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The Serviceman

  "Uh… guys…" I said, jerking Siraj back and stopping him from going after some foul-mouthed pirate. "Was that… Kaci?"

  Siraj, whipping around, squinted through the swamp fog and gases. After a couple seconds, his gaze focused.

  "Damn, yeah. Good eye, Max."

  I was actually taking a breather from the fighting, otherwise I might not have noticed. I'd seen a bobbing red head come around the bend of the path, take one look at us and then whip around to race off in the opposite direction. Although I hadn't known Kaci for long, it wasn't hard to guess from the look on her face that she was seriously pissed.

  "I don't think she's happy," I noted.

  "When is she ever?" muttered Siraj. "Let's try to get Geoffrey. We need to withdraw."

  Getting Geoffrey out of the center of the seething mass of arms and legs was a whole ordeal. However, when I bellowed Kaci's name repeatedly, Geoffrey seemed to come to his senses, pulled away, and rallied everyone to fall back to the camp. By then, everyone seemed to be more than happy to abandon the fight. The brawl, really. I suppose boredom and insanity sets in really fast when you're trapped in a trippy swamp. Pushing off the rest of our attackers, we staggered back, only to discover that Kaci was gone.

  "Shit. Where did she go?" I turned around and around, trying to catch sight of her—or some clue as to where she might have gone. "Did she go back to the real world."

  "An' we're all sharin' a dream as we speak? Poppycock. This world is real as well, m'lad," Will said.

  "Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "The material world or whatever everyone calls it."

  Geoffrey fell silent. Instead, he focused his gaze in the opposite direction. Like Kaci, his green eyes flared with an unnatural light. Unlike hers, though, his were a deeper, shadowed green. He stiffened, snagged his sword, and darted forward. Until Ryota stepped in.

  "Where you go?" The ronin asked.

  "You canna go alone, m'boy," Will added, sheathing his sword and adjusting his belt. The English sailor added, "Not if the gel is headed where I thinkit she's gone."

  "We have to go together," I agreed.

  I glanced around as I noticed that the other men and women who had gathered around were grimly strapping on their weapons, checking their gear again, and bandaging the few bruises and cuts that they'd gathered from the brawl. Siraj was filling his quiver and filling a second one too boot. Noticing the grim look on his face, I decided to not ask questions. Questions would slow everyone down.

  "She didn't go off to find the overlord, did she?" I wondered aloud.

  "I bet she did," Siraj said.

  "Imagine being that pissed off."

  "Life hasn't been easy for her," he replied. "Some people cave. Some people give in. Others… fight. We all have our instincts."

  "Well, her instincts are gonna get her killed. Then where will she be?"

  "She'll be at rest at least. Maybe. Hopefully." Siraj glanced uncertainly at Geoffrey. "Or maybe not. Maybe she'd gain a foothold here and wander until she ends up banished like the rest of the unfortunate souls. It's just a matter of time."

  No one wanted to think of that. We all found ourselves rushing faster. Geoffrey stood by the entrance, only held back by reasoning from other adventurers in the party. Spreading out too much and getting separated could get us killed. If Kaci was unlucky, she'd end up dead before she even reached the overlord.

  As per Siraj and Geoffrey's decision, we'd spent the week beating off bandits and attackers while at the same time scouting for any sign of the lord of shadows in the area. Then, one night, a scouting party caught sight of a ghostly ship glimmering in the swamp, slowly riding in a dark green shadow-sludge. An illusion born of great power. Just like Mammon.

  Who it was, we didn't know quite yet, but we knew that the ship was one of those World War Two types. The kind that looked like a steel blade, cutting through the waters. No. Never mind that. More like a metallic silver shark with those spiky control towers all covered with antennas and range finders and cranes and turrets. I didn't know much about the ships before, but Siraj was more than ready to talk my ear off about the ship and what we might expect if we approached it. He seemed to know more about navy carriers than your average bro.

  "What's up with that?" I finally had to ask as we waded through a section of water to reach another swampy path.

  "With what?" Siraj grunted as he helped pull me up and out of the sludge.

  "You know all this military shit."

  "I'm into that kind of stuff. A military geek."

  "Geek?" I snorted skeptically. "There's nothing geeky about you, Siraj."

  "I have my surprises," he replied calmly.

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  So, we all knew what to expect, but Kaci couldn't possibly know. She hadn't been there for first two strategy sessions that we held over the past two days. Heck, I could hardly remember what tack we'd finally settled on. All I knew was that, alongside Ryota and Geoffrey, I was going to be front and center. Whoever was driving that thing was gonna get the sharp end of our blades. Hopefully mine. Will and Siraj and the other long range fighters were supposed to provide 'interference', becoming the bait and dealing with any other Dark Elves should the lord call on minions.

  That was the plan, I thought. There was supposed to be a lot of creeping about. Element of surprise. Now with Kaci going in there half-cocked, our element of surprise is gonna be gone. Thanks… Kaci…

  Judging by the thin press of Geoffrey's lips, he wasn't too pleased with his sister either. I had a feeling the two were gonna have a blow out. There'd been an odd tension between the two since the first day they'd met. It had been kinda odd as well. I figured Kaci would be over the moon after finding her long-lost brother. Apparently not. Apparently there was some other secret shit at play. I hated secret shit. Why did everyone have to hide stuff? I wasn't the judging kind of guy.

  At any rate, here we were, racing toward our enemy. Sure enough, through the thin mists and eerie fog, amongst the glimmering green wisps of light and the hanging illusions, one paler illusion drifted through the swamp. Nothing drifts through a swamp, but this thing could. Partly because it was actually hovering a bit above the ground. That and it was entirely ghostlike. It was a ghost ship. Literally.

