Fighter

by Isaac Hooke

  “Meanwhile, he’ll eventually grow powerful enough to take over my mind completely,” Malem said. “It could be a few months. A few weeks. Hell, even a few days.”

  “Goldenthall seems afraid of you,” Xaxia said. “Or Banvil, rather.”

  “For now,” Malem said. “That’ll change when I become Banvil’s completely. Until then, the demon knows I can Break it if I weaken the containing vessel: Goldenthall.”

  “Are you sure that’s the reason?” Xaxia asked. “Do you know for certain that injuring Goldenthall is the same as injuring Banvil? Goldenthall is merely the demon’s vessel, after all, but not Banvil itself.”

  “No, I don’t know for certain,” he admitted.

  “By your logic,” Xaxia said. “Injuring yourself would also weaken Banvil.”

  Malem pursed his lips. “I never thought about it that way.”

  “So next time we meet Banvil, maybe we should try beating the shit out of you,” Gwen said.

  He smiled. “No thanks. Because you have to keep in mind, even if it does weaken Banvil, it will also weaken me, to the point that I won’t have the strength to Break him. Whereas the reverse could quite readily happen—he might conquer me.”

  Gwen shrugged. “Then drain us for stamina after.”

  “I’ll still be injured,” he said.

  “Then Weyanna will heal you,” Gwen pressed.

  “But healing me will also restore Banvil, if this is correct,” Malem said. “So no, I don’t think injuring myself is an avenue we’ll pursue when next we encounter the demon.”

  “So we’re going to pursue?” Timlir asked. “There’s a wee problem. How are we going to get to the Light Realm?” The dwarf glanced at Grendel. “Unless you can open a portal, Light Witch?”

  “Call me mage, not witch,” Grendel said. “And no, I can’t open a portal.”

  “There has to be a way,” Malem said.

  Grendel nodded hesitantly. “There is a path, but it is guarded by a terrible creature. Euryale. The Gorgon.”

  Wendolin shuddered. “I have heard of Euryale. She’ll be impossible to defeat.”

  “Why, what can she do?” Gwen asked.

  “She’s like a basilisk, but worse,” Wendolin replied. “She can turn you to stone not just with a look, but a touch as well. Or if you’re hit by her magic. She has also amassed quite a large number of servants, utterly devoted to her.”

  “Why haven’t these servants turned to stone?” Gwen pressed.

  “Like a basilisk, she can control who is affected by her gaze, or touch,” Grendel said.

  “Okay, let’s say we somehow defeat Euryale, and reach the Light Realm,” Weyanna said, still in dragon form. “What then? How will we find Goldenthall? He could be anywhere. If the Paragons can’t sense him, then how will we? Or do we know if the Paragons can sense him or not.”

  “I’d say no,” Grendel said. “Since Banvil is within a human vessel. However, there are creatures known as Trabeculae that exist in their realm. These creatures are capable of tracking even the most minute traces of the Dark. The Paragons lent them to men during the Balor Wars.”

  “So they’re tracking Banvil already then, I assume?” Gwen said. “The Trabeculae would have alerted them, right?”

  “No,” Grendel told her. “The Paragons once kept them as pets, until they realized the Trabeculae had the intelligence of men. So they ceased the process of capturing and enslaving them, and set all of those in captivity free. It was a mistake perhaps, but the Paragons always assumed if a Balor entered their realm, it would be in its natural, readily detectable form. They also assumed that a Balor would be mad to enter their realm in the first place. ”

  “All right, well, we’re getting too far ahead of ourselves,” Malem said. “First we need to seek out this Euryale, and bargain with her to allow us through to the Light Realm. And then we find ourselves a Trabecula.”

  “Euryale does not bargain,” Grendel said. “Unless by bargain you mean with your sword.”

  “I have no qualms with bargaining by the sword,” Malem told her.

  “Wait, didn’t you hear what Wendolin said?” Gwen asked. “Euryale will be impossible to defeat.”

