Brace For the Wolves

by Nathan Thompson

  "Breena," I gasped. "Stay with me, okay?"

  The tiny pink woman just let out a pained squeak. I could feel her pain through our link. She felt cold, everything ached, and it was hard for her to hold herself together. I didn't know how to interpret that last sensation but I began pouring every healing spell I had into her with my Water and Air magic. The Water magic did very little, despite the fact that it was the Ideal best known for healing. The Air magic seemed like it helped a little bit, because a tiny bit of her old color came back into her after my second or third casting.

  More impressions came from her. I don't know if it was through our mind-link, or through our bond as Challenger and familiar, or just because she was a fairy and there was some special magic she hadn't told me about yet. But the next moment I heard thoughts come from her as I cradled the tiny woman in my arms.

  Am I dying...no...not yet...got careless...would I have come back this time, if I had... Wes... who will take care of Wes if I go...

  That did it.

  I began to tremble.

  "Wes," Weylin's voice called next to me. "I got her. It's okay. I'll keep her stable."

  "You're supposed to be handling the summoned soldiers," I said numbly, looking at him in a near daze.

  "I brought down most of them already," the elf said gently. "Karim's got the last of them. But Virtus and Eadric need your help."

  He pointed with a toss of his head, to where Martus was beating back our dwarf and skeletal soldier. My eyes locked onto the creature that had nearly killed a piece of Stell and one of my first friends on this world.

  "You sure you can help her?" I asked as my peripheral vision seemed to blur.

  "Yes, Wes. Song magic is good for healing. I'll keep her stable, I promise."

  "Good," I said. I tore my gaze from my target and back to my limp friend, passing her into Weylin's arms as gently and carefully as I could. "I'm going to be right back, Breena. I promise."

  Then I picked up my weapon and shield and stepped forward.

  My teeth began itching again.

  My signature enhancement spells all activated at once. And once again, they began to overlap. A note from my mind-screen said my Battleform was finally reactivating.

  The undead captain, our last real foe, was still battling Virtus and Eadric, and still winning. His shroud and spectral muscles were becoming more and more translucent, but the injuries of my companions were beginning to add up as well, with cuts on Eadric and cracks appearing on Virtus' bones. I could tell that their vital guards were struggling to keep the damage negligible.

  My warriors, a growling corner of my mind snarled possessively. My ghosts. My people. My world.

  My knees flexed. Rock and wind and steam and spark coiled inside of them.

  They unflexed, and I blasted forward.

  The tens-of-thousands-of-years-old warrior noticed me coming in the last microsecond. He jerked his helmet back, and the tip of my spatha scraped off of his helmet's face-cage. Rock and wind and steam and sparks blasted off a piece of his shroud, and the giant soldier swore in surprise.

  "I GAVE YOU!" I shouted at his face, bashing my shield against his own barrier and pushing him back. Once more Ideals and elements pitted at his shroud and metal protection. "I GAVE YOU AN OUT!"

  My sword whistled down in an overhead slash, colliding with his own weapon. Once more the elements around my weapon screamed, and I heard air whistle out of his skull in surprise as he tried to push me back and failed.

  "I GAVE YOU AN OUT!" I shouted again. "AND YOU DID NOT TAKE IT!"

  I tore my sword off of his and slashed down at his legs. He dodged the first swing, and wasn't able to avoid the second. Again the storm of elements scoured away at his shroud and spectral muscles.

  "INSTEAD! YOU TRIED! TO TAKE! FROM ME!"

  Martus snarled and whipped his spatha at my face. I caught the blow on my shield, pressing and turning it so that I could twist him off balance. My sword arm punched at the lorica on his arm and I heard something sizzle. A wisp of smoke came out from under the armor.

  He tried to kick me, and I caught his knee with my elbow, heaved him off of the ground and slammed the giant warrior down on his back.

  "STOP TRYING TO TAKE!" I roared, baring my irritated incisors. "STOP TRYING TO TAKE FROM ME!"

  He kicked, twisted, and stabbed at me from the floor. This time the force of his attacks got through my script wards, penetrated my armor, but were stopped by my Ideal-enhanced skin.

  "YOU CANNOT HAVE MY PLANET!" I tossed my shield away and slammed my sword into his knee with both hands, this time penetrating his shroud and armor. I heard cracks from his tibia and femur. He slashed at me again, scraping past all my protections this time and nicking my vital guard.

  I didn't care. My teeth itched and this stupid fucking idiot was still trying to take my people and my planet and my friends from me. I pulled my spatha back and jammed it into his shoulder. The magic tore at his joint, making his shield-arm rattle around uselessly. Souls practically steamed off him now.

