Stone Soldiers 1: Mythical (17 page)

Still bucking wildly, rear legs clawing at the air, Ketzkahtel now was trying to scratch Kenslir off with his front paws- like a dog trying to dislodge a tick. The long claws ripped through Kenslir’s pants, cut his legs- but he still held his grip.

“Mark!” Josie yelled. She stepped forward, holding the axe by the end of its handle with both hands. Turning in a half circle, she threw the axe, directly toward Kenslir and the dragon.

Kenslir turned his head and saw the axe flying toward him. It bounced on the concrete, sliding toward him. Kenslir released the dragon, and rolled out from under it, toward the axe.

Free of his unwanted rider, Ketzkahtel sprang up, flipping over and landing on all fours. He flared his wings out, and tilted his head back, letting loose a primordial scream of rage.

Kenslir scooped up the axe and turned to face the dragon as it opened its mouth and unleashed a stream of fire at him.

Kenslir swung the axe around, like a baseball bat, the head of the axe turned so the side, not the edge, struck the dragon on the side of the head. The blow was so terrific it almost broke the wooden axe handle. The dragon’s head was knocked violently to the side with the
crack
of steel on bone.

The dragon’s head arced around, streaming fire harmlessly away from Kenslir. Several chairs and toppled umbrellas ignited as the stream of flames passed over them. The dragon’s head and neck swung around with such force Ketzkahtel found himself looking back, at his own tail.

As the dragon recovered from the blow, his blast of fire expended, Kenslir stepped in close with the axe reared back, over his shoulder. Kenslir struck down with the axe, slamming the cutting edge into the joint where the dragon’s left wing connected with its body.

The axe chopped through the leathery, red skin, bone and tendons in one chop. Blood sprayed out as the huge wing of the dragon was severed from its body.

Ketzkahtel screamed in pain, whipping his head around and unleashing another stream of fire- directly into Kenslir’s face.

At such close range, the fire was like a burning, hurricane force wind- it pushed Kenslir off his feet and out into the pool. He felt his hair, his skin and even his eyes melt under the terrific heat, then he splashed down into the water, still gripping the axe.

Kenslir touched down on the bottom of the pool- his chest, shoulders, neck and face had already begun healing, turning to stone as they reformed. His vision came back, as his regenerated eyes turned back to flesh.

On the edge of the pool, Ketzkahtel shook with fury and pain. He glanced down at his severed wing, which lay twitching, partially on the concrete patio, partially hanging down limply in the water. Ketzkahtel stepped closer to the edge of the pool, fire swelling in his throat.

Kenslir leaped up from the water, his flesh restored, his hair and eyebrows starting to regenerate. He was once again shirtless, and his Christian fish pendant gleamed in the sunlight. As did the blade of the axe, held over his head.

Kenslir threw the axe, sending it arcing, end over end toward the dragon.

Ketzkahtel unleashed another stream of fire at Kenslir. The plume of flames passed harmlessly over the tumbling axe, then washed over Kenslir who this time squeezed his eyes shut.

The thrown axe emerged from the stream of flame and slammed into Ketzkahtel’s forehead, right above and between his dragon eyes. The axe head, designed for chopping through steel doors in an emergency, cleaved skin and bone, burying itself to the handle.

The dragon’s flame sputtered out as its eyes rolled up in its head. As the dragon slumped lifeless to the concrete pool patio, Kenslir splashed back down into the water, once again beginning the regeneration of all his burns.

Kenslir swam to the edge of the pool, away from the dragon, closer to Josie. He stood up out of the water, skin regenerated, hair slowly growing again. His pants were bloody and ripped. His legs, now fully regenerated, were covered in just long strips of blood-stained fabric.

Josie ran to the edge of the pool to see if Mark was okay.

Agent Keen stepped away from the wall of the hotel and waved for his men to come out. Five agents tentatively stepped out of the broken window. The five approached the felled dragon slowly, pistols drawn and ready.

Kenslir stood on the submerged steps of the pool, letting his body draw in the water so he could finish his regeneration. His fresh, light skin darkened back to its tan color.

“Are you okay?” Josie asked.

