The sanguine elite also gripped him, but in a much less pleasant fashion.
Powerful limbs that were on par with his own strength tried to rip into his flesh. Teeth gnashed near his throat. Wings beat frantically, trying to pull him to his death.
And all he could see in his vision was Juan’s heroic, stupid sacrifice.
But before he could save Juan and the others, he needed to save himself.
The sanguine was on his side, pinning his right arm as it tried to deal the killing blow. With the strength of his body and his Skill, he held it at bay, his free hand gripping one claw while his aura gripped the other.
But the strain of holding himself in midair and fighting off the elite was draining him at an alarming rate. He needed to change the paradigm.
Rearing back, he smashed his forehead into its face. It snarled in rage, but his forehead was coming in a second time, snapping its head back. Its eyes went unfocused, the growl it had been forming cut off midway.
A third headbutt dazed it enough to buy him a second. He couldn’t unlatch its clawed feet from where it clutched to his calves. But he could turn his aura to lifting him back up to the bridge while the elite recovered.
Their combined weight was heavy for his Skill, but they made slow and steady progress back to the lip of the stone. As he came into arm’s reach, the elite suddenly lunged with its claws at Terry’s throat.
His hand was reaching for the bridge, too slow to intercept the blow.
A giant body collided with the sanguine, ripping it free from Terry. He gasped as claws raked along his back and collarbone.
A woman’s voice screamed out above him as he forced his hand to latch onto the stone with a death grip.
“Al’Ruzan!”
[Al'Ruzan, third of his name]: Please catch me, Terry.
There was no time to think. His aura struck downward like a coiled viper, latching blindly onto the heaviest thing he felt falling beneath him. His aura strained at the sudden tug, but held on.
With one hand gripping the bridge, he glanced down to see Al’Ruzan wrapped around the elite, his knife hand stabbing over and over into its body. He dwarfed the creature, nearly three times its size, each blow savaging its flesh with the power of a piston.
When he finally released the sanguine, it drifted away, held tight by Terry’s Skill. He separated the two objects in his mind, letting the dead body enter a free fall as he held Al’Ruzan aloft.
“Little help here…” he groaned, catching Mara-Lin-Jaid’s eyes.
Her gaze had been locked on Al’Ruzan, but she started as she realized Terry was dangling by a finger grip right next to her. Two delicate hands gripped his wrist, straining to pull his weight up. She managed to lift him enough for him to get a second grip on the bridge. It should have been simple for his enhanced body to pull him up at that point, but something felt off, broken.
Working together, the two of them levered him onto solid ground and as he gasped on his back, he turned his attention to the aura gripping Al’Ruzan.
He felt the big Duelist slowly begin to rise, his increased weight and Terry’s blood loss making it more of a chore than it should have been.
When Al’Ruzan reached the stone bridge, he lunged for the edge with a barely-restrained panic in his eyes. Terry couldn’t blame him; being suspended over a thousand foot drop by nothing but someone else’s aura would have terrified him too.
As the Duelist launched himself up, he cleared the lip of the bridge in a single motion, landing straight on his feet and into Mara-Lin-Jaid’s arms.
“Show off,” Terry muttered.
His fingers slowly reached up to his right shoulder, tentatively feeling the extent of the damage. The pain shocked him numb for a moment, but he forced himself to endure it.
They came back soaked in blood, far too much for a superficial wound. He was beginning to feel a chill, but hoped it was from Ben’s magic and not blood loss.
“You good, kid?”
He looked over to see Ben surrounded by sanguine bodies, his entire body encased in nearly-translucent armor.
With a groan, he used his good arm to lever himself to his feet. A wave of dizziness took him, but cleared a moment later.
“Good enough to see this through,” he replied, meeting his uncle’s gaze.
He saw a flicker of worry there as Ben’s eyes trailed to his masticated shoulder, then a brief nod before he turned back to deal with another wave of sanguine.
[Mara-Lin-Jaid]: You’re hurt.
He turned to see Mara-Lin-Jaid and Al’Ruzan staring at him with poorly concealed concern.
Shrugging, he sent them a message.
[Terry]: Job’s not over. Let’s go!
Mara-Lin-Jaid looked like she was about to protest, but Al’Ruzan nodded once, slapping his blade against his chest in a salute before reentering the fray.
