Brace For the Wolves

by Nathan Thompson

  “But no, I don't think that's the case this time,” Breena explained. “Wes, I don't think this Icon is using the Horde. I think the Horde are using the Icon.”

  “Isn't that the opposite of how it's usually supposed to go?” I asked. “I thought a Pit was supposed to pledge itself to a strong enough being, to be used for agreeable purposes.”

  “Yeah, usually,” Breena answered. “But Wes, this Icon created a new species of Horde, and all they're concerned about is killing you. Most Dark Icons would focus on something else, like slaves or wealth or conquest. There's only one reason for this Dark Icon to want to kill you so badly.”

  “I took his chew-toy, didn't I?” I asked. “Sorry I didn't ask first, it's just that my teeth itched and...”

  Breena groaned.

  “Wes, seriously?”

  “Coping mechanism. Sorry, please continue.”

  “Anyway,” Breena harrumphed. “The only reason an Icon you haven't met yet would want to kill you so badly would be because it's literally in their nature to desire your death. Just like it's literally in Mother Glade's nature to care for wildlife, and it's literally in Great Pan's nature to play whimsical tricks.”

  “Hey, I remember that guy,” I said. “He really liked me.”

  “I know,” Breena said. “I would have made much healthier expectations about you if I had paid more attention to that fact. But the point is that Icons tend to arise from a variety of ways, but the reason almost always involves an unanswered concept shouted loudly enough by a world. That's the only time someone or something becomes an Icon in truth, and that's why Icons are always tied to certain concepts.”

  “So for example,” I replied, “Mother Glade became an Icon when the Woadlands had a need for someone to look after the flora and fauna.”

  “She's mostly about fauna, but yes,” Breena nodded. “And the Bloody-horned Huntsman came into being on that world similarly, by enough monsters desiring vicious hunts. The only way this Maw-wolf guy or whatever would want to kill you this badly is because someone else wanted it to come about, and no one else wants that but the Pit, as far as I know. Especially since your Malus Men don't pray to Icons.”

  “Wait,” I replied. “You're saying the Horde created this Icon? How is that even possible?”

  “I just told you how,” Breena insisted. “We're not one hundred percent sure on how Dark Icons come about, but that's mostly because we don't understand why monsters want the things that they want. But apparently enough of the Horde want to kill you that a Dark Icon was able to champion that specific cause.”

  “Wow,” I replied. “I mean, I'm not surprised by their hatred, just because I've sort of paid attention, but how is it that there's enough Horde to hate me that much? It sounds like it takes a whole world full of beings to make a Dark Icon.”

  “It does,” Breena replied hesitantly. “And there is a whole world full of Horde.”

  Another howl sounded out. Another stupid chant that I didn't bother listening to this time.

  “Wes,” Breena continued. “Do you remember when Stell talked about us not winning every battle with the Horde?”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “Does that have anything to do with that last door in that room behind us? The one with a scratched out picture, when every other door has a picture of a world?”

  “We call it the Lost Deeps,” Breena said sadly. “It was early on, when Stell was still learning. She wasn't even half-grown at the time.”

  “I'm sorry,” I replied.

  “But yes,” Breena continued, as Avalon sent me another update that the Horde were still approaching. Avalon's power and the shelter's wards were still making it difficult for them to travel through and so they were moving much slower than my own people had done earlier. “There is an entire world of Horde. And apparently they fear you enough to create an Icon and send it after you.”

  All is not Lost, a voice echoed inside of me. The image of a hopeless world in chains reappeared before my eyes.

  “I'm sorry,” I said quietly.

  “It's not your—”

  “I'll do what I can to get it back.”

  Shocked silence.

  “Wes, that's not what we—”

  “Summoned me for?” I asked, turning toward her. The Horde was not here yet. For all I knew, this conversation was keeping everyone from fidgeting or getting nervous. “You didn't summon me, Breena,” I said quietly. “Stell didn't summon me. I arrived here, on Avalon, when you most needed me, without anyone knowing how or why. Right after I had just been told I wasn't going to ever be good for anything in life. So far everyone's been wrong about what I can do. I'm not a cripple-head and I'm not a pedophile's son and I'm not some guy that can just save the day only once before he has to go home. So before you tell me ‘I can't’ or ‘I shouldn't’ save someone, know that I am done with having other people telling me what my limits are. I am standing against this Icon. And then, when I am ready, I will stand against the world that sent him at me. Because they will just send another one if I manage to kill this one. And because there just might still be people on that world that can be saved, that aren't as broken and wrecked as everyone says they are, and who can still recover, at least enough to do glorious things of their own.”

