The Last Protector (35 page)

The Captain twisted the knife, trying to get it properly under Scrornuck's skin. She succeeded in enlarging the cut and spilling some blood, but the tattoo remained resolutely attached. “Admit it, bitch,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “you don't know what you're doing, do you?"

"Shut up!” Sweat trickled down her forehead as she twisted the knife another way, making the cut bigger and bloodier.

At last he heard, at the very edge of his perception, feet crunching on gravel, followed by a few soft words and a sudden
thud,
as if somebody had just been cold-cocked outside the door. A moment later, he heard the door rattle softly as if someone were trying to open it.

"Fire!"
The word, spoken firmly outside the building, was loud enough to make a few soldiers turn their heads. Then, with a
boom
that popped Scrornuck's ears and shattered video screens all around the room, the door blew in. Nalia stepped through the cloud of smoke, sword drawn.

The Captain's jaw dropped, for strapped to Nalia's small day-pack were Scrornuck's boots. “Seize her!” she bellowed. “She has the offering!” As the soldiers quickly drew their weapons and formed a ragged semicircle around Nalia, the Captain shoved the ceremonial knife into a sheath on her belt and said softly, “I'll deal with you later, demon."

Scrornuck thrashed and squirmed, but the cable-ties held his wrists and ankles securely to the chair. He could only watch as Nalia engaged the soldiers, keeping her back to the wall as she moved away from the door. Where the hell is Jape, he wondered, angry that the Ranger would send Nalia to face the Captain's dozen soldiers by herself.

And yet, she was more than holding her own, inflicting little wounds almost at will, always being somewhere else when the soldiers attempted to strike. Her opponents fought as if in a fog, getting in each other's way, grunting and cursing. Scrornuck grunted and cursed along with them as he struggled with his bonds.

"Stop squirming, Mister Saughblade!” a calm voice whispered from behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Jape, kneeling behind the chair and using a small multi-purpose tool to cut the cable-ties holding Scrornuck's wrists.

"What the—how'd you get in here?"

"Everybody's watching Nalia,” Jape said softly. “Even you, obviously. I just walked in.” He snipped the bonds securing Scrornuck's ankles.

One of the soldiers finally got through Nalia's defenses, giving her a very small cut on the arm. “Where's Ol’ Red?” Scrornuck said angrily. Jape handed him the weapon. Scrornuck drew himself to full height and shouted, “Hey,
bitch!"
Startled, the Captain turned—and her face went white as the fibersword slashed through a guard, spraying her with blood. “I'm coming for you!” he yelled, striding forward as she backpedaled and blew a shrill whistle to signal retreat. The troops crowded toward the door. “Oh, no, you don't!” he roared, hacking apart two soldiers who made the mistake of pointing their swords in his direction. “You're not getting away this—
oww!"
He felt a stab of pain in his heel. “Sheeyit!” he howled, leaning on a console and pulling an inch-long shard of glass from his bare foot.

Suddenly Nalia screamed. One of the Captain's soldiers, in too much of a hurry to escape the battle, had impaled himself on her sword. Eyes suddenly glazed, she released the sword and the man collapsed to the floor, the blade still through his chest. Oh crap, Scrornuck thought, realizing she'd never even hurt anybody in a duel, she's gonna lose it.

Sensing Nalia's sudden paralysis, the Captain took a step toward her, reaching for the precious boots. Ignoring the pain in his foot, Scrornuck charged, Ol’ Red's blade crackling and snapping. She quickly changed her mind and sprinted out of the building. He pursued her as far as the door, and watched as she followed the last of her soldiers up the hill and disappeared into the woods.

Nalia suddenly wailed, “I killed him!” She burst into tears, crying, “Not me! Not me..."

Pssshht!
She stiffened momentarily, and then relaxed. For a moment her eyes closed and she almost seemed to smile. “I had to do something,” Jape said, slipping the injector back into his cape. “We don't have time for her to come unglued now."

"No, I guess not.” Scrornuck took Nalia's arm and gently walked her out of the building. “What'd you give her?"

"Just a little something to take the edge off her emotions,” Jape said, taking her other arm. “She should be fine in a minute or so.” Indeed, by the time Scrornuck and Jape had walked her to a big, flat rock and helped her to sit, Nalia was coming around. She blinked a couple times, and if she remembered killing the soldier, she didn't mention it.

