by John Conroe
“They just crossed. I count thirty-one. Moving at like a fast jog,” I said.
He picked up his pace and I had to trigger my glyphs to get enough speed to catch up. The magic was so thick that I didn’t have to worry about the glyphs draining my reserves, at least not soon.
“Where’s Stacia?” he asked.
“About three-quarters of a mile ahead of us, coming at a trot.”
“STACIA—TURN AROUND. GOBLINS HEADED TO THE KILL!” he yelled, cupping his hands to help direct the shout. “Did she hear me?” he asked, moving at a fast human-level sprint. Apparently three-quarters of a mile through forest was the limit of his super hearing.
“She’s turned and headed back, so—yes,” I huffed, breathing hard but maintaining the sprint.
I could tell he wanted to go ahead but he stayed with me even when I told him to go on. “Not good tactics to get that split up. She’ll get back to him before the goblins get there, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, she’s moving faster than they are. So are we, unless they pick up speed,” I said.
We kept up the pace, which thankfully was mostly downhill, although the ground was rocky and uneven. My linked sense of the ground kept my feet falling on solid ground without my having to look, which was good, as the trail soon entered thick evergreens which made visibility tough. The minutes went by and I could feel us closing on ‘Sos and Stacia. I also felt something else.
“The goblins have picked up speed and now they’re running faster than we are,” I said. “Go on. There’s nothing behind us or to either side,” I said.
We heard a sudden roar—like only an enraged Kodiak can make. Chris gave me one last look and then just disappeared, the wind of his passage leaving tree boughs bobbing in his wake.
The last half mile was the hardest because I could feel the lead goblins arrive at the kill site and then I could hear Stacia’s roar mixed in with Awasos’s. The sounds of a fight came as I ran up a little hillock and when I crested the top, with steel death orbs floating about my shoulders, the battle lay spread out before me. Squatty, over-muscled, broken and torn goblin bodies lay everywhere, my link to the land telling me eleven were already down. Stacia was in her two-legged combat form, fighting two goblins at once, three torn and broken bodies behind her. Awasos was fighting five at once, his full Kodiak form more than up to the task at hand. Chris was standing just over the summit of the hill, frozen, watching the fighting.
I slammed to a stop behind him, fully aware that his coiled stance was Grim’s and not Chris’s.
He spoke without looking at me just as Stacia tore the throat out of one goblin. “It makes no sense,” he said, voice deep. “There is nowhere near enough of them.”
“Maybe they think they can flank them?” I asked. He just pointed at a group of three that were working around ‘Sos’s right side. Our bear suddenly spun and paw slapped the goblin between him and the new ones, then charged, roaring, straight in to the unlucky flankers. Two were down and bloody by the time the third could bound backward and upward, landing ten feet high on a tree trunk.
“No, there is no reason to attack such strong opponents,” he said.
One of Sos’s remaining four suddenly split off with a jump that cleared at least nine feet and put it on top of the dead stag carcass. With a snarl, it grabbed the antlered head and twisted, ripping it clear in one continuous motion. Then it jumped away from its fellows, bounding, headed south. Every goblin in the clearing turned almost as one and ran after the trophy carrier.
Awasos roared his rage at the violation of his kill. His body shifted on the fly as he leapt forward, giant bear becoming sleek wolf that vanished into the forest after the goblins.
“Shit!” Chris said, disappearing with a pop of displaced air. I scrambled down the hill, knowing I couldn’t keep up. Stacia, who could have met that pace, instead waited for me before plowing into the thick tree line.
We moved rapidly, following the clear trail of broken trees and torn ground, my giant werewolf escort just in front of me.
“They’re headed back to the border,” I said, trying to both feel the land and my footing. “There’s something there. Something I can’t quite get a sense of.”
She just growled and picked up the pace. I, on the other hand, stopped. After a second, so did she, turning to look at me with annoyed yellow eyes. I squatted and placed both hands on the ground. The border, a half mile ahead, was clearly marked by a distinct change from evergreen forest to lush green jungle, a rocky gully separating the two vegetative types.
The gully was a sometime streambed, the tricky kind that can be dry as a bone one moment and full of deadly rushing water the next. It was drainage for the mountains behind us, which unfortunately were currently bereft of the sort of storms that breed flash floods.
I couldn’t catch up, so they all needed to slow down. I pushed into the ground. A shudder greeted me. I pushed harder. The shudder became a rumble, then a full-fledged ground-shaking quake.
“Come on,” I said, standing and pushing forward past my now-curious werewolf girl. I was ahead for like four, maybe five seconds before she passed me, bounding with that deadly agility that comes naturally to unnatural shapeshifters.
Loud growls mixed with strange squeals came from just ahead and we picked up speed. Chris and ‘Sos came into view, their backs to us. Thirty feet away, facing them, were the surviving seventeen goblins, the vegetation at their backs thin and showing gaps lit brightly by the sun, the lot of them chittering, snarling, and squealing.
