The elven King spun around, aiming his weapon at the Unseleighe. A levin bolt shot from Zeldan's right hand; Adam reached for the nodes and pulled the trigger.
The weapon spat a beam of red light, which caught the bolt head-on, splitting it in two. The halves caught the walls on either side; the bolt's concussion threw him backward, amid a shower of concrete fragments.
Adam landed on the floor, sliding a good distance on the waxed surface. Zeldan's laugh echoed down the hallway, but it seemed strained, as if he knew the victory was incomplete.
Adam checked his shields, found them intact, but weakening.
Where the hell are the rest? Then he heard a gunshot, which may or may not have been the Glock. They may have problems of their own by now.
He regretted coming down here. They'd had no idea what waited for them, and Zeldan had plenty of time to set traps. It was starting to look like one or more had already been sprung.
Agony ripped through his left arm when he moved. He looked down to find a long, bleeding gash in his biceps. Damn, he muttered, bringing the weapon up despite the pain. Though scratched and dented after the last bolt, the lights on the display remained lit. But Zeldan was no longer in the hallway.
Zeldan, where the hell are you? he thought, getting up. The sight of his own blood, Tuiereann blood, angered him; it reminded him of all the Avalon clan blood that had already been spilled. And you are not going to spill any more!
When he got to his feet, Adam discovered another injury; his right ankle was sprained, possibly worse. He hobbled down the hallway toward Zeldan's last position. Behind a door, someone pounded.
"Spence, is that you?" he shouted.
"We're locked in here," came the muffled reply. "Use your weapon to blast this thing open. Sammi's Glock just dents it."
Adam stepped away from the door, glancing behind him for any surprises there.
"Stand back," Adam said, and pulled the trigger. The beam arced from the mouth of the weapon and carved a narrow gash near the doorknob. He ran the beam across the bolt; something heavy and metal dropped on the other side, and the door swung open.
Spence, Sammi and the rest of the crew charged through. "I sensed Zeldan," she said. "Is he—"
"He was here," Adam said. "This way."
"Your arm," Moira said as she caught up with him. "We need to look at that."
Adam shook his head. "No time. It's not serious," he said, trying not to make the limp too obvious. "He has Daryl down here somewhere."
From the other end of the hall came a distant whimpering. Adam and Sammi exchanged looks.
"That didn't sound like Daryl," Sammi said.
Backs against the wall, they crept up on a doorway. A bar of white light fell on the opposite wall. Shadows passed through the light, a lambent, flickering illumination, not electric in origin. Adam clutched the weapon to his chest.
The whimper came again, louder, nearer.
Adam peered slowly into the room.
Daryl lay on a table, shivering violently, his arms and legs tied down with straps. He seemed to be asleep, or in a coma, and glistened with sweat. Behind him was computer equipment and a series of large crystals, including one the size of a computer monitor, in the center of the floor. The crystals glowed brightly, outshining the flickering bare fluorescents in the ceiling. A light source from within the computer equipment shone with the intensity of ten halogens; from within these, Adam felt a strong, concentrated power. Like a node, but with pain.
Against one wall was a Gate glowing a dull red, similar to the one Adam had used recently to travel to Underhill, but reeking of Unseleighe magic. Adam felt the Gate, which was of a rather inefficient design, pulling vast amounts of energy from the artificial nodes.
It's the stored agony that fuels the Unseleighe's Gate. And Daryl is the source. The crystals drew off tendrils of light, like fog off the surface of a lake, from Daryl and the table he was tied to. A pain collector. And with Daryl in withdrawal, he should be a fine source of pain. Adam shuddered as he tracked his weapon across the room, looking for Zeldan.
Has he already gone through the Gate to Underhill?
In one corner of the room was a large wooden pallet loaded down with more paper packages like the ones he saw upstairs.
Though Adam didn't see him, Zeldan's voice boomed through the room.
"The sky opened up, and Gabriel tore loose with horns of brass. And Armageddon was here. And the black Eagle saw the ruined castle, and all the dead within waited for the might to take the palace."
