by Frank Morin
So Nicklaus shot two missiles at her face.
Water shaped like long arms reached out to snatch the missiles out of the air. Nicklaus remote-detonated them, but the explosions didn’t hurt the bad lady. She looked surprised to see him. He bet she’d feel more surprised in a minute.
“You’re just a child!” the woman exclaimed, her anger fading to a look of confusion. She added in a soft voice, “No older than my Ruthven.”
“Let Aifric go,” Nicklaus said. “You’re hurting her.”
The woman glanced down at the column of water, and resolution replaced her confusion. “I can’t do that, boy. Leave now, or I’ll have to hurt you.”
Bad lady. He had warned her.
“You can’t play any more,” he told her, and he activated Drought.
The higher-level mechanical was the enhanced version of the one he’d been practicing with back in New Schwinkendorf. Water had helped him make it, but only after he promised not to tell anyone else about it. He was really excited to show Verena what he could do. He wished she was around to see it.
Built using a sculpted soapstone he’d borrowed from Gisela’s workroom, it was one of the most advanced mechanicals he’d ever created. As soon as it activated, all of the water in the square exploded outward in a fantastic series of horizontal waterfalls that all veered past him and splashed down into the river. In seconds, the entire town was stripped bare of all water.
The bad lady cried out, clutching at her head as the water beneath her leaped away to join the Drought. She fell to the ground and landed hard, twisting one ankle and crying out in pain as she collapsed. She should have listened to him. Then she wouldn’t have gotten hurt.
Aifric fell to the ground in the middle of the square too. She looked bedraggled, and gasped for breath as if she’d been stuck in that water a long time. When she sat up and looked around, Nicklaus waved.
She gaped, looking so surprised he grinned. She rose to her feet and walked toward him. “Nicklaus, what are you doing here?”
“I came to help,” he told her proudly. “I’m going to stop the fighting so people don’t get hurt.”
“Some people are going to get hurt,” she said, glancing toward the bad lady, who had risen awkwardly to her feet, looking really scared.
“Do you have to hurt the bad lady?” Nicklaus asked. Aifric looked like she was in one of her angry moods, but he hadn’t brought any food for her. He needed to find Hamish for that.
“How do you block my access?” the bad lady asked. She looked even more scared of him than she did of Aifric. That was probably smart. Aifric did have a knife and a short sword, but he had missiles and a speedsling.
Aifric stepped toward her, and she started to run. Although she looked like using that twisted ankle hurt, she still moved with remarkable speed and grace. Aifric shot after her, moving so fast she had to be a Strider. Nicklaus hadn’t realized that. She’d catch the bad lady fast, and she’d hurt her for sure.
The ground under the bad lady erupted, throwing her high into the air, all the way into the middle of the river. That was so unfair! The Drought couldn’t drain an entire river. Well, maybe it could, but he hadn’t planned to do that, just to drain the water from parts of the battlefield. That was supposed to remind everyone to stop for a while.
Aifric continued after the bad lady, running right up the exploding earth and soaring after her. She plunged into the water right behind the bad lady, with her dagger already in her hand.
Nicklaus banked to follow, but something smashed into him really hard, swatting him toward the ground like a fly caught in a swatting net. Nicklaus instinctively activated shielding and blind coal and tried activating thrusters. He slid through a huge, hand-shaped mass of earth and spun to see where it came from.
Another big ball of earth, ten feet thick, struck him in the chest. He slid through that one too and spotted a man with bright, red hair sliding into the square. The man looked battered and really angry. Nicklaus remembered him from the bad army that had kidnapped him and taken him to Alasdair last year.
He was the really bad man who had hurt Lady Jean.
Nicklaus released blind coal before it ran out, and raised his speedsling, planning to hurt the really bad man. He loved Lady Jean. She was so nice. Everyone agreed that the really bad man needed to be punished.
A pile of dirt struck his back and raked down his legs. Before he could activate blind coal again, it ripped his boots right off and Nicklaus began to fall.
