Leviathan (Fist of Light Series) Page 7

  Hercules, both his predecessor and namesake, weren't known to be pushovers. If he could bench-press an elephant, I would need to get him on his toes, do the unexpected. He would be a close quarters fighter, but rusty in the long disuse of the skills. When one could brain a man in a single blow, people tend to beat a hasty retreat, when they live long enough. Fighting in such close quarters would be a risky maneuver, however, and each blow he struck would have to be redirected perfectly. If they weren't then I'd be tossed like a sack of meal, my defense broken into pieces effortlessly. Shaking the sluggishness away, I made eye contact with Hercules, employing a newly discovered talent. Like sapphire lighthouses, incandescent color flooded my eyes, illuminated from within.

  “Empowered scum. Prepare to die,” Hercules spat in a very anti-Herculean manner.

  My eyes got his attention and put him on his toes, as planned. “People keep telling me I'm going to bite it.” I forced myself to shrug easily, unconcernedly. “Just not feeling it today. Maybe next time.”

  An animal growl was the only indication that the response had been received. As the crowd became hushed and we circled each other warily, I shut off the light show. If this guy wasn't kept on his guard, he would clobber me like the Incredible Hulk. There was no doubt about that. Before bringing up my fists in a ready position, I patted reassuringly at the bottle tucked into a back pocket, crossing mental fingers that it would remain in its position. There wasn't a peep from the crowd as Hercules and I took each other’s measure. A wrong move in the opening phase of this fight would mean death. The stark reality of that thought sobered me up almost completely, and a previously unnoticed haze over my vision lifted.

  One possessed of the ability to break bones with the lightest touch would have no reason to hone his abilities in hand-to-hand combat. With this in mind, the simplistic approach of a wild, undisciplined swing was all but assured and Hercules didn't disappoint. Calling Air to enhance my speed, I dipped under and towards the strike, coming up on the other side of it. Taking advantage of his momentary confusion, I pivoted and threw a well-timed hook to the body. Except my nemesis blurred out of the way before any damage could be done, before the attack even came close. He was fast, very fast. Processing this new information on overdrive, it was clear that I was being tested.

  This time he came at me with well-executed strikes, body shots that would likely turn my insides to mush if they connected. He didn't display the same extraordinary speed as before, which was a main contributing factor to my continued breathing. I redirected the punches easily, instinctively, but didn't take advantage of the openings he gave me. In turn, I also made some purposeful mistakes, but neither of us capitalized on them. I threw some halfhearted strikes but didn't gain much from them, as he was never where my punches ended up, always a hairs breadth away. Although in other cases I might have taken advantage of superior speed and thrown a flurry of blows, retreat, rinse, and repeat, it was too dangerous a move. He would have found a weakness in the approach, and he was far too fast for me to even consider it.

  The fight amped up from there. What became immediately noticeable was the way Hercules played the crowd, masterfully manipulating them into a frenzy, and they eagerly flocked to his shining banner. Then there was no time for anything resembling deep thought. All that was left was to act and react. Sweat streaked freely down my face and no time was spared to wipe it away. Left, right, left hook. Duck, swerve, pivot, redirect punch. Time seemed to blur together and my focus became solely on the little tells in my opponent’s movements, watching for the commencement of a strike, hoping for an opening. I found myself having to gradually increase the amount of power directed to augmenting my speed, as Hercules settled into the fight, brought more and more of his true potential to the fore. Frankly, I didn't know if I'd be a match for him handicapped, secret weapon or not. A simple palm strike blurred toward my chest at light speed. The only thing that saved me from catastrophe was the minute distance needed to redirect a punch. All that needed to happen was a quick thrusting forward of one shoulder and the subsequent hand, allowing the inside of the wrist to provide the small nudge. Play time was over, obviously, and I couldn't help but widen my eyes in realization of just how fast Hercules was. The palm strike impacted my left shoulder, spinning me around like a top and spilling me onto the ground. Blinding pain seared through me. I let the deluge of agony wash over me, to reside impotently with the accumulated hurts of the night. When I'd finally regained control over my body, it was possible to lift my face from the grainy sand, spit profusely and level myself into a standing position. Hercules was unconcerned with any counterattack, bowing deeply to the audience.

