The Crossover (9 page)

• • •

“What’s that?” Terry Lewis asked, pointing at something sticking out of the sidewalk ahead.

“Looks like some kind of knife,” said BJ, jogging ahead. He pulled a bronze dagger out of the crack between two slabs. “Wow. Hell of a nice pig-sticker. Not too smart, leavin’ it here.” He ran his thumb over the edge, then jerked it back. “Damn, that’s
sharp
!” He ran the blade over the back of his beefy arm. “You can shave with this.”

Freddy smiled. “That’s—it belongs to one of the security guys. He’s just letting us know he’s waiting for us, somewhere up ahead.”

“Then he’s stupid,” said Hunter. “Now we’ll be ready for him.”

“You haven’t seen these guys work. I know you won’t believe me, and you won’t even when you’re dying in whatever way they’ve got planned for you.”

“Shut up, or you’ll be the first one dead.” Hunter jabbed the pistol at Freddy, then looked at his companions. “What are you looking at? He’s bluffing. Keep moving.”

Lodrán, a shadow among shadows, watched as the thug marveled at his knife.
If I had that crossbow
, he thought,
I could turn their Hunter into prey. The others would likely run
. But no matter; Chelinn was about to make things uncomfortable for them. The two of them could carry out Freddy’s threat, but Chelinn’s way was the bloodless rout or surrender. Lodrán long knew how Chelinn preferred to minimize bloodshed.

Chelinn was magically cloaked, but the enemy was looking everywhere but where he was. Ground wasps—or what Chuck and Freddy called “yellow jackets”—darted back and forth, knowing an intruder was near their nest, but not finding him. He reached out with his mind and spoke to the wasps.

Hunter cursed and nearly dropped his gun, slapping his hand. But the yellow jacket was already circling his head.

Terry Lewis broke and ran. “I’m allergic!” he yelled, dashing ahead. “I’ll see you at the car!” Moments later, two more wasps found their marks: BJ’s left leg, behind the knee; the back of Sam’s neck.

“Move, move!” Hunter snarled, jabbing Freddy with the gun. They all ran, BJ limping, until the wasps were left behind. “We’re almost there. Are you allergic too?”

“No. Just hurts.” BJ rubbed the back of his leg. Sam shook his head.

“Good. Our hostage got lucky, I guess. We’re almost there anyway.”

They turned into an office parking lot. “Where’s Terry?” asked Sam.

“Our tires!” BJ spat a curse and ran to the car. “His friend musta cut ‘em! All four!”

Hunter hooked an arm around Freddy’s neck, then held the gun to his head. “That’s it!” he yelled. “Show yourself, or your friend is dead!”

“Behind you.”

Hunter spun around, using Freddy as a pivot, to face a man taller and broader even than his beefy friends. The sword he carried looked deadly.

“I cede to you the right to shed first blood,” said Chelinn. “But Hell shall take what is left of you soon after.”

“Nice dress-up,” said Hunter. He turned the gun on Chelinn and fired.

Chelinn winced and scowled. “No blood was drawn. But Death does not require the shedding of blood. That is all the warning I give you.”

Hunter released Freddy, but kept the gun on him, and stepped to one side. “For a world where magic is all but stamped out, you’re a rather powerful sorcerer. How did I miss you?”

Chelinn raised one eyebrow, but showed no other sign of surprise, then smirked. “Perhaps you did not.”

“Another world, then? Which? And why are you here?”

“I would rather not say which, until I know your intentions better. As for why? We are here quite by accident. And what of you?”

“I am The Hunter. It is my sworn duty to root out the use of magic, wherever that duty calls me.” He smirked in return. “This posting has been somewhat soft, these last few centuries. But perhaps once I deal with you, I can start on your world.”

“My world has taken its first steps on a path that shall lead to the end we see in this one. With or without you, magic will be but a memory in a millennium. But why involve yourself in such a sordid enterprise? Scheming to kill hundreds of innocents for whom magic is but a fantasy?”

Hunter spat. “Those fools long for the return of magic. If they are left to search unchecked, they may rediscover the door. I put the last true witches to the fire on this world… and a few, I admit, who were not witches, but no matter. As for your world? From the looks of your weapons, you are still mired in the Bronze Age!”

“We can work iron, what little we have. And although the lives of innocents are of no matter to you, is it no matter that while you have one of my people, I have one of yours?”

“I will let this one go. If you surrender yourself to me.”

