Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I make no claim to them. Please don't sue.
Chapter Nine
Nanoha Takamachi had fought fires before. Doing so held no terror for her. It did, however, hold a lot of terror for little Alicia, growing in her belly. She ached to charge right in, to start pulling people out, but she dared not. A shared glance with Fate told her that she felt likewise. Still. She could take charge. Aston, Rio, Saotome; start evacuating the upper floors. Tsukino, McLaren, prepare to treat casualties. Maller, ground floor evacuation. Then, in a private aside to Fate, We can keep it from spreading, and see if we can't suppress the flames somehow. Another thought to the group. Acknowledge.
The marines responded more or less immediately, in the affirmative, as did Usagi. Aston's reply was tinged with curiosity, and sudden realization – presumably he'd just remembered that she and Fate were on maternity leave.
Ranma's response was a mental snarl, then he poured on his considerable speed and vanished into the ground floor of the building. Nanoha resisted the urge to swear.
The dining room of Ukyo's restaurant was a smoke-filled, luridly lit horror. It looked like somebody had trashed the place even before lighting it on fire. A couple customers were sprawled, unconscious. The grill was blackened, fire gouting from below it. Nobody, thank the kamis, was behind it in that inferno. There were a pair of gouges in the doorframe, one framing blackened wood, the other exposing concrete that had been fused to a glassy sheen.
Konatsu was in the kitchen, his plasma pistol, the muzzle glowing white hot still, lying near one hand where he was sprawled, one arm at an angle that spoke of it being broken. There was a ward of some kind on the door to the storeroom. Ranma didn't pause for anything fancy. The sigl that anchored it was carved into the frame of the door; he shattered it with a blow, then ripped the wooden door off its hinges. Inside, Ukyo lay sprawled, unconscious, with her hands and feet bound in chord and an ugly lump on her head. He snapped the chords, lifted her, turned.
Akane was in the kitchen, lifting Konatsu with care. "Whoever did this was no pushover."
"Yeah." Quickly and carefully, they made their way out of the kitchen. Aston and Dai were in the dining room, picking up the customers. "Thanks."
The staff sergeant glanced over. "We like this restaurant."
"The White Devil's not happy with you. We're gonna use you as cover," added Dai as he pulled a salaryman into a fireman's carry.
"Fair 'nuff."
They emerged into the night air, its relative coolness a blessed balm. Usagi, in full Princess mode, had the start of a treatment area already. She was calling out instructions in imperious tones, and already bystanders were giving up jackets for those who were fleeing the building. Ranma laid Ukyo down gently and exchanged nods with Usagi before turning back to the building.
Nanoha and Fate were airborne, probably doing something to isolate the fire. Ranma went airborne as well, wishing not for the first time that he'd figured out Mushi's fire-extinguishing-push trick. For the moment, he settled for aiming for an upper story window, and flew in, looking for more people who needed help getting out.
This is not what I signed up for, thought LaFleur as he watched his sensei charge into a burning building. "Now what?"
Michael Jones looked similarly conflicted. "Time to pretend we're more than just spies."
Easy for you to say, yank, you look all stereotypically heroic. I'm no hero. I'm not even an assassin any more. This shit is not my line. For a long moment, he froze in place, watched the drama unfold.
Then he heard a child cry out from above. His gaze jerked upwards. Leaning out of a fifth story window was a little girl who looked perhaps ten, backlit by flames. Long years of infiltration took in the face of the building. There was no fire escape or other convenient way up, and no way for an ordinary person get to her. All of the fliers were occupied.
Who gives a damn if you're a freak, Marceau? Even you aren't this much of a louse.
No ladder, no fire escape... but there was footing... He charged forward. Saotome says I can do this shit when I'm not thinking about it. Well, time to do it deliberately. Not like being a freak could stain my soul worse than my job, now or then.
He jumped as he neared the wall, managed to snag a windowsill at the second-story level. He swung up to it, did a standing jump to the next, and again. Close watchers might have observed flickers of green light around him as he moved. Reaching the girl, he said, in Japanese mangled by adrenaline, "Calm, girl. Safety take you to I will."
Her response was to throw her arms around her neck, and babble something incomprehensible in Japanese. With one arm, he held her tight, then leaned away from the growing flame within the apartment. And realized how high he was, and how few handholds there were. "Tabarnak."
Nothing to lose by my life. And hers. Balancing carefully, he dropped to the next sill, catching himself. Dropping again and again, and finally dropping to the ground, landing in a roll, coming to a stop on his back. The girl, lying against his chest, scrambled away. For a moment, he lay there, considering what he'd just done.
There might just be a little bit of hero in me, after all.
Fate hadn't called up a storm in years.
She knew she could do it, she knew she could do it well and make it work. And that it was the best thing she could do right now; mindful as she was of the daughter growing inside her. Surrounded by amber runes, she began her work.
She concentrated, bringing her power to bear on the sky above and to shape it. She took a delicate touch; calling lightning was easy, but lightning she did not want. She called the clouds together, called them to thicken and grow. Slowly and deliberately, she tugged at them, pulled them into a useful shape.
Finally, the clouds reached their critical mass. With a gesture, she set them loose, a deluge centered on the block.
Kia Rio flew unsteadily as she carried a mother and child from the top floor. Okay, this is way harder than the Sergeant makes it look. How the hell does Aston do it? She settled to the ground, set the two down on the pavement. Tsukino – and Sankt Kaiser, how did she managed to be both inspiring and terrifying in a ballgown of all things- had a decent little triage area set up, where she was healing them. Most everyone was hurting from burns or smoke inhalation.
There were sirens approaching; emergency services, it seemed. Better late than never. Taking a moment to steady herself, she launched into the air again, exchanged nods with Takamachi, and looked over the face of the building, looking for her next rescuee as the rains began.
As she looked, she saw Bond leap from a ground floor window, the flames belching out after him, looking like the star of some holovid as he landed neatly, some poor helpless innocent cradled in his arms. Despite the flames, his outfit looked almost untouched.
He was impressive. Damned impressive, especially for an ordinary man. And this fire more or less guaranteed that their date was off, at least for tonight.
She was going to find out who was responsible, and she was going to destroy them.
Ranma was soaked to the skin, her sleeves and pants cuffs were charred, she stunk of smoke, her scars ached from proximity to the sheer amount of raw magic Usagi radiated in Princess mode(to say nothing of the major barriers Nanoha had thrown up, and Fate's storm summoning.) Her ki sense told her there wasn't anyone else alive still in the building, and a count of the people she, her students, a few heroic bystanders, and the fire fighters had pulled out seemed to match what her sense of numbers had been. Though she couldn't quite shake the feeling that somehow, they'd missed someone. That was going to haunt her, come nightfall. Not that she'd been sleeping well, these last few nights, to begin with.
But so far as she could tell, they'd gotten it done. Usagi had gotten the worst-injured healed already. Paramedics were looking over the rest. Two fire engines were hosing down the building, finishing what Fate had started. Adrenaline crashing, Ranma just wanted to sleep for about a week, now. But she couldn't just do that now. She felt a nagging responsibility to make sure everyone got taken care of, and a burning need to figure out who had done this.
As she walked among the suddenly-homeless, semi-dry under another barrier Nanoha had put up, she ran across the woman herself. "Hey. Uh, sorry fer ignorin' you at the start, but..." She gestured towards Ukyo, who was standing at the edge of the barrier, staring into her smoldering restaurant.
"I understand. And, really, it's not like you're in my chain of command." Nanoha's smile turned wry. "And it reminds me of something Admiral Haralowan once told me."
"Which one?"
"Lindy. 'May you have a dozen subordinates just like you.'"
