolves defended, tearing at his arms. This far across the room, she and I were out of his reach.

Though I expected her to flee, following the exodus of creatures tromping and flying to safety, she darted over to me, helping me stand. She’d caught a lot of glass too.

Ogen twisted his great bulk, wedging himself through the window opening. “ALTAR EMPTY!” he boomed. “FRESH ENTRAILS.”

Recognition hit my panicked mind. In his own way, Matthew had warned me of this. The lightning hides the monster. I’d just glimpsed Ogen by the light of a bolt. And Matthew had given me instructions: You must slice yourself when the altar is empty. Ogen’s altar was empty; it was time to lose my cuff.

I whispered to Lark, “T-take me to the basement. To the sunlamps.”

“Shit, shit! Boss’ll kill me.” But she did start out the doorway, whistling for her wolves to follow. She yelled to Ogen, “Hey, dickwad, meet me in the kitchen!”

“MEAT YOU!” he yowled, withdrawing from the window so quickly the building shook.

With my arm stretched across her shoulders, we scrambled away, heading in the direction opposite to the kitchen, a trio of wolves at our heels. As we fled upstairs, I gasped out, “What’s happening?”

“It’s some Sabbat that I’m not aware of,” she murmured. “Could be some big annual one.”

We lurched up more stairs, a flight that I didn’t remember seeing before.

“I’ve never seen him so big, Evie. I’ve called for reinforcements from the barn, but it might take them a while to follow my instructions to pick the lock.” We careened along a corridor until she stopped in front of a wall.

She pressed her hand against the wainscoting, and a panel swung open. Just before it hissed closed behind our troupe, her falcon gave a piercing cry and dove inside.

In total darkness, I was again forced to rely on Lark’s night vision as we hastened down flight after flight of stairs. Had we gone up, just to go down into the belly of this building?

The air grew humid, our surroundings quieter. I couldn’t hear the rain, only paws padding behind us, wings flapping, and my bones grinding as they began to reset themselves.

I called for Aric. We’re in trouble—you have to return! No answer. I even called for Matthew. Nothing.

“Just hold on, Evie. We’re here.” She propped me against a wall.

I heard a key jangling in a lock, then the sound of a wheel turning, like with a bank vault. With a click, a door groaned open, and light spilled into the landing where we stood.

Warm light.

I was dumbfounded by the sight in front of me. As big as Warehouse 13, and filled with table after table of growing plants. Sunlamps covered every inch of soaring ceiling, cascading light onto my thirsty skin.

Lark locked us and her creatures inside. “This door might not keep Ogen out when he’s in this form.” Leaning back against it, she pulled a shard from her hip. She was bleeding from the glass almost as badly as I was. “I’ll leave the falcon here to listen for him. Let’s get to the back.”

As Lark and I set off across the bunker, wolves in tow, I soaked up the light, feeling my brain starting to fire again. I plucked shards from my own skin, my regeneration accelerating.

We passed rows of plants, like orderly battalions. There were potted vines and even saplings. They wouldn’t be as strong as giant oaks or as stealthy as my weapon of choice: roses. Still, this was a decent army—if I could reclaim my powers.

Ogen would find us down here eventually; I only hoped I could lay a trap before then. “Lark, I need a really sharp knife.” Or, depending on time . . . “Maybe an ax?” It’ll grow back.

“Gee, forgot both of mine in the rush.” She peered around the garden. “I can get you a spade. Or a trowel.”

I gazed down at her claws, dreading what I knew must happen. “You’ve cut through skin before, right? With your claws?”

“Oh, hell, no. Don’t even think about this, Evie.”

“Believe me, I’m open to alternatives.”

“Boss is supposed to be back today. Maybe he’ll get here in time?”

“Willing to bet your life on that?” I snatched her hand. “You help me get this cuff off, or we die.”

She gazed at me as if awed. “You are stone-cold, aren’t you?”

“No. Not at all. But I’ll still get you to cut on me.”

By the time we’d reached a back corner, I’d gotten her to give in.

“Fine!” She flared her claws. “Tell me what you want.”

I explained how she needed to slice the skin above and below the cuff, along the edges, like she was tracing around a Solo cup. The barbs were in too deep for the metal piece to be slipped down my arm, so I figured we’d just work that circle of skin down too. Easy, peasy. Oh, and we’d do this while excising my bicep. So a couple more slices on each side of the muscle, please.

I yanked off my sweater, twisting the sleeve for something to bite down on, because I’d seen that before in a movie.

When I stuffed the material between my teeth, she raised her scalpel-sharp foreclaw. “This is so messed up.” With her pupils the size of saucers, she began to cut around the cuff.

The pain made my eyes water, but I nodded for her to keep going.

Once she’d made all the cuts to my skin, blood was streaming, making everything slippery. I was growing so delirious that I thought I saw a flicker of enjoyment in her eyes. Red of tooth and claw.

But when I looked closer at her face, all I saw was queasy paleness.

