“Welcome to the Spiral, Earthian,” Druck said.

  “This is ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous or not, it looks like it’s happening.”

  “What about the Birilli defenders? Their guards?”

  “It has to look convincing,” Quasar said. “Or the Royal Advisors get antsy.”

  “Like the Empress doesn’t know this goes on?”

  “How can she not?” Druck said. “This shit happens at least a few times a week. That’s how folks like me get rich.”

  “Are you rich, Emil?” Quasar asked.

  “Rich, dead, or thrown in prison,” he corrected.

  “None of that helps us right now,” Matt said. “We need to get back to Head Case.”

  “The question is how?” Quasar replied. “The spaceport will be cut off, and if PD isn’t going to intercede, I’m afraid they’ll be able to capture and hold it. We’re cut off too.”

  “Didn’t Alter say the bazaar has a path to the spaceport?” I asked. “The barges go directly to the tarmac.”

  “Mmm-hmmm,” Shaq buzzed excitedly.

  “That’s our move,” Matt said. “Assuming we make it back downtown alive.”

  Easier said than done. A dropship swooped in from overhead, guns blazing. Quasar fell on top of me, pushing me down and shielding me as the bolts smashed into the flatbed, splitting us down the middle. The power to the truck failed. The whole thing collapsed onto the stone, skidding along until friction brought it to a stop. The dropship shot past and slowed. Another unit of mercenaries jumped out ahead of us, weapons ready as they dropped toward the road ahead.

  Alter and Gramma’na had both been thrown from the truck when it hit the dirt. I barely got my eyes on them as they nearly matched one another, flipping over in the air and somehow landing cleanly, Gramma’na in a crazy superhero pose. Alter’s batons came to life in her hands, twirling rapidly and deflecting the incoming fire from the Niflin. Gramma’na brought her cane to bear, firing individual bolts through the enemy’s faceplates.

  Shaq sprung away from me, rushing to join them as the rest of us collected ourselves, getting back on our feet and regaining our bearings. We had made it to the edge of downtown, where the streets were rapidly clearing, the civilians retreating into their homes. Birilli’s security filled in some of the gaps, plasma bolts, ion blasts, and more conventional projectiles filling the air almost everywhere I turned.

  We rushed to catch up to Alter and Gramma’na, reaching them just as Shaq took down a mercenary trying to sneak around their flank. The Jagger hopped off his helmet as he collapsed, returning to my shoulder.

  “I haven’t had this much excitement in years,” Gramma’na said. “But I’d rather these assholes didn’t destroy my hometown.”

  “They’ll leave when we do,” Matt said. “They’re here for us.”

  “Then we ought to get you out of here,” she replied.

  “Our best path is through the bazaar,” I said.

  She made a face at that, clearly not wanting us to go that way. But what other choice did we have? “I think I smell what you’re cooking, kid. Fine. I’ll let you go that way.”

  “Thank you,” Matt said.

  “Follow me.”

  We trailed Gramma’na through the chaos, the fighting increasing in intensity as more security forces appeared on the scene and more Niflin mercenaries dropped from the sky. It quickly became hard to move through the gathering mess. The volume of blasts kept us seeking cover as the two sides forgot about us and focused on one another.

  Sedaya’s large dropship loomed overhead, stopping a few thousand feet above the city. Large, rectangular crates began to spill from the bottom, falling quickly toward the surface.

  “Mechs,” Druck explained, seeing the crates. “We’re running out of time.”

  “We have to go!” Matt shouted, ducking a little as a plasma bolt hit the stone wall we hid behind.

  Gramma’na looked back at him and waved us on. We broke cover, rushing across the street and following her down an alley. Mercenaries entered the other end of it just ahead of us, only to find themselves trapped in a killing crossfire between us and the security forces. We killed them quickly, sprinting through the narrow gap and reaching the west side of the city. A loud boom behind us drew my attention. One of the crates dropped its front panel, and a huge humanoid machine stepped out. It raised an arm and opened fire with a heavy cannon, blasting a building a few hundred feet away. The building exploded in a cloud of dust and debris that spread across the street, blocking it and cutting off the oncoming defensive forces.

