Reality Falling (The Book Wielder Saga 2) (6 page)

Blake shook his head slowly. “Orders from the Capital are to push east from our hold on Rigorton to take Industria as soon as possible, which we are struggling to do. Those lunatic Anarchy’s Ascendants are out causing mayhem and running distractions, and that leaves us up here struggling to defend the supply lines.”

“Is that where we come into it?” Kavarne asked.

“You guessed it.” Blake gave a slight smile. “Kaine wants you to run a regular patrol up and down Highway One, and take out anything that’s a threat. I’ll lend you as much support as possible but you’ll have to radio if you need a big load of backup, I’m afraid. We’ll get a couple of drinks in and go over the details; I definitely need a beer or two.”

Lynette nodded appreciatively. “Ride up and down Highway One, take out some rebels, and ride up and down Highway One... I think we can handle that, can’t we boys?”

Merv revved excitedly and Kavarne gave a cool nod.

“Let’s see if you’re that chirpy after you’ve dealt with your first Supernatural filled tank.” Blake laughed, but they could tell that he was worried.

Alice searched around the dark dockyard in Industria frantically, her hammer in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Her power armour made moving quickly around the big metal cargo containers easier, but her apprehension was tiring her out.

It was a cold night by the calm waters of the Industrian coast, and the churning mechanical sounds coming from the industry-filled city were a constant droning of background noise. The skies above were a mix between cloudy and smoggy, illuminated by the sheer volume of light from within the city. Even at night the columns of smoke from factory chimneys continued to pour forth into the heavens, and it was only towards the ocean that an actual clear bit of sky could be seen. The air was much clearer in the docks than it was within the city but the heavy pollution still tickled the nostrils.

Jonathan Knight, a member of the Trinity of Old who had first introduced Alice to Silvario and Cherriesa, was accompanying her on her mission, as were a male and female Inquisitor in full suits of power armour. They too were looking all over the place with flashlights.

“What are we looking for again?” Jonathan asked wearily.

“A symbol of some sort,” Alice said in an irritated tone. It wasn’t the first time he had asked. “Probably the Inquisition banner symbol.”

“Are you sure it’s even here?” he asked.

“Yes,” she snapped back. “Four containers were definitely shipped from Central Isle to this dockyard.”

“I’ve got them,” the female Inquisitor called to them.

They gathered in front of four generic containers which were stacked side by side, one on top of the other. The woman’s flashlight was fixed in place on the door of one container showing a small glowing Inquisition emblem.

“Good work,” Alice said, impressed. “Open them up.”

The two Inquisitors smashed off the chain locks on the lower two containers with their strength-aiding power armour, and Alice shot the top two off with precise blasts from her wrist mounted plasma lasers. Behind some ramshackle wooden boarding blocking the entrance which they quickly threw out of the way, there were dozens and dozens of Autons packed inside.

Jonathan took a flat grey stone out of his reddish brown robe. It had a strange turquoise hue, and was inscribed with swirling lines like a fingerprint. The Trinity Mage had black spiky hair and a finely trimmed beard, and was handsome behind his gold rimmed spectacles. Jonathan was well mannered and well spoken, but every now and then he displayed a bit of roguish charm, especially if he was bored. Alice was in two minds about whether or not she liked the man. Sometimes he made her laugh, but other times she could quite easily punch him.

“I’ll get Silvario here,” he said looking pleased.

“Be quick about it,” Alice grumbled.

“Of course, Lord Inquisitor,” Jonathan said slyly. He pressed on the stone and spoke to it. “Master Silvario, we are ready for you.”

“On my way now,” Silvario’s voice spoke back.

The communication stones were old and very rare, a relic from the age before the Shadow Wars. Alice wished there were more available as it seemed a much more efficient method of communicating than relying on radio and phone transmissions.

A human sized blue and white oval shape appeared not far from Jonathan, and the portal warped and distorted reality around its seams in a way that was both mesmerising and frightful. Silvario stepped through wearing an extravagant gold and silver coloured robe, and the portal closed behind him. He was still out of breath from creating the portal that had brought them all to the dockyard in the first place.

