Seeker: Demon Killers [Fantasy/Action | Complete]

Chapter 63: A Clash of Swords

The place looked more and more like a level from one of Carlos's games, Cara Loft, a treasure hunter who must avoid hidden traps and weapons to secure her goal to pass to the next level – except a crazy rhino had rampaged in it just moments before. Electrified walls lay in crumbs and steel doors lay smashed open. A few smouldering Sentinel corpses decorated the path, caught by the not-so-fail-safe human defence systems.

Tora had forgotten how far she'd descended underground by this point. The air still smelt faintly of Markl. The noisy fight of Ross against the lesser Sentinels had disappeared long ago. She made her way down the hundredth metal steps, her ears turned for the sound of movements.

Irritation built up. Markl couldn't possibly be moving so fast. Yet every door she passed was blasted open, every last-resort security system smashed to smithereens.

Her pulse thumped in her ears. Her mouth was dry.

Almost on cue, hushed voices reached her ears. She froze.

The muffled words came again. She couldn't make out the words. She raced the open door at the end of the corridor. It opened to a metal bridge overlooking about fifty metres below with other bridges criss-crossing below.

Tora gripped the metal rail handles and peered down. Its depth would have made any normal person dizzy. The weak lights at the very bottom flickered constantly, swallowed in darkness.

From one of the bottom bridges emerged Markl.

Tora's breath caught in her throat. He hadn't changed one bit: the same floppy brown hair and serious dark eyes, clad in his typical hooded sweatshirt and jeans. She'd almost expected him to walk around like the other Sentinels flanking him. She could have fooled herself into thinking this scene was nothing out of the ordinary. Her hands tightened over the handles.

The three far below stopped. Markl looked up.

Tora snapped backwards, her blood turning to ice. Had he seen her?

They moved again after a while, their feet clanging on the bridge. She eased out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

When she was convinced she was out of earshot, she stood up and peered over the edge again. She narrowed her eyes. She could make it – and it would be much quicker than running through this stupid place.

She swung herself over – and let go.

The sickening sensation of freefall danced in her stomach. Her dark fringe lifted off her forehead. Wind glided coolly over her sweaty skin. The bridges whizzed past, dim lights mounted on the rails passing like fireflies.

She threw out her arm as her stop approached. A forcefield shimmered in mid air, catching her with a light thump and then shrank. She grabbed the rails and hopped over it, landing on running feet.

The crashes of metal exploding and walls caving in grew louder. The smoking remnants of caved in doors and cracked walls were fresh. Lights hung askew, flickering. Tora slowed the chase. It would be troublesome to take on three Sentinels at once. God knows what Lyre weapons they had.

She stopped. The sweat made her t-shirt stick to her all over. Blood drummed in her ears. The path opened up to a large, three-storey hall, like the entrance to a boss battle. Corridors ran along the sides overlooking it.

Markl stood with his back to her at the far end, his hand clutched around the doorknob of the imposing double doors. His two lackeys were nowhere to be seen.

Tora's throat went tight. It had been a long time since she'd seen her 'friend'. So much had changed. So many bridges burned. His curly dark brown hair stuck up at odd angles as it had always done. His shoulders were hunched, his neck muscles tensed: the results of many nights spent pouring over files and books.