by Isaac Hooke
Malem grinned.
But one of the gobling mages raised a hand and shouted something before the line of monsters could reorient entirely. The words that reached Garibaldi’s ears were harsh, unintelligible.
Only a small portion of the gobling search party pursued the dogs, while the remainder continued west, spread out in their long line.
“Well, it was a good attempt,” Ziatrice said. Kneeling beside him, she rubbed his thigh in a consoling fashion.
When the rubbing didn’t stop, and instead switched from consoling to arousing, he gave her a warning look.
She promptly removed her hand. “I know, later.”
Malem instructed the dogs to continue running north, and as far as he could tell they were going to obey even after he released them. So, he set them free and then Broke the ettin again, returning Eddy to the five freed slots in his mind.
He took some stamina from the other monsters to compensate for the slight weakness he felt, and straightened as it flowed inside.
Next, he reached out toward the bigger presence he felt, which was still beyond Garibaldi’s sight. He tried to conquer that presence before he even knew what it was, but his will evaporated from it upon touch, unsurprisingly.
In the meantime, he tried to Break the two gobling mages. Unsurprisingly, their wills were just as intractable as the larger creature’s.
He wrapped his will experimentally around the lesser goblings, searching for the weaker-minded among them. There were surprisingly few compared to the typical number he’d find in a similar population of oraks. There was no point in Breaking any of them, considering that each gobling would need at minimum two slots, and he had none left at the moment.
He sensed the bigger, powerful creature closing with the eagle’s position. In a few more seconds he’d know what it was.
Suddenly he lost his connection to Garibaldi and the view went black. He felt that mental boomerang that came with a severed connection, along with the stamina drain. Though the vitality loss was minor compared to losing a bigger animal such as a hill giant, he still gasped from the unexpectedness of it.
“What happened?” Ziatrice said.
“A gobling must have struck my eagle with a crossbow bolt,” he said.
He reached out, searching for more potential animals to serve as his eyes and ears. There… a songbird. He ordered it into position. He flew it over the long line of approaching goblings, but once again, just before reaching the spot where Malem thought the powerful creature resided, the connection blanked and stamina drained away.
“Damn it,” he said. “Those goblings really don’t want anything getting close to their prize.”
He drained some stamina from Hansel just to keep his levels topped up, and decided to take a rest from Breaking for a while.
“Did you see it yet?” Xaxia asked. “The bigger monster?”
“Nope.”
“Maybe it’s a dragon,” Gwen said. “Then again, a dragon would probably be flying.”
Abigail glanced at her. “There are wingless dragons…”
In a short time, he spotted the outer edge of the goblings as their search line roamed this way. Their movements were slow, precise, and designed to make as little noise as possible.
“If there’s a dragon with them, it’s sure padding softly,” Gwen commented in a hushed voice.
The goblings scanned the forest around them intently as they walked. It was no wonder they shot down the birds so easily: anything out in the open would be readily spotted. Which made him worry his bigger monsters weren’t camouflaged enough, especially considering the closest gobling would pass within ten yards of Frank. Gretel was the second closest, perched in the tree next to the ogre.
And then he lost his connection to Frank.
Malem slumped over, feeling the stamina drain from the boomerang effect greatly.
“Is it just me, or does Frank look grayer than usual?” Xaxia asked; she was peering around the opposite side of the tree.
Malem glanced up and leaned past the trunk to gaze toward where Frank had been hiding. The ogre remained exactly where Malem had left the monster. It lay motionless, and indeed looked grayer. In fact, its entire body, the loincloth included, had become the color of slate.
Gwen launched an experimental arrow. It struck the ogre in the back, and bounced away with the tip blunted.
Frank had turned to stone.
A high-pitched screeching came from somewhere amidst the gobling line. It sounded almost like a boiling kettle mixed with a dragon’s roar.
The goblings perked up as one, and then swarmed south, toward where Malem and the others were hiding. They were headed toward Frank, actually. But they’d find Malem and the other monsters soon enough.
The goblings began to hoot and howl with excitement as they approached. Malem was reminded of the night he had come to this forest to die: it was mostly goblings who had answered his call, then; goblings who had chased and harried him until he had narrowly escaped with his life.
But I’m slightly more powerful than I was then.
He ordered Gretel to launch its tentacles as the goblings neared. The ghrip unfurled its long appendages on cue and wrapped them around different goblings, pulling them toward its open beak…
But then Gretel turned to stone as well.
12
“What the hell?” Malem said, staggering as three more slots freed up in his head.
The roaring screech came again. Closer.
“I recognize that sound…” Ziatrice said. “It’s a basilisk! Its gaze will turn you to stone. And if not its gaze, then a single inhale of the noxious miasma that surrounds it! We can’t fight this. Run!”
He decided to listen to the night elf, considering that she had once been a Black Sword, one of Vorgon’s top generals, and was essentially the most powerful among his little group. Other than himself.
“We run!” he shouted.
He and the others turned tail and ran. He ordered the monsters to follow, giving them specific orders not to look in the direction where the goblings were coming from.
