by Isaac Hooke
Per Malem’s orders, Eddy didn’t bother to swing the tree like a club when facing such enemies—the ettin would risk exposing itself. Instead, when Eddy got close enough to the target in question, the monster simply continued forward, allowing the tree to impale the Eldritch. If the mage tried to dodge, Eddy would simply trample him. Sometimes Malem had to do the honors, pouncing on mages that managed to evade the ettin.
In that manner the pair quickly drove a wedge through the thick enemy, and made good progress toward the city walls. He didn’t think he was close enough to leap onto the top of the outer wall, but soon.
He was still able to hear the occasional shout from the rooftop, but he ignored most of it, concentrating on the battle at hand. He would give the women his attention if they addressed him, but until then, he had a fight to win.
As he continued driving deeper into the enemy, turning wave upon wave to stone, while literally crushing any mages that resisted, he felt full of his power. Invincible, even.
This is what we should have done in the first place!
Yet it was also a reckless attack, one that relied entirely upon the element of surprise. It was an assault in which momentum was also important. Instinctually he felt he had to keep pressing forward, or that momentum would ebb and turn against them.
But as the enemy continued to fall before the pair without any help from Hansel and Ophid, he began to experience that particular thirst inside himself he feared… that lust for power Ziatrice tried so hard to stoke. And for a moment he was worried the hunger would consume him entirely, and that he wouldn’t be able to stop conquering and killing when the time came. That he’d want to continue ravaging the land until all the world was trampled to dust beneath his reptilian feet.
The sting of pain brought him back to the present moment. Even though it was a glancing blow, that attack would have probably killed him in his native form, considering that now a chunk about the size of a human head was missing from his shoulder. But to a basilisk, that was only a small part of its shoulder region.
He pounced on the mage responsible for the attack, a monster Eddy had missed.
As he continued transforming the enemy ranks to stone, more and more mages survived, and were left standing, their green outlines revealing their positions. Either there were more of them, or they were strong here in this part of the army. With multiple mages in front of them, they could no longer charge the enemies in a single-file line.
Zig zag! Malem sent the ettin. Don’t stay in one place! The tree won’t protect your flanks. Make them work to target you!
Following his own advice, Malem broke away from Eddy and approached the targets in a zigzag pattern, pouncing left then right, until he was close enough to either leap upon an enemy and crush him, or snatch him up in his jaws. He moved among the mages like that, but more and more began to appear from the retreating lines of the army in front of them so that an incredible number of green swirls were homing in on them. Too many to dodge.
Retreat to me! he told the ettin.
Eddy joined him, using that magic-damaged tree as a shield, and they backed away from the onslaught.
So much for being invincible, and driving a wedge all the way to the city walls…
The edges of the tree were rapidly dissolving away. He wasn’t sure how much longer the tree would last.
Hansel, Ophid, attack!
Hansel had positioned itself on the leftmost flank of the army, and came charging in at them. Tentacles flung out in rapid succession, wrapping around the distracted mages and crushing their torsos into a green mist seconds after lifting them off the ground.
Ophid, meanwhile, struck from the opposite flank. The basilisk raced forward, tearing through the ranks and tents, turning soldiers to stone, ripping into any mages that withstood its gaze.
Forward, Eddy!
Once more the ettin drove forward, and all four monsters joined together and wreaked havoc upon their foes. The mages were nothing before them. The soldiers, less than motes.
And then Eddy went down.
Four mages had hidden behind the statues of their transformed comrades, and when the ettin had passed, they attacked it with a series of magical missiles that tore a hole through the rib cage and right through to its lungs. There was nothing Malem could do when the creature went down.
Sorry… Master. Failed you.
No, Malem said, holding back tears. You never failed me. You were my greatest asset.
Why did he feel such sadness for the ettin? It was just a monster.
No, Eddy was more than that. Much more.
He was his friend.
He pounced on the four Eldritch with Ophid and Hansel and tore them apart. But then a long line of mages appeared in front of them, emerging from the army ranks ahead. They sent a whirlwind of green at the monsters.
Malem ducked behind the large trunk Eddy had dropped. Ophid joined him. He ordered Hansel to retreat, as the ghrip was too big to hide behind the tree, especially considering how much damage said tree had taken.
Here, Master. Last gift. With effort, Eddy hauled itself to its feet.
Wait! Malem sent.
The ettin ignored him. Holding in part of its lungs with one hand, Eddy dragged itself over the log and struggled toward the mages, who were unleashing hell at the poor monster.
Run to the wall, Master! Eddy sent.
Malem and Ophid separated and made a mad dash around the mages toward the wall. He kept glancing at Eddy—most of the mages were distracted by the monster, but a few launched magic Malem’s way, which he easily dodged.
Chunks of Eddy’s body fell away or dissolved as the monster took more and more hits. Finally the sinews of his legs had taken too much damage to hold up his weight, and he collapsed. The attacks didn’t abate.
Malem released the monster, partly because he didn’t want to feel the boomerang effect as their connection was forcibly severed by death, but also because he wanted his friend to die free.
Eddy let out one last moan from its two heads and then closed its eyes forevermore.
