by Rachel Aaron
With that, the towering elf fanned his ash-gray wings wide and lifted back into the air.
Holy shit! Tina thought as he rose. That was just supposed to be pregame smack talk. The boss wasn’t supposed to come at them now. But he was plunging straight at her, which meant they were really about to do this. Right now.
“Plan A, everyone!” she bellowed, yanking her shield up. “Go! Go! Go!”
Her yells snapped the players out of their shock, and the ranks behind her broke into chaos. The Roughnecks leaped forward to get into position around her while Cinco’s Red Sands bolted for the crumbling old walls on the roadside for cover. Tina couldn’t tell if Garrond’s troops were following the plan and fanning out to surround the area, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off the enemy to check. Her vision was filled with the Once King as he surged forward. He dove at her from the gray sky like a falcon, his ghostfire-wreathed sword leaving a glowing trail in the air behind him as he aimed it straight for her head.
“Frank!” she screamed, hunkering down.
Her fellow tank was at her side in an instant. Just like in their training, Tina slammed her shield into the ground and wedged her shoulder against Frank’s to lock their guards. “Steady Ground!” they called out in unison as the ashy soil beneath their boots turned to bedrock, anchoring the two tanks in place. A split second later, the unstoppable force that was FFO’s most powerful five-skull slammed into their shield wall.
Their armor screamed under the impact, and an explosion of ghostfire blew sky high, turning the bottoms of the low clouds from gray to ghostly white. For a horrible moment, Tina was sure her shield was about to disintegrate from the pressure, but the divine sun steel held together, splitting the attack into a Y of shockwaves that roared out behind them, pulverizing the road and knocking scores of Order soldiers over like bowling pins.
It rattled Tina as well. Even with her shield directing the force around her, the impact of the Once King’s hit was still enough to rattle her around inside her armor like a nut in a shell. A few days ago, that would have left her staggering, but she’d learned over and over during the practice fights with Gregory that the five-skulls didn’t daze like she did. If she staggered or flinched, showed any weakness at all, it was over, so she sucked up the hit and stood firm, waiting behind her defense until, at last, an elegant hand wrapped in glittering black armor slid into her view to grab the lip of her shield.
Tina whipped her shield out of the way and lurched backward. The Once King’s burning blade shot through the opening she’d left only to land on Frank’s shield as he stepped into the gap with practiced precision, freeing Tina to whirl around and bash her giant bulwark into the Once King’s now undefended right side. Killbox moved at the same time, attacking with his giant ax from the king’s swordless left. Meanwhile, ZeroDarkness and SilentBlayde emerged halfway from the shadows at the king’s feet, their long blades going for his hamstrings.
It all went beautifully. The five of them came together even faster than they had during practice, but quick as they’d been, their attack hit only air. With a blast of his giant wings, the Once King launched up and backward, escaping their trap to land safely fifty feet away.
As his black boots touched down gracefully in the dust, despair hit Tina like a punch in the gut. That had been one of their best combos against Gregory, and they hadn’t even scratched him. She was starting to wonder if his bravado earlier hadn’t been just talk—if they really were totally outmatched—when the king lifted his face, and she saw his eyes were wide with surprise. It was just a flash, a momentary crack before the mask of haughtiness slammed back into place, but it was enough.
“HA!” she cried, pointing her sword at him. “Almost got ya, didn’t we? How’s it feel now that you don’t have bullshit game mechanics to hide behind?”
“You are rash,” the Once King replied, sheathing his sword in the blink of an eye. “As you have been freed of the Nightmare’s arbitrary limitations, so too have I.”
He raised his hands as he spoke. Behind him, all the ghostfire in the fortress followed the motion, the blue-white flames shooting high from their sconces, leaping up to meet their king. As the undead fire flared, the Once King’s hands began to glow bright purple, and Tina’s heart stopped. She knew that casting animation. It had been beaten into her subconscious over countless nights of wipes and defeats. This time, though, she knew what to do.
