Woad Children (Challenger's Call Book 3)

by Nathan Thompson

  “If there was still such a team left, it could work,” the Stag Lord admitted. “But the strongest of our heroes are all spread among different tribes, unused to working together. And many of those who did band together have lost too many people. We would simply be feeding the Chaos Wound with their corpses. And I would be drained from transporting so many warriors myself. I would no longer be a match for my brother.”

  “What about my team?” I asked. “We just took a Horde Pit apart yesterday, with no losses. It was led by an enhanced Spawn and two of his brethren.” I pointed to the Gaelguard behind me. “How well do the heroes of old stack against the heroes of today?”

  “Very well,” the giant man admitted. “There are a few chiefs and champions that surpass them, but for their size…” He pondered for a moment. “They may be the strongest force left in the Woadlands.”

  “Send them,” Merada said, stepping forward. “I’ve had time to speak with them. To figure out how to merge me Woad magic with their own.” She turned to look at me. “Let me lead them for this. I can magnify their tattoos with me own. And I can bring me own guard to reinforce them, like we did before. This’ll work, Malcolm,” she insisted, looking at me.

  “Rumor has it that you can no longer resurrect, Challenger,” Mother Glade spoke up. “Are you truly willing to risk both yourself and the Woad Princess if this mission fails?”

  “No,” I answered bluntly, and Merada’s face darkened. “But I have to. Every day our foes get stronger and we get weaker. It’s time to hit them with our very best or we have already lost,” I announced, and Merada’s scowl lifted.

  Much better, the huntress sent with a sniff. Next time lead with that.

  “I will still be too weak to battle Bloody-Horns if I transport you all,” the War Icon announced reluctantly. “And Mother Glade is spending her energy slowing the damage to the land caused by both great Challenges. Lady Titania must also spare her energy for resisting her fell counterpart.”

  “Let me come with you, then,” Great Pan said, as he sat back down in the air.

  The Stag Lord slowly turned to regard him.

  “Are you sure?” the somber Icon asked the other carefully. “You have… other responsibilities.” The female Icons both nodded at that, which was a bad sign.

  Um, Merada? I sent. What’s going on right now?

  Pan be a bit difficult to work with, the Celtic huntress said privately to me. Always changing a plan a bit at the last moment. Always has time for pranks. Even the fairies think he be a bit much.

  Can he do the job, though? I asked.

  Oh, certainly, Merada sent. He’ll just make it randomly embarrassing for someone. Probably you.

  I can live with that, I decided. I’ve had people be actually mean to me. Calling me cripplehead, or a pedophile’s brat. Harmless teasing was nothing.

  I walked up to the talking Icons. Great Pan seemed happy, while the other three were wearing resigned, defeated expressions.

  “Pan and I will go, Challenger,” the Stag Lord announced hesitantly. “I will be the vanguard and engage my former brother, but you must rely on Pan to power your transport. I will understand if—”

  “If you get us there and back with no difficulties, I’ll have a drinking contest with you after the world gets saved,” I said to the mischievous Icon. “You will be the first creature in the entire Expanse to have ever seen me, Wes Malcolm, Challenger and Lord of Avalon, drunk. If I pass out during that time, I’ll let you draw on me without punishment. In fact, I’ll have a copy of the drawing preserved for historical purposes.”

  “Hail to the rightful Lord of Avalon!” the hooved Icon suddenly boomed.

  Great Pan’s opinion of you has improved, my mindscreen informed me. The Icon now recognizes your claim to Avalon’s throne and pledges his allegiance to you. This is conditional upon you keeping your earlier promise.

  “Fantastic,” I said dryly. “Let’s get ready to leave. I want to hit them immediately, before they’ve realized we plan on attacking. Is that possible?” The four Icons nodded.

  All that was left was to put our plan in to action. Merada’s team of fairies had remained close by, so they were reintegrated, along with a few of Lady Titania and Mother Glade’s champions. I saw Petal fly up to Breyn and smile shyly at him, and saw him smile shyly back, before his mother walked over and began scowling. The two quickly got back to checking their equipment and magical spells. As I did the same, I walked over to the nine-foot-tall Icon responsible for our passage.

