Chapter 39
Resonance Myst, if applied in a tailored way, can temporarily enhance the mind or body, increasing brain processing or physical speed. However, both abilities can be dangerous, causing serious damage to the affected region—brain damage, memory loss, or damage to muscle tissue, bone, and even the heart.
Day 381, Quenchenday
I stood in the center of the room, Rose to my left. The tingling from the hemo-pills had subsided. I was as close to top form as I could get. I stretched and double-checked the straps on my Catlar. I had happily been surprised to find my Mystwell capacity had jumped from thirteen to twenty-three.
Rose performed her own stretches. Thallos watched with mild disinterest, his eyes half-lidded. As he watched, Rose leaned in. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for telling your uncle,” she hissed seductively. “While I don’t want you dead, I still have every intent of burying your face under my boot.”
I reflexively gulped. She leaned back with an innocent smile. “So do your best, horn-boy.” Her voice was bubbly and light.
She skipped away, selecting her weapon. My gut clenched when she pulled a Serpent Sword from the display, its bladed segments bound by a wire-thread cable.
Thallos had armed himself. A bandolier of throwing daggers crossed his chest. The hilt of a bastard sword peeked over his shoulder. At his hip was a shortsword. He checked the cylinders of a kinetic revolver, his belt lined with quick-reload packs. He had never used a gun before. Magic and a gun. This was going to be tough. I still saw no focus on him.
Rose stepped up, locking her weapon into a solid bar. She took a combat-ready stance. I pulled my Vekenna, mimicking her.
Thallos took his own stance, pistol pointed skyward, shortsword in a reverse grip. “Don’t forget, boy,” he said, his voice calm, “if you can prove yourself, I have something to talk to you about. Prove your worth.”
As he coiled, I saw it: a flicker of silver. A dark ring on his middle finger. A ring focus? A Nightveil?
I went against impulse. I drew a claw of my Catlar along my left forearm, cutting deep. I drew on Distortion and Morphic Myst. Six Vells—one Voltreonic, two Distortion, three Morphic. My blood shimmered vermillion and purple before vanishing.
What I was about to do was what most spellcasters would think insane. But there was a lot of study and testing behind something that would be simple for other casters. I had my brain mapped when I was physically active, when I was intensely focused, when I was thinking hard, and when I was intensely inspecting my surroundings. used those readings to identify what parts of my brain were working when I was doing each of these. I then spent hours of my downtime performing minor practice and experiments to get a firm grip on my idea. This might all leave readers confused as to what I was about to do at this point in the story. So I'll break it down. I used Morphic Myst to enforce my brain's synapses and body muscles, then used a minuscule amount of Lightning Myst and Distortion Myst to speed up my brain's functions to an unnatural degree.
The world slowed. I summoned a tier-one mental boost and a tier-one physical speed enhancement. I knew the risks but didn’t care.
Thallos shifted into a blur, lancing to the wall at my left, then my back. I brought my blade up in defense, sweeping my Vekenna in a tight circle. I felt a strike against my Catlar’s guard. My sweeping blade forced it aside, and I staggered back. I dodged a downward slash. I struck out with an uppercut. He leaned back, dodging, and countered with a kick to my knee. I barely mitigated it by bending with the attack. I caught a flash of motion—Rose. A thrust from her blade, which Thallos parried. Then her hook wrapped around my posting ankle. She yanked, tearing me from my feet.
Thallos aimed his pistol at my chest. I rushed to block, but he fired first. A rubber bullet left a blackening welt on my shoulder. “Bang. You’re maimed,” he mocked. He leaned in, his breath reeking of predatory hunger. “I want to play with my meal.” He aimed at my brow. I bit my lip, drawing blood, and used my last Vells of Kinetic and Distortion Myst, forcing a spell from my lips. Gray power erupted, forcing him back a step.
Rose took advantage, lashing her blade around his calf. As he stepped back, I rolled to my feet. I rolled a mass of blood and mucus in my mouth and charged it with a Vell of Fire. I held it as I drew my Catlar’s claws across my chest, five long slashes. If he wanted a toy, I had to prove my worth. I locked my Vekenna back into my gauntlet. I scooped a fistful of blood and pulled raw elements. Three Vells of Umbra, one of Water, one Morphic, two Wind, and I gambled with two of Death. I pressed the cocktail into the blood.
While I worked, Rose pressed her advantage, stepping in, lashing her blade. Thallos sidestepped and pushed it aside. I flung my hand out. The blood welled into droplets and shot forth like bullets, seven crimson lances. The first struck his shoulder. The rest landed across his chest, rupturing his jacket, the flesh below blackening into dead tissue.