  Hostiles approaching perimeter, Avalon said in my head. Estimated time of arrival at ten minutes.

  “Noted,” I said. “Everybody do a last minute check on your gear.”

  They hadn't needed me to tell them that, but they acted like they were listening as they did what they would have done anyway. I saw Virtus adjust a strap on his bronze armor, and Eadric do the same. Weylin and Karim adjusted their padding and mail a bit, and Breena did an experimental flip through the air. I adjusted my own straps and buckles. I was wearing what might have been the last spare thick leather jerkin over what was definitely the last spare coat of mail over what was also the only remaining padded gambeson that fit my size. All things considered, this armor fit and worked better than the harness I had jury-rigged in my mad, 'get everything done today, no excuses' adventure a few night ago. But I still didn't expect it to withstand an Icon's attacks.

  But Guineve was behind me, so maybe I wouldn't have to.

  Or maybe we will, Teeth spoke up.

  What do you mean? I asked.

  I mean if I have to choose between dying to an Icon or yielding all the power I understand to you, I choose not dying to an Icon. You're not that irritating. Yet.

  What does that have to do with anything? I asked. Are you saying you can power me up to actually take out an Icon?

  I'm saying I've taken another look at what you're capable of, and you're not as weak as I thought. I'm saying together we just might be able to sneak in a surprise punch if we have to.

  Well, I offered. I hate dying more than I hate working with you too. Right now. So we have common ground. But if you do something I hate enough, I'm sticking my head in that thing's maw.

  Likewise. First mutual rule proposed: don't be a dick.

  Deal.

  I turned back to look at Guineve. “You okay?” I asked.

  “Focusing, dear Wes,” Guineve replied sweetly, but tensely. Her eyes were closed. “Please don't distract me.”

  Right. Concentration. That was the same reason she hadn’t been able to join us in a mind-link. One of them, anyway.

  I fell silent, cycled through my weapons, and headed for the stairs.

  “Me and Eadric at the front. Virtus, you're right behind us. Karim and Weylin take positions close by. Ideally I'd like you both to be in positions to offer cover fire, but with the doorway so narrow I don't know how it will work out.”

  “Let us take front,” Weylin offered. “Then we'll pull back before their melee troops close in.”

  Karim nodded.

  “That's actually pretty normal in wars. The archers advance first, and then draw back.”

  “Right,” I replied.

  Stell taught me that.

  I should have re
membered.

  In fact, now that I looked at the staircase from the bottom, it was pretty easy to see to the top. It was still too narrow to be comfortable even for honeymooners, but the ceiling was high all the way down. Weylin and Karim wouldn't be able to shoot at anything right next to us, but the crowd on the way down was going to be fair game until they completely ran out of ammo. I was reminded of the fact that this place had been designed both as a last-resort shelter, and as a final tomb if the shelter failed.

  Another tornado-howl sounded out, and something shuddered outside.

  Exterior wards counteracted by Dark Icon's magic, Avalon said in my mind. Horde's speed is no longer restricted.

  Is there anything else you can do to inhibit them? I asked back.

  Negative, Avalon replied. Dark Icon is resisting direct planetary interference. Recommend the use of already prepared measures.

  Sure thing, I replied. When the time is right. Let me know their position and movements. I turned back to look at Eadric and Virtus. Eadric still had his bronze-colored hammer and Virtus still had his stone short sword, but right now both were holding spears and shields. As was I. I had gathered that though everyone had been letting me sleep, Virtus had been running the three Testifiers almost non-stop through weapon drills of every kind. I had no idea if elves and dwarves in these worlds cared much for spears. But if they hadn't, Virtus had made damned sure the group here was proficient in them.

  We formed up behind Weylin and Karim. Breena hovered just behind us. She'd take flight eventually, but we were going to make sure that the Hordebeasts hadn't grown enough brains for ranged weapons yet. I guessed that the only reason they hadn't learned yet was because none of them had survived fighting us, but I wasn't going to count on that yet, and if we survived today there was no way they weren't being more careful in the future.

  “Okay, slight change of plans. We're going to take advantage of the fact that Virtus doesn't really tire. Once Karim and Weylin get their volleys off and retreat back, Virtus and I will step forward. We're going to go with the Empty Pitcher strategy.”

