by K. M. Shea
“I feel sorry for your master.” Wendal unrolled a painting and held it up for Lord Aldelbert’s inspection.
Angelique smiled at her radish. “Me, too.”
“What’s wrong, Aldelbert?” Marzell asked.
Angelique peered at the young lord, who was staring at his rolled-up portraits with an uncommonly thoughtful expression. “My portraits are moving,” he announced. “I do not know if it’s because they are so filled with my glory they cannot stand to be hidden, or for some other reason.”
“What?” Rupert had been in the middle of pinning Oswald to the ground, but he backed up and peered into the woods at Aldelbert’s observation.
Oswald rolled across the flattened grass and snatched up his sword and Rupert’s, tossing the other warrior his weapon before he stood up. Fritz set the arrows he was fletching aside and stood in front of Snow White, holding his sheathed sword.
Angelique discreetly let her magic unfurl, narrowing her eyes as she tried to sense any sign of another mage’s presence.
Marzell scanned the edge of the forest. “Do you hear something?”
Oswald tilted his head back and listened to the wind as Rupert sniffed the air. They glanced at each other, then warily nodded.
Marzell cursed under his breath and hurriedly shoved his letters into the barrel with Aldelbert’s paintings.
Wendal snatched up a spear that leaned casually against the cottage and tossed it to Lord Aldelbert.
The bright-haired lord caught it with ease and whirled it above his head. “We’re ready!” he grinned, his smile as joyful as one of his portraits.
Gregori awoke—either by the sounds of his comrades or the general sense that a fight was coming. He rolled off his bench and somehow miraculously came to his feet with his crossbow loaded and a quiver hanging from his arm.
Angelique gritted her teeth as she finally sensed magic—not another mage. It wasn’t potent enough for that. No, whatever was coming was another magical construct of one kind or another.
She flipped open her satchel and grabbed as many starfires as she could hold. “Snow White, here.” She strode up to the princess and dropped them onto her lap. “Since this attack is during the day, I’m a bit doubtful these will help, but one never knows.”
Angelique glanced to the south, trying to pinpoint anything she could about the incoming creatures, but the magic that was out there seemed strangely warped or muffled. As if someone was half-blocking it.
Snow White cradled the starfires in her arms as she stood up. “Thank you.”
Angelique eased her legs apart into a fighting stance, snarling as she felt vibrations through the soles of her oversized boots.
Looks like the mage decided to send something bigger…
The deep, pained groan of splintering trees filled the woods. Two trees that made up the rim of the clearing around the cottage swayed, then slammed forward, snapping off at their thick trunks like kindling wood.
A monster climbed on top of the decimated trees—another construct.
This one was shaped together with jagged bolts of magic molded into something that was half-human, half-troll. The troll side shone through with its short legs, stooped back, and long arms that it planted in front of itself and leaned on almost like an extra pair of legs.
Although the entire construct was a watery black color, its eyes—which consisted of eerie, perfect holes like the previous constructs—were a fathomless black that made the hair on the back of Angelique’s neck stand on end. It seemed to flicker with power.
Is there…? Why can’t I feel the magic powering it?
She could feel a tiny bit coming off the construct, but its magical signature was even weaker than the previous constructs’, despite the fact that it was easily twice the size of Aldelbert or Fritz.
Angelique tried to flick a bit of her magic at the construct, but it bounced harmlessly off. Her magic! Harmless!
Gregori shot the construct in the chest and reloaded his crossbow before Angelique realized he’d attacked.
The construct didn’t seem at all upset about the bolt that protruded from its chest. It rocked its head back and forth, then roared—which sounded like an entire forest of trees snapping and splintering. It cut the noise off by clamping its jaw—grotesque due to the jagged edges that formed its mouth—shut.
Angelique blinked, still trying to make sense of its muffled magical signature, and the construct lurched forward, putting its weight on its arms and hefting itself across the small clearing with a lightning-like speed.
Marzell yanked two hand axes from Aldelbert’s barrel of portraits. “Angel, what can you tell us about this thing?”
“It’s not alive—it’s magic made.” Angelique clenched her jaw and tucked her chin, but no matter how she prodded the monster with her magical senses, she couldn’t make out much more than that.
Aldelbert thrust his spear into the construct’s side as it galloped past him. The construct screeched to a halt, digging its thick feet into the ground so it left ditches behind. It lunged around and slammed its massive fists on the ground, making it tremble.
Wendal flexed his fingers, and his daggers appeared, pinched between his fingers. “Any idea how to stop it?”
Angelique squinted at the monster and risked putting a little more power behind her magical senses, trying to see if more power would crack the muffled feeling she got from the construct. When her senses expanded, it hit the creature and bounced off as if smacking against a wall.
There’s a spell on that thing that’s repelling me. Did the rogue mage figure out someone with magic was helping Snow White?
“I’m trying to figure that out,” Angelique said. “It’s much stronger than the previous constructs. It can take both damage and light—the rogue mage put a lot more effort into this thing.”
Rupert raised his sword and settled back on his heels. “You don’t say?”