That drew a giggle from the tired martial artist. "I can see it. Listen, I ran into some kinda ward in there."
The brunette glanced up. "Oh?"
"Somebody'd tossed Uuchan into her supply room, knocked out, an' put a ward on t' door ta keep anyone from breakin' out."
That gave her Nanoha's full attention. "How did you get through it?"
"Brute force. Didn't think I had time ta take it apart properly, so I just destroyed the anchor rune."
Nanoha was silent a long moment. "Once they get the fire out, we'll have to take a closer look. With McLaren and Aston along as well."
"Yeah." A pause. "Look, I gotta check on somebody, catch up with ya soon."
She moved on, passed a few residents of the building, graciously accepted the thanks one man offered. Stalling. She didn't want to do this, and she knew she must. Nervously, she walked up to Ukyo. "You okay?" she asked, bracing for an outburst.
The chef glanced at her; did a double take. "Someone attacked me and burned down my home. What do you think, Ranma?"
"Sorry, knew it was a stupid thing ta say, I just..." She sighed and slumped in place. "I'm sorry. You probably don't wanna talk to me anyway... I'll go check on Konatsu." The redhead turned to go.
One hand caught her arm. "Why'd you charge in after me?"
Ranma blinked, confused. "Huh? Why wouldn't I?"
"I... I thought you hated me." Tears were starting to well in Ukyo's eyes now.
"Not that, Ukyo," said Ranma with conviction. "Never that. I care. I just... not the way you wanted me to."
The chef seemed to collapse in on herself, sobbing. Unthinking, Ranma caught her, hugged her close. Ukyo buried her face into Ranma's shoulder and wept. She'd thrown herself into her work, used it as an anchor to simply not feel, for the last two days. Without it, she wept. She wept for her dreams. She wept for her home. She wept for her clan, perhaps never to be avenged. She wept for her restaurant, devoured by the flames. She wept for her life, shattered around her. Ranma held her close, not knowing what, if anything, to say in response to her torrent of tears and words. Somewhere in that rant, Akane and Konatsu had joined the group hug, lending their friend what strength they could by proximity.
After a time, Ukyo managed to collect herself. "I... Sorry. That was..."
"Totally justified, under the circumstances," interrupted Akane.
"Did either of ya see who did this?"
Konatsu nodded. "Some kind of sorceress. Gaijin, I think, though I did not get a good look. She came in throwing spells. I could barely draw and fire before she took me down."
"I think I got a few shots in myself," said Ukyo, "Before she hit me. Memory's a little fuzzy."
"You had a concussion, I think," said Ranma. "Kuso." I got a bad feeling I know who did this...
Akane asked, "Do you two have a place to stay, tonight?"
The chef shook her head.
"We've got spare rooms at the Tendo Dojo. If you're willing."
Ukyo managed a smile. "Thank you." A pause, then she glanced at Ranma. "Are you going to find the one who did this?"
"Kamis, yes. And we're gonna make 'em pay."
The comms board on the patrol frigate Megan pinged to life in the middle of a dull shift. "Staff Sergeant Tomas Aston to Megan, come in please."
Ensign Morris, grateful for the interruption of his boredom, punched the comm. "Megan to Sergeant Aston, we read you. How may I direct your call?"
"I need to speak to the bridge duty officer, or the sensor tech. It's urgent."
Morris blinked, checked the chrono. It has to be nightfall down there. What the hell does this groundpounder think could be urgent? "Ah, acknowledged, Sergeant. One moment." Mumbling something about self-important gropos, he was about to page Lieutenant Lambo when the man leaned in at his console.
"What's going on, Ensign?"
He swallowed his mumbles. "Ah, not sure Lieutenant. Some marine downside says he needs to speak to you urgently."
The lieutenant stuck out a hand. Belatedly, Morris handed over his headset.
"This is Lieutenant Lambo speaking. What's the situation, Marine?"
"Are you guys still tracking that energy trace we called in a couple days back, in connection to some local trouble?"
"We are. We got a double-ping of it about an hour ago."
The marine swore, then "Let me guess. The ping matches my current position."
"I'll double check." He pressed the pause/break key, then turned to the sensor tech, who was also paying attention, having noticed the growing sense of unease on the bridge. "Hilux, compare those pings with the Sergeant's position."
"Three seconds, El Tee." The bluenette bent over her console for a moment. "It's almost a dead-on match." A pause, then she bent over the sensor board again. "Calling up everything we have on the back-trace."
Lambo hit the pause/break again. "Sergeant, you guessed right. We're working the back-trace. What's the situation?"
"Some yokel spellslinger just tried to murder a building full of people. The fire-suppression systems never kicked in. At least a few people were deliberately disabled and left inside before the fire got started. I'm betting those two facts are connected."
It was Lambo's turn to swear. "No bet here. We'll forward our data to you soonest."
"Thanks, Megan. Sergeant Aston, out."
"They don't have a complete trace yet. The signal hits some interesting dimensional variables and goes wonky." Aston sounded grim.
McLaren grumbled, "If that's the case, why not tell us when they found out? Why just file that shit away?"
"We're ground pounders, they're space rats. Why tell us any damned thing, not like we'd understand the big words." Kia's voice dropped to a vaguely obscene mumble.
The squad, along with Ranma and Nanoha, were standing before the building. Between the storm and the firefighters, the blaze was down to a dull smolder, and they were waiting on the all-clear to go in along with the fire department's own investigators. They were feeling grim. Fate and Usagi would be joining them shortly, but for the moment they were talking with the ambulance crews.
"Can you sort anything out of here yet, Kal? Saotome?"
"Not a thing," said Ranma. "Usagi, Nanoha, an' Fate've swamped out anything I could see."
"Traces," said McLaren. "I'd have to get into the building."
"I know a spot you gotta take a look at," said Ranma.
"Good."
For a long moment they stood in silence, alone with their thoughts and waited. The inspectors joined them, including the Tokyo PD rep – Inspector Kaga. "Saotome."
"Inspector."
"I should probably raise a stink about jurisdiction and the fact that this isn't an issue for the Bureau, but at this point..." He shook his head. "This situation has the same stink as the incident at the Kunos." He glanced between Nanoha and Aston, clearly trying to decide which of them was in charge. "At this point, I'll take whatever help I can get. My only expert is missing in action, and I'll welcome any help you can give." A pause, and a mutter of "I can't believe I'm saying this... Saotome, keep us in the loop. At the moment, I'm going to trust your judgment."
Ranma blinked. Didn't expect that. "I'll do my best ta be worthy of it."
"Saotome, what the hell did you do to this?"
"I punched it."
Kal crouched next to what had been the frame to Ukyo's storeroom door, inspecting the bricks that bore the remains of the anchor rune, runes of his own floating around them. "You're kidding."
Ranma shrugged. "I punched it really hard. My friend was on the other side, knocked out, an' t' place was on fire."
"Can you get anything out of it?" Aston sounded calm, but from the look in his eyes, he was worried.
"From the traces I can see, I think it's a match to whatever knocked over that mansion across town." A sigh. "It'd be a better read if they hadn't made us wait most of an hour before letting us come in." He glanced at Ranma. "I don't suppose you know anything about that other incident?"
"I gotta theory about that. I know you guys've read my file, ya know about the fiancees thing."
"Yes?" Aston's tone was patient, leading.
"Looks like Pops added another gal to the bunch on his latest trip. A mage lady. She swung by the dojo t'night before classes started. I turned her down."
"You think it was her?"
"Konatsu says they got jumped by a foreign mage. Odds are good."
"Interesting. She strike you as the sort to do this?"
