Meta Gods War

by B N Miles

  “Shove with me!” Cam screamed to Theus, who met his eye and nodded. Together, they leaned into their shields. Cam felt Kenden join with them, and all three shoved the wolves back, throwing the corpses off their shields, rolling them into the wolves still snapping from behind.

  That gave them enough room to jab with their spears again. Cam stomped a step forward, thrusting, and caught a wolf’s throat. He ripped back, thrust again, missed, thrust again. Theus screamed something, his spear flashing out, and the wolf corpses began to pile high in front of them. They rolled backwards as the wolves behind scrambled forward, using their fallen as a ladder.

  “Back!” Cam shouted. “Back! March back!” He took a step, another step, and Kenden and Theus stayed with him. The rest of his line moved, and he saw the back steps ripple down to the other men. They needed to put space between them and the pile of corpses before the wolves could begin leaping over their heads and attacking their exposed center.

  Cam stumbled as he bumped into the young boy behind him. He cursed but kept his footing as another wolf slammed against his shield. The boy darted forward, lashing out with his weapon, but he screamed as the wolf caught him by the wrist and bit down hard. Blood squirted from the wound, splashing into Cam’s face. The boy screamed and tried to rip his arm back, but the wolf wouldn’t let go.

  Theus twisted his shield and brought it up hard, smashing the top of his buckler into the throat of the wolf. It knocked the creature back and released the boy, but the wolves in front of Theus leapt forward. They slammed against him before he could get his shield back into position, knocking him back.

  “Theus!” Cam screamed, whipping his spear to the side. Theus cried out as a wolf tried to bite down into his throat. He pressed his shield against the creature, barely holding it off, his spear dropped and forgotten in his desperate struggle to keep the wolves at bay. Cam whipped his weapon to the side and sliced along the wolf’s flank, making it scream in pain and stagger back.

  But the hole had widened. Cam moved, dropping back more, and Kenden kept pace, growling and barely holding back the mass of wolves still forcing their way against the shields. Theus stumbled, nearly tripping over his own weapon, but kept his footing,. He got his shield back into place, his breathing ragged.

  “Fall back!” Cam screamed. He heard other men echoing his shout but couldn’t see what was happening further down the line. They slid backwards under the weight of the wolves, and although the old and the young still darted up to hack at the exposed creatures snapping at them from on top of their makeshift wall, it wasn’t doing enough.

  They were forced back, closer and closer to the carts, closer to their weakest, most vulnerable villagers. The children too young to fight, the elderly too old to move. Cam knew they’d be pinned against the carts soon, and once that happened, they were finished.

  He growled and thrust his spear, hacking, shoving, and stabbing as fast as he could. More wolves dropped, sliced through their throats, their chests, their mouths. He tore one’s tongue from its mouth and followed through to slice across the eyes of its neighbor. He screamed and dropped into that calm, felt it wrap around him like night, as the desperation of the moment began to melt away and battle-lust washed over his skin.

  There was nothing else he could do. The wolves kept coming and he kept killing. Theus held his shield with both hands and hacked with an axe, though Cam didn’t know where he’d gotten it. They were still being pressed back, but Cam saw it from a distance, from the heights of the calm the moment had forced on him.

  He could feel it then. Just at the edge of his awareness.

  That vast pool, that deep valley filled with something—with power, with crackling potential. It was formless, shapeless, but begged to be molded by his will if only he could touch it, draw it into him, suck it down into his marrow and release it like fire, like acid rain. His world became stabbing, thrusting, killing, his shield slick with blood, the ground soaked into bloody red and brown mud.

  More screams tore up and down the lines. Cam sliced, thrust, shoved and killed. Theus hacked with his axe, his hand bloody, the haft dripping with sludge and intestines. Cam saw it all from a distance, reserved and removed, and watched almost impassively as two wolves slammed their bodies against Kenden at the same moment he stumbled over a loose clod of dirt at his feet.

