The House of Grey- Volume 6 (14 page)

“Brian, Mr. Gatt, Baroty is scripting a—”

The black pit erupted, the tar pushed up and out, and the earth shook and screamed violently as the substance moved. Many of the H.U.M.A.N.E. fighters and the commandos were splattered by the tar and were slowly eaten or dissolved. The screams echoed in Monson’s mind.

Distracted by the ongoing terror, Brian Gatt did not see the flicking fingers and fluid call of Christopher Baroty, nor the whipping silhouette of Baroty’s Breath of the Dragon. Only when the blade made contact with his legs did the Magi react. A pain-filled cry rang out as Baroty slashed his sword, the flame-covered weapon renting both clothes and flesh. Brian Gatt stepped back and only barely blocked a second blow from the now-standing Baroty.

Baroty’s blade struck again, this time slashing Brian Gatt across his chest. The cut did not appear deep, but nevertheless caused Brian Gatt to cry out in pain as his blade fell to his side. The tables were turned, and now Baroty held his blade aloft ready to strike.

“Let this be a message to your collective Magi. This world is mine.”

He grinned as the Breath of the Dragon glinted with savage delight. The sword smoldered as it gained speed, heading right for Brian Gatt’s jugular. Monson saw his eyes close.

“No!”

Baroty’s blade jerked to the side as a second blade, a second Breath of the Dragon, crashed into it and altered its path. Hot metal shaved past Brian Gatt’s face, the fire of the sword singeing his skin. Dripping with silver light, Monson Grey stepped cleanly in front of Brian Gatt, sword held at the ready.

“If you think you’re going to kill off someone else important to me, you’re sadly mistaken.”

The grin of Christopher Baroty reattached itself, though his voice was still venomous. “I am growing tired of your interference, boy. Are you sure you should—”

Monson attacked, dashing forward and performing a perfectly executed Two-Step aimed directly at Baroty’s chest. Baroty parried the blow, stepping forward and spinning into Monson, causing him to retreat. A quickly scripted combat spell followed his sword attack as Baroty used an earth-splitting spell similar to the one he had attempted on Brian Gatt . Monson countered with an earth-shifting spell of his own, causing the ground to change into a moving sidewalk, and reversing the direction of Baroty’s fissure back at him. For a second time, the two exchanged blows.

“You’re a weaker swordsman than I thought,” yelled Monson as he committed to a score of blistering side and overhand blows.

“Silence, child!” spat Baroty. “I have been practicing blade work for hundreds of years. There is no way that you could—”

A sloppy counter overextended Baroty’s sword. He seemed to realize the mistake at once as he quickly shut his mouth and tried to recover. But he was not fast enough. Monson struck with the flat portion of his blade, hitting Baroty’s sword with all his might. Baroty’s Breath of the Dragon arced high overhead and landed far out of reach. Monson leveled his blade over Baroty’s heart.

“You lose,” said Monson. An additional explosion ripped through the air, scattering debris. Monson’s eyes flickered up to see a large hole in the Battlefield’s dome. Through the hole, many Dragoons, including Legon, slipped through, all diving on the remainder of Baroty’s forces. The Darkness was still oozing and streaming violently, but seemed content with the space it occupied, as it was not invading any more of the field. It was over. They had won.

“Going to kill me, Monson?” Baroty asked mockingly. “You honestly think you can kill me? Do not underestimate the difficult—”

“Kill you?” Monson interrupted. “Who said anything about killing you?”

Baroty’s eyes narrowed. Monson smiled sweetly. “I still have questions I want answered. I’m not going to kill you, but I will chop off your hands so you can’t script. That should solve my problem.”

Monson could hear the undeniable sound of Dragoons letting loose their flames above him in an attempt to keep the Darkness at bay. Monson and Baroty continued to stare at one another until Baroty started to snigger, actually lowering his hands to hold his gut. He laughed long and hard.

“You’re going to chop off my hands, are you?” he sneered, tears in his eyes. “Aren’t you the problem-solver, Mr. Grey?”