Zeldan stepped from behind one of the big computer cabinets. Adam brought his weapon around. The Unseleighe held a young elf by the arms, using her as a shield.
"King!" Wenlann screamed out. "They have . . ."
Wenlann? How did . . . we left them alone. No, no no . . . Adam thought, and Zeldan brought her up to head level.
"What's wrong, King? Aren't you going to shoot?"
He hesitated before pulling the trigger. "Zeldan. Haven't you killed enough of us?"
The Unseleighe laughed hollowly. "I didn't think so." He walked over to the table Daryl was tied to and looked down in mock sympathy.
"Do you know what Armageddon is, young King?" Zeldan inquired. Adam didn't reply. "Armageddon is the end of your world. It has just begun."
The Unseleighe was making no sense, though he'd heard the previous few sentences somewhere else. And all the dead within waited for the might to take the palace. I know that . . . but where is it from?
"Ah. I see you've brought friends. Come in, please," Zeldan said. Adam sensed Sammi, Moira, Marbann and Spence behind him, hesitating in the hallway. "Rathand, please come in with our other captive."
Another elf came in from the rear of the computer room. Adam didn't see who they were until they got past the bank of computer equipment; tied and gagged, Petrus looked up in panic.
"These two children will also provide us with a nice source of pain. We will begin by replacing their bindings with steel wire. For starters."
"Damn you," Adam muttered. Behind him, Sammi gasped.
"Damn me?" Zeldan said, leaning on the table with both hands. "You are the one to blame in all this. You ruined our plan, which would have only destroyed human minds. Now I'm afraid you've just pushed me, Tuiereann." He regarded the Gate momentarily. "My Unseleighe helpers have already returned to Underhill. Mort, despite the delight he took in tormenting this poor lad, has also passed through. Reluctantly, I might add. Cruz is just going to have to find reliable help among the pathetic humans."
Daryl groaned loudly, and a wide tendril of light flared, shot into the equipment. Zeldan's expression turned to pure hate. "You've forced me to send my people back to our new home of Avalon. There we will regain our strength and come back and kill you, all of you!"
He's retreating. I can't let him take our people with him!
Zeldan continued, "You've forced me to take hostages, and what kind of an Unseleighe would I be if I didn't take advantage of the situation?"
Adam took a step forward, then brought the weapon up, aiming for Zeldan's chest. Wenlann looked away. "Release them. All of them." Adam said. I know I can hit him. The aim isn't great on this thing, but I might get an easy shot. "Or I'll blow you away."
Zeldan regarded him with amusement. "You have lived with the humans too long, haven't you?" he said, snickering. " 'Blow me away'? What, precisely, does that mean, young King?"
The Unseleighe had dropped Wenlann to waist level. Adam had a clear shot at his head.
I'll show you, Adam thought as he pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
What?! He tried again, with the same results. On the weapon's stock was an liquid crystal display, which read, "Low Battery."
"Awww. It's broken," Zeldan said, stepping from behind the table. "I suppose I'm just going to have to kill this defenseless little elf. Or take you captive and hook you up to my crystals, like Daryl here."
Adam looked up in time to see power shooting from the crystals into Zeldan's hand. The equipment behind him blazed with intense, yellow light, outlining the Unseleighe like the setting sun.
He had only enough time to reinforce his own shields, hoping they would take most of the hit and protect those behind him; when it did hit, he caught a brief glimpse of the computer room, afire with node energy, moments before the levin bolt carried him out of it.
Adam came to sitting against the wall. The bolt had knocked ceiling tiles off, which had settled around him like a nest. The impact had also knocked out the lights; the hallway was dark.
Zeldan spoke to someone in the computer room, perhaps the other elf Adam had seen earlier. Adam looked at his weapon, which he'd somehow hung on to during the blast. Low Battery. Great. He opened up the plate that held the two nine-volt batteries, removed them, and started sifting through the ceiling debris.
Marbann lay a few feet away; his chest moved slowly with his breathing. Alive. Sammi and Moira were also making some attempt to move. Spence was some distance down the hall, not moving at all.