Hansel and Eddy arose, turning away from the incoming attackers. The ettin scooped up Abigail in one hand and Weyanna the other and set them down safely on opposing shoulders. Then the monster ran.
Meanwhile Hansel smashed through any trees in its path, and flung its tentacles at any goblings that tried to run past it.
Malem broke four of the weaker goblings as he fled, and as he had guessed, they used two slots each. He had them hew down their companions and sow confusion. When he sensed injuries among them, he crushed their minds, killing them himself before they were slain, and took their stamina back. As usual, each successive kill gave him less of a vitality boost.
He shared his beast sense with Abigail and Ziatrice, in case they wanted to target the pursuers with their magic. But they did not attack. Probably a wise course of action, considering that targeting via sense alone was a difficult task; in the past, they used the sense along with their vision to pinpoint enemies they wanted to attack. So he didn’t blame them for not trying.
Xaxia was running next to him on the right. “How are the goblings with it not turning to stone?”
“Either they’re not looking at it, and they’re far enough away from its miasma, or it’s able to exclude them somehow from the deadly transformation,” Malem told her.
“How is this different than black dragons we’ve fought?” Gwen said from his left.
Ziatrice, running beside her, answered. “It’s worse than meeting the eye of a black dragon, because in that case you’re only paralyzed, and it can be reversed. But when you meet the eye of a basilisk, you turn to stone. You’re dead. Instantly. There’s no coming back.”
“What does a basilisk actually look like?” Xaxia asked. “Assuming you’ve actually seen one?”
“Only from afar,” Ziatrice replied. “And always from behind. But if memory serves, they’re essentially wingless dragons capable of sta
nding on their hind legs, but prefer walking on all four. Oh, and they have the head of a hawk.”
“A hawk?” Malem asked.
“That’s right,” she said. “Complete with razor sharp beak. Oh, and it’s huge. About the same size as your princess here in dragon form.”
He decided to take a look for himself, so he Broke more of the weaker goblings as he retreated and turned them back to confront this basilisk of theirs. He was a bit worried that even remotely viewing the monster would turn him to stone. So it was with more than some trepidation that he overlaid the viewpoint of one of the goblings across the upper half of his vision, leaving the lower half free so that he could see well enough not to trip on anything while on the run, and finally he saw the fabled creature.
He was relieved when he didn’t turn to stone.
Ziatrice had been right when she said it looked like a wingless dragon. Its upper body was covered in brown feathers, while its four legs shimmered with dark green scales. It had a long, feathery tail. Its neck was short, and basically non-existent. Instead, topping the front of its body was a head that was definitely avian-like. He wouldn’t say it resembled a hawk… it was closer to a chicken than anything else. An angry chicken.
The basilisk ran on all four legs. It’s webbed feet probably made great padding, which would partially explain why he couldn’t hear its heavy footfalls. It was surrounded by a green mist that quickly dissipated the further one got from its hide.
When the four goblings under his control didn’t turn to stone, he realized that yes, the basilisk could exclude certain targets. At least from its deadly gaze.
He promptly ordered them to attack the basilisk. He didn’t know what weaknesses such a creature might have, but if it was anything like a dragon, even its underbelly would be covered in thick hide that was impenetrable to most weapons, especially those measly short swords the gobling’s possessed. Still, he had to try.
He kept switching his attention between the gobling’s vision and his own, to make sure he didn’t run into a tree or trip on something like an exposed root. And by doing so, he was able to watch as the four under his command slowed their paces to run alongside the basilisk: they were trying not to make it too obvious they planned to attack.
And then the four leaped at the creature with swords bared. One of them fired its crossbow, targeting its eyes.
The connections severed one by one as the sword-wielding goblings struck the miasma that coated the basilisk in rapid succession. As for the crossbow user, the basilisk casually swiveled its head toward the gobling, as if regarding an ant. The final link snapped as the basilisk canceled whatever gaze exclusion it had laid upon the gobling, obviously turning it to stone.
Malem lurched from the loss of vitality as he ran, but managed not to flag too badly. He leached stamina from Hansel and Eddy to make up for the loss.
And then barriers of rock thrust from the ground between the trees, blocking their path.
“The hell?” Gwen said. “Is that the basilisk?”
“No,” Ziatrice said. “The mages.”
They were forced to circumnavigate the stone walls—the barriers were too tall to leap over, and would take too long to climb, not with the goblings fast on their tails.
Once they were past, Malem allowed Hansel to take the lead so that the ghrip could smash any more walls that might form. But the enemy mages simply formed the next walls behind the ghrip. Malem sent Eddy forward, and the ettin barreled through, forming a path.
“We don’t have to worry about them hurling rocks our way?” Malem asked Ziatrice. He was beginning to pant from the exertion.
“They can cause rocks to rise from the ground, like this,” the night elf replied. “But they can’t actually hurl them as far as I know. I could be wrong.”
His beast sense told him the basilisk was staying back. The big creature could have easily rushed the team, but it seemed content to allow the goblings to harry them, first. Perhaps Mauritania had instructed the goblings to capture him alive. That seemed doubtful, given the presence of the basilisk: if she wanted him alive, she would’ve prohibited the goblings from taking the powerful creature with them.
