Chapter 425
Cyprus stood before Sadihra, his hand on her cheek, his expression a mixture of grief and joy.
Katelina had to strain to catch his words. "If I'd known, I - I fought for you, for your memory, because he let you die and he didn't care. You deserved better and I - I only wanted-"
"I know," Sadihra said. "Now lower your weapon, call them off. Leave Malick. End this before it's too late and your misplaced grief helps destroy the world."
Wolfe charged and Sadihra shouted to stop him. Cyprus whirled but he wasn't fast enough. Katelina raised herself on one elbow and gaped. She could see the scene in freeze frame; Cyprus, one hand on Sadihra's shoulder, his eyes wide, his mouth open, and Wolfe's bloody sword stuck through his stomach.
The Scharfrichter pulled the blade free and Cyprus stumbled backwards, clutching the gushing wound, and fell against a heap of rubble. Wolfe raised his sword and made to attack again, but Sadihra threw herself in front of him. "H?r sofort auf! Stop! Enough!"
Cyprus struggled to his feet, his fist pressed to the hole in his stomach. He met Wolfe's cold gaze and stepped forward, the sabre barely raised above his waist.
"Cyprus, stop!" Sadihra shouted angrily. "It's enough. You're both little boys and it has gone on long enough. Stop before you're dead."
Though Katelina only had eyes for this confrontation, other vampires were struggling out of the rubble and little fights were starting. Sorino fired his duck foot pistol and a black clad vampire fell into the debris with a cloud of dust. Verchiel dug for his sword, absently knocking a half blind attacker back with a piece of metal like the one Wolfe had used. One of the Algojo, his hood missing, chopped the head off a foe with a single stroke.
One of the Children f Shadows dropped down from the floor above and landed behind Wolfe. The Scharfrichter spun to fight him with a snarl and Sadihra fell back in a defensive crouch. A second landed in the rubble in front of her, and then a third behind her.
She had no weapon, but waved her hand and sent a chunk of rock slamming into the back of her first attacker. The force knocked him forward into her, and with a cry they went over. She threw him aside, and the second swooped in, stabbing with a long, thin knife for her heart.
Katelina squeezed her eyes shut, but she heard the horrible cry. She opened them to see Sadihra on her back, Cyprus on top of her. The attacher stared in confusion, his knife buried in his leader's chest.
The vampire fell back, and with a swipe Wolfe removed his head. The blood splattered and sprayed in a pulsing shower as the body fell. Wolfe threw Cyprus' to the side and wrenched Sadihra to her feet. He shouted something that was probably, "Are you all right?"
Sadihra pushed him aside and dropped to the ground next to Cyprus' fallen body. The knife protruded from his chest and, though Sadihra wrenched it free, even Katelina could tell he was dead. He'd betrayed them, killed, maimed, and died for nothing.
Just another of Malick's pawns.
The headless body of his killer twitched and spasmed, and Wolfe slammed his sword through its chest in disgust, then tugged Sadihra to her feet. "There is still a fight!"
Unlike the movies, the bad guys didn't know their leader had fallen, and they fought on. A pair danced over the top of Katelina, locked in combat. Though she lay still until they passed, it was enough to frighten her back to reality and she turned her attention to freeing herself.
The chunk of rock was heavy, but with the threat of death she was able to lift it enough to slide out. She tested both of her legs and felt up and down them. They were bruise tender, but not broken. Her back still burned from Ronnell's attack, and her shoulder throbbed. It was as if she was making up for going unscathed in the last battle.
She'd lost her sword in the explosion, and like Verchiel she dug through the rocks. She found one of the guard's swords with a broken tip. It was better than nothing and she took a couple of practice swings with it.
Armed, she searched the melee for Jorick. The floor he'd been on had a fresh pile of rubble and terror bubbled in her. Was he buried under the debris? She looked frantically for a way to reach him. What was left of the stairs was useless and, unlike the vampires, she couldn't jump the distance.
She looked for help and located the bald vampire and Loren back to back, fending off a pair of attackers. She started to call to them when the air turned heavy and alive with electricity, like standing in the middle of a thundercloud. She fell back a step and raised her broken sword, though she didn't know what she was fighting off. She looked quickly to see others doing the same, enemies and allies alike.
The heaviness grew, until she struggled to hold her sword up. A deep, angry thrumming started in her ears and she understood.
It was Malick.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the ancient master appeared at the top of the stairs. He stood alone, his black robes replaced by scarlet, and the golden crown gleaming on his head. His voice boomed and echoed from the remnants of the building. "What a mess you make, my children, as you scrabble and clutch amidst the blood and ruin. Ants struggling in the mud."
One of the Algojo stepped forward. Katelina could feel his presence, like a rolling storm, but it was nothing compared to Malick's. "Why have you come?"
"Does not blood always draw a crowd?" Malick asked. "Alas, I am not here for such cheap entertainment. I have come to collect something which belongs to me."
He met Katelina's gaze. She tried to look away but the darkness in the depths of his eyes pulled her in. The world faded to one of polished mahogany and glittering topaz. She was wrapped in silence, trapped in a maze with crystal walls and she couldn't get out.
"Do you want to, child? There is nothing for you out there."
But there was.
Jorick. Where is Jorick?
"Leave her alone!"
The world slammed back and she fell to her knees, gasping for breath. Tears rolled down her face. She wiped them with shaking hands and raised her head to see Jorick standing before Malick. His long black hair was wild about his face and his countenance was at once beautiful and terrible, like an avenging angel. Katelina could feel his power rolling, crushing, threatening the ancient master with its fury.
"And so you come to her defense, my son. You think you can save her, but you're mistaken. You can no more deliver her from her fate than you could the other from the flames. My poor child, destined to know the ache of loss again and again."
The other. Of course he meant Velnya, Jorick's first wife, who'd been burned alive for witchcraft, thanks to Malick's interference. The thought of Velnya was enough to force Katelina to her feet. She wasn't a weak, pathetic little thing like Velnya. She was not going to be used as a toy to torture Jorick with!
"No." The building seemed to shake with the force of Jorick's anger. "You are the one who's mistaken."
The aura of Jorick's power grew, stretched and strengthened, until it was almost too much for Katelina to take. She looked to see the other vampires falling back, as if from a clash of two ancient masters. And why not? How old had Malick been when he'd fostered Jorick? How old was the blood that ran through his veins?
