The House of Grey- Volume 6 (6 page)

With trepidation but little hesitation as a theory popped in his head, Monson thrust the lightning-like dagger right into the face of the beast. The beast’s body froze and seized before starting to convulse. Monson let go of the weapon and the three boys watched as it sunk into the black tar spilling out from the wound.

“Grey, move!” Monson felt a large arm pull him back by the waist. Artorius
was wheezing slightly but sounded very calm. “What in the—”

The beast was melting before their very eyes. The black ooze was puddling on the ground and emitting an outrageous stench. Monson arrived at his conclusion and yelled  to the small group in front of them.

“Their weakness is the head! Aim for the head!”

Miraculously, they heard him and did just as he said. Some used guns or swords, others combat gloves; the result, however, was the same. The spells, gunshots, and sword strikes found their marks and the beasts melted into black tar like substance.

Artorius
stepped towards the relieved mix of students and invaders, speaking specifically to the commandos. “Is this going to be a problem?”

He gestured towards H.U.M.A.N.E. and the students. “Or do we need to pick up the fight where we left it?”

One of the lead commandos removed his mask. “Nah, I don’t think we gonna have a problem.”

Casey grinned. “Jim!”

The one-time member of the Men in Black looked at Casey, his expression more than a little concerned. Casey walked right up to him and shook his hand jovially. “I’m so glad your brain didn’t melt. That sometimes happens, you know.”

Jim continued to look confused as Casey’s grin grew to epic proportions. “Kid how do you know my name—
”

Artorius
slapped Casey upside the head. “Idiot, we don’t have time for that.”

Casey glared at him, about to answer, when Monson intervened and addressed Jim directly. “Do you know somewhere you can hide?”

Jim nodded his head.

“Do you know who I am?”

He nodded his head for a second time.

Monson smiled. “Good, then I want you and these people to find somewhere to hide until these things are gone. You are responsible for them. If I find out that anything bad happened, I’m coming to find you. Do you understand me?”

A third nod.

“Then go and don’t look back.”

With Jim in the lead, the group ran for cover.

Monson looked out over the expanse that was Coren’s campus. The gargoyles were all over the place and more were dropping from the sky with each passing moment. Scattered among them were pockets of people fighting to repel the black creatures, all while explosions sounded from every corner as the Midday Darkness did its deadly work.
The campus was being overrun by these things
. They had to do something, but what?

“What’s cooking in that brain of yours, Grey?” Artorius
wiped his huge claymore on the ground to clean off the black ooze.

“I’m working on a theory,” Monson answered reluctantly.

Casey sounded exasperated. “I so could not be a scientist. So are we going to see the fruits of your mental labor before the Midday Darkness turns us and the whole of this valley into a History Channel special?”

“Wow—that was a mouthful.” Monson cocked his eyebrow.

“Hey, I seriously
put a lot of thought into my comments.”

Monson rolled his eyes in response. “I think I have a plan, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“Try us,” spouted Artorius and Casey at the same time.

“Follow me, but stay back.”
Monson charged directly towards the middle of campus.

Much sooner than he would have liked, the gargoyles noticed the three boys running at top speed out into the open. With the gargoyles right on their tail, Monson, Casey and Artorius jumped one of the low stone fences, touched grass, and then hurried forward, dodging in and out of flower beds and bushes.

Artorius
yelled from somewhere behind him, “Grey! If you’re going to execute this brilliant plan of yours, now might be a good time!”

Monson was not listening, instead breathing deeply as he searched for the power of his Kei. He felt it simmering on his skin. Such an odd feeling—and yet the power was real, almost physical; so much like any other body part or sense that he wondered how he had existed without it. But the amount of power, the current level of release was not enough for his plan to work
after
so
much
fighting
and the
Midday Darkness taking its fill
. Monson probed his consciousness for a path that would connect the real world to his inner one, all while the winged devils closed in around them, readying their attack.

Monson briefly closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, saw everything around him with a broken vision, like he was peering through cracked glass. He saw the deadly creatures of legend that had come to destroy everything in their path but at the same time, could clearly envision his own travels through a dark and confined space, a space that was becoming ever more familiar.

Casey attacked from his left, Artorius
from the right, both growling like cornered beasts. Monson fought even as he was touching down in his own inner world. His mountain, his river, his path all spoke to him—coaxing
him, pushing and encouraging him. He bounded forward at their call, stepping onto the river as if it was the most solid of earth and setting off on his path.

He knew what to do; he had always known what to do. He called for the path and its power; he called for it and was all too ready for the answer.

The answer came in a tempestuous torrent. Wind blew, water surged, earth shook, lighting struck, and fire crackled across the sky. All sensation, all power focused in upon Monson, a power that he greedily took in.

Monson punched a gargoyle in the head. He watched the creature slam back with heavy force and yelled to his two friends.

“Casey, Artorius, duck!”

The two hit the ground instantly and without a second thought, Monson let go of his power.  Silver light burst into the foreground, dispelling the ever-enclosing darkness. Gargoyles, trees and stones scattered to the wind. Just like the unseen force inside the Coliseum, pressure pushed down upon everyone around him, the spiritual force driving many to the ground. Just when they all thought that this was to be the end, the light cleared and the pressure relented.

Monson looked out across the grounds, speaking to Artorius
and Casey while he scanned the horizon.

“You guys OK?”