  “Might I advise against allowing such a hit to land again?” Jeeves chimed in.

  “He's fast.” I rubbed at my shoulder.

  “Be faster.”

  My nemesis turned from the cheers of his adoring fans to face me once more, a smile plastered firmly on his face. This was his element. He lived and breathed in this arena, every ounce of his essence was tied to its sands. One day, he'd probably die in it and likely be content with such a demise.

  “KILL! KILL! KILL!” the crowd chanted, their collective voice demanding my death.

  “To sustain the power for any period of time, it would—”

  “You must. Without it, you will never be his match.”

  “Looks like your time is up.” Hercules grinned wickedly.

  I made up my mind and siphoned massive quantities of power from the nexus, speeding my movements past anything accomplished. “Then I'll have to make what's left count.”

  Threads of miasmic purple enshrouded my being, an aura that directly interacted with the world, becoming corporeal. Sand was caught up in little dust devils and wind tore at my clothes, everything that was within close proximity. The world around me slowed to a churning amber, a movie played in super-slow-mo. Reaching behind me, I tore off the cap of the water bottle and poured its contents upside down. Droplets beaded on the edge uncertainly then relented to the laws of gravity and fell slowly to the parched earth below. I extended my will and flash-froze the water, forming a simple dagger. That done, I released my grip on my bottle and it began to slowly move towards the earth, as if floating in reverse.

  I reveled in this new speed. Hercules changed pace too slowly, reacted too late. I was on him in a flash, before he matched my speed with his own uncanny abilities. I drove my dagger deeply into his thigh as wispy threads of Air latched onto my opponent’s neck, lashing his hands together and covering his eyes. It took Hercules only a second to switch gears, but here a second was an eternity. He shredded the impromptu manacles without effort and began to tear the remaining strands from his neck and eyes. All I needed was a second. Moving in from behind, I delivered a powerful strike to each of his kidneys, right below the floating ribs. Hercules tried to spin in order to confront me, the restraints occluding his vision and choking him out ripped off, but his injured leg hampered the process. It was all too easy to drop below an undisciplined haymaker and sweep his legs out from under him.

  There was no honor to what followed. There was no joy of the fight, just dark practicality. Pure and simple, I delivered a rain of heavy blows to take Hercules out of commission. The man, the legend, and the descendent crumbled under that hail. When he tried to pull the dagger from his leg and use the weapon against me, it merely melted, harmless droplets that sprayed outwards in slow motion. Just as I prepared to end the fight then and there with a kick to the head that would knock him out cold, the stream of power that augmented my speed vanished, evaporated into the void. My body convulsed, rebelling against impending doom.

  “You siphoned too much.” Jeeves flickered into focus.

  It was nearly impossible to formulate a coherent response, but one was managed, barely. “I need a loan.”

  Jeeves nodded grimly. “I'll expect to be repaid in full at your earliest convenience.”

  Sickeningly, the world returned to normal and the crowd roared i
n protest at the sight of their champion brought low. Then they discovered my plight and cheered all the more fervently for my demise. Blood trickled out of my mouth and I stared into the hazy mass of the supernatural assemblage. Then, as if a light switch had been flipped, energy coursed through my veins once more, and my heart, slow and stagnant before, resumed its frantic thumping. Clarity returned to my vision and the crowd came reluctantly back into focus. A figure jumping up and down, waving frantically caught my attention first. It took my muddied mind a moment to realize who that person was, and another two to piece the rest of the puzzle together. Jas, jumping up and down and pointing, Kathryne and Sanders. Leaving the last out of my thoughts for the moment, I focused on the one element likely to be the most important.

