Chapter 14

14.
         Tristian shifted his gaze over to the other end of the room, already feeling a chill running down his spine and knowing exactly what that meant. One of the guards at the end of the room with the double doors was clutching his chest. Something glowing was sticking out from it. All around the room life was moving in slow motion as all the other guards was brandishing their weapons and getting ready to run at their comrade. The air was filled with the clanging of metal on metal and the slithering of steel from leather sheathes. Tristian felt that he was starting to fall into a concerted tunnel of maddness.
         The glow vanished from the guard's chest and he toppled to the floor, slowly, still in slow time. The expression on his face was eternity, his chest sported the same hole as the first guard. How many guards around the castle were experiencing the same thing?
         Guards were now running at their fallen friend. Something was shifting in the darknesss. Something with eyes like embers. Yellow and evil.
         A crimson shield sprang up around the fallen guard suddenly, and all the other guards skidded to a halt before running into it. The shield cast a reddish light over all their faces, reflecting off their mirrored armor, giving them the look of an army watching the sunset on the last day.
         "Nobody move," Agent One said, still in his calm voice. Either he knew something Tristian didn't or he had gone completely mad. Tristian didn't know if he'd be able to tell. Johan was near him, looking pale but slowly regaining his composure. At some point he had put his shirt back on, and Tristian could see his eyes scanning around for a free weapon. He expected a fight and didn't want to stay out of it. Perhaps because he wanted to die, perhaps because he wanted to live. Tristian didn't know. Michelle was swaying on her feet, her eyes slightly unfocused, probably only half aware of what was going on around her. The strain of teleportation, Tristian figured, it wasn't easy for normal people to do, he was sure. But she did it without hesitation, when the need arose. That was good to know.
         She swayed again, almost swooning and Tristian had reached out to support her before he even knew what he was doing. She leaned against him easily, and then shook her head and stood on her own.
         "Be fine in a moment . . ." she muttered, her eyes trying to focus on the other end of the room. A figure was stepping from the shadows, it seemed, though between the darkness and the crimson flickering, he couldn't tell. The Agent was just standing there, not moving, his hands clasped behind his back.
         "You might as well come out now," Agent One was saying, "or I'll just force the shield tighter and you'll have to go back where you came from."
         "Which will accomplish nothing," came the voice and Tristian felt that chill down his back again. Only one thing could cause that, though he didn't know why. The Agent had never really explained it properly to him. "I can be sent back just as easily."
         "Oh, I know," Agent One replied with a smile, "but it'll take a small bit of time and I think rather fast. I'm sure I can come up with something even more creative to stop you when you poke your ugly face in here again."
         "Have to see through the red . . ." Michelle was saying to herself, though Tristian didn't know what she meant. Then she stiffened against him and her eyes went wide. "Oh my . . . it's black . . ."
         "What do you mean?" he asked her, even though he knew that she was only seeing what he saw in his worst nightmares.
         She stared at him with eyes filled with fear. "It's totally black, not even a void, just . . . black . . . I've never seen anything like . . ." and then she looked back at the other end of the room and gasped.
         For it had come out of the shadows.
         It still looked the same as always. About six foot tall, dressed in armor that fit its slim form perfectly. What dwelt beneath the armor, he had no idea. The face was angular and he suspected it was part of the armor as well. The eyes were yellow slits, glowing and burning. He had never seen a mouth. One hand was normal, while the other was a two pronged fork like construct. A sheath rested on its belt, while a cape as black as night wrapped the entire figure. It moved out with sublime grace, pacing around the body of the dead guard, pacing around its cage like an animal just biding its time until it was released.
         "Dark Rider," he felt himself mouth the two words he hated to hear. The eyes scanned the room and seemed to find him, pin him and blink in recognition. It inclined its head, slightly, in a gesture meant only for Tristian.
         "Not just any Dark Rider," Agent One said in a too cheerful voice, "but the grand ol' Dark Lord himself." Agent One gave a mocking bow, but when he stood up fully his face was serious. "Why can't you just enter through the door like any respectable visitor?" Then he slapped his forehead in another mocking gesture. "Oh wait that's because you're anything but."
