Warbound: Book Three of the Grimnoir Chronicles (27 page)

Read Warbound: Book Three of the Grimnoir Chronicles Online

Authors: Larry Correia

Tags: #Urban, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Historical, #General, #Paranormal

“Fourteen,” Faye answered without hesitation.

“He’s doing it right now, I bet.” Zachary chuckled, but it was a horrible sound, what with the air blowing out the holes in his cheeks.

Faye went to the nearest one of her
teacher
. Jacques looked incredibly weary in that one. “What’s he doing with that vial?”

“Deciding on whether to poison you or not, I think . . .”

Faye was offended, but it made her more sad than angry.

“Don’t hold it against him. That much responsibility on one man is a hell of a thing. It’s probably my fault, you know, I warned the others about you. I showed them . . . I told them there’d be another Spellbound coming. He’d devoted years of his life hunting the last one, lost his girlfriend to Sivaram, even. What’d you expect him to do?”

“If I die, will there be another one after me?”

“I don’t think you realize it yet, sister. Now that we’ve been found, if you die, there’s
nothing
after you. The Power is a funny thing. It’s smarter than they think. It’s picked you, Faye. It picked you for a reason. With Sivaram it saw a way out, a way to break a cycle. It’s been to a lot of worlds and bonded with a lot of intelligences, but humans are the first one that ever surprised it. We’ve got something the ones before us didn’t have:
Creativity.
It didn’t realize humans were that capable, and for the first time in a million years it got its hopes up. It tried, only Sivaram wasn’t good enough, so it picked you next. It’s directed you this whole time, guided you, put you in the path of the others it’s picked. I draw them too.” He gestured at the walls. “All of us have a job to do, but you’re the only one that can put it all together. You are the only way the Power sees to beat the Enemy once and for all.”

“The Enemy is real. I knew it.” She glanced around. “How come there ain’t no pictures of it? You’ve got its little helpers and the people it’s twisted up and skinned, but no pictures of the big Enemy.”

“That’s the bad part about my Power being stronger now. I never saw it before. I couldn’t see things without bodies back then. Now? I’ve tried to draw it. Take your pen, jab it through the paper, into the table even, hard as you can, and then start making a circle. You’ve got to cut it deep. You shred the paper. And all you get is ink bleeding out into a bigger and bigger circle. When I try to see it, I have to push so hard that blood starts seeping through my gloves. If I keep going, I start to bleed inside my head and then it comes out my eyes. The blood and the ink, that’s the only way to draw the thing that’s coming.”

Blood and ink . . .
She looked at one of the pictures of Mr. Sullivan, his shirt ripped open and the self-inflicted scars on his chest burning as he ripped an Iron Guard in half. “So the Power’s picked me to fight the Enemy? I know what happens if we lose, Power runs off, and we end up like the Summoned, but what happens if we win?”

Zachary tilted his scabrous head to the side. “That’s entirely up to you. It all depends on how far you’re willing to go and what you’re willing to sacrifice.”

Faye knelt down and reached for another crumpled sheet of paper.

“Don’t,” the zombie warned. “Not that one.”

Faye opened it up anyway. She stated at the picture for a long time. It was the worst thing
ever
. “I’d never do that. I’d never become that.”

“Then don’t. I know you think you wouldn’t now, but you could. I can see the possibilities, and you can feel the truth. You’ve tasted what it’s like. You’ve taken someone else’s magic from them before and made it your own. You get strong as you’ll need to be, and it’ll change you.” Zachary turned and began walking away. “These are all for you, Faye. It wanted you to have them, to know who can help you, and who wants to hurt you. Learn them. Learn where you came from, and what might have been, and what might still be. I know it won’t take you long. Nothing takes you long.”

“Where are you going?”

“This was what the Power asked from me. I’m done. Now it’s time to make the gnawing stop. There’s a furnace downstairs. I’ve already stocked it full of coal. I plan to light it, then climb inside and burn until there’s nothing left of this damned body for my soul to cling to. See you.”

Faye looked down at the horrific picture in her hands.
I will not become the devil.
“Thank you, Zachary.”

“Good luck, Faye.”

