by Alfred Wurr
The disc dipped and wobbled slightly as I jumped onto it, then stabilized. I looked at Bear. “Come on, boy, get on,” I whispered. The Alaskan shepherd looked at the disc, then at me, then climbed aboard. The disc was crowded with two of us but would have to do.
With a thought, I propelled the platform forward. It sprang ahead as if shot from a gun. I probably would have fallen off, but the frost disc felt like a part of me, as attached as any limb. As it was, I had to grab Bear by the scruff to keep him from falling off. Rocky though the start was, we were on our way, racing over the desert floor, heading west-northwest, for the hills.
I didn’t look back. I needed to concentrate. If the scorpions were watching, there was nothing I could do about it. If they did see me, I’d have to lose them in the hills somehow, or fight them. The latter didn’t appeal. There were at least three that I’d seen, but there might be more. They were huge, many times my size, with vicious pincers and stingers dripping undoubtedly poisonous venom. Normally venom wouldn’t worry me, but these things weren’t natural, so who knew what that poison would do to me? Not to mention I had Bear to watch out for. He was a big, tough Alaskan shepherd, but he might as well be a Chihuahua compared to these monsters.
They must be here for me, I thought. No chance these things just happened to be in the neighbourhood.
The air blew hard across my face as we rocketed through the night. I brought the platform to a stop as we reached the hills and looked back. The southern scorpion was nearing the last doorway on that side of the gulch, still searching. The scorpion probing the north cliff wasn’t visible from my vantage point, but I took it as a good sign that it wasn’t racing across the ground in my direction. To all appearances, I had eluded them, at least for the time being.
Rather than taking a chance on the open plain, I moved the platform to the north into the hills, intending to circle around and return to the lowlands farther to the west, where I’d hopefully be too far away to be seen. A half mile to the north, my right foot slipped off the frost disc’s edge. Bear sidled closer to me, trying to keep all four of his feet on board. Since I’d first created it, the disc had shrunk to half its original diameter; the warm, dry air was taking its toll. I pulled to a stop and hopped off, followed by Bear, as the frost disc faded from view.
I didn’t bother to create a new one. I needed Bear to lead me to the Allfrost Chamber, and he couldn’t do that riding next to me on the frost disc.
I rubbed his head. “Okay, boy. Lead the way.”
He started walking, and I followed. He snuffled the ground for several steps, then broke into a trot, and I ran to keep up. We travelled north about a quarter mile, then turned west for a quarter mile before heading southwest, downhill to the plain where we’d last seen the scorpions. As we neared the flat valley floor, a shrill grating sound behind us drew my attention. A giant scorpion ran down the hill behind us, scuttling side to side, zeroing in on our location.
Bear rushed in front of me, hackles raised, teeth bared, and snarled. The creature slowed its approach but kept coming.
“Bear, get back,” I shouted, feeling sick to my stomach. He ignored me and continued to run at the monster ten or more times his size. “Damn it.”
I threw frost at the scorpion, but the arachnid swatted it aside with a swipe of its claw. As the Alaskan shepherd neared, the scorpion’s tail snapped forward like a harpoon. I covered my eyes with my hands, sure I’d see the brave dog skewered by the stinger, but he’d dodged it somehow. He continued to circle the monster, barking.
The scorpion turned to cut him off, and my arms whirled like helicopter blades, sending a stream of frost strikes into its side. The monster shrieked, flinching as they hit its legs and abdomen, and it scuttled to face me. Screaming like a maniac, I ran toward it, throwing several more strikes at its head. It lashed out with its stinger as I neared. I fell to my back, sliding under the venom-tipped spear, and wrapped my arms around the segmented tail in a bear hug. The tail, thick as a tree trunk, snapped back, pulling me through the air like a child on a teeter-totter. I slid down the tail toward the tip and squeezed as hard as I could while channelling ice and frost into it.
Sensing the danger, the scorpion moved its tail forward, bringing me within reach of its pincers. I cried out and grimaced as one snapped closed on my body. Cracking sounds, like someone chewing ice, came from my lower half. I snarled in agony and my grip loosened.
Freeze, damn it, I thought.
