Fighter

by Isaac Hooke

  “What?” the dwarf finally said.

  “You’re a dwarf,” she said.

  “My, but you are a keen observer,” Timlir said sarcastically.

  “A band of dwarves has been terrorizing villages in the region,” Hannah continued. “They showed up a short while after news of Vorgon’s fall reached us. Some of us think they’re former members of the demon’s army: those who fled when the Breaker conquered the Balor.”

  “You’ve heard of the Breaker?” Malem asked.

  She nodded.

  “Tell me what you know of him,” Malem pressed.

  “He was a man, corrupted by evil, yet he broke free of it to slay the top lieutenant of Vorgon’s army, the Defiler,” Hannah said. “He went on to slay Vorgon itself.”

  Malem nodded. “Pretty close.” He was debating on whether or not to reveal his identity to her, but chose to hold back for now.

  “And you’re feeding us because you want us to help rid the region of this dwarven scum, is that right?” Xaxia said.

  “Dwarven scum?” Timlir said. “You can’t condemn an entire race based on the acts of a few. That would be like saying all men are bad because bandits attacked a village.”

  “I wasn’t implying all dwarves are bad,” Xaxia said. “You read too much into my comment.”

  “I don’t think all dwarves are evil,” Hannah said. “I wouldn’t have invited you to dinner if I felt that. I knew you weren’t, in fact, based on the company you keep. Though what a strange party you are. A half gobling, if I’m correct. And an elf. Two women in robes, as if they were mages, one of them wearing an odd collar. Yes, a very strange party.”

  Timlir bit into his salted meat. “Tell you what, I’ll hunt these dwarves down myself, to prove to you not all dwarves are bad. I’ll hand their heads to you on a silver platter, my lady.”

  Hannah actually blushed. “That’s very chivalrous of you, my lord.”

  Timlir beamed.

  “Dude, she’s manipulating you,” Xaxia said.

  Timlir shrugged. “Maybe I like being manipulated.”

  “We don’t have time to hunt down rogue dwarves,” Malem said. “If we stopped to help every villager in need, we’d never reach our destination.”

  “Maybe that’s what our captor intends,” Wendolin said suddenly.

  Malem frowned. “Captor? What do you mean?”

  “This isn’t real,” Wendolin said. “This village, it doesn’t exist.”

  “Of course it exists,” he said. He knocked at the wooden table to prove his point.

  “Then why can’t I create branches from this wood?” Wendolin asked.

  Malem frowned. He reached out with his beast sense, and attempted to Break some of the pets he had sensed in the other buildings earlier.

  But he could not. As soon as he wrapped his will around them and squeezed, they vanished as if they weren’t really there.

  That helped him disbelieve it all.

  Just like that, the wooden table vanished, as did the house, and Hannah herself.

  Malem floated in the air, cocooned in some tight fabric. His head was free of those binds, allowing him to look about. It was dark, but his night vision allowed him to see the giant web he was hanging from, attached to the different trees around him. Beside him were Gwen, Wendolin, and Aurora, also wrapped up. Other humanoid shapes were cocooned in the web, as well as smaller bundles that could only represent birds and other animals.

  He spotted a giant spider then, a terrible, eight-legged thing with a swollen abdomen, and a head that was fused with its thorax. It had its back to him, and was dining on one of the larger humanoid bundles. It had its mandibles embedded in the exposed neck, but he otherwise couldn’t see the person’s face.

  He was terrified it was one of his companions, but then the spider shifted, revealing the pale face of an older woman. Hannah.

  How the hell did we end up here? Gwen asked.

  I remember now, Wendolin said. The spider struck from the forest as we passed by. Or rather, its minions did. Look.

  Malem gazed at the silky strands that held him in the air, and saw several ordinary looking spiders, about the size of his thumbnail, lounging on the surface. There were hundreds of them. Thousands.

  Those spiders crawled up my leg, and injected their venom into my exposed flesh, Wendolin said. I’m assuming they did the same to you three.

