Hexomancy Page 4

  Both hands thrusting forward, she released the spell, which shot out a trio of spiraling fireballs, burning white-hot, thanks to her armor upgrade. Lucretia’s Incarnate stopped, then tried to reverse, but the spell still caught it in a glancing blow, burning torso-size chunks off her magical titan.

  And now for the encore. Ree cast her arms wide and used the Guardian’s signature spell, summoning a giant fuck-off great sword that filled the Incarnate’s hands. Ree charged down the mountain, splashing through lava like the shallows of the beach, then leaped up, drawing the sword over her head. Lucretia raised a shimmering shield in defense, but Ree’s flaming great sword shattered the shield and cleaved Lucretia’s Incarnate in two.

  2–2. The next point would determine the winner and prove Lucretia’s guilt or innocence.

  “Boom, baby!” Ree pressed her advantage, mowing through Lucretia’s minions, which also charged Ree’s mana pool. She rallied her troops just beyond a break in the lava flow, since her armor’s resistance didn’t extend to her minions. The artifact was boss-tastic, but it wasn’t god mode.

  Speaking of bosses, a trio of Volcanic Rock Golems crested the hill, steps crushing and cracking the stone beneath them. And behind them came Lucretia, again in her Incarnate form.

  “Are you fragging kidding me?” Ree shouted at the air, half out of frustration, the other half hoping that maybe the Auctioneer would step in and call the game on the obviously-cheating Lucretia.

  But the world didn’t bother answering, so Ree was stuck with a whole lotta angry coming her way. She ordered her troops into formation, the pikemen in front, Elephant riders on the side to flank, and archers standing by, for all the good they’d do. She’d need the hammer-wielding berserkers to have a chance of denting the Golems’ armor, and they weren’t anywhere to be seen.

  “You’re fucking cheating, I know it!” Ree shouted across the battlefield, betting that Lucretia’s Incarnate could hear her just fine.

  “It only looks like cheating because you have no clue what you’re doing, child.”

  “Bullshit! I know this game just fine. The first one, I’ll give you. Maybe even the second. But there’s no way you built up the mana for those Incarnate spells that fast this time. How are you doing it? Some kind of artifact you brought with you? Sorcerous cheat codes?”

  “That’s for me to know, and you to resent. That armor doesn’t make you invincible, and my friends here are eager to prove it.”

  The Golems plowed through the pikemen, shattering shafts and crushing bodies beneath beach-ball-size fists. The Elephants charged into their flanks, knocking the Golems over. But then they got right back up. Lucretia’s Incarnate disintegrated one of the Elephants with a wave of its hand, then stepped through its space in formation, making her way toward Ree.

  Ree brought her great sword around, still confident that her Guardian form could win in a one-on-one against the Doombringer at close range. Ree strafed around to the side, moving as fast as she could, boosting the Incarnate with another enchantment. Lucretia lashed out with a red energy whip but missed Ree once, twice, before the third strike cracked across her Incarnate’s chest, sliding off the armor.

  In return, Ree chopped down with a swing of her great sword, cutting off one of the Incarnate’s arms. Lucretia screamed, then pushed her Incarnate forward, wrapping its remaining arm around Ree’s Incarnate, bringing the two into a tired-boxer clinch. But with no ref to pull them apart, Ree pulled the sword up to slice the Doombringer off her.

  But instead Ree felt the power, the scale of the Incarnate, disappear. She shot up and back as if launched from a catapult. She kept her eyes on the Incarnates, which dissolved in each other’s arms.

  Martyr.

  Fucker. One of the Doombringer’s alternate powers was to sacrifice itself to destroy another Incarnate. The casters survived, however.

  So they’d be finishing this on foot, with a straight-up magical duel or a race to fill their mana pools.

  Ree had no interest in waiting again, and poured mana into her Levitation spell, flying forward as fast as she could. She had to end this soon, before Lucretia could pull another trick out of her voluminous sleeve.

  Chapter Four

  Finish Her!

  Lucretia’s Golems tore up Ree’s forces; the pikemen were gone, the Elephants routed. Now the Golems were King Kong–ing their way through a group of Ree’s infantry, tossing soldiers left and right. Lucretia had rejoined the fight, shooting lightning bolts from the back of one of the Golems in order to stay out of the way of Ree’s ground forces.