As he became further winded, Malem decided it was high time to hitch a ride on Hansel. He didn’t have the monster stamina of Gwen after all, and he didn’t want to keep draining stamina from those who served him. So instead he had the bull slow, and then as he and the others ran alongside, he instructed Hansel to scoop them up.
“Hang tight, we’re hitching a ride!” he told the others.
Hansel flung out its side tentacles and grabbed him, Gwen, Rathamias, Xaxia and Ziatrice. It continued fleeing the whole time. As it lifted them into the air, the creature did its best to shield him and the others from the different branches its passage broke away around them.
“It’s like riding in an air balloon!” Rathamias exclaimed.
“Like you’d know, orak!” Gwen said.
“We invented air balloons, gobling!” Rathamias told her.
He told Eddy and Hansel to switch to their maximum speeds, and the pair quickly began pulling ahead of the pursuers. So far, the basilisk still hung back, as if content to allow them to get away.
But then both the ghrip and the ettin slowed.
“What the—” he began.
“Their feet!” Xaxia proclaimed.
Looking down, he realized most of the ghrip’s lower tentacles were now tipped in heavy cement, greatly hampering its retreat. The ettin’s two feet had also become enclosed in cement blocks. The two monsters tried breaking away the blocks by smashing them against the ground and nearby trees as they ran, but couldn’t do it.
It’s the mages, Ziatrice sent. We can cut away the stone blocks with our magic weapons, but the mages will just create more until we deal with them.
Why didn’t they use the blocks earlier? he asked. And encase us in stone? Or why not do that to us now? If the mages have the range to create such blocks, we humans would be the obvious choice to encase, since we’re the ones in control of these monsters…
Some stone spells work only against monsters, she explained. I’m not sure why. As to the reason they didn’t do it earlier, there was no need, since we weren’t outrunning them until you sped up the creatures…
You certainly know a lot about stone mages, he told her.
I used to have one as a boy toy… and yes, it was a gobling.
Too much information.
You asked…
Malem quickly reached out behind him with his beast sense. There weren’t very many weak goblings left at that point. He kept jumping his mind between them until he finally Broke another four. That was probably the last of them. The rest would have to be injured in some way first, before he could take them.
He had the four goblings fall back. They all carried swords, so there would be no ranged attacks. He instructed two each to position themselves close to the mages. He sent one forward, and it tried to run the mage through, but while the blade was able to pass the leather armor, it was stopped cold by the flesh underneath, which had hardened to the consistency of stone.
The mage swiveled toward the surprised gobling, and then Malem’s connection to that creature severed. He switched to the perspective of the next closest Broken gobling and saw that the other had collapsed to the ground, frozen in the pose of running—it had become stone.
The ghrip was holding Ziatrice a little far from him, and he didn’t feel like shouting, so he sent her: Stone mages can harden their skin, too?
Yes, she replied. The magic is in their repertoire.
And turn enemies to stone as well?
If they’re close enough, yes, she sent.
Great. He couldn’t help the sarcasm that seeped into the thought.
Ziatrice shot him a glance. I did say they were stone mages.
Any idea on how to injure them?
She pursed her lips. A magic blade works well.
He drew Balethorn and dropped the
blade, aiming for the base of a big pine tree the bull had knocked down. It landed inside a small shrub overlooked by the spiders of this place.
Abigail pressed into his thoughts. You would abandon a weapon of infinite value?
I’ll retrieve it later, he sent.
When the pursuing goblings passed that position, he sent one of the Broken ones to fetch the sword. George, he named that one. He called the other two Terry and Barry.
Though George stood out with that big blade, so far no one had noticed. He sent George to take another run at the mage. This time, the sword penetrated easily, and the mage fell. A lucky blow, unfortunately: George killed it.
A nearby gobling screamed in outrage, but Malem had Terry attack that one. He also sent Barry to attack another gobling that was turning around to see what the commotion was about.
Meanwhile, George carried the magic blade toward the remaining mage. Two goblings near it noticed what was happening, and rushed George, but Balethorn easily bested the range on their smaller weapons, and George was able to hew them down. A crossbow bolt struck George in the chest, but the gobling ignored it and reached the mage, who was turning to face the creature.
The gobling sliced the magic blade at the stone mage’s chest, but Malem lost his connection to George before he could see the impact. He drained some stamina from Hansel to compensate for the sudden drop and leaped to the viewpoint of Barry instead.
His minion was busy dodging the attacks of a small group of goblings that had turned back to corner Barry and Terry. He had Barry glance past them toward the mage, and saw George lying on the ground, turned to rock. The gobling still held Balethorn in hand—the magic blade remained metal, but its haft was locked in the stony grip of the dead monster.
The stone mage meanwhile was on its knees next to the body, clutching a gaping wound in its chest.
Malem immediately reached out; he was able to squeeze his will around its mind. He crushed that will into a vise, but before he could Break the mage, other goblings rushed in, hooting and howling, and ran the creature through with their short swords.