I drew the material from my mouth. “You have t-to hurry,” I choked out. “With this much green and light . . . I’ll heal right up. When I pull the cuff higher, you slip beneath and”—my voice quavered—“yank on the muscle. Quick.” Back in went the sweater sleeve.

With an unsteady nod, she used her claws to get a good pincer hold of the slick muscle, then began her gruesome task.

Through gushing tears, I stared up at the ceiling, feeling pressure, pain, pressure, pain! I shrieked against my sweater. As if he’d heard even that muted sound, Ogen bellowed from somewhere above, bounding through the manor.

“We’re done with that part.” Why was she swaying so much? Or was that me? Delirious. Stay conscious, stay conscious. She started pulling down on the cuff.

Oh, God, the barbs! I vomited in my mouth, choking it back. My legs tottered as I tried to give her a counterforce.

Almost to my elbow, almost . . .

The metal came free in a rush of blood, hitting the floor with a bounce. Done! Shuddering, I spat out my sweater, then rested my good arm on a plant shelf. As I leaned over, I narrowed my eyes at the grisly sight of the cuff. The barbs looked like roots growing into my former skin.

Lark tore the hem of her jersey, using the material to tie a bandage around my mutilated, limp arm.

Good. Didn’t want to see it.

“I can’t believe we did that! Now don’t mummify me in vine, ’kay?”

Freed, I commanded everything to grow. Despite my injuries, I was brimming with power.

Conserve? I had for months.

My army obeyed so quickly, I could hear their skittering spurts. As stalks, stems, and leaves sprang to life, Lark’s eyes darted. “This is so disturbing.”

“So were your cobras.”

“What’s the game plan?” she asked.

“We’ll have to behead Ogen, right?” At her nod, I said, “To reach us back here, he’ll have to fight his way through a jungle, getting weaker and weaker. I’ll hold him in place while your wolves tear at his softer belly. After we force him to the ground, we’ll use their fangs to sever his neck.”

“Okay. They know the program.”

Somewhere above us, he roared, “I smell pretty MEAT.”

“He’s coming, Lark. Use my blood. Get it on any leaves you can. It’ll make them even stronger. I’ll create a last barrier to defend us.”

She dropped down to flatten her palms in the puddle at my feet. Patty-cake. Delirious.

“Our blood is mixing like crazy.” She rose to flick her coated fingers. Crimson on green. “Like we’re blood sisters. Think that’ll give me an extra life in this battle?”

“I have no idea.” While my barricade thickened, I spied something along the back wall . . .

A rosebush. My lips curved. Oh, Aric, you shouldn’t have.

As Lark lined up her wolves in front of the barricade, I grew the rose until the thorns were as big as blades, the stalks like chains. Recalling another Arcana’s tactic, I positioned the stalks just so for Ogen. A last backup.

Finished, I turned to Lark. “You could leave the wolves and go hide.” When she hesitated, I said, “Weirdly, I care if you live or die. I’ll be more concerned with saving your bony ass than taking him out. You can’t help me against him.”

“That doesn’t feel right. I’ll stick around—”

Rock and rubble exploded down from the ceiling; not fifty feet from us, Ogen had punched his way through the floor of the manor!

He lowered his head through the new hole, sharpening his horns on the jagged side of the opening. “Smell BLOOD!” When he dropped down into the warehouse, tremors rippled beneath our feet.

Lark’s face paled even more. “Oh. Shit.”

Ogen wouldn’t have to negotiate a jungle before he got to us, wouldn’t be weakened.

When the wolves hunched down, snarling to fight, I snapped out of my shock. With a wave of my hand, vines shot out to lasso him. They bound his wrists and ankles, coiling around his horns.

Once he was caught, the wolves attacked as one, going for his belly. He roared with pain as the three snatched chunks out of his hide. Greenish-yellow goo seeped from his wounds.

The falcon dove into the battle, hovering above Ogen’s head, scratching and pecking at his eyes.

“It’s working!” Lark cried.

I’d just nodded at her when Ogen thrashed, ripping free from all my vines. He whipped his head around, jabbing one horn into the falcon’s breast. A bloody bundle of feathers thudded to the ground.

Eyes wide, I threw everything I had at him, unending vines. The wolves took turns snapping at any exposed hide.

Despite this all-out assault, he began to advance, shuffling past a minefield of plants. If I could restrain his right arm, he used his left to peel off the bindings. If I managed to snag one leg, he’d drag it behind him until it pulled free.

Where was he getting this strength from? Was he growing even larger?

“NO boss.” He grinned, dripping saliva. “Now FEAST!”

When he reached the barricade, the wolves redoubled their attack—

He scooped one up, twisting its body like a blood-soaked rag. I cried out when he broke Cyclops over his knee. He trampled the third under his hoof.

Through each attack, Lark jerked and gasped for breath. Turning watering eyes toward me, she sputtered, “Wh-what do we do now?”

