Cursed

“Sonder, this really isn’t a good time,” I said absently. “Can I call you back?” Thirty-round magazine, bullets weren’t ricocheting … too difficult to land a hit. I sent another burst blind around the corner, then shrugged off my pack and rooted through for the last grenade.

The return fire was longer this time, bullets slamming into the wall to my right and embedding themselves in the soft stone, the noise drowning out Sonder’s reply. I twisted the pin from the grenade and waited for the guard’s magazine to run dry.

Click. The guard dropped, fumbling for a reload, and I leant out. I got a brief view of an open room with an overturned desk, shadows flickering as a light swung from a cord overhead, then I lobbed the grenade to bounce off the far wall and ducked back. There was a brief scream from behind the desk before the explosion cut it off. “Great,” I said into the radio. “Keep me posted.” I dropped it into my pocket.

The grenade had made a mess of the room and I searched it quickly, trying not to look at what was left of the guard. From above I could hear the roar of fire spells, muffled through the concrete. Cinder wasn’t having it all his own way and the chattering bursts of automatic weapon fire were answering him. I couldn’t sense any ice attacks, which meant Belthas wasn’t joining the battle. If he hadn’t come by now, it meant he was close to finishing; we didn’t have much time. I spotted a ring of keys beneath a splintered piece of desk and snatched it up, hurrying forward. “Luna!” I shouted.

A faint voice echoed from down the corridor. “Alex! I’m here!”

I was already running towards it, passing a side corridor along the way. Just before the corridor bent to the left were a set of four metal doors, two on each side, solid metal with heavy reinforcement. They didn’t have any windows, but each one had a narrow metal hatch at eye level. I flipped the catch and slid the hatch open with a rattle.

Luna was inside and as I saw her I felt a wave of relief that made me weak at the knees. For all that I’d seen her in Elsewhere, for all that I’d known Belthas wouldn’t have her killed without a reason, seeing her in the flesh made me feel a hundred times better. Luna looked a little pale, her hair was untidy and her clothes scuffed and torn, but as she saw me she gave one of her rare smiles. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I said, and I realised I was smiling too. “How’s things?”

“Been better,” Luna said. “Any chance you could get me out of here?”

“Just waiting for you to ask.” The room was a prison cell, crudely furnished, and the door had bolts at top and bottom. I drew them back with a scrape of metal. “Where’s Deleo?”

Luna shook her head. “They took her away a couple of hours ago.”

I was just about to start going through the keys when something flickered on my precognition. I looked at what was coming and rolled my eyes. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Luna sighed. She’s been with me long enough to get used to this. “I’m guessing that’s not good news.”

“Here.” I pushed the keys through the open hatch, hearing them clink on the concrete, and stepped away. “Be right back.”

Martin was about forty feet down the side corridor when I leant round the corner, my gun lining up to sight on him. “Martin,” I said. “Give me a reason not to shoot you.”

Martin was wearing a set of black combat gear, probably borrowed from Belthas’s men, along with a webbing belt that was slightly too big for him. He looked like an action movie actor trying very hard to pretend he was the real thing. He flinched as he saw the barrel of the gun, then shook it off and grinned. “Oh, hey, Alex. Thought it was you.”

The laser sight was steady on the black fabric covering Martin’s chest and my trigger finger itched. “I’ve just killed a half dozen people whom I had less reason to want dead than you,” I said quietly. “You’ve got a gun behind your back. Drop it.”

Martin’s grin widened and he lifted the gun. I fired before he got halfway.

Tendrils of shadow whipped out, thread-thin, and there was the crack of ricocheting bullets. Martin’s gun finished coming up and I fired another burst. Still nothing. I emptied the rest of the magazine into him. Black shadows flickered and I saw sparks flash but Martin stayed standing until my gun clicked empty. I stared at Martin. No wounds, no blood. What the hell?

“My turn,” Martin said and fired.

Martin was firing an automatic, a fairly powerful one from the sound. Luckily his aim sucked and none of his shots would have hit even if I hadn’t ducked behind the corner. I ejected the empty magazine, pulled out a spare, and snapped it into the handle as Martin’s shots bounced uselessly round the corridor. While my hands worked automatically, I tried to figure out what was going on. Martin didn’t have any magic of his own so how could—

Oh, God damn it.

The bang bang bang of fire from around the corner ended, and as the echoes died away I heard Martin laughing. “Figured it out yet?” he called. “You can’t touch me!”