Pride X Familiar ReVamp (Pride X ReVamp Book 1) (38 page)

I had no doubt he was simply biding for time to allow Celica Desanto to reach whatever was inside the chamber. He was keeping me away from Celica…and from Caelum.

Gathering my strength, I shifted the grip on my twin bladed lance, and charged at him once more.

The twin bardiches he wielded in each hand moved in perfect harmony, swirling almost like rotor blades as he parried my strikes. Even though their handles were too long for an axe, and too short for a proper Renaissance era bardiche, I chose to think of them as such because they possessed the curved cleaver blade.

To that I couldn’t consider my weapon as strictly a lance because it was more of a highly mobile, twin bladed spear.

I broke the attack, went for a feint, and then charged again. As on each previous occasion, he parried far too easily, though oddly he allowed me to push him back.

I chose not to pause, not to catch my breath, and to continued driving him down and out of the tunnel.

I moved in fiercely, stabbing with the lance a handful of times, before sweeping it down and across his feet. It was the one weakness he had – protecting his lower body. But he slammed one bardiche into the ground, breaking my sweep, then swung the other massive bardiche at my head.

Within a heartbeat I’d ducked under it, weaving sharply aside while simultaneously freeing my lance’s blade from the bardiche pitched into the permacrete.

And then we had skipped back, both of us putting some distance between us.

What was this—the thirtieth time?

For a while we’d been fighting each other without support from the effect-fields our Fragments could manifest. At first we’d struck at each other with the power of our Fragments, but now it was weapon on weapon, alloy on alloy. That wasn’t to say I wasn’t looking out for a piercer-field, but it felt like both of us had come to a consensus that we would fight each other without their aid.

Drake smiled at me, and anger tingled within me.

But I allowed it to do no more than that.

Anymore, and the distraction would prove fatal.

I wasn’t facing just any Familiar. I was facing the man that trained me.

The man who trained my brother and I.

He preempted my next attack, and I found myself defending furiously. My body responded automatically, moving from one defensive form to the next, while my mind kept careful track of each move he and I made.

Then by some happenstance, an opening appeared. It last for only a second, but overclocked as I was, I recognized it for what it was…and I chose to avoid it.

Nice move, but not nice enough.

It would take more than that to lure me in.

His eyes widened just a fraction, and the annoying smile on his lips grew just a tad wider.

Before that smile could grow any wider, I succeeded in parrying one bardiche then slid the lance’s blade under his right arm.

Before that smile could fade in surprise, the lance’s blade sliced a fine line through his skinsuit, all the way to his shoulder.

I could have howled a curse in disappointment.

The cut wasn’t deep enough, and I had left myself open to his counter.

This time I had to resort to a barrier-field, or else I would have been hewn in two across my abdomen.

I blocked one bardiche with the barrier-field, but the second weapon knocked me back with a barrier of its own.

I spun round and managed to get some room between us, all the while expecting him to follow me in. However, Drake stood a handful of meters away with a disappointed look on his face.

He spoke for the first time since we encountered each other in the tunnel.

“All these years, and you’ve improved so little.”

Actually, if I hadn’t improved I’d be dead three or four times by now. Besides, I didn’t get to be an instructor for the Sanctum’s Artemis and Paladin ranks by being second rate. However, even if I counted myself first rate, Drake was in a league of his own.

He breathed a heavy sigh of disillusionment. “I expected so much more from you. Even your younger brother has surpassed you.”

Is that a fact? Hard to believe actually, since I was so much better than him.

“Pity it wasn’t you that faced him,” Drake intoned morosely. “That would have been a spectacle to witness.”

“Is that what fuels your boat these days? Watching siblings fight? You’re pathetic.”

He spun the bardiches, then charged at me.

I had to block in a hurry as the weapons flashed before my eyes, catching the light of the tunnel as they struck my lance. Their weight and disposition meant every strike I blocked landed heavily against the lance’s blades, and thus heavily against my arms. If my Fragment had been a normal weapon it might have been bent and misshapen by now.

Drake continued his attack.

The fact he used two bardiches mitigated whatever advantage my lance had in terms of mobility and reach. That said, while his bardiches were shorter than the norm and lacked range, that hadn’t stopped him from almost cleaving me in half a number of times.

He swung the weapons like a spinning saw, and I succeeded in blocking them both with the lance that automatically shortened its length such that its blades met those of the bardiches. Thus engaged we pushed against each other, though I was mindful of any attempt by Drake to hook the bardiches under the lance and pull it out of my grip.

He grinned at me with far too much ease. “What happened to your Artifact? Where’s your Grand Chevalier?”

I tightened my abdominals as I forced out a reply. “What did you expect after Celica was tried for treason?” The skinsuit bulged a little as I tried pushing Drake back, and my breathing grew even more labored. “The Lanfears…stripped me of it…to appease…the Sanctum.”

He snorted contemptuously before overwhelming me with a shove that sent me flying back several feet. “Is that all they robbed you of?”

I landed well enough and then aimed the lance at him, but Drake held his ground and didn’t approach. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He snorted again while casually hefting the bardiches. “Such a pity. So now you’re playing with that toy? What is it anyway?”

I watched him carefully, knowing he wasn’t lowering his guard. It was just a ruse. “The Lanfears have it classified as a lance, but having two bladed ends should disqualify it.”

“So you’re back to just a Fragment. Does it even have a Core?”

“Its Core is locked down, so I’m starting from scratch with this one.” I cut the air in a smooth circle with the tip of my lance. “And if you must know this is just part of my Cuirassier’s armory.”

