Contractor (14 page)

being stamped out. It was tough to see so far.

One of the lights paused. The others

gathered around it. A bright ball of white

light began to grow rapidly. What…?

Another person was scrying. Heading

toward him.

Daniel immediately shoved the sight

away and turned back to the river.

As Xik had taught him, he hid his power

away, layering it in sheets. It was like

wrapping himself in thick grey blankets,

dyed the same blank color as the scry.

Couldn’t use it like that, but that wasn’t the

point.

He stayed perfectly still. He couldn’t

move much, anyway, not unless he wanted to

risk undoing the magical stealth, but the

comfort of performing the task eased his

nerves. Without needing to sleep, he’s spent

a lot of time sitting still, practicing the

maneuver, and incredibly paranoid how fully

he was hidden. He had no one to tell him

how well he was doing.

He could feel the light reach him. It

buzzed behind his back for a few moments,

then took off along the river. Daniel waited

for a long moment, then casually stood and

walked back down the road, careful not to

use any magic. Reaching for the magic had

become so easy, it was like moving an arm.

Seconds passed. He couldn’t feel

anything else.

Other contractors? Or wizards? It didn’t

matter. Better to keep his head down. He

started trying to figure out the quickest way

back across the river.

He didn’t get far before he felt

something else—something different.

Something wrong.

It cut at him, black, cold. Nothing

touched him. He could feel it. The flat edge

of a knife running down the skin on his back.

A horrible promise.

A large part of Daniel told him to run

away as fast as he could, go home, throw

himself in bed, pull up the covers, and go to

sleep.

The vision of a fading Mrs. Faldey made

him turn back around.

Stretching over the spires of the tallest

buildings was a curtain of shadow.

Everything within was stained and foggy, as

if he was looking through old tinted glass. At

the dome’s peak was a jagged hole in the sky

from which the power was emerging. He

could see flecks of red and black through the

tear in reality. A little window into hell,

floating between the clouds.

Only the clouds caught inside that thing

had stopped moving. The severed pieces

outside the barrier continued to drift, misting

out and away from where their bodies had

been hacked off.

The dome sunk down to the ground and

stayed there, silent, enveloping most of

downtown Cleveland within its borders, just

missing the stadium. The edge was only a

block away from where he stood.

He remembered feeling something like it

before, but his senses were weaker then. Not

to mention he’d been busy cowering in his

room under orders from Xik.

The extractors were here.

He left his perch at the edge of the lake.

Walking down the street was like walking

the plank. The desolate tap of his shoes on

the road echoed in his ears.

The darkness stretched up before him.

On one side, the normal world; on the other,

the partition of downtown trapped inside. He

reached forward with a hand. His fingers

clenched into a fist, unwilling to touch it.

He brushed the barest edge of his finger

against the barrier.

Nothing happened.

He tried a bit more, then, and then the

whole finger. He pushed his whole hand in.

The darkness didn’t change or ripple. It had

no more resistance than air. He drew back

without a struggle.

That wasn’t so bad.

Then he remembered Xik’s words. One

could rip you limb from limb quite easily.

But that was the old Daniel.

Going inside would be risky, but he

needed information about the extractors and

the human magicians both. He wouldn’t get

another opportunity before they hit

Aplington, and he couldn’t afford to be

surprised. If he died…Felix died.

No. He’d be worse than dead. He never

would have existed in the first place.

"Ok," Daniel said aloud. He leveled his

hands in front of himself, visualizing a

walkway. "I can do this. No sweat. Free my

mind."

He took a long breath, grit his teeth, and

stepped through the barrier.

The dome had transformed the city. The

color was sucked out of everything, turning it

into the black-and-white movie version of

the real world.

Daniel turned, testing the barrier again

with his fingers. It was solid. He pressed his

palm against it and pushed. It didn’t budge.

He risked concentrating a bit of power

in his fist and punched the dome. It thrummed

at the point of contact, but repelled him like a

thick layer of rubber. He shook his hand

loose.

Daniel made a mirthless smirk. "Well,

that’s not good."

At the moment, he’d wanted to hear

himself talk. Put some normality back into

the situation. A little self-deprecating humor

to alleviate the sense that he’d knowingly

walked into a haunted house.

The words floated out, then fell flat,

dead before they got a foot away. It was like

talking in a pressurized airplane cabin. His

voice had no life.

Daniel shut his mouth.

He glanced up at the darkened city, and

he could see patches of black mingling with

the bright light of magic. He started forward,

jogging along and keeping his senses alert.

****

Downtown was like something out of the

Twilight Zone. People were still there,

crowding the sidewalks and stores, but they

were statues frozen in time. Some were

caught mid-laugh, others sipping drinks. An

entire club was paused mid-dance. The

Vorid spawn seemed unaffected by the

dome’s spell, still latched onto backs here

and there. He sliced his hand through any he

passed. They fell apart and turned into the

soul-dust that seeped into his skin.

It wasn’t long until he sensed powerful

magic up ahead. It came in spurts and blasts.

He pushed part of his magic into his legs and

hopped up to a fire escape. From there, it

was an easy climb to the roof. He crept up to

the opposite edge and peered down into the

street.