  What happened to Timlir, Grendel, and Xaxia? Gwen asked.

  Hopefully, they got away, Wendolin said. If not, they’re somewhere here.

  Malem glanced at the other bound humanoids. All of the heads he could see were shriveled, unrecognizable. There were a few that were facing away from him, and he couldn’t tell if they belonged to his companions. None of them were the size of a dwarf, however, so that was a good sign.

  He could sense the other women in his head, but couldn’t quite tell their directions, or distance.

  Metals, we need your help, Malem sent to the dragons bound to him.

  He received no answer, and repeated the call for help.

  Nothing.

  The Metals aren’t answering me, Malem said.

  It’s probably because of the venom, Wendolin said. Weakening your range.

  We’re going to die here, Aurora said. Killed by some stupid spider.

  Wendolin, you’re a tree elf, Gwen said. You must have encountered a spider like this in your travels before? What do we do?

  I haven’t, Wendolin said. The Breaker is just as experienced with forests as me, and I doubt he has encountered anything like this in his travels, either.

  I’ve encountered spiders that ate people, Malem said. In fact, most of the larger varieties do. But never a spider that could summon so many ordinary spiders to do its bidding.

  Did you all just dream we were in the village, and dining with a woman named Hannah? Aurora asked.

  The others said they did.

  Why did we have the same fever dream? Aurora pressed.

  That’s probably because of your link with me, Malem said. When we went under, your minds would have been vulnerable, weak, thanks to that venom. And easy to draw into whatever dream I might have been having. Something I didn’t know I could do.

  You unlock new abilities all the time, huh? Gwen said.

  Not sure it’s “unlocked,” considering I don’t know if I can do it again, he said.

  How did that woman get in our dream by the way? Gwen asked. The one the spider is eating?

  I must have wakened at one point, and spotted her face before falling under again, Malem said.

  So what do we do? Aurora asked. How do we get out of this? I don’t want to die here, trapped in a web, food to some monstrous spider. I feel like I’ve only really lived one year of my life.

  None of us want to die here, Malem agreed. Wendolin, can you access your magic? Use it to animate these trees and break us free?

  No, Wendolin said. The venom has subdued my magic abilities. I can’t make a single thing grow from the surrounding branches.

  Malem reached out, wondering if he could Break the spider. He didn’t sense the tinier arachnids around him, but the spider did in fact show up as a powerful energy bundle. He attempted to wrap his mental tendrils around its mind, but his will evaporated at the touch.

  The spider suddenly raised its fused head and thorax, and turned around on that web. It slowly approached, picking its way across the strands toward him with those hooked feet. Each step caused the thick strands to shake violently so that Malem was jolted up and down.

  Malem… Gwen said.

  Thinking fast, Malem reached further with his mind. He quickly realized he couldn’t range very far, but didn’t need to—he broke the closest bird he found. An owl.

  He sent it flying in at the spider.

  It slammed into the monster’s side, and ruffled its fur with its talons. The spider spun, knocking the owl away. The bird crashed into the web, getting stuck; the smaller spiders swarmed it, quickly paralyzing the bird,
and likely inducing a fever dream similar to the one Malem had experienced. He crushed its will, draining it entirely to take its stamina.

  Better that it feeds me, than the spider.

  The spider turned away from Malem, distracted by this latest prey; it went to the creature, and began wrapping it up with its spinners, apparently wanting to apply a preservative cocoon until it was ready to feed.

  Malem reached out, and Broke several more nocturnal animals and birds nearby.

  Let’s see how well you do against a whole lot more forest dwellers…

  14

  Malem sent the birds in turn toward the spider; they swooped low, not close enough to contact the monster, but enough for their flapping to distract it, so that it tried to swat them out of the air with its hooked legs, or to snap at them with its mandibles.

  Meanwhile, the animals closed. They were frightened of the giant web, apparently having learned to avoid this area of the forest. He had two badgers, a panther, and a hedgehog.

