Takeo's Chronicles, page 50
Meanwhile, Krunk was closing the distance on the old man, holding his gigantic meat-cleaver of a weapon with the poise of an oni. The man seemed to note this as well and replied with equally cautious steps, his eyes glancing at Krunk’s feet as much as his shoulders, and Takeo saw in that moment that Krunk was as bad off as Gavin and Nicholas. This old man knew how to fight.
Aiguo tried to dash forward and attack Gavin from the rear, but all of Yeira’s hesitation dissipated in that moment. She rushed in with equal fervor, her tears ending where her lover’s life was at stake, and she cut Aiguo off from reaching his target. The samurai hesitated, then made a quick slice at the woman—one she parried with ease.
“So, the scene is set,” the jinni said with a sing-song melody. “The players hath been chosen, and death will be wrought. Thou art delaying the inevitable, my champion.”
If you know why I’m here, then why not just give me what I ask for? Why are you playing these games?
“Ask?” the jinni replied. “Thou hath beseeched me for naught. I crave servants, not slaves, my champion. Bend thy knee and submit.”
Qadir turned on Nicholas with a fury, snarling and leaping at the viking in a powerful pounce with claws outstretched. Incredibly, Nicholas fell onto his back at the charge, dodging the blow and using one foot to boot the rakshasa over his head. Qadir’s claws raked at Nicholas’ clothes before the beast crashed into the soft sand, and Gavin was there a moment later to thrust his longsword, narrowly missing Qadir, who twisted and sprung to his feet. Nicholas was up a second later, taking up position beside the knight and holding his maul at the ready.
“Ah, now I see how you two survived the hydra,” Qadir said. “Pity such skill is wasted on the wrong side. You know, you’re both doomed.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Gavin replied through clenched teeth.
Across from them, Krunk let out a low grumble as he closed the distance with the old man. He was backing the mercenary into a corner, and Krunk’s face displayed a confidence that Takeo felt did not belong. The old man wasn’t hesitating like he should. He didn’t seem afraid or even concerned. He was luring Krunk into a trap, and Gavin was too distracted to help.
Fine, Takeo yelled into his own mind. I’ll submit. I’ve survived more than one despicable lord, why not another? What do you want? My sight, my limbs? Take them; they’re worthless in this moment. If you know why I’m here, then you know what I want. This world is in shambles, fighting and slaying each other for the petty rewards of power and wealth. I lost the love of my life—the only love I’ve ever had—to that greed. I want to put an end to it. What do you require of me to defeat my enemies?
“Which ones?”
All of them.
Aiguo made another swipe at Yeira, this one faster and unexpected, and the Kshatriya didn’t parry so easily this time. Aiguo smiled and leapt forward, swinging again, and Yeira gave ground. The determination in her face retreated.
“This is thy wish, then?” the jinni asked. “The strength to defeat all thine enemies?”
Krunk roared, and Takeo twisted in time to see the ogre swing his giant sword with all his inhuman strength, and also in time to see the old man dodge it, ducking under and swinging his own scimitar before Krunk could recover. The sword swept up the ogre’s chest, slicing open his armor and drawing blood. Krunk stumbled back, gripping the wound with one hand while dragging his sword with the other. The old man pressed his advantage, swinging again to cut the ogre down—a blow Krunk barely parried.
Yes! Yes! Takeo’s mind yelled. Put the power into my sword. Make it so that whoever should hold my sword is granted this power. If I should fall, then it will be up to whoever takes my weapon to lead in my place. Gavin will need this power, too. Hurry! Do it!
“As thou wish, so shall it be,” the jinni replied with a voice that smiled.
Nearby, Gavin yelled and barreled forward at Qadir with shield raised and longsword tip poised to strike from below. Qadir hissed in return and leveled his shoulder into the shield, stopping Gavin’s charge as if the knight had struck a wall, and caught Gavin’s pierce with one bare hand. The longsword drew blood from Qadir’s paw, but the rakshasa seemed unfazed as he yanked Gavin’s sword away, then rammed him back, sending the knight staggering away unarmed.