"She struck me as... well, delusional. Hadda really odd view of t' world. Sorta thing that can turn... violent."
"Wonderful."
Inspector Kaga picked his way through the remains of the dining room. "Just a little update; the sprinklers didn't kick in because somebody melted the pump used to power them. Even without the Kuonji woman's testimony, this is looking like arson."
"Yeah. An' we've spotted some stuff that says it might be connected with t' thing at the Kunos."
"Beyond the connection with you?"
"Somethin' more concrete than that."
"Good. We need something to work with. Anything a layman'll understand?"
Kal didn't even look up from the rune-circle he was manipulating. "The magical equivalent of fingerprints. Not a hundred percent sure yet, your people didn't let me get a good enough look at the first place."
"You expecting an apology for that, gaijin?"
"Not really. I know how jurisdictional crap goes down. No solutions and lots of finger pointing."
Aston growled, "McLaren, you're out of line." He glanced to Kaga. "Apologies, Inspector."
"Compared to some of my specialists, Sergeant, that was downright polite. Forget it." A pause. "We're all on edge."
"Thank you."
Kaga bowed out, giving Ranma a mutter to make sure he forwarded a copy of his report straight to the Inspectors own personal desk.
Dai dope-slapped McLaren. "Why are you trying to create problems, Kal? Do you want to bring the Ground Patrol down on us?"
Kal was about to snarl back when they were interrupted by the ringing of Ranma's cell phone. The redhead pulled it from her pocket. "Ranma here."
The answering voice was Soun Tendo's, strained, tired, and shocky. "Saotome... help..."
O_0
Ranma was outrunning her backup. She knew it was stupid, she knew it was foolhardy... but she couldn't not. She was rocketing along, faster than she'd ever tried to fly before, barely above the rooftops, and the Tokyo City Ordinances against people flying around could be good and damned.
Fate was keeping pace; were she trying, she could easily beat Ranma to the Tendo Dojo – but she was thinking for two, and Ranma did not begrudge her that. Nanoha and Usagi where in their wake, steadily losing ground. Aston and Kia were well behind, the Sergeant staying back to aid his subordinate should her still-clumsy flight spell fail. Dai, Kal, Kaga, and the spies were following at what speed they could manage, in a squad car.
The flight couldn't have taken more than ten minutes, but it felt so much longer as the Tendo Dojo finally hove into view. Even from here, closing at speed, Ranma could see that a battle had been fought. The walls were holed; the back yard torn up. She could see a gaping hole in the roof, its edges marked with the impossibly clean cuts only a vacuum blade could make. Ranma descended through the roof, alighted in the wreckage of the living room.
Bleeding from a wound to his belly, his sword, broken, lying beside him, Soun Tendo was slumped against the wall. Unconsious, ki running thin, but still strong enough to mark him as alive. Ranma took hold of one shoulder, gently shook him. "Hey, Soun, wake up."
The older man groaned as Fate landed, taking the same route in Ranma had used. "Is there anyone else here?"
Ranma concentrated a moment. "Konatsu's somewhere in the back yard. Think he's out cold, though." She turned back to Soun. "Come on, I need ya ta tell me what's happening."
Another groan, then he blinked, looking at Ranma for a moment without really seeing him. His head slumped forward again. He's in shock. "Hey, come on, wake up. You can't go ta sleep now. That'd be bad."
Soun gave another unfocused look, then his eyes shot open wide, and he half-lunged up, stopping with a cry of pain. Ranma lowered him back against the wall, gently. "Don't try ta get up yet. We gotta healer coming. What happened?"
"It was... a sorceress, Zendor, attacked, and she had Genma and the Kuno boy with her."
Ranma jerked back in shock. "My- My father? What was he doing?"
Soun winced. "He... it was his body, and it fought with all his skills, but his mind... his will... He didn't recognize the girls... Didn't hold anything back... I was managing Kuno until Zendor..." He coughed, then continued, voice weaker. "Never saw him fight like that... like it was kill or die... not since we were boys together..."
"Oh, that ain't good..." Her mental voice reached out. Usagi! I need you!
Her voice came from behind him. "I was helping Konatsu."
Ranma leaned out of her way, let the silver-haired Senshi kneel beside the slumped figure. Behind her, Konatsu was walking into the building, supported by Nanoha. The small man was pale; drained – the healing had restored his flesh but left him utterly drained and weak. "You pick the worst women to piss off, Saotome."
"It's a gift. How'd they do it? You, Ukyo, Akane... Nabs an' Soun're no slouches either..."
The exhausted pseudokunoichi murmured a word of thanks to Nanoha, slumped onto a cushion. "Your father fought without any concern for his own safety, and backed by sorcery." A pause. "And Ukyo and I... were not at our best."
Ranma nodded. "I getcha." Man. This ain't good at all. Standing, she turned to Nanoha and Fate, who were both doing wizardy things in the back yard. "Anything?"
Fate's grin was wide. "We're in time. The residue of her transport spell is still fresh enough to trace."
"Good." Ranma's reply was grim.
"Interesting. I don't think she's trying to disguise her signal, it's just naturally decaying. Back at the apartments, what was left got swamped out by some slop- powerful magics being thrown around." Kal McLaren very carefully did not look at Usagi, Nanoha, or Fate, suddenly seeming even more enthralled by the spellwork than he'd been moments previously. From the couch he was lying on, almost asleep, Konatsu chuckled.
Dai took pity, covered him. "Didn't help that there'd been so much time for everything to fade before we got a look, either."
Usagi was giving his squadmate a look, but Fate looked like she was trying to hold in a giggle. Nanoha nudged her gently in the ribs. "So," began the White Devil, "Do you think you can track it down?"
"Just about. If Megan can come through with the back-trace data they promised, we should be in business."
The little comm projection showing Megan's sensor tech piped up. "I just need another minute or so. The computer's crunching the numbers now." Toya Hilux grinned. "You guys got me just the data I need. With that, I'm unstoppable."
A little weird, but her heart was in the right place, thought Dai. And unlike the frigate's comm officer – a typical idiot 'senior service' space rat – she gave a damn about the marines, treated them as fellow servicemembers and not combination ornamentation/passengers. If only we could work with more decent people like that in the fleet.
Inspector Kaga, who'd gotten by fairly well with the magic and such he'd been dealing with so far this evening, looked a bit weirded out by that comm projection. At least twice, he'd looked like he was about to poke it or something, which was kind of amusing. "Will you be able to.. go after them?"
"Should be able to... huh. There's some really weird dimensional cruft in this signal... Yeah, we'll be able to drop a team at the other end."
Ranma was still pacing, but he paused for a moment to ask, "How long?"
"Sorting it now, Agent Saotome. I'll let you all know."
The martial artist gave a choppy nod, then resumed pacing, muttering something that didn't get translated. Under the circumstances, Dai could guess. It looked like he was going to explode if they didn't get results soon.
LaFeur saw it too. He grabbed Ranma by the shoulder. "We'll get them back, Saotome. Don't you worry about that." Huh, what happened to his accent?
Ranma growled something.
The French-Canadian smiled a teeth-baring grin. "You don't get rid of us that easily, sensei."
Jones nodded sharply beside him. "Spies or not, we're not so impartial to the world that we'd let this stand. Besides, I've eaten at Ukyo's place. World needs more good chefs like her; On those grounds alone I'd go after her." Oh, it was nice to get a little confirmation, even if it didn't really matter at this late date.
Ranma paused, looked the three of them over. "You guys are sure you wanna do this? It's gonna be dangerous; we're chasing a sorceress into her own lair."
Bond's smile was a knife edge. "Danger is my middle name."