  It was that simple. One small loose section of dirt was all it took to give the wolves an opening. Their combined weight dropped on Kenden like thunder and he screamed out as his legs dropped back and he fell to the ground with the wolves on top of him.

  Cam saw more wolves piling through. An old man screamed and dove at the gap, slashing with a sickle, and was tackled by a wolf. His throat was torn to pieces and he gurgled his defiance. Kenden was trampled underfoot, and a wolf snapped at Cam from the side as he pivoted to face them, his back to Theus. He saw more wolves coming, and in that moment, he knew it was finished.

  There were too many. They still filled the field to the edge of the forest, their back lines barely moving, just waiting for the chance to come forward. They’d only held so long because the Weres’ initial charge had been arrested and slowed the rest of their lines. But their sheer numbers would finish this now, and Cam knew it.

  But he couldn’t accept it.

  They’d come too far for this. His father had given too much, and Cam couldn’t let his people die here, on this spot, on this soil that wasn’t their own, near a spring that meant nothing to them. He thought of Key, fighting in the line nearby with her father, of Theus and his family, of Dagan and Indri and Rador and Kraed and all the others, their lives and loves and hopes.

  He wouldn’t let them die here.

  Desperation forced him to reach for that reservoir of power he felt at the edge of his awareness. He’d never come so far before, never been able to touch even an iota of the power that he knew was always there, that his father promised would be his if only he could find a way to slip his mind through the veils of the world and claim it. He reached and drank it deep, breathed it into his lungs, and felt it start to flow, slow and thick at first, like mud rolling down a hill.

  But it filled him with an energy he had never known before, filled him like lightning. It screamed in his veins, screamed at him to shape it, give it meaning, give it force. He shouted wordless babble, and brought to mind the only Urspell his father had ever tried to teach him.

  Candle flame in void flickering formless against the black breathes like heartbeat grows bigger, grows taller, grows thicker until it flares into inferno.

  He snapped the image into his mind, thrust his spear into the side of a wolf, and fire ripped along the shaft of his weapon and spilled out along the ground.

  Wolves screamed as his fire tore into them. The smell of singed fleshed and fur filled his nostrils as he funneled the power outward. He gasped in fear and elation. It felt like heaven, like a thousand orgasms ringing through his veins. He ashed the wolves in front of him, burning them off Kenden, though he could barely see the man anymore. He turned his fire outward, slicing the wolves around them into an inferno so hot he heard Theus scream out and the warriors further down the line were forced to dance back.

  Cam didn’t move. He waded forward, forward, step by step. He dropped his shield and took his spear in both hands as the fire rippled out from him in waves, forcing the wolves away from him. He burned a spot in the field five yards in all directions, and he gasped with the pleasure of it as the power continued to flow through him, coming easier with every passing moment.

  He could see clearly down the field. The lines had held, though Human bodies littered the ground. They were almost on top of the carts, barely feet away from it. If he’d waited any longer, if his magic had refused to come, they would’ve been crushed.

  But Cam could feel it and he screamed his rage as he threw more fire down across the front of their shield wall. It tore into the wolves and forced them back. He heard a growl behind him and whipped his spear around, slicing across
the animal’s face, cleaving it in two and ashing the rest in moments.

  The ground was smoking, burning. Ash and smoke filled his lungs. He coughed, laughed, screamed. He walked forward, more fire sprouting from his body as he spun his spear and killed another wolf.

  Still the wolves came. For every one he ashed, two more appeared. He began to feel desperate, the calm dark meditative state beginning to fray and the fire beginning to come in fits and bursts. The lines forced their way forward, and he heard chanting from the men. They filled the gaps he’d burned, but he could feel his body growing heavy.

  And still, the wolves came. They flooded the field and snapped at him, afraid of his fire, a pocket of safety burning around him, but pushing against the line further away. He shouted, stabbed, killed, burned, and the bodies piled up. He stomped forward, slamming his boot through ashen piles of wolf corpses, sending what was left of their bodies glittering into the air.

