by Franc Ingram
Try as he might, Leith couldn’t force himself to go one step forward without making sure the others were okay. Then he heard Lorn’s desperate call and his choice was made. White-knuckling the reigns in his hand, Leith forced his mare to turn around and head back. Coming from behind, Leith could see Lorn at the center of the field. The boy didn’t look so good. He wobbled atop his horse, but whatever he did knocked the yetis flat.
Coming up on the cart, Leith trotted right into a fight. Tycho tumbled off the cart backwards, Tannin atop him. Leith swung wide to keep from trampling them. Leaving fear behind, Leith slid off his horse and pulled his dagger free in one smooth motion, running toward the tangle of limbs and fur.
Tycho used the momentum of his fall to propel Tannin up and over him. Tannin showed off his quick reflexes and acrobatic skills, tucking his body into a ball and coming up on his feet with inhuman speed. Leith pulled up short, looking the multiform in the face. Tannin looked at Leith’s dagger and smiled.
“Come to give me the other one?” Tannin said.
Not in the mood for chatting, Leith charged forward. He brought his dagger down in a cross body swing. Tannin blocked, catching the blade across the back of his arm. The multiform pushed with both hands against Leith’s chest, claws piercing the layer of woolen sweater and scraping against flesh, lifting Leith off the ground and throwing him back.
Leith took the short flight in stride, bending his knees as he came down, not losing his balance. Tycho attacked Tannin from behind, keeping the multiform from advancing. The twin axes slashing across the back, one after the other. Leith ran into the melee as soon as Tannin’s back was to him.
In an underhanded hold, Leith swung hard at Tannin’s neck, but the multiform was fast. He had Tycho’s axe in one hand, and managed to push Leith’s blow away with the other. Leith caught Tycho’s gaze. A silent thanks, and encouragement to push forward, passed between them.
Tycho yelled, and swung forward with both axes. Leith got close to Tannin and ducked low, avoiding the heavy-handed blow and barreling into Tannin’s legs forcing him off balance. Tannin pirouetted like a reed in the wind, catching the axe blade along his side instead of his chest as intended. Leith felt the spray of blood across his cheek, wet and sticky.
With Tannin no longer between them Leith stumbled toward Tycho, but the big man was planted firmly, solid as the wall around Solon. Tycho offered him a hand up while keeping one axe up, and ready to defend.
“You might want to rethink your attack,” Tycho said to Tannin. “Looks like the odds have shifted out of your favor.”
Leith stood and stared Tannin down. Patches of his once pristine gray-white fur now splotched with the dark crimson of his own blood. His mouth was open in a toothy snarl as he sucked in breath like a man with black lung. Leith pulled his shoulders back and locked his knees to make it look like he was on sure ground, but his legs were burning, and his chest felt on fire where Tannin’s claws had dug in. Even his dagger felt heavy in his hand.
Tannin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You underestimate my resolve.”
Part of Leith broke at the look of confidence that spread across Tannin’s face. He hoped the multiform would once again take off, hoping to fight another day. Leith stole a glance at Tycho. The big man was bruised about his face, his lip was split and blood trickled down the back of his head into his shirt. His right arm was slashed up, the sleeve hanging in ribbons around the bloody skin. Still he held his axe up, though Leith could tell it was by force of his impressive will.
Tannin shivered. His whole body vibrating. Leith thought the multiform was succumbing to the blood loss, but when he looked closer it became clear that Tannin was healing. The jagged gash cutting across his side from Tycho’s axe had stopped bleeding and was fading from an angry red to a more gentle, warm pink. It would still take time, but the wound would heal in less than a quarter of the time it would take Leith.
“Wishing you had kept going now boy?” Tycho asked Leith, amusement in his tone.
“This funny to you?”
“Always thought I’d die for one of the Heirs, never thought it would take this long.”
Tannin didn’t give Leith time to respond. The multiform ran at them, claws extended to a terrifying length. Leith took in a steadying deep breath, and pushed off Tycho, letting Tannin run in between them.
