by Ren Ryder
I tried on an innocent smile, hoping Bell wouldn’t see straight through me.
Bell perked up, glowing silver with righteous anger. Deceptively calm, she asked, “You made a deal without telling me?”
I clenched my teeth together to keep the smile from falling off my face. “I, uh— yeah?”
“Did you give up anything important?”
“I… don’t think so?”
A long silence stretched between the two of us. Awkward, I shifted my weight and cleared my throat a few more times. My lungs burned and my ribs ached. I tried to occupy my hands with searching the dark imp’s pockets, but I could feel Bell’s gaze burning into the back of my head.
Bell’s anger radiated off her like a furnace. “Next time, you will consult me before making any deals. Is that clear?”
“I w-will,” I stammered out a response, cleared my throat again. “We’re clear. Crystal clear."
Bell sniffed and whipped her hair around. “Good. As long as we’re clear, then it’s settled.”
Steadying myself with my fingers dipped into the soil, I groaned and raised myself onto my feet. I stood hunched over, breathing heavy and wobbling unsteadily as the sudden strain of standing hit me.
“You good?” Bell tilted her head and looked askance at me. “It’s going to be a long road ahead if this is how you look after taking down one champion.”
I groaned. “I know. I’m good. I’m…” I trailed off as I assessed the damage.
I could see through the palm of my right hand. Focusing on the golfball-sized hole made me queasy. Seeing how thin threads of new flesh were spanning the gap while the outer ring of skin was wriggling back together was even more disturbing. I gagged as I watched the same process happen to the meaty part of my shoulder.
With the merrow’s healing factor working to benefit me instead of acting as a looming curse, I found my feelings on them turning to grudging appreciation.
Trying not to dwell too much on the alienation I felt towards my body, I said, “I think I’m going to be fine. Just fine.”
With my hands against my knees I pushed myself up to my full height. When I didn’t immediately feel faint and topple over, I sighed in relief. I raised an arm above my head and leaned to one side, cracking my back like a bag of popcorn.
“Ew. Gross.”
I took one last look at the fallen champion at my feet. His breathing was more labored and it looked like any breath might be his last. A small part of me thought to finish him off, but I didn’t have the stomach to kill a defenseless person. Either he would survive or he wouldn’t, but if I had to fight him again I’d eat my own boot.
“I’m going to find my staff. I dropped it during the first exchange. It should be somewhere around here…” I oriented myself and turned towards the general area I expected to find it.
“Ooh, I know, I know!” Bell said.
Bell rushed off in a streak of silver, and I forced my aching body to run in pursuit of her. She wove between a couple trees and took a ninety-degree turn from the area I was planning to check. Another hundred paces and Bell circled my ashwood staff, half-hidden in a bed of ruddy leaves.
“Thanks. Rummaging around in the Wildwood like a loon looking for this probably isn’t the best use of our time.”
Bell was beaming. “Happy to help!” she said, licking her lips.
I trotted up to her and bent over to pick it up when a violent exchange of blows, explosions, loud thwacks and a great crash shook the forest, making leaves fall from the trees nearby. The Wildwood was turning into a battleground.
Bell frowned and stomped her feet midair, looking like she’d lost out on something earned.
I heard a battle cry I recognized straight-away. Fin Macool had joined the final trial after all, and whoever he was fighting was putting him under enough pressure to make his presence known to the forest at large.
Chapter Twenty
Explosion after explosion piled atop one another like rolling thunder shook the Wildwood. Leaves and bark cascaded to the ground like snowfall.
My heart beat a harsh staccato against my ribs.
I vacillated between two extremes: fight or flight.
My instinct for self-preservation urged me to ignore the sounds of pitched battle, find a hiding spot and wait out the remainder of the trial. Fin was a big boy and he could handle himself. It was all too easy to imagine him steamrolling over any opposition. My presence was more than unnecessary, it would be a hindrance to the both of us.