“It’s the Million Damage Blast!” she yelled, shoving Frank out of the way as she charged ahead. “I’ve got it! Get ready to rez me!”
The Once King didn’t move as she ran at him, sliding to a halt practically on top of his feet. The king was even taller up close, his head a solid two feet above Roxxy’s already impressive eight. But though she was now close enough to stab him without even stretching, the Once King didn’t even flinch.
“Foolish child,” he said, his deep voice strained from the effort of controlling the enormous magic flaring in his hands. “Raise Ally will not undo this damage. Even Garrond cannot save you.”
The Once King’s calm words poured ice into her veins, but Tina refused to step back. This was it. It had come much faster than she’d expected, but this was the moment they’d trained for. All those times she’d been burned learning Fiona’s technique, all her promises to Gregory and the Roughnecks and herself. This was it. If she couldn’t take this hit, it was over, so Tina swallowed her fear and slammed her shield down practically on top of the Once King’s toes, roaring her defiance in his face.
“Earthen Fortitude!” she bellowed. And then, “One For All!”
The gloating look vanished from the Once King’s face. “How do you know that technique?”
Tina’s answer was a cocky grin, because the flaring magic in his hands had already reached its unstoppable crescendo. She was lifting her finger to flick him off one last time when she heard a familiar voice screaming over the roar.
“Tina, no!” SilentBlayde cried, his terrified voice somewhere to her right. “It’s the wrong color!”
With those words, Tina’s confidence collapsed, because he was right. The casting motion was the same as what she remembered, but the Million Damage Blast was made from ghostfire, which meant it glowed blue-white. This spell was purple, which was a color she’d never seen the Once King use before.
Shit.
The king smiled cruelly as the realization dawned on Tina’s face. It was the wrong spell. She’d used One For All on the wrong spell. She didn’t even know what this one did, but it was far too late to escape. Violet energies were already erupting from the Once King’s hands. The pulse was bright enough to light up the entire valley, huge enough to hit every person in her army before One For All grabbed it by the horns and turned it back around, forcing the enormous magic into a single spear aimed right at her.
As it turned, all Tina could think about was how much bigger this was than Richard’s Fire Tornado. Grabbing that spell had felt like catching an out-of-control fire hose. This was like trying to wrestle the sea. But while Tina was more sure than ever that she’d fucked up, she didn’t dare let the spell go. It might not be the MDB, but whatever the purple magic did, she was certain it meant the Roughnecks no good, which meant it was her job to stop it. She just hoped someone was waiting with a rez, because this was going to hurt.
That was Tina’s last thought before the iron grip of One For All crashed the valley-sized spell down on top of her. As the purple energy flooded into her body, her insides went wham, then spin, then wham again, turning the world to blurry slush as Tina slid into the dark.
***
This couldn’t be happening.
SilentBlayde blinked furiously to clear the purple flash from his eyes as he scrambled over the broken ground toward Tina. With every step, he reminded himself that this was the plan. Even if she’d grabbed the wrong spell, she’d told the raid to expect this. The healers knew. They were probably casting a resurrection right this moment. That knowledge was little comfort when h
e was running over stones that had been turned to sand by the Once King’s blast, but he clung to it anyway, because it was all he had. His mission now was to get Tina’s body away from the Once King so the healers could do their job, but when his eyes finally cleared enough to see what was actually in front of him, the sight that waited knocked all those plans clean out of his head.
When he’d last seen Tina, before the blast went off, she’d been standing in front of the Once King as strong and defiant as a mountain. Now, though, he saw nothing. The Once King was still there—doubled over from the impact of the spell but still clearly up and kicking—but the road in front of him was empty. All that was left of the place where Tina had made her stand was a blackened crater with a glittering heap of sun steel armor at the bottom.
Empty armor.
The world slowed to a crawl. In the crater, the golden armor that had once held Roxxy clattered on the dusty ground. Her shield fell on top of it as he watched, the huge length of the tower toppling over like a felled tree. It was still crashing onto the pile when he dashed forward, moving faster than he’d ever moved before.
