New Blood
by Saber Alexander McConnell
Rated PG13

CHAPTER 29: Talpa

Talpa stood within his chamber, the empty sockets of his mask peering out at the men and women who stood before him. Ten warlords, his three ranking ones at the forefront, the rest behind, standing there silently.

In truth, Talpa was pleased; they had caught three of the new Ronin group, and he knew the others would come after them in any way possible. One way or another he would have them all here. However he was not pleased that his three oldest servants had all failed in their quests. It was luck that lost Sekhmet his victim, and Dais had already brought one Ronin it was true, but failure was failure. Talpa's immediate reaction, a burst of painful dark energy, had been their punishment—mild, but he did not need them weakened. There would be more fighting to come, and some of them had been injured in their fights, Sekhmet and Shuang worst of all.

And now, he addressed them all. "So," Talpa murmured, his eyes sweeping the chamber. "Three only. Three of these children...and one was captured by my Nether Spirits." He turned to Dais, who'd had to be healed of his wounds from his battle with the boy who'd gotten the Wildfire armor, and nodded briefly. He'd failed, and so would not be praised, but his earlier success would save him a reprimand. Dais saluted.

He turned then to Jin Tanaka, whose expression was unreadable, and to Heath Jenkins, who looked extraordinarily smug. "You've done well," said Talpa simply, nodding in acknowledgement to their bows and pleased looks. The others, Talpa favored with a withering look of disgust. "I am disappointed. The rest of you are fortunate the situation is salvageable." He looked to Haazita and Cade; Cade blushed furiously under his gaze, and Haazita's dark eyes flashed with anger. "You two," Talpa said softly. "You fought two against one girl. And still she escaped. I am disgusted."

Cade bowed low, professing his regret and apologies in Ancient Japanese, clearly ashamed of his failure. It wasn't so much that he'd lost a fight; he enjoyed fighting, but his real humiliation was being outwitted. His real pride was his cunning, and to be so easily fooled grated at his pride. As for Haazita, she imitated the boy's behavior rather clumsily, adding in a snarl that it would not happen again. "Just let me get my hands on her once more," she snarled. "She'll not escape Haazita's grasp again!"

"I hope not," said Talpa simply, turning again to address the entire group. "And so. The Ronin have managed to escape my notice, beyond the range of the Nether Spirits and the magics of this Realm. But I know that they will come here. When they do, we must be prepared for them."

"Just tell us what to do, master Talpa," said Vitorrio determinedly, shaking a fist. "And we'll do it!"

"For now we will need information. Until those whelps arrive here there is little we can do, and the more information we can get on the wretched brats we can get, the better. I think it's time we all had a little conversation."

---

Killian sat in the water, his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. Demetrius lay half on Tarun's lap, sleeping, Tarun making sure he didn't slip underwater. None of them were willing to remain completely armored up, not while those horrid spirit things were up there, waiting to drain the power. And so they took turns sleeping, two of them watching the third to make sure he didn't slip beneath the water. Tarun was singing softly, a sound that was surprisingly soothing to Killian, even though the child did not sing all that well. That he could sing at all in the awful situation was a comfort.

Tarun was in the middle of a little singsong about what a creep Talpa was when the doors at the far end of the chamber opened. Tarun stopped singing abruptly, shaking Demetrius urgently awake, as feeble light spilled into the vast cavern.

Demetrius made a sound of half-awake irritation as the warlord Kale stepped in through the door, followed by Dais and Sekhmet. Behind them were all seven of the others, streaming into the chamber like ants and surrounding the three captives before they could even stand. Killian scrambled to his feet in alarm, noting every one of them had a weapon in hand. 'There's no way we could possibly fight them,' he thought desperately, looking down at his own body. 'We're not even armored up!'

"Master Talpa wants to speak with you," said Kale, his tone sounding a little weary as he approached. Killian wondered what they'd been up to; it was clear the other Ronin had managed to escape, and he hoped suddenly that whoever Kale had fought had kicked his arse all over the landscape.

