The Acolytes of Crane (Theodore Crane, #1)(105)

Sending commands by telepathy to my lifters, I propelled, airborne, to a clearing among the trees. Travis, also being equipped with rocket propulsion gear, matched me movement for movement and joined me in battle, several feet above ground. Hovering, we both braced for the decisive strike, weightless. Our nimble silhouettes were framed by the rising sun.

There was a slim moment, a second of strained focus, and then we lunged into our war. Powerfully, we thrust back our sword-bearing arms for the ultimate first blow. With a sonic smash of energy, our weapons collided. I then realized that despite its tiny diameter, the shaft of Travis’ sword was just as indestructible as the hardest metal ever—titanium. It failed to bend or melt once upon the massive force by Wrath. The clash of swords conjured up a huge ball of light, projecting a teal blue aura upon our surroundings. The main wall of the Jaakruid fortress shone for that brief second, as if bursts of blue floodlights were trained upon it.

I could feel his anger personified. His unfathomable rage rattled my bones with every meeting of our enchanted weapons.

Bending my wrist, I brought Wrath crashing down to strike at Travis’ left leg, but he parried the maneuver easily. He let out a whoop and he countered with a mighty swing that knocked Wrath clean out of my sword hand. I froze helplessly for a second as Wrath tumbled down to the ground several feet below.

Time to use Sandolphin’s bracers. I recalled from Nezatron, when I first enlisted for duty aboard the Uriel in the Chamber of Rafal, that their function was to generate instant chain mail armor to protect my wrists and arms.

Faster that you could utter a battle cry, my wrists and hands were covered with a sheath of mail armor.

I was now ready. I unleashed my finest fighting form: head kick, heel kick on the tail end, with a one-two and an over-hand right. I jumped in for the Superman punch, then a flying knee with the aid of my lifters. ‘Yee-arghh!’ I hollered at my foe.

Pow! Wham!

Travis recoiled from my blows. The impact to his face sent a skin-wake reverberation through his body. His eyes became glossy, and his step swayed.

His eyes soon snapped back to fury. Halting my assault with his powerful bracelets, he backed off, and then assumed a dominant stance, his feet firmly askance.

His face contorted with loathing, Travis unleashed a force to grasp me by the neck. Rising rapidly through the air above him, I choked and sputtered. I clawed away frantically at this iron grip, to no avail.

‘Aha!’ Travis snarled, ‘Flyboy!’

‘Let—’ My voice was mercilessly smothered, like a lit candle under a snuffer.

Hovering, with a death grip around my neck, I started to feel weak. Summoning the last of my strength, I quickly ordered my rolesk to rally Dietons around me. These tiny beings, aroused to anger, swarmed to Travis, as his eyes opened in fear.

Crushing his bracelets upon my command, the Dietons proved their devastating efficiency while Travis screamed. Now free, I dropped to the bushy ground, landing upright with the assistance of my lifters.

Full of unbridled rage, Travis swooped in on me, and joined me into hand-to-hand combat on the ground. We rolled about, as Travis incidentally was reunited with his weapon.

I barely had time to react as Travis’ sword came crashing down. Instinctively, I held up my left arm to block his thrust; the chain mail resisted his brute force. The electric flow of the sword passed into me, with a violent current through my heart. My heart pulsed near explosion, and just as the hair on my head began to cook, my loyal subject, my hero, Ed intervened. Actually, the one split half of him that was still barely functioning.

With one last defining moment, the half-Ed revolutionized heroism. With his gun drawn, he shot at Travis’ shoulder, just beneath the deltoid.

Travis screamed at the pain, and with one mighty heave, he struck at the half-Ed with his sword. The last functioning unit of the poor robot met its ultimate demise. Without a whimper, the metallic creature fell to the ground, all lights faded forever.

‘Now!’ Travis held his sword up high over my head.


Suddenly, plasma fire blasted away at the ground next to us, spitting up clumps of dirt and singed grass.

Travis looked up, as did I. Like a screaming falcon diving onto its prey, a small spacecraft hovered into sight against the rose-themed morning sunrise. In black letters down its side read, “ZF-Targine.”

I waited with bated breath. Friend or foe?

I soon cheered for joy, nearly at tears, for it gave chase to Travis with incoming fire. I further whooped as Travis darted away for safety, retreating to the fortress.

The battle scene had changed dramatically. Looking upward from my back toward a platform above, I saw an Elon, standing tall and brute, with a golden trident that shimmered in the light of the passing arrows.

Pike, who had appeared by my side, was out of breath from catching up. He yelled, ‘That is Quasikeum, the Dark King of the Elons.’ I squinted ahead at the Dark King who had usurped power from Princess Jezra, the rightful heir to the throne.

Upon seeing the spacecraft, the Dark King signaled for Travis to fall back and flee behind his cape. Grateful for the chance to escape, a grim Travis ducked behind the Dark King’s voluminous, billowing cape, and vanished. Laughing malevolently, the king wrapped the cape around himself, and also disappeared.

The ship began to fire on the structure, and I made a valiant attempt to rise up and fight on, but my body was too weak. I mustered up whatever bit of strength I had in my scrawny body. I took Wrath from the ground and left to hunt down my nightmare, Travis.