“No fair!” Nicklaus shouted.
He activated shielding before he hit, and had to use a little more blind coal to soften the landing. When he stood up, the ground of the square rose all around him, forming ten-foot walls in an unbroken ring. The earth beneath his stockinged feet felt hot, and somehow angry. The very bad man stood atop one of the walls, looking down at him with cold eyes. Nicklaus bet Earth never talked to him.
He didn’t want to either, but he raised his faceplate and said, “I’m not supposed to hurt people, but I think Lady Jean would want me to this time.”
“I recognize you, boy,” the very bad man said with a gloating laugh. “Looks like I get to kill you after all.”
49
It’s Okay to Arrive Late to a Party, If You Do So with Enough Style
Connor cried out in dismay as another shockwave of energy erupted from the queen, staggering Evander’s elfonnel. The giant’s torso shook, and the fresh earth that had been flowing up to fill the gaps sprayed outward as it toppled over backward, arms thrown out wide, mouth open in a silent scream. The impact of the giant body falling shook the ground. Queen Dreokt rose from the center of his chest holding its sculpted stone heart in her wicked hands.
Despite the crazy intense fight, she looked completely whole and composed. In fact she lifted the sculpted stone high and cackled with glee.
That was bad, but Connor couldn’t bring himself to believe Evander was dead. The wily giant had already survived one decapitation. Surely he was in there, gathering his strength to fight back again. Connor reached out with chert and connected with Evander’s thoughts. He felt a surge of hope, even though the connection felt weak and distant, as if insulated by a barrier.
The elfonnel. Connor realized he must be sensing Evander buried within the elfonnel. He’d given himself to earth, but still retained a tiny core of identity, and Connor managed to briefly touch that little part that remained Evander.
“The greatest ship sinks when the keel is sundered, and even the valley shaken by the avalanche must cower beneath the snows for a season.”
That didn’t sound good, and didn’t sound like Evander. Connor strained to hold onto the flickering connection, and pushed the thought, “Hold on, Evander! You stood unafraid against Harley and threw an entire mountain at her. You can survive this. We can still defeat her together!”
The queen turned toward Connor, but just then a diorite missile struck her in the chest.
The explosion ruptured the front of her body and blasted her backward. Connor’s lungs were regenerated enough that he managed to cheer, “Verena!”
Her voice came to him from her speakstone. She sounded disbelieving, and he could hear her surprised joy. “Connor? Connor are you really alive? I thought you were dead!”
“Not quite, although dying would probably be easier. Thanks for all that healing. It helped a lot.”
Queen Dreokt caught herself in the air and pulled out of her tumble before striking the ground. Even as her chest began reforming, she swept an arm into the sky, generating an enormous whirlwind that swept upward and away. She might not know where Verena was, but a wind like that could rip her right out of the sky.
Connor tried deflecting it, determined not to lose Verena at any cost.
Queen Dreokt did not fight him for control over the air.
Not good. Even as he wrestled the air currents, Connor tensed for a blow. Instead, she slid across the ground back to the still-motionless elfonnel. The creature’s mouth had sta
rted opening and closing and it looked like it was starting to put itself back together.
Not nearly fast enough.
Queen Dreokt reached it and leaped high to the top of the huge head. Landing on the face, she plunged her arm right through one of its eyes into what should be its brain. The monster convulsed and Connor could feel the queen strike at it with earth and with chert, overwhelming its defenses.
“No! Leave him alone!” Connor shouted, flinging fire and water at the queen’s back. It was a weak, unfocused strike, and she deflected it without pausing her gruesome work.
Connor grasped at Evander with chert, hoping to help shore up his defenses, and again he connected with the concentrated, obstinate core that remained Evander. The queen had arrived first.
A heart-rending scream pierced his mind, cast straight from Evander to him. In it he sensed absolute pain, and helpless fury as Evander realized his own grandmother was ripping out his identity to leave him an empty shell she could fill with whatever she deemed worthy.
