Chương 50: 49 Puppetmaster’s Threads

Dust settled in a haze around me, and the energy in the air defused. I gasped, the air finally light enough to breathe with the pressure dispelled. I inhaled a lung full of dust and started coughing.

"Tony," Bianca croaked through crocodile teeth as she crawled forward.

"We've got to stop him." I put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Last shot took about an hour and a half," I called, ears ringing as I made out the blurry image of Puppetmaster standing at the monolith.

"Go check on Naomi." I slipped four vials from the belt, pressing them into her hand—two health potions and two stamina potions. She nodded once and downed one of each. I was already moving to Ingred, stepping forward, mostly blinded by the haze.

"Ingred!" I called, limping, the burns on my legs flaring with the motion. My hand went to the final two potions, one health, one stamina. Ingred needed them more than I. She sprawled on the ground, a collapsed heap, with her head on a forearm.

"Ingred!" my voice climbed as I dropped to my knees at her side. I rolled her over, checking for blood. Her chest rose and fell steadily, but her skin was hot to the touch. The only sign of injury was the crusty red lines running from the corners of her eyes. Lonnie's psionic blast must have taken her out. I jerked the health potion's cork free with my teeth, spitting it aside as I tipped her head back. Gently, I poured the elixir into her mouth, and it slid down cleanly enough.

That was good; cheaper potions wouldn't stimulate unconscious consumption. I reserved the last quarter of the potion, drinking it myself. My burns tingled, but it wouldn't be nearly enough to cure them. The stamina potion came out next as I repeated the process. I waited, moments passing, then the stimulant took effect. Ingred gasped, back arching as she flailed. I caught her hand.

"Shhhh, shhhh. It's okay, I've got you!" Her eyes rolled wildly before her gaze focused on me.

"Tony?"

"I'm here," I said, a relieved, pained laugh escaping me.

"You're okay." A tremble rolled through her body, and she gripped her brow wearily.

"Did we win?" My smile melted.

"No." The early drone of the Anti-Astral Defense System thummed louder through the pall.

"We were too late. We got through the defenders, but Puppetmaster—" I shook my head. Her face tightened, the edges of her eyes blurring with tears.

"Tony, I want to go home." My jaw clenched, my hand tightening on hers.

"I know, Ingred. I do too. But I need you." A deep ragged breath escaped her, her face paling as she started shivering. My body didn't want to move. I wanted to lie down and rest, then run away the moment my strength returned. But we had to press on, and if she truly understood how terrified I was, I'd never be able to get her back up.

"Ingred, Ingred!" I squeezed her.

"I can't do this on my own. I need your Coppersmeldt might." She locked onto her Clan's name like an anchor, and her breathing steadied.

"Can I count on you?" Her hand was a smoldering coal in my grip. She whipped orange tears of blood and saltwater from her eyes.

"Good," I growled.

"Let's trash this wyrm." My wounds flared as I picked myself up and pulled her to my feet.

"Regroup," I said, and we limped away supporting each other. Bianca stood beside Naomi, who stared aimlessly into the distance. Bloody lines streaked down her cheeks, running from her eyes, splitting the dirt that caked her grey face.

"Hey!" I said, grabbing Naomi's shoulder. Her eyes responded slowly, drifting towards me. The dust began to settle around us, and the Anti-Astral Defense System loomed as a nearby shadow.

"You with us?"

"He took over," she whispered.

"That—that wasn't me." My teeth clenched.

"Is he going to do it again?"

"I—I don't think so. He's too far, that taxed him."

"What are we talking about?" Bianca asked.

"Nothing," I said, turning to face the true objective. My backpack winked into existence, dangling from my grip.

"Don't engage Puppetmaster," I said.

"He's too strong, attack the weapon. We need to find the best place to plant the charges—" Giggles, childlike and hysterical, echoed around us, and I flinched, whirling. Figures materialized in the thinning dust, short as gnomes, but their wooden feet clicked on stones. I shoved Ingred behind me, and Bianca took a protective stance in front of Naomi. The ring of short creatures closed in around us, revealing themselves to be puppets—marionettes, though without strings. The air chilled when I recognized one of them.