"Oh, yeah?" said Tarun, his fists clenched, his back against Killian's and Demetrius's. "What if we don't?"

Kale peered at the boy, his lip curled in disgust. "If not, boy, then I have the great pleasure of beating you down and dragging you before him. Unless you think you can fight us and win? You've been here hours, drained of energy and power, no food, little sleep...powerful Nether Spirits hover above you and you are outnumbered more than three to one. If you believe you can defeat us, by all means try."

Killian winced slightly as Tarun scowled, his posture stiffening with indignation, but the boy said nothing. Killian hated to admit it, but there was nothing they could do just then except to comply. He has a point, he said reluctantly with the others. We try to fight, we're gonna get our arses handed to us on a platter.

Tarun was not pleased, and sent a barrage of anger through the mind link, all directed at Kale, to whom he'd taken a great dislike. Killian grasped his shoulder, looking sideways at Demetrius's weary nod. He looked at Kale and sighed. "Fine," he said. "We'll go quietly." 'For now,' he added silently.

Kale smirked, bowing in mock courtesy, and gestured at the door. "Very good, boy. You will follow Dais and Sekhmet, then. At least you've some sense, Torrent."

Bristling at being called Torrent by this jerk, a name he had grown quite fond of, Killian set his shoulders back and stalked towards the two figured who'd moved into the doorway, the spider and snake warlords. He heard Demetrius and Tarun following, and looked back once to see that Tarun had taken the older boy's hand. 'He's scared,' Killian thought angrily. 'And so am I! I'll get these miserable jerks if it's the last thing I do.' He just hoped that it was not the last thing he ever did.

The procession was silent and grim, like a funeral march. Armored boots clanked on the dismal stone beneath their feet, clad drafts made Killian shiver and ruffled the flames of the blue-flame candles that lined the corridors.

The place was not much to look at. The hallways were stone from ceiling to floor, with heavy, wooden doors set into it at irregular intervals. Tarun had begun to sing again, softly, purely to annoy the warlords, Killian thought. He turned quickly at a clanging sound and a yelp of pain from Tarun.

"Ow!" Tarun hollered indignantly, rubbing his head, stopping and glaring furiously at the dark-armored warlord who'd struck him.

Killian tensed as several of the warlords raised their weaponry, and the warlord who'd hit Tarun growled at him to keep his mouth shut or he'd sew it shut. Killian only vaguely recognized the man, an Italian-sounding warlord with feline-ish armor. He grabbed Tarun's arm, ending a wave of soothing energy through the mind link. Easy, little mate, he said, urging the boy back into a walk, calming a little as their captors lowered their weapons slightly. Sing in the mind link if you like. I certainly like to hear it.

Oh! said Tarun, as if he'd not thought of it. That's a good idea. And so Killian's head was filled with a very peculiar version of song as they walked along the halls. It gave him something to focus on besides his own fear.

The chamber they were brought to was as gloomy and boring as the rest of the palace, though the figure who stood at the far end of it was anything but ordinary. The man was more than two meters tall, towering over even half the warlords, clad in full battle armor. But that wasn't the worst of it; the blood-red mask seemed to cover an empty visage; dark, blank eye sockets and a gaping, fanged maw for a mouth. The mask itself wouldn't have been so frightening if Killian hadn't the feeling there was nothing behind it.

The warlords herded Killian, Demetrius, and Tarun into the middle of the room, and retreated to the perimeter, watching. Tarun drew back slightly from the masked creature, his expression that of loathing. He was no longer singing.

Killian didn't blame him. The most optimistic, hopeful child in the world could not have sung in the presence of this monster; evil oozed from him like physical taint. He felt cold as the man looked down, his empty sockets seeming to glow with an unholy light. Demetrius cursed softly.

"Welcome, Ronin," said the demon with mock courtesy. Killian glanced briefly at Tarun, who scowled sullenly at the figure; he'd already met the bastard. Demetrius's scowl was far more belligerent as he gazed on the horrid specter, his lip curled with disgust.

"Right," Killian heard himself say, his voice a little higher than usual. "That was a great welcome, all right—who the hell are you?"