Connor panicked, striking at the queen’s control, but he couldn’t seem to grasp her. She was too well insulated, already embedded in Evander’s mind.
She squeezed Evander’s mind like a lemon, casting aside everything that defined him. Connor struggled to staunch the flow, to save him, and Evander seized his mind like a lifeline and hurled the last bits of his conscious thoughts across the conduit.
Connor’s vision blackened, then coalesced into a mindscape he recognized as Evander’s secret inner library, deep under the Carraig before it was destroyed. The fire in the hearth crackled happily, and the one small bookshelf next to the big chair was stuffed with ponderous, leather tomes. More were stacked nearby in dusty piles. Evander sat in the chair, dressed like always in that huge coat, hair a bit disheveled. He looked around and smiled, then reached out one huge hand to stroke the spines of his beloved books.
“Are you really here?” Connor asked. He felt shaky and fought back tears for his dying friend, even though in that moment Evander looked as solid and real as ever.
Evander smiled, but his eyes were sad. “Thank you for granting me an avenue for at least a partial escape.”
“I don’t understand. She’s destroying you, just like she has so many. Are you saying I can put you back once we drive her off?” Connor asked, clinging to that desperate hope.
“I do not believe so. I feel myself dying,” Evander said with a lot more calm than Connor imagined he could ever muster in the face of imminent death. Even with his arms ripped off and most of his body broken, he hadn’t been pushed right to the cusp of death.
“The herb once plucked may still nourish when added to a meal, and every sunrise brings renewal,” Evander said thoughtfully.
The cryptic language helped settle Connor’s nerves. “I’m glad I found you before it was too late.”
“I’ve drawn all I can to you, and part of me may linger here with my favorite books for a time, if you allow me to.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you can,” Connor said instantly, trying not to think about how weird life got around his friends sometimes.
If Aifric could thrive with nineteen women sharing her head, he would gladly host what little remained of Evander’s consciousness as long as he could. Aifric liked to tease him that he didn’t use much of his brain space anyway. Should be plenty of room for Evander.
“Thank you. I will share what I can with you.” Evander closed his eyes, his brows furrowing. A flood of raw knowledge poured into Connor’s subconscious. He staggered, clutching at the wall of the mindscape as glimpses of the knowledge Evander was dumping into him flashed through his thoughts. He glimpsed the Carraig and ancient, glorious Stornoway, felt a deep and abiding love of books and learning filter through him, along with countless memories from Evander of entire days spent studying the tomes so painstakingly gathered into his vault. So much flowed through him, he couldn’t grasp it.
“You’re giving me your knowledge?” Connor asked, awed. He’d thought he understood how chert worked, but he’d never imagined such a link might be possible.
“I doubt I could have shared so much except in this moment of distress when all that defined me is being cast free. I was already untethered to my physical body through the elfonnel, and now the last vestiges of identity are being discarded. Use this knowledge wisely.”
“I don’t even know what I know,” Connor objected.
“I believe it will distill upon your thoughts and become available as you ponder important questions,” Evander said. “If you survive this struggle, come visit with me here while I linger, and I will teach you what I can.”
“I’m honored,” Connor said, feeling humbled by the awesome gift Evander was bestowing upon him. His emotions felt raw and close to the surface. Evander was dying, but maybe he’d managed to save at least part of him.
Evander sighed. “My hypotheses were wrong. My grandmother is both less human and more rational than I supposed. Avenge me, and open your mind to truth, Connor. Only through unvarnished truth may you prevail.”
“I’ll try,” Connor promised, feeling a heavy weight of responsibility settle on him. Evander had always seemed unstoppable, as eternal as the mountains with which he walked. Now he was reduced to a defeated refugee in Connor’s mind.
Evander gave him an encouraging smile and reached out huge hands toward the warmth of the fire. “The quiet of dusk encourages contemplation, and a pond is most still just after dawn.”