I tugged my hands toward my guts, reinforcing my hold, gasping for breath, trying to touch each hand to the opposite shoulder. The pressure from the scorpion’s pincers grew fainter, and finally they dropped away, leaving six-inch-deep gouges in my waist and bits of insulation hanging from my jacket. The arachnid took a few hesitant steps to the side, then settled to the ground as its tail froze and frost spread to its core. I counted to sixty after it collapsed to the ground, keeping my death grip until the entire thing was covered in a layer of frost from stinger to claws before finally letting go.
I rolled away and lay still, breathing heavily, eyes closed. A wet tongue licked the side of my head. “All right, boy, I’m all right,” I assured Bear, sitting up slowly.
My torso ached and I could barely lift my arms. Wincing, I looked sidelong down at my body. Large cracks spiderwebbed across the surface ice that protected my insides. A few chunks had broken away but were already filling in as I regenerated. I staggered to my feet, shaking out the aches in my forearms and biceps, and looked around. Ten feet away, I spotted a few large pieces of ice that had cracked and broken off. I grabbed them and held them to my wounds, reabsorbing water and other elements.
“Let’s go, boy,” I said, waving a hand to the west. Bear sprang to his feet and jogged ahead.
As I shuffled after him, I tore my hat from my head and rustled around inside. The doctor will see you now, I thought as the can hissed and bubbled. I wiped my mouth, tossed the empty into the air and caught it on the way down with my upturned hat, then ran to catch up with Bear.
We were halfway across the valley plain when Bear’s head twitched to the left and he barked a warning. From the east, about a half mile away, three giant scorpions scurried toward us.
I figured that I could outrace them on a frost disc but even if I did, I still had to find the chamber and activate it, which was going to be difficult to do if these things followed me into the hills. Maybe it was the soda talking, but I’d been running for days, hunted by government agents, chased by fire elementals, assaulted by Faction zealots, my friends kidnapped and one shot; a freaking troll had knocked me silly, and now scorpions the size of Mack trucks were out to get me. Everyone wanted to catch me and use or kill me.
All right, I thought. You want to catch me? Catch frost.
I pointed west. “Bear, go, wait over there. I don’t want you getting hurt. This is my fight.”
I didn’t wait to see if he obeyed. My enemies were coming fast; it was time to lay out the welcome mat. Recalling my dream, I summoned a ball of frost and bowled it along the ground. In the ball’s wake rose a white carpet of thick snow forty feet long. I did this several more times in different directions, creating a huge area of snow: an arena for the coming fight. Three against one was hardly fair, but I hoped that this would even the odds.
The first scorpion hit the snow at full bore. It lost traction after a few steps, tried to brake, and careened toward me, carving a path in the snow with its face and claws. I dodged to my left, sliding over the snow like quicksilver. I’m fast at the worst of times; on snow, I move like a lightning strike. Before the scorpion could recover, I slammed several balls of pure frost energy off its head, stunning it.
The second monster skittered to a stop at the edge of the snow, while the third scuttled to my right.
The fallen arachnid twitched. Oh, no, you don’t, I thought. I leaped onto its back, landing near the base of its tail, and ran toward the head, streaming frost balls into its exoskeleton. Something sharp pierced my bac
k and I screamed as pain radiated like wildfire from the impact point. I fell to my stomach and the scorpion’s stinger came loose. I sprang back to my feet and grabbed the scorpion where I thought its eyes must be and opened the floodgates to the Underfrost. The thing shrieked as the cold penetrated, freezing its internal fluids. It stabbed me a few more times before falling still.
A surviving scorpion screeched, drawing my eye to the right in time to see it run its claws through the slushy snow, then start to creep over it toward me.
Where’s the third one? I thought. My head swivelled, looking to my rear.
The other scorpion lashed its tail like a whip as I rolled to the side. The stinger hit its downed comrade near the head, penetrating the thick carapace and sticking. The corpse wobbled and slid away from me as the attacking scorpion struggled to retract its trapped tail.
Snow slushed behind me, drawing my attention. I turned to see the other scorpion still barrelling toward me with outstretched pincers. With no time to do anything else, I sank into the snow out of its reach as its claws snapped together like garden shears overhead. Ducking deep, I swam to its rear and burst from the snow to pepper it with frost balls, escaping back into slush as it turned.