They're injured. But if I don't kill Zeldan now, we're all dead meat!
He found a smoke alarm, then another, on the floor. Several more of the detectors dangled from the partially destroyed ceiling.
The voices within the computer room ceased, and as Adam ripped the batteries out of the smoke detectors and inserted them in his own weapon, he sensed someone standing in the doorway.
It was the other elf. Is he Seleighe? A traitor? Adam did not recall his being at Avalon. Instead of the dark hair of the Unseleighe, he was blond, like an Avalon elf, and had the distinctive Seleighe nose. He just didn't look like one of Zeldan's clan. Outremer, perhaps? What did Zeldan call him—Rathand?
Rathand, the elf, looked directly at Adam, who slowly struggled to his feet.
"No, Zeldan," Rathand said, addressing the Unseleighe in the computer room. "They're still out cold. I hope you didn't kill them."
"And what would it matter if I did?" Zeldan roared. Rathand gave Adam another look, one he did not know how to interpret, then went back into the room.
The "Low Battery" message had gone away; with as much stealth as he could manage, and with the pain he was in after the new set of injuries he didn't have time to assess, Adam crept over to the door once again. Pain shot through his right leg; he bit his tongue to keep from screaming, and tasted blood for his trouble.
We can't let him Gate, Adam thought, glancing over at Marbann, who was still out cold. If Zeldan gets away, we'll have this to look forward to all over again.
Adam closed his eyes for a moment and reached for the nodes. The thin flow he had used before changed somewhat, feeding him a much stronger stream.
Marbann, Adam thought, glancing back at his mentor, who still appeared to be unconscious. The King knew better. He's down, but he's using everything he's got left to bridge more energy to me.
The nodes came into his mental view clearly, cutting through his pain like an anesthetic; the power hummed through his body, healing his injuries, mending his ankle, and knitting the wound in his left biceps, which had reopened during the last impact.
The King sensed a change in the computer room. His manipulation of the node energy had apparently not gone unnoticed.
"Rathand. Rathand? What was that?"
Another presence, tugging at a corner of his mind. Sammi. Bridging as well. The stream of node power widened, and Adam started to wonder if he would be able to handle it all. He felt the power spreading out, between himself, Marbann, Sammi, and now Moira; the images were dim shadows in the hallway, but he knew they were aware, they were helping him draw on the nodes. A vast pool of node energy formed, waiting to be unleashed.
"Rathand, what is going on out here?"
Rathand was apparently elsewhere. Adam raised his weapon as Zeldan's shadow sliced across the doorway.
As the Unseleighe stepped into the hallway, he apparently didn't see Adam standing in the shadows. But the LED lights on the weapon blinked brightly; when these caught the Unseleighe's eye, he didn't react strongly. Instead, Adam felt the Unseleighe reach for more power. . . .
"Not this time," Adam said, pulling the trigger.
The power of the web surged a portion at a time. But it was energy like Adam had never felt before.
The intense beam pierced the Unseleighe's right wrist. Zeldan screamed, and as he pulled his hand away, the motion drew his wrist across the beam, neatly slicing his hand completely off.
"Noooooo!" Zeldan screamed. Adam stepped closer, into the light. The Unseleighe stared at him in disbelief. "I was going to make you a partner, you fool! I would have let you live!"
Adam pulled the trigger again, piercing the Unseleighe's right leg with light. Zeldan screamed as the tight beam cauterized its way through his flesh.
"That was for my mother," Adam said. Firing again, he carved a chunk of flesh out of his leg. "That's for my father." Zeldan screamed again, batting at the smoldering flesh. Adam raked the beam over on top of him, cutting into his shoulder. "That is for my people."
Adam raised the weapon and aimed between Zeldan's eyes. "And this one's for me."
The King fired, blasting a hole the diameter of a dime through the Unseleighe's skull. The scream that tried to escape from Zeldan's lips froze as the elf's features petrified. The limp form that was once an Unseleighe lord crumpled to the floor.
Adam stared at the still form for several long moments, waiting for Zeldan to move, sit up, talk, do something.
