Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

down, and they were defenseless. Energy beams punched through chests and backs and vaporized heads, and dead and dying ELFs plummeted from the sky.
    A handful drew on the last of their strength to dodge the disrupter fire with inhuman speed. They dropped to the ground, drew swords and daggers, and cut viciously about them as they tried to disappear into the panicking crowds. The ELFs knew the Paragons wouldn't shoot into the crowd to get them. They were weak that way. But the oversoul could still see them. They protected the civilians with force shields, and forced the ELFs out into the open again. Only six ELFs were left now, out of thirty-two. And Lewis Deathstalker, Finn Durandal, and Emma Steel went forward, swords in hand, faces grim, to finish them off.
    It was all over very quickly. A massive defeat for the ELF cause, broadcast live across the Empire.
    All thanks to Finn Durandal.
    King Douglas arrived soon after to congratulate the Paragons; the heroes of the day once more. The reassembled crowds cheered and shouted themselves hoarse, and beat their hands together till they ached. They even cheered the oversoul, hanging like benevolent angels on the sky above them. Douglas greeted Finn and Emma and Lewis warmly, shaking their hands and clapping them on the shoulder. He turned to address the cameras and the crowd, and immediately everyone fell silent.
    "My friends, the victims of the Arena tragedy have been avenged. The rogue esper terrorists are dead.
    All of this, because of one man. Finn Durandal! Who has spent the last few weeks working undercover to courageously infiltrate the ELF underground on his own. Who discovered their terrible plan to attack this city, and arranged the Parade of the Paragons as the perfect bait to tempt the ELFs into a trap. Finn worked with security and myself to turn this trap back upon the ELFs, and now the Paragons have dealt the ELFs a blow from which they will never recover. All honor to Finn Durandal!"
    The crowd went wild, while Finn hung his head modestly and even managed a little blush. The King held up his hands, and the crowd hushed again. He announced the great Quest of the Paragons, to be led by
    Lewis Deathstalker, to search for the missing Owen of blessed memory, and bring him back home to deal with the Terror. And the crowd went crazy. Eventually the Parade was able to set off again, and the city cheered the Paragons hysterically all the way to the far boundary.
    Afterwards, King Douglas invited Finn Durandal into his private chambers at the Court, and presented Finn with his own personal esp-blocker. To protect him from any future attacks by the rogue espers. This was a rare and singular honor, since the use of esp-blockers was normally closely regulated, and Finn was suitably gracious in his thanks. Even though it was what he'd intended all along. He'd achieved a lot for one day. Destroyed or at least severely weakened a major rival power base. Reestablished himself as great and beloved hero in the eyes of the public and the King, and acquired his own esp-blocker. Which meant no one could read his mind anymore. He could plot and conspire and betray in perfect security.
    When he left the Court, he was laughing softly. Though Douglas didn't know it, he had just presented his greatest enemy with the means necessary to bring him down. Finn laughed all the way home.

Chapter 5
    THE BETTER PART OF VALOR
    Ambassadors' Row was actually set right in the middle of the business district, and from the outside the various Embassies seemed like just another series of brightly shining office buildings. All very smart, quietly elegant, deliberately anonymous. The various residents didn't give a damn about tourists, or being media friendly. Ambassadors' Row was a place where people went quietly, often in disguise, to make the kind of deals that couldn't be made openly in Parliament. Favors and information and sometimes technology were traded, bargains were made in good and bad faith, and secrets were jealously guarded.
    Investigative reporters were shot at on sight, and the everpresent security measures were unobtrusive but mercilessly efficient.
    The street was empty when Lewis Deathstalker stepped down off his gravity sled outside the door to the Shub Embassy. The building looked no different from any of the others; just the usual brick walls, opaqued windows, and a single firmly closed door. Just another in the long street of meeting places and sacred grounds for all the