The martial artist nodded. "You guys got your gear with you? We're goin' as soon as they know where ta drop us."
Michael Jones had to borrow some gear from the Tokyo PD – in the general mess, they'd scrambled a squad of riot police, the largest of whom's gear almost fit him when he adjusted everything as big as it could go. The riot cops heard the forming plan, and their boss flatly refused to go along, muttering something that he couldn't quite catch after; something about demons and fools. Then he'd valiantly offered to set up a perimeter around the Tendo Dojo should something pop up. The spy couldn't really blame them. He didn't much like the thought of going after an arson-prone, murderous sorceress in her own home either.
But the opportunity to see the Bureau agents in action made it the kind of intelligence coup that if he didn't go after it, his bosses would skin him alive, sprinkle what was left in sugar, and stake him over an anthill.
Ballistic vest, taser, sidearm... He wasn't sure how effective they'd be. The Bureau marines didn't like firearms; but that seemed almost a cultural thing.
Whatever she can do, she's supposedly a human being under all the power. Who knows? I might just get lucky.
As he walked back into the Tendo Dojo, he kept fiddling with his kit. It just wasn't designed for a guy his size – not his fault all Japanese were so runty compared to a red-blooded American boy. Still, it'd be heaps better than nothing. And if the pistol wasn't a familiar make, it was just about the right size for his hand – the young Japanese SWAT who had loaned it to him seemed vaguely embarrassed by it, and for him it would have been a cannon – and it had the solid feel of a quality weapon.
Ranma was still stalking around, trying not to get in anyone's way, eyes darting to the various signs of battle damage, as if he was trying to figure out what had happened, and in what order. Given what he'd seen the little bastard do before, Jones figured there were decent odds he'd manage to if he could calm down enough to think properly.
McLaren, Maller, Takamachi, and the little disembodied head of someone in orbit were all together, working on their route. Aston was surrounded by, well, by a cloud of floating bits of metal and ceramics; presumably the equivalent of cleaning his weapon before a fight. Bond and Rio were conversing in low tones in the kitchen. He looked almost relaxed; hadn't even bothered to go off somewhere to gear up. Of course, given what they said about MI6's Quartermaster division, he was probably carrying enough weapons and holdouts to outfit a Gurkha division.
He heard someone on the stairs; glancing over, he saw LaFleur descending. A brace of throwing knives – the Quebecois' personal weapon of choice – were hanging from his belt, and as he walked down, he absently flipped his butterfly knife around before it vanished into a forearm sheath. His face was concealed by a balaclava, a cigarette between his lips. "Gentlemen."
Ranma glanced over, did a double take. "Why the mask?"
LaFleur shrugged. "I've not gone out to cause havoc personally in a few years. The mask is... part of the uniform for that."
He had Saotome's full attention now. "You told me you were a desk jockey."
"Now."
"You lied to me," Ranma said, some growl coming back to his voice.
"Not at all, sensei. I told you the truth, you just never asked if I was always a desk jockey." A pause. "Isn't misdirection part of your family martial arts style?"
Ranma deflated. "...Point." He sighed. "Get rid of that cigarette before Soun sees it. I don't wanna deal with him freakin' about something else right now."
"But of course. I'm ready to go as soon as we can."
"That's on them," the martial artist nodded towards the group of heads-together mages.
0_O
Kasumi Tendo was a woman of grace and uncommon fortitude. She'd been young, far too young, when her mother had died. For the sake of her sisters, she had taken up the roll of mother, her own dreams laid aside to give them a stable, safe upbringing, even as their father messily self-destructed. It had required a great deal, forged her soul into steel. Not the same kind of steel that ran within her sisters, perhaps, but steel nonetheless.
So when a lash made of magic and lightning and raw pain struck her back, she did not cry out. She refused to give the sorceress that satisfaction.
"You lied tah me!" raged Kendra Zendor. "You lied, you bitch! You lied, an' yoah gonna pay foah it!" The lash struck again, and she stiffened but did not cry out.
Bound in rose vines made of black iron, Akane raged, too. "Let her go you witch! You wouldn't dare do this if my hands weren't tied!" She twisted and pulled at her bindings, black iron thorns digging into her flesh, drawing blood in dozens of little rivulets.
Beside her hung Nabiki, bound similarly. She too was furious, but it was a cold fury, the fury of an arctic storm, that she radiated. Beyond Nabiki was Ukyo; looking drained; battered; but defiant. Flanking the door they'd been dragged through were Tatewaki Kuno and Uncle Genma. Their eyes were blank, faces expressionless. Small things, looking like rag dolls, clung to their necks. Both men stood in stances of attention.
Kendra Zendor's laugh was tinged with madness. "Ah beat you once a'ready, girl. Ah kin do it again, if ah have to. Yoah all gonna die. T' Chinese bitch's lucky – ah can't find her, so she gets tah live."
Kasumi forced calm and far more serenity than she felt into her voice. "Why are you going to kill us? What have we done to you?"
"You've taken t' man Ah love. If Ranma don't want me? Fine. Nobody else'll have him, either."
Akane began to spit fury and profanities again.
If that is why she's doing this... Kasumi forced herself to be calm, and prepared to take on another burden on behalf of her sisters. "If that is your concern, you can leave the other three out of it."
Purple eyes flashed. "You ah in no position to tell me what ta do."
"You want to take the one Ranma loves away from him? Punish him for hurting you?" She paused, waited a moment for a fractional nod from Zendor. "I am the one he loves. There's no need to involve them. I will willingly stay, and suffer whatever you would inflict. Just spare the others."
Akane's face was bloodless, her expression one of horror. Ukyo's was similar, her jaw slack in surprise. Nabiki winced, then her expression turned calculating for a brief moment, before becoming a match of the other's.
Zendor, for her part, seemed to be considering it. Purple eyes met hers. "Why should Ah believe you? You've lied tah me befoah."
"Don't do it, Kasumi!" Nabiki's voice had just the right tinge of franticness to it, a hint of desperation as well. "That'd break his heart! To get us back and not you... too cruel." Her expression was one of fear, but her eyes declared, we will come back for you.
Akane didn't seem to realize what they were playing at. "What? No! No, that's not-" Kasumi flashed her a look, and she stopped, abruptly, the sick expression growing even moreso.
The sorceress looked between them all now, her fury temporarily ebbing, expression growing calculating. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, then slowly curved into a cruel smile. "Ah find myself in t'mood ta hurt him. Yoah right. Ah think Ah'll make it a lesson foah him. You three," she waved vaguely towards Akane, Nabiki, and Ukyo, "Can be mah messengers." She turned back to Kasumi. "You... Scream for me."
Kasumi braced as the madwoman drew back the hand holding her lash. She swallowed her pride; if she could free her sisters it would be worth it. She would give the gaijin the scream she wanted.
It was a good scream, and entirely unfeigned. It even half-drowned out the sound of an alarm. Not enough that Zendor did not hear it, however. She froze, glanced towards the door. "What in t'hells set off mah sentry wards?"
"The teleport area is clear," said Sergeant Aston over the comms.
Aston, Maller, and Saotome had taken point for this excursion, and were the first teleported through. The rest of the group waited somewhat impatiently in the Tendo's ruined living room. The rest of those going – LaFleur, Bond, McLaren, Rio, Tsukino, and Jones himself, would be following momentarily, given the teleport had worked.
Takamachi had tried to volunteer, and both Aston and Saotome had jumped down her throat. Most of the argument that had followed had been telepathic, but enough had been aloud(Saotome apparently couldn't manage the trick too well when he was angry) that Jones had learned a few... interesting... tidbits. One) Takamachi and Haralowan were a Couple. Two) they were both pregnant. and Three) No man had been involved in the process.
