Death's Mantle: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Revelations Book 1) (12 page)

“They get put down?” Kim asked, her voice so quiet, Mal had to strain to hear her.

“Something like that,” Sabastin said. “At least that’s what the lore says. I’m not actually
that
old. They haven’t been around for a while. Not since gods walked among men.”

“What if I say no?” Malcom asked, a half-hearted smile crossing his lips. He had already decided to help because he couldn’t shake the feeling it was true. Something in the core of his being sensed the innate rightness of Sabastin’s story.

He was Death. He was one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, and because of that, he had to save the world. If it didn’t sound so insane, it might have made him laugh. Here he was, a poor black kid with a drunken wife-beating father, and he was Death incarnate. His hands curled into fists. Well, that was one problem he could easily solve now. His father wouldn’t be beating them anymore.

“You can’t deny your birthright. Destiny has picked you, and the harder you struggle against it, the more difficult it will be for all of us,” Sabastin said as the sky above them ripped itself asunder, spitting arcs of purple energy through the air.

Mal turned, looking toward the portal as Jesse and Amy burst from it. They tumbled toward them, falling so fast there was no way he could get to them in before they slammed into the ground. Mal gritted his teeth, about to try anyway when Sabastin glanced up at them and snapped his fingers. Wind rushed around them, buffeting the two and slowing their fall. Happiness spilled into Mal as he watched. Amy and Jesse were still alive, and if they were alive was Ian alive too? As he stared at them, hope welled up inside him. Was Ian just through that portal?

As they touched down like a pair of feathers, Sabastin rushed over and knelt beside Amy, completely ignoring Jesse. “Damn,” he muttered. “This isn’t good.”

“How isn’t it good? They’ve been missing for days,” Kim asked, taking a step toward them, but not moving close enough to actually touch them.

“Someone was trying to force her mantle into awakening.” Sabastin swallowed as Jesse shook his head groggily and got to his hands and knees. “Her mantle is all warped.”

“Jesse, what happened? Are you guys okay?” Kim asked, ignoring Sabastin.

“You mean Amy has a mantle too?” Mal glanced from Jesse to Amy and for a moment, he could almost see red flame burning just beneath the surface of her flesh. If that was true, whatever was wrong with the mantle could be fixed, right?

“Yes,” Sabastin replied as Jesse shook his head and retched onto the asphalt. After what felt like forever, he looked up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The sight made Malcom’s belly slosh, and he looked away. He’d never been really good with seeing vomit despite his frequent exposure to it.

“They were doing these weird treatments on Amy and Ian, but Ian went crazy, and the room turned to ice. I managed to escape with her,” Jesse mumbled, his eyes went distant like he was watching a scene play out in his mind.

“They didn’t come after you?” Sabastin asked, removing some chalk from his pocket. He drew a circle around Amy and began to draw geometric symbols all over it.

“I don’t know,” Jesse said as he got slowly to his feet and took a wobbly step toward, Sabastin. Just as he was about to touch the man, Sabastin lashed out, flinging him several feet backward. Jesse struck the parking lot hard and lay there, not moving.

“What are you doing?” Kim screamed, rushing over to Jesse and kneeling down next to him.

“Don’t touch me. We don’t have time for your questions. I can smell that damn cyclops. I can feel the wind changing. The air is getting heavier. The portal is already open…” Sabastin looked up and frowned. “You guys need to get out of here. I’ll take on Polyphemus, buy you guys time to escape.” He glanced at Amy and waved his hand. Lightning exploded from the sky, slamming into each of the symbols he’d drawn. Red light flashed from each and flames leapt into the air. “Take her with you. This spell will fix her mantle, given enough time.”

Sabastin waved his hand, and brilliant pastels shimmered in front of him, the air around him warped and pulsing. “Go through,” he muttered just as a huge hammer slammed into him. He flew across the parking lot, skidding across the asphalt like a broken doll.

The huge cyclops glowered and moved toward the fallen man, each lumbering step cracking the pavement beneath his feet. Sabastin scrambled to his feet, spear in hand. His green Hawaiian shirt was soaked with red from where he’d been struck, and as he moved, pain flashed across his face.

