Saving Fate

by Billy Wong

  Not that he would have been able to demonstrate those skills, if the need arose...

  "Where are your Ironhoof friends?" Ann asked.

  Brianna averted her gaze. "They're dead. The sorcerer got them in a trap, but I escaped and got him."

  Mark bowed his head in sympathy for Torg, whose brother would never come back. Yet he felt more relief that his mother had been good enough to preserve her life.

  "Just like that?" Ann asked. "There weren't any minions you had to deal with first?"

  "There were, a few dozen at the least. But I disposed of them before coming here."

  "So that's the real sorcerer out there. What about the land? If he was the one draining it of life, shouldn't his death stop it?"

  "It hasn't been long enough to tell. Even if he is the one responsible, the actual siphoning of energy could have been performed by some external focus or device. But I've been staying here for the past few days, trying to glean any relevant information I can from his documents.

  "It's hard, you know," Brianna added with a bashful smile. "I don't know enough Vorhen to do this without trouble."

  "Don't look at me," Ann said. "I don't know no Vorhen."

  Kyle grunted. "Neither do I."

  Of course, Mark didn't either. If only this was one of those heroic sagas where, against all odds, he surely would! "Maybe we should just wait a few more days. If the draining effect on the land does stop, we should be able to see a renewed life in some of those weeds still hanging on outside."

  "So it talks," Brianna muttered loud enough for him to hear. "But haven't you noticed that I have been waiting?"

  Mark shrank back with embarrassment and felt Ann's small hand give his a comforting squeeze. He looked at her in surprise. Since when was she sensitive?

  "I did say you were my man," she whispered. "Please try to act it."

  Suddenly inspired, Mark threw an arm over Ann's shoulders and hugged her close. She squealed with delight, false or not he could not say. "Is there anything we can help you with?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly confident in his ears.

  Brianna stared a moment at the change in his demeanor, then said, "Yes. If you don't mind, could you three search around these hills and see if there's anything unusual you can find?"

  "Ann?"

  "No problem. I'd be bored out of my mind just waiting here in this stinky cave."

  #

  They left Brianna to her work and headed out, Mark's heart not much slower than it had been when he'd first seen her. He probably wouldn't be able to calm down until after he told her. The anxiety was killing him.

  "It doesn't seem that dangerous now. Can I tell her? The sorcerer's already dead."

  Ann frowned. "Maybe so, but that doesn't mean whatever device Brianna was talking about couldn't still be dangerous. Why are you so impatient? You two'll have plenty of time to talk once we're done saving the world."

  He supposed. "She sure didn't seem to care much that you're a princess, huh? 'Leo's daughter,' isn't that right?"

  "People like her don't give much regard to rank. Ulf didn't, either, but he respected me after I kicked his ass!"

  Teasingly, he declared, "You couldn't kick Brianna's ass."

  "Maybe not, but I'd give her a good fight—or even pull the upset. She's tall, though. But that axe of hers doesn't give her much of an advantage in reach."

  "Okay... so, where do we start searching from?"

  "Let's go behind the hill we found Brianna in. People like to keep things in back of where they live."

  The trio scoured the area for signs of the sorcerer's work, but besides the obvious effects on the land found nothing. Night fell, and they returned to the cave to find Brianna missing. On the wall behind where a displaced cabinet had once stood gaped a new hole.

  "Looks like your mom had better luck than us," said Ann. "Should we go in after her?"

  "Of course!"

  They entered the newly discovered passage to find themselves descending an increasingly hot and humid tunnel into the depths of the earth. "I'm burning up!" Ann gasped as she wiped at the sweat dripping down her forehead. "We better not end up falling into the heart of the world and getting cooked!"

  "We can't be anywhere near that deep," Kyle said, "and I don't think we're near a volcano either. No, this is something else."

