Zein: The Prophecy Page 28

‘You’re good, Xin,’ said Sean admiringly.

  ‘Of course, Scottish, after all, we did invent gunpowder,’ said Xin.

  ‘Less talking, more action. We need to keep pushing on people,’ said Remo. Xin rolled his eyes and grinned at Sean who returned the grin.

  At the far end more soldiers appeared and the remaining Americans dropped to one knee and began to lay down a withering crossfire. A couple of the Navy Seals went down, the Ilsid warriors all died. There was banging on one of the doors and Kabel scooped up the jailor’s keys and opened the door. They had found the kidnapped leaders.

  Quickly, each of the men and women were provided with retrieval devices. Before long they had all teleported to the safety of the Core with most of the remaining troops. Left in the dungeons were Remo, Sean, Xin, the Blackstones, Amelia and Bailey, along with Leila and Delilah.

  ‘We should all go back to the Core,’ said Bailey.

  ‘I need to go and help Evelyn,’ said Tyson, the vision still haunting him.

  ‘I have to find Zylar and kill him,’ said Kabel with a determined look.

  ‘I am not going anywhere, Tyson, if you are staying here,’ said a defiant Leila. Before long all the party were bickering. It was finally agreed that the dungeon was relatively safe and that Leila, Amelia and Delilah would stay behind, with Sean and Xin for protection. If there was any problem they could quickly teleport to the Core. Remo would accompany Tyson, Kabel and Belina as he knew the layout of the Palace and grounds well. Bailey wasn’t going to let his best friend go anywhere without him, even though he didn’t want to admit he was scared. The Changeling followed Kabel.

  Tyson hugged his mother and then made his way with the remaining companions up the stairs to the ground floor of the Palace. They met very few soldiers as the majority were all now heavily involved in the fighting outside. Remo took them to a private access door that led onto the grounds. He carefully opened the door and they crept out.

  Facing them was an incredible spectacle. In front of them were numerous phalanxes of Ilsid. They were using fighting formations similar to those Tyson had used in the Battle for the Core. They were marching without fear into a fierce cross-fire set up by the dug-in task force troops. However, the Ilsid were making progress. They breached one of the defence lines and pulled out their seckles as they entered into hand to hand combat. The human soldiers used their greater strength to balance the greater skill of their enemy. Then Kabel tapped Tyson on the shoulder and pointed to the left.

  There she was. Her red hair was blowing in the light wind. Beside her, the flashing blades and seckles of her father, Hechkle and the blur of motion that was Bronstorm.

  Tyson watched and admired.

  ‘He’s there,’ said Remo and they followed his glance. Striding ahead of at least five hundred of his soldiers was the intimidating figure of Zylar.

  Zylar was furious. When the attack happened he was stunned. He immediately asked one of his Eastern Quadrant army officers to contact General Chad and destroy two more cities. They would learn that fighting was pointless.

  The officer was back in minutes. Not only could they not reach General Chad, they had received recordings from their probes, set within the Palace, installed to spy on Lord Malacca, that the command and control centre was destroyed and General Chad was dead.

  This left no choice for Zylar except to demolish this impertinent assault on his palace. He quickly joined his forces and with his anger driving him he led the main attack on the enemy forces. His seckles cut many down, including the Brigadier. His blue tinged black power pulsating out of his body, no one could stand in his way. He had sent communications to the barracks for Lord Malacca’s Eastern Quadrant army to march on the Southern Quadrant Palace. All Zylar needed to do was delay this thrust and then with his greater forces crush the rebellion. He quickly surmised that the boastful and lazy Lord Malacca had been overthrown. No matter, he had enough zinithium for the task at hand.

  He saw in front of him the Fathom Clan. Those overly pompous and pretentious Fathom peacocks were effectively blunting the attack of his strongest troops. His lip curled with contempt. He changed direction and headed directly for them.

  Tyson saw this move and decided he needed to help Evelyn and her father. He left his hiding space and charged at the unsuspecting backs of the Ilsid phalanx in front of him. The other four and the Changeling saw the same threat and hurried after him.