Art to come

Faye with zombies

Chapter 11

They say I’m the best swindler there’s ever been, huh? Then what am I in here for? Most say the best cons are Yaps, Traps, Mouths, whatever you want to call ‘em, ‘cause they can change how the mark thinks. Then the Readers, Head Cases, they’re next, ‘cause they can tell you what the mark really thinks. Honest truth? They ain’t all that. Magic makes it too easy, makes a con soft. They got no imagination . . . Fine. You got me. I am the best . . . But you know what? Don’t take a wizard to clean a mark. You know the real secret to running a confidence scam? Tell them what they want to hear. There’s a sucker born every minute.

—Joseph “Hungry Joe” Lewis,

Interview at Sing Sing State Prison
,
1888

UBF
Traveler

The Japanese airships
were right above them. Harsh rain pounded against the hull with a rhythmic drumming noise. Lightning flashed, seemingly just beyond the glass of the cockpit. It was blinding, yet the afterimage made it so that Sullivan could see the black shapes of the Imperium warships searching for them even with his eyes closed.

They were running completely dark, but that wouldn’t help if the lightning reflected off of the
Traveler’s
hull. “Think they spotted us?” Sullivan asked.

“If they did, we’ll know when the first shells hit,” Captain Southunder replied, perfectly calm. This wasn’t the first time the old pirate had run a blockade. “We’re practically swimming in Impy bastards.” He looked out over his bridge crew, obviously thinking hard about what to do next, stuck between several choices, all with bad possible outcomes, but sometimes a pirate just had to run on instinct and make a call. “Barns, take us down a thousand feet, nice and slow.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Barns gently pulled a brass lever on his console.

The
Traveler
shifted violently to the right. Most of the crew had to grab onto something to keep from losing their footing. Sullivan just planted his feet and imagined that he was anchored to the deck until the tremors slowed. After several seconds of ominous creaking, the
Traveler
seemed to steady a bit, and the crew of the crowded bridge all got back to work, fiddling with gizmos that Sullivan frankly did not understand in the least. “That was nice and slow?”

Barns grinned. “We’re getting sideswiped with sixty-mile-an-hour gusts. Anything that doesn’t corkscrew us into the ocean is nice.”

“You asked for rough air, Mr. Sullivan. I’m happy to provide,” Captain Southunder said.

“All I asked was for you to get us to Shanghai unseen.”

“Same thing. As sleek as this girl is, anything that’s beating us this badly has got to be hell on those Imperial slabs. Shanghai’s position on the coast means that this area is crawling with ships. Of all the Free Cities, it’s the one I dread visiting the most. I drained my Power to unleash this unseasonable beast in the hope that the Imperium would have the sense to dock their fleet. However, it appears they don’t have the sense God gave a duck. I really didn’t expect to see any patrols this far out.”

“Bad timing, or do they suspect what we’re up to?”

“If they do, then we’ll know when the entire Jap navy is waiting in Shanghai to greet us.” Southunder turned to the teleradar operator. “Mr. Black?”

The pirate’s eyes were glued to a picture tube. “They haven’t changed course.” It all just looked like green haze and glowing dots to Sullivan, but the UBF invention seemed to be working, and whatever it was showing, it was making the operator happy. “Good thing too. From the return I’m getting, one of those airships is a huge multihull. From the size, maybe a
Kaga
class.”

“Bearing?”

“Seven miles ahead, two thousand feet above us. Bearing north-north-east.”

Southunder rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How we managed to get along without that marvelous device all these years, I’ll never know. Bless those UBF Cogs and their pointy heads. Bouncing radio waves off of solid objects to see how far away they are . . . It’s like magic.”

“Says the man who makes hurricanes with his mind,” Barns said as he fought the controls. “That UBF doohickey is just fancy science.”

“Science which I, for one, am happy the Imperium hasn’t invented yet, or our jobs would be far more difficult.”

“The day the Imperium gets one of these radar thingys is the day I give up privateering to do something safer,” Barns muttered, glancing at Sullivan. “Like sword swallowing or lion taming.”

“Lucky guy like you?” Lance Talon chuckled. The knight had come up to the bridge to watch, fascinated by the show. “That wouldn’t even be a challenge. I’ve done lion taming. It’s overrated.”

Barns’ oddball Power was somehow related to altering probability and coming out with favorable results. “You’re using your magic right now I hope?

“Don’t fret, Sullivan. This part is always a little tense, but then afterwards, we have a drink and a laugh at the Imperium’s expense.” The look of intense concentration on the young man’s face suggested he was, in fact, using his Power. “Good times.”

“Shit. I’m getting a better side view,” the teleradar operator said. “That’s definitely a
Kaga
.”

