The spikes on Shiren’s knuckles squealed triumphantly against the gray armored faces of the soldiers. With every soldier that collapsed in a heap of twisted steel, something clicked in the back of Karl’s mind. Like someone was making tally marks on a chalkboard.
Was Shiren keeping score?
That would be awesome.
Karl seized the ankle of a falling soldier and spun, hurling its heavy armored body across the room and into three more soldiers that were charging at them.
“Strike!” Karl raised his arms in the air and danced in a circle.
Click, click, click in the back of his mind.
Karl knocked on the side of his helmet. “You missed one, buddy. That was four.”
Silence buzzed in his brain for just long enough to make him wonder if he’d misunderstood. And then—
Click.
“We make a good team.”
He’d lost track of how long Ryan and Sam had been gone. At some point while he and Stan were whaling on Jinsoku, the soldiers in the giant chamber had all come to life and attacked.
At the moment, Ronnie was shouting bad words at the computer at the center of the room, and Stan was fighting Jinsoku while Karl kept the soldiers at bay. Mia was hiding somewhere, safely out of sight.
“Karl!” Stan’s voice echoed in Karl’s ear. “Could use some help, mate.”
Jinsoku, a towering monster of shining scythe blades with his creepy bug-face armor, had Stan backed into a corner. The kid had to be getting tired. Stan had a better connection with Kagami than any of them had with their armors, but Kagami got stabbed yesterday. So that had to have made the armor a bit grouchy.
Did armors get grouchy?
Karl grunted as a soldier crashed into his side, driving him off balance. He lifted his elbow and smashed the soldier’s helmet in, and it dropped to the floor.
Click, went Shiren in his mind.
“Karl!”
Karl hefted the soldier over his head and chucked it at Jinsoku with all his strength. Stan took the cue and shoved Jinsoku backward just in time for the flying soldier to crash into him.
The soldier and the warlord together smashed into the concrete wall. Karl danced again.
Shiren was silent.
“Oh come on, man, that was a good shot.”
Nothing from Shiren.
“Everybody’s a critic.”
Stan appeared at his side, yari in hand plunging into the chestplate of an oncoming soldier.
“What are you yammering about?”
“Shiren. He’s keeping score.” Karl knocked on his helmet again.
Stan rolled his eyes and whirled around, taking the head off another soldier. “What are you up to?”
Karl blinked and frowned.
That was a good question.
What were they up to? He’d been smashing soldiers for ages. Surely he had to be up over 100 by now.
Shiren buzzed uncomfortably in his mind.
Not 100?
Shiren buzzed.
How about 90?
The armor fell silent.
“I got it.” Karl held up his naginata in victory. “I’m at 85, right?”
Shiren buzzed again.
“Karl, stop arguing with your armor and help me!”
Karl huffed and spun his naginata. “I’m not arguing. Shiren isn’t actually helping me.”
Buzz, buzz.
“Yes, we are too arguing.”
Stan stabbed a soldier through its midsection and swung it toward Karl, and Karl hit it with his naginata as though Stan had thrown a curve ball. “Home run!”
Before Shiren could click in his brain, the air around them shifted, growing thick and heavy like the threat of a storm. Karl spun in anticipation of Jinsoku’s strike, but he wasn’t fast enough.
The blow landed somewhere in between his shoulder blades, hard enough to send him reeling head over heels into the wall of the chamber. The dark room swum in his vision, broken only by the looming yellow figure rushing right at him.
“Oh, man.”
Karl grappled for his naginata, but Jinsoku was too fast. The warlord hit him at full speed, fists like jackhammers driving him into the concrete wall.
Not good, not good.
A dark blue blur tackled Jinsoku around the waist, but only forced him back a small distance. But it was enough for Karl to break free of the caved in remnants of the concrete wall.
He stumbled forward and fell to his knees, his battered lungs fighting for air.
Not fun. Let’s not do that again.