Oswald threw himself onto the creature’s back, hoisting himself up so he stood on its shoulder blades. “Just die!” He stabbed his sword between the construct’s shoulder blades again and again.
The monster didn’t react visibly to Oswald’s attack. It swayed on its feet for a moment, then heaved itself backwards, slamming its back into the ground.
Oswald leaped off it just barely in time, narrowly avoiding being crushed.
Fine. So the mage that made it actually protected the construct this time. That might work to my advantage if I can trace the mage through their own spell.
Angelique was vaguely aware of Fritz and Rupert attacking the construct as it flipped to its feet, moving before they could strike.
Oswald staggered away from the struggle. “Holy haybales, that thing is fast.”
Gregori scowled as he shot another bolt at the monster, this time hitting it in the face. “It also appears to have no weaknesses.”
Angelique, despite being in the middle of trying to think of a tracking spell that could trace magic and not a person—she’d specialized in tracking spells for people, after all, and was finding her mind woefully blank of any other kind of tracing spell—couldn’t let that comment go.
“That’s impossible,” she shouted. “Every type of magic has weaknesses and tradeoffs.”
The construct rushed Gregori, but it awkwardly sidestepped when Marzell threw an axe and struck it on the side of its head.
Marzell warily backed up. “If that’s so, it’s not an obvious one.”
“Snow White, do you see any possible way to kill it?” Fritz shouted back to her.
Snow White unfortunately stepped closer to Angelique—which would make it that much harder to use magic without the clever princess noticing. “No,” Snow White said. “Its exterior seems impermeable, but it moves fast when usually that would logically make it slower.”
I can attack it magically, as long as I pretend its herb magic. I’ll have time to think of an excuse later. Angelique glanced curiously down at Snow White, then ripped an herb sprig off her sat
chel.
The construct whirled around on its short legs, smashing its long arms into Rupert—sending the warrior flying.
Aldelbert jabbed his spear at the construct’s gut, and the construct grabbed at him, its craggy fingers grasping for his body.
Wendal smoothly stepped in. He threw a dagger that hit the creature in its eye socket. The weapon’s blade was too thick to puncture its eye; instead, it was jammed in the hole.
Aldelbert grinned at his friend. “Nice shot, Wendal!”
Wendal narrowed his eyes and made a tsking noise. “It did nothing, though.”
Angelique was still mentally paging through what kind of tracking spell she could use to follow the mage’s power—she’d focused on spells that tracked a person, not a magical imprint— so she was only half paying attention when the monster smacked itself on the back of the head, dislodging Wendal’s dagger.
“I don’t know about this,” Snow White murmured.
“There is one bright side to all this.” Marzell chucked his remaining axe at the monster. It struck it at the knee joint, but it only clipped the creature and bounced off instead of digging in.
“What’s that?” Oswald grumbled. “It hasn’t damaged our home?”
“No.” Marzell sprinted for the far side of the cottage and scooped up a mace the warriors had been using to prop open a shutter. “It does not seem to be targeting Snow White.”
True. I’d say that’s another indicator the rogue mage knows she’s not alone and is being more deliberate in this strike.
“Quite right!” Aldelbert rolled his shoulders back with a laugh, then rushed the construct. He ducked past its arms, bringing him to a stop beneath its chest and belly. He stabbed his spear upwards, heaving with his entire body.
The construct contorted so it leaned on its arms, then kicked Aldelbert with enough force to flip him head over heels.
Aldelbert smashed into a stack of firewood, scattering logs everywhere.
Wendal darted around so he stood between the blonde-haired lord and the construct. “Are you badly injured, My Lord?”
Aldelbert gurgled and his muscles twitched, but after a few moments, he managed to take a wheezing inhale and waved Wendal’s concern off.
Oswald and Fritz converged on the construct, stabbing at its abdomen.
The construct lumbered back on its legs, then bunched its claws into fists and swung them at the pair.
Fritz dodged and rushed around to the construct’s back, stabbing it there as the warriors tried to find a weak spot. Oswald also ducked the punch, but he had to retreat when the construct swung around to face Fritz.
Angelique finally settled on a tracing spell, a basic one she only vaguely remembered. Puss had actually been the one to teach it to her when, as a demonstration against the hypothetical situation of needing to trace the magic signature of an enchanted item across the city, she’d opted to call a swarm of bees and attempted to imprint them with the item’s magic signature. Puss had not been pleased. (He’d yowled most of the spell at her in between swatting bees out of the air.)
The tracing spell consisted of one long, ribbon-like structure constructed from magic and folded in loops, which would unwind once set upon a target.
Angelique pushed her eyebrows high up her forehead as she tried to remember some of the trickier language to the spell and mentally form it so she could blast it with her powers and create it without, hopefully, notifying the black mage if they had a similar spell on the constructs.
Just as she let her core magic—colder than the air and as sharp as a blade—unfurl, Snow White stirred at her side.
Snow White turned around and peered up at the cottage roof. “It’s a trick!”
Chapter 24
A snarl came from above and behind. Angelique barely had time to peel her attention from her magic and peer up at a second construct that was crouched on the roof before it flung itself off, nearly landing on top of her.
