Knives in the Night

by Nathan A. Thompson

  About seven or eight warnings cried out at me simultaneously through the mindlink, and all came too late. Something hot, heavy, and sharp impacted against my back, tearing through my Script and Ideal wards easily. I felt scales on my hauberk crunch as the edge of the weapon halted against the light Woad chain mail I wore underneath. Thankfully, my Dark Icon hide-lined gambeson blunted most of the weapon’s impact, and the Ice and Water magic kept most of the accompanying heat at bay.

  These layers of defense were mercifully enough to prevent my attacker from slashing through my flesh and into my spinal cord, and deflected the heat of his magical fire from cooking my muscles from the inside out.

  However, they were not enough to keep the blow from taking a giant chunk out of my vital guard and otherwise hurting like hell.

  I staggered forward and thrust the spike-tipped butt of my spear backwards. My unseen enemy parried the attack easily, but it at least gave me enough time to regain my balance and get a good view of him.

  It was the head Spawn of the group, the one who had challenged me from across the Pit. Somehow, he had closed the distance without anyone noticing until the last minute.

  Teleported! I heard Breena warn through the mindlink as she fluttered around and blasted a Howler trying to swipe her out of the air. He can teleport in the blink of an eye! Be careful, Wes!

  I swung Shard around again, but the empowered Spawn deflected it with Practitioner-level skill and slashed his flame-wreathed sword at my neck.

  I dodged to the right, swung a third time, and the nine-foot monster parried effortlessly, once again deflecting my blow. Then he stepped forward to close the distance and render my polearm useless.

  I retreated just in time to leave room to strike out, swinging the blade of my poleaxe at his face. He deflected that blow as well, but as luck would have it, he struck it away at an angle that allowed me to turn my swing into a thrust at his neck.

  This finally surprised the bastard, but he merely twisted slightly to take the hit on his gorget. Although my weapon tore deep, ice-rimmed rents into the dark iron, enchanted plate armor was still enchanted plate armor. My would-be deadly thrust merely skidded along the angle of his superior protection and glided out of position.

  The massive Spawn wasted no time in bringing himself too close for me to use my long weapon easily, intense hatred burning behind his eyes.

  His free hand reached for my throat.

  Smiling, I dismissed Shard and stabbed the appendage with Carnwennan.

  He roared in pain and surprise, apparently not realizing just how quickly I could pull different weapons out of mid-air. While my dagger poked a hole in his unarmored palm, I grabbed the horse-man’s wrist with my free hand, twisted my hips, and pulled.

  Since he was already reaching for me, forcing him to overextend pulled him off balance for a moment, even though he was too large for me to trip as I had the Howler.

  Instead, I yanked his arm straight out and stabbed into one of the seams between his plates. Carnwennan pierced through the underlying mail and padding easily, and the monster let out another anguished cry.

  Furious, he yanked free of my grip and elbowed me in the face.

  My vision exploded with pain as his armored elbow broke through my protective wards and impacted my unarmored nose. As I felt my vital guard work to undo the broken cartilage, I activated Carnwennan’s shroud and rolled backwards.

  Heat washed over me as the Spawn swung his flaming sword at the space where I’d stood a moment ago, while I landed on one knee, vision clear again. The horse-faced Spawn’s eyes narrowed as he stared in my direction, no doubt able to roughly guess my location with his other senses. That was fine. I charged at him, and he predictably swung his weapon at me again.

  However, it was deflected at the last moment by my hastily summoned Woad shield, and though my arm rang with the impact, the block held. Grinning, I closed the rest of the distance between us and stabbed him.

  This time, I turned Breaker into its second form—Claimh Solais, the sword of light. I aimed the short blade for the seam in the Spawn’s waist, but he twisted, and my blow struck higher on his breastplate instead.

  To my surprise, the sword of the Woadlands didn’t slide off in the same fashion that Shard had. The basket-hilted blade punched straight through, and while it didn’t completely penetrate, my blow dented and warped the armor considerably.

  My enemy screamed and attempted to backhand me, but I turned my head to take the blow on my helmet instead.

  Activated Script wards absorbed most of the force, and my helm, coif, and padding took the rest. It hurt no more than a normal punch, and thanks to my vital guard, I recovered quickly, slashing at my enemy’s leg and catching a seam.

  The wound glowed with yellow light, and the powerful Spawn released a horrified neigh-like scream as he staggered away from me.

  He whipped his flaming sword desperately in front of himself, clearly trying to ward me away long enough to allow him to recover from the agony of Claimh Solais’ injury. I heard his leg sizzle as it tried to expel the bright energy that Breaker’s short blade had pushed into it.

  But despite his injured state, he was still able to stand. This lone Spawn was currently lasting longer than any other enemy I had fought so far, save the ones responsible for the Tumults themselves, like the Nuckelavee or the Hoarfolk monarch.

  And those had required me to activate my second form.

  I didn’t want to do that here. It would take days or longer for me to regain the ability, and I probably had even stronger Horde to fight, like those Pit Knights that Chris had warned me about, or another Dark Icon patron.