  “Hey, Pan,” I asked quietly. The glowing satyr turned and grinned at me.

  “Finally, someone willing to shorten my title. What can I do for you, Lord Challenger?”

  I removed Carnwennan from Breaker’s scabbard.

  “This white-gripped dagger can shroud me and my people. I’m wondering if it can somehow mask our presence as we enter in. What do you think?”

  The Icon’s boyish face widened in surprise.

  “If that is the weapon I think it is, then I suspect our little endeavor just got a great deal less desperate. My powers merge marvelously with items of subterfuge. We will be able to enter deep into the Wound’s territory before anyone notices.”

  “Great,” I replied. “I’ll let my team know.”

  “Er,” the trickster Icon hedged. “That would actually weaken the effect. You see, I was being rather literal when I said ‘anyone notices.’ If you start telling members of your team, my magic will be affected and we will no longer be able to take advantage of the Dagger of Avalon’s holy shroud.”

  “I can’t leave my team unprepared,” I protested.

  “Nor should you,” the Icon said carefully. “But I don’t think that will be an issue.” He pointed to his left. “Do you see how Mother Glade’s entire guard is pulling your people over to whisper to them in hushed, urgent tones?”

  Sure enough, all of the locals were giving each other these incredulous ‘are they seriously doing this, I can’t believe it and we’re all going to die,’ looks, all while pulling my teammates over and whispering what looked to be a twelve-step survival plan into their ears.

  Hey, bro? Val sent me. Just so you know, the locals are saying that using this Pan guy is the worst decision you’ve ever made, and that we need to be super-prepared for literally anything, because things will go certainly and horribly wrong. Do you know anything about that?

  And that there, was the problem with working with family on things like this.

  Nothing I can say, I sent back carefully. But I think their ideas are practical. Go ahead and be safe. Expect trouble as soon as we land.

  Grrr, my fourteen-year-old adopted sister sent back, who, all things considered, had been doing a fantastic job of handling everything. Fine. But if things get too bad, I’m totally going to yell at you afterwards.

  Yup, I noted through the mindlink, saying nothing more. Fortunately she didn’t pry and went back to checking her gear and refreshing her Shadow Magic spells.

  My tattoos are fully resonating with yer Gaelguard’s now, Merada sent me. We be as ready as possible.

  Breena and the Testifiers all gave me similar ready checks. Everyone’s magic was refreshed. Everyone’s weapons and gear were ready. I did a double check over my own gear and enhancements, paying special attention to my Blood Magic spells since they were probably going to be the most relevant.

  After one final check, we gathered around Great Pan, with myself in the circle with him, and the Stag Lord standing just outside of it. I held out my scabbard, with Carnwennan in its sheath, gripping the handle while the Icon put his hand over the pommel.

  “Everyone form a chain of hands,” the hooved Icon commanded. “Those closest to the Challenger should put their hands on his shoulder, while those farthest should touch the shoulder of those in front of them. Then, close your eyes.” The rogueish face grew serious. “When you open them, you may find yourselves in the fight of your lives.”

  “I will be your escort,” the Stag L
ord rumbled. “I will draw the ire of the Huntsman and his retinue. When you land, make haste to the center of the Chaos Wound, for every moment counts.”

  We nodded as we all did as they directed. I felt Carnwennan’s shroud swirl as it contacted Great Pan’s power, and the experience terrified me. Not because of the Icon’s vast might.

  It was because Carnwennan felt like it could swallow whole the Icon’s power, if I just had the strength and skill to wield it properly.

  But that sensation quickly passed, and we were all wrapped in a comforting, slightly ticklish presence. Our eyes remained closed, but tiny dots appeared in my vision anyway. I felt like each dot represented a member of my current warband, Icons included.

  I saw our dots soar into the air as one, clustering around myself and the trickster Icon. We left behind the dim impressions of trees and began to whip through the air. I felt behind us a great, hungering cold, stripping away all of the light and life in the distance behind us. I felt brave men and women of all three races—Woadfolk, elf, fairy—battle hard against the furry shapes in the encroaching cold, but slowly give ground to it nonetheless.