  Zylar reached Evelyn. His seckles cut through two of the Fathom Royal Guard in front of her. Evelyn had seen him coming and turned bravely to stand against him. He attacked. His seckles gleamed in the moonlight as he brought them down onto Evelyn’s solitary seckle. She was too quick for him, with her youth providing her with the ability to duck and weave from his vicious blows. She was able to launch her own attack at his exposed back. Her blow simply bounced off his superior force-field. Bronstorm and Hechkle had seen Zylar attack Evelyn and they desperately led a detachment of the Fathom Royal Guard to protect her. Zylar increased the rate of his blows and Evelyn began to tire. Her body was still racked with pain from the beatings and abuse meted out by Manek.

  Pain, there was so much pain.

  Doubt gnawed at the back of her mind. Was she good enough? Did she deserve the abuse? The doubt didn’t just gnaw at her; it captured and swallowed her courage. Zylar sensed the weakness…no, no he tasted the fear. He pressed his attack.

  Tyson ran into the unsuspecting rear of the Ilsid phalanx. Too late the soldiers turned only to meet fury wrapped in a blue force-field. Soldiers fell beneath his seckle. Beside him was Kabel, slashing and killing. Remo’s blaster with its unerring accuracy penetrated the armour of the Ilsid warriors and then there was Bailey. Bailey the boy clown now turned into a warrior. The sweat dripped off his face. All doubt for his friend pushed to the back of his mind. His fear for his parents was driving him on like a madman. The two photon shotguns he held in his strong arms delivering a lethal dose of death to the soldiers in front of him. His lips were drawn back in an almost animalistic snarl. Belina was beside him. Her athletic body moved easily between blows. The surprised Ilsid stood no chance against the smooth, silky, almost balletic moves. She looked across at Bailey and saw the man he was. That was for later. Her brothers needed her.

  Evelyn slipped. The floor was slick with blood and her tired limbs lost purchase. Zylar moved in for the kill. He made a feint to the right, a similar move to the one he used on the British Prime Minister. Evelyn was a harder target though and she shimmered and altered her shape and the left seckle missed her by millimetres. Zylar turned his body sideways and Evelyn saw an opportunity. She cut sharply to her right.

  What! Zylar was gone. He had leapt into the air and somersaulted over her, similar to Tyson’s move at Old Trafford. He brought his seckle down through her flimsy force-field and his seckle sunk into her back. Her mouth opened in shock and pain. Her gaze found Tyson across the Ilsid troops. He read the pain and fear in her mind mixed with the love she had for him. Zylar removed his seckle, looking directly at Tyson.

  This was the hybrid, then. Evelyn fell to the ground, still holding on to the slimmest element of life.

  Something inside Tyson snapped. His human emotions, the genetics that make the human one of the most feared creatures in the Universe, collided with the Zein magics again, enhancing, almost radiating the power with aggression. Those near him shrunk, both physically and mentally. Bailey was stunned as his friend grew in size and ferocity. Kabel was made to look insignificant. Even Remo felt fear. Tyson let out a roar that reverberated across the Palace grounds. Zylar watched mesmerised as his troops were thrown away from the advancing human. The Ilsid in front of Tyson, trained simply to fight and not feel emotion, stood in his way and that is how they died. Tyson no longer wielded his seckle. Great beams of blue light cascaded from his hands killing all in front. Kabel and the rest of the companions followed him, dealing with the troops to the side or the ones he left alive.

  Kabel was worried. He could fee
l the explosion within himself as he felt Tyson’s pain.

  Tyson, calm down, control your feelings! Kabel roared into Tyson’s head.

  Get out of my head, brother. You don’t want to be in here! Tyson answered and he threw a mental push back to Kabel that made Kabel stop in pain.

  What are you doing, Tyson?

  Don’t get in my way, Tyson snarled. The force of the thought caused Kabel to hold his head in pain. Tyson ran on and Kabel tried to collect his thoughts and block any attackers.

  Bronstorm and Hechkle reached Evelyn and Hechkle picked up Evelyn and pulled her away. Bronstorm engaged Zylar. Zylar tore his gaze away from the advancing human and engaged in battle with the young quicksilver Core soldier. Bronstorm was good, young and fit and Zylar knew he was in a good fight. All the soldiers from the task force were all now in combat with the thousands of Ilsid. Zylar knew that the Eastern Quadrant army would be here soon and then he could crush forever this rebellion. He and Bronstorm battled hard until Zylar was able to get one seckle through the well trained and natural defence of the young fighter. Bronstorm was left clutching a gaping wound in his seckle holding arm. As Zylar aimed what he intended to be the fatal blow….

