Taken

“Behind you!” I shouted.

Anne turned back just as the figure flicked into view behind her. Her eyes went wide and she jumped out of reach as the shape reached out, grasping.

A second later I slammed into it. The darkness hid the creature’s features; it had the silhouette of a human but was heavier. We both went down and hit the tarmac and I rolled away fast, staying out of reach.

A second figure stepped out of the darkness right next to Anne, reaching for her neck. I’d seen it coming and aimed a kick from the ground that took out its knee. The second one hit the ground next to the first and I scrambled to my feet, backing away with Anne. “Variam!” I shouted. “They’re constructs, destroy them!”

Both constructs were rising to their feet and in the futures ahead of us I could see the paths they would take, solid lines of light changing to match our actions but without choice or initiative of their own. One was still locked onto Anne; the other was heading for me. But it took them a few seconds to reach us and Variam got there first.

Mages of Variam’s type are called fire mages, but that’s not really what they do. Their real power is over heat: generating it, controlling it, moving it. It’s true that most fire mages do use fire in their spells, but that’s as much psychological as anything; fire is what they think of, so that’s what they create. Variam’s approach was a little different. Instead of creating bolts of fire or some kind of flamethrower, he just poured a ton of heat into the area right between the two constructs.

Fire magic’s not subtle and it’s not great at defence, but for sheer destructive power there’s not much that can beat it. There was a hissing sound and a thump of superheated air, a backwash of heat making me cover my eyes. When I opened them again the constructs were gone. A five-foot circle of tarmac where they’d been standing was steaming, and the corners of two car fenders that had been in the blast were glowing a faint yellow and starting to droop.

“Where’d they go?” Variam said in surprise.

“I don’t know.” I looked around. I could see figures in the darkness of the car park but they were too far away, and as I concentrated I saw that they had the branching futures of humans. “I—Anne, move!”

Anne started and tried to jump away, but this time she wasn’t quick enough. One of the constructs seized her from behind, and a second later the other did the same to me.

Constructs move, but they aren’t alive—they’re dead things animated by magic, created to fulfil a certain purpose. All constructs are built with a guidance program, and once a construct’s been given a command it’ll keep going until the task’s completed. They’re strong—stronger than any human—but that’s not what makes them so dangerous. A construct can’t feel pain or fear or boredom. They don’t get hurt, they don’t get tired, and most of all they don’t stop. If you get away from one, it’ll just keep coming. The only way to stop a construct is to completely destroy it, either by breaking the spell that animates it or by doing such massive damage to its body that it can’t physically hold together anymore.

But for all their power, constructs have limits. They can’t draw conclusions, they can’t take initiative, and they can’t use tactics or prediction or deception. You can’t program a construct to outsmart an opponent; you can only make it stronger or tougher or faster.

The construct that had grabbed me from behind was trying to break my neck, and if I’d given it even the smallest chance it would have succeeded. But it wasn’t the first time I’d had a construct try to kill me and I’ve learnt from painful experience what works and doesn’t. As the construct reached for my neck I twisted to one side, pulling it off balance and levering its hand away. Someone who knew how to fight would have recognised the move and countered it, but the construct didn’t understand the concept of leverage and just kept trying to pull me in and crush me. I went with the movement and turned it into a throw, slamming the construct to the tarmac. The twisting motion pulled the thing’s grip loose and I jumped back again out of range.

I felt a surge of magic and looked back at Variam and Anne. The other construct was gone and Variam was standing against Anne with his sword out, staring into the darkness. “Variam!” I snapped.

Variam looked at me, confused. “I don’t get it. I hit him but—”

The second construct pulled itself up and went for us again. Variam narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, orange-red light flickering about his upraised hand. A pulse of heat exploded with a hissing thump from the centre of the construct’s chest, hot enough to ignite the air in a flash.

An instant before the spell hit, the construct vanished and we were alone in the darkness. “What the hell?” Variam said. “I hit him!”

Anne was looking around, and as she did her eyes widened. “Vari, Alex! It’s over—!”