Secondhand Sorcery

They were most of the way across the bridge when disaster fell from the sky. Maria and Yuri were in the lead truck, with the girl Polina. Ruslan drove alone in the protected middle, as always. That left Nadia and Fatima bringing up the rear, stewing in the combined halo of Ézarine and Mister Higgins as they tore the bridge to pieces behind them.

Mister Higgins did the actual destruction, while Ézarine perched on the roof of Yuri’s car to look for trouble ahead, trying not to hear poor Polina scream and cry, and Yuri threaten to gag her. It was an extraordinarily long bridge—a twenty-minute drive at the fastest speed they could manage while still comprehensively wrecking it behind them. More than once Nadia thought that, if there had been more than a single path to go on, somebody would have peeled off from the caravan to escape. A quarter-hour was a simply inhumane ordeal to endure under a halo that told you it was all stupid and you ought to quit. Doubly so when you were already thinking it.

Nadia clenched her teeth till they hurt, and punched the seat beside her. Polina raged, and Yuri cursed back, and Maria hissed her anger at both of them to shut up so she could stay on the road, and Nadia had to hear them all until she couldn’t anymore, and Ézarine flicked down inside the car to end it. A slap to Yuri, another hand over Polina’s mouth, which she could chew as she liked and make no difference. The girl gnawed like a rat, and thrashed to escape, but Ézarine held on until she was exhausted. Then Nadia returned her minion to her rooftop vigil, knowing she had been cruel but blessing the silence.

They rode in sullen peace for thirty more seconds, and the end of the bridge had just come in sight, before Ézarine saw the spark of fire in the sky. Maria saw it too, and braked at once, just as the far end of the bridge spat up a cloud of dust where it met Russian soil. About two seconds later—maybe three—as the last echoes of the destruction behind them faded away, the nearest pieces of the bridge splashing into the water to clog the strait—they heard the noise, faint but clear, and thought they felt a rumble through the bridge.

Fatima, meanwhile, could see nothing from the back of the line. “What the hell is going on?” she shouted. “Why are we stopping?”

“Checking,” Nadia said through her teeth. Ézarine was already several hundred feet in the air. “The far end’s destroyed. There’s maybe a five-meter gap now.” The horn honked as Fatima threw herself down on the wheel, drowning out, Nadia assumed, a storm of bad words. Then they heard an ominous groaning from behind them, and Fatima came back to life in a hurry, swerving around Ruslan and stomping on the gas. The truck shook as Mister Higgins fell off the back and faceplanted on the asphalt. “What are you doing?”

Fatima’s only answer was to accelerate a little faster, so that Nadia could see her pass before Ézarine’s eyes. Maria followed at once, leaving Ruslan scrambling in the rear. Behind him, a ten-meter block of road gave way with an awful shriek of tearing metal; Mister Higgins made a mighty leap to escape and landed, once more, on his fat stomach. But Fatima was already slowing down again, craning her neck to look up at the tiny red flower of fire in the sky, suddenly not so tiny. “Aw, hell. Company.”

It fell like a shooting star, only to unfurl and slow at the last second, braking itself with spread wings and a gout of fire. When the last sparks flew away they saw a black shape like the standing shadow of a man, small with distance but still far too big, blocking their way forward. Nadia didn’t need to see him to know he was an emissant; she could feel the impingement where his halo pushed against theirs.

Ézarine joined them for an instant inside the truck, just long enough to pick up one of the largest rifles from their considerable stash of stolen weapons. It had a low-tech scope on it, good enough for Ézarine to peer through the five hundred meters between them with her black-pit eyes and see a giant with flesh like smooth obsidian stone, pure midnight dark. His eyes were a brilliant fiery red, like the haze of heat that kindled around his broad shoulders, periodically erupting into tongues of fire.

Just to see what would happen, Ézarine pulled the trigger. The ordinary laws governing ballistics could be shrugged aside here, irrelevant, if she so chose, and she did. The black stone giant’s halo evidently did not care either; the bullet struck him cleanly between his eyes, but made nothing more than a brief flash of sparks where it hit. The stone was as clean and undisturbed as before. Nadia heard the shot with her own ears a full second later, as Ézarine swept the scope over the rest of the bridge’s span, past the giant.

