by CM Raymond
“What did ye do, ye scrap of waste?”
The remnant tilted his head and locked eyes with Karl. As he smiled, his brown teeth turned red. “I ran.” With that, the remnant’s eyes went blank.
Hannah stood up. “To the north.”
“Lass, running might not be all bad.”
Narrowing her eyes, she stared Karl down. “The only running the Bitch and Bastard Brigade does is toward danger, rearick.”
He shifted his hammer in his hands and smiled. “Bloody good answer. Lead on.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The company pushed through the swamp in silence for the better part of three hours. Their spirits were as soggy as their clothing, and Karl swore and cursed everything he could think of. Finally the islands in the marshy region became bigger, and the wetlands fell behind them. As night approached, they made it to dry land.
Hannah looked at her team and then toward the setting sun. They all looked exhausted—even Olaf, who was a magnificent physical specimen given that he was centuries old. “We should stop here,” she said, pointing to a stand of trees to their left. “Olaf, would you try and pick up the Skrim’s scent while the rest of us set camp?”
He nodded and turned his back to her to disrobe. Hannah glanced away and saw Mika watching her man with a sensuous smile on her face. “It gets me every time,” she said, not looking at Hannah.
An animalistic roar sounded, and Hannah turned back to see the massive bear stretch its legs and trot off to find the Skrim’s trail.
The rest of them did what they could to provide some shelter, their weary muscles screaming at them as they worked. In an attempt to dry off, Karl had stripped down to his undergarments. Hannah couldn’t help laughing.
“What, lassie, ye’ve never seen a grown man in his underbritches?” Karl snorted, turning red in the cheeks.
“Oh, I have, Karl. But it looked nothing like that.”
He scoffed and waved his hand at her, his most common response to her teasing. Karl took it well, since he knew it was good-hearted ribbing. Hannah would tease him every hour of the day if she could, but if anyone besides the Triple-Bs did so, she would have their tongue on her dagger.
Once their simple camp had been established, Karl made a fire and warmed slabs of salted meat from his bag. At first they had thought twice about a fire due to the remnant’s land not being so far off, but they assumed that after the toll they and the Skrim levied on them, the remnant would likely leave them alone, if only for one night.
Plus, they would need their strength if they were to have any hope against the hell-monster.
As darkness settled and the stars came to life, Olaf, in human form, ambled into the outer reaches of the campfire’s light. He grabbed his clothes from Mika and got dressed. “Found the bastard’s scent, and it isn’t far.” He nodded to the north. “Seems the thing isn’t keeping to any sort of straight line. Almost like we’re on some damned wild-goose chase, which is odd, I think.”
Ezekiel nodded as he puffed his pipe. “Yes. But there is nothing normal about anything that comes through the Rift, believe me.” He nodded at the meat, which was still in a pan close to the fire. “We saved you some. It’s not a lot, but it should fill your pit.”
He nodded. “Thanks. Tomorrow my sustenance will be seeing that Skrim fall.”
“You and me both,” Hannah agreed.
The company sat in silence for a while, watching the flames lick the air and sparks dance like fireflies in the night sky. Sal was already snoring in the fire’s heat, outmatched only by Karl.
Before long, Olaf and Mika excused themselves. They were anxious for vengeance, and only sleep would make the dawn come faster.
Hannah, alone with Ezekiel, finally asked a question she’d been wondering about since they arrived in New Romanov. “The city must have been beautiful when you lived there. Why did you leave?”
Ezekiel tapped the burnt weed from his pipe and twisted his pinky inside the bowl, giving it a good field cleaning. He glanced at her and then went back to the work at hand. “It was beautiful. Of all the places I’ve been, New Romanov in her prime was better than any city in Irth. The people were of one mind, and we had built it from a simple military outpost into a place of true peace. And the people,” he looked up and smiled, “were of the best sort.”
“Yeah. Back to my question—why the hell would you leave a place like that?”
