Chapter One-Hundred Forty-Four

The string of runes shot forward, blazing electric blue. Syaoran lifted his sword to block, infusing the blade with his magic so it wouldn't shatter when the spell hit. Even so, as it struck, the string of runes dissolved into a plume of fire that had him staggering backward, one arm thrown over his face to protect his eyes. The smell of burnt flesh made his eyes water, but it took him a moment to feel the pain. But when it hit, it hit all at once, red agony slithering from his fingertips to his forearms. Blisters began to form almost instantly, and the parts of his hands that weren't blistering turned an angry crimson.

He gasped, nearly dropping his sword as he plunged his arms into the still-hot water of the reservoir. The resulting wave of pain made his vision go gray, and he jerked his hands out of the water with an agonized cry.

The Other pressed forward, implacable, wading through the pool. Heart pounding, Syaoran staggered backward, almost tripping as the bottom of the reservoir became about a foot deeper without any warning. Have to get away. Have to get help. His eyes flashed to his companions, but both Fai and Kurogane had focused in on their fights, battling clusters of Fei-Wang's faceless drones as more and more pressed in from the sides. Even if he shouted, even if both Fai and Kurogane broke off from their individual battles to come to his aid, even if they somehow managed to clear a path through their enemies, they would not make it in time.

A few feet away, the Other began drawing more runes.

Have to get away. His legs pushed through the water. Maybe . . . Maybe he could escape. Maybe he could survive.

The water around his legs thickened to the consistency of jelly. At first, he blamed his exhaustion. Then he felt the tingle of magic, and the water became almost solid, like nearly-dry mud. Gasping, he stuck his sword point-down in the substance, using it to drag himself forward. It did little good. Knee-deep in the water, he couldn't free his legs. I'm going to die, he thought, looking across the reservoir, at Kurogane.

The ninja hadn't seen him yet. A mercy, Syaoran thought, tears filming his eyes. He blinked them away, watching Kurogane cut down hoards of masked men. They disappeared like mirages as they fell, but they clearly had physical presence, based on the way Kurogane's techniques threw them back. With the grace and power of a lion, he twisted through the throng, flashes of light exploding from his sword to topple dozens of enemies at once. Distantly, Syaoran wondered if he knew his techniques were based in magic, not just swordsmanship.

He'll survive this, he thought, throat tightening as the water stirred near him. Even if I won't.

He could accept that. If Kurogane lived and he didn't. After all, what had he done except make wishes and mistakes and bad decisions? What had he done except enable Fei-Wang's plans? Kurogane had defied their enemy from the start, before he'd known anything of his plans. Kurogane had never made a wish that had hurt the few people he'd cared for. It was right that he should live on after this, if any of them would. The very least Syaoran could do was go quietly, so the ninja wouldn't know until after the battle how he had died.

I should have spent more time with him, he thought. It was his only regret.

The Other loomed over him now, his face impassive, the tip of his sword dipping into the water. Syaoran looked up, sucking in a sharp breath as his clone's foot connected with his chest. He heard the crack of bones and wondered how many ribs that kick had broken. At the back of his throat, he tasted blood. Before he could recover enough to take a breath, the Other's magic whipped out, throwing him against the wall. The impact sent a cold shock of pain through his body, and when he slid down to the floor, he slumped, spitting up blood.

The Other kept walking, advancing inexorably toward him. Syaoran doubted he could have moved even if he'd wanted to fight back. It's over, he thought, leaning against the wall. I can't beat him. I couldn't beat him in Nihon, and he's even stronger now. He inhaled—the tiny movement made his vision go spotty with pain—and lifted his head with quiet dignity. He'd maintained his grip on his sword, despite everything, and he raised it feebly, his burnt hands shaking. The Other swung Hien, catching the sword's guard and ripping it from Syaoran's fingers. Just as fast, his leg shot out, striking Syaoran in the ribs and knocking him onto the ground, ears ringing. It will be over soon.

With the toe of his shoe, the Other rolled Syaoran onto his back. "I will do what must be done," he said, his eyes glacial as he pressed his heel against Syaoran's ribs and positioned his sword over his heart.

Syaoran closed his eyes.

The blade came down.

"Come on, then," Kurogane growled, raising his sword as more of the faceless warriors poured into the room through rips in the dimensional sea. "Who wants to die first?"

"Feeling a little bloodthirsty, Kuro-tan?" the mage asked. From the corner of his eye, Kurogane saw the man twist through a cluster of drones, ripping them apart with claws almost as sharp as Ginryuu's blade.

"Heh." Kurogane grinned. "These guys are hardly a challenge one-on-one. I like it better when they come at me all at once."

"So it would appear," Fai said dryly, hacking off one of the drones' arms before decapitating him.