Everybody on the bridge died a little inside. That was the most advanced airship in the Imperium’s arsenal. It had more conventional firepower than a Great War battleship, several hundred extra pairs of eyes on the lookout, armor that the
Traveler
wouldn’t even be able to dent, and worst of all, a Peace Ray, which could vaporize anything in its line of sight. “If that thing sees us, there ain’t no running.” Sullivan said.

Barns grinned. “Like I said, good times.”

Southunder was chewing on one knuckle. “Any signs of surface ships, Mr. Black?”

“None yet, Captain. Hard to tell. Surface is choppy as hell.”

“Stay on this heading and descend to five hundred feet, Barns.”

“Gonna be rough winds that close to the deck,” Barns said, but it was more of a warning than an argument. The pilot had already started to comply

“Not as choppy as being obliterated by a Peace Ray. We’re burning a lot of magic right now. I’d hate to pass too close if they’ve got a tuned-up Finder aboar—”

CRACK! BOOM!

That time Sullivan did flinch, but it was more from the flash and electrical snap than any movement of their vessel. The actual airship had barely moved, but all of the tubes and lights on the bridge had either gone black or were flickering unsteadily.

“Peace Ray!” someone shouted.

Idiot.
If it had been a Peace Ray, they’d already be ashes.

“Lightning strike,” Southunder stated. He turned around in his captain’s chair and looked to his Torch. “Ori! Status?”

Lady Origami was so quiet and tended to always position herself so far out of sight that it was easy to forget she was even around. The Torch placed one diminutive hand on a bulkhead and closed her eyes. Torches had to have some sort of mental view of their surroundings relating to fire, much as a well-practiced Heavy did with gravity, or like Faye had with that weird
head map
she’d gone on about. Always curious when it came to magic, Sullivan decided that he’d have to interview Lady Origami for his notes, assuming they didn’t blow up in the next few seconds at least. “I stopped some sparks. Bags clear and happy.”

The bridge crew all quit holding their breath. Sullivan realized that all of the hair on his body was standing on end.

“So we’re not going to explode. Yet.” Southunder turned to the teleradar operator. “Did that strike illuminate us? Are any of the Imperium altering course?”

“Teleradar is out,” Black answered. “I’m blind.” He slid out of his chair and opened a panel on the side of the machine. Smoke came wafting out. The smell of burnt wiring hit everyone’s nostrils. “Shit.”

Without that UBF toy, they could blunder right into an Imperium ship. “One of my knights, Schirmer, is a Fixer,” Sullivan said.

“Fetch him,” Southunder ordered. “And the UBF engineer too.”

One of the crew picked up a mouthpiece and began turning the charge handle. “Damn it. Horn’s fried.”

“I’ll get them.” Sullivan turned to leave. He was just a useless spectator up here anyway.

“Good.” Southunder’s attention was on keeping them in one piece. “There’s a Crackler among your knights. Make sure he’s awake and have him point the lightning elsewhere.”

Wish I would have thought of that before,
Sullivan thought as he left the bridge.

“And you’ve got a Torch. Have him be ready to help Ori in case things get out of hand.” Southunder called after him.

“Captain!” Lady Origami sounded very indignant at the idea of her actually needing help.

The
Traveler
was being hammered by the wind. Walking down the corridors was difficult, even for somebody who was close personal friends with the laws of gravity. Barns sure hadn’t been lying about it being rough closer to the ocean, and the whole ship was getting a kick in the pants.

“Just the man I’ve been looking for.”

Sullivan turned to see Dr. Wells. The alienist had walked right up behind him without even making a sound. The fellow had to be near as quiet as Heinrich to pull that off, either that or Sullivan’s ears were still ringing from the lightning strike. He had already sent Schirmer and the UBF Fixer up top, and alerted Cracklers to keep them from getting blasted again, so he figured he had a minute before he went back to being anxious and useless on the bridge. “What is it, Doc?”

“Could you spare a minute?”

“That depends. You gonna complain some more about your living conditions?”

“It’s not the Ritz, but it is a bit better than the hole at Rockville. Not by much. But no, I’ve got something for you.” Wells always talked too loud. Like he thought he was on stage or something. He held up a stack of papers. “This is a profile of our target. I’ve taken everything your Grimnoir spies had about him, plus I interviewed Toru rather extensively about this Master Saito. It is not ideal using secondhand and biased observations, but I believe this will help deal with our imposter Chairman.”

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