Eye of the Tornado Page 5

  A curving arc of red tore through a pair of troops, dropping them to the ground in a heap of flesh. Laser fire erupted in a spray of blinding red streaks that set leaves ablaze and left trunks scorched, but still more soldiers died at Kindel's hands. More and more fell, again and again. There was no stopping him. Even the greatest strategic mind in the universe wouldn't have been able to stand up to such a slaughter. Those blinding streams of energy tore through flesh and bone like it was cotton while not a single laser blast found its mark.

  He's going to kill me, Kit! Arus couldn't stop his thoughts; the fears flowed through the telepathic connection like a surging river through a broken dam. I can't stop him! Soldiers dropped around him in flickers of black that consumed his vision, each dark flash parted by a streak of red or purple. Arus wanted to run, wanted to scream, wanted to fall to his knees and beg for mercy, but he stood frozen, sword raised in front of him, body quivering in horror. And when the final Aeden soldier died in an explosion of blood that sent vital organs spewing across the crimson soaked ground, Arus found himself alone in the silent forest, surrounded by the mangled remains of the men who'd tried to protect him.

  "Arus!" Kitreena's voice came from the right. She was speeding toward him like a tiger rushing to the aid of her young, whip trailing behind her like tail. Her squad was right behind her, weapons raised for combat.

  "No, Kit!" Arus shouted, motioning for her to go back. "Stop! He'll just kill—"

  Too late. A lighting-fast series of purple and red streaks slashed through her squad like a baker at the cutting board, decimating her entire escort in a matter of seconds. The blood drained from her face as she watched in helpless terror, likely waiting for the blast that would end her life. Arus raced to her side and stood in front of her, daring Kindel to strike. Wherever he was.

  Then there was silence. The two of them stood there for what seemed like days, waiting for Kindel to deliver the final blow. Arus tried not to look at the sea of corpses on either side of them; it was a vision he already knew would follow him to his grave. Kitreena remained still, eyes wider than grapefruits, skin whiter than flour. When she finally spoke, her soft voice cracked through the woods. "I've seen a lot of things," she murmured, gaze distant with horror, "but I've never seen power like that. I've never seen death like that. These men never had a fighting chance. They couldn't even begin to defend themselves. Why? Why did they have to die? Why them and not me? Why am I still standing here?"

  "I could ask the same for myself," Arus muttered, his eyes darting about in search of Kindel. "With this kind of power, Kindel can't have any more use for the implant or the stones I stole. He's bloody near invincible!"

  "Foolish boy," Kindel's whisper echoed from the silence. "There is no such thing as too much power. Why settle for a thousand pieces of gold when I could have one thousand and one? I will regain what is rightfully mine, and you along with it."

  "Show yourself!" Kitreena screamed as loud as she could.

  "My work here is not complete," Kindel spoke once more. "There is yet more life to extinguish on this pitiful world." Again, the voice faded, leaving the two of them alone amongst the dead.

  "More life?" Kitreena repeated, her hands shaking visibly. "Damien! He's going to go after Damien!"

  "We've got to find him," Arus said, uselessly clicking the buttons of his communicator. "We can't let Kindel get to him first!"

  It was difficult to leave the corpses of so many good people behind, but there was little that could be done for them. The trees grew taller and further apart as they ran, making it easier to weave between them. Arus had lost his sense of direction during the massacre, but Kitreena seemed to know exactly where she was going. He followed her for several minutes until she skidded to a sudden halt, ears perked with her head held sideways. "Do you hear that?"

  "Your ears are much better than mine, you know that," he told her. "What is it?"

  "Someone is following us, I think." She turned her head up and stared into branches of orange leaves for a moment, then looked back at him. "It's them."

  Before Arus could ask who "them" was, a familiar hiss came from the left. "You're still two brainless children who never learn the lessons they're taught," Scimitar said, stepping into view. Kalibur joined him silently, the two moving forward as one. Both had already drawn their weapons. "You would've perished at our hands if not for the unfortunate circumstances of our previous encounter. This time, however, you won't emerge victorious."