  I put forth a titanic effort to stand, gathering my arms and legs beneath me. Once I was up, it got easier, but only just. The sudden glare of electrical lighting cut painfully into my retinas, and so I squinted to rake the arena. Without any warning, the world began to buck and shake, and it was all I could do to keep my feet. All became elucidated when the lights deemed they would allow me a clear line of sight. Hercules was going berserk on the wall, sending chunks of stone flying. Tilting my head in confusion, it took me another few seconds to consider the reasoning behind such an absurd act. My problem was solved for me when a gigantic slab broke loose, the sigils adorning the wall flashing bright red before dimming and petering out. That slab, likely a few thousand pounds and then some, was hefted like an only moderately troublesome burden before it was tossed through the air in my direction.

  “Dodge,” Jeeves urged. “Dodge!”

  I poked stubbornly at the inactive brain matter sloshing around in my skull, hoping to kick start some processes. Thankfully, some semblance of intelligence came to the fore, enough presence of mind to think that being crushed by a huge chunk of rock would not be beneficial to my health. The lagging servers of my mind abruptly jittered, beeped, and reconnected to the user interface. Pure adrenaline surged through my system, slowing down time the old-fashioned way. With what time was left to dodge the towering piece of rubble thrown at me, the only option was a split second leap out of the line of fire. An earth-shattering rumble and rending denoted the crash landing of the slab into the sand. By the time fractures appeared in the hulking giant of a boulder, it was much too late to change my plans. Two seconds to impact, and great big chunks broke off in a haphazard fashion, expanding outwards in an oversized, deadly cloud of earthen shotgun pellets.

  “Move!” Jeeves screamed, the words garbled and almost incoherent.

  But there was nowhere to move to, not this time. Just as a roll was in its instigating phase, rocks of varying sizes pelted into me, driving me off course and bringing me down. As the onslaught continued, all that could protect me was an insufficient covering of my head and neck with my arms. Only seconds passed before the hail of stones finally ceased, but it was an agonizing eternity. When it was over, I was gasping for breath, in horrendous pain and utterly spent. No light streamed down through the crevices of rock, and air was severely lacking. The roaring in my ears was only surpassed by the near-unanimous cheers of the crowd.

  “Don't you die on me, Caleb!” Jas' voice filtered to me from a far-away place.

  “Well, are you just going to give up? This fight is far from over,” Jeeves said.

  Bruised, broken, and bleeding, I didn't think there was enough fight left in me, that it was too late. Black nothingness sought to gain entry into my soul, overwhelm my being. Then, from deep within my psyche, an insistent tolling reached in and disturbed me. Its haunting melody was somehow familiar on a primal, instinctual level, and instantly it robbed me of infinite slumber. The very fibers of my being cried out and a battered body rallied against defeat, against giving up or in when confronted with long odds. Straining against the weight that was trying to make breathing an impossibility, I pushed with all my might. Rocks tumbled from their unstable perches at the maneuver, and the force bearing down on me lessened, if only a little. Overworked muscles and fractured bone screamed in protest, but a glimmering beacon of light had been unveiled.

  To my utter amazement, the rocks continued to shift from my back and roll elsewhere. By the time bits of my body broke through, the crowd was screaming at Hercules to end my pitiful existence. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him approaching, a broadsword carried easily in one hand. The kid gloves had come off. Levering off the last bits of restraining rocks, I struggled against the pain threatening to overwhelm me at every step. This furious deluge was too broad, too deep to ignore with the technique gleaned from Jeeves. Regardless, I didn't let it own me. I fought through it and took one step, then another. Wearily, I took up a ready stance and let loose great heaving gasps as my nemesis approached. Peering at Hercules, it almost seemed like he had gotten a wall thrown on top of him, too. That's when the realization dawned on me. He was just as bruised and battered as I was, not to mention slowed by whatever depressant was in the water. Every step he took projected strength, but inside he was a fractured shell, waiting for the correct catalyst to break him to pieces.