  So I pressed the attack, stabbing out with the weapon I probably should have started the fight with. As I drove him back, I used my round Woad shield to knock my enemy’s flaming blade out of position, then stabbed at any part of him I could reach. The Sword of Light dented and seared every black plate it struck, tearing right through the enemy’s chain and padding whenever it found a seam. It still took far too long—the Spawn commander’s vital guard was incredibly dense, and the plate armor still managed to protect his vitals—but in the end, my enemy finally fell on his back, snarling in tortured loathing as his body glowed from a half-dozen open wounds.

  I walked over to his head, frowning in annoyance at how long it had taken to drop him. My enemy struck out at me with one last desperate swing, but my own blade flashed at his hand and disarmed him.

  Tired of his stubborn tenacity, I stomped one of his joints to immobilize him, stabbed him through the face, and then went to help my retinue mop up the rest of this annoyingly long battle.

  Just then, a giant, skinless, canine maw ripped its way out of the center of the Horde Pit and howled at me.

  CHAPTER 13: FIGHTING DIRTY

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I snarled as a giant wolf, resembling the one who had attacked Avalon, slowly heaved its way out of the Horde muck.

  “Our work is complete,” the wounded Spawn rasped from the floor. “This is the beginning of your end, traitor-prince… and the start of my people’s salvation.”

  “‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results,’” I quoted at the horse-faced idiot as the Dark Icon slammed a massive paw on the ground in front of the Pit. Then I opened my grip enough to blast the false prophet in the face with five finger-bolts. He jerked, gurgled, and went still.

  I wasn’t completely sure he was dead, but that was all the time I could afford to spare for him, because I had a much bigger threat to fight.

  Presumably.

  I risked a quick glance at my team and confirmed that everyone was still dealing with their respective enemies. Breena and Petal were zipping around, shooting Howlers in the face and casting healing magic on my people whenever they got hurt. Breyn and Eadric were still battling the other two plate-armored Spawn and slowly winning, like I had. But without them to form a front line, the rest of the surviving Howlers had rus
hed for the archers and primary casters. So Karim and Gabin fought back to back with their spear and staff, and Salima and Weylin did the same with their light blades. Every now and then, a Howler would randomly rear back, scream, and fall over, and then Val would materialize over its head to slash its throat, then vanish again.

  While I was taking stock of my people’s status, the massive lupine demigod growled at me, demanding that I turn my attention back to him.

  “GREETINGS, MURDERER OF MY FOREBEAR. ARE YOU PREPARED FOR RETRIBUTION?”

  Val, once I’ve got them all busy and nothing is near the Pit, go ahead and do the thing we talked about, I sent to my adopted sister as I strode forward, pointing my sword at the wolf and accepting his challenge.

  “What retribution?” I demanded fiercely. “You think you’re stronger than the last giant furball that I killed? Come at me! I’ll face you all by myself!”

  That’s a lie, by the way, I sent to my retinue through the mindlink. If you can finish your own fights in time, go ahead and stab this thing in the back. Unless he’s ridiculously powerful. Then we retreat.

  Raw-Maw the Second howled again, and charged for me, his massive form reaching me in moments.

  I read his attack perfectly, side-stepping his bite and slicing my glowing sword around in a complete circle.

  Light blasted out of my weapon, creating a broad ring of golden light that spread throughout the room. Raw-Maw Jr.’s leg sizzled under the blast from my beam, and great chunks of plate armor shattered off the two remaining Spawn.

  Most of the remaining Howlers were completely bisected, although a few only lost an arm or a leg. The light passed harmlessly through my own allies, and suddenly, the fight was mostly clear.

  The Dark Icon howled again, but his smoking leg was still functioning. He rounded quickly and snapped at my face.

  I dodged easily and slashed his skinless muzzle, leaving behind a glowing cut.

  He snarled wrathfully, lunged at me again, missed again, and was cut again.

  He’s not any stronger than the last Raw-Maw, I realized, as the monster finally lowered his head and tried to bowl me over. Unluckily for him, I equipped my shield and braced for impact.

  Just like in the battle of Avalon, the monster’s charge made me skid several feet, and that was it.

  He got another slash for his trouble, and he reared away from me defensively.

  We locked eyes for a moment, fully taking each other in. I noted the sizzling wounds on his face, watched his great yellow, blood-shot eyes widen in comprehension.

  But it wasn’t mutual. I couldn’t understand why they had chosen this creature as their trump card, a carbon copy of a monster I had already slain a long time ago.

  Back then, my Traits hadn’t even reached the two hundreds. And despite that, with my two powerful forms, and with Breena and the others enhancing me so much that they had actually damaged themselves in the process, I had been able to fight the Dark Icon on roughly equal terms.

  At this moment, without any enhancements at all, I was at least as strong as I had been back then. With my normal enhancement spells active, my Traits were even stronger.

  Naturally, my current gear was also better, and my Skills were much more advanced. A creature like this was only a match for me on my worst days, and even then, that wasn’t taking into account the fact that I had a larger and stronger team at my back.