“Me? I have your oaf. You have my oaf. I would think oaf for oaf would be fair trade, no?”

“My oaf has served his purpose. His fate now matters little to me.”

“Hey!” BJ and Sam said together. “Terry’s our kin, he matters to us!” They both drew pistols, and pointed them at Hunter.

“Hey there!” Sam called past Hunter to Chelinn. “Big hombre! If we turn your friend loose, you promise to let my cousin go?”

“Of course.”

“Let him go, Hunter,” said BJ, aiming at Hunter’s head.

Hunter did not turn or even glance back at his former companions. “Your threats are hardly worth dismissing, let alone considering. Leave us.”

BJ pulled the trigger, frowned, then stepped closer and shot again. He scowled and looked at his pistol. “No way I coulda missed!”

Chelinn shook his head. “You are dedicated to the eradication of magic, and yet use magical protection yourself? I believe the word is
hypocrisy
.”

“Sometimes, one must use the weapons of evil to fight evil.” Hunter turned around. “Go. Take him with you.” He waved the pistol at Freddy in a dismissive gesture. “What any of you do next is not my concern.”

“C’mon, Sam,” said BJ, pistol dangling from his hand, “this just got weirder than I wanna deal with.” He looked at Freddy. “You too, I guess. Can you help us find Terry?”

Freddy nodded and joined them; they ran to the assumed safety of the trees.

“Much better,” Chelinn told Hunter. “One on one.”

“I thought you would prefer it this way.”

Chelinn nodded. “You have that much honor, and I will return honor for honor.” He hefted Gonfanlon, his glowing bronze blade. “Shall I put this away, or do you have a weapon to match it?”

“I have.” Hunter threw his pistol aside then raised his hand skyward. A gigantic silver sword grew from his hand, looking much like an elongated meat cleaver. Electrical discharges crawled across it like frenzied worms, then faded away.

“Lightning Silver?” Chelinn looked impressed.

“Indeed. The greatest weapon to ever be forged by Air magic, it is said.” The air crackled as Hunter swung it in front of him. “But nothing like the weapons forged by the smiths of this world. The bomb we planted would have destroyed the auditorium and part of the adjacent hotel. But these mad fools have created weapons that could wipe away this entire city, and they have thousands. Were they to be used all at once, this entire world would be left a cinder.” Hunter grinned. “Incredible, the power that can be unleashed when we put aside childish things.”

“I believe… I need a drink.” Chelinn fumbled in his jacket for a moment, then withdrew a flask. “Would you like to share a toast?”

“I prefer to fight sober. But do indulge yourself.”

Chelinn nodded and upended the flask, drinking down magic that would give him preternatural strength and speed. “Ah. Better. Shall we dance?”

BJ, Sam, and Freddy reached the trees and turned to see a gigantic sword spring from Hunter’s hand. “Shoot,” said Sam, watching Chelinn upend his flask, “I could use some of that myself.”

“I have no drink,” said Lodrán behind them, “but I’ll offer you a trade. My knife for your friend.”

BJ and Sam gasped and spun around. “Where the hell did you come from?”

“The shadows.” Lodrán stepped back, and disappeared. “Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah, sure.” BJ lifted the knife from his belt and gave it a gentle toss in the direction of Lodrán’s voice. “Now where’s Terry?”

Lodrán stepped forward, retrieved his knife, and pointed it upward. “As some of your people say, hanging out.” They looked up to find Terry, dangling from a tree limb, bound and gagged but alive and as comfortable as one could be in his position.

“Okay, I’m going!” Chuck flapped a hand at the cops ushering him away from the auditorium. “My car’s over there, okay?”

“Fine. Just get in and drive away.” The cop gave him a final poke in the back. “Don’t dawdle!”

Chuck reached his car and opened the trunk—as far as he could tell, they had packed everything. He collapsed the hand truck and laid it on top of the boxes.

“Where the hell are you guys?” he asked, starting the car. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about Lodrán. His porn-star mustache, his outfit, his knives…

Chelinn took his “ready” stance, and Hunter charged. Lightning Silver crashed into Gonfanlon with a peal of thunder, throwing sparks and tiny bolts of lightning. Above them, clouds began to gather. Chelinn sidestepped, impossibly fast, but his counterstroke was met by an equally swift parry.
 

“You leave nothing to chance.” Hunter smiled.

“Against an unknown opponent, who should be here no more than I? It would be foolish to do anything else.”

“Indeed. Lightning Silver destroys most weapons at first strike. No matter how well-crafted, that is no inert blade of bronze.”