“I don’t understand,” Connor started to say, but then suddenly he did! He grinned. “Wow! You shared with me how to understand Sentry speak?”
That was amazing. The fact that Evander had to flee his dying corpse and take up residence in Connor’s mind in order to share that knowledge dampened Connor’s excitement a little, but couldn’t blanket it entirely. Several potential meanings seemed abundantly clear, and he marveled that Evander actually thought so deep all the time.
Evander smiled. “An unintended consequence.”
“Um, do you think there are others?” Connor asked, suddenly less thrilled by the idea, although learning how to throw a mountain like he had done fighting Harley at the Carraig would be fun.
Evander shrugged and smiled. “I guess we’ll find out pretty soon.”
Connor couldn’t believe Evander could crack a joke in that situation, but it suggested Evander would be all right. He wanted to stay and chat longer, but Evander’s earlier message was clear. They could chat in quieter moments, if they survived. Right now, he had to focus on surviving.
He blinked open his eyes. The queen was unmoved, crouched atop the motionless earthen giant, arm still driven through the elfonnel’s head. His chert connection to Evander-giant faded, and he felt the spark of life in the giant change subtly.
Evander was gone, his mind ripped out of that elfonnel body and cast aside. Connor hoped the queen didn’t realize that he’d saved part of Evander from her, but that tiny victory didn’t change the horror of her cold brutality. Connor’s body was almost restored. He wrenched himself upright, ignoring the parts that didn’t quite work right and staggered to his feet.
Queen Dreokt withdrew her hand and stood on the elfonnel’s face as it shifted, losing the hints of Evander’s features. Two of the four arms faded into the torso. It was changing, becoming something the queen must feel was more worthy of her servant.
She crouched to gently caressed the giant face and actually sniffled. “I’m so sorry I had to do that. I remember you as a little boy, playing with Tallan and giving your mother so much trouble.” Her shoulders shook slightly as tears slipped from her eyes.
The sight stopped Connor in his tracks. He knew she was a barking-mad lunatic, but really? She’d just destroyed Evander, and now had the gall to weep over him?
Queen Dreokt straightened abruptly and evaporated her tears with an annoyed swipe of one hand. Her tenderness vanished and she added, “You turned out rotten to the core, you useless wretch. Your rebell
ious insurrections are now ended, and you are finally worthy to serve me.” She barked a harsh laugh and said, “And serve me you will. For all time, you will slumber at this convergence point to restore my regenerative powers.”
Then she vaulted off and landed facing Connor. She stalked toward him, her gaze fixed on him, her expression calm. He sensed absolute assurance from her, plus a little lingering annoyance that he’d delayed her so long.
That elfonnel was no longer Evander, and now Connor had to not only somehow stop the queen, but he had to kill that mindless thing too. Maybe if he destroyed it, Evander’s body would return like the body of the man consumed in the first elfonnel they faced at the Carraig. Could Connor then pour Evander’s mind back into it and fleshcraft him whole?
He wasn’t sure, but clung to that fragile hope. First, don’t die.
The queen advanced, a gloating smile on her smug face. “You show such promise, child. Few would maintain the presence of mind to continue struggling even as they coped with such severe trauma.”
A flash of bright light caught Connor’s attention. A superhuman blur was racing toward them from behind her. He felt nothing through any of his affinity senses, but hope blossomed in his heart and he smiled.
Queen Dreokt started to turn, but by then the blur had already reached the fallen elfonnel. It was starting to lift its massive head from the ground, but fire and water lashed out at it, confirming the identity of the superhuman blur.
Kilian.
His twin blades of elements severed the elfonnel’s head, tossing it into the sky. Even as it tumbled away, more fire and water plunged into the head from twenty directions at once, ripping it to pieces.
The elfonnel’s body convulsed, and Kilian somehow reversed course, returning to the bulk of its body in the blink of an eye, striking again and again. Queen Dreokt recognized the new threat too late. Even as she shouted in outrage, the elfonnel was sliced into two dozen pieces.