  “Ben, move!” Quasar growled, snapping me out of my fascination with the destruction that could be wrought by only one mech. I joined her as we charged behind the others, making a break for the apartments embedded in the cliff face. A group of security guards were already positioned there, defending the entry. They recognized Gramma’na, and instead of shooting at us, they laid down cover fire for our approach.

  Another crate landed on the street a hundred feet away, drawing defensive fire before it even opened. The front panel fell away with a loud clang and a vibration that shook the ground beneath my feet, the mech stepping out and turning its cannon toward our escape route.

  Quasar turned and threw the explosive she had left at the mech. The grenade exploded with enough force to blow the thing’s foot entirely off and knock it off balance. Its round hit much higher on the cliff face, digging out rock that tumbled down on us. I saw a larger piece headed for Druck and shoved him from behind, knocking him out of the way just before it landed between us.

  “Close,” he said, looking back at the rock. Other chunks pelted our shoulders and heads, enough to hurt but too small to do lasting damage.

  Gramma’na led us into the apartments, motioning for us to stay silent inside. It seemed crazy to me that she wanted to keep up the ritual despite the cacophony unfolding outside, but I did my best to keep my mouth shut as I followed her and the others deeper into the excavated space.

  We were nearly to the door leading back down to the bazaar when the mercenaries made it past security and into the entrance at the opposite end. Gunfire lashed down the hallway at us, hitting me in the back, the first few shots absorbed by my coat. Shaq left my shoulder again, and as I turned to fight back I saw him spring from one wall to the next, and then onto the ceiling where he ran upside down toward our attackers. The enemy didn’t even notice him as they found cover in the doorways of the apartments, avoiding our responding fire.

  I opened my mouth to call Shaq back, only to have Alter’s hand close over it again, keeping me from saying anything. I wanted to scream at her, to explain why we had to be silent in the corridor, but couldn’t. She pulled me toward the door as Gramma’na opened it and entered the stairwell.

  Shaq reached the nearest mercenary, pushing off the ceiling and landing on the Niflin's arm. It was as if time came to a complete stop, the Niflin’s shout reverberating off the walls and echoing through the hallway. Immediately, the closed doors on either side of the passageway swung open. Monstrously large claws extended from the darkness, rough slashes cutting into the surprised mercenaries, the men screaming as they were cut mercilessly down.

  “Hurry,” Gramma’na whispered.

  I joined the retreat, afraid for Shaq as he leapt from his victim to the floor. The demonic creatures behind the doors poured into the hallway, hissing and growling as the Jagger scampered beneath their feet, trying to avoid their claws. He started toward us as Alter practically threw me into the stairwell.

  And slammed the door closed behind us.

  CHAPTER 34

  “What are you doing?” I screamed at her, turning back to the door. “Shaq is out there!”

  As Clown Alter, she didn’t speak. Instead, she grabbed me roughly and pulled me away from the door with more strength than I had ever guessed her to possess. When I tried to get past her to the door again, she shoved me back.

  “Alter, damn it, Shaq is out there. You cut off his escape. How could you do that to him?”

  She shook her head, her refusal to let me past reinforced when the door shook and dented inward. The creatures that were out there responded to noise, and I was making too much of it.

  And Shaq was already gone.

  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs in frustration and pain. I couldn’t. All I could do was descend the stairwell toward the bazaar, trailing Matt and the others with Alter taking up the rear. If the monsters on the other side did break through, maybe she could stop them. Or maybe they would rip her apart. At the moment, I would have been content with either one.

  We went down as fast as we could, the movement of my tired legs becoming robotic as we followed the steep, ancient stairs in its winding pattern. What had taken nearly ten minutes the first time, we did in five, and by the time I reached the bottom I could barely believe I was still on my feet. As if the thought had broken my concentration, a wave of dizziness overtook me as I went out the door and into the bazaar. I fell to my knees, nauseous and exhausted. By the time Alter helped me back up, she had changed back to her Enigma form.