“They’re squadding up. Why?” Chris, or maybe rather Grim, asked.
“The gully behind them is a lot deeper than when they crossed into Middle Realm,” I said, earning myself a yellow-eyed stare from my werewolf. “What? I can’t run as fast as you speed freaks. Gotta work with what I have,” I said. She rolled her eyes. “Not any wider though. They might be able to leap it,” I said.
‘Sos chose that moment to change into his new third form, the long-legged hybrid of bear and wolf. Roaring, he charged the squatty thieves.
Six came straight at him, eight tried to leap the gorge, and the remaining three just hopped around looking undecided. Awasos tore into the counterattack, his right paw ripping across two goblins, his razor-sharp six-inch claws slicing through tough scaly skin and thick muscle like it was soft butter. Their bodies fell open as if they were wearing suits that unzipped. Even as their intestines dropped out in a gush of blue blood, he was in motion, his massive hybrid jaws snapping shut on another goblin’s arm, shearing through the bone in one simple snip. The remaining three leapt onto his back and sides, claws ripping at his thick fur.
I guess I expected Chris to go batshit crazy on them but he simply blurred past the fight, heading for the undecided three. He must have done something, though, because the middle goblin on ‘Sos’s back suddenly fell into two pieces, blue ichor oozing from the surgically cut body parts.
‘Sos fell on his side and rolled, crushing one clinger under a solid ton of were-bear-wolf. The other leapt backward and was caught in Stacia’s massive white arms, her teeth instantly buried in its neck.
Of the three on the edge, two jumped into the gorge and the third died as Grim arrived in a rush of air, his left arm just suddenly protruding from its back.
I moved around the two massive predators who were still worrying at their very-dead victims, and joined Grim at the mini-canyon’s edge. I had exceeded my own expectations.
What had been a gully with a dry river bottom eight feet below the lip was now a sharply cut gorge dropping almost thirty feet in a deep V. Two goblins clung to the far wall of the canyon, scrabbling at the loose rock. One stood atop the other side, chittering encouragement at its companions, and the rest were at the bottom, trying to leap high enough up the side to get a foothold.
Big fur suddenly pressed on my right and left sides, one set tan and black, the other snowy white. ‘Sos growled as he locked onto one of the goblins at the bottom, the one holding th
e stag’s bloody head by an antler. I heard a whisper of sound and then ‘Sos grunted. I turned to see a tiny clear arrow sticking out of his forehead. It looked like a plastic child’s arrow. Without thinking, I reached over and knocked it clear, only to hear another swish and suddenly see a crystal mini arrow sticking out of my arm. I didn’t feel a damn thing from the wound but then, abruptly I couldn’t feel anything at all—anywhere. It was a race to see if my knees would buckle or if I’d just timber over backward. My knees won, folding and dropping me down a foot and half in height. Another whistle sounded and something shiny went zipping past overhead.
I couldn’t move but I could still call magic and my shields jumped into place, freezing two more arrows six inches from my chest. Chris looked at me, snorted, and reached casually under his field vest, pulling out a big black handgun. It fired immediately, shots running together into one ripping sound, shiny cartridge casings arcing up into the sunlight in a stream.
The slide locked back and he immediately, expertly, reloaded as I heard bodies falling out of the jungle on the far side and into the cut. Then I keeled over backward, the sky suddenly visible, a giant bird or something flying high above. I heard my head hit something hard, saw a flash of light, and then it was all dark.
After a bit, it came to me that I was in a room. No, a cave. Water dripped somewhere nearby and each drip echoed. But it was all blackness. No wait, there was a glow—an orange glow, coming from my left. My eyes must have adjusted because the glow seemed to grow brighter and I could make out the low roof of the cave and the curving walls. Massive lumps of stone surrounded me and the orange glow was coming from one of them. It brightened further and now I could make out the reflective surface of a pool of water, ripples spreading out from the latest drop of falling seepage.
I felt no pain and seemed able to move. Air swirled across my face, cool and damp, but I was neither cold nor hot. Putting one hand on the lump of rock to my right, I pulled myself upright. The lump moved. I jumped.
-Be Still-
Did I hear that or think it? The words were a deep rumble.
-You Are Not In Your Restful State-
Okay, what the hell was that? It came from my immediate right, almost a vibration that I felt rather than heard.
-Are These Not Your Accepted Symbols Of Ideas?-
“You mean words? Language?” I said, speaking out loud into the darkness.
-Correct-
“Yes, yes they are. Who am I… speaking with?”
The next set came booming from off to my left. -CONVERSATION WITH THIS LAND-
That came from the glowing orange lump that was lighting the cave. It had a louder, more direct tone.
“You are Middle Realm?”
