And he did.
“What is-?”
Flash.
I was ready for it this time, and so I saw the spell in action. As the others fought to regain their sight, I saw faint tentacles of smoke rise from the stone, then coalesce and take shape. It was easy to recognize the figure. An exact duplicate sat not ten feet beyond, staring in rapt fascination without a hint of fear in her eyes.
Elena.
This golem, crude and without any real power, scared the hell out of Maxim and Niki. And I could see why. For the golem had captured something more than just her animal attractiveness or brazen confidence. It showed a hint of her power. I could see that in Maxim’s face, wide-eyed in shock and deference.
But he quickly saw through the gambit and came to his feet, snarling. Ignoring the spectre before him, he slammed the crystal pyramid down on the fearstone, shattering both into dust-like fragments.
I think in that moment I saw the true Maxim Legenko. A sinewy rage of fiery eyes and meat-tearing teeth.
Last time I thought there had been something going on. This time I knew for sure. A beam of energy, almost like a tight jet of water from a fire hose, leapt from a ring on his hand and arced across the room towards me. It was just like with Crazy Lady, a stream of particles which expanded as they approached me, pointillist in form, with the same distinct pebbles of black and yellow shimmering in the air. And again, the beam didn’t get to me. About twelve inches from my chest it just stopped. It didn’t deflect and race off in another direction. Didn’t explode on impact. It just reached a point a few inches away from me and stopped.
He stood, trembling, the beam of energy continuing to stream from his fingertips for a moment, then fizzling out.
“You done yet?”
Apparently not. He tried again. Red flames shot from the ring and scorched the table top in their race across the room. This time I didn’t flinch — I leapt out of the way. My finely honed cowardice had taken charge.
The heat swept past me, roaring out of my peripheral vision and slamming into the door and wall behind me. As I turned, I saw the door explode out of its frame, spinning into the office space beyond and clipping a monitor on the way. Tongues of flame danced along the wall, as patches of old wallpaper began to smolder, then ignite.
That little display seemed to get everyone’s attention, including Niki’s since the right shoulder of his jacket was on fire. He was slapping wildly at the flames while I righted my chair. And Elena seemed as angry at her husband as she was at me, perhaps more so.
“Figure it out. Your magic tricks aren’t going to work on me. But you keep messing with us, and I’m going to bring a heap of shit down on your head.”
I think that time I got through to him. He was still staring lasers at me, but his breathing seemed to slow, and I could see intelligence returning to his eyes, replacing the untempered rage. In fact, at that moment, inching toward the door and seeing the faces of Elena and her husband, I was convinced I was going to be leaving with my hide intact.
Unfortunately I had managed to overlook one very large, very pissed off and now smoldering Russian mobster. Niki came off the wall as though I had waved a red flag in front of him. I could imagine steam erupting from his nostrils. I was just able to turn my body and take the impact on my shoulder, but that did nothing to slow his momentum.
I flew backwards a good six feet, and would have gone farther had it not been for College Boy’s cubicle. Instead of continuing to sail through the air I slammed into the fabric panel that served as a partition, sending it toppling over onto College Boy’s desk. From the crunching sounds behind me, I presumed a keyboard or laptop had just bitten the dust.
“Jesus.” I tried to roll off the panel quickly, but Niki was there again, this time grabbing my shirt and throwing me like a bale of hay. I hurled over the adjoining cubicle wall, narrowly missing another assistant, and landing ribs first on an open file drawer. That hurt. Big time.
I was gasping for air, still slumped over the drawer, when Niki rounded the cubicle wall and grabbed my shirt collar and the back of my belt. Fortunately I had just enough of my wits about me to bring up the bat. I swung as hard as I could, and the bat exploded on impact, sharp pieces of wood spraying around us. Niki grunted, and dropped me with a thud.
Crawling back into the cubicle, I turned to see that my swing had done more damage than I could have hoped for. A flap of skin hung from his forehead, partly obscuring his left eye, with several long splinters jutting from the wound. Blood was just beginning to flow.
“Raaaagggghhhhhh!”
Seemed I had enraged the Bull. I turned, stepped up onto one of the visitor chairs in the cubicle, and hopped over the back partition.
Niki took the more direct route, plowing into the partition and using it to slam me up against the internal wall. He was panting just like his namesake now, and he was close enough to me that the blood from his forehead was dripping down on my exposed arm and shoulder. The rest of my body was trapped between the partition and the wall. I tried to bend my legs, to gain leverage, but Niki growled and pressed even harder. The metal frame of the partition was digging into my chest and neck and now I was having trouble breathing. Niki was crushing the life out of me.
I raised my arm and tried to get my hand under his multiple chins, hoping I could force his head back and ease the pressure. But his neck was as thick as my thigh. I couldn’t budge him. I slipped my hand up over his chin and snapped the heel of my palm into his nose, hoping for the mythical strike that drives a bone into your opponent’s brain. His response — pounding the partition a further inch and a half closer to the wall — almost caused me to black out, but the dry wall behind me gave just enough to keep me conscious.
I went after the only weak spot I could find. I reached for one of the splinters jutting from the open wound on his forehead, and hammered down on it.
Niki bellowed and stumbled away, trying to get away from my hand. The partition fell to the floor between us, and I sagged to the carpet gasping for breath. My brain was screaming at me to get up, to get the hell out of there. But my lungs were demanding my attention. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs in action.
Still, I managed to gain my feet before Niki was able to turn his attention back to me. A feat in and of itself. I was grimly marching towards the stairwell when a voice called out.
“Enough!”
Even in the heat of the moment, I stopped in my tracks. That was a voice that demanded your attention.
Turning, just steps away from the stairwell and apparent freedom, I scanned the floor.
We had left a real mess. Smoke was snaking out of Elena’s office, drifting across the ceiling of the central space, and flames continued to dance along the door frame. I was amazed no fire alarm had gone off. The cubicle outside her office was demolished, a rubble of fabric, metal frame, desk and computer equipment left in our wake. College Boy stood at the base of the rubble, seemingly in shock at the sudden turn of events. Two other cubicles were wrecked, and one of the assistants was being cared for by her colleagues, apparently having been knocked aside in Niki’s efforts to annihilate me.
At the entrance to her office stood Elena Legenko, now fully resembling the golem from before. Even from across the floor, the most arresting thing was her piercing stare. Part of me wanted to apologize, part of me wanted to run like hell.
Maxim was the first to speak, turning to her from his spot halfway across the floor.
“Darling, this — ingrate — has attacked Nikolay and I. Niki was simply defending us.”
“SHUT UP YOU FOOL! You and your idiot friend have tested my patience for long enough!”