  “How could you?” I whispered to her through tired, tearing eyes.

  “They would have killed us all,” she answered. “Do you think Shaq would have wanted that?”

  It made sense, but that didn’t make it any easier to take. I’d never lost a friend like this before. He had died in what had quickly escalated into an all-out war I still didn’t completely understand. A war Keep had dragged Matt and me into without our consent. We thought we were buying a starship. That was all. It was supposed to be exciting. Fun.

  It wasn’t fun anymore.

  Had it ever been, outside of fleeting moments?

  “Gramma’na’s having the bazaarmaster signal a barge,” Matt said, returning to us. We’re safe for the moment, but…” He trailed off as a loud crack of thunder rumbled overhead and the entire cavern shuddered. Dirt and debris loosened from the top of the cavern, spilling down onto our heads. “What the hell?”

  A second thunderous rumble shook the cave and more debris came down.

  “They’re shooting at the mountain,” Quasar said. “Hoping to collapse it in on us.”

  “You have to be kidding,” Matt said.

  “I wish I was.”

  “The barge is coming,” Gramma’na said, coming toward us. She cocked her head when she saw Alter. “Jasana’sa, where have you been?”

  “I was here the whole time, Gramma’na,” Alter replied.

  She looked confused, but didn’t argue. “Come, we’ll wait by the dock.”

  We headed for the dock. The other patrons and sellers in the bazaar were beginning to realize there was trouble as the cavern shook again. Customers started for the stairwell, only to have the guards stop them.

  “It isn’t safe up there right now,” the large, furry alien blocking the door said.

  “It doesn’t seem too safe down here, big guy,” one of the customers replied.

  “The reapers are active. We need to wait until they’ve calmed.”

  “Alter, have you seen Daft Punk?” I asked, remembering he had been down here with us.

  “Who?” she replied.

  “Sedaya’s Niflin mercenary. The asshole who threatened us before.”

  She looked around the cavern, shaking her head. “I don’t see any Niflin down here right now.”

  Joining her in observing the bazaar, I realized at least half of the individuals who had been down here when we left had vanished. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “The barge is coming,” Gramma’na shouted back at us. “Let’s get you out of…”

  She tailed off as the barge emerged from the darkness of the smaller cavern. Long and flat, able to carry a large volume of goods and individuals, it was already fully loaded with Sedaya’s forces. I think it was Daft Punk who stood at the bow, but the Niflin all looked similar with their opaque helmets and black body armor.

  They were bad enough. The two mechs loaded onboard, one in front of the other, were unquestionably overkill.

  The mercenaries opened fire from the edge of the cavern. Although the larger volume poured in our way, some plasma bolts sizzled indiscriminately across both sides of the river. The initial barrage caught Gramma’na flat-footed, and she vanished under the onslaught as the dock she stood on was vaporized by rifle fire.

  “Gramma’na!” Alter shouted, pulling her blaster and shooting back at the incoming enemy as everyone in the cavern scrambled to find cover, ducking behind stalls and tables as they turned whatever weapons they had toward the mercenaries. The only good news was that the bombardment had suddenly stopped. It occurred to me they had coordinated it not to bring down the cavern on us, but to distract us from the arrival of the mercenaries.

  As soon as our return fire became too intense, the foot soldiers moved behind the mechs, using their better armored legs as cover and shooting around them. The mechs joined the fight as well, raising their arms and unleashing hell from powerful cannons affixed to them. Detonations rocked the cavern, sending up gouts of stone as they blasted our defenses.

  “Should we swim for it?” I asked, ducking behind a table with the others.

  “It’s twelve kilometers from here to the spaceport,” Matt reminded me. “Do you think you can make it?”

  “I know we can’t make it here! We’re sitting ducks!” I yelled back, glancing at the others. “Where the hell did Druck go?”

  He was gone, and I didn’t remember seeing him enter the stairwell. Had he been left behind too?