An analog of a human with curly hair and in a cousin's pinstriped suit—it was Alonso the cousin who'd encouraged me to speak up at the security council. I spun, recognizing others: Derrel, a Human sharpshooter, and Reliant, a Halfling mage. They were all Cousins, or mockeries of them. Wooden ventriloquist dummy jaws clicked, hinging open and snapping shut as giggles escaped the constructs.

"Antonio," he said, silhouette defined by his long coat and wide-brimmed hat. Puppetmaster strode forward. A finger on his hand rose, and the puppets froze, locked in place by some arcane command.

"Vittorio," I growled, a cold sweat beading on my brow. The monolith stretched up fifty yards behind him. If I could just get around him and place the bag.

"Son, don't be foolish."

"Son?" Bianca's crocodilian eyes snapped over to me. Naomi's lips just tightened. She knew.

"Stop this," he said, voice weary.

"These puppets you see, every one of them was higher level than any of you. You won't win here."

"So what?" Bianca growled.

"Surrender to you. Let you turn us into these wooden abominations?" His head cocked as he gazed at her.

"You. What are you doing with them? The Bloodwake would be far more tolerant of your kind." She flinched as if he'd struck her across the face. His gaze shifted to Naomi.

"You hear the whispers." He nodded.

"I did too. Dathurul showed me the truth, but if you allow him to, he'll consume you." Her shoulders sagged, some weight I couldn't see bearing down on her. He glanced past me at Ingred.

"A Coppersmeldt? You don't get more Paradise than that, but for my son's sake, I'll let you live if you walk away." His empty hands stretched out to either side, arcane sigils embroidered across his gloves.

"Tony. Come home with me. I'll let your friends go. Tex, I'll even bring them if that's what you want. I need you by my side. Krathic-Thar has the strength to help us escape, but his greed clouds his wisdom. Granduncle has the might to rule, but his fear of risk cripples him." His hands dropped casually to his sides.

"Together, we could do better. Strength, wisdom, might, and courage. It's the only way we'll get out of here."

"Shut it down!" I snapped.

"Come with us, answer for your crimes. Who knows? Maybe the High Family will show you mercy!" My words were hot air. I had no leverage.

"Son," he said once, voice tired.

"I'm warning you, you won't like how this ends."

"Maybe." My cutlass came up, angled at him as my eyes darted past him towards the Anti-Astral Defense System, a white orb bobbed in the air, suspended between the obelisks.

"But at least Mama will be proud of me." This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. His eye twitched. Once. Then I charged. I rushed in, low windmill guard holding my sword to the side.

"Antonio, stop," Puppetmaster said, voice even, like speaking to a petulant child. I reared back. He waved a dismissive hand, and a shock pulse hit me in the face like a wave. My nose crunched, my body getting slammed back. An ice bolt launched at him, and a white arc of light slashed it from the air a few feet in front of him. I managed to keep my feet under me, boots sliding across dirt. Couldn't get through him; I had to go around. I bolted in a wide loop. Puppets converged on me as I approached their border.

They launched at me, miniature weapons cutting the air. I ducked one, batted another away, but a third landed on my thigh, sinking a razor of a tiny saber into the meat. Snarling, I plucked him off and hurled him to the ground. Psychically thrown stones from Naomi pelted another one away as I broke from the circle, darting for the Anti-Astral Defense System. A semi-translucent white thread coiled around my waist, yanking me skyward.

I yelped as my stomach dropped and a spectral line trailing from my father's index finger ripped me back into the circle.

"Tony, Stop," he murmured, an edge coming into his voice. He strode forward, each of the puppets advancing in lockstep, closing the ring. Ingred sent two frost strikes, but his interception shield blurred, carving through the spells.

"Sphere of Severance!" she called, sweat beading and freezing on her brow as she summoned another bolt. Bianca snarled, leaping ahead on all fours. Puppetmaster's hand flexed, and three of his threads angled for her, points gleaming. He didn't snare her the way he did for me. The ends of the threads harpooned through her arm, side, and leg, blood running down the spectral strands. He threw his hand up and ripped it back down. She crashed to the ground, moaning as the bloodied threads retracted.