  Martus tried to get up, but I kicked him in the chest and knocked him back onto the floor. I jammed my spatha deeper into his shoulder, let go and summoned my mace. When he tried to get back up again I straddled him and bashed at his helmet.

  "YOU CANNOT HAVE MY PEOPLE!"

  He punched at me with his weapon pommel, because I was too close for a real swing. I caught the blow with my free hand and kept bashing his armored head with my mace.

  "AND YOU CANNOT! HAVE! MY FRIEND!" I swung again, and this time the helm crumpled, and the last of the moaning smoke billowed off of him.

  "NOT ANY OF THEM!"

  The flesh-less hand I was holding went limp. I saw the jaw under his crumpled helm move as he tried to speak, but I didn't care. I let go of his hand and swung my mace back down at an angle, with both hands, like I was playing a grisly and sociopathic version of golf.

  Then what was hopefully the last dislodged skull of the day began hurtling through the air.

  I grabbed the neck to pull it forward, raised my mace to swing again, and then I realized I didn’t have a head in front of me to hit anymore.

  As I processed that thought everything else slowed down, and my lungs finally began to catch up with my heart. Deep breaths sucked in and out of my chest while my eyes tried to look around the room for something important.

  Breena, my brain said. Check on Breena.

  But don’t forget everyone else, it reminded itself.

  “Everyone alright?” I asked out loud, turning to look around. Shocked nods greeted me, and my next concern spilled right out of my mouth.

  “Breena. Where is Breena? Is Breena okay?”

  I stood up awkwardly, tripping as I tried to step over Martus’ corpse. Weylin, I reminded myself. Weylin has Breena.

  “Wey—”

  I trailed off as I saw Breena fly up and out of his hands.

  “I'm okay, Wes,” she insisted, making a tired smile. “It was just some soul magic. It takes a little while to get over. I shouldn't have let myself get hit by it.”

  “But you’re sure you're okay?” I insisted.

  “Yes, Wes,” Breena repeated, flying slowly over to me. “See?” She did a little spin in her pink dress. She still looked like a tiny, healthy woman with gossamer wings, a slim Barbie figure, and a pink-colored, spiky-pixie haircut. Then I realized that a spiritual attack probably wouldn't leave any marks anyway, and that my staring was probably getting creepy.

  “Good. Okay. Glad you're alright,” I said looking away, and feeling a little guilty. Eadric got hit by the same spell and I didn't obsess over him. “Everyone else good? Did we miss any injuries? Virtus? Karim? Eadric?”

  “Everyone's fine,” Karim confirmed. “Virtus is still a little banged up, but the rest of us were able to heal while you were… venting.”

  “Oh,” I said, continuing to calm down. “Okay. Great. Virtus, what do you need to finish healing?”

  “Mana and time,” the
ancient skeleton sighed, walking over to where Martus’ skull was. “I'll definitely need time,” he added quietly, then he turned his head to address his former captain.

  “I didn't want this, Martus,” the ageless warrior said softly.

  “I… know,” Martus replied. “Didn’t… want it… either.”

  The glow in the skull’s eyes had dimmed to a spark that was starting to flicker. “You were… right. Always… knew, but… in too deep… too scared to... walk away.”

  “Why?” the intact skeleton demanded. “We were all in too deep. We all lost our way. But it wasn't too late for me. Why didn't you get out? Why didn't you make the same choice I did?”

  The skull lying on the floor sighed. Its eyes flared for a moment, and I got the feeling it was gathering its strength to speak more complete thoughts.

  “You… fell a few feet,” Martus croaked. “The rest of us descended much further. And it kept costing us more and more. Made us need more. Made us hungrier. Kept us desperate. We thought—” the captain paused, and I could hear the strain in his voice as he began to speak again—“we thought that if we became like monsters, then we could survive, since they always hunt and forage for mana. We should have known that they did so because they were always hungry.” The skull sighed. “No matter how much they got. It should have been the safest reward a contract could provide. But it was the worst. Virtus…” The skull’s voice grew weak. “Be… better. Learn… from us.”

  “I already have,” the ancient hoplite said in a sad, quiet voice.

  “Good…” Martus’ eyes dimmed completely, and he gave one last sigh. Then the broken skull was quiet.

  The silence hung heavy around Virtus, and I felt I shouldn't intrude, or at least not yet.

  A moment later, though, he turned and looked at us.

  "Their pendants should still be inside of their ribcages," he said briskly, and in a tone that suggested he didn't want to talk about what had just happened. Not yet. "The captain kept the key to both the armory and the curse-stone. The curse-stone is the artifact keeping the remaining Avalonians from passing on—or coming back. It was also our primary source of mana, combined with the souls it assigned to us."