  Whatever fears Kitreena may have had about Kindel seemed to vanish as she focused her attention on the ninjas. Eyes of ice thinned over her firmly set jaw, and she cracked her whip in Kalibur's direction. "We've already shown that we can keep up with you two," she warned, "so I suggest you rethink any consideration of combat."

  Arus, however, was not as confident. When he'd last faced Scimitar in battle, he had the implant's sensors to guide analyze his opponent's maneuvers and anticipate each attack. With the sensors offline, he could only rely on his training to guide him. Can I really keep up with him without the advantage of the implant?

  Kitreena shot him a brief sideways glance. Of course you can.

  "You don't look as though you're prepared for battle, little lady," Kalibur's raspy voice mocked as he pointed toward the exoskeleton wrapped around her wrist. "Was Lord Thorus too rough with you?"

  We don't have time for this, Kitreena said telepathically. We've got get to Damien before Kindel does. I don't know if we can outrun these two, but we have to try. Follow me.

  And suddenly they were running, fleeing through the trees in a blind flight away from Kindel's assassins. They'd gone barely twenty paces when Scimitar and Kalibur came down in front of them, dark eyes filled with satisfaction and something Arus would've described as hunger. They brandished their weapons in a menacing manner that said they were all too anxious to use them. "You've got nowhere to run," Scimitar taunted. "Our speed outclasses your puny human feet by a wide margin. There is no escape for you."

  None of it made any sense. Why would Thorus spare them and then send Scimitar and Kalibur? He could've killed both Arus and Kitreena just as easily as he had those soldiers. Instead, he sent his assassins to do it. Why?

  Regardless, the situation boiled down to one specific point for Arus. He could either cower in fear and allow himself to be captured, or put all of his training to the test against Kindel's best warriors. Given the options, the choice was clear, with or without the implant to supplement his skills as a swordsman. After all, it wasn't too long ago that he'd refused to rely on the implant at all! His grip on his sword became more firm as he took several steps to the left, undivided attention fixed on Scimitar. "Very well," he said, shifting into his battle stance, "let's see what you've got."

  Following his lead, Kitreena moved to the right, giving both herself and Arus space for the battle. Anxiety was clear in her eyes despite her solid expression—Damien will be all right, don't worry!—but she cracked her whip again, seemingly out of habit rather than intimidation, and turned her body sideways. With the way she shifted her feet, Arus half expected her to try running again. She silenced his concern when she opened her mouth.

  "Don't forget what happened last time," she growled. "History may just repeat itself."

  Kalibur's response was cold. "We haven't forgotten. That's the beauty of history; we can learn from our mistakes!"

  Arus and Scimitar began to circle each other, eyes locked in patient discipline, each waiting for the other to make the first move. It was Arus who broke the ice, dashing forward with a hard stab directed at Scimitar's chest. Only a fool believed that his initial strike would end the fight, and when one of the ninja's two curved swords knocked his own away, Arus was ready to counterattack. He twisted his body around and swung his foot up toward Scimitar's head, barely missing his face with the sole of his boot. Scimitar tried to slash through Arus' outstretched limb, but he drew it back quickly and brought his own sword blade down, razor-sharp steel meeting with a loud
clang.

  "You are indeed talented," the assassin sneered, swinging his second weapon toward Arus' ribs, "but you pale in comparison to my prowess."

  Dayne Sheeth's sword rotated down and blocked the attack with ease. "Confidence becomes dangerous when it turns into arrogance. You would do well to remember that."

  Back and forth they went, trading blows and dodging others. Arus spun his sword with a fluid, almost graceful style that turned away every attack Scimitar threw at him. Their weapons moved in a blur, clashes stringing together in an endless repetition of steel against steel. Sparks sailed into the air more than once. Arus put up a good fight, but it wasn't long before Scimitar broke through his defenses, and a curved blade sank into his right arm just above the elbow. He gritted his teeth and jerked away, grabbing the tip of Scimitar's weapon in his steel hand. The ninja yanked angrily at the hilt of his sword, but Arus' mechanical grasp was stronger. "You won't be needing this anymore," he grunted, pulling the sword from his opponent's hand. The blade sailed into the air behind him and clattered to the ground near a distant tree.

  "It makes little difference," Scimitar scoffed, swirling his remaining sword around his body. "The first blood has already been drawn, and it won't end there."

