“Your Majesty, er, I have a message for you,” Shah said. “There is a terrible battle at the isthmus. The Chosen are doing battle as we speak. It is all to do with—”
“Speak more quickly!” Ether said.
The shapeshifter pulled the cloth from a nearby table and gathered its ends into a sack. She rather unceremoniously dumped the immobilized fairies inside, then looked impatiently to Shah.
“I have to go back to them. I’ll tell you later. Er. Your Majesty,” she blurted.
Shah grabbed her own crystal and strapped it back into place, using the loops normally used to carry messages. She, Ether, and the improvised sack vanished from view once more, her empowered crystal now powerful enough to encompass the entire group in its stealthy magic. A final savage gust of wind whipped from the room.
The chaos, though brief, had left the room in an utter shambles. The food from the banquet was as much on the walls and ceiling as on the table. Nobles had been splattered with wine, their carefully selected outfits twisted and torn, their hair in disarray. Outside the door, guards still barked orders at one another, uncertain what had occurred and unconvinced the danger was over.
Mellawin took a moment to collect himself, then turned to Morrilyn. “I do believe you were passing judgment on my precautions regarding the danger from the north. By all means, continue.”
#
Deacon held tightly to the side of the golem’s head with both hands. His stylus and one of his books drifted beside him, awaiting the next moment it would need to be used. He’d been able to slow the golem a bit, thanks to the continuing rain keeping it soaked, and thus giving him something to freeze to foul its joints. That was the only thing he’d managed. His additional exposure to the golem and its enchantments had offered little in the way of additional insight into weaknesses or flaws. The obvious next step was to find out precisely what the tablet containing the instructions said, but that was more easily said than done. He could not see it himself—it was shielded against any potential mystical viewing—and while Freet could see it, he could not read. They had attempted to have Freet bring the stylus and a page inside to copy the symbols so Deacon could read them, but as soon as the paper contained any writing whatsoever, the same enchantment that rendered the tablet incapable of being removed did the same for the page. The only evident solution was turning out to be a time-consuming one.
“The next symbol please!” Deacon called.
“I’m looking. It is complicated!” Freet called from within.
A moment later the fairy darted out and carefully traced a few more lines.
“There, that is everything,” he said.
Deacon analyzed what Freet had transcribed. He’d been watching the message as it was assembled, but it was the first time Freet had ever written or drawn anything—and it showed. Even with all of the runes copied to the best of his ability, it was not immediately clear what the message was supposed to say.
“It is… well, it is definitely Ancient Dwarven. That last symbol is the symbol for ‘home,’” Deacon said. “I haven’t written anything in Ancient Dwarven in quite a while, but I think I can recall enough for some simple instructions.”
He shut his eyes, and the stylus plucked itself from Freet’s hands. The book turned to a fresh page, and the stylus traced out a far more precise sequence of runes.
“There. Stand still. Simple enough,” Deacon said. He pulled himself up to the slot, tore the page free, and slipped it inside.
“Did it work?” Freet said insistently.
The golem continued to thunder along.
“It appears it did not,” Deacon said.
He scrutinized the poorly transcribed order, trying to work out what it said. As he did, he thought aloud. “There are a thousand things that could prevent the golem from following a fresh order. Likely, it follows its instructions in some defined order, and it probably wouldn’t follow the next until it was through with the first…”
Freet glanced ahead. “We are close to the city, Deacon.”
“… If I were to design a mechanism of this sort, it would be simpler and safer to limit it to only a handful of known commands. I would also see to it that the golem would take some safe action if something goes wrong. Though, for a war machine, perhaps that would not have been preferable…”
“We don’t have much time, Deacon!” Freet urged.
“Little good can come from rushed thinking, Freet.”
“But no good at all can come from slow thinking that doesn’t get anything done.”
Deacon ignored the statement and continued to blink through the pouring rain at the page drifting before him.
