Chapter 35

REALM OF THE MIND

Talia moved like a dancer.

The moment her pack hit the ground, she had twin half-staves in her hands, drawn from between the fuel tanks. Augustus hadn’t even realized she carried them. She spun and stepped, breaking down skeletons before they could fully rise. When one managed to get close, she cracked its skull, and it shattered like glass.

He didn’t have time to admire her skill. The Puppeteer was still standing.

Threads snapped from the gaunt man’s fingers, intercepting every bolt of fire and lightning Augustus hurled, but each strike burned or severed more threads. The man was running out of tricks.

More skeletons surged from the sewer, flowing past Mercy where she crawled and sobbed. Even with Talia sweeping their flank, the two of them were being pressed tighter and tighter.

The Puppeteer turned to check on Mercy, stumbling over a stray bone. Augustus lunged, shoulder lowered. He plowed through a group of skeletons and caught the man in the stomach. With a grunt, he lifted him clean off the ground and slammed him onto his back.

A skeleton grappled him from the side, carrying him several feet from the Puppeteer. Augustus elbowed its skull off, then turned to where Mercy was crawling. With a snap of his wrist, he sent a disk of wind racing toward her. It cut through the shoulder, severing her left arm in a spray of arterial blood.

She rolled across the ground, shrieking. Augustus gave chase, blast after blast raining down on her. Mercy shielded her head with her remaining arm, but flesh peeled away under the assault. The bone beneath blackened and charred from the fire, and her arm buckled.

She was almost done.

Then, with a howl, the Puppeteer leapt onto Augustus’s back. Strings flared, each one coming at the cost of what little flesh remained of his arms. It was enough to grab Augustus, wrench him sideways, and hurl him into Talia.

They both hit concrete, rolled, and came up swinging. Skeletons closed in, reaching for them. One got its fingers around Talia’s neck before she shattered its spine with her staves.

Regaining their feet, they turned back to where Mercy had been. And froze.

The thing before them was no longer just Mercy.

Strings woven of the Puppeteer's flesh had fused their bodies together. Her wounded shoulder stitched into his. His arm stitched into her side. Even as they watched in horror, more of the Puppeteer’s flesh unwound itself into more strings, only to pierce Mercy's body and bind her even tighter to him. Her body jerked with unnatural spasms while he grinned with pure bliss.

Not at them.

At her.

Together they formed a grotesque two-headed, four-legged monstrosity. Mercy began screaming, thrashing, but trapped now as part of the conjoined horror. The Puppeteer’s strings began healing rapidly, whipping through the air around him and latching onto dozens of skeletons around them.

Each one jerked upright, moving faster than before. Their eye sockets glowing faintly under the man’s control.

Augustus swallowed. “Tell me you’ve got a plan.”

Talia didn’t look away from the horror. “I’ve been working on an idea based on what Alexander and Annie told me about their techniques. You’ll need to buy me some time.”

“Do it,” Augustus said, stepping forward with his wand raised.

Alexander rounded the corner at a sprint.

Ripper stood in the open, sending wind slicing out in frantic arcs. He spun, slashing at drones that zipped around him. One clipped his shoulder, drawing a startled yelp before he cut it in two. He couldn’t tell if they were dangerous, and panic was setting in.

Perfect.

Alexander drew his tonfa and closed the distance.

Ripper spotted him and snapped out a kick in his direction, launching a vertical blade of wind.

Alexander didn’t slow. He dove straight into it, tonfa braced against his forearms. The impact jolted his arms, but the sharp cutting wind lost cohesion as he drove through it. He hit the ground in a hard roll and came up close.

Ripper recovered instantly. Teeth bared, hands slashing; each swipe sending another blade of air. Alexander ducked, spun, and countered with the tonfa, always angling for contact.

Always just inches shy.

He pressed forward, alternating high and low, tonfa lashing out in a rapid rhythm. A pulse of electricity built inside him. He just needed one clean touch.

But Ripper was fast.

A wind blade split Alexander’s knuckles. Another grazed his cheek. A third deflected off his duster. The fourth hammered against his chest armor, driving him back a step with a grunt.

He twisted and swung wide.

Ripper vaulted over the strike with a burst of wind, flipping overhead. Two sharp flicks sent slashes tearing upward.

Alexander saw his plan a beat too late.

The ceiling cracked and concrete chunks fell. Alexander crossed his arms over his head and took the impact on the tonfa, sending pain shooting up both arms. Dust filled the air.

Ripper’s voice followed, gloating and close. “Thought you had me figured out, didn’t ya?”

Alexander blinked grit from his eyes. Behind Ripper, barely visible through the dust, lay the second grenade. His effort to drive Ripper back toward it hadn’t worked out completely, but the man had forgotten its existence.

It would do.

Alexander smiled through bloodied teeth and reached out to it with Technopathy, feeling for the tiny chip that allowed for timed explosions.