“Go now,” Sabastin called, raising his spear above his head. Lightning arced through the air, striking his weapon and zipping along its surface. He darted forward and swung his spear at the cyclops. Electricity exploded from the tip of the weapon as Polyphemus side-stepped and kicked the man in the bloody spot on the side. Sabastin howled, his weapon slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground as the cyclops smacked him across the face with his hammer.

Sabastin wobbled backward, anger filling his features as Polyphemus’ huge hammer came down. Sabastin reached out, catching the cyclopean wrist with one hand. The man’s muscles strained, cording beneath his skin as he rolled backward, flinging the humongous creature across the parking lot.

Polyphemus hit so hard, the ground shook. He skidded backward, tearing up the asphalt before slamming into the chain-link fence surrounding the parking lot. The metal bent under the force of the impact. The cyclops laid there, eye glazed as Sabastin turned toward them, blood dripping from his lips.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, clutching his side with one hand. Crimson oozed through his fingers as he spoke.

His voice seemed to shake Kim into action and as Malcom turned toward her, she scooped Jesse into her arms and moved toward Sabastin’s portal. Without a second thought, she dumped him unceremoniously into the void. Jesse hit the spot with a splorch, his body hanging there, suspended in space for a moment before vanishing in a flash of emerald light.

Malcom shook himself and bent down to grab Amy by the arm. Her skin was so warm, that for a moment, it reminded him of using the slide at the park when he was a kid. The metal had been so hot, it had nearly burned him.

“Go on, Kim. I’m right behind you,” Mal called, hoisting Amy’s burning body over his shoulder and taking a wobbly step toward the portal. Kim nodded once and leapt in. She vanished just as Mal got there. He dropped Amy into the portal, and as her body hung there, suspended in the gelatinous air, a monstrous roar made him leap out of his skin.

He spun to see Sabastin flying through the air. The man slammed into Kim’s car, shattering the windshield and crashing into the front seats. Polyphemus’ lips curled into a horrific grin as he hefted his hammer.

“You expect one pathetic old man to save you from me?” the cyclops asked as he walked right by Mal and reached into the wreckage, seizing Sabastin by the throat and tearing him free in a spray of safety glass. Sabastin hung there, blood dripping down his body. One eye was closed completely, and the other looked distant and empty. The cyclops raised his hammer high above his head, readying himself to deliver a death blow.

“Stop!” Malcom cried. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the cyclops with one hand. His fingers closed around the monster’s bronze flesh as he jerked the creature’s hand backward. Sabastin slipped from the cyclops’ grip as Polyphemus shrieked. The man struck the asphalt with a wet-sounding thud, reminding Malcom of the time he’d dropped a wet sack of laundry on the laundromat floor.

Polyphemus tore his arm from Malcom’s grip and as he did so, his flesh ripped away, spilling golden blood on the ground. They both stared at the wound. Malcom swallowed and opened his hand. The creature backpedaled as a chunk of his flesh fell from Mal’s fingers and struck the ground with a thwack. A look of horror exploded across the creature’s face as he swung his hammer wildly at Malcom.

The hammer came at him like it was moving in slow motion, and he easily stepped back out of the way. Polyphemus cleaved through the air as well as the pavement beneath where Malcom had been. How was that possible? Was it because of his mantle? Was it empowering him right now?

The cyclops swung again. This time, Malcom stepped in close and struck Polyphemus’s wrist with his forearm. There was a loud snap, and the weapon fell to the ground, cracking the asphalt.

“How?” the cyclops cried, flinging his still-bleeding other hand at Malcom.

Malcom ducked and waited, and waited, and waited. He glanced up to see the fist still moving above his head, and he shook himself. Why was the creature moving so slowly? Or maybe, maybe he wasn’t really moving slowly at all. Maybe it just seemed like he was moving slowly.

Malcom stood after the monster’s fist passed through the air above his head and reached out with his palm. He touched the cyclops gilded breastplate, and the armor decayed beneath his touch, blackening around the edges and disintegrating into powder.

Polyphemus staggered backward, brushing at his chest, sweeping bits of rotten armor away like he was afraid it would infect him. Malcom took a step closer, green fire dancing in his palm, though he wasn’t quite sure where it had come from.

