“Wait,” Nyx mutters, freeing her hands from the step. She is still too stunned to do more than feebly swing a leg to solid ground. “Don’t do what I think you’re going to do. Dammit, I can’t even hear myself over the trolls.”
Unable to stop Delvin, the violet-eyed channeler can only shake her head clear of the fog and watch him charge. His sword is throbbing with amber energy that coils from his hand and he moves along the uneven ground as if running on flat ground. With a shout, the swordsman strikes the ceiling and sends the square door flying off its hinges. Turning to help Nyx, he seems surprised that she is clambering up and scowling. The advancing trolls prevent them from talking as they rush into the upper chamber, the impatient champions squeezing through the hole at the same time. Emerging at the edge of a lush garden of trees and flowers, they begin to worry when Nyx’s attempt to make a barrier is met with crackling failure. Needing more time, she leans back through the opening and hurls a blast of force down the stairwell to knock the nearest monsters away. The half-elf can still see several on the steps, so she grabs Delvin’s hand and leads him further into the garden.
“I’m starting to regret falling in love you, Cunningham.”
“Yeah, I’m hating myself too right now.”
*****
Using a small fire blade on her finger, Nyx stretches to slice through the flowery vine that is wrapped around Delvin’s throat. At the same time, the warrior swings his sword to free the half-elf’s leg from another plant. Slowed down by the hungry garden, the champions whirl around to fend off three trolls that have caught up to them. Nyx sends one of the monsters flying back with a prismatic orb that explodes into a shower of blinding mist. The others are sliced in half by Delvin, who turns to continue leading the way across the squirming garden. He hacks and cleaves a path through the reaching vines and toothy flowers while the sound of trolls echoes from every corner. A burst of heat on his shoulder warns him to stand still, Nyx’s tiny fireball hurtling by his head to explode against an icy bulb that is rocketing out of the bushes. Whirling around, Delvin stabs under the half-elf’s arm to impale a carnivorous tree that is silently crawling behind her. He unleashes a charge of aura to make the plant explode, the steaming chunks pelting the exhausted champions.
“We can’t keep this up for much longer,” Nyx gasps while trying to create a fireball that is as big as her body. A burst of water strikes from lotuses that grow out of the ceiling and shrink the spell to the size of her fist. “Those things are limiting my magic. I can set small things on fire, but they keep putting out the big ones. Not to mention the lightning-attracting ferns that have stopped those attacks. I’m betting this place was cultivated to survive magic and defend itself against weapons, which means everything is a threat. Tell me you’ve figured out a way for us to do more than hold the trolls and plants off.”
“There are polished chains hidden in the branches, so maybe we should follow one of those,” Delvin suggests as Nyx tosses the small fireball above her head and ducks. He hits the spell with his shield to increase its potency, the impact sending it soaring into the swarm of trolls. “I see patches of sky through the leaves, so we must be near the top of the tree. Probably in the lower part of the canopy. No way to be sure since this isn’t a normal tree. Why would anybody put a garden like this in a champion’s temple?”
With a stomp of her foot, Nyx sends a wave of grinding force through the thorny vines that are barring their way. “At least I have an answer to that question. The Barghest did all of this before descending to Rhundar. She . . . They . . . It enhanced the trolls and butchered them to leave as a trap along with the reviving spell. One of her pieces must be a caster as well as a psychic, which explains some of her other abilities. Another part might have specialized in twisting nature and turned this garden into a weapon. Remember that the Barghest is more than one being, so we need to consider that each piece has a different specialty.”
“But the thing is frozen in Rhundar,” the warrior states, taking the channeler by the wrist and racing along the opened path before it closes. A troll explodes from the ground in front of them, but Delvin scoops Nyx onto his shoulder and leaps over the rising body. “Save your magic until you can do more than whittle away their numbers. Is it possible that the Barghest is still awake and digesting Sari? If that’s the case then we need to break Fizzle’s spell.”
“This magic might be separate from it. Then again, there could be a connection.”
“I ever tell you that you’re cute when you get an idea?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Well, you are. What’s the plan?”