Leith leaned back on his right foot, kicking out with his left, but the blow fell short when Leith’s world was set on fire, as his back felt like he’d landed on a bed of glass. He stumbled forward onto his knees and had to tuck and roll to keep from knocking against Tycho once again.
Leith rolled over on his back in time to see the yeti that attacked him. Most of its fur was scorched black. Its right eye was ruined, and its mouth hung open in a gruesome half smile, but it was strong and angry, and that made for a dangerous combination.
Leith brought both of his feet up to keep the yeti from landing on his chest. The beast seemed to move mindlessly, slashing wildly with claws and teeth. Leith was forced to expend most of his energy just keeping the thing away from his face, and chest. His back screamed with every movement. He really wished Oleana, and her twin sais, would show up soon and save him once again.
Running out of strength and patience, Leith freed up one foot to kick the beast in its face, focusing on the ruined side. He kicked again and again, as hard as his fatigued muscles would allow. The beast howled and reached for his attacking foot. It took the pressure off Leith, giving him enough space to roll to the side and get out from under the angry bulk of the yeti. He leaped up and came around, jumping on the beast's back before it could react.
Leith stabbed at its neck but the burnt, matted fur acted like a leather shield. In his fury, Leith stabbed at it again and again, ignoring the furious claws that tried to rip the skin off his fast moving arms. Blood spurted his face spurring him on to plunge harder, faster, until the creature’s fight died and it slumped to the ground taking him with it.
Dagger still clutched in his hand, Leith straddled the beast as the heat went out of it. His lungs burned and he didn’t know if he had the strength to stand, much less fight anymore, but no matter how bad the yeti was, Tannin was worse, and he couldn’t leave Tycho to fight him alone.
Leith pulled his weapon free of the yeti’s neck, pulled his feet up under him, and wiped the blood from his face, determined to put Tannin down as he had the yeti.
Lorn was out in the field, having to deal with two other yetis who’d found their feet after the initial strike. To Leith it looked like the boy was holding his own well enough. Tycho on the other hand was backed against the side of the cart, blood dripping from multiple wounds. One of his axes lay several feet away. How the man was still standing Leith didn’t know, but the look of calm reserve on his face spoke volumes.
In a backhanded swipe, Tannin knocked Tycho to the ground. Leith rushed in, sliding between Tannin and the fallen Tycho, jabbing his dagger up into the multiform’s ribs. The blade scraped against bone.
Leith knew it was a good hit, but he paid for it. Tannin’s curved claws dragged across Leith’s chest, tearing through flesh and muscle. He fell backwards over Tycho’s prone body, landing flat on his back, staring up into the cloudless sky. His body refused to let him inhale deeply enough to satisfy his need for air. Leith briefly wondered if being the hero was really worth all the pain.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: DESTRUCTION
Oleana saw carnage everywhere. Spotting Leith and Tycho crumbled on the ground put Oleana’s heart in her mouth. She found it hard to breath around the lump of fear in her throat. All of that went away when her eyes locked on Lorn’s. He was backed up against a line of trees with Tannin in front of him, and two mangled yetis on either side.
A level of panic that she’d never felt before bombarded every cell of Oleana’s body. She simultaneously wanted to run screaming into Tannin, and run away, pretending none of it was happening. Instead, she was rooted to the spot, her body no longer
under her control. Only the horse’s desire to keep moving forward kept her on the move.
“Tannin,” she half yelled, half begged. “Please.” Hot tears poured down her cheek.
Tannin stopped his advance on Lorn and slowly turned, as if he was fighting it all the way. “You insignificant prick, I’ll crush you,” Tannin said, spittle dripping from his fangs.
Oleana’s world exploded. She didn’t see Tannin anymore, she heard him. Her fear and desperation kicked her power into overdrive, and Oleana felt the same rush of understanding she always got in that interval before connecting with the Twelve. The world was opened up to her, and more than that, she knew how to manipulate it to her will.