  Bathed in her own distinctive green-gold glow, Kaci stood on the top of a wide hillock on a larger island in the swamp. A flickering shield hovered in a globe around her. Arcing through the dark sky, flaring ballista soared. Some exploded around her, spraying thick sludge everywhere. Some hit near the island, causing the ground to vibrate and burble uneasily. One found its mark, exploding against the shield and shattering it.

  Battered to the ground, Kaci struggled to get to her feet. She was yelling rather incoherently at the ship, twirling her staff, gathering energy, and then sending it rocketing toward the control tower. The explosion of her magic sent cracks through the tower, but it held firm. Another ballista landed close by her, snapping a tree in half and sending shards of wood in different directions. Kaci, hit by one, fell forward onto her knees.

  "Not bad, Kaci!" bellowed Geoffrey. "Hang on! We're coming!"

  We followed hard behind him, pressing through tiny winding pathways and hopping from one stone to the next in a mad scramble to reach her side. Ryota and Geoffrey raced past her and began to force their way toward the ship. Glancing at Siraj and giving him a solemn nod, I followed them. Behind me, the white-garbed priests gathered around Kaci. Someone was tending to the wound while another gently removed the piece of wood in her side.

  Oof. I winced. That's gonna hurt. And now our medic is down for the count.

  No time to think. Along the path, I noticed that the straggling weeds were shifting. Pale fingers began to inch across the ground, searching for purchase and gaining hold. Pale fingers attached to arms clothed in rotting illusions of uniforms. The insignias, the bars, and the badges were smudged. Tassels hung torn away from the shoulders. Pockets hung empty. The medals were melted or half broken, barely legible. I could tell though, from the various shapes and sizes… these weren't just American soldiers. These were the lost of so many countries—across time. Saigon. Paris. St. Petersburg. Those Pacific islands… Iwo whatever.

  This was the army of the dead. I shivered as I realized that, despite their broken or missing limbs, they still moved quickly. Too quickly. I booted it down the path to join Ryuta and Geoffrey as they slashed through various illusions attempting to stop them. We continued to push forward until we reached the ship and climbed up. Behind us, Siraj and Will were trying to provide cover and take out the summoned minions of the dead. If they were actual souls. I shivered. Perhaps they were just illusions. I hoped so.

  Now that we were on the ship, I tried to remember Siraj's instructions. How did we get to the control room tower thing? Before I could ask, a dark figure rose on the deck accompanied by two equally large figures—a serviceman with a pair of wolves. The shadowy wolves growled, baring canines dripping with green sludge. Venom? Or… was that just aesthetic?

  "Guard up, Max," Geoffrey said. "We're going to have to take one a piece. I'll take-"

  The wolves sprang forward. Geoffrey shouted as he was thrust back several steps, forced to engage with the wolf on the left. Ryota, now fighting the wolf on the right grimly, said nothing. Gripping the hilt of my sword, I raised it and focused my eyes on the man before me. He was sort of what you'd expect to find in Uncle Sam's forces: average height, light blonde hair, blue eyes, and a massive crack where his heart would have been. Nice touch.

  Keep an eye on the hips. The hips and the shoulder. The whole of the man, not just the hands. It wasn't easy to focus, but I circled around, inching closer. The Serviceman raised a hand in the air and then swept down airily, bringing a gun into being. Not any gun though, this had a blade along its edge. Bringing it to bear, he tapped the tip of his blade against mine in invitation.

  "You are no child of mine, boy," the Serviceman said, suddenly cackling with mad energy. "No fire. No power. You are merely food for this hungry blade. My hungry blades."

  It was hard not to glance to Ryota or Geoffrey to see how they were doing. I had to trust that they were taking care of themselves just fine. Instead, I surged forward. My blade slid along his, pushing it down and angling toward his shoulder. The Serviceman batted it away. I pressed forward again. He parried it. A clash. A parry. A block. Over and over.

  He's trying to get me riled up. He's trying to annoy me, I thought. When I am angry, I belong to him. Those who are angry are easily manipulated. I will not be manipulated. Not this way.

  As our blades danced, my vision narrowed. I looked for every opportunity. On occasion, I could press closely, at which point I'd fight dirty. I tried to trip him. Hit him in the leg. Battered him in the side. His increasingly manic rage fueled him. The force of his blows sometimes rattled me to the bone, and I found myself bracing my sword on both ends as he forced his blade down against mine. He was attempting to force me to my knees, but I hunkered down and refused to give way. Successfully blocking a kick coming my way, I managed to find enough momentum to slip his sword to the side. It scraped along the illusory deck.

  Off-balance, the Serviceman couldn't react quick enough. My blade swept down onto his shoulder, neatly slicing off one of his arms. He staggered back, grabbed his amputated arm, and repossessed his sword in his other hand. Straightening, he stared at me—eyes blank with rage. A look I recognized.

  Kaci.

  "Anger," I breathed. "That's what you are."

  The Serviceman's chuckle grated, and his blue eyes slowly rimmed with black. Black ichor trickled down his cheeks as though he were crying tar. My skin crawled as his laughter's cackle reverberated through the swamp.

  "I am Shaitan, Lord of Wrath," the Serviceman roared. "And you—brood of Leviathan—will acknowledge your superior!"

  "Not on my watch," a voice behind me yelled back. "Go get him, Max. I've got your back!"

  Kaci.

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