Nicholas tried to follow up by swinging his maul for Qadir’s head, but the rakshasa dipped, and dropped the longsword. The rakshasa tried to disarm him, too, but the viking would not relinquish his weapon so easily. He clung to it with an iron grip and tumbled to the ground as the rakshasa grabbed it and yanked. Qadir quickly reached down and grabbed Nicholas by the neck, claws extending out to pierce into the human’s throat.
“Typical viking,” Qadir said. “Hold that weapon tight now. Your end is here.”
Meanwhile, Krunk was still trying to limp away, desperately parrying the probing strikes the old mercenary was sending his way. The old man was grinning, toying with the ogre, watching his victim’s strength fade as the chest wound bled.
Opposite them, Aiguo had put Yeira’s back to a wall. She’d retreated as far as she could, but the cave was only so deep. Aiguo gripped his katana in both hands and readied the final flurry of blows that would break her defense.
And Gavin stood frozen in the center of it all, disarmed and running out of time. His eyes flicked from one death scene to the next, ending on Takeo, who was still lying prone on the sands, not moving, not even to breathe.
Takeo closed his eyes.
“Tis done,” the jinni whispered. “Arise my champion and bring this era to its knees. Thou art in luck. This exchange only cost thee thy soul.”
Good. It was rotten anyway.
In his hand, Takeo’s sword glowed hot as the sun. His eyes fell to see his katana burn red and then burst into flames, releasing a flash of light and heat so intense that the cave became an oven. Gavin raised his shield, Qadir roared and covered his eyes, Nicholas gasped through the choking grip on his neck, and Aiguo and Yeira paused, as did the old man and Krunk. The little rakshasa cub, who’d crawled over to hide behind a rock, stared with mouth agape, pupils shrinking to tiny dots in the sheer light.
The heat flowed through Takeo like burning oil, igniting his flesh, bones, lungs, and every other part of him except his heart. In spite of this, his sweating stopped, and the aching feeling in his body from the hydra’s poison burned away in a rush of pure fury. A feeling of raw intensity coursed through Takeo’s veins, so thick that his entire body tensed as if struck. He was suddenly a bottomless well of energy, as if he were at the precipice of a battle, his sword begging to be bathed in blood.
And he would grant that wish.
Takeo shouted and leapt to his feet, sweeping up his katana in both hands and gritting his teeth so hard they hurt. He scanned the cave with a warrior’s quickness, and he saw the old mercenary gasp and turn an eye towards Krunk before anyone else. Besides the rakshasa cub, the ogre was the most distracted and didn’t even notice the old mercenary raise his sword-point to Krunk’s throat.
“Stay where you are or the ogre dies,” the man said, pushing the tip into Krunk’s neck until the skin pulled tight.
Takeo breathed in deeply and released, an unholy energy welling inside his chest. Then he burst into a sprint with the speed of a minotaur, releasing just a sliver of the power that filled his body and threatened to explode from his skin. Before the old mercenary could blink, Takeo closed the gap between them and struck the man down with such a fury that his blade belched fire as it ripped the mercenary into two halves. The sword that pressed against Krunk’s neck fell harmlessly to the sand, splashing into the pool of its owner’s blood, which refused to be absorbed by the damp sand.
Across the way, Yeira gasped, and Aiguo startled. Gavin’s jaw went slack, while Qadir and Nicholas looked on dumbfounded; the rakshasa’s claws were still crushing the viking’s windpipe. Takeo let the silence stretch between them, breathing deeply once more with great effort. So much adrenaline was coursing through his body that he worried his body would shake and collapse if he dared breathe at a normal pace.
He let his gaze fall on Qadir, lowering his head so his vision narrowed, and the rakshasa could see the black abyss of his eyes.
“Let them go,” he warned.
“Takeo,” Gavin started, taking a cautious step towards him. “Takeo, did you . . . you did it, didn’t you? How? Where’s the jinni?”
“That’s not important right now,” Takeo replied and then spoke to the rakshasa again. “Let them go.”