Drake made a disgusted expression. “A Cuirassier with a lance? Gah. Abomination.”

I studied him for a moment, noting how lightly he appeared to grip the bardiches, and was clear he had never taken me seriously. “Why?”

His expression clouded a fraction. “Why what?”

“Why haven’t you summoned your Artifact? Why face me with only the bardiches and a skinsuit?”

“Isn’t it obvious? If I did so you’d be dead in an instant.”

I nodded faintly. “I’m aware of that. So why haven’t you summoned it?”

He dipped his chin at me. “I’m not the one who wants your head.”

I took a deep, guarded breath. “Rylan….”

“Blood is thicker than wine. Hate more so when between siblings.”

“I don’t hate, Rylan. I never have.”

Drake peered at me through narrowed eyes. “Now tell me, if you’re not with the Sanctum, who holds your leash?”

I swallowed guardedly at him changing the subject. “Take a guess.”

Drake’s lips drew back into a sneer. “Fabien Imreh Lanfear….”

I lowered my stance, and readied myself to leap at him.

Abruptly Drake cocked his head a fraction, then quickly brightened. “Ah, finally! Time to bid you farewell.”

I tensed for the attack but it never came.

Instead, he waved both bardiches before him, and I sensed a sudden piercer-field strike the barrier my bladed lance hastily threw up. A heartbeat later and I realized his target was the tunnel we were standing inside.

The bardiche piercer-fields tore the curved ceiling and walls, caving it in on me. I used my Fragment’s barrier-fields to ward off the worst of it, while retreating at a run a dozen meters deeper into the tunnel. Unfortunately, that put the cave-in between Drake and I. As the rubble fell, I glimpsed him running away in the opposite direction.

I waited for the debris to settle, then contacted Severin on the communication line. I was in luck. The tunnel transceiver relays were still working. They picked up my comm signal and relayed it to him.

I told him what happened on my end.

Severin said, “It can’t be helped. It was a diversion after all.”

“You should have sent me to face Celica.”

“And you’d be dead right now.”

I swallowed, tasting the powder in the air and grimaced. “What about Desanto? How did he do?”

The silence on the line made my stomach clench.

“Severin…what happened?”

I heard him swallow. “He’s down, Deneve. Celica took him down.”

Her own brother? She took down her
own
brother?

For a moment that stretched into many seconds, I stood still, and considered the horrid possibility that this wasn’t the Celica Desanto I remembered.

I declared tautly, “I’m on my way.”

Drake was right. If adhering to history, a lance didn’t belong with a Cuirassier Artifact. But whomever had designed the Artifacts didn’t seem to care.

Sending a thought to the Core, I summoned the Cuirassier’s Sarcophagus out of its Pocket Space. Sensing it emerging within the thick black mist, I held the lance to it at the end of my outstretched arm. It was plucked from my hand by an invisible effect-field, and replaced by two long barreled weapons that resembled ancient wheellock pistols.

However, these pistols were anything but medieval.

The Sarcophagus retreated into Pocket Space, and the black mist thinned quickly.

I aimed one pistol at the rubble ahead of me and triggered a blast of blue-white light that turned the permacrete debris into a cloud of yellow-brown powder. Aiming and firing the other pistol, a second blast cleared away more of the cave-in that lay before me, and once I could see through the mist of pulverized rubble, I sprinted through the opening.

“Severin, send me the map to his location.”

“Steiner is with him. I sent her to back him up but she didn’t arrive in time.”

The map flashed up on the inside of my visor.

Then I heard a dull rumble run down the length of the tunnel as I neared the exit. “Severin, what’s going on out there?”

For a long while there was only silence. Then I heard Severin breathe out an oath and a curse that was out of the ordinary for him.

“It’s a Warlord, Deneve. The Artifact Celica Desanto came for is a
Warlord
.”

I knew what a Warlord was and I knew what it could do.

I had seen one in action before, and I owed my life to that Warlord’s pilot.

But a Warlord could level the Academy, and the habitat. Given enough time, it could destroy Island Three.

I picked up my pace, running as fast as my skinsuit clad legs could carry me.

I stopped at the first access shaft leading up and out of the tunnel. I climbed the ladder three rungs at a time. I needed both hands so I sent the bladed lance back into Pocket Space. But when I emerged into the maintenance hut at the top of the shaft, I manifested the weapon once more.

Rumble after rumble made the air and ground tremble.

I recognized them for the explosions they were.

Fearing only ruins would greet me, I pushed open the hut’s door, and stepped anxiously into the park outside.

I saw a flash of crimson light in the distance, above the tree line.

The Academy lay in that direction.

I saw tracers pierce the air, lighting up the sky as they shot up from the ground.

Enforcers must have entered the Academy grounds with armored vehicles.

I heard sirens and saw the flashing lights of emergency vehicles parked on the streets all around me. They weren’t there when I first entered the maintenance hut.

Another flash of light, this time high above the Academy.

A humanoid shape darted about above Galatea.

As I watched, it came to a slow hover, and slender beams of light emanated from the tips of the skirt of swords it wore. Those beams of light touched the Academy grounds, and new rumbles filled the air as smoke billowed up towards the artificial cloudy sky that shimmered like a mirage.

My visor enhanced what I could see, centering on the Warlord and enlarging the image.

My heart sank as I recognized it.

The Black Camellia.

I had seen it almost two years ago when I participated in the mission to recover some of the Fragments Crimson Crescent had stolen during the super freighter explosion.