Prison of Hope (12 page)

CHAPTER
11

I
woke up on the floor of the realm gate control room. I expected I’d been out for several minutes, but apparently the sorcerer who had put me under wasn’t as powerfully adept in the use of mind magic as he might think, because I could still hear him, the guardian I’d hit, and the third man talking several feet away.

Part of me wanted to jump up and rush them, but instead I stayed still and quiet, and listened for anything that might p
rove valuable.

“You could have stopped him before he punched me,” the guardian I’d hit said as I heard him get back to his feet.

“Thirty seconds on your ass from one punch was the very least you deserved,” one of the other two men said. I recognized the voice of the sorcerer who had used his mind magic to knock me out.

It was good news that I’d only been out for half a minute. Maybe I’d still be able to stop whatever plan they had.

“Have you set the explosives?” the guardian asked, his annoyance obvious.

“We’re on it. Unlike you, we did our job.” The voice belonged to the third man. He was an unknown quantity, and unknown quantities make me nervous.

“So, how long will this gate be out of commission?” the
sorcerer
asked.

“A few hours,” the guardian said. “You could pile tons of C4 explosives in front of a realm gate, and it would only dent it. They heal themselves—did you know that?”

“ ‘They’?” the third man asked. “It’s not alive—it’s just wood and rock with runes on it.”

“Actually, it’s pretty close to living wood and rock. It can’t think for itself, but it does heal when damaged. Although we have no idea why.”

“We used enough explosives to screw with the runes, according to your plan,” the sorcerer said, clearly ending the
conversation
. “Will it work? That’s all I care about.”

“Of course,” the guardian said. “Once these things are ready, and detonated, no one will be able to get in or out of Tartarus. Those on the Tartarus side are set to go off in twenty minutes. These will go ten minutes after being set. They should go off simultaneously. It’ll give us enough time to get away, and make it harder for Hades and his people to figure out who we let out.”

“Excellent,” the sorcerer said.

“Who’s
that
guy?” the guardian asked after a few moments of silence.

“Nathan Garrett,” the sorcerer said. “Although I didn’t expect the pause when he saw me. Apparently, he’s not the man he us
ed to be.”

“Who did he used to be?” the third man asked.

“Pray you never find out,” the sorcerer told him. “An old acquaintance of my employer removed his memories a few years ago. I’d heard he’d retrieved them, but from what I saw, he’s considerably less of a threat than I remember.”

Even with my eyes closed, I would have sworn that I felt their gaze boring a hole into my back. “What if he wakes up?” the guardian asked.

“Kill him quickly or run like hell.”

“That’s not even slightly helpful,” the third man said.

“I’m not trying to be helpful. I just want you to finish your damn jobs and then vanish. You were never here. You’ll be paid the agreed fee, and I never want to see either of you again.”

“This isn’t about the money,” the guardian said.

“He’s right,” the third man agreed. “This is bigger tha
n money.”

“I’ve heard the rhetoric,” the sorcerer said. “I think you all have no idea what you’re trying to unleash here today, but you soon will.”

“So, why are you helping us?” the guardian asked.

“None of your goddamn business.”

One of the men snorted in derision.

There was silence for a few seconds, followed by some rustling. “I’m almost done planting the explosives on this end,” the third man said.

“The target is now free, so I’m going,” the sorcerer said. “I assume you gave him the information he would need to escape this place?”

“He’s been told what he needs to,” the guardian said. “While you were in Tartarus, I had to make sure he got away as quickly as possible. He knows the plan, which means he knows how to escape. So long as the security people are busy, there won’t be any problems.”

“If everyone
wasn’t
busy elsewhere, we’d be knee deep in Hades and a lot of angry armed guards right now,” the sorcerer told him. “Try not to kill anyone. Leaving Hades a big mess to clean up is a lot safer than having him come after us because we killed some of his people.”

“Hades doesn’t scare me,” the guardian scoffed.