"How'd we get out here?” she said, looking around. Then, with a somewhat satisfied smile, she added, “They ran like scared rabbits, didn't they?"

With the crisis over, Scrornuck's shivering returned. He sprawled on the flat rock, trying to absorb heat from the dark stone and the sunshine. “Don't get too comfortable,” Jape advised. “Some snake cult's likely to come along and make a sacrifice of you."

"Not funny.” Scrornuck related the Captain's plans for him.

"That's uncivilized!” Nalia shuddered at the idea. “We don't throw people into the fire!"

"Not yet,” Jape said. “But it appears a few are thinking about it."

Scrornuck pressed his back against the rock. “At least I'd be warm."

Jape pulled a silvery pouch from Nalia's pack and kneaded it between his fingers. Soon it was pleasantly warm, then seriously hot. He gestured to Nalia, and they slowly approached Scrornuck, one on either side, Jape keeping the pouch behind his back. He nodded, and suddenly he and Nalia both sat on Scrornuck's arms, pinning him to the rock. Jape tore the corner off the pouch, and Scrornuck got a whiff of its contents. “No!” he shouted, “Not that! I don't do drugs!"

Nalia held her nose as Jape forced the contents of the coffee packet into Scrornuck's mouth, and then they both struggled to hold his mouth shut. “C'mon, just swallow it!” Jape shouted. “It'll warm you up!"

Scrornuck grunted and squirmed with disgust. He
hated
coffee, but outnumbered and weakened, he was unable to spit it out. Jape held Scrornuck's mouth shut and stroked his throat as though he were forcing medicine into a dog. “The sooner you swallow it, the sooner you can wash the taste out of your mouth!"

"Mmrrgghhh!” Scrornuck protested, but in the end there was little he could do besides swallow the vile stuff. As soon as he did, Jape and Nalia both rolled off the rock, laughing.

"Feeling any warmer?” Jape asked.

Scrornuck responded with a torrent of invective, most of it about the role of dogs, snakes and disease-ridden prostitutes in Jape's ancestry. He was actually feeling quite a bit warmer, but there was no way he was going to admit it.

"If you'd stop cussing for a moment..."

Scrornuck spat in Jape's general direction. “If you
ever
try something like that on me again..."

"It was for your own good,” Jape said. “Anyway, now that you're back among the living, let's patch you up."

"It's only a nick,” Scrornuck insisted.

"Yeah, right.” Jape examined the ragged wound on Scrornuck's chest. “This thing's a mess."

"Yeah, I don't think she—
ouch!
—knew what she was doing."

Jape slapped some clear tape over the wound. “It was probably the first time she'd ever tried to skin anything.” He finished the first-aid by pulling the piece of glass from Scrornuck's foot and squirting a little antiseptic into the puncture. “I don't think people go hunting here."

Scrornuck unstrapped his boots from Nalia's pack and slipped them on. His foot still hurt, but he could walk. “Where's my jacket?” he asked, rummaging around inside the pack.

"No room,” Nalia said. “We brought what would fit, and it wouldn't squeeze down enough."

"Yeah,” Scrornuck said aloud, and then muttered under his breath, “shit.” He knew the jacket was far too bulky for her small pack, but he really wanted some armor for his next meeting with the Captain.

"I brought this, though,” Jape said, holding out the Setron. Seeing Scrornuck's puzzled look, he explained, “You seemed really possessive about it, so I didn't want to leave it behind."

Scrornuck took the Setron and gently ran his hands over the fretboard. He had no idea what good a musical instrument would be in a battle with the Captain, but he somehow felt good having it. Then he slung it over his shoulder and went back to searching the pack, coming up with his belt, his sporran and a rolled-up T-shirt. “Hmm,” he said, unrolling the shirt. “I don't think the Captain's going to like this."

Nalia giggled as she saw the design. “Dragon sex positions?"

"It seemed cute when I bought it.” He stuffed the shirt into the pack. “Something tells me I'd better not wear this right now."

She smiled naughtily. “So, which one's your favorite?"

He smiled back, just as naughtily. “All of ‘em."

"All right, you two,” Jape said. “We've got work to do. Let's see what clues we can find."

Nalia turned a little pale. “Do we have to go in there?"

"I'm afraid so. I want to see if the Captain left anything interesting behind. You don't have to look if you don't want to.” He stopped and looked closely into Nalia's eyes. “It's not the blood and guts bothering you, is it?"

