In the Shadow of Lightning

60

Kizzie kept screaming the word “Run!” She wasn’t sure if it was for Montego’s benefit or to convince herself to act, rather than dwell on the horror she’d just witnessed, but she made good on her own advice by coaxing every bit of strengthening sorcery from her forgeglass just to keep herself moving. They had to escape this massive labyrinth of a building, to get out into the open, to find safety somewhere.

Montego’s heavy footsteps followed her, and behind him the screaming of that eldritch creature as it thundered after them. She caught a glimpse of it as she rounded a corner, massive limbs tearing off the rest of its human skin as it ran to reveal rippling, constrictor-like bluish-gray sinew. Behind the creature, like a swarm of rats following in its footsteps, were dozens of acolytes armed with knives and cudgels. A cacophony of shouts echoed from the depths of the building; an alarm passing along to Aristanes’s followers. Every turn brought more, sprinting toward them from down long hallways, emerging from doors, appearing on balconies as Kizzie desperately tried to find an exit. Windows were barred, doors locked.

“Where the piss did we come in?” she shouted over her shoulder to Montego.

The cudgelist didn’t respond. His heavy breathing was almost as loud as the shouting, ripping ragged from his lungs. She thought she recognized a hallway and took a quick turn, giving her another glimpse of the creature behind her. It had stripped away most of the human skin by now and was gaining on them, almost eight feet tall and wider than Montego, a massive, toothy grin stretching across its tentacled face.

She realized too late that she’d made a mistake, and that the hall she’d thought she recognized was only leading them deeper into the mansion. Glimpsing a heavy door that might lead somewhere, she threw herself at it, snaking inside and holding it open long enough for Montego to follow her before heaving it shut behind them. Both she and Montego threw their weight against the door. A massive thump impacted on the other side, hard enough that she thought the whole doorframe might come apart. By some miracle it held, and she threw the bolt and backed away.

“Uh, Kizzie,” Montego huffed.

She turned to find him looking around the room, her dismay growing as she realized that this didn’t lead anywhere. It was an office, a little smaller than Aristanes’s, with heavy bars on the narrow windows, a few empty, broken bookshelves, and a dusty, rotting desk.

“Oh no,” she whispered. She could barely think through her terror, fumbling in her pocket for skyglass before realizing she’d already put it on. There was another heavy thump on the door, rattling the entire room, causing plaster dust to fall from the ceiling. The creature screamed in something that vaguely resembled a language. “What do we do what do we do what do we do?” she found herself repeating like it might possibly help them. She turned to Montego, her hands trembling. “I’m sorry, Baby. I’m so sorry. This isn’t how I meant it to…” She trailed off. Something about Montego startled her out of her panic.

His face was calm, his eyes thoughtful. Montego examined the room clinically. “You’re small enough to slip through the bars here if we break the glass. You can go for help, maybe drive that thing out into broad daylight.”

“Wha … what? I’m not leaving you here alone.” She didn’t think she could grow more terrified, yet the thought of abandoning Montego did just that.

“Suit yourself,” Montego replied. He removed his jacket in a graceful, practiced move. His tunic followed, and he folded them both and set them on the floor. He was left in a long pair of pants. He rotated at the waist, then bent and touched his toes.

His absolute stoicism went miles to calm her. “What the piss are you doing?” she asked, flinching as another thump caused more plaster to fall.

“I’m stretching.”

“Why?”

“Always stretch before a fight.”

“Are you insane?” she demanded.

Montego took his cane in one hand and expertly unscrewed the silver bear head, placing it with his shirt and tunic then drawing out something that looked like a croquet ball from his pants pocket. He slotted the end of the cane against it, twisted both, and as quick as that was holding a cudgel. The doorframe began to splinter. It would not hold more than a few more moments against the onslaught.

“Baby,” she whispered. She was absolutely certain she would die now, and was not taking that new realization well. “You can’t fight that thing. You didn’t see what it did to the watchhouse.”