  From the woods, he heard something new.

  At first, he thought it was the magic driving him mad. He could feel a gnawing sensation at the back of his skull, and he knew he couldn’t hold onto his power for much longer. But it wasn’t the magic, not the magic at all.

  It was singing, coming from the forest.

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  He released some of the fire and watched as forms appeared behind the wolves. The Weres at the far end of the field turned to meet the newcomers. Cam screamed in rage and surprise as ten men appeared, wielding long, curving, graceful swords. They slammed into the rear of the wolves, slicing in wide, slick arcs, ripping into the animals like a hurricane.

  More spilled from the trees. Cam counted fifteen, twenty, thirty. Their mass of slicing weapons broke through the rear of the wolves, and Cam felt his power surge through him again as hope bloomed through his chest. He didn’t know who they were or what they were doing, but now he could almost taste survival.

  He heard shouts from the villagers as the line marched out to meet him. Cam whipped his spear in a wide arc, slicing through wolves and forcing them back before he looked back. Theus was marching forward, shouting at the men on either side of him to keep pacing, coming closer to Cam. Wolves spilled around Cam, like water around a rock in a stream, and attacked the line. But they were too few and the line handled them quickly.

  The wolves were beginning to split apart. Some turned and attacked the graceful people moving into their midst, while others turned and attacked the line. Cam released a shout of elation as more fire spilled down the shaft of his spear and he moved toward the people fighting at the far end of the clearing. The line behind him stopped just out of range of his fire, and Cam left a path of burned wolf corpses and sliced bodies in his wake.

  Yet still the Weres came, snapping and screaming in rage and anguish as more of them fell under Cam’s fire. His forward momentum was halted as more wolves threw themselves at him, gibbering and wild, their maws snapping and flecks of spittle flying from their mouths like spraying rain. Cam’s fire sizzled them out, turning the slobber and blood into steam, but still the wolves came at him. He let out his own horrible growl and sliced, his muscles aching, his body raging against its own limits.

  The people fighting at the far end of the clearing moved closer as the wolf corpses piled up. Finally, Cam was able to get a good look at them. They were tall, lean, and graceful, with long hair in braids, beautiful symmetrical faces, and long pointed ears. He realized with a horrible start that they weren’t Human at all.

  They were Elves. Cam had never seen Elves in person before. He’d heard about them, of course. The Elven race was one of the oldest of the Godlings, immortal and immutable. They owned the land before Humans walked it and knew secrets no Human could ever imagine. Those were the stories, at least.

  The Elves swept through the wolves. They wore light breeches, tunics, and simple leather armor in browns and greens. Their weapons were long, curving, thin swords made of a metal Cam didn’t recognize, and long slicing pikes with a wicked curved blade at the end. They fought in formation, striking as one, moving in a coordinated killing mass. Green jewels were braided into their hair and hung at their throats.

  Cam watched in awe as they split their forces, sending a small group off to the side toward him, fighting the wolves with ferocious force, cutting and stabbing. They worked in tight formations, moving in deft and lithe motions, jumping forward to stab and kill, jumping back to dodge attacks. The economy of their bodies startled him, made him feel clumsy and foolish in comparison. They did nothing in excess, nothing worthless, every motion, every step was calculated to kill. Cam continued his hacking advance toward them, meaning to bridge the two forces and break the wolves once and for all.

  But as he got closer, his movement was arrested again. A single Elf from the group closest to Cam had gotten separated from the force’s main body. He heard them shouting in a language he didn’t understand, a lilting syllabic mess that sounded like wind through the trees. He sliced his wave of fire through a mass of wolves desperate to get toward the Elves and shouted his fury and power as they continued to threaten to tear him to pieces. He saw the Elf fall back as more wolves surrounded it, pushing up against it, and he knew it would fall any moment.