  Farther down, they started to notice rubbery roots growing horizontally along the rock walls. They gave off a spicy tang, and more disturbingly pulsed like human veins. This had to be the sorcerer's doing, but for what purpose? Perhaps these plants were what he had been killing the land above to raise. Then Mark heard the grunts and shuffling of a struggle ahead, and his pulse quickened. Brianna was in a battle! He broke into a run, and with a yell of "Mark, wait!" Ann raced after him.

  Kyle followed close behind, and all three dashed into a vast chamber where they beheld an incredible sight. Brianna thrashed and flailed her axe in the air, suspended there by a thick vinelike tentacle. Following the appendage to its source revealed it was one among hundreds of varied girth attached to an algae-like plant mass the size of a house—and that said mass sported the misshapen green caricature of a giant human head.

  "Help her!" Mark cried. Before anyone could close, Brianna freed herself with a chop which severed the tendril holding her in a spray of yellow ichor. She fell fifteen feet to hard stone, yet rolled to her feet like it was nothing. "What is that thing?" Mark asked as he came to her side.

  "Probably what the sorcerer was using to suck the life out of the land. Let's just take it down first!"

  But why did it have a manlike head? Ann and Kyle charged it alongside Brianna. A forest of tendrils sprang from the ground before them. Their blades sheared through many a limb, and the monster's mouth gaped in a mute scream of pain. More tendrils rose to join the battle, halting the warriors' advance as they were forced to concentrate on keeping from being overwhelmed. Seeing his friends and parent hard-pressed, Mark tried to run to their aid, but found himself sprawling in a clumsy retreat from the reaching limbs that proved too fast to beat off with his blade.

  Not that the more experienced fighters fared much better. Entangled about the legs, Ann could not seem to rid herself of the impediments faster than they were replaced, while Kyle was kept from helping her by the viney grips on his left arm and waist. Dancing through the tendrils via spaces Mark's eyes failed to see, Brianna alone made it within axe's reach of the monster's body; but a second later was blocked from view by a wall of its limbs.

  Mark started forward again, only to be knocked down by a whipping blur of green. He felt a fierce sting on his cheek, and droplets of blood rolled down his skin. Where his companions could at least track the attacks of their foe, he was unable. What could he do?

  He saw tendrils entwine together to form the semblance of a great arm, smash into Ann's face and send her flying. As she landed, vines swarmed over her stunned body. Another arm hammered down onto Kyle, driving him to all fours, and he met the same fate. Mark looked around for some environmental advantage or alternate approach that would allow him to get close to the body. Nothing.

  He was still the closest to the exit. If he ran now, would he get away? But no. There was nowhere to get help, and he could not abandon his friends much less his mother. Even if he had little strength, there must be some small chance for him to make a difference.

  Staring with resolve into the hostile forest among which his friends fought, he settled upon helping Ann get free. If she could bring that greatsword fully to bear, it might just be enough to turn the tide. Raising his sword, he charged for her position. Vines shot his way, and he hacked wildly about him to clear a path.

  He had not gotten anywhere near her before a mighty blow slammed into his chest and launched him through the air. His body struck something hard and bounced off, driving the breath from his lungs. He tried to rise, his arms shaking beneath him, but it hurt to inhale and his head swam. Reaching out in a dazed effort to retrieve his sword, he fainted.

/>   #

  Consciousness returned slowly to Mark, his awareness first registering that he existed but nothing of other circumstances. Then he remembered he had eyes, and forced them open to find himself in a dark, familiar chamber. The sorcerer's cave. Looking down at him, respectively seated and standing, were a quite battered Ann and Kyle.

  "Whew, looks like you're finally awake," Ann said, wiping her face in relief. "I was getting worried that ugly plant might have hit you too hard."

  "W-we're alive? What happened?"

  "Of course we're alive, silly! What, did you really think Lady Ann would let her man die that easily?"

  He blinked against the dizziness lingering in his head. "But how did you do it? The last I saw, we were losing badly."

  "Yeah?" She smirked. "Shame on you for counting me out so quickly! I freed my arm and threw my sword through the monster's head. That didn't kill it, but more than slowed it down enough to get the job done."