But still not fast enough. He reached the armor before the shield hit the ground, but it didn’t matter, because Tina wasn’t there. Just empty pieces of metal clattering on the ground like a shed husk. Above him, the Once King groaned and sagged, staring at the empty armor as if he didn’t know what to make of it either. Then, suddenly, he laughed.
“So that’s who you really are,” he whispered in a quiet, amused voice. “Not what I expected of the Roughnecks’ great leader.”
There was more, but SilentBlayde couldn’t hear it over his pounding heart. He’d never known such terror or despair as he did at that moment, digging through the heavy golden armor for any sign of Tina. She had to be there. Even if she was crushed, there had to be something they could resurrect. Something he could save. She couldn’t be gone. He refused to accept it.
She couldn’t really be gone.
That thought sent his panic to nearly debilitating levels. Almost from the moment he’d met Tina when they were both level one, he’d been enamored. The infatuation that had sparked that first day in Bastion had quickly flared into an impossible love. For seven years, his entire life had revolved around being with Tina as much as possible, because he knew their time was limited. She wasn’t trapped like him. He’d always known she’d eventually move on from FFO, get busy with a career and out-of-game responsibilities, maybe even start a family. He’d lived in constant dread of the day she’d get on and tell him she’d gotten a boyfriend, or didn’t get on at all. Dreaded the day he would lose her.
The transition had saved him from all of that. SilentBlayde had supported Tina’s efforts to go home because supporting her was what he did, but he’d always known their efforts to find a way back had been little more than grasping at straws. That was why he’d come back to the Roughnecks even when everyone had told him to leave. He knew if he could just stay in her life long enough, he’d find a way to salvage things eventually. They were finally both together in the same place, and he loved her so much. There had to be a way to fix the damage he’d done in Bastion. He’d just needed more time to figure it out.
But now, in one purple flash, all that time was gone. Above him, the Once King was retreating, staggering back from Tina’s crater to his fortress. It was the weakest the elf had ever looked, but the thought of chasing him for a finishing blow never even entered Blayde’s mind. He was too busy clawing through Tina’s armor, shoving the hundred-pound, stonekin-sized pieces aside for a sign—any sign—that what his eyes were telling him was wrong.
Dimly, in the distance, he saw Frank and Killbox running in to join him, but while he could definitely have used the extra muscle, SB was too frantic to wait. With a shove that took all his strength, he heaved her giant breastplate out of the dust and forced himself to look inside, determined to save what was left of her, even if it was only ashes. But as he stared into the huge cavern of armor that had protected Roxxy’s stone chest, he saw something that made his frantic shaking go utterly still.
Inside the curve of the sun steel, curled into a tiny ball of pink and white, was a girl. She was very small, thin as a rail, and barely five feet tall with fine curly hair that surrounded her head like a chestnut storm cloud. Her face was turned away from him, but that didn’t matter. SB would know her anywhere. It was Tina. Not Roxxy but Tina: The real, beautiful, flesh-and-blood person.
By this point, several more Roughnecks had run up to join him. Ignoring the chaos of their shouted questions, Blayde reached into the armor with shaking hands, his eyes wide with a hope so desperate and terrifying it hurt. When he slid his trembling fingers under her, her bare skin was soft and so warm he could feel it even through his gloves. Her chest moved as he watched, her narrow ribcage rising and falling with her breath. The movement made his own chest ache, because she was alive. Tina was alive.
And very, very naked.
Too relieved to be embarrassed, SB tore the cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around her body. She was so short the red silk half cape covered her all the way to her knees. Lifting her gently, he pulled her into his arms next, cradling her body against his as he scrambled out of the crater. He had to get Tina away from here. He didn’t know if the fight was over or if the Once King had just temporarily stepped back, but he had to get her away from him. She was so small. So delicate and mortal and not made of stone. He could already feel the warmth leaving her body as the cold of the Deadlands crept in, making her shiver violently. Clutching her shape protectively to his, SB was about to turn and bolt when someone caught his arm.