On the other hand, I sensed a giant confluence of energies that felt like an all-out battle. From the get-go I’d expected Oberon to send more than a few champions my way, but instead I’d been accosted by a single, albeit accomplished, dark imp. If I was an elitist faery king weighing the pros and cons, I might consider a human taking home the crown of the Seven Year King even more detestable than the illegitimate child of his wife.
Bell must’ve seen the gears turning in my head, because she looked none-too-pleased with me.
“Don’t even think about it, Kal,” Bell stuck an accusatory finger in my face. “We don’t owe that human anything. Fin is his own person, he will rise or fall by his own merit.”
I scratched hard at the side of my skull. “I know that. But what if he dies because I stood by and did nothing? All he wants is to survive and go home to his family.”
Bell was seriously on one. “Think about it! Only one of you can take home the crown. You’re enemies! Even assuming he needs the help, which is a stretch of the imagination considering what a monster he is, the absolute best you can expect in return for your help is to be stabbed in the back. Doesn’t this all sound too familiar to you? Doesn’t it?!”
I swallowed hard over bitter regret and indecision. “I know what it looks like, Bell.”
Bell put her hands to her face in a look of complete exasperation. “And you’re going anyways?”
I grinned. “It’s like you read my mind — you know me too well.”
Bell rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Before we do this, I just want you to know…” Bell trailed off, playful menace dancing along her lips.
“What?” I asked, a little curious about what she had to say despite myself.
“You’re an idiot. A big, huge, great idiot!” Bell said, tears sparkling in her golden eyes.
Almost against my will, a rather self-depreciating smirk stretched one side of my face upwards. “I know. I know, Bell. I know.”
My eyes glossed over as I paid close attention to my preternatural senses, expanding my mind further than I thought possible. I felt for the source of the embattled energies, the raging confluence of power that Fin must be at the center of. Orienting myself on it, I swiveled in place and held out the end of my staff towards the feeling sparking against my skin like electric fire.
I refocused and found myself pointing almost straight-on towards the center of the barrier.
Maybe fifteen degrees to the right, I corrected myself as I gauged the sky and tracked my staff’s position.
“Here goes nothing.”
Shuddering with adrenaline, I dipped into my source and towed out a heavy outpouring of mana, letting it rage through my veins. As the energy started to stutter and become inert, I cycled it through my mana channels and let off a steam of power that was captured by my aura before it dispersed into the air.
I held out my staff on a horizontal plane from my body, then focused a stream of vital energy into the blackened ashwood. The gnarled wood started to glow with inner light as it absorbed the steady influx of mana.
My sylph companion surrounded herself in a silver stream of mana, matching my readiness. “Are we doing this or what?” Bell challenged.
The lion’s den beckoned.
A great crash of timber splintering followed by a shockwave of pure force brought on a sense of imminent danger. The ground trembled beneath my feet from a localized earthquake. The sands of time were running out for Fin, I could feel it in my bones.
/> I tossed aside any notion of stealth and decided to take a run straight at the violent commotion.
I dipped my head into a firm nod. “We’re doing this.”
I took a runner’s stance, arching my back foot into the air so just my toes touched the ground. I tensed the muscles of my body into rigid readiness, took my heading and propelled myself forward.
The Wildwood blurred around me and the wind shattered with the speed of my travel. As I fought to keep my attention on my surroundings to avoid collisions, my brain went into overdrive to slow down my perspective, allowing me to process more things at once. I warped through the intervening distance separating me from the ensuing battle in the blink of an eye.
I stepped onto the battlefield, my eyes darting every which way to absorb the scene in an instant. The forest had been forcibly cleared of trees by the battle. Evidence of a long, hard-fought fight was everywhere to be seen.
Six champions working together had Fin Macool surrounded. They were spread out with their respective weapons pointed inwards at the human. Clear as the Dayside was bright, this was a coordinated attack meant to wipe the sole human champion off the chess board.
Fin was hard pressed by the collection of mages and warriors, flame-red hair matted with blood, his body covered in blood and gore— all of it his own.