He didn't know the details, and he didn't want to know.
Nods went around the group, and Jones braced himself. The world dissolved into gold and silver and blue... and suddenly he was standing in another room. Stone predominated; two or three different kinds between the floor and walls, with the blacks and grays broken up by carpets and tapestries. A bookshelf dominated one wall, and next to it was a small freestanding cupboard.
Saotome was looking into that cupboard now, expression very carefully blank. Maller, behind him, didn't have as good a poker face. He looked disturbed. Given the events of the day so far, Jones resolved not to look for himself.
In a whisper pitched to carry no further than their ears, Aston said, "Everyone pair up, and let's get searching. Saotome, can you sense anyone here?"
There was a pause as the martial artist shook himself, taking a deliberate step away from whatever he'd been looking at. "Other than us, I can feel nine people here."
"That makes five potential hostiles. Look sharp everyone; let's move out."
He ghosted forward, down a hallway, deeper into the building.
This place is a rat warren, sent Kia as they stalked through the halls. There were dozens of side rooms, several halls leading off, in the place.
We need ta find a way down, added Ranma. I'm lookin' as hard as I can, an' they're all below us. At least his ki sense worked here; the entire place was laden with magic, his scars ached just being here, using them to detect anything specific was out.
Aston nodded sharply. Ranma wasn't sure when they'd agreed to let the Sergeant lead the show here, but he was willing to live with it. He was too close to fury to think tactically right now, letting a cooler head prevail would probably work better.
"Stairway here," said Kal in clipped tones. The support mage had been speaking aloud since they arrived, making sure the entire team could understand him. Amazin' how much ya take somethin' fer granted, when ya suddenly ain't using it, thought Ranma.
Still, he was vaguely proud of his students; they were all moving quieter than they had when they'd arrived – he' been on a serious sneak with Aston's bunch before; the difference was very noticeable. The spies were just as good, even without magic. And Ranma was willing to be that if he was wearing body armor that was properly fitted, and not the stuff he'd borrowed, Jones would be better. For himself, he was not in top shape – this place fairly dripped with magic, and the ache was digging into his very bones. Add that to several nights of poor sleep; and he was hurting. But he refused to let it stop him. Akane, Nabs, Kasumi, and Ukyo depended on him right now, and he'd die before he let them down.
They put Ranma on point for the stairs. Shrouding himself in the Umi Sen Ken, he ghosted down. The stairs were narrow, steep – one good fighter could hold them against damn near anything from the top – and he stepped carefully. Most of the house smelled faintly of life, smells of food, some sweat, little lingering traces that, while mostly empty, it was not left derelict. Clean, mostly. Down here... he smelled old fear, blood, urine, and other unsavory things. I ain't gonna like this. Pausing, he sent word back up. Gimmie a little more lead. I don't think we're gonna like what's down here.
Remember, Saotome – you've got backup that's actually worth a damn right now. You don't have to do it all yourself. Aston's mental voice held mild reproof.
I know, I know. I'm scoutin' – I won't fly off t'handle just yet.
He took the last few stairs, and emerged into a dungeon of sorts. It looked like, once upon a time, this had been a storage area, but someone had built in walls with some kind of brick that didn't match the rest of the architecture, complete with crude but solid looking bars. The cells nearest the door looked empty, but beyond them...
He let the Umi Sen Ken fall away. "Gos! You all right in there?"
The otaku, slumped against the wall, jerked, head snapping up. He looked like hell. "Well. What took you so long?"
"Trackin' this shit ain't easy." Ranma looked at the walls of the little cell. "I think I c'n bust this open, but it won't be a quiet job."
"Leave it for a minute... Ranma... this is bad."
Ranma was about to reply glibly, paused. "I know the crazy lady has Akane an' t' others. I know she's got Kuno an' pops workin' for her. I missin' anything?" He's sort of an expert; can't hurt to ask.
"She's got... I'm not sure how to describe it. It's some kind of a variation of a Pactico; but instead of her champion getting an artifact, she does." He took a breath. "It's not fun to be on the inside of it. She's got an artifact that lets her... take over someone, from me, and something that lets her create vines, from Kodachi. I don't know if she... did it with your father or Tatewaki. Be careful."
Ranma mulled that over a moment, but before he could respond, he heard Aston clear his throat behind him. "What's a 'pactico?'
The martial artist swore under his breath, then turned. "It's a sort of ritual magic. I... can't tell ya much more. I don't know much more'n that."
Aston's eyes bored into his own. Are we about to get screwed because of classified information?
No. It's... the short version is that t' ritual makes an artifact ta help t' bearer protect a mage. An' if anyone asks, I didn't tell you that.
...fine. Let's keep moving.
"Sure you don't want us ta bust ya out just yet, Gos?"
"Not until you have her contained. It's safer in here."
At the far end of the room, double-doors slammed open. Kendra emerged, flanked by Kuno and Genma. "Who dares disturb mah- Ranma? You..."
Every instinct screaming to rush her, Ranma forced himself to stand fast. "Where are they?"
"Nowhere you can find them. Ah won't let anyone have you if Ah can't."
Ranma was about to snarl a reply when Jones opened fire, joined a split second later by Bond. The bullets crashed into a shield a few feet before the sorceress. In the confines of the room, the two pistols were deafeningly loud. Ranma heard several people yelling in confusion.
Kendra darted back through the doors, which slammed shut. As she did, Genma and Tatewaki rushed forward with deadly intent.
Ranma moved to intercept his father, and very nearly missed. Genma was going all out; in a way that he almost never did, moving with a single minded devotion utterly unlike his usual casual laziness. The heavyset martial artist turned towards him, one hand lashing out; ki shaping a vacuum blade.
Shrouding his own hand with ki, Ranma slapped it aside; it carved a furrow in the flagstones before dissipating. Behind his glasses, Genma Saotome's eyes were blank. Pity. I wanted to see him shocked, when I did that to him. Ah well. Father lashed out once more, a two fingered blow aiming to gouge out an eye. Against anyone slower than Ranma; it would be successful, almost certainly fatal, given the power behind it – more than enough to punch into a skull through an eye socket.
Ranma was faster than his father. He ducked the strike, caught Genma's arm in the split second where the larger man was at full extension, and body flipped him into the ceiling. Before he could hit the floor, Ranma was under him, fists blurring as he expunged a... great deal of anger and frustration. "Amaguriken!" The hail of blows kept his father pinned against the ceiling.
By the time he let the technique fall away, allowing his unconscious father to thump heavily onto the stones, the rest of the room was almost calm. Jones was literally sitting on an unconscious Kuno, rubbing at his shoulder. Kuno's customary bokken lay at the base of the stairs in three pieces. Usagi held some kind of doll, concentrating a spell on it. As he watched, it disolved.
The Staff Sergeant turned towards Ranma. "Are you done?" His tone was mild.
"Still gotta get Kendra." Ranma's reply was without apology.
"We'dve helped you, but you looked like you really wanted your pound of flesh out of his hide." Dai's smile was wide.
"Pops had it comin' even before he decided ta work for t' bad guys."
"I hate to come to Genma's defense," began Usagi, "But I don't think he had a choice. Get that little voodoo doll thing off his neck, I think it's a mind control charm."
He did so – the little thing put up surprising resistance to his attempt at removal – and tossed it to Usagi, who disposed of it as she did the last one. Then she spoke, her voice that of the Princess. "Now. Let's find her and end this."
She looks frazzled. Good. Help must be here, thought Nabiki Tendo. She gave Kendra Zendor a look of unfeigned loathing as the sorceress stalked back into her little torture chamber, out of breath and without her bodyguards.