“Gonfanlon is no legend, but it serves.”

Again, the two blades crashed together.

Lodrán glanced around him, feeling like he was being watched.
If I didn’t know better
, he thought,
I’d think Chelinn was looking for me
. He gasped.

“Freddy,” he said. “Come with me.” They walked toward the street, Lodrán looking for a landmark.

BJ looked at Sam and Terry. “You think they’ll be lookin’ for us?”

“I’d assume so,” said Sam. “If they know about the bomb, they’ll be askin’ all the employees what we saw.” The others nodded and they ran for BJ’s truck.

In his mind, Chuck saw Lodrán standing outside, in front of a brick building. No, a brick office park sign. There was an office park just up the street… “Gotcha!” He jerked the gearshift into Drive; his tires chirped as he roared out of the parking lot.

“If we hadn’t told him to move it, I’d give him a ticket for that,” said one of the cops.

Chelinn considered the situation as he parried another slash. Hunter’s blade was the stronger of the two, but Chelinn had the advantages of stamina and personal strength. Their skills were equally matched otherwise. He would prevail, unless Gonfanlon shattered first. Gonfanlon was sturdy and trustworthy, but he had never crossed blades with a weapon of Lightning Silver’s repute.

Hunter tried to break away for a breather; Chelinn pressed him.
An opening is all I need
, he thought.
Quickly
.

Lodrán waved wildly as Chuck screeched to a stop. “What’s going on?” Chuck yelled through an open window.

“Chelinn and Hunter are fighting a duel in the parking lot!” Lodrán pointed up the bank.

“That dude’s sword is
huge
!” Freddy yelled from up the bank, where he could see the fight. “He and Chelinn both have that magic thing going, where guns don’t work on ‘em! And God, they’re fast—I don’t know how we can help!”

The clang and rumble of swords rolled into the street once more. Chuck stomped the gas pedal, tires squealing as he turned into the office park.

Chelinn ducked under Lightning Silver, slashing at Hunter’s legs, but Hunter jumped and both swords whistled as they sliced only air. Both men thought, almost at once,
I need to end this soon
. Chelinn stood just in time to parry a counterstrike. The clash of swords masked the sound of rubber on pavement.

Hunter’s back was to the parking lot entrance, so it was Chelinn who saw Chuck’s car fishtail up the driveway. Chelinn’s eyes widened, and Hunter grinned at an apparent sign of weakness. He threw himself into a final frenzied attack, slashing wildly—

As the car roared toward them, Chelinn stumbled and fell backwards. Gonfanlon flew from his hand, and Chelinn displaced himself six feet backwards. Hunter, ears no longer overwhelmed by the clangor of their duel, turned to see the car bearing down on him—too late. The bumper took out Hunter’s legs, flinging him into the windshield, then over the roof. Lightning Silver spun away, booming to the pavement. Hunter tumbled through the air and came down on his head, landing with a sickening
crack
.

• • •

Chuck clambered out of his car, looking everywhere but at Hunter. “Is everyone all right?”

“All but one,” said Chelinn, retrieving Gonfanlon. He crossed the parking lot to where Lightning Silver fell, but a scorch mark was all that remained. “How did you find us?”

“That spell you taught me. I focused on Lodrán, and saw him here.”

“Well done, then.” As Freddy and Lodrán rushed to join them, Chelinn knelt to survey Hunter’s injuries. “Not good,” he said, shaking his head. “His neck and legs are broken, and his skull is crushed. Had he not come down on his head, I could have done something for him.”

“Thank The Hand,” said Lodrán, “When you fell, I thought I’d lost my bet.”

“You placed a wager on our duel?”

“Only with myself. If I’d lost that bet, though, I’d have been stuck here for good.”

“Is that so bad?” asked Freddy.

Lodrán shrugged. “Chuck tells us that we would be considered ‘illegal immigrants’ by the authorities here. I live in the shadows, but there are times when one must walk in the sunlight.”

“That’s no big deal. I know a guy who could forge you a complete identity, put you in the system and everything, for four hundred bucks. The cops could run your ID all day and not find a thing wrong with it.”

“We have more pressing issues,” said Chuck. “I just killed someone with my car.”

“Can they connect you with this, noted Robinson?”

“Yeah. They’ll get DNA samples. I could wash my car, but I’d probably miss a spot and the damage would… would…” Chuck staggered to the curb and vomited into the shrubs and pine straw.