We were trapped in the back corner, with only one barricade to keep Ogen out.

With a slobbery grin, he squeezed his right hand into a fist. I braced myself, knowing what was coming. He launched that fist at my barrier, punching a hole through it, sending agony all over my body. Though I fought to seal the rift, he’d already gotten one leg in.

He yelled, “ALTAR!” and busted through. Lark scurried out of the way, but he was too quick. With the back of one hand, he swatted her. She flew into the wall—and didn’t move.

My fear gave way to the heat of battle. “You’re going to die for that.” Needing to get him into position, I skirted closer to my trap. “Come, Devil. Touch.” In our Arcana battle at the riverside, Gabriel had surprised Death with a net. I had one of my own at the ready.

When Ogen lunged for me, a net of rose stalks cascaded over him, giant thorns sharper than barbed wire.

“But you’ll pay a price.”

He roared as I tightened the stalks around him, their blades razoring his hide. Tighter, tighter, cutting to the bone. “Don’t you remember your commands, Ogen? I’m telling you to stay . . .” My words trailed off.

Ogen was morphing again. As I watched in horror, he grew even larger, his height stretching toward the lofty ceiling.

That sly brute had been sandbagging all this time. He’d hidden the true magnitude of his power. Did Death even know?

When his horns speared the sunlamps above, raining glass down, I knew I couldn’t hold him.

Ogen flailed against his bonds. They disintegrated, pain scoring me. The giant had freed himself.

Hunching over, he stomped closer to me. I backed away from him, throwing vines between us.

My back met the wall. Nowhere to run.

He snatched at me, seizing me in one of his enormous hands. “Pretty meat!” He inched me closer to his face.

I slashed at him with my claws, but he didn’t seem to feel them.

His slitted pupils expanded as he sniffed me, his foul breath hitting my face. “DEAD meat.” He slammed me to the ground, wrenching a scream from my lungs.

He began strangling me as he had once before. Only this time he took my neck between his thumb and forefinger, savoring, making it last.

The pressure was excruciating. Did he mean to pop my head off, like a doll’s?

Did this doll no longer have teeth?

As consciousness wavered, I thought I heard Aric bellowing for me to hold on. Delirious. I’d never see him again, would never get a chance to convince him how different I was. Would he pass another seven centuries of misery?

Ogen’s drool pinged my cheek. This would be my last sight?

Almost a relief when my lids slid shut and scenes flashed through my mind. I beheld Jack’s face as he’d gazed down at me in that suspended moment of time. So perfectly, I saw him. Heard him. I am home, Evangeline. Finally found the place I’m supposed to be. With my death, would Matthew tell him to stop hunting, to stop searching?

Dimly I perceived a yell. Aric? I managed to crack open my eyes in time to see him speeding into view. Behind his helmet grille, a menacing light burned. I never thought I’d be so happy to see Death charging toward me with both swords drawn.

“You disobey me, Devil? I warned you never to hurt her again.” He had?

Ogen leapt up, releasing me. “Not my boss. I sit upon Lucifer’s knee!”

I sucked in breaths, struggling to rise. This wasn’t over. The battle still called.

When Ogen barreled toward him, Aric feinted right, then struck with his left sword. Ambidextrous. The blade cut deep into the Devil’s flank.

Ogen howled with fury, shattering more lamps. Beating the ground, he charged once more.

Aric leapt over a table, but Ogen caught him with a long sweep of his giant arm, flinging him into the wall not far from Lark. His head snapped against it so hard his helmet was knocked off.

“Aric, no!” I choked out. I threw another wave of vines at the Devil. Connected to so many plants and soaking up the light, I was swiftly regenerating. But even at full power, I could only buy Aric so much time.

Somehow he’d kept hold of his swords. Somehow he rose to a crouch. He gave a shake of his head, as if to clear his vision. “Ah, Ogen, all brawn and no brains. No skill—no style. Don’t you know that quality will always win over quantity?”

Ogen roared so loud it pained my ears. He charged once more.

At the last instant, Aric rolled out of the way, dodging an anvil fist, driving one sword up into the Devil’s guts. Rancid goo oozed.

“B-boss?” Ogen whimpered. He began to shrink as if he’d been deflated.

Twisting that sword, Aric planted his second one.

Ogen’s body dwindled until he was not much taller than Aric. Only then did Death remove his swords—to scissor them at Ogen’s neck.

As Ogen tottered dumbly on cloven feet, Aric said, “Until next time, Devil.” Slice.

The Devil Card was no more. . . .

With an exhausted rise and fall of his shoulders, Aric stared down at the still-shrinking body of his onetime ally.

The battle was done.

Aric’s back was to me. No more cuff on my arm. No helmet for him, leaving his neck vulnerable. An impulse seized me.

The heat of battle? More than.

“I heard you calling for me, Empress,” he said as he began turning toward me—

I’d already bounded up and struck, planting five claws into Death’s neck.