Monson, about to reply, noticed Cyann, Casey and Artorius making their way towards him. He let out a sigh of relief. They were all right, though Cyann appeared to be injured. Seeing her battle-weary face, Monson was reminded of something that had been bothering him ever since this whole ordeal had begun.

“I see why you’re here. I understand the machine, the bridge, and most of your other maniacal actions. But the one thing that continues to completely baffle me is the reason you were after Cyann and Kylie last night…and how you got Damion to work for you. What could you possibly want with them? Why go after them at all? Was everything related to your machine and trying to get me to use it? And why do you always call me the Son of the Great Betrayer? Did you know my parents?”

Surprisingly, Baroty’s eyes bulged. “Last night? Damion? What are you talking about? Son of the Great Betrayer? The Great Betrayer had no—”

A roar sounded; a roar like no other shook everything. Monson knew better, knew that he should not look. But the roar was too overwhelming. He looked back over his shoulder and almost dropped his blade.

The ooze of Darkness floated
in the air
high above the pit
,
the ball not touching the field. Many yards in diameter, the ball hovered like wax in a Lava Lamp, slowly releasing the dregs of tar from its body. The roar sounded again, sending ripples across its black surface as it shivered with the vibrations. A line in the ooze appeared and split open as an uncanny dark light pierced the outer layer of darkness. Two huge, clawed hands gripped either side of the opening and peeled back the Darkness to reveal… a huge black-eyed gargoyle, its head the size of a car. The Dragoons of H.U.M.A.N.E. swooped down and covered the beast in flame. The beast gave them no notice, however, but rather turned its head and looked directly at Monson. It opened its mouth and spoke one terrifying word.

“You.”

Monson rounded on Baroty, fully intending to stick the man who had caused all this destruction. The heart of the Midday Darkness was upon them and there was nothing they could do about it. Monson was about to step forward. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage. He wanted Baroty to suffer for the doom he had brought upon them. He stopped when he saw the look on Baroty’s face. His expression…it was…shock. His skin was pale…colorless…clammy. A glint caught Monson’s eye, a glint that was nestled directly in the middle of Christopher Baroty’s chest. Strangely, Baroty’s expression was reminiscent of Molly’s—of Molly, right before she died. A horrible squelching noise sounded as Baroty stumbled forward. Monson on reflex caught him, only to nearly drop him. Warmth spread out over Monson’s hands.

It was blood.

A dark cackle forced Monson’s head up. Where Baroty once stood, Aaron Gibson laughed and wiped the edge of a Magi Blade.

Monson’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth. No words would come. Gibson cackled again as he bowed before Monson. “I greet you formally, Son of the Great Betrayer. Welcome to the end of this world.”

Another roar sounded as the Heart of the Midday Darkness landed, shaking the entire domed structure to its core. The beast started its attack. 

Chapter
62
- Gibson

Monson attempted to take in everything that was going on around him. On the one side was the massive beast that rampaged about, ravaging whole lines of H.U.M.A.N.E. members and commandos. On the other, Aaron Gibson was laughing maniacally while Christopher Baroty sat dying at Monson’s feet. All this as the beast’s attention constantly flickered back to where Monson was standing.

Baroty’s arm began to radiate heat as light completely encased his arm. Monson recoiled as the bright strobe in front of him threw Gibson’s countenance into relief. Gibson grinned as he removed his combat glove.

“It was you,” stated Monson matter-of-factly.

Gibson chuckled once more. “It was I.”

Monson’s eyes narrowed as his hands tensed on the blade. He gestured at where Baroty lay. “Why?”

“Ahh. It is not why, Mr. Grey, but
who
. That is the question you should be asking. Who, because the who encompasses the why. Who is the very essence.
o
nly if you have the who can you understand the why.”

Monson’s eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits. Word games…this man was playing word games. He tried not to get angry. “OK, then
–
who are you?”

Gibson dropped the combat glove on the ground. “Who am I? I am the cause of this war. The instigator of Baroty Bridge and the man who has kept you alive. ”

Monson gritted his teeth but attempted to remain calm. “You caused this war?”