"How did they find me?" she muttered as she stalked up. "An' what do Ah do w' you four?"
Kasumi suggested in her usual, gentle tones, "Let us go and beg for mercy? Ranma is not a cruel man; nor are those he associates with. They would likely grant it to you."
"They have already tried tah shoot me. Ah am not inclined tah trust anythin' from them."
Nabiki forced herself not to smirk, hoped the sorceress wouldn't look at her too close. She'd lost some skin, but she'd almost managed to free one hand with careful twisting. Trying to break the vines – whatever they were, it wasn't the iron they looked like – by main force would be futile; if an enraged Akane couldn't do it, she surely couldn't either. A few more minutes, though...
"Ah won't let you get away."
"Why such devotion to burning your bridges?" asked Ukyo, sounding significantly more collected than she had earlier. "Ranma-"
"No! No more of yoah lies!" Zendor had almost looked calm, but she was getting worked up again; madness spilling over. "Ah won't let you get away! Ah won't let him get away with breakin' mah heart!" She began to incant something in a language Nabiki did not recognize. Power filled the air-
And then the world exploded in pain.
Fire and ice lashed her as magic rushed along the vines, and she felt more than heard herself scream. Vision clouded by pain, she could see that her sisters suffered likewise. Satisfied by this work of her hands, Kendra retreated further into the warren of her sanctum.
The stone house was even more mazelike underground. The temptation to split up was strong, but nobody wanted to be caught alone by the sorceress. Ranma seemed more... stable... since beating the everloving shit out of his father, but he was still on edge. Everyone was on edge – this place just plain felt nasty.
A cry of pain echoed down the halls. LaFleur felt himself stiffen, saw the others do the same. Then, a split second later, Ranma was simply gone, a red-and-black blur rounding the next bend. Tsukino, Aston, and Rio shot off after him. The rest of the group followed at a more mortal pace – though Kal, Dai, and LaFleur himself managed something a lot faster than the other spies. The Quebecois grinned. Plenty of utility in this, I think.
The tunnel emptied out in a large room of darker stone than the others, where black iron rose vines grew from the stone, and entangled the four missing women. "Tabarnak..."
Ranma glanced over. "Don't try ta grab it, it'll try ta snare you."
Kal and Tsukino were heads together, radiating that odd pressure that seemed to indicate telepathy. After a moment, Tsukino looked up. "We'll get them out of this. The rest of you, stop her." She started to incant something. Ranma, his earlier fury back in full bloom, deliberately looked away from the four as Aston grabbed his shoulder. The moved to the far end of the room; and LaFleur could easily see why; there were three separate doors there, leading deeper into the warren.
Tsukino finished her spell, and the cries of pain from the captive women faded for a moment, then were replaced with panicked yelps; vines lashed out, snaring Tsukino, McLaren, and Jones, who had, by instinct, grabbed at the Senshi's arm to try and pull her away from the metal grasp. For a moment, all was confusion as they tried to decide how to act – then in a voice that was recognizably Tsukino's but far more regal, "I've got this! I'll break this spell, the rest of you, find her and shut her down."
Aston gave a choppy nod. "This way," he growled, took off down a corridor.
"How'd those vines... do that?" LaFleur asked, mind racing as he tried to keep up.
"Not sure. There must be something actively maintaining the spell."
"I don't suppose there's anything we could do about that?" asked Bond.
"You might." They came to a fork in the hall. "Ranma?"
"I think she's ta the left. Other way... not sure."
"If we get after her, can you two look for anything she might be anchoring that spell with?" Rio looked thoughtful.
"Wouldn't know where to start."
Ranma shot him a grin. "Simple enough, Marceau. If it looks important, wreck it."
Marceau and Bond exchanged grins of razor ice. "We c'n do that, I think."
Genma Saotome awoke as if from a nightmare.
Fighting. The girls. Torture. Screaming inside; helpless outside, in thrall to a madwoman. Fighting his son; being defeated in three moves... Even the Yama Sen Ken, he brushed aside. I don't even know how; didn't even think that was possible to do that...
With a moan, he drew himself up, shook his aching head to clear it. Something in his chest twinged. Feels like a cracked rib. Idiot boy, so careless as to hurt your own father by accident...
He looked around. He'd not been kept in these cells – Zendor, correctly, had felt he would be able to break out of them too easily. But he knew where he was, and he had no intentions of staying anywhere even remotely close to that bitch of a sorceress any longer than he had to. He made his way to the stairs, breath hitching painfully. Several cracked ribs. And some broken. I'm in no condition to rough it...
His thoughts raced for a moment as he considered his best method of escaping this place. And they ran in the direction of the Arch.
He was no wizard; he'd have no way to change where it lead, for that seemed to require a spell of some kind... but activating it was no more involved than touching a single rune. He could use it to get himself back to Tokyo.
At the realization, he began to laugh – a laugh that cut off immediately as pain stabbed through his chest. He settled for chuckled wheezes as he cautiously made his way to the Arch, hidden on the uppermost floor.
Touching the rune made the whole thing light up pleasantly. Smiling, happy in his escape, he walked through, blinked at the flare of light -
"Lightning Bind!"
"Restrict Lock!"
As his vision cleared, he saw two sorceresses whom he vaguely recognized, one armed with a staff, the other a scythe. They both gave him ill favored looks. Beside them stood Soun Tendo, who began to bellow in fury.
And in front of them, stood a very large squad of officers in Tokyo PD SWAT uniforms.
"Genma Saotome, you are under arrest," said the officer closest, snapping steel handcuffs around his magically-restrained wrists. "If you come quietly, it'll go better for you."
This is hardly fair. They're probably going to bring up all those old things I did for the Master. This isn't going to be fair at all.
Ranma crashed through a heavy set of double doors without pausing. They were getting close. He could feel her ki, now, and they were getting very close. Aston was yelling at him to wait. He knew that'd be a good idea, but right now he was focused on finding her.
Another corner, and he was in what looked like a dining room. Two long low tables ran its length, benches to either side. Zendor was leaning heavily against one of them, at the far end of the room, panting. "Give it up, Zendor. You can't outrun me, an' you ain't getting' away."
"Ah... may not win... but ah... refuse ta lose... ta anyone." She paused, gathered herself. "Not even ta you. Ah'll kill them befoah I let that happen."
Ranma started walking around one table. If I can keep her distracted, maybe I can get ta lunge-and-grab range before she does anything else. "Let 'em go, Zendor. Let 'em go, surrender, an' it'll go better for ya."
"Why? So you kin break mah heart again? Why should Ah trust you, Ranma? Why should Ah care. I'da done anything foah you! An' you threw it in mah face!"
"I told you outright. I didn't lie to you, I gave ya that much respect. I'm sorry I hurt you, honestly. But this has gone too far. Back off now, while you still can." Almost there. "Please." Buy it for a couple more seconds...
They heard footsteps rushing down the corridor, Dai shouting a battle cry, and the moment vanished. She snapped off a bolt of force that caught him cleanly, sending him toppling, and pulled what looked like a card from a pocket. Pactico. A word, and something flew across the room, and Dai's battlecry cut off sharply. Whirling, Ranma saw the green haired mage turn on Aston and Kia, snapping off a spell that was quick, weak, and utterly unexpected; just enough to throw them both off ballance. Whirled back; saw Zendor vanish out a side door.
Kia regained her feet quickly, threw up a shield. "Go! I'll keep this idiot busy; kick her ass!" She snapped a blast at the zombie-like Dai. "I always told you, you needed to work on your defensive magics, but you never listened..."