  ‘I challenge you with the Clan Final Call, Zylar.’

  Zylar spun around, expecting to see the human in front of him. It wasn’t, it was Kabel. The young Blackstone had recovered from Tyson’s mental games and realising Tyson was making for Evelyn he made a beeline for Zylar. He wanted to avenge his father.

  ‘So, my nephew, you think you are strong enough to defeat me?’

  ‘Yes, Uncle, it is time for you to die.’

  Zylar instructed his Ilsid not to disturb their fight and he and Kabel began to circle each other.

  Tyson had seen Hechkle take Evelyn back to the safety of the remaining Fathom troops, who had now merged with men of the Scots Guards and First Rifles. There was fierce fighting everywhere. Tyson reached Hechkle, who placed Evelyn on the floor. Lord Fathom was in the midst of fighting and had not seen what had happened to his daughter. Belina, Bailey and Remo gave protection to Tyson as he dropped down on one knee and slipped his hand under Evelyn’s head. His anger evaporated. Her eyes flickered open. He read the pain in the gaze and steeled his heart for the inevitable.

  ‘Hi, lover, how is the fight going?’ she gasped, her delicate face looking beautiful in the moon’s rays.

  ‘We are holding our own Princess,’ said Tyson softly. Her breathing was becoming ragged and her bright red lips let out a small moan of pain.

  ‘Do I look pretty?’ she asked, Tyson’s heart constricted, he found it hard to breath.

  ‘Yes, the most beautiful woman in both worlds,’ he said, his heart beating increasingly fast.

  ‘Tell me one thing, human?’ said Evelyn just as a new bout of pain hit her. Her back arched and then the pain ebbed away as her life began to fade. ‘Was I the one for you? Would we have lived happily ever after?’ she asked.

  Tyson smiled. ‘It was always you, Evelyn, always you.’ She reached up and touched his face.

  ‘You are a good liar, Mr Mountford, but thank you.’ She smiled one last time and then her hand dropped to her side and Tyson rested her back onto the ground. He looked up and watched the battle between Kabel and Zylar unfold with his body numb at the loss of Evelyn. Behind him the big man Hechkle stood silently in grief.

  Kabel and Zylar were exchanging blow for blow, each other’s force-field repelling what would have been fatal blows to any lesser man. Kabel was strong; however, his uncle could draw on his warped magics from the bottomless pit of his soul. When Kabel thought he had him, Zylar wasn’t there. Zylar changed his body shape, leapt away or moved quicker than Kabel could follow. During a particularly vicious hand to hand fighting set of moves, Malkin’s warning came to him.

  You cannot beat him. Do not engage him directly.

  Kabel moved back ever so slightly. The doubt was small yet growing. Zylar’s magic licked up this doubt and fed on it.

  ‘Realising you are not strong enough nephew? Did Malkin warn you?’ he surmised.

  ‘I can beat you. You will die for killing my father and mother, Zylar,’ Kabel spat out.

  ‘Such passion and intensity, we could be powerful together, nephew,’ said Zylar, as he manoeuvred his body sideways for his most lethal move.

  ‘I would never join you.’

  ‘My son said the same words before he died,’ said Zylar as he positioned his body sideways on, perfect for his next move. He moved quickly. He feinted with his left seckle and Kabel went to block. Too late he saw his mistake. He couldn’t rectify his body position in time and the right seckle went through his weakened forcefield and into the gap in his armour. He cried out in pain. His uncle stepped away from him.

  ‘I do have to say I am a little disappointed with you, nephew, to fall for that one.’

  ‘Zylar!’

  He turned sharply. It was the hybrid. His face was a frozen mask. No emotion. Like an Ilsid. Zylar gave his cruel lopsided smile.

  ‘Well, well, if it is not the human with a sprinkling of Blackstone blood. Come to join your brother in death?’

  ‘Yes, your death,’ said Tyson flatly.

  ‘You can’t win. I have trained for years and what have you had, a week?’ said Zylar as he began to position his body for attack. ‘Soon my main army will march through those gates and destroy what remains of this puny force.’ Tyson looked at the battles across the parade ground, the attacking force was decimated. They had fallen back into a defensive line just outside the hangar. They must have lost four or five thousand men. Like Kabel a few doubts began to assail him. Evelyn dead, Kabel and Bronstorm injured, the Brigadier dead, half the force dead or injured and no sign of Cronje and the Eastern Quadrant army. They had failed. He dropped his seckle briefly. That was when Zylar attacked.