Terry turned away from the girl, not liking what he saw in her eyes. Was vision girl giving me that look because she saw I was gonna die?
He pushed those thoughts away, surveying the battlefield.
They’d made little progress since he’d been knocked from the bridge, but he was pleased to note that none of the ghouls had fallen. Ben’s blizzard still circled them and those sanguine that made it past were quickly dispatched by ghoul spears or ice-covered gauntlets.
“We’re good!” Terry called to Ben. “Let’s move!”
He didn’t reply, but Terry felt his aura stir as the center of the blizzard shifted. The group moved in lockstep, staying within the eye of the storm as Ben led them across the bridge.
Above, Terry couldn’t see the cavern ceiling past the thousands of swarming sanguine. It was a demoralizing sight seeing a literal ocean of bodies readying to descend upon them.
If they simply swarmed at one time, he wasn’t certain the weight of their bodies wouldn’t just finish the job then and there.
But for whatever reason, the sanguine came in fits and starts, one dozen—sometimes two—at a time.
Terry wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth; he followed Ben’s lead, the group moving at a slow jog.
They reached the end of the bridge and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Something about fighting on a thin strip of stone perched high above a deadly fall sapped at his will.
But solid ground greeted them and he strained his eyes to see the landscape before them.
It was a rocky plateau, most of it obscured by small stone hills that blocked his line of vision. But he had a sense for where they needed to go, a holdover from Mara-Lin-Jaid’s vision, maybe.
He sent a frantic message to the others, hoping Juan hadn’t done something silly and brave.
Despite the overwhelming odds, there was still a chance—a small, unlikely chance—that they succeeded.
But if they were going to die restoring the Lakarot, he wanted it to be together—not spread far and wide across the layers of the Underworld.
Juan had been holding onto his idea to valiantly martyr himself by the barest thread. Mara-Lin-Jaid’s message had snapped that thread and he suddenly found his rational brain screaming at him.
What the hell were you thinking, Juan! If you die here right now, your abuela is gonna kill you!
He didn’t doubt it, too. If there was a heaven or hell, she’d find him and it wouldn’t be pretty.
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Shaking the mental image of his abuela smacking him with a flip flop in the fires of hell, he hurriedly sent a message to Py and Chippy.
[Juan Carlos]: Okay, I’m coming!
[Py Dar]: Thank the Savior. What were you thinking!
He held off from crafting a reply—the truth was too embarrassing.
I thought I saw a chance to be a hero, just like the cartoons I watched growing up…
For the briefest moment, the romanticism of the idea had utterly consumed him. But as he shook the idea free, he realized that the sanguine were still having trouble passing his lava blockade and the ghouls’ spears continued to launch into the tunnel mouth, killing any that did make it past.
There was a good chance they could make it across even without him holding the door, so to speak.
I am never telling abuela about this…
As he ferried across one of the hoverboards with Crimson Spear, a message came in from Terry.
[Terry]: Juan? Juan! Talk to me! You still with us?
[Juan Carlos]: I’m good, Terry. Just a lapse in judgment. I’m ferrying across this pit of lava with Crimson Spear now.
Across the way, Chippy and Py were doing a little dance, cheering him on as he reached the first column.
[Terry]: Good to hear, bro. Cause we need you down here! There’s thousands of sanguine in between us and the Chamber.
Juan felt his heart skip a beat. Could he tell Terry he’d put his life of sacrifice behind him? It had been a brief, but powerful stint, he thought. Enough martyrdom to last him a lifetime.
Instead, he infused his words with as much bravado as he could muster.
[Juan Carlos]: We’re on the way!
Nope, he was never telling his abuela anything about this.
“We need to punch through,” Terry said to Ben.
The group had formed a small enclave on the high point of the plateau. Ben’s swirling blizzard continued to protect them, while Obsidian Blade’s ghouls formed a secondary circle of defense.
“Can you portal us through?” Ben asked in between launching icicles into diving sanguine.
That was the problem, he had tried.
“There’s something blocking me. The moment they started attacking, some sort of spatial locking effect went into place.” Terry ranged his senses forward, feeling the blanket of power smothering the entire cavern. “They must have realized after we bypassed their blockades. I might be able to push through, but they’ll know exactly where we’ll be exiting from.” He sighed, shaking his head. “We’d be walking into a slaughter.”