Before the channeler can answer, four trolls rush out of the trees on their left and rolling bushes come at them from the right. With Nyx still on his shoulder, Delvin slashes at the incoming plants that explode at the touch of his weapon. Fiery needles pepper his legs, but he uses his powers to expel the burrowing pieces. It is exhausting for him to continue fighting and healing, the situation getting worse when the trolls tear through Nyx’s hastily erected barrier. A clawed hand narrowly misses his unarmored back and the half-elf’s face, the monster’s limb impaled by a spear of wood that erupts from the floor.
Instead of dropping to the ground, the channeler spins around to sit on her companion’s shoulders and focuses her attacks on the two-headed beasts. Trying to remember Timoran’s lessons about shifting her weight, Nyx attempts to move with Delvin and not be a hindrance to his actions. It is an odd sight since her punches are too far away to make physical contact since the trolls are being kept at sword’s length thanks to the warrior. The real attacks come from the compact spells that she unleashes as hazy orbs, which explode on contact. The lotuses put out the flames and her lightning spells are swiftly absorbed, but the cunning trolls become more cautious about the strange attacks. They become so focused on Nyx that they are left open to Delvin, who has finished off the rolling bushes. With his weapon shining, precise stabs to the heart causes the monsters’ chests to implode and they collapse until they can regenerate. Unhurt and tired, the champions groan as they see the army of trolls closing in from all sides.
Sliding down Delvin’s body, Nyx wraps her legs around his waist and launches both of them into the air with a blast of wind. The half-elf catches one of the chains and grunts as her arms ache from the strain of supporting so much weight. She struggles to hold onto the warrior while he sheathes his blade and stretches to grab the metal links. With the roaring trolls unable to jump high enough to catch them, the champions shimmy along the chain. Various plants are hurled in their direction, but Nyx repeatedly creates a flaming shield that disappears before the lotuses can react. Tapping Delvin’s head with her foot, the half-elf points to the distance where they see a cage dangling over a bubbling pond.
A pair of trees lean toward the chain and swing at the champions with their leaf-covered branches. Not wanting to stop, the pair push ahead and take the blows that leave scratches on any exposed skin. Nyx shudders at the sensation of an itching rash on her exposed back, the half-elf regretting wearing the halter top instead of a full shirt. Ignoring the urge to scratch, she flips herself on top of the chain and transforms her hands and feet into those of a monkey. Sprouting a long tail to help with her balance, Nyx leaps and dances around to distract the trees. She keeps them away from Delvin by making every obscene gesture she can imagine and flicking tiny embers at the temperamental plants. Leaping and ducking, she avoids getting hit while keeping an eye on the swelling mob of trolls below. The half-elf sees that they are starting to create living pyramids to reach the chain, one of the monsters already dangerously close. Unleashing a loud screech, Nyx hooks her tail in a link and swings down to grab the nearest creature’s spikey hair and flip it off the top of its brethren.
“Stop playing around!” Delvin shouts from the door of the cage. He stands aside as his companion scampers along the chain and dives into the enclosure. “You realize this makes us easy to hit, right? I hope your plan is good
enough to get us out of this new mess. Nice tail by the way.”
“You’re really enjoying being able to flirt without getting hit,” Nyx states as she changes back to her normal self. Reaching between the bars, she heats the chain until it is bright red and locks the enchantment in place. “That will slow them down, but I’m going to need you to keep them back if they get close. My plan is to disrupt the magical connection between the Barghest’s parts, which should remove its influence over the temple. This will also require that I break Fizzle’s spell and free everyone in Rhundar. I need to focus and stretch my aura very far to pull this off, so I’m trusting you to keep those trolls away.”
“What happens after all that?” asks the swordsman, drawing his weapon and watching the lumbering monsters. He frowns at the sight of several larger plants uprooting themselves and crawling towards the acidic pond. “Do you think all of these things will drop dead and we can continue without a problem?”