  “Never tell me something’s impossible,” Xaxia said, petting the shaft of her sword.

  “So what do we do with this one?” Sylfi asked, nodding toward the gray, who remained obediently perched on the terrace.

  “We could bring it with us,” Timlir said. “That debuff ability could come in handy against Euryale.”

  Malem nodded. “It certainly could.” He glanced at Zach. “Is that debuff an ability you have, or produced by some item you keep in your hoard?”

  “An ability,” Zach confirmed.

  “Then why did it wear off when we left the cave?” Malem asked.

  “When I use it, the debuff forms a zone that extends outward from my position,” Zach said. “The range is limited. I created it at the center of my cave, and so you were able to travel beyond the extent of this zone. I couldn’t create another because it takes half an hour to recover.”

  “Ah,” Malem said. “Good to know.”

  “Should we go home, pick up reinforcements?” Wendolin asked.

  Malem rubbed his chin. He glanced at Grendel. “Where is Euryale’s den?”

  “It’s located in a small keep, carved into a mountainside,” Grendel said. “Where she once ruled as queen. Though her people are long since dead. Killed by her own magic.”

  “This keep, how defensible is it?” Malem asked.

  “We’ll be able to enter, if that’s what you mean,” Grendel said. “But the hallways are narrow, so if you’re hoping to bring a dragon, the creature will have to wait outside.”

  “That means we can’t transform,” Weyanna said.

  Grendel nodded. “If you sent in your army, Euryale and her minions would be able to hold them off for quite a while—there are many choke points in the keep. The bodies of those who fell would only further block the advance, tightening the choke points. I would suggest a small force, no larger than our current group. Maybe a few extra mages, if you feel so inclined.”

  “You know quite a lot about the design of her keep,” Weyanna said. “You speak as though you’ve visited it.”

  “That’s because I have,” Grendel admitted. “Long ago, before Euryale became what she is.”

  Malem paused to consider Grendel’s words. “I’m inclined to agree with you,” he finally said. “I’m not convinced throwing bodies at Euryale is the way to go. I think we have everyone we need here. We have three dragons. Three mages. A skilled bowwoman, axeman, and swordswoman. And I have some skill with the blade myself.”

  “Four mages, if you count her,” Gwen said, nodding at Aurora, who still had her back to them.

  “I’m not sure she’ll be participating in the fight,” Malem said.

  “When are you going to take off her collar?” Gwen asked, lowering her voice.

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “I’ve been avoiding it. I still don’t feel I can trust her.”

  “She saved your life back there,” Gwen pressed.

  “I know,” he said. “Though I’m not sure what her reasons were. I do intend to find out. But that’ll wait until we’re in more comfortable surroundings. There have to be some inns between here and this Euryale.” He glanced at Grendel. “Where can we find the Gorgon?”

  “Her city is to the northeast,” Grendel said. “East of Mulhadden, in the corner of the region known as Ptolemy.”

  “Ptolemy, ruled by two kings?” Gwen asked.

  “That’s the one,” Grendel replied.

  “We won’t be encountering those kings, if I have my way,” Malem said.

  “We shouldn’t need to,” Grendel agreed. “Especially considering we’ll be riding in on dragons, and traveling well away from the capital city.”

  “Good,” Malem said. He glanced at the dragons. “Do you know how to get to Ptolemy from here?”

  “Of
course,” Weyanna said.

  “Then take us back to the saddles,” he told her. “Zach, you’re coming too.”

  “Can’t you release me?” Zach complained. “And leave me to my den?”

  “No,” Malem said.

  “But who will protect my treasure while I’m gone!” Zach said.

  “I’m sure it will be safe for a few days,” Malem told the dragon.

  “Days?” Zach said. “A few days? I can’t be gone for more than a day!”

  “I’m sorry—” Malem began, but then felt Zach fighting against him in his head. He squeezed tight, and gave the dragon a warning look. “I’ll drain your stamina…”

  The gray ceased its struggles and turned away resignedly.

  The three Metals scooped up their non-dragon companions in their talons, and flew back down the scree slope toward the caravans.