         The Dark Lord stared at the Agent impassively. His hands were at his sides, and he appeared to be completely docile. The shield crackled around him, blinking and flickering, almost daring him to try and step through it.
         "We have your brethren, Magent," and Tristian noticed that the Dark Lord called him by the other name. "You shall be next."
         "No," Tristian whispered, realizing what that meant. If the Dark Riders had Agent Two then that meant he was in the hands of only one being.
         Agent One smiled again, baring his teeth. "Come and get me."
         The king suddenly seemed to remember that he was techincally in charge and decided to exert some authority. "Magent, what is going on here? What is this creature that you've trapped? We demand some answers."
         "Answers," Agent One said plainly, turning to face the king. "Very well then, what we have here is the leader of a race known collectively as the Dark Riders. Being the leader, he's commonly known as the Dark Lord. Currently the Dark Riders have my brother, a fact I imagine they figure is supposed to scare me, which it doesn't."
         "I have heard his screaming, Magent, all the way from the dark castle itself. He screams loud and long, not even stopping to draw a breath. The only thing louder is my master's laughter, Magent, and he'll laugh twice as hard when he-"
         "Shut up," Agent One whispered and the shield flickered and flashed. There was the smell of something burning in the air and the Dark Lord gave a strangled yell and staggered back. Smoke was rising from his body and leaking through the shield. The other guards all took a collective step back.
         "Which brings me to another good point. I'm sure your master is around somewhere and even though he doesn't care about you at all, if I start hurting you he'll show up just to save face and pretend that he cares. Makes sense to you?"
         The Dark Lord only glared at the Agent. "I am nothing to my master but your brother is everything to you. Holding me gets you nothing."
         The shield flashed again and the Dark Lord bit off a scream. "Who said anything about holding you?" Agent One replied coldly. "I believe my word of choice was hurt. And I can do that, Dark Lord." The shield flashed again, longer, making everyone look away. This time the Dark Lord did scream. "You think that I've been oblivious about everything that's been happening," another flash, another scream, "but I can feel my brother from here, and I know everything that's been done to him," the shield didn't so much as flash as blaze now, "and I can replicate every single damn thing that your master did to him. Do you think you can handle it, Dark Lord?"
         The Dark Lord was up against the wall now, his eyes hard and unyielding but his body bent in pain. "You can't stop us, Magent, we are the shadows that your light doesn't touch-" and his voice vanished in another scream and he nearly fell to the ground.
         "If I had wanted the company line I would have just read the free pamphlets," Agent One intoned. His voice was ice and stone. "What I want is your master, Dark Lord. You're nothing to me, nothing at all."
         "You'll never-" and then the shield never buckled on itself as it burned and the Dark Lord fell to his knees and hands, shaking in pain.
         "Get him here," Agent One nearly snarled, saying each word clearly and distinctly. Tristian had never seen him so angry.
         And then the Dark Lord vanished.
         "Where did he go?" the king asked, his voice nearly panicked. "If you have brought demons into this place, Magent . . ."
         "Oh no, I think it might be quite worse than that-mmph!" Agent One said softly right as two hands came out of the floor and grabbed him by his face, nearly bending him double.
         "On the contrary," a voice that dripped darkness said from seemingly everywhere, "the esteemed Magent has brought something far worse than demons into this place" and a figure that towered nearly ten feet rose out of the floor, out of the darkness itself. While the Dark Lord seemed to reflect evil, this being was evil itself. It appeared to be a larger Dark Rider, but the eyes were boiling red this time and both hands were indeed hands.
         "No!" Tristian screamed, running forward, knowing that the being would recognize him and might pause for a second. Again he wished his laser sword had made the trip, he would have felt much safer if it was in his hand. As much as he hated the damn thing, he had to admit it came in handy sometimes.