Is he dead? Adam wondered. Do demons like Zeldan really die?
Well, he sure looked dead. Even elves, when shot through the head like that, tended not to live very long.
I've got to be sure, he thought, raising his weapon to inflict more damage. If he's not dead, then none of us are safe.
Before he pulled the trigger again, Zeldan's body lit up as if it were a lamp shade and the raising of his weapon had flipped the switch. Adam stepped back, uncertain of the light's source, or its meaning; light pierced through Zeldan's wounds, in head and body, then changed from white light to blue. The wounds grew, the light dissolving the Unseleighe's flesh, expanding, consuming. It emitted a hiss, like white noise, a radio tuned to static. Like a mutant bacteria, the light consumed the Unseleighe's flesh, his clothing, until only a cocoon of light remained.
The cocoon rose toward the ceiling, then dissolved into it.
"Where is he going?" Adam wondered aloud.
"Beyond," a voice said behind him. "Where else?"
"Marbann?" Adam said, turning around. Marbann stood a few feet behind him, his right hand over a bleeding wound on his chest. He doesn't sound or look at all intact, Adam thought.
"Wenlann and Petrus . . ." Sammi said frantically as she and Moira ran into the computer room.
Adam helped Marbann to a chair. Spence wandered in, looking lost, but otherwise uninjured. Levin bolt shock, most likely, he thought, turning his attention to Marbann, whose right eye had clotted over from a wound in his forehead.
"Marbann, you're in shock," Adam said. "Please, sit down."
"Is he really gone?" Marbann said, his voice distant and weak.
"Zeldan is dead," Adam said, urging Marbann to sit on a chair. "That was his soul. There is nothing else left of him."
I hope.
Daryl squirmed on the table, then sat up, clumsily, on an elbow. His bindings had been cut.
"Adam?" Daryl said. "What just . . . what . . . your ears."
"My—" Of course. "I'll explain later," Adam said. "We need to get you to a hospital."
Daryl didn't reply. Instead, he stared at Adam, who was in full elf mode.
"Later," Adam said firmly. "Now you will go to sleep." The King closed his eyes and exerted a little magic over his friend, willing him to comply. When he opened his eyes, Daryl had passed into a deep, sound sleep.
"Where's Sammi and Moira?" Adam asked, and Marbann pointed absently toward the equipment.
That makes no sense. Wait, isn't that . . .
"Adam," Sammi called out. "I've found them." She stepped from behind some of the big blue cabinets, holding Wenlann by the hand. Moira and Petrus came out also, with the other elf Adam saw with Zeldan. The King instinctively drew the weapon on him.
"Stay right there," Adam said, gesturing the others to get out of the way. Then, to the elf, "Who are you?"
The elf looked defeated, but the more Adam studied him, the less Unseleighe he appeared.
"My name is Rathand. Formerly of Outremer," he said sadly. He looked around with a hint of fear in his expression. "Where is Zeldan?"
"Dead," Adam replied. "I am King Aedham Tuiereann of Elfhame Avalon. You're of Outremer? How did you come to be in the service of Zeldan?"
"I believe he's on our side," Samantha said. "At least, now. He was the one who released Daryl, then hid Wenlann and Petrus in a back room while you two had it out."
Rathand stepped forward, and Adam aimed his weapon directly at his face. Rathand flinched, but continued to speak. "The Unseleighe captured me, long ago. Outremer never knew what happened to me. I tried to escape, but when Zeldan learned of my engineering capabilities, he made certain I would be his forever." Rathand lifted a thatch of brown hair from his left temple, revealing a red crystal embedded into the flesh. "If I tried to escape, I died. Suffered and died, I should say. This thing he put into me is connected directly to my pain centers." He flinched, as if the crystal were already doing its work. "It is not possible to imagine the pain this crystal inflicts."
"But Zeldan is dead now," Adam said. "You're free."
Rathand looked down. "I'm dead. Already, my life is leaking away." He looked over at the two elven children. "Thank you for allowing me to do some good before I died. I might never have had the chance to redeem myself otherwise."