After a few minutes, the scorpion staggered like a punch-drunk boxer but refused to go down. This is taking too long, I thought, huffing with exhaustion.
Shrieking, the stuck scorpion finally wrenched its tail free and turned toward me. I ducked under the snow again, moving behind the weakening scorpion, and leaped onto its back. I stayed near the tail this time so that the stinger couldn’t reach me and threw several more frost balls into its head. Its ally closed the distance and lashed out at me, brushing its tail by my ear with a whoosh. I reeled back and fell, hitting the ground, as my former ride collapsed beside me, dead or out cold.
I felt light-headed and a bit hazy; the venom was messing with my system, slowing the healing process. To catch my breath, I slipped under the snow and stayed submerged, dodging to the side as the last scorpion dug at the snow with its claws, running them before it like shovels, trying to unearth me.
My vision was getting hazy; I needed to end this soon.
I rose from the snow until my eyes were clear. The scorpion’s rear, fuzzy and indistinct, faced me as it plowed a furrow in the melting snow twenty feet away. Rising fully out of the snow, I glided like greased lightning toward it and jumped, extending my arms wide. I sailed through the air and hugged the arachnid’s tail.
This time, my grip was closer to the base; it couldn’t fling me around as easily or reach me with its pincers. It thrashed and twitched, trying to throw me off, but I stuck to it like a wood tick, streaming cold through my body into it. Finally, the scorpion’s struggles weakened, and a few steps later, it stopped moving altogether.
I staggered over the snow, wiping at my eyes. I can’t see, I thought. What’s wrong with my eyes?
Spent and blind from the battle, I sank into the snow and drifted.
Chapter 32
Enemy of My Enemy
I scrunched my eyes tight as warm air blew across my face and something warm and wet licked my eyelids. Cracking them a sliver, I saw a black nose an inch from mine as a long pink tongue licked my chin and cheeks.
I grimaced and sat up. “Okay, buddy,” I said, wrapping an arm around Bear’s head. “I’m up. I’m okay.” I wiped my mouth with my free hand. “I think you gave me a bit of tongue.” He tilted his head at me quizzically. “It’s okay, but let’s never speak of it again.” I clambered to my feet. “Whatever happens in Vegas, right?” He tilted his head to the northeast and barked. “Yeah, I know we’re not in Vegas, but you’re from there, so it counts.”
I pulled a soda from my hat, downed it, and looked around. The corners of my mouth rose. I can see. My head throbbed and everything looked a bit fuzzy, but my vision was returning.
The snow circle was melting fast, with small patches of the desert floor peeking through. I toed the thin layer of slush at my feet. Must have melted and spat me out, I thought.
My back still felt like I had a curling iron wedged between my shoulder blades. I closed my eyes as cold liquid, caffeine and sugar spread through my limbs, boosting my energy as my body fought to neutralize whatever toxins the scorpion had injected me with.
A whup-whup sound drew my attention to the north. A helicopter flew east just above the hills, bathing the ground with a spotlight on its front.
I crushed the empty can and packed it away. “Time to go, Bear. It’s getting crowded around here.”
I kept checking my shoulder as we trekked west. The helicopter appeared to be hovering low over Dublin Gulch but didn’t land.
Walking helped clear my head, and by the time we entered the hills, I felt a lot better. We followed the low valley that led into them. A few steps in, something roared a challenge on the hills above and to the left. About five hundred feet away, a massive boulder thundered down the slope.
No, not a boulder, I thought. What is that?
It wasn’t a giant scorpion. It didn’t scuttle on eight legs. It ran more like a gorilla that I’d seen on TV at the Bodhi Institute, or maybe the troll that I’d encountered back on Allfrost Island.
It reached the valley floor and changed direction, coming right at me.
Even hunched over on all fours, it towered impossibly high. It was even bigger than the troll, maybe twenty feet tall, with hands the size of small cars. Bony spikes a foot and a half long covered its forearms and back. Its skin was coloured like the rock surrounding us—as best I could tell by starlight—dark and leathery, like a reptile’s. Eyes the size of my head burned red and orange like fire, and spots of light shone from its neck as if illuminated from within.