“I don’t see the emissor anywhere on the bridge,” she reported. “Keep driving. We might push him back, between us.”

“On it,” Fatima said, and gently pushed down the accelerator. What remained of the span behind them was mercifully stable; this was not Lim Island, thank God. Maria and Yuri could follow more slowly, and Ruslan last of all, clinging to their coattails.

“He’s a man of black stone, covered in fire and heat. Does that ring a bell?” Fatima shook her head. Oh well. They would find out what he could do soon enough. Ézarine retreated back to the hood of their truck with the rifle; Mister Higgins had made his way onto Yuri’s. Nadia returned her attention to the enemy—“Hey, where did he go? Did you see?”

“I’m busy here,” Fatima grunted back. A stream of giant bubbles flew overhead, settling into a moving wall everywhere but directly in their path. The added defense was welcome; the complete blindness, not so much. She sent Ézarine out past the barrier to reconnoiter. She could tell that the strange emissant was close by the pressure against her halo, but the road ahead was clear. Where was he?

A glint of light caught the edge of Ézarine’s vision, and she looked up into blue sky—

Nadia never saw what it was that came down, but it came down fast and hard, and it punched a fresh hole in the bridge, two meters across and fifty away, just past the bubbles. Fatima yelped and braked again, and the bubbles drifted loose for a moment before rejoining. “That’s in our halo!”

Another thump, from behind this time. Ruslan raced forward in a panic, nearly ramming them in his speed to get away. Fatima swore and hit the accelerator again, swerving to avoid Ruslan without landing their own truck in the hole. Nadia heard a loud hiss, and something slammed into the water just to their right, sending up a plume of steam. “Fireballs?”

“You think I know?” Ahead of them, Ruslan’s car skidded to a halt again as yet another projectile struck the bridge, smashing a fresh hole to his left. Fatima shifted the bubbles to cover them more from the air. “At least his aim is shit.”

“Yes, from a football field away.” Another hit, in the water to the left. More steam. “Unless he’s running out of ammo, that doesn’t matter. He can just smash the bridge until it falls apart and we drown.”

“No way. I can float us, like in Syria—“

The next shot tore clean through her bubbles, like they weren’t even there, to make another hole behind Yuri’s truck. “You were saying?”

Fatima slapped the wheel with both hands. “What the fuck is he throwing? This is bullshit!”

“It doesn’t matter. Keep moving. The longer we sit here, the more of the bridge will fall apart and the harder it will be to get off it.”

Fatima sighed. “Forward. Yeah.” She reached out to shift gears, only for Maria and Yuri to take off past them, tires squealing. “Oh, god, that can’t be good.”

“Follow them!”

“Yeah, yeah.” The bubbles shifted into a light and shifting screen as they moved on, just enough to maybe make it harder for whoever-it-was to aim. Nadia moved Ézarine onto the roof of Yuri’s truck, to keep an eye on him. “They’re going too damn fast. If another hole opens up right in front of them … “

But it didn’t. For whatever reason, the familiar (she could see him still, floating calmly in the sky) didn’t throw any more projectiles. Only sat in place and watched as they drew closer, eating up the space between them. The pressure was increasing, but he showed no signs of giving way; his emissor would have to be very close. Ézarine picked the rifle back up to scan the near shore through its scope—

There was a flash of red light, and the familiar went flying backwards off the truck’s roof to tumble across the roadway. Nadia winced; it wasn’t exactly pain that Ézarine felt, but it wasn’t pleasant, and Nadia could feel it through her. Nobody had ever really hurt Ézarine before. She picked herself up as the trucks sped past, brushing herself off. There was something caught in her long black hair; she reached up, and pulled out a shattered piece of the scope, covered in what looked like asphalt. “Oh no.”

Fatima’s head whipped around, even as she kept driving. They weren’t far from the end of the bridge now. “What? Is she hurt? We’re lucky she was there to eat that one.”

