The Conquering Dark: Crown

A long steel leg lifted over them and they dove in opposite directions. It struck the spot they had just occupied in a shower of stone and rubble. Simon stretched his fingers bringing a small charge of electricity to arc across his gauntlets. He reached out to grab the steel leg that was the size of a tree trunk. Spiders of electricity crawled out over the metal, but they seemed to find no purchase and dissipated.

 

“The Baroness must’ve insulated it!” Penny shouted. “Bloody genius! Look out!”

 

A shadow loomed over Simon as another leg lifted. He rolled aside again, but jammed against a pile of rubble. He tried to get to his feet, but he knew he wouldn’t be fast enough. A blur of grey fur collided with him, carrying him beyond the impact. They tumbled to a stop.

 

“Thank you, Charlotte,” he gasped as soon as he caught his breath. They were under the machine and the heat of the engine felt like the mouth of an erupting volcano. “Look for a way inside. A hatch. A seam. Anything. Make one if you have to.”

 

Charlotte howled with far too much enthusiasm. She leapt, her powerful haunches propelling her straight up onto one of the legs swinging overhead. She crouched and another leap sent her atop the bulging head. Her claws struggled to find purchase on its smooth surface. Then Simon lost sight of her.

 

Another wash of flame made Simon’s skin prickle. It came from behind him on the north end of the bridge.

 

Kate dodged a bolt of flame. She was sweating in the scorching heat. The canvas over the cofferdam was ablaze and lit the entire area. She wasn’t able to get close enough to Ferghus to do anything. She followed Malcolm’s example and tried to shoot the fire elemental, but the man was wise to fighting such weapons. He continually erected a flash heat shield in front of him. Swift lead balls turned to slow worthless chunks of slag.

 

“Come on, you cowards!” Ferghus’s words slurred slightly. “Or I’ll burn you where you stand.”

 

Kate’s brow furrowed. “The man’s bloody drunk.”

 

“That should make things easier.” Malcolm fired off another round.

 

“It makes him more dangerous, not less,” Nick said. “He burned down London in one of his drunken rages.”

 

“I’m not drunk enough for that, Barker, you lying sack of offal,” Ferghus spat. “But I’ll welcome turning your corpse to ash and raise a dram about it later.” The flame from one of the flickering gas lamps jumped to his hand and a blast of fire burst from his fingertips toward Kate. She dove to the ground under the blistering stream, but it was hot enough to catch her long coat. She slapped at it frantically, but the fire would not go out. Ferghus’s laughter rang in her ears. Her hands fumbled on her bandolier as the flames licked at her waist. Nick stood over her and, to her amazement, the flames fled from her clothes to his hand. He threw the ball of flame coiling across his palm into the river.

 

Ferghus unleashed a torrent of fire at the two of them. Kate cried out, but Nick didn’t flinch. He held up both hands and the flames split around them. He swung his arms and the flames gathered on him. Kate scrambled away as Nick became wreathed in fire. He continued pulling the flames away from Ferghus, but Kate could see the ferocious strain on him. Nick had not used her fire gel because he often used flame as a weapon, but she feared he would be consumed by it. He was adept at most mystic arts, but a true master of none. Ferghus had been a fire elemental for centuries.

 

Kate shot a vial at the Irishman as he struggled to regain control of his flames. Black treacle splashed him in a dark sticky shroud. He shouted in surprise. Nick let loose the flames straight back at Ferghus. The man caught fire. Kate gasped. She hadn’t expected that, but her treacle was a tar-based substance. However, the flames did nothing to Ferghus. He laughed, wild-eyed, his form shimmering in the heat. He leveled another ball of fire at her.

 

Kate ran and dove for shelter in one of the stone alcoves that lined the parapets of the bridge. She slammed her back against the wall of the domed niche as the flames curved around it. The hair on her skin seared off and the fire stole the oxygen around her.

 

Abruptly the vacuum was gone and Kate sucked in a deep hot breath. The retort of Malcolm’s pistols sounded. She dared to peer out and saw Nick on his hands and knees, looking spent. Malcolm was covering him as best he could.

 

Clay Griffith, Susan Griffith & Clay Griffith's books