“True enough.” He looked up at the Weather Witch, his long, dark hair whipping about in the manufactured breeze. “Perhaps you should go find reinforcements.”
“Funny you should mention that.” Her smile was hard-edged and mocking. “When the alarms triggered, Lucian flew off to do just that.”
“The Morning Star himself goes to summon aid? Perhaps we should consider surrender.” Fallout cocked his head, considering. “What are your terms?”
Still unseen, tucked in between rubble and the remains of a table, I frowned. Too much had gone into this escape plan for Fallout to just give up. So what the fuck was going on?
“No terms, murderer,” answered Tempest. “You go back to your cells. The individuals who aided in your escape go before a judge and jury. I’m offering you your lives, nothing more.”
“So very tempting,” said Fallout, his whisper oozing contempt, “but perhaps I can make a counter-offer.”
If I hadn’t still been on my back, I would never have seen it. High in the sky, far above the circling Capes, the clouds parted, letting a ray of sunlight slip through.
No, not a ray of sunlight, I realized, as it moved. It was Lucian, the Morning Star, leader of the Emerald Legion. But… hadn’t Tempest said he’d left to get reinforcements?
Without knowing exactly why… without even knowing I was going to do it, I opened my mouth and shouted.
“Tempest, look out above you!”
I don’t know how she heard me. Maybe the wind carried my voice like it had hers and Fallout’s. Even harder to explain was why she acted on my warning, but she did… immediately and without even pausing to see who had said it.
A beam of light tore through the sky where she’d been hovering, moments earlier.
Moth, one of the Flyboys from Stormwatch, was less quick on the uptake. A second beam of light caught him as he turned to see where the first had come from. It lanced right through him, and sent him careening from the sky.
“Lucian? What are you doing?” Tempest looked to the distant figure high above, but the Cape’s only response was another blast of light, crackling through the air. This one exploded into the military troops clustered on the ground, launching broken and blackened bodies into the air.
“Joining the winning side, it would seem. So much for your reinforcements,” whispered Fallout, shadows collecting around his long, slender fingers. “It’s time I showed you mine.”
I couldn’t see what was happening from my place on the ground, but the front lines of Capes and army suddenly stiffened and turned, spinning to react as some unseen force struck them from the rear.
•—•—•
“Be a fellow of good cheer and kill the young spoilsport, Maul,” hissed Fallout, still audible even over the cacophony of screams, battle cries, and chattering assault rifles. “The rest of you, form up on me.”
The good thing about having a table leg practically welded to your hand is that it makes for a convenient means of levering yourself to your feet. My power did the rest, quiet and empty, keeping the pain distant, controlling my body like I was a Walker in truth.
With every step in my direction, Maul got larger. Ten feet away, he scooped up the twisted remains of one of the meeting room tables, holding the entire thing in one hand like it was a giant club. Five feet away, he roared and swung his weapon.
I was already moving. If I’d dodged backwards or to the side, like the Titan had clearly expected, I’d have ended up a man-sized smear out there in the Mojave.
Instead, I charged forward.
The first lesson in fighting someone bigger than you is to nullify their reach advantage. Maul was large and terrifyingly strong, but he wasn’t any faster than a normal. I let my power push my body to its limits, eking out an extra bit of speed. If I somehow survived, I’d pay a price for that… but it got me inside and under the arc of the Titan’s swing.
The second lesson in fighting someone bigger than you is to not let them touch you. Thanks to my fights with the Viking, I knew punching Maul would be a terrible idea. I also knew not to try scaling his back and choking him out, no matter how cool it might look in vids. This time, I kept things simple; I thrust the sharp end of my half-melted table leg into the vulnerable skin at the back of the big man’s knee.
The metal table leg, as battered as it was, was a hell of a lot tougher than my fist… just not tough enough. The sharp point hit the Titan’s skin, and glanced off, leaving little more than a narrow scratch behind. Even worse, the jarring impact tore the table leg right out of my hand, taking with it multiple layers of skin.
My power kept me on my feet somehow, but when Maul’s club came swinging back through, the only option for avoiding it was to drop down. I hit the ground hard, and the shard in my chest slid even deeper. I could hear the audible wheeze that meant I’d finally punctured a lung. It was all I could do to roll onto my back.
Maul was standing above me, blocking out the dark and stormy sky. I watched a foot the size of a trash can lift up then drop toward me like a meteor falling from the sky. I gritted my teeth, snarled soundless,