Pulling to a stop a hundred feet from me, it stood upright, standing nearly thirty feet tall, and bellowed again. Light from deep within its throat revealed a mouth full of foot-long razor-sharp teeth.
You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought as my jaw dropped.
“Get back,” I shouted to Bear. “Come on!” I turned and bolted.
My canine companion’s paws kicked up dust thirty feet ahead. Smart dog, I thought as I rushed to catch up.
The behemoth thundered after us like an elephant stampede. I ran at top speed, heading for the snowy battlefield where the giant scorpions still lay, dead and thawing.
Reaching the now-slushy snow, Bear ran wide around it while I hit it straight on, accelerated and spun about. My adversary decelerated as it neared the snow. It pawed at the edge of the slush and withdrew its hand as if burned.
“Don’t like the cold, huh?” I said. The monster banged its fists, shaking the earth. I conjured a frost ball, spinning it on my fingertip like a basketball player. “You’re in my way, dude.”
It recoiled, squinting. A hundred feet above the ground, over my shoulder, the helicopter that I’d seen by Dublin Gulch hovered, shining its spotlight into the creature’s face. Reeling back, the colossus opened its mouth and spat. A ball of fire the size of a boulder flew skyward, deflecting off the top half of the cockpit before crashing into the rotor blades. The aircraft dropped and spun wildly, smoke and flames showering down ahead of its fall. The helicopter crashed hard a few hundred feet away.
The brute fell to all fours and blew fire thirty feet before it like a flamethrower, oscillating its head back and forth to cover a wide swath. I shrieked as fire licked across my face, plunging into the snow beneath me and rubbing feeling back into my cheeks. I swam to my right several feet and resurfaced as I hit the far edge of the drift.
The heat of the beast’s fire was turning the snow to water, raising a curtain of steam that made it hard to see the dark-skinned monster on the far side. I shot a flurry of frost at it, striking its thick hide. It turned to face me like I’d tapped it on the shoulder and breathed a fireball at me.
Stooped over, I couldn’t dodge it in time, so I winced and threw my hands in front of my face. By some long-buried instinct, I surrounded myself in a
bubble of pure frost energy, just as I’d seen in my dreams. The projectile stopped a foot from my face, exploding on contact. I staggered and the shield collapsed under the assault. I shook my head, suddenly exhausted.
That’s some serious dragon breath for an ogre, I thought. Wait, not an ogre. A Drogre.
I hobbled forward and sank into the surviving snow as more fire passed overhead. Blinking at the glare, I resurfaced seconds later as the last of the snow melted. Heavy footsteps pounded behind me.
I spun around and flinched as the Drogre’s fists came up and hammered down. Snow and dirt splashed wide and the ground shook. Only a quick dodge to the right at the last instant had saved me from being pulverized. Before I could get away, the beast’s hand shot out and wrapped around my waist. I felt myself leaving the ground as it raised me like an empty soda can and squeezed. My body hardened, making ominous fracturing sounds under the pressure.
As I neared the Drogre’s face, I raked my nails of ice across the soft sponginess of one of its fiery red eyes. It howled, opening its mouth wide, and I hurled a fusillade of frost down the monster’s gullet. Its gaping maw slammed shut like a portcullis, and its free hand flew to its throat as it coughed and pounded its chest.
Giving me a nasty glare, the Drogre pulled back its arm and tossed me like a football. I landed fifty feet from the fallen helicopter with a deep thump and slid to a stop ten feet from the point of impact. I stumbled to my feet like a drunk picking himself up from the floor after a New Year’s Eve party and rubbed my aching back as I turned to face my opponent.
The Drogre hadn’t moved. It crouched, still coughing, as the glow at the sides of its throat dimmed and faded. Our eyes met as it looked up. The monster scowled, then pounded the ground.
Its eyes narrowed to slits and it opened its mouth. I raised my hands, creating another frost shield, but no fireball came.
“What are you waiting for?” I muttered as the shield flickered. “Come on.” It stayed where it was, eyeing me, waiting.