"Bianca!" I cried. The coil around my waist jerked me forward, pulling me to him.

"Antonio, I tire of this," he growled, pacing forward and tightening the circle with his puppets. I slipped my backpack off, swinging it to my front as he brought me eye to eye, feet dangling, inches off the ground. My Dragon bolt pistol blinked into my palm, and I pressed it against the bag.

"Let's go together." His eyes widened, and his threads darted like vipers. Two lines snaked around the bag, another one snaring my leg. I pulled the trigger as the lines tore me from the bag. The pistol discharged as I was ripped back. The bullet snapped through empty air, missing the bag and drawing a line of blood on my bicep. I slammed onto the stone.

"Tony!" Ingred called, catching my forearm and hauling me up. My body screamed in protest, burns, bruises, and cuts all flaring in agony, but this was it, our final chance. The threads holding the bag reeled back into Puppetmaster's hand, and the explosives blinked into his inventory.

"Together!" Ingred called, ice caking her hands. Bianca pulled herself to her feet, blood weeping from many wounds. Naomi pressed a finger to her temple. Pain and fatigue washed away, replaced with a psionically implanted warmth.

"Go!" she screamed. Puppets took two more steps, closing the gap. I scooped up my fallen sword, becoming the tip of a spear. Five threads darted, and their trajectory paths projected Puppetmaster's target. I slammed Bianca with my shoulder, and she tumbled, barbed threads spearing the ground where she had been. At my other side, Ingred cast a flurry of suppressive Frost Strikes. Roaring, I leaped, knees tucking. Wind thundered in my ears as the Aerial Combatant triggered.

Empowered Windmill Form flared along my blade as I dumped the dredges of my mana into it. His eyes widened, and white blades from his Sphere of Severance slashed at me. He jerked his hand, and they fizzled out. I bellowed as I struck down, my form flawless, my sword carving a white track. His index finger flexed. A mystic filament speared through my wrist. Pain detonated through my arm, and I howled. My father's finger flexed, and the thread jerked my arm sideways mid-descent. I twisted, fighting it.

Steel met flesh behind me.

"Tony, No!" Naomi screamed. I landed on one knee. My heart roared in my ears. Something was wrong, but I didn't connect the dots. The world narrowed to the hilt in my hand. My gaze followed my arm, then climbed the blade. Ingred stood behind me. Too close. The first half of my sword disappeared into her side. Her eyes drifted up to me, her face pale, lips twitching. Her white braid slipped forward over her shoulder as she swayed.

"T—Tony—" she folded in on herself. Puppetmaster's thread retracted. I staggered back, the world tilting. My mana sputtered out, Windmill form vanishing.

"Ingred?" My words came out as a choked whisper. My cutlass clattered to the ground, half coated in red. Blood ran down my fingers from the puncture. The world went silent, the buzz of the charging monolith vanishing. She lay on her side, eyes half shut and glassy. My knee struck stone. No. My hand moved, fingers numb as I brushed the braid from her face. Ice laced through my body, and I tore at my potion belt, feeling the empty loops. Maybe I had missed one.

A nail broke off as I tore at the buckle, ripping the belt off and staring at the empty loops.

"Potion!" I wheezed.

"I need a health potion!"

"Son," Puppetmaster said, almost reverently.

"It's too late."

"I need a potion!" I screamed, whirling on my father.

"This is on you, Tony!" he snarled.

"She died by your hand." My hand cramped shut. The same hand that whipped Bebi. I hurt my friends. A shudder ripped through my chest, my breath dragging as if my lungs had been punctured, and I grabbed her hand, already cooling. My head jerked to the side, a shiver going through me, then I forced my gaze back onto her.

"Ingred, I need you to get up!" I said, my throat tightening and my nose running. The world blurred.