That's him! Tarun whispered urgently. Talpa!

Talpa gazed at Killian, and though the mask could not change expression, his disdain was clear. It seeped from his being the same way the evil did. "I suppose I should expect no more respect than that from an ignorant aborigine," he murmured.

Killian bristled at the insult, both to him and to the natives of his country.

"Little more than a savage, really," agreed Sekhmet, his deep voice tinged with unkind amusement. Killian turned to glare at him, noting with mild surprise he and the other warlords had shed their helmets.

They were a frightening lot. Sekhmet's hair was a toxic green, his skin yellowish and his eyes wide and without irises; Killian had the insane thought that he wasn't all human. Kale's hair was deep blue, his dark eyes peering at them with malice. A scar marred the skin around his left eyes. The white-haired one he and Nohano had met that day several weeks before, the one with the patch over his eye; was Dais, the one who wore the pinkish armor.

The lesser warlords were only slightly more normal looking. Shuang, the burly warlord of Destruction, was Oriental, with a broad face, and feral eyes whose black irises seemed too big. The Cruelty warlord...warlady?...was Oriental as well, and looked enough like Suisei to make Killian want to shudder; she was Jin Tanaka, the one Killian had fought in the desert, and he could not help but be intimidated by her sadistic gaze. The Englishman, Heath, had blond hair and green eyes like a tomcat. He was also quite tall, one of the tallest.

There was an African woman with wild, braided hair and a grin on her face that might almost look good-natured, if not for the cruel glint in her dark eyes. A young man, not too much older than Killian, looked vaguely familiar; he realized it was the one who had accompanied Dais when they'd identified Killian and Nohano as Torrent and Wildfire. There was brown-haired boy yet younger than most of the Ronin, peering at the group through blue eyes, and a tall, Italian man with cropped, black hair, and a grim visage.

Killian's attention was brought back to Talpa when Demetrius spoke aloud. "What do you want?" he asked in careful English. His tone was mild, his face impassive, but Killian could feel his fear through the link. Demetrius was always the calm one, quiet and adaptable, but the mind like was intimate, showing all to those who shared it. Killian hoped suddenly that this Talpa could not read what they sent to one another through it.

Talpa chuckled, a sound that made Killian shudder and clench his fists. "You mean your little friend here has not told you?"

He nodded to Tarun, and Killian looked at the boy, who scowled at having been singled out. "He says he wants to take over the world," said Tarun, scowling again, adding almost cheerfully, "But he won't."

Killian was afraid the demon would retaliate in anger, but he only laughed again, and Killian wasn't sure if it was better. He glanced around the room, fear growing in his chest, but the only doors were well guarded by the warlords. They really were trapped! He turned back to Talpa, having no idea what to do. He wasn't exactly used to dealing with being the captive of a demon.

"So, young Ronin," said Talpa, sitting down in a strange looking throne-like chair that looked as if it were made of wicker, or bamboo, or some weird kind of Oriental-style material. "So you have donned the armor that countless others have born before you. Or at least two of you have: Suiko and Kongou."

Killian blinked, wondering why those two words had not been translated, when Demetrius's sudden, comprehending voice came through the link. The Japanese names! Those are our armors!

Killian's eyes widened, and he looked back at Talpa, who looked—felt, really—smug. "So you have linked. I wondered if you had discovered that little gift. And the child, he links with you, also?"

The three youths exchanged glances, and Killian felt irritated on how he'd been manipulated into demonstrating their mind link. He didn't think the demon had "heard" them, but he'd clearly understood what was happening. He suspected his own expression probably went blank when he was linking.

Talpa stood once more, and Killian found himself taking a step back. Tarun did as well, though Demetrius stood his ground. "It would be unwise to refuse me what I want, brats," he hissed. "You and your friends have caused me and my warlords a great deal of trouble. They would be quite eager to be allowed to exact a little revenge for the little indignities you've inflicted on them."

'Clever,' Killian thought, trying not to let his hands shake. A true threat, and depreciation of their fighting abilities. "Little indignities", he'd called it.

