But the longer they fought the Berserkers, the worse the situation got. Pieces of their bodies grew harder with every blow, and every slash immediately healed and grew dangerous thorns. Each morph was accompanied with an eerie crackling sound.
Raquel quickly ran through ideas. The spell inside a Berserker’s brain analyzed the attacks of an opponent and used preprogrammed information to make continuous improvements to the body. Attacks also made the body swift enough to parry, and gave the Berserker the ability to learn from an opponent’s techniques.
Raquel was stumped.
“What do we do, Raquel?” Shannon called as he parried a Berserker’s grapple.
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen a Berserker,” she said by way of apology. “If mother’s notes are correct, there’s no way to stop them. Unless…” Raquel stared at the floor, her mind racing.
She could imagine an answer. But she knew Shannon wouldn’t like it.
“You have to end their vital activities completely,” she said gravely. “Before they can transform into something too powerful.”
“We have to kill them?”
“Yes.”
It was a painfully simple conclusion, but one that was completely final. Shannon took a deep breath, then pushed a Berserker back and gritted his teeth.
“Raquel!” he ordered. “Raquel, take Pacifica and get out of here. We’ll keep these guys occupied; I need you to either stop Reynard or deactivate his spell.”
“What do you mean, ‘keep them occupied’?” Pacifica asked.
Shannon shouted over whatever she said next. “Move it, both of you! If Reynard activates that spell, we’re gonna die along with this entire island!”
Shannon was right. Raquel gripped Pacifica’s wrist and ran to the edge of the terrace. As Raquel pulled a thin wire from the pouch on her back and tied it securely around an outcropping on the terrace, Pacifica squeaked out a sound of alarm.
“Raquel,” she said quickly. “You’re not gonna—”
Raquel hefted a surprised Pacifica onto her back. Since Pacifica was still protesting, Raquel locked her sister’s arms around her neck.
“Hold on,” Raquel advised as she jumped off the terrace.
Pacifica’s descending scream mingled with the sound of Raquel’s leather gloves sliding down the wire. Shannon felt the visceral concern in his gut whenever Raquel did something odd, but he forced himself to ignore it.
“Whoa!” Berkens exclaimed, glancing back as he ducked under a Berserker punch. “Did you see that? She jumped!”
“They’ll be fine,” Shannon murmured as he dodged another lunge. “She’s just eccentric.”
“I kinda expected her to use magic.”
“Can we just focus on the problem at hand?” Shannon kicked off another attacker. “She said we have to kill these guys. Do you really wanna go through with that?”
Although the Berserkers retained their human form, they were no longer human beings. A person whose body was covered in a shell with slime excreting from thorns all over could hardly be called human. The Berserkers had undergone so much transformation at that point, that neither Shannon’s sword nor Berkens’ double-moon blade could inflict any damage.
Since Berkens didn’t say anything, Shannon swallowed. They had one option left, as much as Shannon hated to admit it.
“Let’s run away,” Shannon said.
Berkens jerked his head to Shannon. “Are you serious?!”
“All we need to do is keep them busy. We can figure out how to finish them off later.”
Berkens dodged an attack and rolled his eyes. “You don’t want to kill them, do you?” he asked.
Shannon parried. “Do you think I’m a hypocrite after what I said earlier?”
Berkens chuckled. “Hey—sparing lives is hypocrisy I can get behind.”
Shannon took a breath, then buried his sword into the nearest Berserker and used the leverage to jump backward out the door. Berkens followed, knocking another Berserker aside with his shoulder as he ran into the tunnel.
Shannon and Berkens split off into separate directions down the tunnel. The remaining Berserkers came out of the room in pursuit.
“Hey!” Berkens called as he took a tunnel off the left. “When this is all over, let’s grab a drink.”
“I haven’t been on a wagon for a month,” Shannon called back as he ran down the right tunnel. “I can’t drink and drive that thing.”
“Oh.” Berkens picked up speed as five Berserkers ran after him. “Either way!” he called from the darkness. “Let’s meet up again after this!”
“If we survive.” Shannon had four Berserkers to handle himself. He pounded his boots faster against the stone floor.
I’m counting on you, Raquel.
As soon as her soles hit the floor, Raquel released the wire. Pacifica scrambled off her back.
“I thought I was gonna die,” Pacifica gasped, clutching her chest.
“You wouldn’t die from that height, even if you did jump.” Raquel paused to think. “Of course, you would probably shatter both kneecaps.”
