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non-spoilery book 8 excerpt
His phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a one-word message. Regis slipped an old playing card into the book to keep his place and left it on the bed as he stood. He went to his bag, took out a long-bladed dagger and secured it in the sheath along his forearm. He rolled his sleeve down to cover it.
He left the room. Metric was already waiting, and fell into step behind Regis as he made for the landing. The Hotel was filled with the kind of quiet that was more than just the absence of sound. It was the deliberate absence of sound. It was the Hotel holding its breath.
Anton Shudder was an impressively intimidating man. Blessed with the uncanny ability to make everything he wore look like funeral wear, he was tall, with a face carved from flint and short dark hair flecked with grey. Shudder’s hair used to be long. In the file Regis had been given, it was long. Regis wondered if the trip to the barber had anything to do with the current situation. Long hair was easier to grab hold of in a fight, after all. Was Shudder preparing for battle? Did he know what was about to happen? Did he know that for the last eleven days every room in his Hotel had been occupied by sorcerers sent to kill him?
Did he have any idea that right now, right at this second, he was surrounded by enemies?
The sorcerer who moved up behind Shudder was young … somewhere around one hundred years, maybe. Too young to have fought Mevolent, too young to really understand that in war, sometimes you have to do bad things for good reasons. When he took the gun from his jacket, his hand was shaking. He raised it, and Regis saw that it was already cocked. Now all he had to do was pull the trigger, shoot Shudder through the back of the head and it’d all be over.
And then it all went wrong.
Regis could see it happening almost in slow motion. The young sorcerer didn’t mess up. Not really. Shudder’s first clue that something was about to happen came when the man in front of him casually stepped to one side – out of the path of the bullet should it blast straight through Shudder and continue on. Shudder’s second clue came from the young sorcerer himself, but it was a forgivable mistake. Right before his finger tightened on the trigger, the young sorcerer took a little breath and held it.
Shudder ducked and spun, one arm swinging behind him as the gun went off. He trapped the gun arm, killed the young sorcerer with a punch to the throat and spun again, the gun somehow in his hand. He fired and shot the man who had stepped out of the way. He fired again and shot the woman who reached for her own gun. Doors opened throughout the Hotel and sorcerers poured out. Shudder pressed a hand to the wall and a ripple flowed through the wallpaper. Guns were aimed, triggers pulled and hammers fell, but no more shots rang out.
“He’s done something to the guns,” Regis said, taking the dagger from its sheath.
A stream of energy scarred the wall as Shudder dived to one side. He came up and shoved a sorcerer into another, dodged a knife and cracked the gun in his hand off the knife-wielder’s temple. Someone grabbed him, lifted him off his feet, but Shudder’s heels crunched into kneecaps and there was a howl and he was dropped. A fireball narrowly missed him. He punched and punched again, dodged left and threw someone into someone else. Regis pushed his way through the sorcerers who were supposed to be working as a team and failing miserably, and his hand snapped at the air. Shudder flew backwards, hit the railing and tumbled over it.
Regis hurried over, looked down to the ground floor as sorcerers charged down the stairs. They knew they were on borrowed time. If Shudder were allowed to use his magic, it would all be over.
A sorcerer went at him with a short sword. Shudder took it from him and used him as a shield against another energy stream. The sorcerer shrieked and collapsed. Shudder cut the fingers from the energy-thrower’s hand. He whirled as the sorcerers tried surrounding him, taking the fight to them instead of waiting for his enemy to get into position. Regis nodded to Metric, who vaulted over the railing and landed in the middle of the crowd. They cleared a space for him and he straightened up. Shudder lunged, the sword slicing through Metric’s shirt but leaving his skin without a scratch.
Shudder took a step backwards. Metric flexed his fingers. The sorcerers around the circle calmed down. Metric would take care of it. Metric would crush him between his –
Metric stepped in and Shudder’s sword plunged into his eye. Metric screamed and fell to one knee and Shudder left the sword there, already turning to the next opponent, smashing teeth with his fist.
Regis jumped, using the air to steer his course as he fell. Shudder moved at the last moment, so instead of the blade coming down diagonally into his neck, it embedded in his shoulder. Shudder went down, Regis on top, still holding the dagger. He twisted the handle and Shudder grabbed his wrist, turning into him. Regis powered forward. They crashed into the coffee table and went sprawling. Regis got a knee in the face. He tasted blood. Shudder got to his feet and stumbled. An energy stream caught him in the side and he gasped, hit the wall and slid against it.
“Finish him,” Regis ordered. “Do it now.”