“This… this looks like a number… or a rank. Freet, this line here. Did it look like this?”
The stylus darted up and scrawled a more precise shape beneath the one Freet had scratched down.
“Yes! Yes, it looks like that.”
“Edict One, Edict Two…” Deacon said. “I see. It has four commands. The last looks to be ‘Return Home,’ and the first is likely the instruction to walk to its target.”
“We already know what it was ordered to do!”
“I know. But now we know how it was ordered… I have an idea.”
With visible dismay, he willed over a dozen pages to tear free. His enchanted stylus moved in a blur, filling each page with writing within a few moments. Once both sides of a page were covered, he stuffed it through the slot in the golem’s head and began the next one. Freet looked anxiously from Deacon to the golem and back again.
“It isn’t stopping, Deacon. It isn’t working!”
“We won’t know if it will work until it seeks out its next command. Not until we reach the city.”
“But if it doesn’t work, then there won’t be any more time to try other things!”
“Then we shall simply need to devise a worthwhile contingency plan in the meantime.”
#
Myranda’s mind was stretched to the limit. If she’d not been trained in the ways of magic, she would have been dead moments after she and the others had attempted to evade Boviss. Knowing where he was wasn’t enough to know where he was going. Though he was but one creature, he was so large and moved with such deceiving speed that in the blink of an eye he could seem to be everywhere. Flame rained down from above. Wings curled around on either side. Claws slashed from the sides. Even the morning star of a tail swung up from below. Hasty shielding spells shattered, barely deflecting a blast of flame or a rake of claws. Garr did his best to distract and draw the attention of the beast, but now that Myranda was his sole target, he would not be swayed.
In the fleeting moments that she and Myn were not in imminent danger, she looked to the east, to the approaching golem. It would reach the edge of the city soon. Perhaps not long after they reached it. It had already trampled a section of the border wall and ignored the soldiers stationed there, leaving them far behind with its ponderous strides. At this distance, Deacon’s continuing efforts to destroy or delay the thing were more than apparent. It was layered with frost. Stout vines conjured from the earth cocooned its limbs. Flame had blackened and charred sections of it, and even radiant bands of pure energy flickered in and out of being in hopes of binding it. Still it labored on, barely slowed by all these efforts. That they continued unabated at least meant that Deacon still lived.
The icy drops of the rainstorm they had conjured stung Myranda as she and Myn swept along, rolling to avoid scything claws. She shut her eyes and reached out with her mind, seeking Deacon’s clear, sharp thoughts. They reached out in return, and his frazzled, fatigued voice echoed in her mind.
Are you hurt!? he asked.
Not yet… She narrowly diverted a blast of flame. But I cannot be certain I can keep ahead of this beast’s attacks. What of the golem?
Freet and I have devised a plan, and an admittedly rather drastic supplement should it fail, but I would be lying if I said my confidence in the success of either plan was very high. It is
fascinating how varied and potent the threats can be from one continent to—
Deacon, please.
Yes, of course. Thoughts for another time. How can I help?
The elder dragon is trying to kill me, under orders of the rider. The longer we can keep him focused on me, the better chance we’ll have of protecting the city. But Myn is tiring, and I can barely maintain focus.
I understand. A thought occurs, though I hesitate to suggest it. The risk is too—
I am intentionally keeping the attention of a predator the size of a fortress, Deacon.
Yes… Yes, I suppose the time for risk management is behind us as well.
Rather than putting the plan into words, Deacon’s thoughts wove with her own in the form of images and notions. It was a long shot, and an unwise one, but if it could be made to work, then it would be worth everything. She called out to Myn, swiftly and efficiently explaining the plan. The dragon huffed in acknowledgment.