"Come on. You're a Coppersmeldt. Your clan needs you." She didn't stir. I waited in silence, certain she would get up if I just gave her time. She didn't. She would never get up again. I remained transfixed for several more moments. My mind caught up with reality—and my heart ruptured. She hadn't wanted to get back into the fight. She was done. I made her do it; maybe if she hadn't joined me, she'd have been fine. I did this. Puppetmaster had given us every opportunity to turn away. My choices killed Ingred.

I clutched my bleeding wrist, staring at the hand that held the sword.

"You see," Puppetmaster said simply. Just a father standing with his son as he learned a hard lesson. Dirt smeared the blisters on my fingers. My grip on the sword. My hand. Then the world burned—a furnace stoked from within. I screamed, whirling and slamming my sword off the ground. Puppetmaster stepped back, raising a warding hand. Only, I didn't attack him. He didn't kill Ingred. I did. The blade sparked against stone as I slammed it against the ground.

Feral breaths tore from me, rough and ragged as I hacked at stone. A chip flew off the cutlass. A stone split, and my arm burned as I chopped down, over and over. The sword bent, then warped. Strike after strike, I chopped down, and the blade snapped in the middle. One more blow broke it free from the hilt. I shouted, hurling the useless handle away and then—I sagged into myself, wrist puncture bleeding freely. No feeling. Numb. My shoulders shook, my throat tightening as I grabbed Ingred's hand.

Naomi stepped over to me, eyes fixed on Puppetmaster, her face gaunt and smeared with dirt and blood. Cradling her ribs, Bianca crawled over to us. We lost. I knew it, the others knew it. Now, he'd kill us all. Footsteps approached, heavy talons on stone.

"Tony," Puppetmaster said.

"It hurts more when you're young. I know." I didn't look up; my gaze rested unfocused on my hands, loosely curled before me. He exhaled, something older than triumph or grief.

"Ignorance makes things simple. Heroes and villains. Right and wrong." He paused, perhaps waiting for a response. His words didn't get past my ears.

"You'll outgrow it," he said.

"Kill us already!" Naomi snapped, swaying with exhaustion. He considered her for a long moment, then crouched, getting on our level.

"Violence is easy, Cousin," he said to her.

"Restraint is true strength." He shifted to me.

"Violence has been your answer to every problem. I'm sorry, son—that's weakness." He pinched the scales between his eyes.

"Victory doesn't make me wicked, and your suffering doesn't make you righteous. Please, stay away. Stop interfering. Too many have died."

"Aren't you trying to kill us all?" Bianca growled, casting an accusatory glance at the hole in the sky. He followed her gaze.

"Many will die," he agreed.

"But here, none can survive." He rose and dusted his coat.

"Mourn, recover, then leave." He waved a hand, and his puppets moved, opening a circle and forming a line.

"Stay on your side of the line, and they won't harm you." He turned back to the Anti-Astral Defense System but hesitated.

"Antonio," he said. I wasn't listening.

"I need you to go home. Protect your mother and sister. When Paradise falls, I'll shelter you in the Bloodwake." He strode away. Naomi and Bianca gathered around Ingred, tears glistening in Naomi's eyes. My tears had stopped coming. I just sat there. The pressure continued to build. In about an hour, there'd be another hole drilled in the sky. What did it matter? The High Family shouldn't have sent me. They shouldn't have sent Ingred. I should never have become a Cousin. Ourabora was right.

I'd have contributed to Paradise better as a farmer. We sat there for several minutes, tears washing away the lines of blood on Naomi's face.

"Have to keep fighting," she whispered through clenched teeth, then she turned to the line of puppets, arrayed in formation, watching us. I put a hand on her arm.

"Don't," I said, voice hoarse.

"Tony, we can't give up," Hysteria crept into her voice. A clarity settled in my mind, striking childish notions away.

"Get her out of here," I said, slowly rising.

"What?" she asked.

"Where are you going?"

"To end this," I said, starting away from the Anti-Astral Defense System.

"Then we're going with you," Bianca said.

"We're a party."

"No," I said, voice devoid of intonation. I shifted, turning my eyes to the dam far above us.

"I'm not losing any more friends today. Evacuate the pit." I started limping towards the dam. <<Time to Seal Collapse: 03: 03: 01: 19: 55: 27>>