A towering ogre with a massive broadsword and clad in heavy silver plate armor was trading blows in close-quarters with the massive bear of a man. One dwarf wielding a massive hammer had him pinned from behind, his weapon arcing downwards in an overhand blow. Floating in a globe of water midair, an undine commanded a collection of ice spears to batter Fin with a relentless barrage.
A black-clad banshee was screaming a sense-destroying cacophony of focused sound into Fin’s head. A little leprechaun was slicing and dicing between the human’s legs, cutting the man to ribbons. An elfin mage wielding an oak wand prepared a volley of potent magic, pointing straight at Fin’s vitals.
Fin’s head seemed to move in slow-motion towards me to assess the incoming danger.
Making eye contact with the human champion, I started to swing my staff in an arcing blow as I streaked across the battleground, heading straight into close quarters. Using my staff like a javelin, I speared the dwarf through the chest. The blow landed with so much force that my ashwood staff burst clear out the back of the attacking dwarf’s chest, sending blood and sinew flying.
On my heels, Bell swept under Fin’s giant mass and stuck her palm over the wide-eyed leprechaun’s mouth. She forced a massive influx of wind mana into his body, causing his eyes to burst out of their sockets and his lungs to burst with an audible pop.
Our attack came so fast and unexpected that the champions had yet to react to our presence. I had to make the most of our surprise attack before our opponents rallied to take us all down.
Arms stuffed up to the wrists in the dwarf’s ribs, I let go of my staff and spun to confront the next most imminent threat: the elfin mage. Whatever power he was readying to strike with made my skin break out in pins-and-needles. I wouldn’t let it come to fruition.
I pivoted and pushed off my back leg into the air, putting every bit of my enhanced strength into the movement. Concentrating mana into my fist, I pulled my arm back for a wild haymaker and struck the mage right on his pretty nose.
Blood gushed out the wound as the elfin mage was taken clear off his feet by the blow. The magic he prepared imploded in his hands, blowing his wand and most of his dominant hand to smithereens. He crashed into a tree trunk and fell unconscious to the ground.
Winded beyond belief, my heart wrenched in my chest and I fell to my knees. I wheezed, trying to drag air into my lungs, but my muscles were paralyzed from overuse. To add insult to injury, my cloak started strangling me, again.
Damn cloak.
Being trapped in an unresponsive body at such a crucial juncture infuriated me.
Across the clearing, I watched as Fin’s natural stone-jewelry connected with the ogre’s great broadsword, sending a shockwave of force out from the impact and rattling my bones. Free of encumbrances, Fin fought the ogre to a standstill, trading blow for blow. Crimson energy flowed out of his skin like dancing flames.
Body reinforcement magic?
Seeing my weakness, the undine switched tactics and cast a barrage of ice spears at me. Three icy daggers punched into my chest and one speared my forearm. I fell supine onto my back, gasping for air as my body betrayed me. Pain felt faraway as I struggled to remain conscious.
Bell dashed over to my side and called up a wind-wall to protect me from the undine’s followup attack. “Kal? Get it together! What’s wrong with you?”
“Can’t—” I choked, unable to get out more than that one word.
Bell hovered over me, her face a mask of concern. “What can’t— you can’t breathe? Hold on a sec!” Bell shot a disc of wind at the undine, putting him on the defensive as he was forced to call up a protective barrier of water to counter the attack.
“Breathe, breathe damnit!” Bell cried.
Bell put a hand to my chest and breathed a silvery mass of her own mana into the sigil on my chest. A silver glow flooded into me, filling my lungs with sweet, sweet air, but my body kept up its rebellion. Coughing, I writhed on my back as my muscles contracted, ripping up my insides.
Warm relief swept through me, starting at my heart and working its way outwards. As it reached my arms I found my convulsions stilling and I could even twitch my toes with some effort. I could feel my ripped and torn muscles repairing themselves. The muscles of my legs still felt locked up, but it was only a matter of time before I could move under my own power again.