"What is it you want to know?" asked Demetrius calmly, though Killian only just caught the tremor in his voice. Telepathically, he added, There's no reason not to tell him some things. He doubtless knows a lot already, and if we are careful, we can tell him some things and leave out those important ones.

Killian only just kept from nodding in answer, sending back his acknowledgement mentally instead.

What happened next was almost too fast for Killian to catch. There was a flash of bright red light, a yell of pain from Demetrius, and the stocky Russian boy flew across the room to land in an awkward heap. Killian stared, shocked, and ran to him to see if he was hurt.

Tarun turned and looked furiously at Talpa, his fists clenched. "Hey!" he protested, and Killian looked up sharply. "You can't do that to my friend!"

Tarun, no! Killian sent urgently.

Talpa looked at the boy, the eye sockets of his mask flaring red. He did not move, but a moment later, Tarun had also flown across the room with a cry of pain, skidding nearly to the doors. He scrambled hastily away from Kale, at whose feet he had landed.

"Do not use your mind link here again!" Talpa hissed as Killian helped Demetrius up and Tarun shakily stood. "That is but a small taste of what I can do to you here in my realm."

"Cooperate, fools," uttered Jin Tanaka, "and it will go easier for you."

Killian began to shake, partly from fear, but more because his friends had been hurt. It was like that in the water chamber—every time the spirits advanced, draining them, sending deep, pulsing pain through them, Killian had felt his friends' pain almost as much as his own. It had always hurt him to witness suffering or pain, and to see it inflicted on his closest friends was ten times worse. Tarun wiped angrily at his eyes, and Killian put an arm around the boy.

"Then ask your questions," said Demetrius, his voice unsteady.

The interrogation was surprisingly brief. Talpa asked them if those with newly-created armor could use the mind link, and Killian said that they could. This seemed to confirm something for Talpa, because he was pleased at the information. He asked what the armors' capabilities were, which puzzled Killian; he already was familiar with five of them—they'd once belonged to him--kind of. Still, they told him the basic abilities of the armor, such as Tarun's speed and Demetrius's strength, and Nohano's skill and power over fire and Suisei's ability to sense life forms. They mentioned Xan's shield and concealment powers and Killian said the Torrent armor let him breathe underwater and move as if on land. Those power he didn't know, such as Rashida and Amaya's, he said as much. Killian was very careful not to mention anything he didn't think Talpa already knew.

When Talpa asked where the original armors had been hidden, none of the prisoners could say; they had not the slightest clue. It wasn't even something Killian had thought about. Talpa asked them who had created the new armors, and where he might be found, and Killian lied and said he didn't know. He'd found his orb in the ocean, and Demetrius in the earth. Tarun lied and said he'd found his when exploring the woods near his home. Talpa asked them where the other Ronin were hiding, but none of them knew; the last they had seen of their friends had been right before they'd all been flung to the four corners of the world.

Talpa did not seem to disbelieve them at any point, and did not press the questions that were unanswered. Killian was relieved, though very surprised; he wasn't sure if Talpa had means of knowing if they were telling the truth or not. He should have known it wouldn't be so easy.

"So," said Talpa finally, slowly pacing in front of his throne. "You know so very little of your armor. How is it your friends have managed to defeat my warlords in battle?"

Fed up with the entire thing, Killian's answer was perhaps not wise, but it sure felt good to say. "I dunno, mate," he said. "Maybe your warlords can't fight."

Tarun giggled gleefully at the insult, and Demetrius grimaced, but the sounds of rage from behind them told Killian the warlords had not been amused in the slightest. Talpa turned on his heel to glare daggers at Killian, who found himself taking a step back despite his resolve. Talpa did not speak to them, only looked to his elder warlords. "You three; you will question them. Separate them; use whatever means necessary. But do not kill them. Understood?"

"What?" Tarun exclaimed, the grin wiped from his face. He shook his head, eyes wide, stepping back as Kale, Dais, and Sekhmet stepped forward. Killian suddenly knew the boy was about to do something rash. "No way—stay away from me! Armor of Daybreak!"