“Ahh, yes.
i
t was I who manipulated Baroty, H.U.M.A.N.E. and your Magi guardians from the House of Artisay
not to mention
your female lawyer from the Clan Carabintha.
It was all done by me
. I caused this skirmish as a precursor to my master’s war, just as my master required it.

“I must say, I did not plan for it all to go this well. Two of the Inner Circle will fall, destroyed in their foolish quest. The Heart of the Midday Darkness has been revived and
is
under my command to wreak havoc on this world and to make way for his coming. And foremost among my accomplishments, I found one of the Insightful thriving here on Earth, and in a time when we had almost given up hope of their continued existence.
a
nd let me not forget the absolute icing: the knowledge that his beloved has finally been found. I don’t know what it is you have done, boy, nor why they have all gathered around you, but you have my thanks nonetheless.”

Monson had no idea what this
crazed
man was talking about. Insightful? Beloved? Who was this
whack
-a-doo
?

The Heart of the Midday Darkness roared, rendering Gibson’s next words barely audible.
“Well, young hero, O Being of Seven Bloods
,
I
bid you farewell.
I
suggest you leave before you are destroyed along with the rest of this valley.”

Monson fidgeted uncomfortably, swearing he must have heard wrong. “You bid me farewell? That’s it? After all you’ve put me through you’re just going to walk away. What does that mean?”

Gibson, his back already to Monson, glanced over his shoulder. “It means that there are still things for you to accomplish.
y
our death will come, but at a time and place of my master’s choosing, when all requirements have been fulfilled—that reminds me.” Monson blinked, and in that time Gibson moved from at least a dozen feet away to right in front of him, so quickly that Monson barely had time to comprehend the movement. Gibson’s golden Magi Blade, which looked just like Brian Gatt’s, arced parallel to the ground up towards Monson’s chest. Monson took a step back, barely avoiding a killing blow. He countered with his Breath of the Dragon, but Gibson was already out of reach, a large piece of fabric from Monson’s shirt hanging from the tip of his glinting golden sword. Gibson reached into the pocket of the torn shirt to pull out Marques Grey’s shiny silver stone. He stared at the stone, running his fingers along the cracks and crumbling pieces. His face paled as the silver faded right before their eyes.

Monson watched curiously, not only at the
expression
of Gibson but also at the stone? How did it break? 

Gibson stared at the stone, his expression now livid.
“
You’ve destroyed his Creation Stone.”

“So it
was
a Creation Stone.” Monson took a step closer, his voice taking on a nonchalant, playful tone. “If I’d known it was a Creation Stone I would have sold it on eBay months ago. You magic people seem to go gaga over that stuff.”

“Do you know what you’ve done, you impertinent brat?” barked Gibson, almost screaming. “He will not forgive this failure. I must contact him and inform him of this development.”

Monson bit at his upper lip as he attempted to understand Gibson’s words. Aaron Gibson sounded very, very afraid, and his fear was evident in his expression as he looked around him. Monson’s gaze followed Gibson’s, taking in the whole of the destruction.

Off in the distance Monson saw Casey, Artorius, Taris and Cyann fighting side by side with commandos, H.U.M.A.N.E. and the injured Brian Gatt. In the air, Legon and the other Dragoons of H.U.M.A.N.E. desperately fought to keep the Midday Darkness at bay. Again and again the fighting coalition attacked and countered the massive beast, but bit by bit the beast took down Dragoons, swept aside lines of commandos, drowned H.U.M.A.N.E. fighters in gallons of black ooze, and crushed others with blows from its claws.

Monson’s gaze lingered a little too long as once again Gibson was upon him. Monson took a heavy kick to the side of his chest and flew several dozen feet, losing his sword and rolling many times until he finally came to a halt. His sudden loss of momentum brought a host of new sensations, most of which were painful. A burning in his side told him that the kick had probably broken a rib or two and maybe his collarbone. Meanwhile, through the haze of mist and heat, Aaron Gibson dodged in and out of crowds of fighting soldiers, cutting down any that stood in his way, including Baroty’s commandos. Monson felt his anger mount.