“Wall, defend!” Raquel’s voice rang out from the passenger cabin, activating the defensive spell Midgard. Shining geometric patterns surrounded the carriage and horses, deflecting every arrow.
Shannon cracked the whip. “We’re going straight through!” he called back.
The barrier disappeared. Without knowing what kind of enemies they faced, Shannon knew that Raquel needed to reserve her magical strength.
Shannon urged the horses onward. He wanted to get as far away from the ambush as possible. But before he could get very far, three men with daggers burst from the nearby thicket and leapt for the carriage.
Shannon managed to kick one of the men away, but the other two scrambled onto the carriage. One jumped onto the driver’s box, the other on the passenger cabin.
“Dammit!” Shannon cursed. He quickly drew his sword.
In the confines of the driver’s box, Shannon couldn’t make full use of his sword—a dagger’s short range was far more effective. And Raquel couldn’t use destructive magic on an enemy who clung to the Casulls’ only means of transportation. The opponent had outsmarted Shannon and given themselves a major advantage.
“Who are you?” Shannon hissed. The man wore a black mask over his face, and his clothes had no insignia or markings that Shannon could see.
Instead of answering, the man lunged at him with his dagger.
Shannon swiftly brought his sword around to block the blade. Unfortunately, the driver’s box wasn’t big enough for the maneuver Shannon had in mind; the sword lodged itself in the wall of the passenger cabin with a thunk.
“Argh!” Unable to block the dagger, Shannon had
no choice but to drop his sword and duck. Despite his efforts, the dagger still sliced through his shoulder.
Shannon’s abandoned sword slid out of the wooden cabin wall and clattered off the carriage. Before Shannon knew what was happening, his beloved heirloom was gone.
“Impressive,” the man muttered. “Few swordsmen are willing to drop a weapon, even if it is a hindrance.”
Shannon jammed his hand under the driver’s seat and pulled out a short sword he kept there for emergencies. “Shut up,” he snapped.
Both men moved at the same moment. The dagger and short sword met with a clash and locked together; both fighters pushed against their weapons in an attempt to overpower their opponent. Shannon abruptly forced his blade forward and twisted it. The masked man managed to avoid the blade but lost his balance, and Shannon drove his knee into the man’s gut.
For a moment it seemed like the masked man would fall, but he slammed his dagger into the wall of the passenger cabin and used it to anchor himself to the swiftly moving coach. The move jerked the man out of the way of Shannon’s short sword, and by the time Shannon had a chance to attack again, the man had already pulled himself onto the roof of the cabin to join his comrade.
Shannon hoped Raquel had a spell prepared, but he couldn’t think of anything that would be very effective in such close quarters. Defensive magic could work, but using offensive magic in the cabin would most likely kill everyone.
The men grabbed the edges of the roof and prepared to kick in the glass windows from both sides. Shannon was too far away to stop them.
An instant before their feet hit the windows, the glass burst out from the inside. Small steel pellets slammed into the men’s ankles and knocked them off-balance. Both men barely managed to catch themselves before they fell.
The rear door of the cabin opened, and Raquel’s head and torso appeared over the edge of the roof. She wore strange mechanical contraptions on both her wrists: compatible bows, special high-powered weapons that could launch arrows or steel pellets with great speed. Although her first attack had been through a glass window (and hence had a reduced level of force), even the non-lethal pellets could inflict serious injury at close range.
Raquel smiled. “Just because I’m a sorceress doesn’t mean I always attack with sorcery,” she said brightly. The bows on her wrists were still pointed at each of the men.
Shannon jumped onto the cabin’s roof. He knew they had to end the battle quickly, simply because he didn’t know how much longer the coach would stay upright without a driver. The stretch of road was mercifully straight, but the carriage could still tip over at any moment.
Under Raquel’s watchful gaze, neither man moved. They seemed surprised, but Shannon knew that wouldn’t last long. The men were dangerous, too dangerous for either Shannon or Raquel to take on alone. He suddenly realized there was only one option left.
“Pacifica!” he shouted. “Take over as driver!”
“What?!” Surprised, Pacifica poked her head out of the window behind the driver’s box. “B-but I’ve never driven before!” she spluttered.
“Just hold the reins! You’re better than nothing!”
Pacifica climbed through the window and tentatively took the reins. Shannon prayed she could handle the task without killing them all.
“So?” Shannon asked, focusing back on the masked men. “What’s it gonna be? I’d really like to end this so I can go back for my father’s sword.”
Shannon’s original opponent growled. “I don’t recall going easy on you,” he snapped, “but I suppose we weren’t prepared to take on a trained fighter.”
“I don’t recall going easy on you, but I suppose I was just used to all the flunkies we’ve faced.” Shannon glanced sideways at Pacifica, then felt the color abruptly drain from his face. His sister had apparently overcome her nervousness and was squealing in delight as she swung the reins wildly.
Don’t panic, he told himself in an attempt to calm down. Just win, then get those reins the hell out of her hands.
Before Shannon could make his attack, a horse suddenly appeared beside the speeding carriage. The horseman jumped out of the saddle with impressive agility; his gray overcoat spread out behind him as he soared through the air and landed gracefully beside Pacifica.
He smiled at Shannon, who resisted the urge to scream in frustration.
“Y-you!” was all Shannon managed to choke out.
Christopher Armalite winked at a perplexed Pacifica. “Let me do that,” he said as he took the reins from Pacifica’s unresisting hands.
“Er,” she began, confused. “What are you—?”
“For now, we’re not enemies.” In a display of his peculiar strength, Chris pulled the reins tight. The horses—frightened by the fighting—seemed to regain their sense and eventually slowed the carriage to a stop.
Chris stood upon the seat and spoke in a loud, clear voice without turning to look at the fighters on the roof.
“I have a message from Colonel Sturm,” he called. “Code Crimson 0037. He told me you would understand what that meant.”
The masked men exchanged a quick glance. In one fluid motion, they sheathed their weapons and pulled out thin chains with weights on the end, which they then threw into the trees to the side of the road. Before Shannon could even make a move, the men swung into the trees and were lost in the forest.
Shannon jumped back into the driver’s box. “Hey!” he snapped. “Battleaxe kid! I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
“Please call me Chris,” the boy said calmly.
Despite Chris’ help, Shannon felt a growing urge to throttle the boy. Haven’t I had to beat him enough times already? he wondered darkly. And can this day possibly get any worse?
“You want to tell me what’s going on here?” Shannon asked.
“Well, I can’t give you the details—they’re top secret. But I can tell you that the town is in chaos and that you better return.”
Pacifica’s eyes widened. “What happened to Taurus?!” she demanded.
Chris shrugged. “It looks like the Purgers have transformed into a crazy beast,” he said evenly. “They’re sucking in all sorts of things and growing bigger as we speak.”
Shannon opened his mouth to retort the ridiculous statement, but before he could speak a deafening roar pierced the air.
The three Casull siblings whipped toward the sound in shock. Above the familiar buildings of Taurus, giant tentacles swayed violently.