Shiren flashed an image in his mind of tally marks being erased.
“Dude, that’s not even fair. Don’t take points away.” Karl pushed himself to his feet just in time for Ronnie’s flying body to crash into him.
They rolled on the ground in a tangle of limbs and arrows and sword sheaths.
“Well howdy, Blue Jay.”
“Get off me!”
As they flailed, Jinosku strolled toward them. “What exactly do you fools think you are going to accomplish?”
Karl grunted as Ronnie’s palm flattened against his face.
“That’s my nose, Blue Jay” came out as “daff by mose boo bay.”
Karl shoved the smaller man off his chest and stretched his bruised face while Ronnie squared off with the warlord. He rolled over, still trying to breathe through the pain of aching ribs and a dented chestplate.
Stan was fighting a soldier again. Had Ronnie not turned them off? That’s what he was supposed to be doing.
“You cannot defeat me.” Jinosku set his hands on his hips. “Each of you is weak, and together you are weaker.”
“Well, you’re ugly, so there,” Karl spat.
Why did his mouth taste bloody?
He swiped his hand across his lips and blinked at the red stains on his armored fingers.
Oh. His mouth was bleeding. That could be why he tasted blood.
Jinsoku heaved a loud sigh and shook his helmeted head.
“Sora, Shiren, please. This is a waste of our energies.” He spread his hands. “I am fully aware that neither of you are eloquent speakers, but surely we can reason together.”
Ronnie set his feet firmly on the cracked concrete floor and drew an arrow from his quiver to notch into his huge silver bow.
“We’re onto you, warlord. We know what you’re planning.”
Karl scowled. “We do?”
“You can’t kill us.” Ronnie sneered.
“He can’t?” Karl whispered.
“No, he can’t.” Ronnie glanced down at him. “Korin told us. Think about it, Karl. This guy could have blasted us all to tiny bits the first time we fought him, and he didn’t.”
Karl got one foot under himself and stood up, clutching his stomach in pain. “That makes us sound like wimps, man.”
“Thallia don’t want us dead.” Ronnie’s bow creaked under the pressure of his pull. “He wants us on his side.”
Karl spit blood on the ground. “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.”
Jinsoku had fallen silent, staring at them with his fists clenched. Somewhere in the darkness behind him, soldiers kept crumbling as Stan fought his way through them.
“So.” Ronnie kept the warlord in his sights. “What’s your next move? We won’t turn, and you can’t kill us.”
Jinsoku lifted his head. “Yes, Sora. I accept that this is true.”
“So that puts you between a rock and hard place.” Karl slapped his hand on his knee with a clang.
The air around Jinosku shifted again, turning heavier than before. Thick enough that it became hard to breathe, like the air before a lightning strike.
“Not at all, Shiren.” Jinsoku’s voice crackled with malice. “I need not kill you to conquer you. All I need accomplish is to break you.”
Karl rolled his eyes. “Aw, man. Torture now? That’s so overdone.”
Ronnie scoffed. “Pain ain’t no threat, warlord.”
The air around Jinsoku shivered with power. “Then you do not know pain as I do, boy.”
“Get ready.” Ronnie muttered under his breath.
Jinsoku was moving.
Or he was getting ready to move.
And when he did, he’d be too fast to predict, so they had to be ready for anything.
Motion from the side was the only warning they got before Shirotaro galloped into the room dragging a soldier by the leg. It wasn’t much of a distraction, but it was enough to throw the warlord off—long enough for Karl to charge and drive his fist into the warlord’s face.
The impact shook the thick air.
The metal of Jinsoku’s face mask crumpled under the spikes of Shiren’s fist, the glass eye-shields fracturing. Jinosku barked in surprise, scrambling as he toppled backward.
The moment the warlord regained his footing, though, Stan was there swinging his yari like a baseball bat. The three sharp blades tore through Jinsoku’s back armor, and the warlord pitched forward just in time to take three arrows in the chest from Ronnie.