Myn dropped low to the ground. Weaving between trees and swooping near enough to the hills to ruffle the blades of grass. She kicked her legs against the ground and dragged her claws to dodge attacks that now, at least, could not come from below. Without any altitude, they had precious little insight into what lay ahead, but the one thing they needed to be most mindful of could not be missed. The golem towered above all else in the area. In minutes it would reach the wall of the city. The thunder of its footsteps steadily boomed louder with their approach. By the time their plan was ready to be hatched, each calamitous stomp drowned out even the whistle of wind in their ears.
From here, timing was everything. Myn tucked her wings and switched from skimming flight to a frenzied sprint. Boviss overshot, but dug long furrows into the soil with his claws as he skidded to a stop and doubled back. The ground quaked with each pounding stomp. Their mad rush sent them across the packed-soil road leading to the town. Out of the corner of her eye, Myranda saw the town guard and its military supplement approaching. If this did not work, more innocent blood would be spilled. Myn darted left and right, for the first time in her life having to use the same tactics of those creatures she preyed upon during a hunt. Myranda judged the length of the golem’s stride and guided Myn, then put her mind to work fully on the task of working the spell, trusting Myn to keep her safe and do her part. Deacon, high atop the lumbering golem, united his will with hers. This spell would have to be swift and strong. Even with both of them working at it, she couldn’t be sure it would hold long enough.
The ground thumped one last time, the golem’s foot pulverizing the earth not a stone’s throw away. Myn turned, rushing directly across its path. Boviss followed. Myranda and Deacon struck. More stout vines split the ground beneath Myn, weaving upward as she rushed past. Boviss’s iron claw came down among the conjured thicket and was instantly ensnared. More vines shot up along his other leg, coiling tightly around his stout torso and thrashing neck. Deep roots pulled free as the dragon was brought to a sudden stop, but Myranda and Deacon conjured more. Boviss belched flame, roasting the vines, embrittling them. Another heavy step of the golem shook more of them free. The wizards redoubled their efforts, replacing each of the snapping, tearing bonds with a fresh one.
Realization dawned upon Boviss, but it was too late. As the golem took another step, the enormous, pendulous swing of its trailing leg struck the dragon’s head with a devastating kick. Huge and powerful though the dragon was, to the veritable mountain that was trudging across the landscape, he was nothing at all. The blow tore him free of the vines and threw him aside. Reyce tumbled from his back and rolled across the broken ground. The golem lumbered on, not a stumble or a pause to show for the impact. Boviss was barely moving at all, eyes unfocused, jaw slack.
Having seen the beast’s power, Myranda knew better than to believe the blow had killed him. It would have been best to take advantage of this moment, to make one final effort to permanently incapacitate him, but circumstances forbade it. The golem had reached the town. It had to be stopped. Nothing else mattered.
#
Ether and Shah, after making certain all of the fairy assassins had been gathered into the makeshift sack drifting along with them, had shifted all of their strength and effort to returning to the isthmus. Through Ether’s power, Shah’s training, and copious amounts of D’Karon magic, they had managed to dart and dash across nearly half the continent. During the return, Shah worked out how to end the stealth enchantment in the gem, allowing for still greater speed from the little D’Karon crystal. Few other beings could have achieved the task in weeks, let alone the relative blink of an eye that they had. Despite this, the greatest task, the task their friends still struggled with, lay ahead of them.
“We’re almost there!” Shah said breathlessly. “Wh-what do we do now, Ms. Ether?”
“I shall find the others and render aid. You should seek shelter. You have reached the end of your stamina.”
“N-no! I can still help!” she wheezed.
Ether squinted into the distance and felt the loathsome sting of more D’Karon magic. “Another portal has opened since we left…” she fumed. “I can feel it…”
“Where? From where? To where?” Shah asked.
Ether focused on the lingering sensation. “It opened where the golem first appeared…” She paused as she realized another sensation. “This needs to be dealt with.”
Even now, the golem was shambling through the outskirts of the city, and the elder dragon seemed to be motionless in a field to the north. Both would benefit from her attention, but this, perhaps, was more important. She blazed past the battlefield and onward along the path of destruction the golem had left behind. Not far from both the dragon’s dazed form and the edge of the city, sprinting as best she could over the broken earth, was Ivy.