Ezekiel lit his pipe and drew in the smoke from the weed he had been offered in Urai. Its taste was poignant, with a bite. After staring into the glowing ember, he shrugged and drew again. “We thought, once we’d ended the Madness, that the world would be better. But people kept coming to us, mostly from the west. They brought reports of what the larger world was like after the Madness. A damn hell in Irth, at least as far as the reports went. I won’t soon forget the conversation I had with Lilith. Told her I wanted to make a difference, to bring a little piece of New Romanov to other places—to where I had been born.”
“It’s a wonder she let you go,” Hannah said.
Ezekiel shrugged. “Lilith never was one to tell people what to do, and she knew how serious I was about wanting to build something new to make the world better. So I filled a bag and set off, following the course of the sun. I wandered for a long time, met all kinds of people. The adventures from those days would be enough to fill a book or three. But it wasn’t until I got to the Arcadian Valley, and met some of the others who would become the founding members of Arcadia that I knew I had found the place where my new city would be built.”
Hannah nodded along. She wished there was a mystic nearby who could project the story as he told it, but her imagination was doing a fine job. Finally she said, “You’ve never told me why you left Arcadia in the first place. I mean, if it was your dream to build it? And the gods know my life would have been better if you had stayed.”
She laughed at her joke, but Ezekiel’s eyes became sad. “Yours and many others,” he whispered. “But I had to go. There was no other choice.”
“Why?”
“The Oracle had reached out to my mind. She and I have a special bond, and I can read her thoughts, even at that distance. She told me about the Rift and even sent an image of the first hellish beast that came through. I returned to try to fight it. We did, and we won, but more came. Remember what I told you, Hannah? I didn’t return to Arcadia for the sake of the city, but for help. I thought it would be Adrien whom I brought back to close the Rift, but you know the rest of that story.” He spread his hands in front of him. “So here we are. Two magicians trying to save the world.”
“And kicking ass all the way,” she said with a grin.
Ezekiel shifted as though he were about to stand, but Hannah interrupted him. “One more question.”
“Shoot,” Ezekiel replied.
“Back in the swamp, you freaked the hell out when I said I was going to enter the mind of the remnant. Why was that?”
“Ah, yes…that,” he said, settling back down. “Well, all the arts of magic are powerful indeed, each in their own way. But each also has its limitations. Mind-to-mind connection is a tricky beast, and one that is hard to tame. Hell, we need to be careful when we dance in the heads of normal humans. But the remnant? They’re different than you and me.
“The mind is like a series of roads with many pathways. When we enter another’s mind, we are walking those interconnected pathways. But the remnant, they’re descended from people who never fully recovered from the Madness. Their pathways are fractured, jumbled. Even the strongest of mystics can have their own mental landscape twisted in a broken mind. I’ve seen it before, and I hope never to see it again.”
“Shit. Maybe this should have been in the handbook you gave me.”
Ezekiel narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. “What handbook?”
“Exactly.” Hannah laughed.
He smiled. “I thought you would have figured it out by now, after what I said on the rooftop of Adrien
’s tower. I don’t need you to know what I know. I need you to know what I don’t. I need you to be able to do what I can’t. A handbook would have only slowed you down.”
She smiled at her mentor, now her peer. Without a word, he rose and shuffled off to sleep.
Hannah stayed awake for a long time, staring into the fire and asking herself if she could do what Ezekiel could not—build a better world. She fell asleep with dreams of shining cities dancing in her mind.
****
Birds chirped as the light of dawn broke across the Archangelsk sky. Hannah and the others had already been on the Skrim’s trail for an hour. She had no idea whether the thing had slept or not, but Olaf insisted that they were close and gaining on it.
Which didn’t make much sense to Hannah. It was like the thing wanted them to catch it.
Sal trotted beside her, and she could feel the tension in her dragon. He too knew they were close, and he was anticipating the fight. Hannah gave him a pat. “It’s gonna be OK, friend. But remember, when we find the bastard, fight hard but smart. We want to make it out of this with all of us intact, and I have no idea how I made you. Couldn’t create another Sal if I wanted to.”