“Then you are clearly a gormless idiot,” the sorcerer snapped before walking off. I felt his foot brush over my leg as he stepped around me on his way toward the doors.

I tentatively opened my eyes as the door to the room banged close, and noticed that the blue wristband that Hades had given me was missing. Instead of wondering how I was going to fight without my magic, I grabbed a marker pen that lay beside my arm, and drew a rune on the back of my hand. I had no idea where the knowledge for the rune had come from, but I knew with certainty that it would negate the runes Hades had in place around the facility, restoring my magic.

Ordinarily runes need to be activated with magic; any magic will do, but it needs that spark to begin. The second I finished drawing the rune, the entire thing shimmered slightly, and I felt the access to my magic rush into me.

I pushed myself up to my knees and glanced over the top of the nearest desk, at the two men, who had their backs toward me as they were working on finishing setting up the explosives.

“It’s a good thing he’s gone,” the guardian said. “Creepy
bastard
.”

“You didn’t have to go through the realm gate with him,” the other man said.

I flexed my fingers as orange and white glyphs spread o
ver the
back of my hands and up my forearms, vanishing under the T-shirt’s sleeves as they reached my biceps. I stood, making no sound, and stepped into the space between the two rows of desks, watching the men plant their explosives.

“You know, you really shouldn’t do that,” I said as casually as I could manage.

The two men jumped to their feet, turning to face me, expressions of shock on their faces.

“I’ll give you one chance to surrender,” I declared.

“There are two of us,” the guardian said.

“Congrats on your ability to count. I’ll take that as a
‘no’ then.”

“You can’t use your magic,” the other man said. He was much thinner than I’d recalled, but because he’d removed his mask, I could see his bald head and long dark beard. Tattoos adorned his face around his nose and cheeks, dark swirls that made him look more menacing than his stature alone would have ever conveyed. I glanced down at the rune on the back of his hand; it matched my own.

Instead of showing my rune, I ignited a ball of fire in my palm, spinning it slowly as the two men watched. If there was to be a fight, I didn’t want to use too much magic in such a confined place. It was far too easy for the unconscious guards in the room to get hurt.

The guardian dashed toward me.

I threw the ball of fire into his face, which immediately ignited. He stopped running and dropped to the ground, trying to pat out the magical fire. I took the opportunity to kick him in the face with enough force to shatter his nose and probably break a few teeth. He’d heal, but when he woke up, it would hurt. I didn’t have a problem with that at all.

The last man scowled at me as he walked around to the front of the realm gate. “I’m not going to be so easy.” He ran forward and threw a punch at my head, which was easily avoided. But his fist continued on toward the nearest desk, which exploded on impact.

I put several feet between us as the cloud of dust and woodchips settled. He cracked his knuckles and smiled as the
guardian
beside him began to stir. There was an unpleasant sucking noise as he tried to breathe through his broken nose.

The thin man lifted his friend from the ground and started to shiver slightly as a sigh escaped the guardian’s lips. I realized what was happening and threw a ball of air at the pair, hoping to break them apart. The thin man darted aside, moving considerably faster than he had only moments ago, and threw the guardian’s body toward me, which I pushed aside with a blast of air. The unconscious guardian slammed into a nearby table and bounced over it to the floor.

“You’re a siphon,” I remarked. “The tattoos depict your tribe, I assume.”

“You know of my kind. I’m impressed,” he said, although he looked anything but.

“Atlas is a siphon. I’ve met him a few times. He’s about as big an asshole as you are.”

“Oh no, I’m much bigger.” He darted forward, his mass increasing so that by the time he’d taken three steps toward me, he was at least a foot taller and considerably more muscular.

I threw a blast of fire at him, which struck his now barrel-like chest, but barely slowed him down, forcing me to dive aside before he could attack.

I sprang over the nearest desk, putting at least a little distance between us, as the siphon flexed his considerable bulk, causing his already straining T-shirt to tear at the sleeves.