  Arus spared a glance for his bloody arm. The cut was a bloody mess, lining the rest of his arm with streaks of crimson. The pain grew with each second passed, a sharp searing jolt that shot through his entire arm. I've already lost one arm. I'll not lose another! A quick look in Kitreena's direction showed that her fight wasn't going much better. Somehow, she'd lost her whip, and the belly of her shirt had been torn where Kalibur's blade had apparently skimmed her stomach. The tattered blue garment had turned a dark purple around the tear where her blood had soaked through the fabric. Despite the injury, she stood firm in her fighting stance, left arm forward with an open hand, right fist lightly clenched beside her cheek. Kalibur, on the other hand, held his sword with confidence, clearly untouched by any of Kitreena's attacks thus far. Are you all right? Arus called out. Can you Morph?

  I'm fine. Don't worry about me; focus on your opponent. Even in her thoughts, he could hear the pain she was suffering through. His question had been ignored, as well.

  There was no time to further the discussion, as Scimitar lunged forward with a heavy slash directed toward Arus' chest. Without a second thought, Arus threw his mechanical arm up to block the attack. The blade made contact, and Arus swiped his own sword out with his free hand, slicing a long gash across the dark ninja's chest. Scimitar groaned and stumbled back, clutching the wound. Arus gave him no chance to recover, stepping forward with another swing that opened the back of the ninja's wrist. Oddly, when the fabric of Scimitar's uniform parted, Arus thought he saw black flesh. What are these guys?

  The wind picked up in the blink of an eye, thrashing the trees with torrential gusts and tearing leaf-covered limbs into the sky. Lightning struck, setting several higher branches ablaze as the sky rolled with thunder. Streaks of electricity illuminated the battlefield as the struggle continued, each fighter practically oblivious to the treacherous conditions looming overhead. Darkness swirled to the east and west, rotating with fearsome speed, descending into two columns of twisting black. The tornadoes tore through woods on impact, pulling trees and roots together into the air with seemingly minuscule effort. The eastern tornado headed south, while the other shifted to the north. The pull of the wind was strong, but Arus knew that taking his eyes away from his opponent would likely bring a quick end to their duel.

  He wiped fresh blood from his lip where Scimitar's foot had found its mark. Throbbing pain pulsed deep within his wounded arm, a cold numbness skittering over his skin. There was no time for pain, he knew, but forcing his body to agree was not an easy task. Each time his weapon connected with Scimitar's, the vibration of the impact rolled through his arm, further amplifying the agony. I've got to end this soon. Once more, he launched a series of attacks, watching for the right opportunity. They moved in a blur; Scimitar set a furiously quick pace. How he had lasted so long without the help of the implant was beyond him, but he wasn't about to argue the fact. And when a high parry brought Scimitar's injured wrist into view, Arus lunged forward with a downward cut that nearly severed his hand clean off. Scimitar's other sword dropped to the ground, and Arus pressed his blade against his neck. "You've lost," he said confidently. "Surrender and your life will be spared."

  To his surprise, Scimitar reached up with a gloved hand and yanked the hood of his uniform away, exposing a vile creature that made Arus' nerves tremble. His head looked something like a snake's, though more round. In place of scales, he was covered with thousands of black spines that lined his scalp like hair, the longest only extending by a few inches. They were tilted backward down the back of his oily black head, though they seemed to rise a little with each breath taken. As for his face, Scimitar was a serpent in every sense of the word, from the wide mouth to the dripping fangs to the flickering tongue. His eyes, startlingly human, gained a deeper look of hatred when combined with the way his forehead sloped downward between them. Arus had long suspected that Kindel's assassins were not human, but this was not quite what he'd anticipated. Scimitar grabbed the sword tip that had been pressed against his throat and yanked it from Arus' hand before lunging forward, fangs gleaming against lightning, eyes shimmering with darkness. The two of them fell to the ground in a struggling pile.

  "Get off me!" Arus growled, trying to get a knee between himself and the beast. "I said get off!"

  "It has been too long since I have been fed properly!" Scimitar hissed, his crimson tongue flicking toward the boy's face.