Moira stepped over to Rathand and examined the crystal. "Why are you going to die? Is it because of this thing?"
"It's connected to Zeldan's life force. It was insurance to prevent me from killing my captor. I don't have long to live."
"Then we'll remove it," Moira said. "We must do something!"
Rathand shook his head slowly, resolutely. "There is nothing to do. Removing it will kill me."
Adam lowered the weapon, finding no threat in a dying elf. "Why did you help, then?"
"It was the only way to rid myself of Zeldan. Helping you provided me with that opportunity." Rathand grimaced, and he reached for the crystal in his head. "It's already started," Rathand said. "This isn't going to be pleasant." Rathand dropped to his knees in obvious agony. "Don't mistake me for a hero, Tuiereann. I am not. I stood by while Zeldan killed your father, and I aided him in the assault on the castle. Please, allow me to die. I have no right to live."
"Even after Zeldan is dead, he inflicts pain," Sammi spat. "What is all this equipment, anyway?" She looked over at the large crystal, which had started to flicker. Rathand glanced over at it with a wry grin of amusement on his face.
"It's Morrigan, calling in," Rathand said. "Zeldan's partner in all this. She won't know yet."
From his crouched position, Rathand crawled over to the crystal, looking directly into it. "I'm going to enjoy this." He fiddled with something below the crystal. A hideous face appeared. The facets distorted her features a bit, but even Adam saw she was no beauty to begin with. Cross-eyed, hawk-nosed, she looked like someone who would do business with Zeldan.
She looked puzzled at first; then, as she took in Rathand's pained expression, worried.
"Well?" she snapped at Rathand impatiently. "Where's Zeldan? Where's my pain? Where's my power? The Dream should have been dropped by now."
Despite his own level of pain, Rathand managed to smirk at Morrigan.
"He's dead, you bitch," Rathand said, looking rather pleased with himself. "Your plan is history. You're not getting any more from us, not even what's in our banks."
Morrigan turned different shades of red and gurgled something incomprehensible.
Adam went over to one of the cabinets and opened one. Inside was a series of crystals, each glowing with power. And in each one, Adam felt the pain. He slammed the cabinet closed in disgust. That's how Zeldan did it. He stored human pain in this thrice-damned equipment. He regarded Rathand with equal disgust. And he helped him do it.
Can I really trust Rathand?
"Get away from there," Adam said, pushing Rathand aside. Rathand surrendered his place to the King without complaint. Adam regarded this new element with renewed hate.
I still have an enemy to conquer, he thought.
"Zeldan's dead. I killed him. Personally," Adam informed her.
Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
"King Aedham Tuiereann of Elfhame Avalon," Adam said. "And I will return to claim my kingdom. And if I find any Unseleighe or agents of Unseleighe on our lands, they will die without question."
"You . . ." she said, sputtering. "It was you who returned. That levin bolt, Zeldan's men . . ." Her voice trailed off. She consulted with someone off screen for a moment, then returned.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Sammi said.
From the banks of crystals, a low, resonant hum emitted. The color of light leaking through the cabinets changed from light yellow to red; something had definitely changed.
"You didn't!" Rathand wailed. Then, to Moira, said, "Please tell me she didn't."
"Didn't what?" Adam demanded to know. "What's wrong?" He looked at the crystal again; Morrigan had an expression of mock fear, which turned to amusement. Then the crystal went blank, with only her fading laugh to remind him she had ever been there.
He turned to Rathand. "What is going on?" He cast a wary eye at the equipment, certain it had become a new source of danger.
"She's reversed the power," he said, crawling up to a console of other, smaller crystals. One glance at it and Rathand shook his head, and sank back to the floor.
"Okay, so she's reversed the power," Adam said. "What the hell does that mean?"
Rathand fell over on his side, then rolled on his back. He was lying on the floor now, looking up at the ceiling. "This station was designed for one-way power transmission. The ports were only built to handle a certain amount of power, and in one direction only."
"Yes?" Adam said, standing over Rathand. "And?"