  Tyson realised his mistake and brought his seckle up just in time to block the first blow and then spun to his left and shimmered his shape so the other seckle missed him. As he spun around he found himself next to Kabel, who held up his seckle. Tyson took it.

  His brother looked at him.

  Watch the feint to the left.

  Tyson was all business. He turned to face Zylar.

  What was that? There was a tremendous noise that could be heard over the din of the battle. He looked past Zylar, who also turned to look at what was making the noise.

  It was the sound of thousands of men marching. Through the massive huge gates of the Palace Outer Wall they came. Rank after rank of the Eastern Quadrant army. Lord Fathom looked up in despair, his armour covered in blood. The soldiers around him looked at the incredible sight of the rows and rows of new recruits to the enemy forces. Hope began to diminish.

  Zylar turned back to face Tyson.

  ‘Looks like your time has run out, human,’ said Zylar, revelling in the moment.

  ‘Tyson, its Cronje,’ shouted Bailey. Tyson looked to where his friend was pointing and in front of the army strode the figure of Cronje. The Easterner held his arm aloft and then brought it down. His troops unslung their rifles and engaged the furthest phalanx of the Ilsid.

  ‘Looks like your plan is all shot to pieces, Zylar,’ said Tyson. Zylar thought enough was enough and swept a seckle upwards, which would have disembowelled any other fighter. Except Tyson wasn’t any other fighter, he had the magics coupled with his human DNA.

  He twisted and somersaulted over Zylar’s head and came down behind him. He aimed a mortal blow at Zylar, who shimmered and the seckle sailed harmlessly by him. Zylar moved his body sideways.

  Watch the feint to the left. Kabel’s warning came back to him.

  Zylar confidently lined up the young human and thrust his left arm out and brought his arm across, feinting at the last moment. He watched with satisfaction as Tyson followed his feint, leaving the left side of his body open for his right seckle.

  They never learn.

  He cut in with his right seckle, expecting to hit the gap
at Tyson’s waist but instead his seckle clashed with Tyson’s left seckle.

  How did he do that? Zylar yelled to himself. Too late he saw that he had been drawn into a similar feint and then Tyson’s right seckle hit him with tremendous speed and force. It penetrated his force-field and sunk into his waist.

  Tyson followed up with a blow to Zylar’s arm and broke his enemy’s armour protection. Zylar used his remaining strength to throw Tyson away from him.

  Zylar looked at his army. His Ilsid were being cut down by the twin attack of the Easterners and the task force.

  ‘You think you have won, human?’ said Zylar, holding his side. Tyson frowned; why was Zylar so confident? ‘Did you not think I had an escape plan?’ He snapped open the armour on his arm and there were two transmitters. ‘This one saves me and this one connects me to your mother and his sister,’ said Zylar, gesturing to Kabel and enjoying Tyson’s uncertainty.

  ‘Say goodbye to your mother, human……’ With that Zylar pressed the top button first and then the lower button. He vanished. All around the battle field the Ilsid pressed their devices and the silent army disappeared.

  Tyson let out a cry and raced into the Palace and down the dungeon steps. He ran into the dungeon. Facing him were a baffled Sean, Amelia and Xin. Leila and Delilah were nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter 32

  The Aftermath

  Tyson and Kabel were inconsolable at first, their rage great. Kabel’s rage gradually subsided; Tyson’s didn’t, shunning all assistance.

  When, a now becalmed Kabel went to comfort him, Tyson shrugged away his brother. Although Kabel felt his pain, it was the events on the battlefield that troubled him the most. Malkin was right; Tyson was walking a fine line with his magics. He would have to help him control them. Tyson also would not talk with Amelia or Bailey and went off on his own to attempt to control his emotions.

  Lord Southgate oversaw the release of any political and civilian prisoners across the other quadrants. Many Zeinonians were in captivity, some lined up for horrific experiments. Cronje was true to his word and with no Malacca royal lineage remaining alive he decided it was time to return to the Eastern Quadrant to rebuild his quadrant in peace.