Ranma and Aston bolted after Kendra; this fight could not last much longer.
Blinking, Tatewaki Kuno returned to the land of the waking.
He hurt; as if he'd been whomped on by a whole bunch of enthusiastic folks. A moment's thought brought him up to speed. The gaes has been lifted. The black magic's touch taken from my mind.
He stood, slowly, looked around. In one of the cells he saw a familiar figure; the sunken-eyed otaku, whose only redeeming trait was that he, too, saw the glory that was Akane. "Are you back with us?" asked Gosunkugi.
"I am! For I am a noble samurai and such a spell as that cannot hold me for any length of time!" A pause. "Which way did she go?"
Gos pointed to the inner door.
"My thanks! I shall not allow this injustice to stand!" He raced off, in search of a spellcaster.
"Well," said James Bond, "I rather think this is the sort of important thing Ranma wanted us to wreck."
"It certainly has that kind of look," agreed Marceau LaFleur as he looked at the array of rune-etched stones and softly glowing crystals. "Where should we start?"
"Well," said Bond, as he pulled something small, round, and heavy-looking out of a hidden pocket. "If you start on the left, I'll start on the right. We'll meet somewhere near the middle, I'm sure."
LaFleur looked at the first rune he came across on the left; what looked like a of silver inlaid in gray stone. He drew one of his larger throwing knives, and jammed it, point first, against an edge, prying it up. For a moment, all that seemed to happen was the feeling of static building in the back of his teeth, then the rune inlay came loose with a low, electrical pop.
Glancing over, he saw Bond, who'd slapped what he could see was an iron disk with some unfamiliar characters inscribed on it. "What's that?"
"A little something from Q division. I don't know when the old gent learned how to make it, but I'm rather glad it works." Bond's smile had some genuine warmth.
"Got a spare?"
The British agent tossed him a disk. "I'll need that back. Q gets rather cross when I don't bring back my equipment."
"I'll do my best." He turned to the next magical thing in line, and smiled. This, I can do.
Kendra Zendor set the wards securing her innermost sanctum, and prepared to play a waiting game. She had faith in her artifacts. Faith in her spellcraft. Faith in the wards her father and his friends had built into this rambling old stone fortress; many of them anchored here, in runes along the columns and walls of this chamber, though they drew their power from elsewhere. She would tear out Ranma's heart, through those women. After that... she didn't much care what happened. She had built her future around him for so long, that the idea, now, of building a new future without him... terrified her. She could not deal with it, not now, not with the pain of loss and the fracturing of the truths that formed the very bedrock of her world so fresh.
She'd have her revenge. What came after that... was what came after that. She would burn that bridge when the time came. For now, she would concentrate on the revenge. Evened scales would make figuring everything out so much easier.
Some slammed into the door with a heavy thud and a muffled shout; but the wards held strong. They were expertly crafted; designed to stand against the fury of a dragon so long as the matrix of anchor runes held solid-
She felt one of those self-same runes shift, and hastily scried its source. She saw a masked figure – not one of the mages who'd been chasing her, so if what the vodouisant had told her was true, he had to be... "That spah is sappin' mah sentry wards," she muttered. "Oh, no..."
The power flowing into her door's protections failed, and those same doors crashed open. Ranma – fairly burning with rage – and the eldest of the mages stood there. "Show's over," said the older man. "I represent the Time-Space Administration Bureau. Surrender to my custody, Kendra Zendor, and I swear you'll get a fair trial, and you won't face a sentence of death, whatever its outcome."
Before she could respond, Ranma growled, "Or take yer chances with us. I don't wanna kill you, but I am gonna stop you."
"Ah will not lose now! Not even t' you!" She incanted a spell, threw bolts of energy at the both of them. In the confines of the room, neither could dodge to the best of their ability, and the mage, at least, had to catch the blast with a shield. Pulling power from her failing wards, Kendra Zendor prepared for a final battle.
Kia pushed down the urge to swear. She'd sparred with Dai Maller hundreds of times, over the years. She knew the way he fought. Whatever it was that Kendra Zendor had thrown, whatever it had done... she was not fighting Dai Maller, but some strange, deadly, efficient thing using his body as a puppet.
She caught a blast on her shield, snapped off a counter. Maller caught it with a shield of his own. "Since when are you that quick?"
His only response was to begin charging up another blast. She dodged it, darted forward, inside his reach, snaking a foot behind one of his knees in a move Ranma had drilled them on, but Maller'd never really gotten down. Whatever was driving him knew the move, however. She fell back, blocked a sweep of his Device with her own. Throwing up another shield, she dropped back further – annoyingly, there wasn't enough headroom for her to take advantage of her newfound flight ability, which would have let her open the range to the point where she could make use of her best attacks. And he his, of course, but she was better at fast, potent attacks than he was, even if she couldn't hit quite as hard. Close in... well, against Dai, she'd be better off, but against whatever was driving him now, they seemed evenly matched.
I may have bitten off more than I can chew here... "You know, I never thought I'd miss your stupid banter, but at the moment I actually do." Mind in the fight, Rio. You can do this.
A small part of Aston's mind was trying to process the situation. His guestimate of Zendor's power, after surveying things at the Tendo Dojo, had been in the high A to AA range. More powerful than himself, but not by so much that he couldn't deal with it.
He caught another blast on his shields, darted back while charging up a response. She throws around so much power... I'd have to burn cartridges like confetti to match her!
Brass Claw turned in his hand, shifting into Staff Form, as he lashed out with a bolt. It wasn't his mightiest attack, but it was nothing to sneeze at. And some of the things Tsukino had been showing him, mixed with half-remembered shop-talk with a Neo-Belkan mage, had given him a way to snap it off quickly. It was just draining as hell. Like what she was doing should be draining as hell.
A hasty shield; inefficient as hell, but potent, and she blocked it. Sankt Kaiser, her power reserves seem endless! How is she...
Ranma charged in, pinning the sorceress with a rushing strike. She struggled, though she couldn't get any leverage. I don't think she's going to stay down, Saotome, he sent.
Not willingly, nope.
Aston popped a pair of cartridges; he only had two more clips handy, and he had the feeling that husbanding what reserve he had would be best; and charged a spell, runic circle forming before him. Target in close with something you didn't want to hit? He had just the thing...
"Ellith Kaiza Shok!" screamed Zendor, and a field of power blasted forth. Convulsing from electric shock, Ranma lost his grip, jerking back and away. Where's she getting so much power from?
As she pulled herself to her feet, letting the field drop away and Ranma sag for a moment against the flagstones, he finished his own spell. "Matra Blade Flurry!"
A dozen energy blades flew out, each on its own arc, curving around any shield to strike at Zendor from all directions. Her hastily snapped up shield caught five of them, a well timed dodge eluded two others; but still five blasts hammered into her, sending the sorceress flying across the room, rolling to a stop behind a pillar.
With a grace that seemed almost undiminished despite his obvious pain, Ranma sprang to his feet, circling Zendor's position to the right, even as Aston went left. Hard as that hit her she should be recovering about now... just have to hit her harder next time...
The wards anchored in the room suffered another sudden drop in power as she came in sight, already gathering a spell and looking for a target. She spotted Ranma first, rounded on him. "Amastermay Arksay!" The spell loosed a powerful beam of energy; distant kin of a Divine Buster, if he didn't miss his guess, and Ranma, reacting with his usual obscene speed, leapt over it. On the far side of the room, it pulverized one of the columns.
How is she- wait. The wards. They drop in power, and she pulls something out of her ass.
Saotome, he sent, I know where she's getting so much power from. She's using the spells anchored here as a supply.
That means there's a limit, right?