And so ended the bravest, most loyal monster Malem had ever known. He just wished he had treated the ettin with more respect in life. He had taken Eddy for granted, risked its life carelessly. He hadn’t realized how powerful of a bond could be formed with a monster when held for such a long period of time, a bond just as strong as that developed with an animal.
The mages began to turn their attention on Ophid and himself.
Malem was close enough to leap onto the wall that surrounded Tartan then, and he did so. He landed on the walkway, and then pounced down onto a group of Eldritch on the other side. As they looked up to see what had assailed them, they turned to stone.
Weaklings.
He leaped onto a rooftop and made his way forward quietly, moving from rooftop to rooftop. Ophid mirrored his advance a few rooftops away, a pair of snakes infiltrating the chicken coop. Most of the buildings were able to support his weight, but occasionally a few partially crumbled, and he lost his step before recovering.
“All right, Khaan and Ophid are on the way,” he announced for the benefit of the women on the rooftop. “How’s it going up there?”
“We’re holding out,” Ziatrice said. Though he couldn’t see her at the moment, her voice sounded strained. “Barely.”
“The Eldritch keep throwing their disintegrating magic our way, drilling through our makeshift bulwark,” Xaxia said. “Ziatrice has to keep adding stones to it to compensate. She could probably use a vitality boost. And Abigail and Weyanna look half dead themselves.”
He could definitely sense the weariness in their energy bundles, so he gave the three of them a stamina boost from Hansel. He felt Gwen flagging as well, so he also transferred some vitality to her. The bull, none too pleased at the sudden drain, gave a token thrash of outrage in his head.
“By the way, how do you plan to get us down?” Xaxia asked. “Or have the basilisks suddenly develop the ability to fly?”
“They can carry us down one at a time in their mouths,” Malem replied.
“I’m supposed to put myself in the mouth of a basilisk and hope it’s not going to eat me?” Gwen pressed.
“Uh huh,” he told her.
He could sense a certain baseline level of fear emanating from the four women bound to him, which was to be expected under such a tense combat situation, but in that moment the fear suddenly spiked. It couldn’t be because of what he had just said, unless it was a delayed response to his words… which was possible. Being carried in the mouth of a basilisk certainly wouldn’t be the most pleasant experience, after all.
But then Xaxia spoke, shooting down that theory: “Breaker, you better get back inside your body. We have a problem.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nemertes has awakened,” Xaxia replied.
27
Malem quickly instructed Khaan and Ophid to continue toward the castle as stealthily as possible, then switched his consciousness back inside his own body on the rooftop.
He glanced at Xaxia, and was about to ask her to repeat what she said, when he realized her gaze was locked skyward. As were the eyes of the other women crouched behind the makeshift bulwark with him.
He looked up to see the silhouette of a huge dragon rapidly bearing down on his position.
Gwen unleashed arrows frantically. Rathamias launched curling smears of dark magic. Ziatrice threw her ghostly chains. Abigail dispatched fireballs. Weyanna hurled spears of ice.
Yes, they all fired at it, but the impacts simply bounced off the big dragon’s underbelly.
He attempted to wrap his will around the dragon’s, but it was like trying to touch a hot kettle.
As the dragon continued to descend, he realized it was set to land right on top of them.
That would be bad.
“Retreat!” Malem tried to scramble to his feet, but his boots skidded on the surface of the rooftop, which had become suddenly slippery, and he fell flat. He tried again and again but kept falling. He couldn’t find purchase. The others with him were having similar problems.
The monster still swooped directly toward them, and he thought his doom was imminent, but at the last moment it swerved aside and instead landed on the rooftop next to them. Though Malem couldn’t see them past the temporary stone barrier, from the sickening screams he thought the dragon must have crushed several Eldritch during that landing: this rooftop was larger than the other, but there still wasn’t all that much room to hold the creature.
The upper part of the dragon was visible beyond the lip of the stones that sheltered him, and he readily saw those huge leathery wings, and that long neck topped by the baleful reptilian head.
Suddenly the bulwark broke away, and he realized the dragon had swiped a claw at the wall. The broken stones scattered across the rooftop beside them, revealing the dragon in its full glory. It towered over them like a Balor, a presence of pure destruction, emanating raw evil.
Gwen launched her arrows frantically while lying down, but the other women, and the orak mage, seemed unable to issue any further magical attacks. He sensed frustration from their energy bundles, mixed in with the terror.
The dragon glanced at Gwen in annoyance as she continued to pepper it with arrows, and then swatted at her bow, tearing it from her grasp and sending the magical thing clattering across the rooftop.
Malem tried to get up again, but now even trying to put any weight on his hands caused them to slip, too. It was like he was standing on the slipperiest, most frictionless ice that ever existed. In fact, now that he thought about it, the surface underneath him was covered in a thin gleam in the dim light from the city below.
Of course. It’s a blue dragon. Ice is its innate magic.
He saw no hints of the spinnerets on its tail that Weyanna had mentioned, but he did spot the two fangs protruding from either side of its jaw, which could shoot venom according to her.
He waited for death to come. For the dragon to do something. Anything. Perhaps use that terrible light magic Weyanna had told him the ancient dragon had developed, and make all of their bodies implode.
