Chapter Twenty-Six
Wielding all five elements at once is challenging but not impossible. I just hadn’t had much practice with it. I’d barely acquired these abilities, then I wasn’t able to use them since we were hiding from the elves and the fairies.
The trick, I was learning, was to get one working at a time. Make sure it’s under control, then unleash the next. We didn’t need all of them, strictly speaking. Air was enough to keep us breathing. But a little water helped humidify the air, and a little fire gave us light to spot the nightcrawlers. The power of earth kept down the dust, and with aether, all of my senses were more acute.
None of that settled the nerves churning in my gut. I wasn’t exactly sure what these nightcrawlers looked like. I couldn’t imagine, based on the shrill pitch of their shrieks, that they were even marginally cute. Something that sounded like that could only be hideous.
The only nightcrawler I’d ever encountered before was an earthworm. We used to get styrofoam canisters of them from the bait and tackle shop whenever we went fishing when I was a kid. They didn’t make any noise at all. So, I was pretty sure that the translation of whatever it was Brag’mok had called them into “nightcrawler” was coincidental.
Layla had her arrow ready to fire. The violet-colored magic coursing through her arrow gave us a little light in addition to what the tongues of fire swirling around us provided.
Brag’mok had his broadsword in hand. A sword like that, if a human wielded it, would require two hands. However, he swung the thing around with ease one-handed, as if it was a rapier.
His sword wouldn’t kill a nightcrawler. I wasn’t entirely sure why. I couldn’t imagine anything surviving a strike from his blade. At the very least, though, he seemed to think that it might help fend them off.
The farther we went, moving briskly, the louder the shrieks became.
At first, they were ahead of us. But soon, it sounded more like they were coming at us from all sides.
These things hadn’t just stayed at a distance, waiting for us to enter their domain. They’d circled around us. I suspected it was just a matter of time before they pounced. How Layla would be able to take them out when they started charging us from various directions, I wasn’t sure.
The one advantage we had, of course, was that these nightcrawlers didn’t know her arrows could kill them. A few key shots and they’d be a little more hesitant about coming after us, I hoped. Brag’mok said these creatures were intelligent. In this case, I figured it was better for our sake that they were smart. If they were pure beasts, operating solely on instinct and rage, they wouldn’t think twice about coming after us no matter how many of their number fell to Layla’s arrows.
These were the strategic thoughts that passed through my mind as we readied ourselves for an attack. I might have been overthinking it, desperately trying to come up with some reason why we stood a good chance to survive. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to convince myself to keep pressing forward. We had to get to the giants.
In the parlance of World of Warcraft—a game I’d often played addictively post-divorce—this wasn’t an optional side-quest. It was absolutely essential. Not just because they were the last giants apart from Brag’mok, but because Tisiphone had made it clear we had to bring the giants back with us if we wanted the aid of the Furies.
“So, has anyone ever killed one of these things before?” I asked.
Layla laughed. “You don’t kill nightcrawlers, Caspar. You avoid them.”
“So the answer is no?”
“It’s a no,” Brag’mok said. “If these celestially powered arrows actually work, there’s no way to know how they’ll respond.”
“Did you notice?” I asked. “I think they went silent.”
“That’s not a good thing,” Brag’mok said.
“Definitely not,” Lalya added, spinning around in anticipation of the first attack as we moved forward. “They’re only quiet now because they’re close. They don’t want us to know where they’re coming from.”
“Why do I have a sudden urge to cry for my mommy right now?” I asked.
Layla chuckled. “You aren’t alone. But I don’t think any of our mommas could handle these things.”
“My mother would slap me silly for even considering putting myself in this position,” Brag’mok said. “But she’d be proud too, knowing what’s at stake.”
“Can they understand us?” I asked.
Brag’mok shook his head. “They’re smart. But no one has ever spent enough time with one to teach them language.”
“So I imagine taunting them is off the table,” I said. “Thought, you know, since we were on the topic of mothers, I could maybe throw a yo momma joke their way and get them to act carelessly.”
“Caspar, would you just shut up,” Layla said. “I need to concentrate.”
I snorted. “Sorry. I get chatty when I’m anxious.”
“We know,” Brag’mok said.
“One of your more endearing qualities,” Layla said. “When our lives aren’t on the line.”
I pressed my lips together, doing my best to stop myself from interjecting another quip. She was right. I was just distracting them. Hell, I probably needed more focus myself. But once I had the five elements working around us, it was all sort of on auto-pilot.
Three rapid shrieks sounded successively from a distance.
Were they really counting to three to attack?
I didn’t have to answer my own question.
A shadowy figure jumped at us from our right. I didn’t even get a good look at it before I saw a second come at us from the left, then a third from behind.
Layla pivoted and fired one arrow, quickly nocked a second and fired it, and then a third.
“Damn!” I said, putting my hand to my chest to feel my heart race. “That was impressive.”