  Zach, in front of us, Malem ordered. Where I can keep an eye on you.

  Zach took the lead, and shortly thereafter landed next to the wagons.

  The Metals deposited the companions on the ground, and then helped each other secure the saddles to their backs.

  In a few moments, the lot of them were headed to the northeast, toward the territory of Ptolemy, with the gray dragon leading the way.

  As the evening grew late, and twilight descended on the land, Malem spotted a quaint glow in the distance ahead.

  Does anyone know what that is? he asked.

  Some random village on the outskirts of Ptolemy, Wendolin replied.

  A village? he said. Good. We’ll stop here for the night. Metals, fly low, and let us down a mile outside of town, near that forested area. Zach, you’ll stay in that forest tonight.

  I hate forests, Zach said. I prefer caves. Birds and other animals are always crawling into my orifices in forests.

  Then keep your sphincter puckered! Gwen joked.

  Not that orifice, Zach said.

  You’re staying in the forest, Malem sent.

  Very well, the gray said.

  The dragons flew close to the ground, almost skimming it with their wingtips with each flap, in order to reduce their profile against the sky as viewed from the city. There was a road ahead, but they purposely stayed away from it, not wanting to be spotted by any passing merchant caravans.

  The dragons made a quick pass over the outskirts of the forest, and Malem reached out with his beast sense, confirming there were no monsters hidden within: only animals.

  The Metals let down their riders next to the eaves of the forest, while Zach landed in a small clearing some distance inside.

  Not going to hunt? Malem asked Zach.

  Not hungry, the gray returned. Wake me when you’re ready to leave.

  That’ll be in the morning, Malem sent.

  Suits me, the dragon replied.

  Metals, feel free to scavenge for supper in dragon form, but stay low, and avoid the village if at all possible, Malem said. I don’t want to alert the villagers to your presence. Things will go easier for us, if you can avoid detection.

  Last thing we need is a dragon-hunting mob scouring this forest with their pitchforks, Gwen said.

  It would be kind of entertaining for us, though, Brita said. You have to admit.

  We’re here to rest, not for entertainment, Malem said. When you Metals are done your supper, change back, and stow your saddles in the forest. Then meet us in the village. You’ll find us at the closest inn. Probably the only inn, given how small I expect this village to be.

  We can use our sense of you in our heads to track you down, Weyanna said.

  You certainly can, Malem agreed.

  The Metals took flight, hanging low in the air as they swept across the forest in search of prey. Zach remained in the clearing, already snoozing, judging from his energy bundle.

  Malem and the others meanwhile headed toward the village. The distant lights welcomed them in the growing twilight.

  13

  While walking to the village, he sent a private thought to Aurora. Why did you save me? Dragging me out of the way of that dragon… I thought you hated me.

  You want the truth? she asked. Or the lie?

  The truth, preferably, he said.

  But the lie is so much more interesting… she told him. Have you heard about that syndrome where prisoners sympathize with their captors? That’s what’s happening to me.

  Okay, the truth now, please, he pressed.

  She sighed. Isn’t it obvious why I saved you? I didn’t want to lose my crystal sword. He was keenly aware of the weapon, still hanging from his hip opposite Balethorn. If the dragon swallowed you, the blade would be gone, perhaps destroyed. Plus, you carry the key to my collar on your person. I couldn’t let the dragon eat you, otherwise I’d never be able to remove this collar again.

  But maybe you might get lucky and discover the key after spending a few weeks searching through its excrement, Malem sent.

  Your other “companions” might appreciate your sense of humor, Aurora said. But I certainly don’t.

  Ah well, Malem sent. And for a moment there I almost started to believe we were bonding.

  We’ll start bonding when you remove my collar, she said. And you free me to use my magic.

  Not yet, he said, worried it would break the bond, and thus the control he had over her.

  When are you going to trust me? she asked.

  Tell me what your magic does, he replied.

  She looked away.

  There’s your answer, he told her.