“Fools!”
Jinsoku blurred and vanished.
“Aw, crap.” Ronnie groaned.
Stan jogged toward them, bleeding and scraped and dented. “Soldiers finally went down.”
“All of them?” Ronnie turned his back to the boy so Stan could take position behind him.
“All of them.” Stan held his yari at the ready and beckoned to Karl. “Come on, mate. He’s coming back.”
Karl put his back to them, and they stood in the heavy silence, waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting some more.
“Are you sure he’s coming?”
“Shut up, Karl.” Ronnie spat.
And still waiting.
“What if he gave up and went home?”
“Karl, mate, stop talking.”
A distant rumbling shook the ground beneath them. The metro maybe? Karl clenched his fists. Hopefully it didn’t go for very long. The chamber was a wreck of collapsing structural beams and crumbling concrete. It wouldn’t take much to bring the whole place crashing down.
“Where is Mia?” Ronnie asked softly.
“In the far back by the way you came in,” Stan said. “She’s waiting for Gideon.”
Ronnie shook his head. “Must be some guy.”
Karl shrugged with a wince. “Hey, he raised Lurch and didn’t strangle him. He’s like Superman.”
One of the nearby walls began to crumble, bits of concrete skittering across the floors. Something sparked like electricity just out of sight. The far-off rumble of the metro faded.
Where did the warlord go?
Karl started to speak when Shiren shivered around him—and Jinsoku materialized right in front of him. Karl didn’t even have time to shout before the warlord kicked him hard enough to bend his armor. Karl dropped, and Stan spun. But Jinsoku landed a strike on the boy’s neckguard that nearly shattered it.
Ronnie got off another arrow which Jinsoku snatched out of the air and stabbed through Ronnie’s shoulder.
Karl gasped for breath again.
Ten seconds? Maybe fifteen? Jinsoku took them all down. Dude hadn’t even tried.
The warlord loomed over their fallen bodies.
“Now,” he spoke calmly, even as his own blood trickled down his yellow armor from his wounds. “Let us begin this conversation again. We were talking about pain.”
The temperature in the chamber suddenly spiked, a wave of furious heat washing over them.
Karl blinked at the burning sensation at the back of his brain, gasping for breath around his dented chestplate and broken ribs. His eyes were blurry and watery—not with tears, though. Jinsoku kicked him. Hard. That just made his eyes water with not-tears, that was all.
Jinsoku sighed again and turned away from them. “Yes, Kazan?” He spread his arms. “Are you and Hinode ready to rejoin this conversation?”
Karl lifted his head.
At the entry to the chamber, Ryan and Sam stood together. That was a nice thing to see. He hadn’t really seen it before. Sam didn’t stand with anybody, like ever.
Actually it was kind of funny too. Sam totally made Ryan look short.
“Maybe it’s time all five of us took you down for good.” Sam lifted that gigantic horse-killer of a sword he was toting around.
It was probably a real pain in the neck to fight with it, and it was so dang big—maybe that’s why it took so long for Sam to find it. Well, that logic didn’t exactly work out, but hey it sounded good to Karl.
He rolled over, still struggling to breathe, but got to one knee. In the darkness, he could see Gideon clutching Shirotaro’s fur as the tiger led him to the other side of the room where Mia waited for him. Good. Shiro would get them to safety.
Karl picked himself up and called his naginata back in a burst of orange light.
“Old cackle-face here says we don’t know what pain is,” Karl said. “Think we ought to show him, Lurch?”
“Don’t call me that.” Sam strode toward the warlord, limping slightly but not enough to slow him down.
Ryan followed, spinning his one katana.
Karl reached his arm down for Stan, who used it to lever hismelf to his feet. Ronnie was already up again, ripping the arrow out of his chestplate and putting another arrow into place in his giant bow.
The five of them surrounded the warlord.
The air felt heavy again, but it was different this time. This time it didn’t come from Jinsoku. It was coming from—Sam? Was it really?