“This is a fight you cannot win, cyclops. Please just leave,” Malcom said, holding his palm out in front of them. The green light cast dancing shadows across the ground beneath him, and as he took a step forward, he felt an army at his back.

“Hades,” Polyphemus said, staring past Malcom’s shoulder and off into the distance. “Why have you come here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Malcom replied, glancing over his shoulder but seeing no one. Had the creature gone insane? Or was he just referring to Malcom as Hades? He was death after all, right? He was about to ask when the creature staggered backward several steps and fell onto his butt. He sat there, wide-eyed and staring.

“Is this the power that was foretold?” Polyphemus blubbered.

“What do you mean?” Malcom asked, staring hard at the cyclops. Something told him the creature could tell him a lot. He took a step closer, reaching out toward the monster as Sabastin groaned and got haphazardly to his feet. The old man leaned against the car, his chest shuddering with every breath as he gripped the mangled door of the vehicle with bloody fingers.

“Mors, we need to leave.” Sabastin’s voice was like the wind, full of force and yet strangely fleeting. “I’ve drained too much of my strength holding the portal open. I can’t do it much longer.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Malcom said as he began moving toward Sabastin. The older man nodded. He wobbled toward the portal and vanished in a flare of sapphire light. That was weird. Hadn’t it been emerald a moment ago?

Malcom approached the portal and threw a glance back at the cyclops. Only… only Polyphemus wasn’t there. His heart hammered in his chest as he whirled around, looking for the monster.

A blow rocked his body, flinging him to the side and sending him skidding across the parking lot. Agony burned in him. The world faded and blurred around the edges. He got to his feet only to be backhanded across the face. He wobbled as the cyclops loomed in front of him.

“You’re not fully awakened, Mors.” Polyphemus smiled and reached out, seizing him by the throat. Malcom struggled, trying to suck in a breath but none would come. He seized the creature’s huge arm, his legs kicking in midair. “It’s a good thing too. I’m not sure Jormungand would honor his trade for my wife if I didn’t bring at least one of you back.”

Polyphemus shrugged and began moving toward the magenta tear in the sky. Malcom struggled, trying to do something, anything as Sabastin’s portal winked out of existence.

Kim 01:06

The light from the portal vanished, leaving Kim standing alone in the large, hollowed-out cavern. She turned in a slow circle, trying to get her bearings. The soot-stained walls felt like they were closing in on her as she looked around for someone, anyone, but as far as she could tell, no one else was here. Even if the others hadn’t made it through, Jesse had gone before her. He had to be around here somewhere.

She tried to keep her heart from pounding its way out of her chest as she peered into the surrounding darkness. The sound of water caught her ear, a faint trickle just on the edge of her hearing. She started toward it for lack of a better place to go. As she approached, she realized she was heading toward the center of the cavern. A pale stream surged beneath her feet as she walked closer. She shivered as the cold water chilled her feet, but try as she might, she couldn’t seem to find dry land. She sighed and shook her head. Of course. Of freaking course, she’d be trapped ankle deep in chilly water.

She squelched forward until she came upon a crystalline fountain. Pale water flowed from its center, splashing down over its diamond-hewn carapace and splashing to the ground in a shimmering waterfall.

A man stood there, leaning on the fountain and staring at her. One of his eyes was covered by a black patch, but the other pierced her heart with its baleful gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as he took a step toward her and rubbed his chin with one leathery hand.

“So you’ve awakened.” His voice was like a dreary melody, reminding her of a funeral hymn. “That’s interesting.”

“Where am I?” she asked, trying to ignore her fear as it wrapped its icy fingers around her throat.

“You should know quite well where you are. You don’t, not yet at least, but you should.” He waved his hand, and a black box appeared in his hand. It was a shabby thing, so badly splintered on one side the battered white wood beneath showed through. He reached one pale hand into the box and withdrew a single woodchip. He showed it to her. An ominous black dot was etched in the center of the white wood.

Without warning, he stepped forward and pressed the chip into her hand. It was so cold and thin, it was like a flake of ice, and for a moment, she was worried it would freeze her solid.

“What’s this?” Kim stared at the woodchip in her palm as the shape of the etching upon its surface began to shift and change shapes while never quite settling on any in particular, so in the end, it mostly looked like a writhing blob.