“Not a chance,” Qadir growled and tightened his grip on Nicholas’ neck. “Make one move, and I’ll snap his neck. The way I see it—”
The sand and blood at Takeo’s feet exploded as he kicked off, crossing the cave with such speed that the air trembled with his passing. The rakshasa was quicker than the old man, and his claws bit down into Nicholas’ skin, drawing blood, before Takeo could close the distance. Nicholas gripped his weapon tightly, prepared for death, but Takeo reached the pair, and his katana flashed sparks, slicing the rakshasa’s fingers off at the knuckle and spraying the scene with rakshasa blood. Qadir roared and flew back, sprawling across the sands and gripping his right paw, which was now missing every finger but the thumb. Nicholas immediately gasped for air, and his free hand went to his neck where the rakshasa’s fingers were still lodged by the claws. He ripped them out and put a hand to the wound, applying pressure to the tiny trickles of blood.
“Nicholas?” Takeo asked, standing over the viking, his voice sounding deeper than he remembered.
“I’m fine, fine,” Nicholas replied, gasping and nodding. “I’ll live.”
Qadir roared again and scrambled away, pushing and kicking as he tried to crawl along, leaving a trail of blood that oozed from his severed fingers. Takeo followed the trail, pacing slowly while taking deep breaths to steady his rapid pulse. The rakshasa hissed and snarled at Takeo’s approach but did not rise. Then Qadir’s back hit a boulder, and Takeo closed the distance between them once more.
“That bastard jinni,” Qadir snarled, his breath ragged. “He stuck around to make a deal with you, didn’t he? What are you now? Immortal?”
“No,” Takeo replied. “I’m simply better than you.”
“Filthy human! What have you done?” Qadir snarled, gripping his stubby paw. “Our limbs don’t grow back! When I tell Lady Xuan about this, she’ll bring everything she has down upon you. You fool!”
“Lady Xuan only wants you to reproduce,” Takeo replied. “And I’m not so certain you’ll be telling her anything. Did Aiguo ever tell you how much I hate your kind?”
Takeo lifted his bloodied sword from the ground, letting the thick drops of red that clumped together fall through the air between them. Qadir’s eyes flicked to Aiguo.
“So he has,” Takeo continued, slowly raising the sword higher. “It’s more than just Emily, you know. Your kind has never been anything more than a blight on this world—a personification of tyranny and cruelty. When Lady Xuan first told me that your kind was being hunted down, I couldn’t help but think that justice was finally being done. She disagreed, of course, and sent me to return one male and female for her to breed. A part of me wants to deny her that gift. You see, I’m thinking there’s no place for you in the future. At least, not in the world I intend to create.”
He finished raising his blade, holding it aloft as a beacon of death for all to see. Every eye fell on Takeo unblinking, and every breath was held at his command. The silence was deafening, almost terrible, and yet Takeo felt so at peace he couldn’t have described it. Something about this felt right. Despite the anger, fury, and hatred, Takeo couldn’t help but feel a serenity of retribution flowing over him. This was the correct thing to do. He was judge, jury, and executioner, and in Emily’s honor, he would deal out to those what they deserved. For Emily, he would. . .
Emily.
Takeo blinked, his mind was blank. Her face hadn’t conjured itself along with her name. He froze, sword still poised over Qadir, and thought for all he was worth of what Emily looked like.
I know this, he thought. Brown, short, wavy hair. Freckles. Small nose, green eyes. Where is she? I know this. I know what she looks like. I know I do. Emily?
Why couldn’t he picture her face?
“Takeo,” Gavin whispered.
“Wait! Stop!” Aiguo cut in. “Takeo, don’t. Stop. Listen to me. I know why you’re hesitating, and you’re right.”
Takeo wasn’t listening. He was still motionless, sword held ready to strike Qadir, who lay prone before him, back against a boulder. The bleeding had stopped as the rakshasa’s wounds were already beginning to heal up. Takeo’s deep, slow breaths began to quicken as he continued to search his mind for the beautiful face of the person who’d taught him to love.
No, no. He took her. That jinni took her from me. My soul.
“Takeo, listen to me,” Aiguo said, setting down his sword and stepping away from Yeira. “Qadir is not Jabbar. He’s just a being on the run, trying to save his race. Is that really so bad? Not to mention what you stand to gain by letting him live: a place in Lady Xuan’s army, the chance to have a title and honor again. Those are things worth fighting for.