Even though Industria City was still technically under their control, with rebel forces successfully holding back the Archmage’s forces well outside of the city’s boundaries, Silvario didn’t want to take the risk of being out of the Catacombs for too long. Alice could understand the old Mage’s trepidation, because although the puppet-like Gloom Freaks were clearly not human, they were hard to detect whilst wearing an obscuring outfit. She had also been told that they were even more deadly in the real world than they were in their native environment of the Gloom.

“Are you okay master?” Jonathan said, going to the aide of Silvario.

“Yes, yes,” Silvario said in a frail yet defiant tone, but he still accepted Jonathan’s assistance in walking him to the containers. “Let us animate these Autons quickly and return to safety.”

“Tut, tut, tut.” A dock worker wearing baggy clothing, a bright orange hard hat, and a hi-vis jacket came out of the shadows and shook his finger at them disapprovingly. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Move along,” Alice said sternly, “we’re on Inquisition business.”

“Inquisition business, you say?” the dock worker said in an amused voice. “You hear that, gang?”

Shrill and horrid laughter echoed through the docks, as more dockworkers crept out of the shadows or peeked out over the edges of stacked up containers. They held hammers, crowbars, bolt cutters and other tools brandished menacingly.

A shiver crept down Alice’s spine. “Freaks...”

Silvario took a deep breath and held his hands out towards the Auton containers. “Deal with them quickly,” he ordered as he began sending the wisps of magic flowing into the machines.

Alice sent a duel barrage of fiery blue plasma bolts from her wrist lasers into the face of the first Alt, melting the puppet’s orange helmet and igniting its fabric, and then the others charged. She quickly drew her more powerful submachine gun from its holster and fired wildly into their ranks.

The two Inquisitors fired a prolonged lance of plasma energy from their rifles across the charging Alternatives. Many were cut in half and set ablaze in blue fire, but after Alice’s initials shots they were ready, and so those not caught in the sweeping beams dodged expertly out of the way with graceful acts of acrobatic mastery. With their guns overheating, the Inquisitors’ advanced black rifles switched to regular ammunition, and the Alternatives took the opportunity to advance quicker.

Alternatives began leaping from the tops of the containers. One dropped directly onto the back of the male Inquisitor and scratched at his face with its elongated pointed fingers, so Alice quickly rushed to help and swung her hammer at the foul creature. The spell-forged hammer smashed into the Alt’s side, and in a flash of white light it was torn asunder and sent flying. Bits of grey stuffing floated in the air like snowflakes as Alice helped him up and swung her hammer at another assailant.

Silvario kept his attention focused on the Autons within the containers, sending the greenish blue wisps of magic into their complex circuitry. He had used a great deal of power opening the portals, and he was ashamed at how much the ancient magic was draining him. His old master from the Mage’s tower of Desem had taught him well in the ancient ways of animation and translocation magic, but Silvario’s greatest and strongest talents had always been that of his cunning and diplomatic manner.

Alternatives kept trying to close in on Silvario before he could bring the Autons to life, but Jonathan sent them flying with waves of force magic, impacting them into the sides of containers with so much force that they exploded in a puff of padding and material.

The two Inquisitors were managing to hold out against the tide of assailants with the help of Alice and her spell-forged hammer, as an array of wrenches, crowbars and hammers flew at them from random directions. Even thrown with supernatural force the missiles could only dent their power armour, but one caught the female Inquisitor on the side of her face and knocked her to the ground. The male Inquisitor, with blood still streaming down his face, unleashed another lance of plasma energy from his rifle until it overheated once again. With another swath of bright blue plasma fire the Alt’s numbers were thinning drastically, but the group worried how many more were on the way.

“I’m done,” Silvario wheezed.

“Alice, quick!” Jonathan yelled, throwing more waves of clear force magic into the disguised Alts.

Alice ran over to the containers and yelled, “Autons, help us!”

The armoured robots clambered and leapt out of the rectangular containers, and they immediately clashed with their foes from the Gloom. They shot deadly hails of plasma fire from both rifles and wrist mounted lasers, and raked with their razor sharp metal talons and energetically charged swords, tearing the puppets to pieces.

In turn, the reality-empowered Alternatives retaliated in full force. They kicked, punched, bludgeoned, scratched and smashed away at their mechanical foes, until they were nothing more than piles of scrap metal twitching on the ground, squirting out oil and other fluids from their wiring.