Karl stared at the man in the green samurai armor.
Was his giant sword glowing? Maybe Karl’s eyes were as broken as his ribs, but the sword looked like it was glowing. And Sam’s armor might have been glowing too.
Had Hinode always glowed? That didn’t seem likely. Karl was pretty sure he would have noticed by now if that were the case. But then, maybe not.
Electricity sparked over their heads, starting with whatever wire or light fixture had been crackling and arcing through the darkness in response to the glow in Sam’s sword.
That’s a pretty neat trick.
“Having all of you here makes my job easier,” Jinsoku snarled. “This is your last opportunity to surrender.”
Ryan turned his eyes to Sam. Sam, shifted his stance so that his massive sword was between him and Jinsoku.
“I’ll pass, thanks.” He smirked.
“I have fought you all before.” Jinsoku held his hands open. “I have always won.”
“You didn’t fight us all at the same time,” Ryan said. “Not really.”
A shiver of anticipation trembled at the back of Karl’s brain. He was right. This was different. Was that what Shiren was feeling? The electricity in the air was new. For so many years going into a fight with the five of them had felt wrong—off somehow. Like trying to pick up a horseshoe without all your fingers.
Not now.
Karl’s heart thudded.
That was it.
Stan stood beside him, sparkling in the darkness somehow. Karl would have to tell him that later because the fact that Stan was sparkling was so girly, it just made one more thing he could tease him about.
Ronnie stood solid and unyielding like a fierce winter wind on his other side. Ryan—the old man was a wall of fire, furious in his quiet rage, unmoving in his stance. And Sam? Yeah, Karl could feel Sam. And he’d never felt him before.
Dangerous. Volatile. Like the sky before a tornado dropped, full of lightning and thunder and pent-up power just waiting to let loose.
We’re all here. Something warm and happy bubbled up inside him in a way he hadn’t expected. Well. It’s about dang time.
Sam lunged first.
But he didn’t connect. He hadn’t been trying to. And somehow, Karl knew that before he did it. He wanted Jinsoku to dodge so that Karl could pound him.
And that’s exactly what they did.
They moved together, like they were in each other’s heads. Like their armors knew what they were doing before they did it. Was that possible?
Jinosku evaded Sam’s sword but not Karl’s fist that caved in the other side of his helmet. Ronnie landed three arrows along the warlord’s back, and Stan tripped him with his yari staff so Ryan could slash at him with his katana.
Jinsoku shrieked in rage and spun, but Sam clobbered him in the back of his helmet before he could disappear. The warlord pitched forward, and Ronnie knocked him down with his bow.
Karl threw another punch at the warlord’s back, but the yellow-armored samurai rolled over and grabbed Karl’s arm, yanking him down and tossing him onto the ground.
Shiren’s spikes squeaked on the concrete as Karl got up.
Ryan and Stan took turns swinging at the warlord, and Sam and Ronnie stepped in as soon as they were done. Shiren buzzed at the back of his brain.
An opening.
Yeah. There was an opening in their swings. It was perfectly timed.
Sam and Ronnie knocked the warlord down.
Ryan and Stan hit him from behind.
Karl lunged forward and slammed his fist into the warlord’s face-shield again.
Jinsoku answered with a choked gurgle, stumbling backward wheezing and gasping. The five of them surrounded him again. He stood lop-sided as though one of his knees wasn’t working. One of his shoulders might have been dislocated.
Are we winning? Are we seriously going to beat him? Karl vibrated with excitement until his stomach turned over. What if we beat him? What if we win? What do we do then? What if we have to kill him?
He didn’t want to kill anyone.
He said yes to the armor to protect people. Not kill people.
Not even a warlord.
“What’s the matter, Jinsoku?” Sam scoffed. “Not so confident now?”
Jinsoku growled, blood dribbling down his neck guard. His face-shield seemed ready to fall apart. He clutched his chest, heaving for breath.