“Honestly, I think the plants will stop, but the trolls will keep going. The upside here is that they won’t be enhanced and I can fight them with my full strength,” Nyx explains while sitting in the middle of the cage. Her aching knees pop as she folds her legs under her body and takes a calming breath. “Unfortunately, we’ll be cornered in here and have to battle our way out. My hope is that I can use my connection to Fizzle to relay a message that he needs to get to the temple quickly. Out of all of our friends, he’s the fastest and we could really use his magic. Sorry, but I’m depending a lot on luck here. Also hoping that I don’t pass out and become useless. Here we go.”
Exhaling through her nose, Nyx plunges into a trance and gently extends her aura toward Rhundar. The world around her is bathed in colorful lights as she sees her surroundings as nothing more than magical energy. She battles against waves of nausea and a desire to move recklessly, the faint sounds of Delvin and the trolls reaching her ears. A group of numbing cuts appear on her arm, but she remains calm and pushes beyond the edge of the plateau. Riding the ugly waterfall down to the polluted river, Nyx easily picks out the Barghest with its patchwork of drab colors. Curled in its gut are two balls of blue that she knows are Sari and Phelan, their energy strong enough to let the half-elf know that she is not too late to save them.
Fizzle’s stasis spell causes Nyx to move in slow motion, the drite’s power trying to engulf the straining channeler. With the sound of Delvin shouting in the distance, she causes the thick fog to fade away and sends her call for help along its fraying ends. As the powerful enchantment collapses, she dives at the Barghest and yanks at the aura strings that keep it together. Feeling the creature stir on the physical plane, Nyx frantically sprouts multiple limbs to tear at the patches until the twenty pieces separate. Eyes appear on the figure standing before her, the pupils dilated as a quivering hand reaches for the champion. A pulse of pain courses through her aura and she backs away to avoid a direct touch, which could lead to her being absorbed. Flames ripple along the half-elf’s arms, but she is unable to do anything more than the threatening display. Too weak to fight the Barghest from a distance, Nyx lets her magic hurtle back into her body where she jolts awake with a scream.
“What’s going on!?” she yells when she finds herself pressed against the bars. All she sees around them is sky and clouds, the scenery streaking past the cage. Her body feels like it is being crushed, which makes her think they are spinning. “I divided the Barghest and Fizzle should be coming. Did it work?”
“A little too well,” Delvin replies, his body stuck against the opposite side of the cage. From his view, he sees the ground come hurtling toward them and fall away as they swing back for the sky. “The plants are asleep and the water is cleaning itself, so the garden is salvageable. I think the trolls are confused, but they’re going to be a threat when we get out of this. I don’t know exactly what happened, but the chains launched us out of the tree. Now we’re spinning along with a few empty cages. I’ve no idea how to stop this since it keeps changing directions.” The warrior is surprised to hear the young woman snoring, her hands having fused with the bars to help her sleep. “You’re really something, Nyx.”
18
Timoran is the first to wake up and take a deep breath, the barbarian feeling like he nearly suffocated. Clearing his head, he watches as Fizzle flies high above Rhundar and soars toward the waterfall, the drite disappearing among the clouds. A small groan gives him enough warning to turn and catch Dariana, who remembers being psychically battered before the stasis spell consumed everyone. Blood drips from her nose and ears since her mind believes the attacks happened only a seconds ago. Timoran carries her away from the silhouettes that remain in the last patch of shimmering fog, the mysterious figures swaying on unsteady legs. When he tries to hide her behind a stack of crates, the telepath struggles to her feet and gently moves the barbarian away. He smiles at the way she casually wipes the blood off her face and cracks her neck in a way that reminds him of the woman of his tribe.
“I felt Nyx’s presence as she broke the spell and did something to the Barghest,” Dariana says while a strong breeze drifts through the city. The outer areas of the fog clear to reveal the limp and pale Feykin, only a few showing signs of life. “Fizzle was called to help at the temple, but I didn’t hear the rest of the message. Very cunning use of her magic, which makes me want to honor her efforts by continuing to fight. Where is the Barghest?”