  He told the badgers to climb the tree closest to his location—warning them to watch out for the smaller spiders—and meanwhile instructed the panther to scoop the hedgehog into its mouth; when the big cat was close to the web, it turned its head to the side and swung toward the spider, releasing the hedgehog. The airborne creature rolled itself into a ball and its spines pierced the hide of the spider upon impact. The hedgehog fell away, leaving several spines embedded in the spider—Malem could feel the spike in pain from the monster’s energy bundle.

  The tinier spiders swarmed to the ground, and began crawling toward the animals.

  The latter backed away, as per Malem’s commands.

  The larger spider leaped off its web, landed on the ground, and followed behind the smaller arachnids, stalking toward the panther and hedgehog. Malem half expected the spider to pounce at any moment.

  He gazed at the strands closest to him, and noticed the tinier spiders had all vacated their positions in order to scramble onto the ground and hunt the animals. A quick glance told him that all the nearby strands were rapidly emptying as well as the spiders continued to flow down.

  Perfect.

  He glanced up, and on cue, his badgers crawled onto the outer section of the web where the top strands connected to the tree. From previous dealings with spiders, Malem suspected those threads weren’t sticky: sure enough, the badgers were able to maneuver across them as if they traveled ordinary cords. They pulled themselves along upside-down, hanging underneath the strands, reminding him a little of animals that were part of a high wire act at the circus.

  When they were overhead, the badgers released the topmost thread and landed on two of the very strands that held him. Then they began to saw at the webbing with their powerful jaws.

  You’re a sly bastard, Breaker, Aurora said when she saw what he was doing. Using badgers to cut yourself out of a spider’s web?

  Trust me, animals have gotten me out of worse situations in the past, he said. I wasn’t always a “monster” Breaker, you know.

  Oh, I believe you, she said. Just free me next.

  Malem bridled at being told who to free next, and made a mental note to cut her down last.

  The strands broke free, rather silently, thankfully, so that the spider and its arachnids didn’t notice. The monster still continued to stalk the panther and hedgehog, which retreated at just the right pace to stay away from the incoming swarm, while keeping the monster interested.

  The badgers leaped onto the next two threads and severed them with their powerful jaws. With those particular strands free, the webbing that held Malem’s upper body in place loosened: when he shoved against it, the silk shifted. It also wasn’t sticky. He pressed harder, and rotated his hands outward to get a better grip; in moments he had forced his way through and freed his hands.

  He slid the cocoon down to his waist, but was unable to free himself entirely, as the lower strands were still intact and connected to the web, which had the effect of pulling the wrappings taut there.

  So he drew Balethorn—the blade had the sense to remain quiet for once—and quickly sawed through the remaining threads that held him, beating the badgers to the task.

  He dropped to the ground with a soft thud.

  The spider paused, as if listening, and he froze. He waited, unmoving, until the monster proceeded toward the panther and hedgehog once more, following its smaller arachnids, which hadn’t stopped their pursuit.

  He slid off the bottom portion of the cocoon—it was like pulling his legs out of a sleeping bag—and then scrambled to his feet.

  He proceeded to cut down Gwen and Wendolin, who fell with successive thuds.

  What about me? Aurora said.

  Coming, Malem replied.

  But the big spider turned around.

  Shit.

  The horde turned back, abandoning the panther and hedgehog, heading toward him.

  He raced to Aurora and hacked frantically.

  “Open my collar!” Aurora said. “And give me the sword. I can drain these foes, and we’ll be done here!”

  Malem was tempted to do just that.

  “Where are dragons when you need them?” Wendolin said. She was backing away, having produced the trident that she used when without her magic.

  “We could certainly use some fire now,” Gwen said.

  The half gobling unleashed arrows from Wasp at the spider. She scored two hits, and the spider screeched; apparently the monster decided it was time to stop playing with its food, because it leaped across the tinier spiders, and landed on Gwen, pinning her to the ground.

