Storm of Shadows (Lumineers 1)

CHAPTER 37: A CHOICE OF DEATH

Tabby found Hubert Maltby sitting in a chair across the room, staring directly at her, a wicked grin on his features. Like he'd been expecting her. Because he had.

Her hands were ready. She pulled violet light and sent it straight for him, attempting to knock him back, to distract him, as she gained better ground. He countered with violet light of his own, nullifying it.

"Quite the ruckus going on out there," he said, voice calm, eyes tracking, lingering over her mask. "I didn't hear it until you opened the door. But now..." She heard it, too. Which meant the blanket of green had finally depleted. And that meant the whole palace could hear it too. "Come to kill me, I suspect?"

She drew a dagger. "Why don't you get out of that chair and find out." Her fingers remained at the ready, to pull light when and if needed.

Without blinking, he stood. She lunged for him, but he shot across the room, keeping her at a safe distance. She would have asked for confirmation, asked for proof that he was truly Ghost, except that anyone who moved like him had to be. Besides, his use of violet light had been the confirmation she needed. Yet...something felt off about his body, his stature. He was much older than she thought Ghost would be. Even if his hair was the same color. Hair dye, she realized. Anyone of his age would already be fully grey. She expected Ghost to be vain, but never realized he'd be so vain as to feel the need.

They circled the living area. Her eyes didn't leave his grizzled face. If she had to guess, he was in his late fifties or early sixties. Yet, he was lithe as a cat. "Your Council members are all dead," she said, stalling, taunting. "We killed Flint last night. And Sin, the day before that. "

"Well done. I admit, I'm impressed."

She threw her dager and he dodged it. So she drew a prism dagger this time, keeping it at the ready. They continued to circle. Outside, she heard a crash. More riflefire. Midnight and Steiner could take care of themselves. Ghost was her target—always had been. That was the deal, after all. She killed Ghost and in return, earned her father's name.

"Why are you doing this?" Ghost asked, as if reading her mind. "I find myself intrigued that you hate the Spectrum enough to go to all this trouble. The wealth you've amassed from your kills is more than most nobility possess in a lifetime."

"It isn't about the wealth."

"No?"

"I want to seize power for myself," she lied.

He snorted, still circling, eyes roving over her. "You don't seem like the power hungry type, Tempest."

"Fine. Freeing the world from your tyranny. Tipping the balance. Helping future children avoid a fate worse than death, blah, blah, blah, all that bullshit."

"Ah. That sounds a little more realistic. So you've chosen a side then. Admirable."

"Better than staying neutral. Neutrality only helps the oppressor. The tormentor. People like you." She fired off another stream of violet light to distract him. He countered, nullifying it.

At the same moment, her arm flicked, sending her red prism dagger flying. The hilt flared into life. He jumped to the side but the dagger followed his movements. His eyes widened just as it sank into his chest. He stumbled back. To protect himself, his hands began flying faster than she thought possible, fingers twitching, wrists flicking. Jets of different colored light, violet, indigo, blue, then red and yellow, and orange, all started ricocheting off the walls headed directly towards her. Like billiard balls striking at different angles, all with the intent of sending a single ball into its assigned pocket. It was a cocktail of color powerful enough to send her slamming against the wall. She ignored it and sent another red prism dagger flying. Ghost swore. Not at the second dagger that hit him square in the shoulder, but at the light as it disappeared, consumed by her black prism. "Oh. Right," she added, pulling it free of her maid uniform, smiling. "Bet you didn't see that coming." She removed the last dagger from her gown, having given the others to Midnight and Steiner, and bounded forward.