He nudged her hip hard as they walked. She smiled. “It’s a figure of speech. Of course I don’t want to. You’re one of a kind.”
They walked for several more hours in silence; they were close, and they could all feel it. Thoughts of battle swam in their minds, along with images of a fallen foe from a far-away world. Hannah could feel the power swelling beneath her skin, as if her magic within knew exactly what she was walking into and it was ready to do its work.
Another range lay in the distance, farther to the north. The mountain in New Romanov looked like a hill in comparison to these distant peaks. Hannah exhaled, wondering if the entire chase had been orchestrated. If the Skrim drew them into the mountains, it might gain some advantage over them. Or maybe it wasn’t thinking at all. The mystery that shrouded the beast’s behavior was half the problem.
The team hiked into a ravine, deep enough that her view of the mountains in the distance was lost behind the hill on the other side of the gully. Hannah was sad to have lost sight of the range; it had served to keep her mind occupied. Anticipating the impending battle was enough to drive her mad.
As they scrambled to the top of the hill, a great plain spread out before them, the last level ground before the world jutted up into the impossibly tall mountains miles beyond. But no one looked at the mountains, or the wildflowers spotting the plains.
All eyes were on the Skrim sitting a hundred yards away.
Hannah gaped as she took in its enormity. Kir’s description of the beast had been terrifying, but it still hadn’t prepared her for what waited for them.
The Skrim looked feline in nature. But if it was a cat, it had been twisted by some mental magic-induced nightmare. Thick red scales covered its body, which even sitting on its haunches was taller than some of the two-story nobles’ houses in the Quarter. A row of scales on its neck had risen when they crested the hill. A hell-lion, complete with an impenetrable mane.
“Scheisse,” Karl finally said. “Damned thing’s been waiting for us.”
Tilting back its head, the Skrim let out an epic roar which shook the air around them. When finished, it pulled its mouth back in a snarl. White teeth, larger than longswords, matched the whites of its eyes.
The rearick loosened his hammer. “And I think she’s pissed.”
Mika looked over at him. “She?”
Karl nodded, his eyes still on the Skrim. “Aye. Pretty sure, at least. I’ve never felt this scared of a male before.”
Hannah took three strides and mounted Sal. “Enough talk. I’ll distract that demonic bitch so you guys can take her out!”
As if the Skrim had heard her, it stood up on its hind legs, making it nearly as tall as the Academy tower. It let loose with another roar—this one more of a scream—as if begging them to join it for the fight.
“Don’t think it’ll be that easy,” Olaf grunted.
Hannah glanced down. “Come on, Olaf. No need to be unbearable.” She gave him a wink and kicked Sal in the ribs. He took off over the plain.
Ezekiel sighed. “All the work I’ve done to teach her magic, and I should have been focusing on teaching her not to make stupid puns.” He closed his eyes and disappeared with a crack.
Olaf and Mika looked at each other. Lust for justice was written on her face. The Skrim had destroyed so much that she loved, and now she was going to take a pound of flesh, or maybe a hundred. “You heard the woman. It’s bear time!”
He didn’t need encouragement. Olaf was already disrobing, dropping his clothes in a pile. “Hope I need these later.” He grinned as his naked body began to contort and shift into the giant bear with reddish-brown fur.
Loping over to Mika and Karl, Olaf lowered his mighty neck. She nodded at Karl. “After you.”
Karl laughed. “I ain’t ridin’ no beast into battle.”
“Don’t call my man a beast.” She pulled herself onto his back. “Suit yourself, but don’t complain when we bring the thing down and your little legs are still trying to catch up.”
“Dammit, I’m not that short.” Karl cursed and scoffed as he climbed onto Olaf’s back in front of Mika.
“Hold on,” she screamed as the bear broke into a sprint down the hill toward the Skrim.
They were getting close. Karl could swear he could hear the thing’s massive heart beating behind its alien armor. Olaf wasn’t slowing, and Karl grabbed clumps of fur to steady himself. “You take the right; I got the left,” Mika yelled into Karl’s ear.
His eyes grew wide as they approached the Skrim. “Scheisse, ye serious, lass?”