“If you won’t leave without me,” Montego said calmly, “then I want you to keep those acolytes off my back. This will take all of my attention.”

Montego squared himself toward the door, taking a few experimental swings with his cudgel. “I am the greatest killer in the world,” he declared, his voice rising as he spoke, his eyes taking on a terrifying fire. “I will not concede that title to a freak from an adventure novel. I am Baby Montego!” He was roaring at the door now, shoulders thrown back, chest thrust out. “You hear that, Tall Man? I am Montego, and I will end you!”

The door erupted inward at the last word, the eldritch being having to duck to lunge through the opening, massive taloned fingers reaching out toward Montego’s throat with a speed that Kizzie could barely follow. Even faster still, Montego swung his cudgel, bringing it down across the hand like a teacher might use a ruler to reprimand a student. The creature hissed, pulling back in pain. It unhinged its jaw and let out a scream that rattled Kizzie’s bones.

Montego charged. He hit the thing full in the chest with one shoulder, sending them both out of the room and into the hallway, where his bulk smashed the Tall Man against the opposite wall. The impact barely seemed to faze the Tall Man, and it snatched Montego by one arm and hurled him down the hallway. Kizzie suddenly found herself feeling very small and alone, staring through the destroyed door at the horrific beast. It righted itself, writhing inhumanly to get its feet back under it. It stared hungrily at Kizzie, strands of frothing spittle dripping from the corners of its mouth.

Montego reappeared and smashed his cudgel across its face with force that would have turned a man’s head into paste. His arm was a blur, face crimson with rage, punctuating every word with a blow that drove the thing back to the ground. “Do! Not! Turn! Away! From! Me! When! We! Fight!” The Tall Man’s massive arm darted out, grabbing Montego by the wrist to stop the final blow. Montego balled his left fist and slammed it into the thing’s jaw, then grabbed it by the other arm. The two grappled and strained, the creature’s claws biting into Montego’s arms until blood ran down them. It began to push Montego back down the hall.

The two left Kizzie’s vision, framed as it was by the destroyed doorway, and were almost immediately replaced by a dozen armed acolytes, stalking after, weapons raised, clearly looking for an opening in which to help their monstrous ally. The sight of them seemed to snap Kizzie out of herself, mind clearing of that terrible fog. She was not Montego. She could not hope to fight something like the Tall Man, but she was glassdamned Kizzie Vorcien.

Human acolytes were not her match.

She thrust her hand into her pocket, finding the piece of high-resonance forgeglass within and threading it through a piercing in her right ear in one quick move. The sorcery pounded through her in an instant, more powerful than anything she’d ever felt, coursing in her veins in a way that made her muscles want to explode. She held her sword in one hand, drew a stiletto with the other, and hurled herself out the door, hitting the acolytes from the side.

Hers was not a brute-force attack like Montego’s. She ducked and swerved, sword and knife darting, reversing direction a dozen times in as many steps, dancing through the crowd. Thrust, move, slice, thrust, roll, leap. Her own speed astonished her, so much so that the witglass in her braided earrings could barely keep her mind equal to the tasks her body was performing. In moments she was on the other side of the hall, stumbling, catching herself against the wall and staring down at the corpses now littering the floor.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “This stuff is incredible.” She spun on the ball of her foot, looking for Montego, only to see him tossed through a wall. He reappeared a moment later, rebounding through the hole he’d just made with his body, cudgel swinging at a blinding speed as he swept out the Tall Man’s legs and smashed its shoulder. The Tall Man forced him back with its talons, and the two wrestled each other around the corner of the next hall.

Kizzie looked down at the gore dripping from her blades. She had mere minutes to wear the high-resonance forgeglass before it began to kill her. The odds were overwhelming, too many acolytes racing down the hall toward her. Montego was already torn up bloody by the Tall Man’s claws. They were going to die here, she was certain of it.

But they were going to die well.