  Which conveniently put her into easy line of sight for Ree’s own attacks. Ree flew low, coasting just a yard above the rough terrain. She hid behind a ruined pillar, charging a Fireball spell. She popped out and fired, hoping they would slow Lucretia and maybe even bring down the Golems so she could focus on Lucretia alone, with the minions left to pound it out on their own.

  The fireballs shot with less heat, now that her armor was gone, its timer reset. One sheared a leg off the Golem that Lucretia was riding, but the Strega saw the spell coming and flew off, leaving the construct to crash into infantry like a shattered mountain.

  Lucretia flew forward, her staff gathering energy for a spell. Ree started weaving a Mana Sink, and threw it forward to cancel out Lucretia’s fire burst, jumping out from cover and making her way across the ruined plane toward Lucretia. It took a lot of mana to cancel out spells, but if Ree could just get close . . .

  Another blast shot forward, and Ree flew over the blast, switching back to the free levitation for a controlled fall. She zipped left and right, the searing air whipping her hair into an unruly mane.

  But with each blast dodged, Ree got closer and closer. When she was within fifty feet, Lucretia responded to Ree’s aerial charge by backpedaling, flying up and back. But that required going over the battlefield, where Ree’s archers had just respawned. Lucretia took a volley of arrows, swatting most out of the air, but not all.

  A pair of arrows stuck out from the Strega’s leg and waist as Ree approached.

  “Converge on the caster!” she shouted, her orders carrying to her force’s armies, what few were left after the Golems’ rampage. The Golems would catch up and crush her minions soon, but Ree didn’t need longevity, just this one last push.

  She maxed out her levitation spell, closing the distance to Lucretia as she came in from above at an angle. The Strega filled the air with another burst of fire, and Ree emptied her mana pool on a Shield. More than a bit singed, she soared through the fire and smoke, turning left to adjust as Lucretia fled.

  Ree cut off her levitation and dove straight at Lucretia, leaning into her staff like a lance. The staff caught the Strega beside her wounded hip, and the women tumbled to the ground. Ree’s impact was cushioned by the other woman, but not so much that the sharp rock didn’t tear through her robes, opening scores of cuts along the way.

  Lucretia unleashed a burst of fire as the women got to their feet. Ree dove to the side, rolling and collecting more cuts for her dodginess, but cuts were better than becoming barbecue, hands down.

  Ree swung her staff in both hands, the weapon slamming into Lucretia’s free arm with a satisfying crack. Ree twisted her grip around like she was working a longsword, and hacked again at the Strega as she backpedaled across the rough terrain.

  Moving backward when you couldn’t see where you were going? Not a great idea. Ree hopped to the side and thrust forward with the staff, shooting a weak burst of fire with her sliver of mana. Lucretia canceled it out with Shield, but that left the Strega with no mana to fly. So when she stepped back onto a distinct lack of rock, she was screwed. Lucretia kicked on her levitation to avoid the fall, but without more mana to move quickly, she was a floating duck. Ree tackled the Strega and wrapped her staff around the woman’s neck, grappling the weapon and the woman’s arms up and putting her into a modified hal
f nelson.

  Lucretia screamed, trying to fight back. But they were themselves enough in this world that Ree had the strength advantage. Ree’s grip slipped, the staff falling away.

  Shit. There went her easy win.

  Ree pushed the pair toward the ground to recover the staff, but Lucretia pushed up with her flight, sending the two women spinning in midair. Ree grabbed the straps of the Strega’s dress with one arm, then wrapped her other around Lucretia’s neck. She tightened the choke and held on for dear life.

  Spinning and twisting, the world moving too quickly to keep her bearings, Ree felt like she was going to hurl sprites.

  Just. Hold. On.

  And after an indeterminate nauseating forever, Lucretia went limp.

  With her spell gone, the pair fell. A lava plume burned her for all her remaining life, but Lucretia’s death logged first.

  3–2.

  Ree snapped back to the real world amid a chorus of cheers. She looked left to Lucretia, whose face was beet red with anger. Behind her, Ree saw the stats scroll for the battle light up the massive screen, with video replays of the kills.