Timoran shrugs and points his axe toward the last section of Fizzle’s spell, which is crackling with crimson lightning. “That is where it should be, but I do not see it. All I see are twenty figures that are about to collapse. Two of them might be Sari and Phelan. Perhaps the creature has slipped away or Nyx destroyed it completely.”
“In a manner of speaking,” the telepath states with a half-hearted smirk. Turning her ring around her finger, she mentally pokes at the cloud and hears angry thoughts burst along the faint connection. “Zohara and her siblings are really angry. I don’t know how she did it, but Nyx found a way into the Barghest’s aura. The creature was composed of multiple minds and bodies, so she split them apart. Now we have twenty individual psychics who are not even close to my level of power. At least if I was fully rested. I’m sorry, but I might not be able to handle them alone.”
“That is why I am here,” the barbarian says, hefting his weapon onto his shoulder. Easing his friend back, he stands between her and the cloud as it starts to dissolve. “I will battle their bodies while you attack their minds. Do not worry about me and hold back. My rage will defeat their manipulations and I doubt they have the strength to deliver a fatal blow.”
“Barbarians are so proud and strange.”
“Never go into battle with doubt and fear.”
“I’ll do my best to follow your lead.”
Before the fog can clear, several of the Feykin rise off the ground and surround the champions. Men, women, and children float like marionettes and drift along the streets to make a barrier around their weakened masters. A dull drone rolls from their cracked lips and their limbs twitch whenever they are caressed by the warm breeze. Timoran sees that only a handful of the hostages are breathing, but he is still resistant toward attacking. Noticing how gaunt and frail they are, he fears that even a blow with the side of his weapon will be enough to kill. It is worse for Dariana, who cannot sense a single thought from the Feykin. She shivers at the realization that their minds have been scraped clean and the few movements of life are nothing more than muscle memory. Even with the knowledge that they are empty shells being used as shields, the telepath refuses to suggest that they bash through the husks. For all she knows, these people can be revived once they are free of their master and she would hate herself if she cost them that chance.
The last of Fizzle’s spell is released once the Barghest have created their barrier and are ready to face their enemies. Zohara stands in the middle of her siblings, her form having returned to that of a dark-skinned Feykin. With different colorations, her brothers and sister
s only have their twisted wings to show they are related. Flapping uselessly on their backs, the gossamer projections absorb the dwindling sunlight and do their best to shine. The Barghest gather behind their scowling, older sister and open circular mouths that are rimmed with gnarled teeth. Gray ooze drips from their lancing tongues, but the display is ended when Zohara slaps her nearest sibling across the face.
“Do not antagonize them,” she says before returning her attention to the champions. She rubs her belly and purrs, the taste of Sari and Phelan dancing on her tongue. “We are above such pathetic acts. After all, they will never hurt the Feykin or any of us. No telling which of the Barghest holds the tasty survivors. It could be any one or two of us and Dariana does not have the power to find out. We shall negotiate.”
“Or I will remove all your heads and tear my friends from your guts,” Timoran replies as he steps forward. The barbarian’s shoulder bumps one of the Feykin and the man unleashes a horrid scream while his body crumples into a fleshy ball. “You must realize that your games cannot last forever. Eventually, our friends will return and destroy you. That is if we do not find a way to finish you off first. So our negotiation is simple. You will release the Feykin, including Sari and Phelan. Then you will be put on trial and executed for your crimes. There is no other way that this will end.”
“Not much of a deal since you already concluded that we will be killed,” Zohara states, her eyes shifting to Dariana. A curious poke to the other telepath’s mind causes her stomach to turn, a warning that she should avoid a psychic battle. “I have a counteroffer that involves us leaving alive and well. You get the plateau, Rhundar, and the delicious champion that is in one of our stomachs. We will leave with the Feykin as our toys and find a new home. There is a gloriously corrupted orchard that we would enjoy. Perhaps the ruined prison or the graveyard that was once Caurea. I believe my point is that we are not really attached to a specific place. All we want are puppets to keep us occupied.”
Charms of the Feykin Page 35