  Those big mandibles opened, and were about to rip open her throat, when Malem turned from Aurora, abandoning her to plunge Balethorn into its mouth.

  The spider screamed one final time and backed away, ripping the blade from Malem’s hands. The sword guard and hilt protruded from its mouth as the two mandibles convulsed repeatedly. The monster continued to retreat, stepping upon the spiders it had gathered, until finally it collapsed amongst its brethren.

  The arachnids, no longer guided by the main spider, dispersed.

  “Well, that was fun,” Aurora said, still partially hanging from the web. “Can you cut me down now?”

  He instructed the badgers to go to Aurora.

  Meanwhile, Malem approached the spider, and the smaller arachnids scattered before him, clearing a path. He reached his defeated foe: black liquid oozed onto the ground, spilling from the monster’s mandibles, sourced from the wound the blade had inflicted.

  He wrapped his fingers around the hilt, and withdrew Balethorn, drawing out a fresh stream of blade liquid in the process.

  He gained no stamina for the kill, which wasn’t surprising.

  He turned toward Aurora, but Gwen spoke: “The arachnids!”

  He glanced at the things: the horde of little spiders had turned around, and were swarming toward Malem and the others once more.

  Another big spider was slowly, carefully, stalking down the tree. This one was much larger than the last.

  Aurora dropped to the ground as the badgers freed her. Malem promptly dismissed the animals, and told them to get the hell out of here. He did the same for the panther and hedgehog.

  Aurora shucked off the cocoon and scrambled to her feet.

  “There’s two of them,” Aurora said urgently as another spider followed the first.

  “Not two,” Wendolin said. “A whole family.” She nodded at the treetops.

  Malem glanced at where the webbing joined the trees. Other spiders were slowly clambering down.

  He attempted to wrap his will around them in turn, but it evaporated for all of them. They’re too strong.

  “Aurora, come here,” Malem said. Keeping Balethorn in hand, with his free arm he lowered his backpack to the ground. He reached inside, and delved out the small, icepick-like key to the collar.

  When she arrived, he said: “Turn around.”

  She obeyed.

  Malem inserted the key, as W
endolin had instructed him, until he heard a click. Then he slid the collar free.

  Aurora remained in his mind.

  Still, she glanced at him, shocked that he had removed the collar. But that shock quickly became replaced with malicious glee.

  “Now give me my sword,” she ordered him.

  I’m still in your head, he told her.

  The glee vanished from those eyes, replaced by panic.

  Am I bound to you for the rest of my life? she asked.

  No, he replied. At least, I don’t think so. I believe I can set you free, as I would an ordinary monster.

  Then do it! she said.

  He lowered Balethorn to the ground and unhooked the crystal sword from his side. He tossed it to Aurora, who caught it in surprise.

  Weaken these monsters first, he sent. Don’t kill them.

  She smiled malevolently, then turned away and raised the blade. Pale mist arose from the ground, curling underneath the large spiders, and the creatures stopped in surprise.

  As that mist hit them, the spiders began to spasm, and Aurora’s ruby blade began to glow a bright red. One of the spiders turned around and tried to run back up the tree, but a tendril of mist wrapped around its leg and pulled the spider back down.

  In moments, nearly all of them were on the ground, lying on their backs, their legs crimped in death above them.

  “I said to weaken them, not kill them,” Malem scolded Aurora.

  “Whoops,” she said.

  He could feel the fresh stamina literally flooding through her veins. She was gazing hungrily into the sword, its red light flickering across her face, lighting the forest around them.

  He drained the stamina from her, causing that light to go out.

  She spun toward him. “Hey!”

  But he clicked the collar back around her neck as she did so.

  “You said you would set me free!” She angrily swung at him with the crystal sword, but he dodged it.

  The trees suddenly collapsed overhead, and a chromium landed beside them.

  “There you are,” Sylfi said. “Finally. I spotted that beacon you made.” She carried Grendel.

  “Just a second,” Malem told Sylfi, spinning back toward Aurora. “Give me the sword.”