His friends got to their feet and dusted themselves off, also surveying the area. Casey went for his short sword, which was sitting a few feet away, and Artorius
checked the blade of his claymore while keeping an eye on the gargoyles,
which
were slowly moving back in.

Casey returned to the side of Monson and Artorius, short sword in hand. Monson cut him off before he could ask his question.

“I was testing a theory on the Midday Darkness, one that might help at least some people survive.”

The gargoyles were getting closer.

Artorius
and Casey posed aggressively with their blades, the latter speaking over his shoulder.

“And how is that little experiment coming?”

Monson was not sure how to answer his question; the truth was that even after he had released his power, nothing had changed. Maybe he was wrong and the—

A crackling boom high in the sky echoed downward, causing the three boys to grab their ears. The gargoyles looked skyward as if for some sort of sign or heavenly visitation. Another boom resounded, louder and more menacing. The monsters reacted to the noise, though the growling, barking and howling was far from anything interpretable. It did, however, make one thing clear and thus confirmed Monson’s suspicions: The booming echo was directing the creatures. Which became even more apparent when, in a single motion, the heads of every gargoyle turned and looked right at Monson, Casey and Artorius.

“Grey…,” Artorius said with concern. “What did you do?”

Monson smiled ironically. “I gave the predators something to prey on.”

Artorius glared indignantly at the encroaching creatures. “You gave them something to prey on?”

His eyes went wide with comprehension. “You mean that light show just a second ago…?”

Monson nodded. “Yep. I think these things react to strong magical power. If someone releases a lot of Kei then the Midday Darkness will attack them.”

Casey and Artorius retreated towards Monson.

“So these things are all going after you because of all that silver stuff you just released?” asked Casey, adjusting his sword from hand to hand.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” answered Monson, already in the beginning stages of one of his combat spells. “Those things are probably coming after me, which I’m hoping will give the others some time to find cover.”

Artorius held his claymore pointed down, his muscles starting to tense. “So our job is to take these guys on?”

Casey pointed upwards. “Don’t forget the big ones flying out of the Coliseum.”

Monson and Artorius raised their eyes, only to see the large creatures they had left mere minutes ago streaming out of the top of the structure and heading in their direction.

“Grey.”

“Yeah Arthur.”

“If I die without ever having a girlfriend, I swear I am going to come back and haunt you.”

Monson laughed as he finished scripting his spell. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He spoke the words of the spell— “Combat Spell Fifty: Molded Spears”—and
touched the ground to release the spell. The earth moved at his command, shaping and reshaping until several dozen long, pointed rock spears enclosed
the boys in a protective circle of stakes.

“I guess you really did like
300
, eh?” said Casey. “Spartans are awesome. Told you it was a good flick.”

With a second slap of the ground and another whispered phrase, the massive stakes scattered about with deadly accuracy. The spears found their mark, skewering unsuspecting gargoyles where they stood. Casey and Artorius, not to be outdone, followed Monson’s spell with ones of their own. They both launched a series of small, molten fireballs,
flinging
the baseball-like projectiles at machine-gun speed.

Gargoyle after gargoyle fell under the combined pressure of the spells, but still they came;  they were neither cautious nor fearful. Although for a time Monson was quite hopeful— the tactic was working and they were leveling scores of the magical creatures—after the seventh or eighth use of these spells, Monson knew they were in trouble. The spells were tiring him out and his two friends were burning through their Glyian Combat Gloves’ power sources. Not to mention, the spells were losing their potency. He did not know how much longer they would have access to them. Sure enough, after a few more minutes of frantic fighting, Artorius and Casey’s gloves went dead, reduced to magical oven mitts. And still the flocks of gargoyles kept coming, many of the smaller ones and an increasing number of the large ones. The boys were going to be forced to rely on their swords, which was not a promising prospect. They needed to think of something, and fast.

“Do we run?” Monson yelled after completing another combat spell.

Artorius scanned the area, his head swiveling from left to right as he spun on the balls of his feet, releasing another combat spell. “I don’t think there is anywhere
to
run.”

He gripped his claymore more tightly. “I think this might be the last stand, boys; don’t see how we’re getting out of this one.”

Casey threw his combat glove on the ground and sprinted to retrieve a second discarded sword. He quickly retreated to Monson and Artorius as they all stood with their backs to each other.

“If they separate us we’re screwed, so keep it tight.”

Artorius and Monson each took a step back to close the circle. Casey dipped his head in approval.

More gargoyles landed and surrounded the boys; five became ten, ten became twenty, twenty became a whole lot more, while off in the distance, the Midday Darkness let loose more and more of its deadly payload. Monson could see the black pods striking the ground, unfolding their newfound wings, and moving off into different directions. The beady-eyed creatures appeared to have a plan, leaving no room for escape or survival. A roar from the demon nearest them seemed to indicate their readiness for their final assault.

In one motion, the agents of darkness rushed forward. The scene was almost majestic. The creatures charged, unified in purpose, acting as one. It really was too bad that they were going to meet their demise at the hands of these creatures, because there was something to be learned from them.

Monson cast his “Daggers of Light” spell one last time and attacked, knowing there were too many gargoyles for them to fight and still hope to survive.

“Don’t you give up, Grey,” called a disembodied voice. “Not yet.”
Monson smiled, still watching the charging creatures.
I’m not giving up,
he thought.
I just don’t know how we’re going to get out of this.