  Everyone around managed to wince at that. Even the guy without eyebrows.

  “That's still a really stupid name,” Weylin pointed out.

  “Yeah, I know,” I admitted. “I'm counting on that helping it stick.”

  “We need to stop letting him talk and think so much,” Eadric grumbled.

  “How do you plan on making him stop?” Karim asked.

  “Same way my people manage tourists,” the dwarf muttered. “Get the tall pretty lady to help make a new beverage. Have her tell him it's a dwarven energy drink. He should be out for half a month.”

  “Guys,” I said out loud. “Focus. It's just a rotate-magic plan. Show you can remember that and I'll never use a dumb name for a plan again.”

  “Liar,” Eadric snorted.

  “On purpose,” I clarified.

  “Liar,” Breena chipped in cheerfully.

  I sighed, reached into my shirt, and lowered one of our remaining mana pendants into the mist. It was a shame to waste it on a scenario like this, instead of using it to enhance a long-term project, but I couldn't afford to mess around in a fight with a Dark Icon.

  The pendant glowed as it came into contact with Avalon's essence, and I saw it float carefully out of the way of our future fight.

  On that signal, a little happy ball began jumping up and down at the back of the room, and the mist took on a blue hue for the briefest of moments.

  “Di-rec-tive!” it whispered excitedly. “Care! Refresh! Heal!”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Stay out of the fight and do just that. So that we can fight all day if we have to.”

  Hostiles approaching perimeter, Avalon sounded off in my mind. Appear to be tracking the Challenger directly by scent.

  Of course they are, I mind-mumbled.

  Not that it mattered. We hadn't exactly bothered to cover our trail, and even if we had, there were over a hundred refugees at this point. The fact that they were still relying on their special 'hate Wes Malcolm to death' magic to find me was a little funny, and probably making their job harder than it needed to be at this point.

  Far over our heads, I began to hear faint yips and howls.

  Hostiles are now approaching the partially opened entrance to underground structure, Avalon informed me.

  That was another thing they could have paid more attention to. We left the front door open.

  There are only two main groups of people that do that. People with large destructive dogs, who live next to neighbors they really-really hate, and people who want someone else to walk inside their house and fall into their trap.

  I waited for a moment to see if the Raw-Mawed Wolf would have his forces be cautious.

  “Traitor-prince! Traitor-prince! Catch and kill the traitor-prince!”

  That answered that.

  Another gale-force howl sounded out, and I could practically feel the monsters hurl themselves at the opening.

  Avalon, close the door fully, I instructed.

  Complying, the computer sent back.

  Several painful thuds rang out from the top of the long stairwell.

  Now reactivate the contact-triggered traps, I ordered.

  Complying.

  The ceiling above us shook slightly, as several booms and sizzles trickled down the stairs. The closed door muffled the other sounds, but I could still imagine the shrieks of pain and anger going on right now.

  Now slowly open the door, I commanded next, and project the following message to the Horde outside: Do not worry. The entrance is safe now. Come on in. We have candy and cookies and punch.

  Complying, Avalon replied.

  I heard the door slowly open, letting light stream down again. Then Avalon boomed out the message I gave it in a loud, monotone voice. For a moment everything from above seemed quiet.

  “Um,” Weylin said softly. “Why did it say that to them?”

  “Psychological warfare,” I explained in a whisper.

  “But will it work?” Breena asked quietly. “I just checked. We don't have any candy or cookies or punch.”

  “Honey, Wes needs this,” Guineve whispered from the back. “Go ahead and let him have it.”

  I decided again that I loved all of my new friends, and would do everything in my power to keep them all alive.

  Another mighty howl sounded, and the yells and yips and bellows started up again.

  “Kill the traitor-prince!” I heard some monster shout. Then shadows began to trickle downward as the monsters gathered by the door above us.

  “This is it,” I told everyone. “Avalon, what do they look like they're sending down first?”

  “First wave of attack appears to consist of Ilkling and Wretch-class Hordebeasts,” Avalon informed us all from the nearby mists.

  “Great. You guys can pick your targets however you want,” I said to Breena, Karim and Weylin.

  “Hey, Wes,” Breena spoke up. “Can we try and just talk through the mind-link from now on? That way you don't have to keep reminding us about your Empty Pitcher plan?”