Nadia shook her head. “No, we’re not. He wasn’t shooting anymore until she picked up the gun again. Fatima, he doesn’t have bad aim at all. He knocked the gun right out of her hands without scratching the truck beneath. He was missing on purpose!”

“Why would he do that?”

Maria and Yuri halted at the final gap; across it stood a substantial force of tanks with enormous guns. There were men beside every tank, holding rifles at the ready. The emissor was nowhere in sight, but the familiar was lowering himself back to earth now. His man’s shape had changed to a thing like a dragon, with enormous dark wings and a long snaky neck. Carelessly he perched on one of the tanks, which crumpled slightly under his weight. His halo felt like a solid wall. Nadia moved Ézarine back to the top of Yuri’s truck, for whatever good it would do. If he could hit them with impunity, while nothing they had, save bullets, could pass the boundary …

Ézarine heard the rear passenger-side door open beneath her, and looked down to see Yuri step out, dragging a struggling Polina behind him. She was bigger than he was, and fought like mad, but went limp when he pulled a pistol out of his pocket and pointed it at her. “Stand down!” he shouted. “Stand down, or she eats it!” His voice cracked on the last word.

Across the gap, all the men shifted aim, so that every rifle was pointed directly at Yuri. The dragon melted, and reshaped itself into something more like an enormous black panther. There was no other movement.

Yuri shifted aim so the gun was pointed right at her head. “Hey! I mean it! Back the hell off! I’ll straight-up snuff this bitch!”

“Oh hell,” Fatima groaned. “What if he does? We’ll all be dead before she’s cold.”

She could at least have spared a thought for the one innocent person in the middle of all this. But most of Nadia’s irritation was directed at Yuri. Had he even thought what was next, if his blustering didn’t get the whole force to back away? Of course not.

Nadia spared a glance back. Ruslan was once more in the rear, slightly off to their left, with Mister Higgins on his roof. She and Fatima were almost directly behind Yuri. Ézarine was still in place on the roof of Yuri’s truck. Nobody looked like they planned to use those guns, and the tank things might not even be occupied, but she had no idea what halo they were under. The stone panther shifted his weight slightly and growled, a deep noise less like a great cat than an earthquake. Actual fire was streaming from his eyes now.

“Screw this,” Fatima declared. “I’m giving us cover.” The bubbles overhead started to descend, settling into the gap so they could block rifle fire. They got most of the way down before Yuri suddenly yelped, and the gun went off, and everything went to hell.

Ézarine looked down, saw Yuri clutching a bloody left hand, the pistol forgotten on the ground, howling about how the rotten bitch bit him. She looked forward, and saw Polina running for the gap, trailing blood behind her. Looked up at a noise, and saw the panther rearing back, the fires in his eyes raging high. Looked down again, saw ranks of men tracking with their guns, looking for a clear shot around the running girl.

She made her decision at once. She flickered forward, grabbed Polina, and hauled her back in front of Yuri. At the same moment the panther’s head whipped forward, with a noise like a cannon shot, and the whole top of Ruslan’s truck was torn away in a massive jet of flame. Mister Higgins went flying backwards. Fatima screamed. The panther reared back again—and paused, looking them over.

Long seconds passed. Yuri had retreated back into the truck, leaving Polina and Ézarine behind. The men held their fire. The giant cat only glared. Why? “He doesn’t want to hit her,” Nadia breathed.

“What?” Fatima was turned around in her seat, looking at the remains of the third truck. “Dammit, I can’t see Rus! Was he hit?”

“If he’s smart, he’ll stay hidden,” Nadia snapped. “We can’t help him now. But we might help ourselves.” The panther jumped lightly down from the ruined tank to take a few leisurely, graceful paces over to its right. “Oh no you don’t,” she hissed. Ézarine appeared in front of their truck’s driver-side door, holding Polina, and the cat froze in place.

“What are you doing?” Fatima was still craning her neck to look for Ruslan. Nadia didn’t dare turn her head.