Behind him, Ronnie nocked another arrow into place.
“Would you kill me?” he hissed with venom in his voice. “How heroic.”
Karl’s stomach twisted.
“We don’t need to kill you,” Ronnie spat. “Not to win.”
Jinsoku held out his hand, his arm trembling at the motion. Yeah, it was definitely dislocated.
Karl prepared for the double-bladed scythe to show up.
But it didn’t.
The flash of light that normally signaled the weapon’s oncoming approach didn’t even show up.
The moment of shocked silence said everything they needed to know about the state of Jinsoku’s focus.
Sam didn’t lower his sword. “What’s the matter, warlord? Is your armor not talking to you anymore?”
Jinsoku snarled at him in a language Karl didn’t know.
“What was it you told me?” Sam sneered. “Just ask your armor for help.”
Jinsoku clenched his fist with a shout of rage, and a burst of yellow light erupted in his hand.
Karl whimpered and clutched his naginata with both hands. Great job, Sam. Thanks for reminding him how to do it.
Except—the double bladed scythe didn’t form in Jinsoku’s hand like it always did. Instead, a sword took shape in a blinding burst of white light and materialized in the warlord’s grip.
It was a long sword, like Ryan’s katana, curved and shimmering in the dim light. But the hilt was the same length as the blade, wrapped in vivid yellow bindings.
Jinosku stared at the weapon.
He cursed and dropped it, stepping backward as it hit the ground and vanished in a burst of light. Ronnie let the arrow fly, and Jinsoku dove under it. Karl kicked at the warlord, who blocked his ankle, but couldn’t block Sam’s swing of the sword.
“Karl!” Ryan pointed to the far wall where the concrete looked ready to collapse. “Finish it!”
“Gladly, old man.” Karl dropped his naginata, the spear shimmering as it faded away.
Stan tripped the warlord again, and Karl swung his fist with all his strength. Even as he swung, Shiren pulsed around him. He could feel the earth shiver under him. He could feel the earth spin around him.
Oh, I think I’m going to hit him really hard.
The impact jarred his bones. It knocked Jinosku’s legs out from under him. It sent the warlord sailing through the air and clean through the concrete wall. The ground beneath Karl’s feet sank in, and a crack tore through the concrete flooring.
“Uh-oh,” Karl said.
Sharp cracks and tearing earth resonated through the chamber like the blast of shotguns.
“It’s coming down!” Ronnie yelped. “We gotta get out of here!”
Karl searched the rubble for Jinsoku but didn’t see him. Sam seized his arm and dragged him toward the hole in the side of the chamber.
The walls collapsed around them like dominoes falling.
Stan got through the hole to the stable tunnel where Mia and Gideon were waiting first. Mia’s hands were just visible through the dust and debris, pulling Stan through the hole.
Ronnie vaulted through the hole without any help.
“Go, you idiot!” Sam shoved Karl through to the other side.
Karl tripped on one of the pieces of rebar, but he turned and snatched Sam’s wrist.
“Not without you, Lurch.” He anchored himself and pulled Sam through as the ceiling began to collapse on the other side.
Sam stepped through the hole, dragging Ryan by the arm.
As the dust and dirt from the collapse billowed into the clear tunnel around them, Karl lifted his gaze to look at his friends. Ryan knelt on hands and knees, trying to catch his breath. Sam was flat on his back. Ronnie was already on his feet, scanning the tunnel on either side of them. Stan had his arms wrapped around Shirotaro, and Mia was leading Gideon to where Sam laid.
They made it.
And they didn’t just make it. They beat Jinsoku at the same time.
Karl sat back and let himself breathe.
Shiren tightened around him, not in threat or warning of danger, but warm and content. Almost like a hug or a pat on the back.
Oh, now you’re going to get sentimental, huh?
Shiren responded with a tingling sensation at the back of Karl’s mind and a very sassy, very clear, click.