  "Brianna cut through the base of one of the tentacles holding Ann," Kyle pointed out, "allowing her to get loose."

  At the mention of his mother, Mark realized she was nowhere to be seen. "Brianna! Where is she? Is she all right?!"

  "She's fine." Kyle paused. "But she is no longer here."

  "Not here? What do you mean?"

  "Exactly what it sounds like," Ann said. "She's left, gone, most likely back to Perfia to report on her success if my guess is right. We tried to convince her to stay until you woke up, but she wouldn't have it."

  "What? Why didn't you tell her who I was?"

  "I wanted to, but Kyle here told me not to do it without asking you. Said you might be waiting to tell her yourself."

  Mark looked unhappily at the knight. "Thanks for the consideration, but I would've rather gotten her to stay than anything else. Why was she in such a rush to leave?" He remembered what she had said when he overheard her conversation with Owen back home. "Never mind, she was probably in a hurry to get done with this so she could go and find me..."

  "So she's running back to look for you, when you were right here? That's kind of funny. No worries, though, I'm sure we can catch up with her. Even if we are three days behind her."

  Only now did Mark notice Ann and Kyle's cuts and bruises were old, and well into the process of healing. "Three days? I've been out for three days?" Damn him for being so useless! "Why didn't you just take me with you?"

  "We didn't want to risk worsening your injury. Come on, relax! Didn't I just tell you we were going to catch up to Brianna? If not in Perfia, we do know where she's going after that."

  "I suppose you're right." But it aggravated Mark how close he had been to his mother only to let her slip away again. "Maybe I should have just told her."

  "Didn't we already go over why not? We should get moving if you want to catch her, that is if you can walk."

  "I'm sure I can manage it." With a smile, he added, "And if not, you can carry me."

  Ann shot him a cold look, then returned his smile and bent to help him out of bed.

  #

  Outside, Mark saw the three days since the monster's death had made a noticeable difference. Though most of the older plant life was dead and would not revive, many sprouts could be seen of dormant seeds that now began to germinate.

  "So what was that thing," he asked, "and why did it have a man's head?"

  "Brianna said it was the sorcerer's container for storing gathered energy," Ann said, "so that he could save it up and use it all at once for some massive spell later. As for why it had a head, I'd guess it must've been imbued with part of the sorcerer's life force."

  But the plant's face had not much resembled that of the dead man outside. Maybe it was just the distortion.

  Noticing his glum mood as the day wore on, Ann asked, "What's wrong? Are you feeling bad about how you did against that plant?"

  That had not been the first thing on his mind, but being reminded of it did make him feel pretty lousy. He was used to defeat, but this time, in a situation meaning life or death, had been completely ineffectual. His presence had not helped the people he cared about one bit, and maybe even hindered them considering they must have protected him when he was unconscious. He remembered Brianna's favorite line about him and sighed. His life will be the stuff of legend? Yeah, right.

  "Don't worry about it," Ann said. "At least you attacked."

  He had done that, if only it'd done him any good. "Maybe Brianna can teach me how to actually fight."

  "Perhaps I could try lending a hand in training him," Kyle suggested. "People do consider mine a slower style."

  "Mark isn't really a slow fighter," said Ann. "More of a hesitant one, but I don't see how learning to fight slower would help."

  "I meant that my teaching style would be slower, not the fighting itself. Although one could question that reckless speed of yours."

  "You're willing to help me?" Mark asked. "Go through things step by step so that I'll be able to grasp what I should be doing?"

  "Yes. I would prefer to have another useful fighter at my side, than a... less useful one."

  "Thanks. Now we can just take things slow and easy-"

  Ann's sword rasped from its sheath and sliced the air before Mark's face. Momentarily confused, he jumped back—and tripped, falling to his rear end. He reached for his hilt, but Ann's sword already hovered over his throat. "What are you doing?"

  She resheathed the sword and sighed. "Just reminding you that I'm still your trainer too, and you'll never get slow and easy from me. You really need to learn to react better, you know."