Kenslir held up a finger and turned his head to the side. He spit out a liter of water, his lungs fully regenerated now from the fire he had inadvertently inhaled. His eyebrows and flattop grew back into place.

“I need another shirt,” Kenslir said. He stepped up out of the pool, Josie moving out of his way.

By the dragon, Keen and his agents were leaning in close, watching it closely. They had all holstered their weapons. Suddenly, the dragon’s eyes opened.

The dragon lifted its head, the axe falling out as it began to quickly shrink back into Ketzkahtel’s natural form- the giant.

The panicked agents all leapt back, clawing at their holstered pistols. Ketzkahtel swept his long, six-fingered arms out, knocking the six humans off their feet. Two were knocked into the pool.

Ketzkahtel grabbed Keen, spinning the agent around and pulling him in close, like a human shield. Ketzkahtel quickly shrank down to the form of the telepath Echo and hid behind Keen.

Kenslir stepped around in front of Josie, while Keen’s three agents suddenly stiffened and spasmed briefly. All three agents then rose slowly, robotically, to their feet. They drew their pistols and aimed them at Kenslir and Josie.

Kenslir turned around, pushing Josie down to a crouching position and stooped over, shielding her with his body. The agents began to fire their weapons.

Josie could just feel the impact of the bullets as they slammed into Kenslir’s back, shaking his body with each hit. But Kenslir remained unmoving, ignoring the hail of bullets tearing into his back.

When the agents had emptied their pistols, Kenslir quickly turned around and began to walk toward them. Josie could see at least twenty wounds in Kenslir’s back. Even the back of his head dripped blood. For a moment.

As Kenslir stormed over to the closest of the agents, all of whom were methodically reloading their weapons, Josie could see lead fragments pushing out of the wounds in his back.

As the first agent finished his reload, he extended his arm, aiming the pistol at Kenslir. Before he could fire, Kenslir grabbed the agent with both hands, crushing the agent’s gun hand, and lifting him off his feet. Without even slowing his pace, Kenslir threw the agent up and over his shoulder. The agent landed hard at Josie’s feet, his gun clattering out of a broken hand and onto the concrete by her feet.

The next mind-controlled agent was ready, and stepped in as Kenslir reached him. He began firing his pistol as rapidly as he could, pumping rounds directly into Kenslir’s chest.

Kenslir ignored the bullets tearing through his skin, flattening against his ribs or punching holes in his stomach and intestines. He swatted the agent aside as though he were hitting a mosquito. Bones broke as the agent was sent hurtling over the pool. He splashed down in the deep end.

The third agent was now firing as well. Ketzkahtel maneuvered him into a solid shooting stance, carefully aiming at Kenslir’s face. Bullets began to fly.

Kenslir ignored the first few rounds that tore into his lips, struck his teeth. He lunged forward and let loose an uppercut punch.

The agent caught the punch in his chest- it doubled him over and lifted him off his feet. Kenslir let his fist push against the agent, sending him up and over Ketzkahtel’s head. The agent struck the ground behind the shapeshifter and his hostage, unconscious.

Ketzkahtel smiled nervously.

Suddenly, Keen lifted his pistol. But instead of aiming at Kenslir, the mesmerized agent jammed the pistol into his own mouth.

“Stop! Or I'll kill this man!” Ketzkahtel said with Echo’s voice. He knew these modern humans cared about one another.

Kenslir, now just fifteen feet away from Ketzkahtel stopped. He shoved both hands in the pockets of his tattered pants. His face was already turning back to flesh, the bullet wounds healed.

“Put your hands up!” Ketzkahtel screamed.

Kenslir shrugged, then whipped both hands out with blinding speed. His left hand opened and he released his old, partially-melted Kabar in an underhand throw. The knife streaked across the short gap between them faster than Ketzkahtel could react. It speared directly into Ketzkahtel’s eye, the six-inch blade driving deep into his brain.

Ketzkahtel staggered back, releasing his mental and physical hold on Keen. The freed agent collapsed to the ground, unconscious. In the pool, two of Keen’s men tried to help their fallen comrade Kenslir had batted out of his way.