Detonate now, please.

A single piercing beep followed. Ripper turned his head just in time. The grenade popped, the shockwave throwing him forward with a cry.

Alexander jumped up from where he knelt, swinging a tonfa at Ripper’s stomach. The blow caused Ripper to grunt in pain. The surge of electricity that followed sent him into convulsions; causing blades of air to lash out wildly in every direction, carving into the walls and glancing off armor. Pain exploded across Alexander’s body as the wind cut from the inside of his jacket, slicing at his sides, up the sleeves of his arms, and across his neck.

Alexander didn’t let up, slamming the crackling tonfa into Ripper’s face once, then twice, before finally grabbing the man by the back of the head and pressing the tonfa relentlessly against the man’s neck as they both fell to the ground in a heap.

Each second took longer to pass than it should, but he could feel the cutting wind dying… becoming barely a whisper… before slowly coming to an end.

Ripper’s heart stopped with the wind.

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Alexander rolled over, arms flopping out to either side and bleeding from dozens of cuts.

“This is the part where… I say something cool…” Alexander said, gasping. “But honestly? Fuck you.”

Annie stayed still, barely breathing.

Pandora tilted her head. “You know what the best part is?” she mused, rising in one lazy motion. “You can’t stop me without killing him too. One little touch and the kid goes boom!”

Her fingers dipped into her dress and came out with a blade.

A violently pink, short, curved blade. A dangling heart charm swayed from the pommel.

“Princess Cut,” she cooed. “Ripper says she hums when cutting flesh. Moans on bone. He gave her to me.”

She twirled it, then pointed it at Annie.

“I’m going to open you up like a pretty little gift. And you’re going to let me, or the kid goes pop.”

Annie’s mind raced. Every path ended with the boy dead. Or her.

Pandora winked and stepped forward.

Then footsteps.

A man ducked through a curtain, pausing at the ruin. Broad-shouldered, leather jacket over a white shirt, jeans, slicked hair. Gold rings glittered on the hand holding the curtain; an expensive watch glinted on the wrist of the other hand.

“…Huh,” he said in a Boston drawl. “Didn’t mean t’ intrude. You ladies need a minute?”

Pandora lunged. Annie didn’t flinch.

The pink blade punched into her gut. Pandora twisted, giggling.

Annie glanced down. It had been buried to the hilt, hissing like the doorknob earlier. She exhaled, meeting Pandora’s gaze.

Her hand closed on the handle. She ripped it free.

Pandora’s eyes widened. “CURTAIN—”

Annie’s other hand clamped around her throat, driving her back into the wall, well away from the boy. Then she shoved the blade into Pandora’s mouth, metal fingers wrapping around her cheeks and jaw.

The goth psychopath struggled, legs kicking out. Annie ignored it, staring deep into Pandora’s eyes.

“Tick, tock,” she whispered.

The knife exploded.

Blood, bone, and teeth sprayed out through Pandora’s cheeks. Her eyes rolled. The back of her skull exploded, painting the wall.

Annie let her go, allowing the body to slide down the wall and painting bloody streaks as it did.

Silence.

Annie steadied her breath and focused, willing metal to replace the deep gut wound and surrounding damage.

That’s going to take more than Alexander’s terrible stitching to fix.

The newcomer whistled low. “…Damn. Aight, yeah, now’s a good time t’ explain. Name’s The Doorman. I was supposed t’ recruit these freakshows—”

Annie’s eyes hardened.

The doorman took a step back and raised his hands. “Whoa, whoa. I can explain. Was gonna bring ‘em in, right? Gave ‘em this hideout, told ‘em to lay low a few months. Then I’d deliver ‘em to the Queen’a Hearts as agreed. But then they went full psycho. Boss lady said bring ‘em in so we could, y’know…” He mimed a noose tightening around his neck.

While he was talking, Annie stepped over and freed the last two hostages. “Take the kid and get out of here,” she said, not taking her eyes off the man.

“Yeah. Smart. Yous don’t wanna be hangin’ around here. What with the Throne of Scales gettin’ called in.” He glanced at the corpses. “Anyway, since yous clearly with the Demon Masks or whatever, I’ll let you get back to it.”

He reached slowly into his jacket. “Here. My card. As thanks for cleanin’ up. Boss lady always lookin’ for sharp types to deal with. Yous’d be right up her alley. Card’s good for all kinds of services, aight?”

He placed the glossy black card on the floor, then backed away slowly.

Annie waited until he was gone, then shuffled over and pocketed the card.

Time to check on Alex. Hope he’s doing alright.

Augustus ducked low, wand erupting with a blast of wind and sending a skeleton spinning away. Without pausing, the wand flicked out, conjuring a portal under the feet of a second lunging attacker.

It clawed at the ground as it slipped, then vanished only to reappear on the floor above.

He was barely holding them off. Removing the enhanced skeletons with quick cuts to the spine, or by sending them out of reach, was all that was keeping the fight from ending.