Three people were fighting what had to

be an extractor. It looked as Xik had

described it—a construct animated by magic,

maybe seven or eight feet tall. The towering

steel robot was covered with glowing black

and white inscriptions which flashed and

flickered as it moved, almost like some kind

of magical circuitry. Its steps thundered hard

on the asphalt. A wide, cylindrical head was

perched above square shoulders. There

wasn’t any particular part of it he’d call its

face.

The three people fighting had an obvious

but effective strategy. One was harrying and

distracting the machine close up, fighting

with a sword and shield. The other two were

throwing what looked like lightning bolts

from a safe distance.

Daniel watched the magicians work.

They formed a sigil, a flat but complex little

frame of lines and white shapes, and a

moment later, a ball of light shot from it at

their target. It reminded him of the green

lines of Xik’s spell. Wondering how the

sigils worked, he tried to figure out some

pattern, or at least detect how they were

channeling energy like that, but gave up after

a few moments. He could feel the ebb and

flow of the power, but it was like trying to

pick up a language he didn’t know by

listening to native speakers talk a mile a

minute.

The robot’s arm glowed black. Its fist

flew forward, crushing into the man’s shield.

The magic knight was flung through the air

and crashed back against the wall right

below Daniel hard enough to break bones.

Daniel inched back, making sure only his

eyes were peeking out above the roofline.

The knight clambered up onto his hands

and knees. Daniel was surprised he could

move. But he didn’t stand.

Seeing their comrade in trouble, the

other man started chucking his spells even

faster. The woman stopped the small shots

and started gathering a larger sigil together.

Lines and shapes and strange letters spread

out under her feet in a twisted tangle.

The extractor had just reached the

injured warrior when the charged spell was

unleashed. A stream of blue-white lightning

cracked from a sphere above her head and

slammed into the robot. It ground to a halt,

magic inscriptions flickering erratically.

The warrior was back up on his feet. He

leapt high and brought his sword down with

both arms. It glowed bright red and plunged

through the machine’s head and down

through its chest. The extractor’s inscriptions

snapped and buzzed, then faded. It fell limp,

and then began to disintegrate into the same

black smoke as the spawn.

Daniel watched them regroup. The

warrior had a heavy limp, and the girl had

slumped onto her rear and was breathing

hard. The other guy looked completely zoned

out, comatose with exhaustion. Daniel felt a

strange sense of pride. It was a little close

for comfort, but they’d won out.

If he had to fight them, though…that

knight could take some serious hits, and

while he could run fast if he built up speed

over time, he might not be able to instantly

dodge lightning bolts. They were in the

major leagues. He was Double-A at best.

He’d been so focused on their abilities

that he hadn’t noticed their clothing. They

were dressed casually, but what looked like

small tabard was draped around their

shoulders. It had a gold symbol he couldn’t

quite make out against a white background.

He doubted any contractors had a chance to

organize that much—he was probably

looking at warriors from a serious magical

organization.

A heavy, repetitive thump ground down

the road. Daniel looked up the street.

Another extractor was running toward them

like a charging rhinoceros. The warrior

lifted his shield and closed at an angle to

draw it away from his friends.

It ignored the swordsman and churned

straight for the lightning casters. Two bolts

dinged it, but it slowed only slightly. The

male caster threw another bolt that went

wild, smashing through a window, and then

collapsed, totally spent.

The woman didn’t have enough time to

charge one of those big attacks. The warrior

was limping back to intercept, shield and

sword glowing, but he wasn’t going to make

it in time.

Daniel leaned back from the edge and

turned away. When it finished them off, it

would come for him. He had to get away.

Run away again. Run because he was

too weak. Be useless. Let people die. How

many more could those three save if they

lived? How many Eliza Faldeys?

Shit.

Daniel leapt off the balcony and knitted

his fingers together. His arms became a

white hammer. Streamers of light flared from

his fingers as he fell. The extractor looked up

just as he slammed into its head.

The machine was blown to its knees, but

its own enchanted armor crackled at him.

Daniel rebounded from the force, flying back

up into the air. His reflexes kicked in; he hit

the ground upright, a few feet back from the

machine. He rung his hands. They stung like

he’d punched a brick wall.

The extractor hummed, then stood

straight again. Its head had been crushed into

its shoulders, but the damage wasn’t enough

to stop it. Daniel shoved the power back into

his feet and tried strafing around it.

It swiveled by its waist to follow his

movement. Daniel took a couple more steps.

It stayed on him, turning past 180 degrees. It

wasn’t limited in how far it could stretch like

a person, but jointed like a robot. He took a

couple steps back, trying to figure out how he

should attack it.

"Who the hell are you?!" the woman

shouted. She was supporting her fallen

partner under the shoulder.

"An idiot with a bad idea!"

The extractor attacked with a black,

magic-wrapped fist. Daniel flitted backward.

The iron hand crushed into the ground. Its

knuckles left craters in the concrete.

"Holy…" He snapped his head back at

the woman—the girl. Jesus, she was

practically his age. Weren’t adults supposed

to be doing this sort of shit? "Hey, can you

do another one of those?! A big lightning bolt

thing?!"

"…it’ll take time!"

"Just get it ready!"