"There's going to be a big explosion," Rathand replied, visibly fading.
"How big?" Sammi asked, in a monotone.
Rathand looked about the room indifferently. "Oh, big enough to convert this entire building to dust."
"How do we stop it?" Adam asked.
"You don't . . ." Rathand said, exhaling a long, final breath. His head lolled to one side; his eyes stared at the ceiling, and the crystal in his head had turned bloodred.
The low resonant hum raised a bit in pitch, and Moira glanced at it nervously. "Okay, guys. Reality check. Why are we still down here?"
"She's right," Adam said. "All of you, get out of here!"
"What about Daryl?"
"I'll get him," Adam said, slinging the weapon over his back. "Sammi, help Marbann. Moira, Spence is in shock." Though still dazed, Marbann seemed to know they were in danger again. With little urging, he started for the stairwell.
With some effort, he managed to throw Daryl over his shoulder. The boy was still sound asleep and showed no signs of waking.
"Everyone, out!" Adam shouted, as he started for the stairwell with Daryl. "The building's about to blow!"
The weight room was empty of all but those already dead. Packages of Black Dream lay strewn everywhere, and he hoped that whatever was about to happen would destroy all of it.
Beneath them, Adam felt the concrete floor vibrate. Panting, lungs heaving, he reached the outside right after the others. The Caprice was still there, but the parking lot was clear of all the other vehicles they'd seen when they arrived.
Moira and Spence crawled into the back. Niamh jumped out of the car and helped Adam lay Daryl across their laps. Petrus and Wenlann climbed into the passenger's side of Sammi's cop car, followed by Marbann, making a tight fit. Then Niamh dove in across them. Marbann reached over and pulled the door shut.
"Everyone, hang on," Sammi shouted from the driver's seat. "This is going to be a rough ride."
Now, if we can get out of here. He situated himself with Daryl's head on his lap as Sammi threw the car into reverse. The Caprice lurched backward, did a reverse fishtail, then sped out of the New You Fitness Center parking lot.
In the rearview mirror, Adam watched the building explode.
He wasn't certain what he'd expected. The explosion's origins were not terrestrial, but from Underhill, so the explosion might have taken many different forms. When the building erupted, a fireball instantly engulfed the structure, then pulled it inward; the shock of the implosion cracked the rear window and caused the Caprice to swerve, but Sammi's expert driving skills maneuvered the car back under control.
Adam exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in. Moments later, Sammi pulled up behind the van, which was still parked where they'd left it.
"I sure hope everyone was out of that place," Sammi said. She looked down at Daryl. "What's wrong with him?"
In Adam's lap, Daryl had started to shake. Slightly, at first, then his entire body started to spasm.
"He's having a seizure," Moira said. "Adam, can you heal him?"
"I'll try. But I think we'd better get to a hospital," Adam said, glancing down at Daryl, whose skin had become cold and clammy.
"I'll lead in the van," Sammi said, getting out. "I have a light bar in the grill. Get us there in record time. I have to make sure Roach is still zonked anyway. Moira, you get up here and drive. Follow me to Parkland Memorial."
Sammi hopped into the van and took off, and Moira pulled in behind them, scratching the pavement with rubber.
"Nice pickup," Moira said. "You okay back there?"
I don't know, Adam thought. Daryl was still shaking, more violently now. Moira threw a Bic pen in the backseat.
"If he's biting his tongue, put this between his teeth," she said. Adam tried to force Daryl's mouth open, but his jaws were too tight. He checked his nose, found he was breathing shallowly, but freely, through it.
Come on, Daryl, Adam thought, holding his friend's head. Don't die on me now. Not after what we've just been through.
He reached for the nodes and focused their power on Daryl, imagining him well again. He kept it up for as long as possible, before his concentration gave out.
When he opened his eyes, Daryl was breathing normally. His body had relaxed, and the seizure had stopped. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked up at Adam.
"What happened?" Daryl said weakly.
"I'll tell you later," Adam said, relieved. "Just relax. You're about to start that vacation we promised you."
Daryl smiled faintly, then went back to sleep.