Rose paused, horrified. Thallos calmly unwound his bloody arm, pulling the blade’s edges free. He eyed the necrotic wounds, then flashed me a look of annoyance. “Is that the best you can pull, boy? A ruined shirt and a few spots of gangrene. I expected better.”
That was everything I had. My Mystwell was still refilling. The blood on my chest was still charged, but I needed something bigger.
I watched as he and Rose traded blows. I let them duke it out while I recouped my Vells. Any time Thallos tried to fire at me, Rose pounced.
I had four Vells. I pointed my Catlar at Thallos as he brought his shortsword in a wide arc. A feint. I stepped back and launched my Vekenna. He leaned aside. I wrenched my Catlar left, adjusting the trajectory. The chain made contact with his neck. I took three steps and yanked, using a Vell to magnetize the chain and knuckle guard. His neck acted as a fulcrum, bringing the blade back around toward me. As it closed in, he bent forward, ending the fulcrum. He timed his duck so my Vekenna would nearly strike me. I turned my right side forward and caught it in a reverse grip. With a thought, I set the chain to retract at top speed as I threw a snap kick at his Adam’s apple.
He angled his torso, my kick passing close enough to feel his cheek. He swung a slash at my chest, but I was already turning my failed kick into an evasive tumble. As I came up, Thallos threw his shortsword at me. He was going for a disarm. He had taught me this. I sidestepped, letting it pass. I lashed out with my Catlar. The claws raked his forearm, and he dropped the pistol.
A feint. I knew he had more daggers. He lunged, drawing two. I parried and kicked, but he danced back. I rushed him, my shadow gauntlet forming on my left hand. I threw a punch, he dodged. I followed with a kick. He caught it, spun me, and threw me. I hit the wall, breaking ribs. I landed in a heap, gasping.
He strolled toward me. “Since I couldn’t beat him, I took out my anger on other things,” he said. I felt a vice grip on my ankle. “When my parents found me picking apart a fox, they got worried.” I left the ground. He swung me like a cudgel, the air whistling past, before driving me headfirst into the floor.
When the world stopped spinning, I found I had been released, rolling fifteen feet closer to the elevator. A small hand brushed against mine, slipping something into my palm. I closed my fist around it.
“You know you can’t beat me, boy. Just give in.”
I brandished my catlar. “And join the butcher of my father? I don’t think so.”
“But don’t you want to meet your mother?”
I felt the small device in my palm. “You kill her too?”
“I haven’t. If you join me, we can find her together.”
There was a tug at my leg. I knelt, pretending to lunge. I heard Tessa mutter, “I converted it all. Go win this.” I sneaked a glance into my palm: the myst-storing necklace I gave her. I shifted my shadow gauntlet to expose my lower palm and extended a claw. The bite, the sapping of strength. I focused the trickle of blood, binding it to the necklace. It worked. The blood charged with raw myst. I drove four fingers into my palm until they reached bone.
“Find her? You mean you knew her and lost her?” I asked, relaxing my posture.
“I knew her quite well. She was a member of The Company until she had a disagreement with the board.” He knelt, scooping up the strange contraption.
I counted the charge: thirty Vells, the necklace’s max. I relaxed a little more. “A disagreement about what?”
“Her work. A master of biology, chemistry, alchemy, and spellcraft. She said it was for peaceful times. The board thought it best used to bring global peace.”
As he stepped closer, I continued to spill blood, converting it. Nineteen of the thirty Vells were ready. Ten Umbra, nine Death.
“Did my mother say her perspective?”
“She thought peace through subduing couldn’t lead to anything but disorder.”
“Then where did she go?”
“That’s the issue. She fled, leaving you and her work with Fermose. You need to be ready to kill anyone for the greater good—”
I pulled all thirty Vells—ten Umbra, ten Death, ten Fire—just as the elevator dinged. Thallos turned. I took my chance. I shifted my shadow gauntlet into a whip and channeled all the raw myst into it. It wrapped around his right shin. The cord supercharged with Fire, Umbra, and Death had an immediate effect. I wrenched him off his feet, his pant leg burning to cinders, the leg below rapidly blackening. As it began to disintegrate, he reached back and dispelled the cord.
He pulled himself up as the elevator opened, releasing Mystagogue Thrasher with a massive, black-flaming warhammer; the Mysteriarch with an orb of lightning and a sparking rapier; and a woman I had never met, in black leathers with a longsword and a sickly green glowing morningstar.