Tannin’s bio signal had a surprisingly chaotic, fast-paced rhythm to it, like two high-energy items had been smashed together, forming an uneasy union. Oleana grabbed hold of it, put her digital fingers in the midst of it and squeezed. She opened her mouth wide and let out a noise that only her ears could hear but more importantly, Tannin’s body felt.
Oleana shut off the electrical impulses coursing through Tannin’s body like flipping a switch. It was s temporary measure, a slight interruption, but enough to keep his brain from firing, his heart from pumping, and his lungs from expanding. Tannin collapsed in a useless heap, his light blue eyes staring up at the sky with panic etched into his pupils.
Oleana kicked a limp Tannin out of the way and held her hand out to her son, scooping him up on the run. Terrified yetis scattered in her wake. “Hold on,” she told Lorn in an urgent whisper.
Oleana wanted to whisk him back to the city and as far away from danger as she could get, but she couldn’t leave Leith and Tycho. Oleana couldn’t lead Tannin and the yetis back into the city either. Instead she took a wild circle back toward the cart, leaving the remaining yetis pawing at Tannin who, for the moment, was frozen in place. “Lysander,” she yelled to the boy, “this is your chance to prove you’re the Master of Earth. This is your element, use it.”
Lysander had dismounted and was crouched over Tycho checking for a pulse. Oleana didn’t need to check to know Leith was still alive, but the pain in her joints told her he his life ebbed away with every beat of his heart.
“Why do with some fancy power, when I can do so much more with a sword and confidence?”
“Three of them, two of us, and we can’t both fight, and protect them,” she said pointing at Tycho, “Tannin won’t go down easy. Trust me, I’ve tried.” Oleana looked over at the multiform, who was stretching. He’d broken free of her power already. “Choose,” she ordered.
Lysander stood and looked, his hand still gripped tight to his sword. Oleana knew she would regret it, but she couldn’t resist giving Lysander a push in the right direction. She placed her hand at the nap of his neck tapping into part of him that made him ‘other,’ and setting it on fire.
“Mom,” Lorn groaned.
Oleana pulled her hand back but Lysander was already lit up like a candle factory. He turned to her, his gray eyes unfocused, seeing into her, reading her genetic building blocks like another book in his father’s library.
Oleana pointed to the approaching Tannin, “Get them,” she ordered in a low growl, her voice boring into his mind.
Oleana had never used her override ability on one of the Heirs before. The idea of taking over another human being scared her. If she hadn’t been so desperate she wouldn’t have tried it on Lysander, but seeing it in action she wondered if she should rethink her stance.
Lysander strode out to meet Tannin, and his trailing yetis. With a calm confidence that looked reckless given the state of his companions. Behind and beside him, the grass shot up five feet as he stepped past. Flowers grew stems the size of Tycho’s arms, and blades of grass took on the shape of the sword still clutched in Lysander’s hand, left forgotten at his side. The ground itself trembled as Lysander passed.
Tannin pulled up short, the look of shock visible from Oleana’s position. With a flick of his wrist, Lysander thrust a section of grass at the yetis. Tannin crouched low, putting his arm up to block his face, as his brothers were cut to ribbons.
When the first attack was over, Tannin was up and running. Lysander moved faster, sending in his army of man-sized flowers to wrap the multiform in a vice grip. Oleana heard bone break as the stems coiled around and around Tannin’s body. He started to shake. Tannin was trying to transform, but the vines responded quickly to the changes in his shape. Tannin didn’t finish the form alteration before he collapsed upon a bed of the mutant grass, the distinct sound of cracking bones filled the air.
Oleana tried to move closer to Lysander, do what she could to calm him, but the grass was so high and thick she couldn’t get her horse through it. “Lysander,” she called.
The young man turned toward her. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something. Instead his eyes rolled to the side, his breathing became short and labored. Lysander’s hands curled inward and he crumbled to the ground, snorting and gasping for breath.
“Lysander!” she screamed.