'Oh crap,' Killian thought as the Daybreak armor was summoned, and Talpa's warlords tensed, several raising their weapons. He darted forward to grab the boy, but there was nothing that could catch him when he was armored up. Tarun let a yell and hurled one of his whiz-bangs with his sling, narrowly missing Kale, who'd made a grab for the boy.

Things went downhill quickly from there. Three of the warlords ran forward to subdue Tarun, and Killian and Demetrius both summoned their armor. Petrified that he'd have to watch one of his friends die, Killian dove in front of a furious attack from Jin Tanaka's katana at Tarun's head, blocking the blade with his yari, the strange trident that was a part of his Torrent armor.

Ten against three were not good odds, even without Talpa's interference. But when he cast his dark energy, his painful lightning attack, they had no chance whatsoever. At the same time, several of the warlords cried out in Japanese, words that Killian did not understand.

The room suddenly went dark and cold, black lightning sparking across the entire chamber. Killian stopped for a moment, desperately willing his eyes to adjust to the dark, when something encircled his ankle. He gave a yell, hacking at whatever it was with his yari, casting sparks into the dark room. He heard a snarl from Demetrius and a yowl of unhappy indignation from Tarun. The thing around his ankle gave a sudden yank, and Killian was on his back, only just keeping hold of his weapon.

To his horror, more things encircled his body, criss-crossing over his armor and binding him flat to the floor. Chains, he realized numbly; they were chains! One of those bloody, miserable warlords had summoned chains! And something else covered him then, something that constricted around his body, squeezing his armor tightly to his muscles. He groaned as it tightened yet more, crushing into his ribs and around his head...

"Enough," hissed the voice of Talpa. "Kale."

No sooner was the name spoken than the dim, deathly blue light returned, no longer blotted out by Kale's magic. Killian looked desperately around, able to see his two friends had also been bound to the floor, and in considerable discomfort from the look on their faces.

Dais—the spider warlord—the webs! Demetrius gasped through the link.

He was right; the strands squeezing his armor were the webs of spiders, streaming from Kale's scythes. Killian winced briefly, expecting Talpa to retaliate for the use of the link, but either he hadn't noticed or didn't care. The demon looked down on the bound Ronin, exuding hatred, then looked up and nodded. Killian watched helplessly as Kale reached down and removed Tarun's helmet (Tarun protested loudly) and struck the boy on the head with the hilt of his sword. Tarun's body went limp and his eyes closed.

"You bastard!" spat Killian, wrenching his body, futilely trying to escape the chains and the web. He cried out as they tightened painfully, clenching his teeth as the sound of several quiet cracks. For a moment he could concentrate only on his predicament, scarcely breathing until the web loosened just a little. He turned his head to watch Demetrius being dragged out, still wrapped in chains, by Sekhmet and Heath, then looked up as Dais loomed over him.

The chains left, but the painful webbing remained tightly bound around his body, and Killian had the sudden, clear image of being a small insect, wrapped within the web of some malevolent spider, waiting to be devoured for supper. "The more you fight, the tighter the webs will be," the man said with considerable calm.

Killian stilled and found he was right; the pain lessened greatly. He glanced once around to see that most of the warlords remained in the chamber, waiting to be dismissed, or perhaps simply enjoying the show. Killian looked up, shaking and took in a deep breath and clenching his teeth at the deep pain it sent through his sides. 'Cracked,' he thought. 'Cracked ribs. Damn!'

"Nothing to say?" inquired Dais mildly.

"What the bloody hell is there to say?" Killian snarled. "You bloody cowards have the advantage. But I swear, anything you do to that kid I'll get you back for tenfold!"

Dais laughed, truly amused at Killian's threat, but Killian didn't care. He'd meant it with every fiber of his being, and he would find a way! "You amuse me, boy," said Dais, reaching down and severing the webs' connection with the stone floor. He grabbed Killian and tossed him roughly over his shoulder, and another spike of pain went through his torso. Killian spent several moments mentally swearing as he was carried, helpless, from the chamber.