  She worked her mouth, and for a moment he thought she was finally going to reveal her powers to him, but then she set her lips in a firm line and remained quiet for the rest of the journey.

  It proved to be a moderately sized village, with houses made of wood that had undoubtedly been hewn from the nearby forest. White dye covered most of the facades, though a few had been dyed brown or blue, with contrasting sills. The roofs were flat, unlike the gable design more common to the west, and seemed to be covered in red tiles, judging from the portions visible on the eaves.

  Malem reached out with his beast sense and felt a few small signatures that must have been pets in some of the buildings, but otherwise there was nothing else. No monsters. And he couldn’t detect the humans, of course.

  The different shops were readily identifiable by the symbols carved into the signs protruding above the doors. A big slab of meat—the butcher. A leaf—the herbalist. A horseshoe—the blacksmith.

  The proprietor of the latter shop was leaning on a hitching post in front of the building, and smoked a pipe. He nodded amiably as the party approached, and removed his pipe to speak.

  “Welcome to Forskin,” the man said.

  Xaxia, at Malem’s side, doubled over with laughter. “Foreskin? You named your village after the tip of the penis?”

  The blacksmith shrugged. “It means ‘battle born’ in the ancient tongue spoken in these parts. Besides, we’re at the tip of Ptolemy. The name’s modern meaning seems appropriate enough.”

  Not wanting to continue down that route, Malem asked: “Where can we find the inn?”

  The man pointed down the street with his pipe.

  “You can’t miss it,” the proprietor said. “Continue down the road and look to the right.”

  The blacksmith glanced back at Malem, smiling, but the grin left his face when he noticed Gwen for the first time. It turned into an outright scowl when he spotted Timlir.

  Before Malem could ask if there was a problem, the man ducked inside his shop.

  “Don’t think he likes dwarves, that one,” Timlir said.

  “Evidently not,” Malem said.

  They continued forward, not encountering anyone else, though he did catch the occasional pair of eyes peeking from a window.

  “This village is kinda creepy,” Gwen said. “Maybe we shouldn’t spend the night.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Malem said.

  They found the inn shortly thereafter and entered. There was a small comm
on room with two tables. One of the tables had five men and two women seated around it, playing some sort of card game. They all looked up when Malem entered.

  “We don’t serve her kind,” the innkeeper announced from behind the counter, nodding at Gwen. “Nor his.” The second nod was reserved for Timlir.

  “You do tonight,” Malem said.

  The man reached behind the counter and set down a scabbard upon the surface. The cord-wrapped hilt of a longsword protruded from it. “Dwarves and goblings are servants of Vorgon. Servants of Vorgon are not welcome here.”

  “I assure you, these are not servants of Vorgon,” Malem said. “We would eat and drink.”

  “I will not serve you,” the man said.

  Malem took a step forward, but the five men and two women at the table stood menacingly. They weren’t armed, so Malem wasn’t sure what they hoped to prove, considering how much better equipped he and his companions were.

  “All right,” Malem bowed his head. “We’ll spend our coin elsewhere. Good evening to you.”

  They left the inn. Across the street, a woman with an apron stood in the doorway, and beckoned. She was an older woman, with gray hair tucked into a shawl.

  Malem and the others approached.

  “Are you looking for room and board?” she asked.

  “Just a meal,” he replied. “I don’t think we’ll be staying.”

  “You can eat with me.” She glanced both ways, as if worried someone would see. She stepped inside, and beckoned for the others to enter.

  “How much do you want?” Malem asked, reaching for his coin pouch.

  “Nothing,” she said. She beckoned again.

  “I’ll go first,” Xaxia said, hand on her sword hilt.

  Malem and the others followed after her, but no ambush awaited. The woman shut the door, and a short while later Malem found himself seated at a table with his non-dragon companions, eating the cuts of salted meat the woman had prepared for them.

  “What’s your name?” Malem asked.

  “I am Hannah,” she said.

  He introduced the rest of his party.

  When he was done, Hannah kept glancing at Timlir.