Energy crackled, but the wall behind Shudder opened and he fell through it. Regis ran forward, but the wall resealed, the secret escape route vanishing. Immediately the sorcerers ran for the doors. Regis heard a shout from outside. They’d spotted him, and were giving chase.
He left the room. Metric was already waiting, and fell into step behind Regis as he made for the landing. The Hotel was filled with the kind of quiet that was more than just the absence of sound. It was the deliberate absence of sound. It was the Hotel holding its breath.
Anton Shudder was an impressively intimidating man. Blessed with the uncanny ability to make everything he wore look like funeral wear, he was tall, with a face carved from flint and short dark hair flecked with grey. Shudder’s hair used to be long. In the file Regis had been given, it was long. Regis wondered if the trip to the barber had anything to do with the current situation. Long hair was easier to grab hold of in a fight, after all. Was Shudder preparing for battle? Did he know what was about to happen? Did he know that for the last eleven days every room in his Hotel had been occupied by sorcerers sent to kill him?
Did he have any idea that right now, right at this second, he was surrounded by enemies?
The sorcerer who moved up behind Shudder was young … somewhere around one hundred years, maybe. Too young to have fought Mevolent, too young to really understand that in war, sometimes you have to do bad things for good reasons. When he took the gun from his jacket, his hand was shaking. He raised it, and Regis saw that it was already cocked. Now all he had to do was pull the trigger, shoot Shudder through the back of the head and it’d all be over.
And then it all went wrong.
Regis could see it happening almost in slow motion. The young sorcerer didn’t mess up. Not really. Shudder’s first clue that something was about to happen came when the man in front of him casually stepped to one side – out of the path of the bullet should it blast straight through Shudder and continue on. Shudder’s second clue came from the young sorcerer himself, but it was a forgivable mistake. Right before his finger tightened on the trigger, the young sorcerer took a little breath and held it.
Shudder ducked and spun, one arm swinging behind him as the gun went off. He trapped the gun arm, killed the young sorcerer with a punch to the throat and spun again, the gun somehow in his hand. He fired and shot the man who had stepped out of the way. He fired again and shot the woman who reached for her own gun. Doors opened throughout the Hotel and sorcerers poured out. Shudder pressed a hand to the wall and a ripple flowed through the wallpaper. Guns were aimed, triggers pulled and hammers fell, but no more shots rang out.
“He’s done something to the guns,” Regis said, taking the dagger from its sheath.
A stream of energy scarred the wall as Shudder dived to one side. He came up and shoved a sorcerer into another, dodged a knife and cracked the gun in his hand off the knife-wielder’s temple. Someone grabbed him, lifted him off his feet, but Shudder’s heels crunched into kneecaps and there was a howl and he was dropped. A fireball narrowly missed him. He punched and punched again, dodged left and threw someone into someone else. Regis pushed his way through the sorcerers who were supposed to be working as a team and failing miserably, and his hand snapped at the air. Shudder flew backwards, hit the railing and tumbled over it.
Regis hurried over, looked down to the ground floor as sorcerers charged down the stairs. They knew they were on borrowed time. If Shudder were allowed to use his magic, it would all be over.
A sorcerer went at him with a short sword. Shudder took it from him and used him as a shield against another energy stream. The sorcerer shrieked and collapsed. Shudder cut the fingers from the energy-thrower’s hand. He whirled as the sorcerers tried surrounding him, taking the fight to them instead of waiting for his enemy to get into position. Regis nodded to Metric, who vaulted over the railing and landed in the middle of the crowd. They cleared a space for him and he straightened up. Shudder lunged, the sword slicing through Metric’s shirt but leaving his skin without a scratch.
Shudder took a step backwards. Metric flexed his fingers. The sorcerers around the circle calmed down. Metric would take care of it. Metric would crush him between his –
Metric stepped in and Shudder’s sword plunged into his eye. Metric screamed and fell to one knee and Shudder left the sword there, already turning to the next opponent, smashing teeth with his fist.
Regis jumped, using the air to steer his course as he fell. Shudder moved at the last moment, so instead of the blade coming down diagonally into his neck, it embedded in his shoulder. Shudder went down, Regis on top, still holding the dagger. He twisted the handle and Shudder grabbed his wrist, turning into him. Regis powered forward. They crashed into the coffee table and went sprawling. Regis got a knee in the face. He tasted blood. Shudder got to his feet and stumbled. An energy stream caught him in the side and he gasped, hit the wall and slid against it.
“Finish him,” Regis ordered. “Do it now.”
Energy crackled, but the wall behind Shudder opened and he fell through it. Regis ran forward, but the wall resealed, the secret escape route vanishing. Immediately the sorcerers ran for the doors. Regis heard a shout from outside. They’d spotted him, and were giving chase.