Early the next morning we were walking down one of the cities many back alleys, stuck inside this urban jungle, I was glad it was the beginning of spring. This time of the year the temps didn't rise much above sixty degrees. So the temperature inside this oven, twenty square miles of asphalt and concrete wasn't above seventy-five, and for that I was grateful. We were looking for the last place our sensors got a lock on Brooke's location signal. From there we might be able to find a clue to where she was.
"Are we there yet?" I trudged behind Varden, who was dressed in his usual garb, black T-shirt, black jeans.
Not that I minded the view from behind him. So when he came to a sudden stop I almost ran into him from behind, my mind not being on business and all.
"No, we are not there yet." He answered without turning around.
"How much further?" I asked, my voice rising into my best whiny tone.
"We get there, when we get there." His response was that of an exasperated parent as he fed off my tone.
"Uuuuuggg! We're going to be at this all day aren't we?"
"Yeah, but at least it's not August." He dropped his head to look at the small display screen he was carrying, after a few seconds his head shot back up and he pivoted in place.
"What is it?" I asked.
"The signals, is coming from just around this building. As long as it stays put we'll be done in a few minutes." Grabbing my hand he started deeper down the alley we were in.
At the end he stopped, pressed his back against the rough bricks and poked his head around the corner.
"What is your problem? This isn't the inside of a coven, it's an alley." I hissed.
"Quiet, something's not right here, so stay still and keep your voice down." We waited for a few minutes, my patience growing thinner by the second.
"Come on, the signals coming from right down there." He pointed towards a point I could not see, then without warning he stood and hurried into the shadows.
We stopped when we reached the point on the scanner where it told us Brookes life indicator was located. All that was on the concrete was a pile of cardboard, newspapers, and junk. Without hesitation Varden bend down and began to rummage through the refuse.
"How can you do that?" I shuddered. "You won't find me putting my hands anywhere near that much human junk."
"And that's why you wouldn't have found, this." He stood back up with a small glass capsule in the palm of his hand.
It was the size of a common over-the-counter pain-relieving drug capsule but this one was packed full of microelectronics.
"We found it, but the question is, where's Brooke." Varden held the tiny glass sphere up between thumb and forefinger.
"That looks like blood." I closed the distance and focused on it, there appeared to be some sort of dried coating on it.
"I've seen enough of it, yeah it's dried blood."
"And you should have heard her scream when we pulled that out of her." Vardens eyes locked on someone behind me at the same time I saw someone coming down the alley behind him.
"I just knew that skinny old hag would send one or two of her lackies to find out what happened to poor old Brooke, and she didn't disappoint." The lilting voice sounded like wind chimes on a spring day, and it came from behind the woman that was walking towards me.
"What do you want, and where's Brooke?" I spat.
"Oh you don't have to worry about her anymore. I'd worry more about yourself, you and your little boy toy there." The woman was of average height, athletic build, and long straight blonde hair. She had a scar that ran from just over her left eyebrow, across the bridge of her nose and almost to her right earlobe.
"You don't want to do this." I told them as they got closer. "You don't know what you're dealing with."
"Oh but I think we do." The blonde woman scoffed as a green blade grew from her hand.
"I wasn't talking about me." I twitched my head backwards towards where Varden stood as still as a statue.
"What, your piece of meat. I hope you did what you needed to with him. By the looks of him," I risked a glance over my shoulder to see a woman with hair so white it glowed in the dim light. "I think I'll take him for myself." She gave Varden an approving nod. "I'm sure I can teach him a few things." The two women drew closer, then stopped just out of blade reach.
"Are you ready for this?" I hissed, my voice tight with strain.
"Which one do you want?" He asked.
"You take the one in front of me and I'll take the one in front of you, agreed?"
"Sounds about right, I've always had a thing for blondes."
Before I could respond he shot straight up, moving so fast it seemed like he'd vanished. At the apex of his leap he pivoted in the air, landing in front of me even as I pivoted so that we were still back to back yet facing the opposite directions.
"Stupid male, you've just signed your death warrant." Scar nose snarled, brought her blade to her shoulder, and charged.
As she did the woman that now faced me darted forward her now visible blade sweeping for my throat. I parried her rapier with my own then struck out hard for her head. With impossible speed she reversed her blade and slapped mine to the side so that my strike didn't split her throat but merely left a red line on the side of her neck.
Slipping her grip she tossed her blade into the air, threw a sidekick at my stomach, caught her weapon and swiped the tip down. I stepped backwards without an inch to spare, I heard the tip split the air in front of my nose. This woman was good, very good. Her body obeyed her thoughts with little to no hesitation, giving her exceptional speed in attack or defense.
I found myself ducking and dodging more then attacking, trying to keep her blade at bay with a series of wide sweeping parries and stabs. This went on for several minutes, both of us growing accustomed to the rhythm of the dance we were both performing.
Risking a glance to my left I saw that once again Varden had not materialized his blade. In the second I had to watch I saw him bat the woman's blade to the side with the palm of his hand then spin into a back fist that caught her across the cheek. She dropped to her knees and Varden brought a spinning back roundhouse to the side of her head. Her bonelessly limp body spun to the concrete where it laid still.
At the sound of his foot connecting with her head my opponent turned for an instant and I pounced. I slammed my blade down on hers right at the hilt. The impact was enough to loosen her grip, then with an upward slash I sent it flying from her hand.
With Varden coming in from one side and me from the other the woman's head began to dart around, looking for an escape route. It was then that I felt a sharp stabbing pain on my right side, just below my ribcage. Looking down I found the tip of a narrow green blade protruding and inch past my shirt, blood dripping from the tip, my blood.
"Never turn your back, or loose track of an opponent in battle." That soft voice floated to my ears as I dropped to my knees, my legs no longer strong enough to keep me on my feet.
As I pitched onto my side, a sound came that I'd never heard before. Prying my eyes open I looked up from the floor to see Varden in the air, his blue blade flashing. The sound I'd heard was his scream of rage that had propelled him through the air. His blue blade swung once and the woman above me died, split in two from shoulder to hip. With a snarl he spun to face the man in the shadows.
"A Ταχυδακτυλουργός! After waiting two millenniums they found him?" The sound of retreating steps followed the hissed words, then I heard nothing.
Ταχυδακτυλουργός: Magician, conjurer.
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