  Don’t worry, I thought silently at the Tumult. You’re next.

  And on we soared, flying past the land below. I saw the tall trees of the Woadlands, and wondered what they’d look like when the giant Woadfathers once again grew in their midsts.

  As we flew onward, gradually the land began to change. I saw more Woadfolk and elves stationed on the ground, forming patrols, standing in trees and lookout towers. A few more feet, and I saw bare patches of earth, as if trees and shrubbery had been pulled free and dragged off to the direction we were going. A few more feet, and I began to see weeping trees, dripping blood and swaying in unnatural directions.

  We grow close, the Stag Lord warned. Prepare for combat.

  Oh, they will, Great Pan whispered smugly. Or at least, they will be more prepared than anyone else.

  I dread what you might mean by that, the Stag Lord replied, but pressed no further. The fact that he knew to do so was probably the mark of a good leader.

  The trees grew more and more deformed, the Chaos tumors in them more evident. A horn sounded, and a voice suddenly boomed through our ears.

  “You have returned early, and alone, brother,” the Bloody-Horned Huntsman said in a solemn voice. “Have you come for some sort of secret meeting, perhaps? Or have you come alone to settle the private matter between us?”

  I felt all of the lights around me twitch in surprise.

  He couldn’t sense us.

  Go, the Stag Lord’s light said quietly to our own, and we barreled forward.

  Behind us, I saw the light representing the Stag Lord flare out into a full-fledged bonfire.

  “You have wrecked and damaged my world, my people, and my once-fond memory of you beyond all repair!” the Icon’s voice boomed. “I refuse to let you profit off of my people’s demise! I reject the offer you have made in bad faith, and demand you accompany my world into the grave!”

  In the distance, we heard Bloody-Horn chuckle in contempt.

  “Finally breaking under the strain, brother? I wondered when this day would come. You are a leader of prey, not true hunters! Come, let me see if I can finally show you the difference between the Stag and those who consume them!”

  A blood-red light appeared before us, but it ignored our presence and flew toward our escort.

  “Come, hounds!” Bloody-Horns boomed. “We go on our greatest Wyld Hunt yet!”

  Another horn sounded, and a torrent of howls and bellows answered the Dark Icon’s call.

  “Bring all the help you dare, False Horn,” the Light Icon called out from behind us. “It will not make the difference for today!”

  The two blazing balls of power and heat clashed together, shaking the air we flew in. I was suddenly, painfully made aware of the difference between a weak, nascent Icon such as Raw-Maw and the two ancient, powerful behemoths behind me. But I couldn’t let that distract me. The Stag Lord had given us the best opening we would ever get.

  Stay close and silent, Pan cautioned, and we flew deeper into the bloody woods.

  Through the weird shadow-bond Pan had formed between us all, I felt several people muffle gasps at the sight below. In this weird shrouded space, most of the terrain was still murky and hazy, but right below and before us we could make out details from the horrible shapes. The trees and other fauna were no longer just plants with a fleshy parasite attached to them. They now resembled something I would much rather spend the rest of my life trying to forget, instead of trying to describe. I saw a tree rustle to shake both branches and long bloody horns. I saw roots lift out of the ground with long, bear-like paws attached. One tree shook itself as if to wave at us, grasping with three-clawed talons at the very end of its branches.

  The Wound is becoming more aware, Great Pan told us. I cannot take you much farther.

  Shocked impressions washed over me, as people suddenly realized just how deep into the bloody woods we had gone.

  More shapes flew under us. These moved more naturally, suggesting that they had never been plants. But their bodies were still bloody and wrong, and yet… they felt familiar. One part of my subconscious recognized what they once were and felt revolted, but the other, darker part whispered that I should command them, that I should put them under my heel and force them to obey.

  There was only one specific group of creatures that would make me feel such things.

  These were mutated Horde.

  The final guard force of the Chaos Wound.

  And as one, their bloody, misshapen heads turned in our direction.