More soldiers rushed forward to fill the gap, and Kurogane raised his sword, bringing it around in a deadly arc that sent a wave of light at the center of the cluster. It vaporized half of them and knocked back the others, but before he could finish them off, he sensed another group coming in behind him. He grunted, twisting his body and shifting the position of his sword so it arced upward. Spirals of light erupted from the blade, cleaving through the drones like men made of straw.

"At least shout out what technique you're using, Kuro-sama!" Fai called over the din.

"It's too much of a pain."

"But it's more fun that way!"

The battle raged on, more drones pouring in to replace their fallen copies. Kurogane cut through each without mercy, without thought. Tomoyo may have forbidden him from needless slaughter, but that didn't mean he'd forgotten how to kill. Every blow landed, and after a time, he no longer registered the resistance of his enemies' flesh or the fact that every fallen warrior disappeared when they died, as if made from smoke rather than flesh and blood. It didn't matter; Fei-Wang had to run out of soldiers eventually, and considering how easily each of these faceless drones fell, Kurogane could cut through an entire army if he had to.

The mage was faring just as well, clawing and kicking and punching, all while making every movement look like a step in a dance. For all the vampire's faults, Kurogane had to give him credit—he knew how to fight. Screw one army, Kurogane thought. The two of us could cut down an entire country full of these guys if we had to.

As he spun to behead another faceless man, a flash of blue light drew his eye to the other side of the reservoir. As the resulting shock wave shook the ruins, Kurogane jerked his attention away from his own battle, scanning the room for the kid. Where did he go?

His distraction nearly cost him his neck as a drone slashed at his throat with a serrated blade, but Kurogane ducked out of the way, cutting the man in half almost casually as he tried to see through the throng. With a growl of annoyance, he let loose another of his sword techniques, producing a wall of white fire that mowed down a good half of the soldiers between him and the kid. As the crowd cleared, he caught a glimpse of Syaoran pulling himself out of the water, mouth moving as he shouted at his clone. Kurogane couldn't catch a word of it over the noise, but from the look of it, the boy's words had no effect. As the clone sent several strings of runes toward him, Syaoran retaliated with his lightning attack, and the ruins shook all around them.

The kid can handle himself, Kurogane thought, clearing away another swath of soldiers, losing himself in the chaos of the battle, in his own blood lust. If he'd been fighting against real people, all the water in the reservoir would've turned red by now, but since they didn't bleed, the evidence of their deaths vanished as their bodies did. Damn it. They just keep coming. It's like we're not making any progress at all. Frustrated, he swung his sword, cleaving through two drones at once, hissing as they disappeared. He struggled to recapture the murderous glee he'd felt moments ago, but now it evaded him, and the sense of catharsis he'd gained by disposing of the drones began to wane in the face of how pointless it was to fight them when they just kept coming.

"How many of these things does he have?" he demanded.

"They're magical constructs, Kuro-pyon. I'd imagine he has a lot of them."

Another explosion rocked the reservoir, toppling several smaller fountains and leaving cracks in the walls. A wave of hot air rolled across the surface of the water, and he glanced over to see the kid's magic being overwhelmed by his clones. Ah, shit, he thought, diverting his attention away from the newest group of soldiers and cutting a path through the others as he tried to position himself closer to the kid. He'd wanted to let the boy face his that fight on his own, but he wouldn't let him put his life in jeopardy if his clone's magic outstripped his. And of course it did. Kurogane had seen evidence of that when the two had fought in Nihon. Damn it, why didn't I think of that? I shouldn't have left him alone.

The boy stood near the edge of the room, swaying on his feet. His clone shot several javelins of magic at him, knocking him back so he slammed into the wall. "Kid!" Kurogane shouted, his voice lost to the noise, the chaos. More soldiers arrived to block his path, and he cut through them ruthlessly, slogging through water as thick as syrup. Gods, I hate magic, he thought, watching the kid collapse against the wall, hands blistered, blood leaking from a dozen small lacerations. "Kid! Hold on!"

The clone walked toward the boy, every step deliberate, even arrogant. Kurogane let out a snarl, hacking away at the faceless hoards of soldiers. More arrived through rifts in the air. "Damn it all."

Across the reservoir, the clone reached Syaoran, kicking him hard in the ribs even as he ripped the sword out of the boy's hands with his own blade. No, Kurogane thought, no longer bothering to strike out at the drones as he ran through the water. No.

The clone slammed the heel of his foot against the boy's chest, and for an instant, Kurogane imagined he could hear a hiss as all the air rushed out of the kid's lungs. "No!" Ginryuu swung wildly in his hands as the drones pressed in on every side. "Outta my way!" he snarled as the clone pressed the tip of his sword to Syaoran's chest. Kurogane breached the cluster of soldiers, the room finally opening up around him. But by then, he was too late. The sword came down, splattering blood against the pale white walls. A howl of fury exploded from Kurogane's throat, made ragged by anguish, grief.

The kid's body jerked once and then went still.