And not in their favor.

Whatever the Puppeteer had done, Mercy’s skeletons had lost their ability to reform. Each one he eliminated meant one less to worry about, but in return the Puppeteer’s strings were regenerating; and he kept taking control of the remaining skeletons, making them faster and stronger.

Augustus swore under his breath as he dodged backwards, sweat stinging his eyes. His shirt clung to his back. His arms and shoulders screamed from the effort of constant casting.

He risked a glance behind him.

Talia remained motionless, arms at her sides and eyes closed. It had been less than a minute since she’d started, but he was getting the feeling it was now or never. Whatever technique she was cooking up needed to be a good one, because he had no miracles of his own.

The conjoined mass staggered toward them on mismatched legs, moving like a broken marionette. Flesh continued knitting together, strings worming beneath their skin and threading the two bodies more and more into one entity. One arm dragged across the ground, burned nearly to the bone, while the other flexed strangely.

Mercy continued screaming. The Puppeteer was grinning, looking as though he’d accomplished all he ever wanted in life.

Everything about them looked wrong.

Augustus shot several bursts of force at their knees, but they barely slowed.

Strings whipped out from the Puppeteer, snapping onto more of the rapidly dwindling replacement skeletons. He tried pulling them into a tighter grouping, but Mercy’s hand and leg kept spasming as though she were trying to pull back and run. Maybe trying to fight the control he had over her.

Two skeletons charged them. He dropped one with a blast of lightning to the chest, then grabbed the other’s wrist as it lunged for Talia. His shoulder nearly dislocated from the force, but with a growl he twisted and threw the thing through a portal, dumping it into a pile of burning bones.

Behind him, Talia’s fingers twitched. Then her lips moved.

“REALM OF THE MIND,” she whispered, clear enough for everyone to hear.

A dome sprung up around them, centered on Talia. The world outside became a frozen monochrome.

Augustus felt fatigue wash away; his vision sharpened, and the aches and pains of the battle disappeared. He saw that where several close skeletons had been moments earlier, were now floating golden wisps, with nasty-looking black veins reaching toward their core.

And where the conjoined, chimeric monster had been shambling, now stood Mercy and the Puppeteer. She fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands. The man spun around, as though looking for something he’d lost.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Talia was staring at the dome in awe.

“Incredible,” she murmured. “I thought it might be possible after extracting that officer’s memory. But to pull other people’s minds so completely into my Mind Palace is incredible.”

The golden wisps floated toward Mercy, pulsing angrily.

“Maybe even their… souls,” Augustus said. “What exactly does this do?”

She met his gaze. “Finish it. Nothing done here can affect them physically. But you can break their minds. They were already weak enough to be dragged in against their will. Hurry! I can’t hold it for long.”

That was enough for Augustus.

He turned back. Mercy was being assaulted by the golden wisps. They hurled themselves against her, disappearing without a sound or an impact. But she acted as if each one physically struck her, eyes wide with terror while she crawled away.

The Puppeteer stumbled after her. “Come back,” he begged, voice hoarse. “Please, please! We’re stronger together. Mercy, please!”

She shrieked, dragging herself faster, lips curled back in horror. Another wisp struck her shoulder, and she buckled face-first.

Augustus looked down at his empty hand with a frown. “Huh.” He stretched his hand out, and with a thought the wand reappeared. His movements felt slow, despite the clarity of his thoughts; like there was a delay.

It didn’t matter. Stepping forward, he sent a bolt of fire spinning through the air.

Fire swallowed the Puppeteer’s head. He screamed as skin bubbled, and one of his eyeballs popped. But he kept crawling after Mercy with fervor in his remaining eye.

Augustus flicked his wand.

The Puppeteer sailed through the air toward him. Augustus caught the man by the throat, then drove him into the ground with a thud. Raising to his full height, he brought down a boot on the monster’s skull with a sharp crack. Bone crunched beneath the blow, and then the body vanished with a puff.

Augustus exhaled, then turned to Mercy.

Talia groaned behind him.

Spinning around, he saw Talia stagger, clutching at her head. Blood leaked from her nose, and her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

The dome shivered, then it started shrinking. Golden strands of light snapped like rubber bands as reality pushed back, bringing with it color, the sound of crackling fires, the clattering of bones, and Mercy’s sobbing. Finally, the stink of smoke and burnt flesh.

But things had changed.

Augustus glanced across the parking garage. What skeletons had remained, now all lay in a heap. The conjoined horror lay mostly still on its back. The side that had been the Puppeteer looked dead, while the other, Mercy, shook faintly while the woman sobbed.

Talia was on her knees behind him, but he knew this wouldn’t be over until one more thing was complete.

He strode over to Mercy and looked down into the woman’s eyes. What he saw there didn’t matter.

Raising his wand, he brought it down with a snap of the wrist.

And ended the horror.