Southwest Truths (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 3) by Kal Aaron (the red fox clan .txt) 📗

at any time. She had no idea who to trust. “What the hell is going on? Who should I be killing?”

“There isn’t time,” Samuel said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what the plan is, but I know the ritual needs to be stopped. Nektarios is the traitor.”

“That is absurd,” shouted Nektarios. “I’m a member of the Tribunal. He’s the traitor, and he’s come to take the emptiness spirit for himself. He admits to faking his death and attacking the Heart of Remnant.”

“Pretty badass move,” Lyssa said.

“Why would I wait this long?” Samuel asked. “I’ve known about Jofi from the beginning.”

Tristan walked toward Samuel. A wispy ghost blade formed in his hand, and he held it to Samuel’s neck. “You might have been waiting for an excuse to blame Corti. You’re placed highly enough that you could have manipulated events to your liking.”

Lyssa eyed the downed servant, trying to figure out how he fit into things. He must work for Samuel.

“We need to continue the ritual,” Nektarios shouted. “There’s no time to waste. The seal’s been broken, but the spirit has not been unbound from the girl or the regalia. We still have a small chance for this to work.”

“Miss Corti,” Samuel said, “I let my trust in the Tribunal blind me to what was going on. I’ve continued to investigate things all this while. Your recent revelations before your trip allowed certain pieces of information to make sense. It led me to question Elder Nektarios right before your departure, so I followed you here.”

“You smuggled yourself to Last Remnant?” Lyssa asked. “That’s even more badass than what you just did.”

“Enough of this nonsense!” Nektarios screamed. “Do you not hear the monster around us?”

The smoke had grown less dense, but Jofi wasn’t making an animal noise. What came out was a mix of eerie, distorted sounds that didn’t resemble anything in the natural world.

Samuel narrowed his eyes. “Reverse the ritual. You said yourself Jofi isn’t yet unbound from Lyssa. It’s not too late.”

Tristan lowered his blade and turned to Nektarios. “Perhaps it’s best you do that until we can sort the truth out.”

“No, no, no. I won’t be denied.” A dark wave of energy shot from Nektarios, knocking the Sorcerers near him down.

Lyssa gritted her teeth, expecting pain, but the power passed around her. Tristan grunted as the energy wrapped around an invisible shield in front of him and the pinned Samuel. The spell holding the Elder dissipated and he dropped to the floor, then pointed at Nektarios again.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but this will stop,” Samuel said. “You will answer for your crimes against the Society. I no longer trust you have our best interests at heart. Please stand down.”

“You dare question me, Samuel?” Nektarios narrowed his eyes.

“I question what I’ve learned, and that includes you.”

“I’ll have you executed, but we need to pull the spirit out of the girl before it’s too late.”

Samuel shook his head. “Doubtful.”

“Enough of this.” Nektarios’ eyes turned solid white. “I won’t be stopped by the likes of you.”

Samuel flew backward and slammed into the wall again. This time he coughed up blood. He grimaced and pitched forward, groaning.

Nektarios nodded at Tristan, then inclined his head at Samuel. “Kill the traitor.”

Tristan said, “Something is gravely wrong here. I’ve been following the spell as best I can, and it does seem you’re severing the link, but I sense something else, something more.”

“What’s wrong is that we’re losing control of this ritual!” Nektarios shouted. “Samuel attacked the Heart of Last Remnant, came to attack me and capture this spirit for his purposes.”

“A light Sorcerer is going to control a grand emptiness spirit without others helping seal it?” Tristan snorted. “Unlikely.”

“Am I surrounded by traitors? Will you fools not do what I say?” As he continued speaking, his voice grew warped and warbled, sounding less human with each word. “The Society must be protected from those who would undermine it.”

“No.” Tristan charged Nektarios. The Elder glared at him. Tristan grunted at an invisible blow and staggered back. The Eclipse rushed at the Elder again, closing the distance and stabbing Nektarios in the chest with his ghostly blade.

The Elder backhanded him with a loud crack. Tristan soared through the air before hitting the wall and falling to one knee. His weapon vanished.

Nektarios raised his hand. Tristan’s head jerked to the side as if he had been struck, and he doubled over, clutching his chest. Two more invisible blows ended with loud crunches, and the Eclipse groaned in pain.

“I will kill all of you,” Nektarios said. His voice had lost any semblance of being human.

Lyssa reached into her pockets, pulled out two penetrator magazines, and ran for her guns. An invisible blow smashed into her chest and flung her so hard into the wall she chipped it. She slid to the floor, her back in agony.

Nektarios grabbed one of the downed Sorcerers near him and lifted him by the throat. The man’s skin cracked and shrank, and his hair turned white and fell out. He became a dried husk in seconds. The Elder tossed the discarded body to the floor. It disintegrated into dust, leaving only the regalia.

“What are you doing?” Lyssa yelled. She grimaced and sat up.

Jofi fell silent. She didn’t know what that meant, but it couldn’t be good.

Tristan managed to lift his head. “There was too much spiritual interference for me to manage much because of the ritual.” He coughed up blood. “But when I wounded him, I felt something, almost like a spirit but not. Something inside him.”

Another invisible strike knocked his head to the side. His eyes rolled back, and he fell unconscious.

“I’ll drink you soon enough, Eclipse.” Nektarios picked up the two other Sorcerers and sucked the life out of them before tossing their desiccated corpses to the floor. His skin split, blood running from the open wounds as a putrid, oozing leathery material grew from them to cover the rest of his body. More arms grew from his back