  This is as far as I can take you, Great Pan whispered through our link with him. You have a little more than a hundred yards to go, Lord Challenger. I wish you success.

  Wait we’re already near the source of the wound? Breena demanded.

  Yup, I said. Get ready to start wrecking stuff.

  But we—

  The little dots of flame disappeared, and we all became visible. So did the rest of the world around us.

  We had only gotten a hazy view of it before. Everything beyond a few hundred feet had looked murky and hazy, making the mutated plants and trees suddenly jump out when they came into view. Now though, every mutated plant, tree, and beast was visible to the naked eye. We were literally surrounded by hundreds of tumor-faced Horde and hairy, rasping trees. Heads and limbs swiveled simultaneously toward our direction, and a sense of panic began to pound through the mindlink as everyone tried to process a hundred different nightmares all at once.

  A split-second later, I realized I was still in charge.

  I began shouting commands, pitching my voice to make use of the song magic Weylin had taught me. “Forward!” I called out, hitting the proper pitch to create a basic focus effect. “Don’t look! Just kill! Kill and move forward!” I moved and alternated my pitch as I spoke, hitting the notes once more for focus, then courage, then focus again, alternating back and forth until people began moving behind me, following me like they were pulled by a string. “Forward!” I repeated, snapping a quick widen spell script through the air and punching a fireball through it. “Kill and move forward! We are a hundred yards away from going home!”

  My warband seemed to wake up after the fireball went off. They began slinging arrows and spells of their own in a tight wedge, killing enough warped Horde and plants to clear a trail. Just now, the monsters began to lurch after us. We had the element of surprise, and the changes wrought by the Chaos Wound made most of the creatures clumsy, letting us sprint for several dozen yards before they began forming a tight net around us. I sketched a quick, sloppy empower rune through the air and hurled my stored lightning bolt at a tree pulling itself toward us on four badger limbs, striking directly at the tumor where the limbs connected. The tree actually let out a creaking scream, but kept coming, pulling closer on its scorched, fleshy arms right until an Air-enhanced arrow from Weylin splattered the tumor apart
.

  As we ran another dozen yards I saw the circle of monsters tighten, and I knew we would not make it. The Chaos Beasts were clumsy but incredibly tough. The mutated Horde took several times the amount of damage their normal counterparts did, and the trees themselves took whole volleys before they became inert. My own panic was starting to rise until I felt Merada tug at me through the mindlink.

  The Guard and I can keep the way the clear for ye, she sent, but we won’t be any good for the last dozen yards. Think ye can handle that bit on yer own?

  No, I said as I looked up, seeing the massive, pulsing tree slowly coming into view. But I won’t have to. Testifiers, Val, Breena, you’re all with me.

  Got it, bro, Val sent to me. Also, this is absolutely terrifying and I sorta hate you right now.

  Yeah, Weylin chimed in. What she said.

  Before anyone else could complain about the gory hellscape I had led them all into, Merada opened her mouth and shouted out some Gaelic-sounding language that my mindscreen didn’t translate. The Gaelguard all shouted back as one as their tattoos glowed brighter than I had ever seen. As I turned back to notice, I saw the tattoo on Merada’s face light up again, for the first time since we grappled yesterday. She held her spear above her head in both hands as the glow from her tattoo spiraled up and down her entire body. That same glow mingled with the glow from the other Gaelguard until everyone seemed connected by tiny roots of light. Then, Merada took her spear and slammed it into the ground, letting out an eagle-like shriek as she did so. Then green fire geysered out from her entire body, covering the entire area around us, like a round dam that had burst in a hundred different directions at once. The fire incinerated nearby Horde and burned the plant-based tumors clean off of the trees they had gripped.

  Hurry, she sent tensely over the mindlink, and I needed no further encouragement.

  While Merada and the Gaelguard created their firestorm, the fairies and elves opened fire into the area just ahead of us, clearing the way for my small band of mindlinked warriors. I drew Toirneach and began cutting my way through mutated wretches, miscreants and mongrels until I could finally get a clear view of the Trial’s source.