-Correct. Of Realm- That was from the rock on my right.
“Of realm? You represent Middle Realm? You speak for the land?”
-CORRECT- the orange glow lump said, brightening momentarily. It reminded me of something. Something really, really dangerous. I had a flash of memory followed by insight.
“Volcano! Rock! Water and air,” I said.
-Correct- This from the lump of stone on my right.
“Are you the same, er, ah… voices of the land that asked me to claim it?”
-CORRECT- volcano said, glowing brighter.
“You’re not really the land, are you? You are elementals tied to the land, right?” I guessed.
-Words. Simple Words- rocky said.
-Essentially Correct- bubbled the pool of water.
“Are you the only elementals in this entire realm?”
-CHOSEN-
-We Represent-
“Okay, you’re the spokes-elementals for the rest. Why and how are we talking?”
-You Rest Without Resting- the pool gurgled. I wondered if its speech would make me have to pee. Oh wait, I was dreaming.
“I’m unconscious? From the arrow?”
-Correct- rocky said. -Opportunity. Convey Smartness-
“Smartness? Oh, intelligence? You have information to tell me?”
-CORRECT- volcano said, somehow sounding impatient.
“Wait. Do the other realms have conversations with the queens?”
-Most Gone- rocky said.
“Most are gone? Most of the elementals are gone?”
-CORRECT- volcano said, conveying a that’s what we said, you idiot in its tone.
“Gone as in they left, or gone in that the queens killed them?”
-Used Them- rocky said.
-Drained Them- burbled the pool.
-SSSStole TTThem AAAway- whispered a new voice from the cool swirling air in front and around me.
“You’re telling me that the queens somehow used up their lands’ elementals? They, what? Drained away their power? How is that possible?”
-TIME- lava boy said, a flash of brighter, lighter orange rolling down its surface.
-Time And Use- rocky said. The brighter light gleamed off little crystals stuck in its structure.
“So they used up entire elementals? For what?”
-Conflict-
-BATTLE-
-Competition-
-Ssssurrvival -
“So you’re warning me not to do the same?” I guessed.
-You Do Not Have The Time- rocky said.
-Weakness- water gushed.
-OPPORTUNITY- volcano ground out.
-Aaaaddvantagee- swished across my face.
I had no words for a few seconds while I thought through those four mostly single word statements.
“So they fought for eons and wore away their realms’ elementals. I won’t live long enough to do the same to you and this is somehow a benefit against them?”
-Only Largest remain- rocky said. -Tired-
-Win them- the water trickled.
Win them? Like a contest? No, like a sales pitch.
“You think I can what? Convince the oldest elementals in each realm to come over to my side?”
-Negative. Leave Their Side.-
Shifting about, I suddenly felt the hard rock of the cave under my bare ass. Bare ass? I looked down. Naked. Great. Meeting with the most powerful elementals of the land and I was buck ass naked. I looked back up but the cave was dimmer, misty, fading somehow. Then it was just simply gone.
Chapter 10
I woke up slowly, eyes closed, Stacia’s scent tickling my nose, soft lips on mine. Opening my lids, I stared straight up into green-eyed heaven. “Ah, hi?”
“You’re back,” she said, leaning over me, her hair forming a draping curtain around my face. My head was warm and well cushioned. Ah, her lap.
“How do you feel?” Chris asked from outside our private face space.
I took stock of my situation. “Not bad. Not bad at all. I got arrowed, right?” I asked as the platinum curtain pulled back and the walls and ceiling of the portal cave were revealed along with a standing Chris. He poured a metal mug of water and handed it to Stacia. I sat up, helped along by her other arm, before sipping the water.
“You got arrowed, paralyzed, fell down, and hit your head. Chris donated a couple drops of blood and now you are back among the living,” Stacia said, smiling tightly. “Took longer than we thought it would.”
“I had an amazing dream, which I don’t think was a dream,” I said. Explaining the… experience took longer than it should have. It was just so hard to put into words.
“You spoke with a lump of rock and a lump of lava and a pool of water?” Stacia asked, not necessarily in disbelief but definitely concerned. “How hard did you hit your head?”
“It’s actually not the first time,” Chris said.
“That he hit his head?” Stacia asked.
“No, well, yes to that too, but what I meant is that the two of us spoke with a volcano—out West,” he said.
“These spoke words—in English. No translator,” I said.
“Well, they spoke directly to your mind. Nika would tell you that translations aren’t necessary in mind-to-mind comm
unication. She always understands the mind that she’s reading despite any differences in language,” Chris said.
“How does that work?” Stacia asked.
“No idea. Despite the fact that we think in words in our own language, the thoughts themselves seem to be universal from human to human,” he said. “Again, no idea why.”
“So slowpoke here didn’t dodge or shield from an arrow and the toxins sent him into a mental state where the elementals of this realm could talk to him?” she asked.