I glanced at the dead nightcrawlers as the purple magic from Layla’s arrows spread through their bodies. They were like a hybrid of a spider and a squid and as black as night, their bodies slick and smooth. They didn’t have arms. Instead, their long bodies sported between eight and twelve legs.
Another one leaped at us from the front. Brag’mok swung his blade at it. The nightcrawler split in two, but the parts continued moving, reforming its missing half in less than a second. His strike had turned one creature into two.
Layla shot them both down as quickly as she had the first three.
Another loud shriek came from a distance.
“I think they might be regrouping,” Layla said. “Now that they know that I can kill them, they’re probably coming up with another strategy.”
“Next time they attack, I don’t think they’ll be coming at us three or four at a time,” Brag’mok said.
“I agree,” Layla said. “If I were in their position, I’d try to overwhelm us. Come at us with so many at once that I couldn’t possibly take them down.”
“I can try and widen our area,” I said. “Push a little more power into all the elements. You said they don’t like earthen magic, right?”
“It doesn’t hurt them,” Brag’mok said. “They just find it…repulsive.”
“You could swim through raw sewage,” Layla said. “You’d survive just fine. But you’d be disgusted by it. Earthen magic is sort of like that to the nightcrawlers. They’ll avoid it if they can, but it won’t stop them if they really want us dead.”
“It’s a good idea,” Brag’mok said. “If anything, it’ll buy us a little more time. We’re getting close. The village should be just over the next hill.”
Layla nodded. “I can see the glow from their fires.”
“I can barely believe it,” Brag’mok said. “I think the Fury was right. They did survive out here.”
“I need to rest after this,” I said. “Wielding all this power, it’s exhausting. But I can do it.”
“We just need to make it to the village,” Brag’mok said. “You’ll be able to gather your energies once we’r
e safe.”
I inhaled deeply and focused my energies, drawing in some of the atmosphere I’d created around us. I churned the air, creating a giant whirlwind all around us, then I forced it outward.
I pressed more water into the wind, releasing the cool energy of that element. Then I drew on the heat of fire in my frame and turned the tongues of fire dancing around us into large infernos.
“It’s working,” Layla said as the nightcrawlers started shrieking again. This time, the tone of their shrieks was less definitive, less controlled. It was as if all of them were screaming at once.
“They’re panicking,” Brag’mok said. “This is unlike anything either the giants or the elves have thrown at them in a thousand years.”
“I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up,” I said as my knees weakened.
Brag’mok stopped in his tracks and grabbed me, then threw me over his shoulder. “Just keep casting your magic, Caspar. We’ll run you the rest of the way.”
I’d never seen Brag’mok run so fast. Layla was just as fast.
I kept the magic going, unleashing a little more earth and aether to compliment the other elements.
As we crested the hill, I could see the village below.
It wasn’t much—several huts, made mostly of mounds of mud and covered with dried-out leaves. But there were green grasses all around the village. A small group of maybe a dozen giants inside came forward as we approached.
“Brag’mok!” one of the giants roared as we charged onto their grounds.
“Hello, Gronk,” Brag’mok said. “It’s great to hear your voice. I didn’t think any of you were still alive.”
“We assumed you were dead, too,” the giant Brag’mok had called Gronk said.
Brag’mok set me down on the ground. I knelt a second to catch my breath as I released the magic I’d been casting.
“Are you the only survivors?” Brag’mok asked.
“We are the last of our race,” Gronk said. “But who are these? You dare bring an elf, and Brightborn no less, into our sanctuary?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“The princess is with us,” Brag’mok said.
Gronk grunted. “You trust her? Deceit runs in her blood!”
“It’s true,” I said. “She’s trying to stop her father.”
“Who are you, human?” Gronk asked, towering over me. He was about a foot shorter than Brag’mok but an imposing presence nonetheless.
“I am Caspar,” I said.
“He is the chosen one of the ancient prophecy,” Brag’mok said. “We’ve come to save you. To bring you with us to Earth.”
“This is our home,” Gronk said. “We have no intention of leaving.”
“No intention?” Layla asked. “Isn’t it your sacred purpose to protect the Earth? My father has already taken his legions there. We need you to help stop him.”
Gronk shook his head. “We have already lost. We could not stop Brightborn here. Why do you think we’d be able to do so on Earth?”
“I bring the elementals,” I said, “and the Furies will unite with us if you’ll join us.”
“The three races, born from the divine loins,” Brag’mok said.
Gronk shook his head. “Just a story. A myth meant to give our ancient ancestors a sense of purpose. But it is nothing more.”
“Not true,” I said, my head still spinning from exhaustion. “The Furies sent us to find you.”
“The legend says nothing of an elf joining us to protect the Earth,” Gronk said.
“The prophecy says that the chosen one will unite the peoples,” Layla said, clenching her fist around her bow, “and there are elves here who might also join us.”
Gronk laughed. “You seriously expect us to join with elves to fight other elves on Earth?”
“That’s what I expect,” Brag’mok said. “The age of war on this world is over. The prophecies have been fulfilled, all except for the one that remains sealed.”