  Note to self: Get the replay video on that to run on loop with a digital picture frame. Hot damn.

  Ree knew that she should step over and offer Lucretia a “good game” handshake. That’s what a good sport would do. But Lucretia’s hat trick of Incarnate summons had Ree in a decidedly unsportswomanlike mood.

  Instead, she looked back toward the Auctioneer, who looked on with a champion poker face. Accusing Lucretia of cheating wouldn’t help now; it’d just make her seem like a bad sport. Ree just needed the result to stick so this whole thing could be over and done with. Preferably with a random pot of gold in Lucretia’s skirts that could pay for all of the repairs at Grognard’s.

  The Auctioneer raised her arms and spoke over the crowd. “Quiet!”

  A few more whoops and a little bit of applause later, the crowd quieted down. Grognard wrapped Ree into a rib cage–crushing bear hug, picking her up off the ground. Ree gasped, then wobbled as the brewmaster set her back on her feet.

  “Way to go,” Grognard said.

  Eastwood stood and offered a hand, green gills not doing anything to wipe the smile from his face.

  “Couldn’t have played it better myself,” he said.

  “If they’d been playing Goldeneye, you’d have cleared her out three to zero, flu or no,” Ree said.

  “True, but this was nearly as good.” Eastwood blew his nose, blinked, and then seemed to summon as much dignity as possible to say, “Thank you, Ree.”

  “Cut this shit out; you’re going to make me cry,” Ree answered.

  Eastwood wrapped her up into a hug, whispering in her ear, “Lucretia cheated. She won’t leave well enough alone. This isn’t over.”

  At that, Ree stiffened, then looked over her shoulder at Lucretia, who stormed back and forth, fuming. If she were like Ye-jun the Manwha guru, she’d have clouds of steam-anger attached to her forehead.

  “Be seated, everyone!” the Auctioneer said, and Ree took her seat once more, facing the front of the room.

  “Lucretia d’Fete has been convicted in trial by combat and will be subject to the community’s highest penalty: banishment. But first, Lucretia will pay all damages for Grognard’s store, totaling fifty thousand dollars, to be delivered by the Autumn Equinox.” Lucretia thrashed in her seat, livid.

  “And to ensure that she does not strike out again, she will submit to another giese to not curse, assault, or otherwise harass any members of the Pearson Underground. She will be allowed to use her magic only for self-defense and to benefit Grognard’s Grog and Games until such time as the damages have been paid. After that, she will leave Pearson and never return, under penalty of death.

  “So say we all,” the Auctioneer pronounced.

  “So say we all,” the crowd repeated.

  Lucretia spat out a long string of Latin, gesticulating at Eastwood and Ree. But there was no power behind it, no crackling of energy. It wasn’t Hexomancy, it was just trash-talking in Latin and rude gestures.

  “Let’s get out of here, before Lucretia loses it,” Grognard said.

  “What about the giese?” Ree asked.

  Grognard nodded back at the Auctioneer. “She’s got it. Drinks are on me.”

  Never one to turn down celebratory booze, Ree led the group away from the trial floor. Pumped fists, applause, and handshakes of congratulation were waiting for her from the crowd. Patricia Talon picked Ree up into a bear hug, Chandra gave her a fist bump, Uncle Joe presented her with a limited edition Magic: the Gathering championship card, and Shade gave her a pair of his Spirit Shades, which could peek across to the Spirit realm, on top of being totally rad-looking ’80s sunglasses. She’d bought a pair back during the shoot of Awakenings, and then promptly lost them in the sewers.

  After they made their way through the crowd, Grognard led the trio back to his regular booth spot. He stepped over to the side, nodding at Reyna, who ran a Geekomancer’s wet dream of a costuming shop. If she ever had the money, Ree would gladly drop several grand there, putting together outfits to go along with some of her favorite movies, seeing if she could borrow a page from Talon and use costuming to enhance her Geekomantic antics. Mostly, she just wanted the Jedi robes, because duh.

  Grognard pulled fabric off a boxy shape, revealing a black cooler. Sliding it over into his spot, he cracked the lid, revealing four growlers with Grognard’s label on the side. He handed one each to Eastwood and Ree, then took the third for himself.