Ben sent another wave of ice out before looking back. There was a resolute set to his lips, his eyes glowing ice-blue in the dark cave.
“Then we punch through.”
There was a comforting simpleness to that realization. There was only one way past and that was through. No more subterfuge, no more sneaking about. Just the strength of their magic and body weighed against the swarm of sanguine.
He very purposefully didn’t think about the way his right arm hung limp or the damp cold liquid he felt dripping down his side, pooling in his boots.
All he needed was a few more minutes and one final push.
[Al'Ruzan, third of his name]: What is the plan?
Terry met his eyes, feeling a manic grin touch his lips.
[Terry]: We go through.
The giant Duelist’s mouth spread wide, revealing his tusks—a viscerally terrifying image, but one he thought must be a matching smile.
[Al'Ruzan, third of his name]: Perfect.
Terry couldn’t miss the sad look he cast Mara-Lin-Jaid, but there was also a contentment in that gaze. Like they’d finally said the unspoken and could face death knowing they were side-by-side.
Or maybe he was reading too much into it. Either way, he was pleased to note that the two readied themselves in anticipation.
“Follow my pace!” Ben called out in ghoulish, then repeated in System chat for the other two. “We’re gonna move fast!”
Terry knew his legs were weakening—his whole body, in fact—so he activated Telekinesis to compensate.
When Ben moved, the entire storm moved to follow. It wasn’t an all-out sprint—the A-ranker would have left them in the dust otherwise—but to Terry’s failing body, it might as well have been.
Even with Telekinesis assisting his limbs, the burst of speed was quickly draining him.
They leaped off the side of the small hill they had been defending, running forward where another hill obscured what lay beyond.
Terry knew from earlier that a wave of grounded sanguine lay between them and the Lakarot housing, but Ben’s magic and the ghouls’ spears would be the tip of their wedge.
Mara-Lin-Jaid ran beside him as Al’Ruzan fell back to take up the rear.
A private message came from the woman.
[Mara-Lin-Jaid]: You’re bleeding out.
He side-eyed her, snorting at the obvious proclamation.
[Terry]: See that in a vision, did you?
He tried smiling to soften the message, but her face remained stoic.
[Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I know you don’t hold much stock with my Class.
As they ran, another swarm of sanguine flew in from above just as Ben met a line of elites on the ground. It was a quick, bloody affair, the A-ranker smashing through rather than trying to duel each and every sanguine. As they tried to attack his unprotected back, the ghouls crashed into their line next, dispatching them with brutal efficiency.
[Terry]: I don’t know if now’s the time…
She leaped over a dying elite that reached for her ankle while Terry pulled on his aura to do the same for him.
[Mara-Lin-Jaid]: It is the only time, Terry. There’s not much left.
He didn’t like the finality of that statement, but didn’t interrupt her as another message came in.
[Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I know what you intend and it won’t work. Not in the sequence you are imagining, anyway.
That statement nearly tripped him up and he had to lean on Telekinesis to keep him running as he struggled to process her statement.
[Terry]: Okay…let’s assume I believe you. What do you suggest?
She turned to face him, ignoring her footing in a way he couldn’t in his current state. Her steps never faltered as she sent another message.
[Mara-Lin-Jaid]: If you give me your trust, I will tell you when. Otherwise, we all die.
He was forced to push his aura out to redirect a falling sanguine body. When he turned back, she had put on a burst of speed, leaving him in the center of the pack as she neared the front.
It felt like a dismissal and he was almost petty enough just to message her to prove that the discussion’s end had no relevance on where she physically was.
But his aura was draining fast as he leaned on his Telekinesis more and more, and the blood loss was catching up to him even faster. Now wasn’t the time for petty squabbles.
Instead, he typed out a message to Juan, Py, and Chippy, imploring them to move faster. If this was going to work, they needed to be in range.
When they responded in the affirmative, he crafted a second, private message, just for Juan.
[Terry]: If I don’t make it, will you message my dad when you get back?
Juan was busy smashing a ball of fire into a sanguine’s face, so he ignored the message at first.
When he had a moment to breathe, he felt a wave of anger roll over him.
[Juan Carlos]: Don’t talk like that, bro! We’re all gonna make it!