“Can you not go into details?!”
Raquel trotted up to one of the structures that resembled a beehive. She removed the metal fittings; the lid to what would have been the comb holes opened. A coffinlike structure made of metal and wood slid out.
“Now, let’s see…” Raquel opened the coffinlike container and dragged out a middle-aged woman who lay inside. After placing her flat on the floor, Raquel examined the speed of the woman’s eye movement, her rate of breath, and other such factors.
Raquel was pleased to find that the islanders’ minds hadn’t yet been completely wiped. They’re most likely dreaming, she thought. And people with erased personalities couldn’t dream—they didn’t have anything with which to dream. Raquel considered that a good sign.
She gave the woman a gentle slap on both cheeks. Her lack of response added further evidence to Raquel’s hypothesis—that the islanders had been drugged. She paused again to think.
“What are you gonna do?” Pacifica asked.
“Hmm.” Raquel touched her chin. “Well, this structure is connected to the central amplifier through a voice pipe and a cylinder filled with water that has the same salinity as blood. This maintains a simulated life pulse.”
Pacifica furrowed his eyebrows, clearly confused. “Uh… okay? So what?”
“Let’s say the islanders are like cells,” Raquel explained. “This magic field works like a brain. In this setup, they can build a shared-consciousness space without using communication spells. All that’s necessary is some hypnosis and a few drugs, since the islanders are already united in a single cause.”
“A shared what?”
“A compressed spell is placed inside the islanders’ heads in advance, and when the strategic spell is activated, all the other spells will decompress automatically and activate inside their heads. If we trace the route back, we can find out whose head is storing the core of the spell.” Raquel pursed her lips. “At least, in theory that should work. Then we can trace the spell back to the central facility and destroy it.”
At the word “destroy,” Pacifica’s eyes lit up. “Oh!” she said. “I get it. Sounds good.”
“Now, Pacifica,” Raquel said, looking directly into her sister’s eyes. “I’ll need you to help me with this, okay?”
“Uh, okay. How?”
“Protect me.”
Pacifica blinked. “Huh?” she blurted. “But… I can’t fight for beans!”
It was true. Comparing Pacifica’s combat ability to her siblings’ was like comparing a toddler to a seasoned warrior. They could protect Pacifica, but to expect the opposite was ridiculous.
“Don’t worry,” Raquel assured her with a smile. “I’ll cast a combat spell on you. I’m going to try to dismantle this spell, but while I’m doing that, I won’t be able to move.” Raquel pointed beyond Pacifica. “And we have to deal with them.”
Pacifica turned. Through the forest-like structure of the magic field, several figures lurched toward the girls. Raquel could tell they were Berserkers; apparently there were more than the nine that Shannon and Berkens had been fighting.
“Since you’re not trained to secure mental capacity for activating spells,” Raquel explained, “I’ll activate the spell in my head. But that means the spell will lose effect if you stray more than ten paces away from me, Pacifica.” She smiled. “So the combat will be in close quarters, okay?”
Pacifica stared at Raquel in disbelief for a moment. Then she looked to the ground, as she often did when she contemplated something, and gave a quick nod.
“Okay.” Pacifica looked up with determined blue eyes. “You and Shannon always take care of me, so now it’s my turn to take care of you.” She clenched her fists, looking almost excited to take the challenge. “Let me have it, Raquel!”
Raquel raised her hand.
“This is pointless!” Berkens snapped. He slid to a halt on the stone floor and whipped around to face the Berserkers. “I’m not running anymore.”
The technique Berkens had to employ with the zombified Berserkers was frustrating; they would chase him, he would run, and then he would slow down to make sure the lurching opponents didn’t lose him. When they caught up, he deflected a few of their blows, and then ran off again. A strategy that passive didn’t suit Berkens at all.
I never used this against ordinary humans, he thought, because I knew it would be lethal. But these guys aren’t ordinary humans.
Carefully changing his breathing, Berkens pulled his right hand back by his side and gripped the wrist with his left hand. He used a special breathing technique to increase the pressure inside his body, then focused his mind on his self confidence until it reached a peak. The two actions worked together to converge into a single, tremendous force.
“Hnnh!” His muscles ripped through his priest’s garb as they bulged. They appeared to change color, but the skin hadn’t changed; his fighting spirit had become a quasi-substance, surrounding his body and diffusing the light around it.
It was a destruction technique that Berkens had developed while training to become a Purger. He called it Gauntlet.