  “To justice,” Grognard said.

  “I wish Drake had been here to see the look on Lucretia’s face,” Ree said.

  “Well, he isn’t, so that means more beer for us,” Eastwood said, raising his growler to toast. “To Justice.”

  Ree clinked her growler against the others, and repeated the toast.

  They drank and talked for another hour, a receiving line of congratulations interrupting the privacy of the moment. With the store closed, there wasn’t a better place to accept the well wishes, so the three of them stood around as what seemed like the entire Pearson community came by to offer their thanks, including Tomas’s gaming buddies, Alexi’s sister, and Siobhan’s twin, Maeve.

  Ree hadn’t known any of the fallen well, aside from their preferred drink order and their taste in card game factions. But this wasn’t about Ree, it was about the fallen, and so she was as gracious as she could be, letting the friends and family get the closure they needed by thanking the woman who had ensured justice for their loved ones.

  “You’re a hero,” Maeve said, teary-eyed. “I’m so glad that you joined us.”

  A hero. Ree didn’t feel like a hero, but heroism wasn’t for yourself. That was kind of the point, wasn’t it?

  They finished off the growlers, splitting the fourth among them. They left with an entourage when the Market closed down, trusting in the safety of numbers.

  “You done good, kid,” Grognard said as he split off from the group.

  “When are you going to stop calling me ‘kid’?” Ree asked.

  Grognard harumphed. “When you’re older than I am.”

  “See ya, old man,” she countered.

  “Don’t you get started.” Grognard nodded and pulled the door of the bar closed. The brewmaster never talked about his house/apartment/lair; it was always the bar. Just another thing he kept close to the chest.

  The honor guard escorted Ree back to the U-District, where Eastwood bade her a sniffly good night.

  “I’ll call in the morning.”

  “Must you? Can’t I have one nice Sunday hangover without supernatural bullshit dominating my life?”

  “Maybe next week,” Eastwood said.

  This is my life, Ree thought as she tromped home to collapse, not interested in throwing a Shake of Victory o
ver a liter and a half of beer. That way lay doom.

  True to his word, Eastwood woke Ree at 7:45 the next morning. Ree had to be up for a temp job at 9, so it was only a minor sin against slumber.

  She snatched the buzzing phone from her bedside table, seeing Eastwood’s picture and info on the screen. “What?” Ree asked, still groggy.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Eastwood said, far too peppy for the hour.

  “You’re just saying that because you haven’t been to bed yet.”

  “Yeah, so? I was up, checking on that Latin that Lucretia spouted there at the end. The translation is about as ominous as you’d expect.”

  “A curse upon your nads and seven generations of your descendants, or something like that?”

  That got a chuckle. “More or less. It reads like prophecy. And the thing that’s got me worried is the line about the three fates and their shears, each coming for their due.”

  “So you’re due for some bad haircuts? They can’t be much worse than the shaggy antihero mullet you’re rocking now.”

  “I really shouldn’t bother calling you before your first coffee.”

  “No, you shouldn’t. See what happens when you do? You get ninety percent snark, ten percent coherence.”

  “Come and see me when your shift is done. We need to make plans.”

  “Fuck. Got it. Try not to get dead while I answer phones, okay?”

  “No promises.”

  Nine hours later, after several hundred calls’ worth of helping people get onto Oregon’s no-call list, Ree’s brain was oozing out of her ears from banality. She skipped dinner, catching the crosstown bus from the financial district back toward the Fortress of Dorkitude.

  She walked down the steps and buzzed at the door, a recent concession Eastwood had made to civilization, or at least to Ree not having to pound on the door or text him to be let in.

  Eastwood buzzed her in, and Ree stepped down into the mini–Warehouse 13 of Eastwood’s lair, metallic shelves stacked twenty feet high, running the length of the fifty-yard-long room. The shelves were chock-full of memorabilia, signed first editions, movie props, and more. As far as Ree could tell, it was the most complete Geekomantic arsenal this side of San Diego Comic-Con. But it was also Eastwood’s business, the storeroom for his online merchandise store, which kept the very high lights on and maintained Eastwood’s brooding renegade hero lifestyle (aka pizza and beer).