My faculties returning, I beat at my cloak with my fists in sheer frustration. It bucked beneath me and its stranglehold around my neck loosened. With a shaky indrawn breath I drew air into my lungs, this time without Bell’s help.
With some difficulty I pulled myself up into a sitting position to better survey the battleground. Bell was drenched in sweat, but keeping up a high defensive wall that the undine had yet to breach.
Fin and the ogre had seemed a match for raw power, but I noticed the human champion was being beaten backwards across the war-torn clearing. His fiery aura was dimming, and his many wounds were beginning to take a toll on him. Although he still parried the massive blows from the ogre’s broadsword, his movements lacked the ferocity I’d come to expect from him.
Before I committed myself, I gazed around the battleground to try to get a full view of what we were up against. I wanted to be sure I applied my strength in the most effective spot.
The elfin mage was down for the count, staring at his limb, which had been amputated up to the elbow from his wand’s backfire. The dwarf had fallen dead where he stood, my staff skewering him. The leprechaun had met the same fate, his innards imploded by Bell’s wind working and his eyeballs hanging outside his body, still attached to their sinewy tendons.
The banshee. Where is he?
Seeing which way the wind was blowing, the banshee was skirting one side of the clearing, not engaging yet but looking for an opening to exploit. He looked ready to flee at a moment’s notice. However Oberon had convinced these champions to dog-pile Fin, they hadn’t expected this cruel reversal of fate. No doubt the banshee was more intent on keeping himself in the running over fighting a losing battle.
I didn’t blame him.
But he had to go.
I wasn’t going to let the banshee escape to fight another day. I would be doing myself a great disservice if I let the opportunity slip by me now. With the banshee’s focus clearly on Fin and the ogre, I had a small window to leverage my position for my advantage.
I had one shot at this.
Drawing hard from my source, I cycled a new influx of mana into the sigil on my chest. A silver glow radiated out from me, flooding my limbs with a light airiness. Keeping low, I kept my profile small and snuck over to the dwarf’s body. Swallowing my disgust, I wrapped my finge
rs around the base of the staff and tugged it free from the champion’s unresponsive form.
I charged the staff with wind mana and bolted around the clearing to strike at the banshee from behind. The banshee turned in the instant before my attack landed, giving me an open-mouthed stare that made me hesitate for a precious moment.
This banshee wasn’t cut out for close-quarters combat. I could tell he was a complete novice by the way he moved. If he had another weapon besides his voice, or if he had used the trial’s conditions to his advantage, things might have turned out different for him.
“Wait, please!” the banshee screamed, tearing at my concentration with a powerful mental attack.
My bangle heated against my left forearm, effectively disarming him.
I shifted my feet and reoriented myself on the black-clad banshee as he stumbled back out of range, sending out a wide-sweeping wind scythe that cut into the champion’s waist. A pure, unadulterated cry ripped out of the banshee’s throat, hitting the whole clearing with an indiscriminate mental attack. I put my hands to my head and fell to my knees as the psychic assault tore at my mind.
The banshee’s death-knell stopped all fighting in its tracks.
I recovered first to find my attack had landed a heavy blow on the darkly attired champion. He was holding his guts in his hands, and I could see the bones of his hips jutting out of ruined flesh.
Fin was wobbling back and forth, still on his feet but looking ready to drop at any moment. The ogre was stumbling this way and that, holding his massive head in his hands. Bell was screaming, the tinkling high-pitched sound pierced my ears from across the clearing. The undine had lost control of his working and ice spears tumbled out of the air, sloshing into an icy puddle on the ground.
Instead of taking my fight to the ogre while he was preoccupied, I zeroed in on the undine and swept my staff in an arcing motion to send a wind scythe his way. The undine formed a shaky water-wall that my scythe shredded to pieces. My attack cut a shallow wound across the undine’s lower body, putting it further off-balance as I streaked across the clearing towards it.