She didn’t need to answer.
With a roar the Skrim reared onto its hind legs, drawing its scaled red paws over its head to pulverize its enemy.
Olaf roared back, but didn’t slow.
They timed the attack perfectly. The Skrim dropped its arms, paws striking with the strength of a hundred men. At the last moment Olaf cut right, dodging the attack, and then pivoted back between the Skrim’s legs.
“Now!” Mika shouted, shoving Karl off to the right as she leapt off Olaf’s back to the left. Hitting the ground with a roll, she was on her feet and hungry for revenge. Her sword was out as she spun toward the creature’s leg. Again and again, she hacked at the thick armored shank, praying she might hack her way through the tough outer shell.
Sparks flew from every blow, but the scales held. Mika wasn’t about to give up. She redoubled her efforts, but Karl, swinging with the strength of a rearick ten years younger, was having no more success on the right leg.
Waves of fire rained down around them, and Karl assumed it was Ezekiel trying his best to blast it with magic.
The Skrim dropped to all fours and swiped at Karl, knocking him no less than ten yards away, then turned its attention to Mika. It stomped its back legs, trying to crush her.
She dodged once, and then again, but she lost her footing and hit the ground hard, knocking her breath away. The Skrim’s giant rear paw lifted and came down for a direct blow, but before it connected her body jerked and she went airborne.
“Got you!” Hannah yelled. “Nice work,” she called to Sal, who had snagged Mika by her cloak in his jaws.
“Damn thing is indestructible,” Mika said as Sal set her gently on the ground.
Hannah shook her head. “Nothing is indestructible.”
Before Mika could respond Sal was flying again, cutting hard in the Skrim’s direction.
“Hey, Sal, buddy,” she yelled into the wind. “The eyes have it!”
The dragon nodded his head, understanding the command. Hannah sat up straight and drew on her power. Her eyes glowed red as a shard of ice formed in her hand. She pushed Etheric power into the material, stretching it into a ten-foot lance.
“Do it!” she yelled. “Let’s cool this red bitch off.”
Sal pulled up toward the sky, and the Skrim’s gaze followed him. It stood on its hind legs, ready to slap the dragon like a common fly. Its aim was good, but Sal was better. With a snap of one wing, he pulled his body around the demon’s attack and dove for its face.
It roared, realizing it had been outsmarted, right before Hannah drove the shaft of ice directly into its soft left eye.
“Bullseye!”
Sal pulled away from its screams and flailing arms.
The Skrim danced in pain. Then, raising its paws, it gripped the lance and pulled it from its eye socket. Thick red ooze spilled out and rolled down its red lionlike face.
Karl and Mika watched in disbelief. “Never seen anything like that,” Mika muttered.
“No shite, beautiful.” Karl laughed. “Finally...a bit of a challenge.”
“Challenge accepted,” Ezekiel said. He was suddenly standing right behind them.
Karl jumped. “Scheisse, wizard. If that thing don’t kill me, yer damn magic will.”
Ezekiel swept the dust from his beard. “It might just be my magic that gets us out of this. I noticed you were getting close and personal with our Skrim’s underside. Notice anything interesting?”
Karl smiled wide. “Aye, I noticed a fair amount. Particularly that the scales seem thinner around the thing’s chest and stomach.”
The old wizard nodded. “Good eye, rearick. If I could focus some of my attack there, I might be able to weaken it.”
Mika grabbed her sword with both hands. “You work on its scales, and I’ll see how far I can get my sword in.”
Ezekiel looked at the Skrim and then back at her. “Of course, but I might need to get closer. Karl, you up for giving an old man the distraction he needs?”
“Aye.” He held up his hammer. “I was made to be a pain in the arse.”
“Good,” Mika replied. “You be a dick, and Ezekiel, you give me a target.”
Karl turned and ran for the beast while Ezekiel sent a message to Hannah to give it hell from above.
****
“Hey, ya son of the devil’s taint,” Karl screamed, hammer held high. “Come suck on me hammer.”