Siphons absorb the energy of living things, including the life force of any people they touch, so letting the big bastard grab me was only going to end one way for me, and that was badly. I walked toward the edge of the desk, stepping over one of the still unconscious guards. It had been maybe ten or so minutes since I’d entered the room, and even the older model
concussion
grenades could knock people out for up to an hour, so there was very little chance of one of them suddenly waking up and
helping
me.

The moment I got within a step of the gap between the banks of desks, the siphon charged again, batting the monitors and work equipment aside as he tore through the desk as if it were a finishing line in a race.

I jumped back but couldn’t put enough distance between us as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward him. Siphons need skin-to-skin contact to absorb a person’s life force, and I tried to force myself free from his grip. I managed to dodge the punch he aimed at my head and drove a blade of fire into his side, twisting it slightly, which caused him to roar in pain and release me, but at the same time he kicked out to get me away.

The kick hit me square in the chest and sent me flying back ten feet, colliding with a computer monitor, which fell onto the floor beside me as we both crash-landed. I pushed the broken monitor away and rolled to my side, but not in time to evade the siphon, who grabbed my ankle, lifting me from the ground and casually throwing me head first into the realm gate. I managed to twist at the last moment, taking the blow on my shoulder, which crunched.

I yelled out as I dropped to my knees, and gingerly moved my arm. There didn’t appear to be anything broken or seriously injured, but it was going to hurt for a while. I was officially done with the “don’t use magic” idea and turned to face the behemoth, only to discover that he was almost on top of me.

He grabbed me in a bear hug and lifted me from the ground. I felt my energy ebb from me as the siphon began to drain me, but he hadn’t managed to get both of my arms pinned, allowing me to grab a Tesla rod from nearby. I ignited it, and jammed it into the side of his neck.

The siphon instantly began to convulse and released his grip. Unfortunately, as he’d been holding me when I’d electrocuted him, that surge flowed into my body, causing considerable pain as the extensive charge wracked through me.

After what was probably mere milliseconds, but felt considerably longer, I found myself lying on the ground, panting. The siphon was prone on the ground, but I wondered how long he’d stay that way. Probably not long enough for me to get to him and kill him. I pushed the thought aside. I
couldn’t
kill him; he
had t
he answers to my questions. Besides, it was incredibly
difficult
to kill a siphon; they could just use their absorbed energy to heal themselves.

I got back to my feet and readied my magic, the orange and white glyphs igniting in preparation for what I needed to do. I took a step forward and noticed that the glyphs on my forearms looked odd; in places the two different colors appeared to merge so that I couldn’t tell where either of them began or ended. I concentrated a little, and the remainder of the glyphs followed suit, so that instead of being orange and white, they were a mixture of the two colors. Lightning leapt harmlessly across my fingertips, and when I glanced up again, the siphon was getting back to his feet, an expression of rage on his face.

With no time to think about what I’d done, I darted toward him. The small amount of magic that danced along my fingers quickly transformed into a blade of brilliant white-blue lightning as I plunged it up into his chest, the brightness of the magic almost too intense to look on. As the siphon screamed out, I
created
a ball of air in the palm of my free hand, spinning it at an increasing revolution until it was a blur. Then in one motion I removed the blade of lightning and, twisting my hips, plunged the sphere of air into the siphon’s chest.

It tore into his body with horrific force, the sound alone enough to stifle the screams that escaped the siphon’s mouth. When I’d forced the ball of air far enough into his body, I released the magic.

The effect was catastrophic. With no form to the magic, it exploded, engulfing the siphon and throwing him back through the double doors behind him, with a loud crash. He remained swept up in the maelstrom of air until both he and the magic impacted with the wall in the reception area outside, leaving a huge crater in what used to be solid concrete blocks.

As I walked toward the control room’s exit, I noticed the gun that Tommy had given me before I’d made my way down. It sat on the floor next to a fallen computer monitor. I picked it up and replaced it in the holster. I stepped out of the realm gate control room and used air magic to blow aside the cloud of dust and debris that had been expelled when the siphon had met his new temporary home.