Page 63 of Sinistram
“You can’t win,” Cosimo Fanucci, a short blond man, told them. “Put your toys away and stand down.”
If we don’t pose a threat, why are they here?Brent felt certain that Travis’s plan and the Precepts incantation were just as dangerous as they believed, and the Sinistram elders knew it.
Brent heard Donnelly and Peters murmur quiet words of power. Lombardi laughed in response.
“Your necromancy won’t work against our magic,” Lombardi told them. “We are no longer mere vampires.”
Flashes of light and the clatter of distant fighting drew Brent’s attention toward several spots along the edge of the park where he knew the Logonje were stationed. Elsewhere, along one of the moraine mounds, he heard raised voices and saw shimmers in the darkness as power was traded and countered.
“You’re too little, too late,” Lombardi gloated. “Everything that must happen has already occurred. The wheels are turning. They cannot be stopped.”
A dozen black-clad Sinistram priests poured from the shadows, and Brent hoped the Logonje and Occulatum could keep them at bay long enough for Travis to work the spell.
Heavily-armed newcomers dressed in camouflage fatigues burst from beneath the trees and met the Sinistram advance, and Brent knew CHARON had kept their promise.
Ninja-priests clashed with special forces-trained operatives, both sides well-versed in magic. The Sinistram rushed the fighters, chanting spells as they drew their knives.
CHARON opened fire with a small arsenal of weapons. Magic deflected most of the bullets from striking the priests, but the fusillade stopped the Sinistram’s advance and forced them to switch from offense to defense.
It’s a bit like Mothra vs. Godzilla,Brent thought, firing into the melee whenever he got a clear shot at one of the warrior-priests. For today, at least, CHARON operatives were allies.
He didn’t dare lob any of Travis’s enhanced flash bangs, given the number of uncapped oil and gas wells just beneath the ground, so he made do by laying down rounds of defensive fire with a semiautomatic rifle to keep the priests away from the spelled dome where Travis worked the incantation.
“You can’t prevent what has been foretold!” Fanucci shouted, features animated with anticipation for the grand finale, the end of all things.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Brent countered. “But with the Precepts, we can stopyou.”
“Don’t believe the traitor from the library.” Lombardi’s expression twisted to a snarl. “He has been dealt with.” Brent knew he meant the Keeper who had brought Travis the grimoire.
“It begins.” Lombardi looked up as a brilliant light streaked across the dark sky, and Brent recognized it as the comet Travis had been tracking.
Momentarily distracted by the comet, Brent realized seconds too late that the elders had used their magic in the brief cease-fire to turn the park itself against Travis and their friends.
Explosions burst across the park’s rolling ground as the elders’ magic ignited the old wells, spraying dirt high into the air and sending up plumes of flame.
Just like in Travis’s vision, Brent thought.
The elders rushed forward, sure of their impending success.
Brent fired enchanted silver rounds as Aricella and Rowan shouted spells to hold back the attackers. Donnelly and Peters moved their hands silently, weaving magic that sent a shiver through Brent.
Whatever the elders had done to regroup, this time they did not fear bullets, and magic only served to slow them, not keep them at bay. Brent didn’t know what would happen if they reached the protected dome before Travis finished the incantation, but he feared the worst.
Fog rose from the ground, taking shape as the ghosts of Moraine heeded the call.
A gray army of revenants materialized, rising from their flooded graves and forgotten burying places. Some went for the Sinistram priests while others rushed at the elders, intent on slowing their advance. Brent felt certain he spotted Eagle Eye Ike among them like a general marshalling his troops.
“Cover me,” Brent said to Rowan as he reloaded. He spared a second to glance at his partner. Travis looked tired and haggard but kept chanting, as the powerful incantation and dark magic took a toll. Brent knew they were running out of time.
Brent was inside the protective dome, Travis’s last defense. Rowan and the others were outside, keeping up a non-stop barrage of magic to keep the elders clear of the warded area. No matter what the witches threw at Lombardi and his fellows, the Sinistram managed to counter. Brent knew the impasse couldn’t last and silently urged Travis to hurry.
More explosions shook the ground. So far, the blasts had been at a distance from where Travis worked his magic, butBrent feared for the covens supporting them, and for the CHARON fighters in spite of himself. Deep as their differences went, he had invited them to share in a battle with a common foe, not to get them blown to bits.
The witches can’t hide all the explosions. Sooner or later, the cops are going to show up, and if we aren’t done with the magic, it will be an utter clusterfuck.
Travis raised his head, looking up from the Precepts. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, but he spoke loudly and with authority as he raised the grimoire and stared through the dome at the elders.
Brent’s rifle clicked empty, and he dropped it, out of ammo. He pulled his Glock, exchanging high volume for targeted head shots. A glance at Rowan and the other defenders told him that they couldn’t hold the line much longer.
