Infinity Blade: Awakening

The newcomer stepped into the room, the beautiful marble tiles crunching and cracking beneath its feet. Siris was half-afraid the tower floor would fall out from under them. They were at the highest point in the castle, and the drop would be deadly.

Most of the daerils fled, though Kuuth retreated to the side of the room. The ancient troll rested on his staff, head cocked to listen.

None of the daerils offered to help Siris, despite their willingness to call him “great master.” Siris put himself into an Aegis fighting stance-well, as best he could, while watching two places at once. The machinelike monster took a pair of crunching steps forward, and then another one just like it followed through the hole the first had made, knocking pieces of rock to the ground.

Great, Siris thought. He made a snap decision, then attacked forward, intending to try to defeat one of the monsters before he could be overwhelmed.

The assassin had been waiting for that move, however, and took a shot at him as he charged. Siris had to lurch to a stop, letting the bolt shoot in front of him, then awkwardly raised his shield to block a blow from the first golem.

The monster’s gigantic sword crashed down, hitting hard and sending a shower of sparks from his shield. The shield’s magic held, but just barely. Terrors, he thought, I’d never be able to parry a blow from something like this unaided.

He breathed out, bringing his sword around to strike, but caught another motion from the corner of his eye. He leaped to the side in time to dodge yet another crossbow bolt. She was fast with those reloads.

“Did that one kill you?” a feminine voice called.

Siris grunted as he blocked another blow from the golem. The second golem was rounding to his right, each footstep shaking the room.

“You’re downright unaccommodating, Deathless,” the girl called at him.

“I’m not the God King!” Siris yelled desperately.

“I’ll be satisfied with one of his minions.”

“I’m not one of his minions. I . . .”

Something about this situation seemed suddenly familiar. One foe in front, one to the side, one to the back. Siris felt as if he knew how he should stand, how he should fight. As if he’d done it before.

But he’d never been in a situation like this. He’d trained in the Aegis Forms. One on one.

Except . . .

The golem attacked again with a crash. At the same time, the second one charged in from the right.

Siris cursed, jumping into a roll. The first golem’s sword smashed into the ground, spraying chips of stone, and Siris rolled up just inside the reach of the other. He met its blow with his shield.

Terrors, but these monsters were strong. The shield’s magic gave out, and he heard a distinct crack. His arm felt numb, and the force of the blow hurled him backward.

Siris hit the marble floor with a grunt, his vision going black for a moment. He could feel the ground shaking, could smell the too-clean, too-sterile air of the God King’s throne room. He groaned, rolling over.

No. Don’t stop. It’s coming.

Siris growled and his vision returned. He was lying on the floor before the God King’s throne. His hip ached where he’d hit the ground. His head rang with pain.

Without his armor, he’d have been dead. He could barely feel his shield arm.

The golems were coming at him slowly, cautiously, stone tiles crunching under their feet. Siris climbed to his feet, then stumbled backward, moving up the steps toward the throne, flexing his fingers. That was when he realized both hands were empty.

The sword. He’d lost the sword.

He cursed, glancing to the sides. The Infinity Blade rested on the marble floor a short distance away from the throne. Too far for him to reach without exposing himself to the now-close golems, particularly with the pain in his hip making it harder for him to walk.

Dared he heal again? He glanced at his ring; its runes weren’t glowing. It hadn’t recharged yet. His hand brushed the throne as he moved, and there was a beep from the magical mirror on the armrest.

“Ring of Transportation,” the helpful voice said, “fifteenth generation, running service pack six. Please enter the password for activation.”

“Damn you!” Siris sputtered.

“Incorrect password.”

“It can heal too, right?” Siris asked, desperate as the golems closed.

“Rejuvenation sub-specialization,” the mirror chimed. “Seventh generation. Currently rebuilding injection from ambient compounds. New injection available in seven minutes.”

Terrors! Siris thought, leaping over the side of the throne’s armrest as one of the golems swung for him.

The room shook, and the throne exploded into rubble, the golem’s sword spraying chunks of metal and rock. Siris hit hard on the other side of the dais, and his hip screamed in pain. Where was the other golem? Why wasn’t it attacking?

He found it by following the sound of its footsteps. Incredibly, it had turned away from him and was lumbering toward . . . toward the Infinity Blade.

The beast’s emotionless helm-trailing a blackish smoke from the visor-was fixed on the fallen sword.

And on the slender figure crouching beside it.

“This should sell for a bit of gold,” the assassin said. She looked up at Siris and smiled a toothy grin, snatching the Infinity Blade and turning to dash away.

Siris cursed, running after her. Fortunately, both golems stopped paying any attention to him, and instead began charging after the girl. Were they leaving with her?

No. They were chasing her.

“You’re not with them!” Siris yelled.

“Enemy of my enemy and all that,” she called back, reaching a rope dangling from the window she’d come in through.

“Routines . . . damaged . . .” a voice came from behind. “Restarting system . . .”

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Siris yelled. “I’m not the God King. I killed him!”

“He’s immortal,” the girl said, scrambling up the rope. She reached the window, then pulled her rope up behind her. “You couldn’t have killed him.” Siris stopped his pained running as the two golems lumbered up to the wall, glaring toward the assassin with smoking visors.

“If you think that,” Siris yelled, “then why in the hell were you trying to attack me?”

She couched on the window ledge and looked down at him. She’d stopped grinning, but now just shrugged, almost in a consoling way. Then she leaped out of the window.

I’ve been played, Siris realized. She was never trying to kill me. She didn’t ever think I was the God King.

She just wanted the sword.

As did the golems, apparently. One began beating the wall down with its fist, breaking open a hole, causing the ceiling to rain dust. If they kept bashing holes in the walls, this place was going to come tumbling down on their heads. The other golem glanced back at Siris, as if considering finishing him off.

They probably had the place under surveillance, he thought. In case I returned. Well, at least he’d done what he’d wanted. He’d drawn their attention, and could now lead it away from Drem’s Maw.

And . . . maybe letting the woman run off with the blade was a good thing. If she took it to one of the other Deathless, they might fight over it. Leave him alone.

But it is the only weapon that can kill them, he thought. The only weapon we could ever use to fight back. Am I really just going to let it go?

He froze in place. Suddenly, he felt like a horrible coward. He would seek freedom, but what cost would he pay for it?