But Nemertes simply stood in place, towering over them, as if standing guard.
He tried touching its mind again, but like the last time, the act only burned the tendrils of his will.
He reached out to Khaan and Ophid, who were close to the castle, and told them to stay back for now. There was no point summoning them at the moment. This dragon was far too powerful for either of the basilisks. He’d be bringing them only to their deaths.
A figure emerged from the staircase on the far side of the rooftop. A globe of light suddenly appeared above that figure. It was blinding at first to Malem, as he still had his night vision active, and he raised a hand to cover his squinting eyes. That light had a different quality than the fiery spheres Abigail could produce. The light was whiter, more like that of the sun, and far brighter. It had to be light magic. The dragon’s? Or the newcomers?
He blinked rapidly, and his eyes adjusted enough for him to gaze at the figure who approached. It was a woman. Slender, but too tall and too pale, to be entirely human. Blunted horns on her brow held up a tiara of gold and silver, inlaid with emeralds all along the rim. Black locks fell to her thighs, and framed a chiseled, perfectly symmetrical face. High cheekbones supported emerald eyes possessed of a green tint too deep to be natural. Those eyes drew him in, their lashes full, the perfectly plucked eyebrows above them only further amplifying their allure. He lowered his gaze to her thin nose, and those succulent lips. It was a face artists would have begged to paint, and sculptors would have given anything to chisel.
She wore a long dress of black satin with swathes of blue silk along the ribs and shoulders, and beneath the bosom, which highlighted her cleavage. That dress framed her hourglass figure, and the skirt portion was cut open on one side, revealing her left thigh and calf as she walked. On her feet were high heels encrusted with diamonds, the straps ornamented with green and onyx gems.
She carried a golden scepter in her right hand, which was topped by a large emerald. All of the jewels on her person sparkled beneath the artificial light as she approached. It was a carefully crafted appearance, one meant to intimidate and attract at the same time.
Motion drew his gaze to a small man he hadn’t noticed at first, who walked beside her. He realized the man only seemed small in comparison to her because she was so unnaturally tall. The man wore what must have once been regal clothes, but the thick silks of his tunic were now bedraggled and covered in grime. His thick brown beard was tangled and frayed, and his hair matted. His features were haggard, his eyes crazed. A circlet of thinning hair flowed around the sides of his head, aligned with his brow line as if to mark where the brim of a hat had once sat for most of his life. Or a crown.
Someone gasped beside him.
That’s King Goldenthall with her! Abigail sent.
Malem nodded grimly. He sensed the woman with his beast sense. It could only be Mauritania.
He reached out, attempting to vise her will, but the tentacles of his mind steamed away upon touch. Yes, definitely Mauritania. It didn’t hurt as much as trying to touch the dragon, but the sting was still palpable. He’d never experienced pain when trying to Break animals or monsters before. There was a first time for everything, he supposed.
An Eldritch mage who had survived the dragon’s landing approached her.
“My queen.” The Eldritch bowed before her. “These—”
A flicker of annoyance momentarily registered on her face; her emerald eyes flared brightly, and she waved a hand. Green magic shot from her fingers, wrapping around the mage before he could finish, and he rapidly disintegrated.
She continued imperiously toward Malem. No other Eldritch dared interrupt her.
She paused in front of one of the dragon’s paws, which blocked her path, as if expecting Nemertes to remove that paw so she could pass. When it didn’t, she frowned,
but then smoothed her face and sidestepped the paw as if unperturbed. Goldenthall stayed close to her side, like a lapdog.
When she stood in front of Malem and the others, she beckoned toward the former king, and Goldenthall dropped to his hands and knees, parallel to Malem. She sat on the bench formed by his back, and folded one leg over the other. She tapped the diamond-studded toe of her high-heel in the empty air.
“So you are the great Breaker?” Mauritania said after a moment. “The one the master seeks. You’re not so impressive. For some reason, I thought you’d be taller. Then again, I suppose it’s hard to tell with you cowering before me like this. I definitely thought you’d put up more of a fight. Pity. The Breaker has been Broken already. Defeated by a little dragon.”
There had to be a way to get out of this. Khaan and Ophid were waiting below. But they couldn’t strike, not while that dragon was present. There had to be a way to draw the creature away…
Hansel had remained in hiding next to the perimeter of the valley. On a whim, he instructed the ghrip to assault the southernmost wall of the city. The bull was to retreat if the resistance from the mages became too great but was otherwise to cause as much confusion and terror among their ranks as possible.
Would the attack be enough to attract the attention of the dragon? He doubted it. But he had to try.
“What’s the matter?” Mauritania asked. “You have nothing to say? Like most men, I suppose.”
“Let me go, and I’ll spare you,” he said.
She stared at him in astonishment, then erupted in a laugh. She slapped a bare knee jovially.
She turned her attention to Ziatrice. “Ah, Night Elf, I can see why you’ve aligned yourself with this one. He has a far better sense of humor than the master.”
Ziatrice smirked, saying nothing.
Mauritania leaned in close to the night elf. “Come on, strike at me. I dare you.”