  “GROWN,” the monster rumbled. “THE TRAITOR-PRINCE HAS GROWN. DESPITE THE CORRUPTION OF HIS BIRTHRIGHT.”

  “So, you’re saying I turned out okay, even though I didn’t go to that fancy private school the family wanted me to enroll in?” I asked sarcastically, throwing another glance to the battle my team was fighting. The last of the Howlers were dying, and the two Spawn were panting and swaying as they struggled to withstand all the magic being thrown at them. I couldn’t immediately locate Val, but the Pit was clearly agitated, the muck independently sloshing about inside.

  I hoped that wouldn’t hurt any of its victims, but Breena had told me that it was actually difficult for them to die unless the Pit itself was destroyed.

  “I HAD HOPED TO BE ABLE TO TAKE YOUR HEAD MYSELF,” Raw-Mutt the Second said, not replying to my clever barb, “BUT I WILL SETTLE FOR SHARING WHAT KNOWLEDGE I CAN.”

  “How would you—” I started to say, then interrupted myself. Val, get ready to destroy the Pit.

  I switched Claimh Solais, the short golden blade with its v-pronged guards for Colada, the blade of fear’s bane, a slightly longer, silvery broadsword with a basket hilt. As I struck the rim of my shield with the flat of the blade, the weapon rang with an odd tone.

  My adrenaline surged, and I felt the same happen to everyone else in the mindlink. By contrast, the two Spawn screamed with terror and clutched their heads, unable to prevent their own deaths as they were overwhelmed by my retinue. Raw-Maw let out a strangled yelp as he scrambled fearfully away from me, tail tucked between his legs.

  I charged his retreating form and slashed my sword across his throat. Once again, Breaker cut deep, and as the massive Dark Icon gurgled, I dove further beneath him and stabbed upward, where I suspected his vitals would be.

  As my debilitated enemy writhed impotently, I searched with my blade until I felt it penetrating something important. I immediately triggered my Outer Current spell and discharged electricity into what I hoped was an extremely vital organ.

  As my magic fried the coward’s innards, I heard multiple arrows and blasts of magic impact the Nascent Dark Icon. Raw-Maw—there was no point in calling him a different name—tumbled to the ground, his most grievously wounded leg giving out.

  As he fell, he released an eerie, strange howl.

  He’s dying, but we need to hurry, Teeth said in my mind.

  I felt his urgency and instinctively understood what I needed to do.

  Reaching into the monster’s closest wound, I cast Vein to Vein. The Blood magic spell began to drain out the monster’s flesh, magic, and memories.

  Teeth and I braced ourselves. Raw-Maw wasn’t even comparable to the Nuckelavee or the Tidefather, but he was still a Nascent Dark Icon. Even though I had straight up eaten a good chunk of his predecessor’s spirit, there was still going to be an alien nature to his mind that I would have trouble comprehending.

  I threw my Rise-enhanced mind and Will at it anyway, forcing the power, knowledge, memories, and even flesh to flow where I directed them. Most of the flesh, I couldn’t use, obviously, but I broke down what I could and used it to bond with my own mass, reinforcing bones, muscles, and even blood vessels. I felt Teeth soothe the process, using his dragon nature to ensure that everything was properly consumed and adjusted.

  The monster’s power was next. It surprised me over just how little there was, despite how one-sided our fight had been. I felt my senses enhance a bit further and my vocal cords supernaturally strengthen, but that was it. There wasn’t even any Ideal magic to absorb. This thing had been bred and promoted to Dark Icon status for just one reason.

  I had already expected that. But as I reached into the thing’s memories to ascertain why he had been designed the way he was, I found what I was expecting.

  And much, much worse.

  This Dark Icon, just like the last, had been thrown together. He had acquired the bare minimum of power, and had then been given what he needed to accomplish his primary goal.

  To find me, report on my abilities, and then pass that knowledge back to the ruler of the Lost Deeps.

  He was performing the final aspect right now, even as he died. Revealing said ruler of the Lost Deeps to me, for the first time.

  I caught a glimpse of a literal sea of Horde, and then of a figure beyond the size of even the Tidefather—perhaps even bigger than the city-spanning Flood. Massive muscles rippled under giant scales, the natural armor plating a body that was easily taller than the largest skyscraper back on Earth. The keratinous scales varied in color, from red, to black, to steely gray, fading to other shades that we
re concealed by the shadows along its body. The higher my eyes rose, the denser the gloom became, until I could see nothing more than vague writhing shapes, as though some giant mountain had grown tentacles at its peak.

  I see you.

  The sinister voice whispered in my mind, echoing as if it were slithering through a massive cavern. It sounded familiar, reminding me of the ghostly dragon who had spoken to me in my battle with the first Raw-Maw.

  I seeee youuuu, the voice repeated, sounding strangely gleeful and somehow completely unfamiliar, despite being an echo.

  It was then that I realized that it was not an echo, but a new voice altogether, one which sounded as if it were traveling up a dark hole to reach me.