He whirled around to see Frank’s pale face. He was about to order the tank to let go of him when a long shadow fell over them both. Curling his body around Tina’s, SB raised his head to see that the Once King had jumped back up to the mountain’s lowest ring battlements. That was still way too close, but the king no longer looked in the mood for a fight. He actually looked like he was having trouble staying upright, gripping the stone for support with one armored hand as he sneered down at them.
“It seems that fate favors no one this day,” he said, his booming voice clearly straining not to wobble. “Very well, then. We shall have our battle in the way of the game after all. If you can make it through my fortress in one piece, I will deign to fight you all again. Until then, think on my offer. Your deaths are inevitable, but I am always glad to free a soul from suffering. You do not have to endure this world. When we meet again, I will grant you peace.”
With that, the Once King turned with a dramatic swish of his feathery wings and walked away. There was no magic, no dramatic launch. He just strode back into the battlements, his motions stiff as if he were trying to hide a limp as he vanished into the fortifications of the Dead Mountain.
When he was gone, SilentBlayde gave the order he’d been dying to give all morning. “Roughnecks, retreat!”
The words rang clear and loud through the shocked silence, but nobody moved. Instead, the raid looked at Zen, whom SB hadn’t even noticed was standing less than a foot away.
The Ranger looked like death. Gray ash coated her dark skin, and there was blood dripping through her green hair from a wound on her temple, which surprised him. He hadn’t seen Zen get hit, but then, he hadn’t been paying attention to anything except Tina. Maybe it was a good thing he’d been demoted, because even now, he didn’t care about her wounds or the rest of the raid. All he cared about was getting Tina to safety. He was about to carry her away when Zen grabbed his arm.
“Fuck,” she whispered, her green eyes wide as she stared at the small, naked girl fiercely guarded by SB’s arms and cloak. “Is that—”
He nodded, and the Ranger swore again. “We’re retreating!” she cried, looking over her shoulder at the stunned raid. “Everyone fall back to camp!”
No one argued, not even Garrond. As quickly as they’d rolled up, the army retreated from the front of the Dead Mountain. As the cro
wd started to move, Zen put her hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Get her gear,” she said quietly, tilting her head at the glittering pile of Tina’s legendary armor on the ground.
Frank nodded and hunched over, gathering Tina’s things into his arms. It was so huge that Killbox had to help as well. When the two of them had picked it all up, Zen motioned for everyone to follow her back to the protective circle of the Roughnecks.
SB’s poor, overworked heart clenched in appreciation. While Red Sands and Garrond’s troops had beat a hasty retreat, the Roughnecks had moved in closer to form a wall. When Zen gave the order to move out, Blayde found himself surrounded by a ring of his fellow officers, which he would have found comforting if they hadn’t slowed him down. It wasn’t that they were dragging their feet—everyone was so eager to get away from the Once King that they were practically running—but no one could move as fast as he could, and Tina’s body was getting colder by the second. His cloak wasn’t anywhere near thick enough for the biting cold of the Deadlands, and she was so small. So tiny and fragile and vulnerable, her breaths coming in little puffs through the gap in the cloth that covered her face. He was picking up the pace when she shifted slightly in his arms, pressing her nose against his chest as she burrowed for warmth.
It got harder to think after that. He was dimly aware of Garrond and Cinco shouting orders as they reentered the camp they’d set up at the entrance to the Dead Mountain’s valley the previous night, but he didn’t really pay attention to the rest of the army. His focus was on Tina’s breathing, the irrefutable proof that she was alive.
She was alive.
He began to shake again as the relief and wonder he’d felt when he’d first picked her out of the crater crashed over him once more. It still didn’t seem possible, but the proof was right there in his arms. Tina wasn’t dead. He hadn’t lost her forever. She was here, not as stone but as her real self. It was a miracle, a true miracle, one of many he’d experienced since this began.