  "Assigned to?" I asked, noting that one word. "Does that mean the rest of the Avalonians are bound elsewhere?"

  "Exactly. We didn't have access to those and I don't think they'll be released when we destroy the local curse-stone. But all of those down here should be free."

  "Alright," I said. "Let's go see what we can find. You didn't have a granary or anything, did you?"

  "No," Virtus shook his head. "Nobody down here required actual food."

  That meant I still had to worry about the local rations. I'd also have to see if our recent Rises and acquiring of Virtus would be enough to break the blockade outside. Or maybe there would be something we could use in the armory.

  But enough stress-gathering. We collected the pendants and all the usable weapons and armor that remained on the wardens and their troops. My chain mail was tearing in a few places now and I audibly wondered about the benefit of wearing something that wasn't doing a very good job of stopping blows so far. Eadric and Virtus just both looked at me like I was an idiot, but Eadric said he'd see if he could fix it if he ever got the right tools. They also encouraged me to try and find more padding for under my armor when we finally got a chance.

  Fortunately, we found some in the armory along the way. It was magically sealed in a chest to prevent the ravages of time—extra leather and wool gear to repair straps or replace padding. Despite the difference in size between us and the former occupants of this place, we all found pieces to fit and to reinforce our own gear.

  I still didn't know how useful mail, bronze and light leather would be in protecting us from Risen, Descended or otherwise supernaturally strong beings, but that was a discussion that could wait until after we were finished wrecking the place.

  Beyond that, we found more weapons, more shields, more bronze and mail armor that was mostly too big for us. Again, Eadric said he could help resize most of it if he had the proper facilities and tools, and again it didn't matter because the refugees weren't exactly hoplite or legionnaire material yet. But with my Strength once again increased I was able to put a good bit of it into my magic, muscle-matching storage handle. I had also passed Tovius' spatha to Weylin so that he had a long blade to fight with, and took up Martus' spatha to use instead.

  I had asked Virtus why a company that had been around for as long as his had used so much Bronze Age tech. Apparently that had been the easiest to equip the whole company with back at that initial time period, as most worlds hadn't discovered iron yet. My world was an exception. Apparently way back before my planet's recorded history, the superhumans that apparently were my ancestors had made all kinds of technological marvels, the likes of which had never been repeated. I was also reminded of a conversation that I had with Stell a while ago, about how even without magic, and even with taking the different passages of time into account, the speed of advancement for technology on my planet was unheard of in most of the Expanse.

  At any rate, I hoped to soon get armor that worked and at least iron, or preferably steel gear, at some point.

  Virtus also found the lockbox that held his mana pendant. He put it inside his chest without comment. When he started to give back Calphus' pendant I refused him, and he didn't press.

  The last room down the hallway was a locked room with a stone door. When I used Martus' key to open it, I found a tiny room with a stone pedestal in the middle. On top of that pedestal was a smoke-filled crystal orb. I felt a heaviness as I walked into the room.

  “No...king...here…”

  This time I didn't bother asking if anyone else had heard the voice. It had been that frequent that I could tell just by looking around. And judging by the sympathetic, but slightly worried look, they could all tell that I had been hearing things too.

  “No...king...here...Earthborn...flee…”

  "That's coming from the orb, right?" I finally asked. "That voice you all can't hear, that's calling me by name and telling me to leave?"

  Virtus nodded.

  "I think the curse-stone doubled as a monitoring device, in case we somehow found a way to break the contract."

  "I should have probably asked this sooner," I began, "but who is your employer? I can ask that, now that you're free, right?"

  "The contract was stringent enough to where I honestly don't know if I could reveal them even if I had left the service," Virtus admitted. "But I never found out who it was. The representative never revealed their name or species and we never met with them." The skeleton sighed. "That probably should have been our first clue that it was a bad contract. But the payout was too great, and the situation was too desperate, for us to really care."

  "But chances are someone in charge is watching us, right now?" I asked.

  "Possibly," Virtus replied. "But we won't know until you try to destroy it. To do that, walk up to it and begin pouring mana into it. You may have to regenerate several times, but it should work in the end."

  "You sure about that?" I asked. "It seems like this thing would be more heavily guarded, or harder to destroy, considering how important it is."

  "That's the thing," the skeleton answered me. "It takes more mana to destroy than any of us can carry in our bodies. And since this thing supplies both mana and binds souls here to give us even more mana, attempting to destroy it is a futile suicide for the attempter, and a death sentence for the rest of us if they were somehow successful. We'd never even let each other try, no matter how impossible it was."