Ether dropped down beside her. “Ivy, you should not be here,” the shapeshifter said.
“There’s a battle, isn’t there? We’re the Chosen aren’t we?” Ivy huffed, taking advantage of Ether’s arrival to take what was clearly a much-needed break.
Shah landed on Ivy’s shoulder and hugged her neck. “You are better!” the fairy trilled. “I am so glad!”
Ivy held out her hand, and Shah stepped onto it. The malthrope looked the fairy over in dismay. “What happened to you?”
“I helped Ms. Ether stop the assassins!” she said, glowing with pride.
Ether held out the sack. “They are here. Look after them, and Shah as well. There is no room in this battle for the weakened and infirm.”
“I’ve fought in worse condition than this, Ether,” Ivy said, a pathetic wisp of red aura flickering.
“And you were lucky to survive.” She looked to the south. “I don’t have time to argue. See to the fairies.”
Ether shifted to wind again and streaked into the sky.
#
Ivy blearily watched as Ether whisked away, then looked to the remnants of the city’s wall. The golem had crunched through as if the structure were made of twigs. Myranda, Deacon, Grustim, and the dragons had all turned their attention to the hulking stone behemoth, to little avail. If she were to attempt to aid them, she would only be a liability; that much Ether was right about. But she hadn’t come this far to stand idle while the others risked their lives. She set her eyes upon where the dazed dragon and the injured chieftain lay. Not far to the south of them, a small contingent of soldiers was approaching.
She shook her head and tried to gather her wits. There had to be something she could do. Her brain wasn’t ready to cooperate, so she chose instead to focus upon her heart. Ivy hurried to Reyce’s side and helped him to stand.
“You…” he murmured, face contorted in pain. “How…?”
“You of all people should know there are no limits to what you can and will do when the people you care about are in danger.” The sound of shattering stone and splintering wood split the air. “Reyce, this has gone far enough. You’ve got to call it all off.”
He coughed. “No. I can’t
. And I mustn’t. The golem will perform its task regardless of my desire or anyone else’s. The only way is forward. The mission is everything.”
“Open your eyes! Too many people know the truth. This won’t be some attack from enemies they don’t know. This will be an attack from the malthropes! You are killing our people. Marking us once and for all as the monsters they believed us to be!”
“The wasps will kill their leaders. The unseen soldiers will do the rest. They will know that to attack the malthropes is to invite death into their homes.”
“The wasps are here!” Ivy held out the sack. “And I don’t care how skilled they are or how much D’Karon magic they can use, the people you’ve sent out there won’t be coming home if you ask them to fight a whole kingdom alone.”
He raised his head to watch as the golem came to a stop at the first massive sculpted tree of the town.
“What is done is done. Now, it is in the hands of fate.”
“That is something you need to understand about us, Reyce.” She turned to watch her friends as they circled and assaulted the golem. “We are the Chosen. We are the hands of fate.”
#
Arrows sparked and clanked uselessly off the massive stone form as it leveled its smoldering eyes upon the towering tree the elves had crafted into their town hall. Ether arrived and immediately assaulted it with ice and wind. Its joints ground slowly, like the wheels of a mill. Its arms rose.
“We’ve got to do something!” Myranda called out from her place atop Myn. “It isn’t going to stop!”
“It may. I’ve done what I can,” Deacon called, still atop the golem’s head, a mystic shield raised to block errant arrows from hitting him and Freet. “Only time will tell if it will do any good. In the meantime, if my backup plan is going to work, I’ll need a pair of D’Karon crystals. I have the one we took from Nehri, but the plan won’t work without a pair.”
“Shah has one,” Ether called. “A small one taken from one of the assassins.”
“That will do!”
“I will fetch her!” Freet announced.
The Crescents Page 30