The grass and plants shrunk back to their normal size, giving Oleana a clear view of the violent seizure Lysander was caught in. His head was tilted back at a painful looking angle. His arms twitched rapidly as he beat against his own chest.
“Lorn, here take these,” Oleana said, handing her son the reigns before sliding off the horse and running to Lysander’s side. She managed to leverage him onto his side. At a loss for what else to do, she just rubbed his back and spoke soothingly to him. “I’m sorry. Hold on. Hold on. You’re going to be all right.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: AFTREMATH
Cornelius could feel the dying ember of his son’s life ebbing away like a dead spot in his chest, black and numb, and growing. Tannin must have caught up with the Heirs. No one else could present such a threat to Tannin. Cornelius wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to confront the guardian and her charges yet. The clash with Daycia took a large toll on him. The left side of his face was still covered in frost to aid healing. That wasn’t going to keep him from going to rescue his son, the only person in this world he cared about.
Cornelius whipped up a cold front to ride into the outskirts of Central City. When his feet hit solid ground, he heard the whimpering of a mangled yeti. He shot ice into its nose, giving it a quick death, and walking away without a second thought.
Tannin was crumpled amidst a pile of shriveled vines, his body contorted like a pretzel. His limbs were twisted up among the vines still wrapped around him, thorns the size of Cornelius’ pinky finger buried in his son’s skin.
Cornelius frozen them and ripped the vines off his son. He desperately searched for any sign of breathing. Tannin’s chest rose and fell in slow ragged gasps. His eyes fluttered behind heavy lids, and blood oozed lazily out of the many puncture wounds along his limbs and torso.
Cornelius fell to his knees scooping his son into his lap, rocking back and forth, his mind chaotic, swirling with what he could do. “Tannin, you fool, how could you let this happen? I told you to find them, not fight them,” he groaned the words, covering his son with himself.
Tannin made no response to his father’s words. Cornelius spent decades building plans on top of plans, plotting and scheming ways to get back in control, but all of that lay dying in his arms. For the first time in a long time he felt something new, grief. Anger, frustration, even fear were all old friends, but never before had Cornelius cared about someone else enough to grieve their loss.
He wasn’t ready to let go just yet. He couldn’t let that be the end of Tannin, his son, his most prized possession. Cornelius turned to the only other constant in his life to save his son, the cold that he was designed to manipulate.
Cornelius straighten out the twisted form of his son as gently as he could manage. He made sure every scrap of vine and dried leaves was cleared from around him. Cornelius would freeze his son, let his body heal itself over time. “Hold on,” he ordered his son.
Placing his hands on
his son’s chest, Cornelius felt the vibrations of every cell in the boy’s body, like a million ants crawling against his skin. But those ants were drones he could order around. He could make them dance to his will.
Every atom vibrated at its own rhythm, and Cornelius used his own biological rhythm to counteract them. He slowed Tannin’s body processes down to a crawl. The multiform’s heart beat at one beat per minute, his blood moved like tar through his veins. His son was saved, or at least his dying was slowed. Cornelius would carry his son to safety, then he would unleash every ounce of anger his considerable form could hold on the Heirs of Eternity.
100101
Leith was barely hanging on to life, infection raging through his body. Lorn was so exhausted the doctors insisted he needed two days of bed rest. Tycho and Lysander both had their own injuries to recover from. Oleana couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking - she’d overused her abilities, and her body was paying the price; so she decided to steady them with liquor she’d pilfered from Nadir’s office.
The other three Heirs of Eternity were safely tucked away in their various rooms in the medical wing of the Residence, while Oleana watched the sun set on the roof of its greenhouse. She felt light and gooey at the center by the time she heard footsteps on the roof behind her. The lightness of her breakfast was only remembered after her head started to spin.
Now with an orange-red sky in front of her, Oleana was pleased to have company for safety reasons. She was perched dangerously close to the edge, but didn’t want her good mood spoiled. She waited until the person was right beside her to turn and see who it was.