“This is a matter to bring to the high priest,” Gronk said.
“Vakgu is here?” Brag’mok asked. “Take us to him. He’ll confirm that what we say is true.”
Gronk grunted. “He is not. He did not make it. Targigoth has ascended to his place.”
“Targigoth?” Brag’mok asked. “He’s just a child.”
Gronk nodded. “He is the only priest who remains, Brag’mok.”
“Very well,” Brag’mok said. “Does he have the scrolls?”
Gronk nodded. “Thankfully, they remain secure.”
We followed Gronk through the onlooking giants. Looks of disdain directed at Layla, combined with curiosity—probably on account of me likely being the first human any of them had ever seen—followed us.
It wasn’t unsurprising. Until now, Layla had been the daughter of their arch enemy. It had to be a surprise for a human to traverse through the shades of their broken world.
“Are all of these giants sorcerers?” I asked, stumbling beside Brag’mok.
“Some of them,” Brag’mok said. “Gronk is probably the most accomplished of all our kind. We are fortunate he’s survived.”
I shook my head. “He doesn’t exactly seem pleased to see us.”
“Our people have lost much,” Brag’mok said. “To subject what remains of our race to danger, to more war. It’s a big ask.”
“But can they really expect to live here, in this small oasis, forever?” I asked.
Brag’mok shook his head. “Of course not. But convincing them of that after all they’ve endured won’t be easy.”
“They hate me,” Layla said, resting her hand on my back. “My presence here isn’t making our case any stronger.”
“Not necessarily true,” Brag’mok said. “They know the prophecy. That the chosen one should appear with you cannot be a surprise. Still, centuries of disdain for the elves is not something easily shaken.”
“I don’t blame them,” Layla said. “When I learned the truth about what my father planned, what the elves have always intended… I’m not exactly proud.”
“You should never be ashamed of what you are,” Brag’mok said. “You may be your father’s daughter, but you are not your father.”
“Still,” Layla said, “the shame is real.”
“Sometimes, the Bible speaks about generational sin,” I said. “How the sins of the fathers become the sins of the children. I don’t think that’s about inherited sin. It’s about learning to mimic the errors of your parents. In AA, you’d be surprised how many members are second or third-generation drunks. Several of them have children who struggle with the disease.”
“That’s different,” Layla said. “There’s an actual genetic component to alcoholism.”
I nodded. “But our genes don’t take us through the twelve steps. We don’t blame our actions on an inherited disease. We take responsibility. We make amends, and we strive to do better today than we did yesterday.”
“Exactly my point,” Brag’mok said. “You could have done what your father desired. He sought to set you up as the chosen one. You could have stayed by his side and ruled. But you didn’t. You took responsibility. You decided that your past, what your ancestors and family have done, didn’t define you. You left behind everyone you ever knew and put your faith in a prophecy and a preacher.”
Layla sighed. “I can’t still help but feel shame over all my father has done.”
“He feels no shame at all. That’s what makes you and your father different, Princess,” Brag’mok said. “The pain you feel over his actions proves it. It’s because you aren’t like him that it aches. You have chosen the harder path. The noble one. Because of you, elves will not forever be judged only by your father’s actions. You’ve forged a new future, a better history for elven kind.”
Layla wiped a tear from her eye. “Thank you. That might be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.”
“Do not thank me yet,” Brag’mok said. “What I’ve said goes in both directions.
Simply because the noble giants were dedicated to the protection of the Earth… Well… As we prepare to meet the high priest, remember that just as no one should be judged by his or her race, no one should be exonerated by it, either.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Targigoth… I’ll simply say that of all the children born to the priestly caste, he’s the last I’d have ever predicted would one day become high priest.”
“He’s just a child,” I said. “Surely some immaturity is to be expected?”
Brag’mok grunted. “He may be a child. But this one, in particular, is insufferable.”
“Come on,” Layla said. “He’s a kid. How bad can he be?”
“Hopefully, the burden of responsibility and authority has changed him,” Brag’mok said. “That’s all I’ll say lest I skew your opinion of the high priest before you have a chance to meet him.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gronk pulled back the large curtain that covered the entrance to one of the mud huts and held it open for us as we went inside.
Gronk closed the curtain and remained outside.
“Brag’mok!” the giant, who I presumed to be the high priest, exclaimed as he reclined on what resembled a large chaise, lined with a material similar to velvet.
“Hello Targigoth,” Brag’mok said.
The high priest extended his hand. “Please, help me to my feet.”
Brag’mok held out his hand, and the high priest grabbed it and stood up. As a child, he was still rather large. He was approximately my height. His hair was long, stringy, and tucked behind his ears. He glanced at me and then fixed his gaze on Layla.
“Well, hello, beautiful,” Targogoth said.
Layla cocked her head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure will indeed be yours by the end of the night,” Targigoth said.
I cleared my throat. “I’m Caspar, by the way. Layla’s husband.”
Junkyard Dogma (The Elven Prophecy Book 4) Page 15