“And he’s right, by the way. Lady Xuan will never forgive you for slaying this one. She’ll put a bounty on your head so high that you’ll never sleep a whole night through again. And all for what? One rakshasa death? She’ll only find another. There are more out there, and you know it. That’s why you’re hesitating. You’ve always been a calculating person, so you can see the risk versus reward. Your friends won’t survive if you kill this rakshasa, and I’ve noted how important they are to you.”
Aiguo’s words slipped in one ear and out the other, but that last sentence struck hard enough on its way out to pull Takeo from his frantic search. He blinked and glanced around.
He saw Nicholas, a huge man in his prime just a bit over two decades old now, still lying on the sand with a bruised neck and covered in shallow flesh wounds. His thick mop of hair was the same brown as Emily’s had been, though it was hard to picture with the thick beard that Nicholas liked to grow. It made sense that they would have that similar color, though, as they were siblings. Hadn’t Takeo made a promise to Nicholas’ mother? To Emily’s mother? To protect that boy turned man as he sought a legendary status?
Nearby, Takeo saw Gavin. Broken, damaged, self-pitying Gavin, standing slack-jawed with shield still strapped to his arm. The knight who wanted to be everyone’s savior, a handsome and charming man with a heart big enough to take a beating, which it often did. He had green eyes, too, like Emily. If Takeo tried hard enough, he could almost see the resemblance.
And Krunk. Kind, unashamed, innocent Krunk. He was the ogre without bias, a creature who didn’t care if something was right or wrong, good or bad, grand or mundane. To Krunk, the world only consisted of those he cared about and those who wanted to harm those he cared about. Such a simple view, yet not without merit. Takeo had known someone else to think along such lines. He’d loved her with all his heart.
Once again, Takeo found himself admitting that Aiguo was right. He sighed and relaxed, and so did Qadir.
“Good, good,” Aiguo started. “Now let’s just put this all behind us.”
Takeo’s blade flashed in the blink of an eye, swinging hard and strong to sever Qadir’s right ankle, lopping off the rakshasa’s foot with striking ease. The katana belched fire as it made contact, partly cauterizing the wound and sending sparks of light and embers streaking out to fizzle in the sands. Qadir let loose a bloodcurdling howl and drew his leg in, leaving a trail of blood while his severed foot was flung away.
Takeo heard Yeira gasp and the others shout out. Nicholas scrambled to stand, and Takeo heard the viking’s knuckles pop as they gripped his weapon tight. Aiguo was stammering.
“Takeo!” Gavin yelled.
“What are you doing?” Aiguo shouted. “Stop! Lady Xuan will have your head for this!”
“He doesn’t need his foot to breed,” Takeo replied. “And he’s a rakshasa, so he won’t die of the wound. If he runs now, he won’t make it far. And if he changes form, I’ll know who he is. Not many in this world are missing both four fingers and a foot. And as for you, Aiguo.”
Takeo turned his bloodied sword on the man, letting his dark expression show.
“Lady Xuan doesn’t need you alive at all.”
Chapter 24
Takeo strode towards Aiguo with purposely slow steps. Each foot crunched the damp grains, providing the only interruption to Qadir’s howls and screams as the rakshasa tried to stem the blood flowing from his severed foot.
Aiguo went pale and his jaw slackened. He looked about frantically, but Takeo stood between him and the exit, and the closest person to him, Yeira, slipped away to barrel into Gavin’s arms. The knight clutched her tightly, yet they both looked on with eyes wide as Takeo paced toward his prey. Aiguo retreated until his back hit the very same wall where Yeira had once been cornered.
As he walked, Takeo let his sword fall until the tip fell into the sand and began to drag a clean line along the ground, leaving a trail of Qadir’s blood in the shallow trench.
“I’ll have you know, I’m quite confused,” Takeo said. “So much has happened so quickly that I’m having trouble keeping track of it all. Would you mind clearing things up for me?”
Aiguo glanced about again, his eyes finding no allies other than the crippled rakshasa whose breath was going shallow due to bloodloss. Takeo wasn’t sure if Qadir would pass out or not, but it was clear that the rakshasa wasn’t leaving this cave without assistance. When Aiguo’s gaze found the same thing, he dropped his sword and then fell to his knees before clasping both hands like a beggar.