Ketzkahtel recovered his footing and stood up straight. He reached up and casually pulled the Kabar from his eye.

“Well, played, Colonel,” the shapeshifter said. “But now I have a knife.”

From behind Kenslir, still standing by the fallen Secret Service agent he had thrown there, Josie spoke. “And I have a gun.”

Kenslir turned around and saw Josie holding the fallen agent’s pistol in both hands. She trembled slightly as she tried to aim the pistol at Ketzkahtel.

Ketzkahtel smiled. He transformed from Echo into the shape of Josie’s best friend since kindergarten, Jimmy.

“You wouldn't shoot me, would you?” Jimmy taunted Josie. He stood there, naked- defenseless except for Kenslir’s knife he clutched in one hand.

Kenslir turned back to Ketzkahtel and saw the form he had taken.

Josie’s lips trembled and she tried to hold back tears. She knew too well that if the shapeshifter could take this form it could only mean Jimmy was dead. Jimmy, who had never wanted to go along on this adventure. Who’d secretly had feelings for her all these years.

“That was the wrong body to take,” Kenslir told the shapeshifter.

Josie knew it wasn’t her friend Jimmy looking at her. She squeezed the trigger of the pistol. The shot went wide, ricocheting off an umbrella pole behind and to the right of Ketzkahtel.

The shapeshifter was impressed the human could even try to shoot her friend. Maybe she didn’t know just how much this Jimmy had been in love with her. But enough was enough. Ketzkahtel threw down Kenslir’s Kabar knife.

“Enough!” the shapeshifter yelled. He quickly transformed back to his giant form.

“I will consume you both!”

The transformation continued, the giant’s huge body turning red, swelling, growing scales. His neck stretched as his head swelled and formed the dragon’s head. The giant’s limbs swelled, forming the four legs of the fire-breathing monster. A tail and one wing sprouted from its back.

Kenslir immediately noticed this. The dragon now only had one wing. The other was still laying on the side of the pool.

“So... there are limits to what you can regenerate,” Kenslir told the dragon.

Ketzkahtel glanced over his left shoulder. Of course his wing was still severed. He didn’t have the energy left to completely restore this, his favorite stolen form. But he didn’t need wings. He would burn them both alive, then burn them to ash.

Ketzkahtel turned back to Kenslir and opened his mouth wide, roaring in fury. Kenslir sprinted forward, legs carrying him almost twice as fast as the fastest Olympic runner.

The fire in Ketzkahtel’s throat swelled out, directly toward Kenslir- who dropped to the deck, sliding under the flames. Fire burned off Kenslir’s flattop, passing over him and missing Josie by several feet.

The flames splashed against the windows on the back of the hotel, making the assembled reporters and patrons recoil in fear. But the glass held, blackening under the terrific heat.

Kenslir slid up under the dragon’s front legs. He smashed his right hand into the dragon’s chest, his fingers held flat, knife-like. Kenslir felt scales shatter, flesh part from his blow. He punched through the dragon’s chest and deep into its body.

Ketzkahtel’s stream of fire ended and he threw back his head and screamed in pain. He felt Kenslir’s stone-hard fingers wrap around his dragon heart. No one had ever thought to do this to the shapeshifter before. He felt fear.

Ketzkahtel reared up on his hind legs, trying to get away from Kenslir. But the Colonel held his grip, his arm buried to the elbow in the dragon’s chest. Now standing, he placed his feet on the concrete and ripped his arm back out.

The shapeshifter’s heart was torn free.

Kenslir looked down at the dragon heart, almost as large as a basketball, dripping blood and still beating.

Ketzkahtel
staggered back on his hind legs. Then he began to shrink, transforming into his giant form. But instead of being a whole giant, the shapeshifter still had a gaping hole in his chest, blood pouring out.

“Regenerate that,” Kenslir said, noticing the dragon heart had shrunk as well, transforming back into the giant’s heart.

Ketzkahtel staggered back on his feet. He was weak. Shock showed on his face. He could not believe what had just happened. He fell backwards, crashing down on an overturned table. It held him up, in a seated position, his legs sprawled out in front of him.