  "Yes, I know." Suddenly, he realized something that might make much of what had just been said moot. "Hey, Ann... thanks for giving me so much help. I wouldn't have made it anywhere without you. You too, Kyle, and sorry about dragging you through all this."

  "You're welcome," Ann said, "but why are you thanking us now?"

  Mark smiled. "I wanted to let you know how grateful I am before we part."

  "Part? Now what makes you think we're going to do that anytime soon?"

  "We might not, if she's still in Perfia. But if she isn't, I'll be heading home to find her."

  "And why would that be a problem?" She winked. "Don't forget I've been meaning to meet Brianna forever too. We may have exchanged greetings and fought a little battle together, but I want us to share a good long talk or four. So even if you are leaving Perfia, I'll probably be leaving with you."

  "Kyle?" Mark asked doubtfully. "Would this be all right with you?"

  "There's little I can do about it if I disapprove. Not that I would have much against visiting Widalia in the first place, though. It would certainly be a better place for Ann to learn about culture than where we've been."

  "Are you implying I'm uncultured?" Ann pouted. "How could you already forget the etiquette contest I won last year?"

  "You won because you scared all the other contestants into forfeiting."

  "Yeah, and? A win, is a win!"

  #

  They passed through the Ironhoofs' territory without incident, and Mark hoped peace between the tribes would return now that their old home was becoming livable again. The journey back through Moonfang land went with similar ease, and it seemed they would make it back to Perfia City safely.

  It was in the evening, near the end of sunset, that the attack came. Their foes must have counted on the poor light and fatigue after a day's hard travel to hamper them, but their arrival did not elude Ann's warrior senses. "Watch out!" she cried, a moment before thrown blades flashed in the fading light. Curved daggers thunked into a nearby tree as she tackled Mark down, glaring into the brush where dark figures darted among the shadows. More blades flew. She caught one inches from her face, threw it back. A man gurgled in death. Then she stood and charged, to the sound of feet pounding away in flight.

  Caught off guard by the suddenness of events, Mark watched Ann disappear into the forest in a half daze. Kyle sprinted after her and vanished too, leaving him to collect his wi
ts alone. So the Duke of Arrith wasn't done with him after all. He considered chasing after his friends, even took a step forward, but stopped with a bitter appraisal of his own ability. His presence would not likely be of help to them, but more probably a hindrance.

  A noise from the direction opposite the initial attack made Mark realize they had been tricked. The first villains served merely to distract, while these would be the ones to capture him. Two burly men in studded leathers stepped from the trees, one holding a heavy bludgeon and the other a net.

  "Give up quietly, will you?" the one with the club asked. "We'd hate to have to bang you up and risk knocking you witless."

  Mark backed up and drew his sword, but could not decide which man to face when they advanced as one. Would his blade even do him any good against that net? He was sure Ann could have slashed it out of the air, but only saw himself being trapped and clubbed down. A few more steps into his retreat, he turned and ran.

  His adversaries seemed unsurprised, and their boots thumped across the dirt as they broke into an immediate pursuit behind him. Mark tried to convince himself he had a good chance of escape. He was lighter than either man, and should be faster, right? But their footsteps seemed to grow louder with the passing seconds. He risked a look back and found them almost upon him.

  With a desperate cry he spun into a low cut, catching one foe across the knees. He fell, dropping the net. Good thing, Mark thought, he hadn't dared trying to throw it mid run. The other man stepped in, slamming the club down across his left shoulder. He heard a crack, and fell teary-eyed with pain and vision dimming. Oh no oh no don't pass out...

  Mark managed to raise a leg and kick into his assailant's groin, pushing him back. He flopped over and tried to rise, but the agony in his shoulder made it a grueling challenge. The man doubled up by his low blow recovered and rushed, blasting a kick into his ribs. Driven rolling away, Mark choked and coughed for breath. A large hand grasped the back of his neck and yanked him to his feet.

  "Now I'm going to hurt you," the man holding him sneered.