Blast—I didn’t feel it because of this odd interference that’s covering the magic that powers it! This calls for a change in priorities. I need to get us some distance. Since it appears to be made of wood, perhaps fire will harm it?
She didn’t know of any herb magic that would create fire, but the situation was getting a little tense.
Angelique thrust out her herb sprig and twisted her already loosened magic into a spell for fire. The herb burst into flames, and Angelique mashed it on the construct’s arm.
Snow White showed off her good sense by scrambling away, which meant she was in the clear when the construct slammed a fist down on Angelique.
Angelique took a step back, barely avoiding the painful hit. She saw it lift up a foot and knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid it.
Her magic—fast from her relentless practice—flowed into a tiny shield spell that she shaped with a snap of her fingers just as the construct kicked at her.
The kick hit her shield with enough force to flip her backwards and smash her into the cottage wall. Smacking against the cold and unforgiving stone wall rattled her teeth, but her shield had held and taken the brunt of the damage. She wouldn’t even have a bruise.
“Angel!” Snow White screamed.
Should I really bother keeping my front?
Somewhere in the clearing, the first construct roared.
Yes, I need to. If only to fool the black mage doing this.
Angelique peeled herself off the cottage wall, grimacing at the grime that coated her hands. “Well.” Angelique casually dusted herself off and made a show of holding up her squashed satchel as if it had been responsible for her surprisingly good health. “Its weakness is not fire.”
The first construct attacked Aldelbert and Wendal, wildly swinging an arm at them—which they rolled underneath.
As Rupert made a run for Snow White, the second construct snatched up logs from the firewood pile and chucked them at him.
Marzell swung his mace in a wide arc, using the momentum to throw it at the first construct. It crunched the construct’s chin, making its jaw snap shut over its upper lip. “We can’t let them separate us from Snow White,” he yelled.
The construct staggered a few steps as it tried to yank its jaw open. It appeared irritated, but it didn’t seem like its jaw was a weakness either.
Angelique set her shoulders and recalled her mental image of the tracing spell.
I don’t know if I have that last loop correct, but I can adjust it if it seems to be working incorrectly—or explodes.
Her core magic eagerly twined around her fingers. Angelique yanked hard on it, fleshing out the tracing spell in the span of an inhalation.
She snipped the flow of her magic from the spell—soothing her power back into place—then flung it at the closest construct, hoping that Snow White and the warriors didn’t notice the few silvery sparks the brief usage left behind.
The silver ribbon of the spell twined around the construct’s left arm. Instead of soaking into the creation as it was supposed to, it lay limply against it. Angelique tried to stretch her magic senses through it, but all she got was the same muffled feeling she’d encountered earlier.
Eventually, the construct swatted at one of the warriors, and the spell slipped off its arm and fluttered to the ground.
Angelique’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. The mage must have put some sort of shield on the construct. But why does my magic bounce off and not get absorbed?
Grimly, Angelique prepped to reproduce the spell—this time with a great deal more power.
“Gregori,” Snow White shouted. “Aim for inside their eyes!”
The second construct stretched its claws out as it reached for Snow White.
Angelique saw it out of the corner of her eye and barely yanked Snow White aside in time.
Despite the danger, the set of Snow White’s chin was stubborn. “Or their mouths if they’re open!”
Gregori slapped another bolt into place in his crossbow. “I’ll give it a try.”
&
nbsp; Angelique stared down the second construct as she flashed another tracing spell into existence—this one used enough magic that it glowed. The only reason why no one noticed is because Snow White was busy watching the attack on the first construct, and Oswald and Fritz were attempting to keep the second one from flattening the princess.
Let’s try this again—but this time I’m not going to be brushed off!
Angelique hurled the spell at the second construct, and it plastered against its leg. Her core magic enveloped the tracing spell and easily sliced through whatever shield the black mage had put on the construct, unveiling the much stronger, meatier magic that powered the larger construct.
Angelique smirked. Finally! Now—
Before she could continue, a new shield spell snapped into place around the construct, muffling its magic once more and shoving the tracing spell off with such violent force, Angelique actually staggered a step.
How could—what—the mage didn’t just build these things and send them on their merry way. He’s actively feeding power into them!
Oswald climbed onto the back of the second construct—which seemed much more intent on Snow White than the first.
Fritz stabbed the construct in the arm, drawing its attention.
The construct tried to grab Fritz, its claws passing so close to the forester when he ducked through its legs, that it sliced through his leather doublet.
The construct pointed itself at Snow White again, until Oswald stabbed it in the back. He was nearly crushed when the creature pivoted and slammed its back into the side of the stone cottage—he slid down its side and dropped free just in time.
The construct’s antics shook the building. The roof trembled, and Angelique was pretty sure she heard some of the copper pots Fritz had meticulously hung on the walls fall with a loud clang.
“Why are these monsters so intent on smashing things with their backs?” Oswald grumbled as he scrambled out of the way.
Gregori, crouched behind the half-toppled pile of firewood, prepared to take his shot. “Aldelbert, get its attention and hold it somewhere behind me.”