If Terry was starting to doubt himself, Juan wasn’t sure he could hold it together.
[Terry]: Juan, please…
He sighed, turning his attention to leaping from the bone hoverboard to the far side of the lava pit. Their retreat across the lava had been harried, a few dozen sanguine squeezing past his lava blockade as they’d neared the end.
But thankfully they hadn’t lost any more ghouls or hoverboards once they’d learned the sanguine tactics. Rather than trying to kill the fliers before they could kamikaze, Juan and the ghouls were using evasive maneuvers, pushing aura into the hoverboards at the last moment to dodge the falling bodies.
It had worked flawlessly, and Crimson Spear was just leaping across the air to land beside him.
[Juan Carlos]: Okay, Terry. I’ll hear you out. But you better not be giving up…okay, bro?
A tense moment passed before Terry responded.
[Terry]: Okay, bro.
As Terry sent in a long message for his dad, Juan ignored it to focus on their current predicament; the message would be accessible whenever he needed it. For now, he had to make sure he survived the next liminal layer.
The last of the ghouls made it across safely and Juan reached his tired aura down, plucking another massive pile of lava up from below and depositing it at the tunnel entrance.
Sanguine shrieked as their group fled down the tunnel and into the next liminal layer.
It was a wide open chasm like the others, a long, winding path circling the exterior wall. Every liminal layer before this had been a point of ambush, so Juan gripped the fire he had reserved in his palm, Stoked it to life, then launched it through the open air.
He was surprised to find no lurking sanguine, then even more surprised when he spotted the ramp circling the chasm.
A large section had been destroyed, forming a hundred yard gap of open air between the two sides.
He sent a message to Py and Chippy.
[Juan Carlos]: There’s no time to navigate that gap with the hoverboards. Terry said we needed to be in the next layer, like now!
Chippy and Py shared a curious look that made Juan narrow his eyes.
[Chialpuncritis]: Operation Elevator?
Py nodded agreement, and Juan had to wonder at that strangely human term.
[Juan Carlos]: You guys have elevators?
[Py Dar]: It’s a System translation, Juan Carlos! There’s no time to explain. Observe.
Py got Crimson Spear’s attention, indicating the bone shield in her hands. The ghoul leader watched impassively as she pushed a wave of aura into the device. Then she indicated for a nearby ghoul to grip it along its edge.
As it did so, she pointed at another, using gestures to show where to grab. She continued doing this until six ghouls had a grip all along the edge.
Juan thought he understood the idea…until she indicated six more ghouls to grab their brothers’ legs.
His mind physically hurt as she then had six more grab their legs.
[Juan Carlos]: Uh, Py…?
[Chialpuncritis]: Have faith, Juan!
When eighteen ghouls—who obliged Py’s direction with silent grace—were attached to the hoverboard or each other, she pushed her aura into the control pattern and it began to drift over the edge.
Pulling the eighteen ghouls with it!
Juan physically gasped as they fell over the side, disappearing from view. Rushing to the edge, he saw the ghoul bodies trailing in the air like some bizarre, human-sized ant pyramid.
The hoverboard was pulled down at a decent rate, its aura reserves overwhelmed by the sheer weight. But as Juan watched, he had to admit, it wasn’t falling as fast as he had expected.
He lost sight of the ghouls as they disappeared into the inky black, so he sent a fireball zipping down to illuminate the ground below.
As it flew through the air, the ghouls were slowly lit up. He watched with bated breath as they hit the floor at the speed of a minor jump, then spread out to make room for the others.
Py and Chippy turned to each other and cheered, the four-armed alien picking the little rodent up and twirling him around.
At Juan’s side, Crimson Spear nodded once, then sent a flash of aura out. Eighteen ghouls were linked up on the next hoverboard in a blink.
Juan looked around in stupefied disbelief, not quite believing what he had just witnessed.
Once his mind rebooted, he crafted a message for Terry.
[Juan Carlos]: Hold on, Terry! We’re almost to the next layer!
When the second group of ghouls were over the side, a sudden realization hit the man like a fist to the face.
It was his turn.
“Ah, mierda…”
Book One launches on Amazon in two days :O! Thursday's chapter might be delayed a touch, but if the launch goes well, maybe I'll throw in a bonus chapter...Have to play it by ear.
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