         But before he reached the being there was another red flash and the black being staggered back just as the Agent seemed to dissolve into a crimson mist, reforming nearby, standing between the king and the queen. He was rubbing his neck but otherwise seemed none the worse for wear.
         He looked up at the being. "You were expecting a dispersed blast, I'm sure, not all my energy channeled to one point. From what I hear, it hurts a bit more. What do you say, Shadow?"
         The Shadow glared down at the Agent but otherwise didn't seem concerned. Tristian felt alarm bells going off in his head and he saw that everyone else in the room looked as if their closest relative had gone and died in front of them. Michelle was doing her best not to look at the Shadow, while Johan seemed to be unable to tear his gaze away.
         "I say it means little, Magent. You cannot hurt me, no matter how much you try." The eyes flickered with amusement. "Your brother learned that lesson the hard way, I'm afraid."
         "I know he's fine, I can feel him, Shadow," Agent One said and his voice was terrible. "But if you don't give him back and withdraw, then I'll kill every Dark Rider I can find, faster than you can reform them. I'll raze your home and destroy everything."
         "You'll do nothing that I cannot undo," the Shadow replied simply. "You posture and gesture with empty actions but they have little meaning, even though you try to pretend that in the end they have some semblance of substance." The eyes blazed like fire. "I will have this land, Magent, starting with here and ending with every village, until there is nothing left but darkness. And then my plans are just beginning."
         "I can't fault you for ambition," Agent One told him, "but you know I'll stop you. I'll fight you every bloody step of the way."
         "Your brother thought so as well. He found out otherwise."
         "And he fights you still," Agent One shot back.
         "Really?" the Shadow asked in mock surprise. His cape was swirling around him like something living. Tristian stared at the Shadow and felt the room being corrupted around him, the stench of something cold and dead, the very air falling to pieces. "He did not seem that way when I last saw him." The cape billowed out and touched the floor and the Shadow grabbed hold of one end and pulled it closer to himself. "But I shall let you judge for yourself."
         And then Agent Two fell right out of his cloak.
         He looked shattered, a puppet without any strings. Limply and loosely he hit the floor, bouncing, his hands were curled into claws grasping at invisible objects, his face contorting in an expression of pain, pure pain, fighting against the darkness and losing inch by inch. His robes were in tatters, his body streaked with blood that could have been his, might not have been.
         There was dead silence in the room, marked and broken only by Agent Two's labored and strained breathing, his hoarse shouts for help that never came.
         Agent One looked down at his brother, closed his eyes briefly and bowed his head. When he looked back up at the Shadow his hands were glowing and his face was blank. But his eyes held no mercy. Tension crackled in the air during the silence.
         "You think you're immune to the suffering you cause," Agent One stated in a deadly whisper and every person heard those soft words. "But you'll know otherwise, Shadow. I swear to it."
         "Do not make oaths that you'll never fulfill," the Shadow replied quite calmly. "Even now my armies are everywhere, guided by my servants, guided and goaded into my bidding." The Shadow held up a clenched fist. "Everything will die, here, Magent. Everything."
         "But why? What's the point?" Tristian yelled at the Shadow, coming over and standing near the Agent, near the prone and disabled form of the other Agent.
         "Why?" the Shadow asked, bringing his terrible gaze down to Tristian. Tristian stared up at the eyes of purest evil and did his best not to blink. His heart pounding, he didn't falter. "Little man, this place is the key. The key to everything."
         Then he turned and stared around, finally letting his gaze fall back to the Agent. "I will leave you both with that. Farewell, Tristian, I don't expect you to survive the fall."
         And then he was gone.
         And everyone started shouting and running, half in fear, half in panic.
         "Fall?" Tristian whispered, whirling on the Agent. "What did he mean by that, what did he mean-"
         The castle shuddered suddenly and bucked and seemed to tilt and twirl. Everyone was thrown to the floor as the entire structure groaned around them. Tristian thought he heard whistling. Like a large object falling. But he felt nothing.
         "Oh dear," Agent One said, still on his feet. "That can't be good. That can't be good at all."