  “Is the barrier down?” I asked Jeeves.

  “It appears so. Jas had been unable to initiate any communications until iron man over there shattered a goodly portion of the wall. Whatever magic was previously acting on the arena’s combatants is gone.”

  “Whatever plans you've made, Jas, better be good,” I directed this thought to the both of them, then walled myself off from any incoming communications.

  Clenching my hands experimentally, I decided on the need to act outside set boundaries. “Weapon.”

  The simple statement was enough. A gleaming katana forged of unobtainium sprung out of the folds of reality, deadly in every aspect of its design. Swinging the feather-light weapon around in a lazy arc, I was pleased to note that only half of my muscles cried out in agony.

  “An Empowered who is even more than he seems. Fascinating,” Hercules commented as he stopped advancing and hefted his own weapon. “Regardless, this must end.”

  “Must more blood be shed in sacrifice?” I was thinking back to the first man that had died by my own hand. Although the circumstances had changed, this man was just as much a puppet of the Dominus as the thug was to the Fae. “I'm not alone here and will escape this place. Come with us.”

  “Do you believe this course is wise?”

  “Can you do it or not?” I made my desires known, impressing a series of images into Jeeves' psyche.

  “This is the only life I know,” Hercules stated, but he was toying with the collar around his neck as he said it.

  I stuck my sword into the sand before it vanished from view. “Is it the only life you've ever known? Don’t you remember a time before this?”

  Jeeves flickered into existence behind Hercules. “The consequences could be dire. We do not know where his true allegiances are.”

  A tense shifting of weight, slight drop of the sword. “Those days are long past. There is no life for me outside of these blood-splattered walls. With these collars, we will never make it out of here alive.”

  The mood of the crowd had begun to sour. Boos began to intersperse themselves amid the cheering for blood. “What if the collars were taken out of the equation?”

  Hercules glanced down at himself, looking at the wounds inflicted on his body throughout the course of the fight, then at the blood oozing out of his thigh. His eyes scanned the assembled crowd, worked up into a frenzy.

  I took my chisel and hammered away. “Hercules is a name in the halls of legend. He would have never participated in this, this gore fest. There's no honor in it, no glory. But there are great evils to vanquish out there,” I waved my hand upwards at the world above, “that will raise you to equal your namesake's legend.”

  Hercules' cold eyes sparked with renewed interest. “What are you proposing we do? There's hardly an easy way to take the collar off, and breaking it with brute force won't work. I've tried.”
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  “There's a way. I've found it. Now or never. Are you with me or not?”

  “Only one of you can survive,” The Dominus' powerful voice carried over the dissenting voices of the crowd. “However, if necessary, both of you shall be given to the fire. Need any more motivation be provided?”

  Hercules took a hesitant step back and his broadsword dropped lifelessly into the sands, held only loosely. “How am I to trust you not to gut me once you have the advantage of superior numbers?”

  My hand exerted pressure mechanically on a reopened wound. “My chances of making it out of this place alive are far better with you than without.”

  The last bit of resistance in Hercules crumbled. “Fine. What's the plan?”

  “Do it,” I insisted.

  With a resigned sigh, Jeeves put his spectral hands to the collar. Within a few seconds, he finished with disabling the dampening and harmful aspects of the torc. Apparently there wasn't a unique assembly to each collar, which was lucky for us. We didn't have that kind of time.

  “Your torc has been disabled. Now all we have to do is get the hell out of here.” I pointed to the spot where he had destroyed a portion of the wall. “And it looks like you've already provided us with an exit. I've only seen a portion of those sigils capabilities, but the barrier above is definitely offline. How high can you jump?”

  “High enough,” Hercules responded tersely. “You better be right about this.”

  “I am.” I searched the crowd for Jas, opening myself up to communicate with him at the same time.

  Establishing the connection was not as easy as it should have been, which made me exquisitely aware of how drained I was. “Are you in the green? We're ready to blow this joint.”