“We’re safe as long as he doesn’t know she’s not in the line of fire. He’ll kill us all the moment she’s clear.” Another flicker, and Polina and Ézarine were in their own back seat. Nadia spared a glance back, and saw the girl was breathing hard, a dark red spot spreading across the white collar and apron of her uniform. Another problem for the list. Ostentatiously Nadia moved them both to the roof of Yuri’s car, just long enough to register visually, then back in their own backseat. The soldiers were too far away to tell for sure where she was.

“Okay,” Fatima said, her hands shaking on the wheel. “Okay. That’s good. What next?”

“I don’t know,” Nadia confessed.

“Shit!”

Nadia set Ézarine to work, looking over Polina to find the wound. Yuri’s bullet had gone through her shoulder, by the look of things. God knew what it had hit inside. Brutally Ézarine clapped down her hand on the wound, ignoring her howls of pain. “How is Mister Higgins? Can you use him?”

“I think so. He got roughed up, but … yeah.” The panther was pacing back and forth along the bridge’s former edge now, glaring red death in their general direction.

“Give us cover. Just sight cover, I know he can shoot through. As long as he can’t see clearly.” The old ones had popped when their maker got hit.

“Yeah.” Fatima still sounded distracted. Polina’s noise wasn’t helping; at the moment, Nadia couldn’t spare any more charitable feelings in her direction, but sent her back to Yuri’s vehicle so she could be his problem. He’d started this, after all, and was useless for the moment. Maria got to work holding pressure, and ordered Yuri to rip up the apron for bandages—thank God she at least was sensible—and Ézarine returned to their vehicle’s roof. The panther promptly reared back, and she retreated into Nadia’s truck just as another bolt of hellfire shot past the place where she had been.

“This isn’t getting us out of here,” Fatima pointed out. Mister Higgins was safe behind their own vehicle, burbling away, but he wasn’t working like usual. Only a few dozen bubbles had appeared so far, drifting sluggishly into position.

“Why don’t you try complaining some more, then. That will fix it. Or don’t. I need to think.”

The enemy emissant was melting again, turning into a jet-black angel. Slowly he raised himself into the air, peering down carefully over the scene. Nadia saw the danger, and moved Ézarine and Polina into place right over Mister Higgins for a split-second, then back. The angel got the message at once, and paused in place, crossing his arms over his burly chest.

Fatima snapped her fingers. “Damn, that’s it. Valence push.”

“What about it?” Nadia said, keeping her eye on the angel.

“That’s why he’s punching right through my shit. He’s got that whole gang to draw on, and we’ve got six people. No wonder.”

“On it.” They were at no risk of running out of guns. Ézarine snatched up a knockoff H&K and got to work on the riflemen, flickering around to avoid drawing the angel’s fire. Three or four men went down, and the rest were in full retreat, before Nadia saw the angel rise into the air, his hands glowing red. Ézarine dropped the gun, grabbed Polina, and jumped on the rear of their own truck, then to the top of Yuri’s. Back and forth, back and forth, bubbles drifting annoyingly across his field of vision. No safe shot.

“He hits my boy again, we’re probably toast,” Fatima said. “The whole damn halo will drop, and he’ll have us.”

“I know that! This is all I can do.” Until Polina bled out and died, or somebody ordered the emissor to attack anyway, a stalemate was the best she could manage.

A burst of gunfire sounded from the lead truck, and the soldiers resumed their flight. Nadia didn’t stop moving her human shield, only silently blessed them for showing initiative. This was all they had, at the moment. But within seconds all the gunmen were safe behind their tanks, and the guns fell silent.

Back and forth went Ézarine, flicking like a metronome. Mister Higgins was still producing more bubbles, and now they were settling into a thicker barrier, obscuring the trucks entirely. Soon they would be totally safe, and blind, and immobile, but if that was the best they could do, it would at least give them time to think, and let Ézarine do something productive—

A streak of red light tore through the air above the cars, burning the bubbles away in a wide swath. Nadia froze at the sight, and Ézarine with her—too long. Polina was covering Yuri; the angel flapped his wings just once to get a higher vantage, and sent his next bolt of flame over her head to rip through the rear of Nadia’s truck, striking Mister Higgins full in the back. The world went grey, and vanished away, as Nadia’s head thumped into the dashboard.