  So Cam summoned what power he had left and unleashed it on the wolves from behind. He burned them, amassing as much of the energy as he could from that beyond place, that sweet liquor, that perfect honey, and he gave it shape through the Urspell. He burned wolves with orange and blue flame, gasping out from his hands in huge spurting walls. He ripped them to ash, turned them to nothing, and when he saw a path forward, he ran over wolf ash and corpse. His boots were slick with it and his footing was uncertain, but he barreled forward regardless, determined to save the surrounded Elf.

  He burst through the fire and into a small clearing. The Elf was backed up against the edge of the forest, four wolves facing her. Cam could see she was a woman now, beautiful and young, her long blonde hair flowing, her eyes wide and wild with fear and anger. He didn’t have time to marvel at her body, at her grace. He barreled into the closest Were, slicing it in half before throwing the body at the next wolf. The Elf leapt forward, her blade slicing through the maw of the next wolf as the last leapt at her. Cam shouted and released the last of his magic, a stream of fire that slammed against the flank of the wolf and propelled it into the woods, leaving it a smoldering mess.

  He dropped to one knee and let out a gasp as he felt his power slip away. He was only himself again, only Cam, but there was something else.

  Something horrible.

  He looked up into one of the most beautiful faces he’d ever seen. Big, pale green eyes, full pink lips, a small button nose, high cheekbones, and wide, pointy ears. Her body was like silk, soft and smooth but still strong, muscular and incredible, with large perky breasts. Her leather armor was fitted to her torso, and the straps around her legs somehow made her seem more luscious. She knelt next to him, stared into his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he managed.

  “I’m okay,” she said.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Miuri,” she said.

  “I’m Cam.” He clenched his spear and let out a gasp.

  He felt as though his body might break into pieces. It still crackled with that power, with that intensity, and all he wanted to do was reach out and touch it again. The desire to touch it screamed in his ears. It screamed at him to use more magic, take more into his skin, into his bones, let it rip his muscles to pieces. He gasped with the horrible desire of it all as it pressed harder against him, and as his eyes moved up along Miuri’s body again, he felt something even worse.

  A desire to take her, almost as strong as the desire to use more magic.

  It was primal, instinctual. It came from deep inside his guts. Whatever had infected him, whatever he had let inside his body was still within him, and it wanted him to take the beautiful Elf girl in front of him. He clenched his jaw and wrestled it back, but he felt it tearing him to pieces, screa
ming in his eyes, screaming in his face, making his mind race in pure, unfiltered madness.

  “You’re feeling it,” she said.

  He couldn’t answer. He only stared at her, his jaw clenched.

  “Oh, young Magi,” she whispered. Her hand came up and touched his cheek. “You saved my life. But you don’t know what you’ve done.”

  “I don’t…” He gasped, let out a grunt. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

  She smiled. “I think I do.”

  His eyes stared into hers. She seemed happy, almost pleased. She reached out and took his arm, helping him up to his feet. He should’ve been the one helping her, since he was the one that had just saved her life. He turned toward the battlefield, and saw the wolves beginning to thin out as they retreated away from the Elves. Her people were still fighting, but Cam’s battle line had regained their original position and was beginning to route the wolves faster.

  The field was strewn with piles of bodies. Human, wolf, and a few Elves littered the ground. The earth was stained red, and as he scanned the space, he saw even the stream was running pink with blood as it seeped across the ground.

  Wide swathes of land were burned black from where Cam had unleashed his magic. The wolves around him were nothing more than piles of charred ash. The air smelled like cooked meat, which made his stomach rumble and roil in circles, a sickening ashy delicious smell that horrified him.

  He let out another growl as whatever was happening to him hit all over again, coming in waves that threatened to knock him off his feet. Miuri tightened her grip on his arm and he felt her soft lips move against his ear.

  “I can help you,” she whispered.

  “How?” he asked. “Oh gods. It wants to tear me to pieces.”