Yes, he snapped a shield up, blocking another of her spells; burning a cartridge to do it, But it's a damned big limit. At least we know.
We c'n work with that. "Moko Takibasha!" He loosed a ki blast as he ran. Knowin's power.
Tatewaki Kuno roared a battle cry as he stormed into Kendra Zendor's sanctum sanctorum, and spotted his prey; the foul mage who had caused such harm.
"Vile Spellcaster!" he shouted, "You, who have caused such agonies, you, who suborned my mind! Know, now, that you shall face the fury of the Kuno!"
Ranma, the gaijin, and Zendor all ignored him, intent on their own battle. That's not how it's supposed to work.
For a moment, the gears of the kendoist's mind ground as he struggled to change tactics. Finally, he succeeded; charged, loosing another battle cry. "For your crimes, prepare to die, Ranma Saotome!"
Still the sorcerer seemed to ignore him! "I may lack my blade, but know that the fury of the Kuno-"
Absently, almost as an afterthought, Ranma felled him with a backhanded strike; sending Kuno crashing back into the realm of unconsciousness.
Ranma darted around, trying to dodge the hail of blasts Kendra was sending his way. I never thought I'd ever want a shield so bad...
Aston was doing a bit better, one hand held out, anchoring a Round Shield; Brass Claw behind him in Sabre form, charging up something. A slight shift in his stance – Ranma snapped off a ki blast in time with his spell; the energy bolts crossing each other and splashing against her shield.
Any ideas, Saotome? She's pulling power out of these wards; enough to put her out of my weight class.
Workin' on one, Tom, gimmie a minute ta think here.
Ranma darted in close, spun around one blast, caught part of another, and kicked off of Kendra's shield with a wave of ki. Got you now. Spinning in midair, he bounced off of the ceiling, using it to propel himself back down. Zendor was still trying to shift her aim up to him when he hit the shield again, ki wrapping his extended finger. Rapidly, he tapped out a pattern; not as clean a pattern as he liked – he didn't get that good a look at the structure of her shield – but close enough with a little added force... "Tortoise Cracking Finger!"
For a spit second, nothing happened. Then Kendra – presumably realizing what his technique had just done, started swearing and pumped power into her shield, trying to keep it holding together despite his efforts. Ranma backflipped clear as the shield failed with a hefty bang of imploding air and a scattering of violet confetti that burned at his scars. "Aston! Hit it!"
"Sabre Arc Slash!" The wave of energy flashed across the room, taking Zendor full in the chest. She stumbled back, crashing to the flagstones.
"Nicely done," said Ranma.
"I could say the same. That was quite the trick." The two advanced on the fallen sorceress. "How does it work?"
"I'll demonstrate in class. Fer now... Zendor, yer comin' with us. You've lost. Drop yer spells, an' it'll go better for ya." Pops would probably call me weak. I don't wanna kill her, even after all this. She's sick, an' she needs help.
For a moment, Zendor met his gaze, measured the sincerity in his words. For a moment, as tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes, he thought she was going to do it; going to give up and end this madness.
Then she screamed, and his only warning was a split second of power rushing into her, before a blast of magic crashed into him like a tidal wave.
Ranma; younger, faster, and with vastly quicker reflexes, seemed to wrap himself in ki; the blast pushed him back perhaps a dozen feet with a hiss of pain, but he didn't fall.
Aston was not so fortunate. He was a hair too slow, bringing up a barrier, and the wave caught him and threw him into the nearest wall. He hit shoulder-first, and felt something go pop within the joint. Then his head whiplashed into the stones, and he saw stars for a moment, sagging to the ground.
The sorceress pushed herself back to her knees. Aston felt the wards in the room abruptly fail completely as she pulled the last of their power back into herself. Interesting trick. She just won't quit.
Zendor's voice was a ragged shriek. "If Ah can't have you, nobody can! The moon bitch won't save them! Ah'll kill them all!" Then she started chanting a spell in a language he didn't recognize. He tried to gather some magic of his own, to counter whatever she was about to do; but failed. His shoulder and arm were numb, and his thoughts sluggish from the blow to the head.
He was helpless, and this madwoman was about to kill four young women. Sankt Kaiser no...
Ranma felt a leaden ball of fear drop into his stomach at her words. She means it. She's not gonna stop. I have to... I have to make her stop. Though wounded and riding the knife edge between adrenaline and exhaustion, he pulled his ki together, and did the only thing he could think of that might work. Fire flared, and incantation turned to a scream of pain. Then silence.
Usagi Tsukino was pitting her will and might against the horrid, disgusting spell that that woman was using to kill her friends. It was not simply the damage to their bodies she countered, but the vast plethora of pains it was inflicting. Trying to dampen them; keep them from driving her friends mad, was taxing. A small, perversely impassive voice in her head observed the sheer artistry of the spellcraft – without a doubt, a work of mad genius – and she hated herself for seeing that even as she used that recognition to find flaws and aid her healing.
Damn this place! She thought, teeth gritting. She could not draw upon her full power in this world; something about the Magical World cut her off from all but a tithe of her power; and she was not sure if it would be possible to move them to the portal without killing them; the damnable, black iron thorn vines still bound them, countering any motion to remove them by trying to ensnare the helper. Barbs of iron pierced her flesh, inflicting that same pain upon her. She would not fail. She would not let this, this... monster defeat her. She-
Abruptly, the vines holding them disintegrated into dust, and she almost fell. The spell was broken, and she quickly completed her healing of all its victims. "Go Ranma!" she blurted, "We won!"
Ranma Saotome looked down on the still-burning remains of Kendra Zendor, and told himself that it was the only way. She'd been unhinged, raving, an obvious lunatic to beggar the worst he'd ever seen from the siblings Kuno, paired with a genuinely frightening amount of magical might. She'd been bent on a brutal murder; in the midst of making it happen, after torturing and mind-controlling people. In short, a dangerous, rabid dog in human form, and it had been a mercy to burn her down.
It almost helped. The scent of charred flesh hit his nose, and he turned, staggered two steps, and vomited up the last day's meals in three great, shaking heaves. Two more, bringing only bile, and he finally managed to straighten, wiping foul liquid from his mouth with a tattered sleeve.
Across the room, he saw Aston. The TSAB marine looked from Zendor, to him, and back, ashen face tinged with green. TSAB don't like to kill. They like their magic; it can just disable. Sorry, Tom, for spoiling your trip.
A side door burst open; disgorging LaFleur and Bond, the latter with pistol in both hands, the former carrying a brace of knives, faint flickers of ki dancing across them. They took in the stark tableau in momentary silence. The Quebecois pulled off his mask as he took in the scene, face very, very blank. The Englishman smirked, and gave Ranma an approving nod that nearly brought up more bile. The sociopath approves of me. How nice.
An energetic shout – Ukyo, by the sound – as others raced into the room. It cut off sharply. Ranma turned. Jones, his face almost as blank as LaFleur's. Ukyo, clothing tattered, one of Akane's ki hammers held loosely, eyes full of surprise. Nabiki, eyes burning with satisfaction as she looked upon her tormentor's corpse. Kal, his expression almost a mirror of Aston's. Akane, mouth agape, looking shocky. Kasumi, one hand covering her mouth, eyes filled with pity even for one who'd tried to kill her. Usagi, her eyes wide, full of pain, sorrow, and understanding as they met Ranma's own.
He barely recognized his own voice as it rasped. "I'm sorry. I tried to stop her without... but... I couldn't find a way; and I took too long..." He shuddered, coughed. It sounded like excuses, even to him, the ever tempting, I did what I had to do. "I'm sorry."
Marceau found his voice first. "Sensei... let's get out of here."