Alice, momentarily distracted by the puppet versus machine carnage, was jumped by a group of four Alternatives from above. They body-slammed her into the ground, her submachine gun and hammer falling from her hands, and she knocked her head hard against the sharp shingled floor as the Freaks pressed her limbs down with unnatural force. She struggled in an attempt to get her wrists into a decent firing angle, but even with her suit’s strength-assisting servos it was hopeless. The two frightful creatures holding her arms chomped and clattered their big white teeth together as they closed in on her exposed face, and her terrified expression was reflected in their soulless round black eyes.

“Get the fuck off her!” Jonathan yelled angrily.

Alice wriggled and wriggled futilely. She tried pressing herself further into the ground, and she closed her eyes as the teeth grew ever closer to her face.

Suddenly, the Alts hissed and screamed. The noise was awful and hurt Alice’s ears, and she could hear the sound of fizzing too. At once, the weight on her limbs was almost gone. She opened her eyes to see the foul unholy creatures dissolving over her, writhing and squirming as they melted away like ice being doused in boiling water. Standing over her was a very angry looking Jonathan. He was holding a child’s large toy water pistol, and she’d never seen him so cross. Being dazed, it took her a while to realise that he was hosing them down with bleach; it was like acid to the filthy corrupt things from the Gloom.

Jonathan took Alice by the hand and attempted to lift her up, but being a Mage didn’t do anything to boost his physique, and her streamlined power armour weighed a great deal.

Alice dozily picked herself up off the ground and gave a thankful smile to Jonathan. She checked the back of her head and found that she was bleeding underneath her hair. She felt quite drowsy.

“Are you alright?” Jonathan asked with concern.

Her head was pounding, her thoughts took too long to form, and her vision was blurry. “Yeah thanks, I’m fine.”

Around them, the skirmish had been won. The Autons were ruthlessly executing the last of the Alternatives, and the male Inquisitor was helping the female one back onto her feet. Silvario was slumped on the ground and panting like dog. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small glass bottle filled with strange coloured liquid, swigging it all down, and within moments he was back on his feet composing himself.

“Autons,” Alice slurred. “Defend Industria City and its people, and aide the efforts of the Inquisition and its allies!”

The Autons finished their bloody work, saluted, and headed towards the city.

“That should help keep Winston out,” Jonathan said.

“Hopefully,” Alice said, trying to stay balanced. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Definitely. We’ve lingered for too long,” Silvario said. He closed his eyes and focused hard.

Another blue and white interstice opened up before them, slightly larger than the one Silvario had entered from, and the group walked or limped through.

They were in one of the Catacomb’s generic plain grey stone tunnels, with everlasting magefire torches illuminating the place and giving everything a calming bluish tint. By the portal, two Trinity guards were stood to attention in silvery grey armour that was engraved with light blue runes. They wore helmets with their visors down, and from the top spewed long plumes coloured purple, yellow and red. They were armed with assault rifles and had sheathed swords on their hips.

A blonde haired Vampire Bloodmage was waiting for them by the guards. He looked young as most Supernaturals usually did, but he moved slowly and purposefully like an old man, and his red eyes clearly held a great depth of knowledge. He wore smart clothing from a few eras past, and had the mannerisms of a doctor or some sort of practitioner.

The Vampire approached Silvario but the Mage dismissed him with a wave of his hand, so he went to Alice next. He pressed his hand to her brow and a warm surge of magic coursed through her head. He quickly moved on the other Inquisitors who reluctantly let him heal them.

After they were all fixed up, Silvario lead them down the tunnel and through one the Catacomb’s many permanent pulsing blue portals, into a living area combined with a banquet hall. Long wooden tables were set out row after row, covered in expensive old cutlery and magefire candelabras. There were also leather sofas arranged around the sides of the room in bookshelf lined recesses, and even a few televisions and portable radios. Members of the Inquisition and the Trinity of Old mingled freely. Some were very uncomfortable in each other’s presence, but others were a bit too
comfortable
with each other for Alice’s liking. She’d heard plenty of stories about the ‘mingling’ between the two factions. It seemed strange considering that they should be natural enemies, but sharing a common threat had brought them together. She wouldn’t be dropping her guard around the Supernaturals any time soon, though.