  Out of options, Arus was forced to resort to the one thing he hated to use the most. As Scimitar pinned his shoulders to the dirt, Arus' mechanical eye began to glow a brilliant shade of red. "I gave you the chance to live!" he screamed. "You ignorant wretch!" The creature's teeth were inches from his face when the laser fired, searing a fist-sized hole through his revolting head. His grip loosened almost instantly, and Arus was all too grateful to throw the ninja's corpse aside. Muscle spasms rippled through his body for a moment before he finally stilled.

  Arus groaned as he rose to his feet. Only then did the reality of what had happened strike him; he had faced one of the Vezulian Armada's greatest warriors, trusted by Kindel Thorus as a personal bodyguard, and not only survived the encounter, but came away victorious. Whether his training was paying off, or whether it was just crazy luck, Scimitar was dead, and Arus had lived to tell the tale.

  *******

  The bleeding gash across Kitreena's belly stung every time her shirt brushed against it. The ragged cloth had been her favorite not too long ago, though she could probably fix it up when she returned to the ship. If she returned. The prospect of leaving Arynias alive was looking more and more unlikely, and not simply because Kalibur was proving to be more difficult to deal with than expected. On either side of the fight, twisting funnels of darkness descended, whirring like starship engines as they ripped the forest apart. Neither headed directly toward them, but that certainly didn't guaranteed safety. A couple of strikes of lightning would complete the job just as well, though if the weather didn't kill them, Kindel Thorus probably would.

  The environment set up a terrifying scenario, and that was the core of Kitreena's problem. With her anger being consistently shadowed by fear, she had no way of summoning the will she needed to Morph. Dying in battle was one thing, but being torn apart in a tornado or burnt alive by a lightning blast was quite another. Even natural weather conditions would've been less frightening than whatever was going on above. Kindel was responsible, of that she was certain, but after seeing his brutal display of power in tearing apart her squad of soldiers, she no longer had any desire to face him. Not that he should be left alone, of course, but watching men she'd worked with and trusted being literally torn in half was enough to make her wish someone else could do the job. The very thought hit her hard; she wanted someone else
to fight for her! It made her sick to her stomach for more reasons than one.

  But there would be time for all that later, provided she managed to defeat Kalibur. Arus' arm was bleeding bad, she noticed, but other than that he seemed to be holding his own against Scimitar. As for her, a sharp kick from Kalibur had knocked her whip from her hand—her good hand; she'd thus far been able to refrain from relying on her injured wrist—and that had been followed by the slice to her stomach. She could see the handle of her weapon in the leaves a short distance behind the white ninja, but getting to it was easier said than done. It was Kalibur's long sword versus her bare hands, and a single misstep could leave her insides spilled across the ground. She'd faced tougher battles before—Haven't I?—and she knew that no one was without flaws. Kalibur may have been trained well, but nobody was perfect.

  The ninja lunged at her, swinging his blade toward her middle again. Kitreena sank to her knees and grabbed his wrist with her braced hand, looking to drive the other into his outstretched elbow. He recovered quickly, twisting his body forward so that his arm was no longer taut, and he regained the leverage he had given up. His sword was flying again in seconds, sailing toward a kneeling Kitreena in a streak of silver. She rolled onto her back as the blade sailed over, then planted her hands behind her head and threw her feet into the air, launching herself boots-first toward Kalibur. Her heels struck his chest hard, sending him stumbling backward while she landed hard on her backside once again. Scrambling, she leapt to her feet and dove toward her whip, grinning in relief as her fingers wrapped around the leather handle. The bleeding wound in her middle seared as her stomach scraped across the leaves and dirt, but she was back on her feet in no time, whirling her weapon around her body as Kalibur raced toward her.

  "Let's see how you fight without a weapon!" she snarled, flicking her wrist forward. The whip's tail end snapped hard against his sword, and another crack connected with his fingers. He made a sound that resembled a snake's rattle as he recoiled in pain and dropped the long blade. Kitreena continued forward, snapping and cracking her weapon against Kalibur's knees and chest and arms, advancing until she was standing on the ninja's weapon. "I think you lost something," she gloated, kicking the sword behind her. "Don't worry, you won't need it anymore." Thunder crackled overhead despite the streaks of blue sky that shone through the swirling clouds.