She shook her head. “I killed that man,” she said softly.

"He was trying to kill us."

She shook her head, as if trying to shake something out of it. “We don't kill people."

"The Captain does,” Scrornuck said. “She said Lord Draggott taught her and the army to kill. She called it a gift."

"Some gift.” Jape turned to Nalia. “I'm not going to lie to you. I can't promise you won't have to kill somebody else before this is over."

"I know. I just don't think I'll ever get used to it."

"Probably not,” Scrornuck said. “I never have.” Nalia gave him a puzzled look but said nothing.

They stepped into the security office. It was a mess: chairs overturned, screens shattered, broken glass and blood everywhere. Nalia delicately pulled her sword from the body of the man she'd killed, and took a nervous look at the man's face. “He's an off-duty Guard."

"Wouldn't be surprised if they all are,” Jape said, exploring the area around the display screens.

Something shiny fell from the dead man's pocket: a fresh, new gold piece. Nalia quickly picked it up and slipped it into her pocket. Scrornuck watched but said nothing as she then went around the room, surreptitiously taking a shiny new gold piece from each of the victims. He had no problem with this. As far as he was concerned, the dead had no use for money.

"Hel-
lo ... “
Jape pushed aside a severed arm and stooped to pick up a thin box, perhaps six by nine inches and less than an inch thick. Most of its surface was a viewing screen, with a series of buttons around the edge. He tapped a few of the buttons, and words appeared on the screen. “Ah—a
ContRobotics RC53 Field Remote."

"What's that?” Scrornuck asked.

"It's what we've been looking for.” Tapping buttons on the box, he headed for the door. “Let's get out of here."

"About time,” Nalia said. “I'm starting to feel sick."

The three left the office as the first swarm of flies headed in. “Ah, here we are,” Jape said, sitting on a rock and staring at the device's screen. “The log.” Scrornuck and Nalia looked over his shoulder as more words appeared—a series of times and events, ending with
0635: CONTACT LOST.
Jape pushed several more buttons, and the words were replaced by an image of the lake at sunrise, from a viewpoint hundreds of feet in the air. The image shook and shifted, and suddenly they saw in the foreground a glimpse of Scrornuck, hanging from his sword and kicking furiously. The image shook and rolled as Scrornuck dropped from view and trees whizzed by below. Suddenly Scrornuck reappeared, the image was filled with flame as he burst the dragon's gas generator, and the screen went blank.

Jape set the device on the rock. “So UniFlag had remote-controlled dragons,” he said. “And the mysterious Lord Draggott found a controller. Interesting.” He raised an eyebrow toward Scrornuck. “That's a lot of technology. Mister Saughblade, it seems somebody really doesn't like you."

"No shit. The bitch had that bloody machine drag me under the ice..."

Jape shook his head. “I don't think that was the Captain's doing. The machine came to repair the hole you made, found you in the water, and rescued you, just as it would rescue a Guest who'd fallen through the ice."

"Some ‘rescue.’ How'd she know it'd drop me here? For that matter, how'd you know?"

Jape pointed to the red light, still flashing atop the tower behind the building. “We both followed the light. It started flashing about five minutes after you got sucked under, and it was so bright, I figured it had to be a signal.” He pointed up the hill, where a violet light flickered just above the treetops. “And speaking of lights, there's our destination. Let's get going."

"But the Captain...” Nalia began nervously.

"—is probably up there, along with her soldiers, and maybe even her boss,” Scrornuck finished. “Big deal. We've kicked their butts every time we've met them. I'm more worried about that ball. Every time we run into it I get burned to a crisp."

"Don't be a party pooper,” Jape scolded.

"Yeah, right. I don't see your ass getting burned up."

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"Honey, I'm home,” Scrornuck whispered, as he cautiously approached the dark stone tower that stood in a clearing at the island's highest point. The tower rose nearly a hundred feet, its width tapering from forty feet at the base to half that near the top, where it flared into a round deck easily seventy-five feet across. Eight gracefully curved ribs, each capped with a gargoyle of Spafu, supported the deck and its conical roof of tinted glass. Reflecting from the underside of that glass roof, almost washed out by the sun, was a flickering violet-white light.

He glanced back at Jape and Nalia, hidden in the woods outside the clearing. Before entering, he'd carefully circled the tower, looking for signs of soldiers behind its windows or on its upper platform, and seen nothing—the Captain and her soldiers were either gone, or hidden inside.