  “He was here a minute ago,” Quasar said. Her eyes narrowed. “Move!” she shouted. “Incoming!”

  We all broke cover, diving away as one of the mechs hit our position with a blast from its ion cannon, sending up dirt and debris everywhere around us. The concussion knocked me onto my ass and my blaster out of my hand. I rolled to my hands and knees, finding my blaster and bringing it up in time to shoot the first mercenary I saw, the one aiming at me.

  The barge had reached our side of the river. The Niflin leaped off to land ashore, rushing our defenses. The mechs turned away from us as well to step off the barge.

  A shout from the other side of the river caught my attention. I saw Miklos rushing across the bridge nearest the barge, a strange looking, insectoid creature riding on the back of his hooded head. The alien threw something into the middle of the mercenaries, and a moment later the air seemed to vibrate around them. They clutched at their heads and collapsed.

  One of the mechs turned its cannon toward Miklos. He raised a gloved hand toward it, and I stared as the ion blast hit a shield that appeared in front of him. The ions sizzled and dissolved instead of reducing him to dust.

  Still running across the bridge, Miklos pulled a rifle and opened fire. Thick green bolts of energy tore into the mercenaries, reducing them to vapor with a single shot.

  The success spurred the other defenses into action, us included, and we pushed back against the mercenaries, forcing them to fall back to better cover.

  The mechs continued their assault, cannons hitting defensive positions and killing both guards and customers alike. We did our best to stay out of sight of the mechs and still take shots at them when we could, but just the two machines were enough to win the battle without help from the additional ground forces.

  We neared the river, finding cover behind a bulky piece of machinery a few feet from the edge. Standing to shoot at one of the mercenaries, when I looked past him all I saw was the dark hole of one of the mech’s ion cannons. Blue lightning formed deeper inside the tunnel, the weapon about to unleash on our position.

  “Oh shit,” I whispered. There was no time to warn the others. No time to find somewhere else to hide. The ions exploded from the weapon, lancing across the distance toward me.

  I didn’t even have a chance to blink before Miklos appeared in front of me, gloved hand in the air. The ion blast hit his shields, pushing him brutally back into the machinery between us. His glove sparked and smoked, and he shook his hand to remove it, letting it fall to the ground as he circled the machine, crouching beside me.

  “Bastards,” he cursed.

  “Bashterds,” the insectoid alien on his shoulder agreed in a high-pitched clatter.

  “Ben, come on!” Matt shouted.

  I looked up over the mech again. It hadn’t given up on us, its cannon prepared to fire a second shot that we wouldn’t be able to stop.

  A heavy, echoing roar drowned out every other noise in the cavern, a burst of orange-yellow appearing behind the mech and to the right. The muzzle flash came from three combined gun barrels on the torso of the battered Avenger. The rounds tore into the enemy mech’s outstretched arm, ripping it off at the elbow. The cannon fell to the ground with a large thunk that reverberated across the floor.

  “Yes!” I shouted, as Druck steered the Avenger away from the wall and toward the two mercenary mechs. Its single arm unleashed its own hell from its plasma cannon. The bolts smashed the back of the mech that had shot at us as the pilot desperately tried to bring the machine around to face the Avenger.

  “Ben!” Matt shouted again.

  I found him with the others, waiting near the center of the closest bridge. Using the sides as cover, he and Quasar fired down at the mercenaries from higher ground, keeping them pinned. I didn’t see Alter.

  “I need to get out of here,” Miklos said. “And your crew looks like it knows how to handle itself in a fight. I have your order in my coat. Free of charge for a ride off Furion.”

  “You don’t need to pay me to get out of here. I’ll bring anyone I can.”

  Miklos tilted his head like a confused dog. “Really?”

  “Really?” The alien on his shoulder mimicked, tilting its head as well.

  “Some things are more important than money. Like friends.” The words tasted sour in my mouth as my mind turned to Shaq. I still couldn’t believe he was gone, just like that. “Let’s go.”