by James Hunter
Sabra saved her spells, favoring her deadly shepherd’s crook instead. She stole forward, quick and agile in her thorny armor, and lopped off the head of a hound before whirling the crook around and slicing off the overextended arm of an imp.
Euryleia hurled three javelins from the back of Buttercup. Three shots, three Hellhounds dead, each spear hitting with deadly, uncanny precision. Buttercup waded in to deal with the imps, her gnashing fangs ripping out throats, her murderous claws shredding torsos and faces.
But enough lollygagging. Time for me to pull my weight. I planted my feet, thrust my sword forward, and activated my newest ability, calling forth a legion of Plague Locusts. The godstone flared like a star being born. Terrible energy raced down my arm and up through my blade, exploding from the tip with a burst of jade light. I staggered, woozy and nauseous from the flood of Essence which had just run out from me. Ninety Divine Essence Points wasn’t anything to scoff at.
I steadied myself, watching with keen interest as a strange green cloud formed above the imps and Hellhounds still biding their time in the back ranks. The cloud shifted and swirled, dissipating as insectile shapes took form. Locusts—a thousand of them, easy—though not like any I’d ever seen before. Each was easily three inches long, their chitinous exterior glossy emerald and their wings an eye-searing violet. Half-inch golden mandibles protruded from their faces.
The army of insect horrors took to wing at once, spreading out like the plague they were, attacking my enemies with unholy hunger. Imps screeched, slapping uselessly at the air while the bugs clawed at exposed skin, bit at eyeballs, and burrowed into open mouths and flaring nostrils. Many dropped to their knees, hands wrapped around necks, struggling to breathe as the locusts poured down their throats.
I grinned, fierce and feral. Wicked cool.
Taking advantage of the chaos caused by the locusts, Loxo emerged from the darkness. She leapt into the air like a circus performer, her legs flashing up as she flipped. Somehow, she fired an arrow while inverted, impaling a Hellhound through the skull, before landing as gracefully and quietly as a cat. And then she was gone, melted back into the shadows as my locust army dissolved into ash, the spell having run its course.
In the meantime, Phoebe unfolded the arms of her steampunk mech and sent a barrage of crossbow bolts into the surviving imps and hounds. One bolt would shoot out, and the feeding system would roll in another shaft as pistons pulled the strings back.
Ariadne melded with Thunderfoot to become a towering minotaur. With her long legs, she simply stepped over the bloodthirsty front lines, beelining for the zombie nagas protecting the chieftain. Our main team could handle the baby Cerberuses and the evil house-elves, but we needed to take out the zombies and their imp master.
I messaged my Teleporter. Sophia, I need a lift. I want to show Earl’s homeboy my War Blade up close.
Sophia puffed in behind me in a flash of purple radiance and sulfur. Taking me under the arms, she was gone a moment later. We reappeared behind the petrified cyclops, who stood astride two of the bridges. The heat from the lava flows was intense. Sweat gushed from my pores and ran down my back. My new mammoth cloak might’ve been great against the cold, but holy crap was it hot.
The thunder of the battle echoed off the walls and ceiling as Ariadne exchanged a flurry of blows with the writhing mass of undead nagas. Their swords clanged off her ax and slashed into her hairy legs. Many of the blades failed to cut her thick hide, but others drew lines of bright blood. An undead naga threw a spear into Ariadne’s side. A bellow exploded from her bull’s head as she went down.
Asteria sprouted wings, turned into a monster bat, and sailed by overhead. In midair, she transformed back into a snake. She landed next to the fallen minotaur, swept nagas into the lava with her tail, ensnared others in thick coils, and then reached back to snap up a Hellhound in her massive, fang-studded jaws. She swallowed it down her gullet even as it wriggled and thrashed inside her neck. I threw one hand forward, unleashing Healing Touch on the minotaur shifter, restoring her back to full HP while Asteria helped the warrior to her cloven-hooved feet.
I put them both from mind as I turned on the imp chieftain. Time to deal with that little turd for good.
I charged with a war cry, raising my free hand, triggering Lightning Lance. A trickle of Essence disappeared as a bolt of blue-white fury erupted from my palm and streaked across the cavern. The attack smashed into him like a Louisville Slugger. He staggered back with a squawk, fingers of steam curling up from his chainmail, but he didn’t go down. I launched the spell again, this time sideswiping him, knocking him from his perch on the statue.
He toppled ass over teakettle, but a mass of undead nagas broke his fall.
While he struggled to recover, I closed the distance, sword raised. Ready to fight. To kill. The godstone was practically singing in my chest.
He leapt to his feet and darted forward, a semicircle of undead nagas forming at his back. He whirled the flail at me, the attack sweeping low, aiming to take out an ankle or a knee. I dropped down, absorbing the blow on my shield, then dove right into a blazing-fast front roll, which brought me back to my feet. I parried an incoming scimitar strike, courtesy of a naga, and promptly sandblasted the snake-faced sucker with a Lightning Lance before returning my full attention to the chieftain.
I parried another mace swipe, batting the spike-studded skull aside with contemptuous ease, then shot in, thrusting my blazing sword into the imp’s chest. The little bastard might’ve been resistant to magic, but his armor couldn’t hang with the War Blade. Nope. My weapon slipped through the chainmail as though it were a cotton T-shirt and kept right on going, erupting clean through the imp’s back. The mini-Necro dropped his mace, groping dumbly at the blade as I lifted him from the floor, holding him in the air with the sword.
Surprisingly, however, he chuckled, black blood flowing out of his mouth, spilling down his chin. Not sure what he was laughing about, but it was laughter all right.
I raised one foot and slammed it into the imp’s gut, ripping the War Blade back in the same instant.
The chieftain flopped to the floor, eyes glassy, legs Jell-O, a puddle of blood forming around him in a halo. And with him gone, the undead nagas dropped back to the stone, corpses once more.
The last of the Hellhounds and imps were dispatched by my Amazons. I decided to use my other new ability, and I hit everyone with a Healing Touch spell all at once. The godstone in my chest flashed with blinding light, which streaked all about the grand hall. Essence Points drained from me to heal the wounds. It was a lot—the effort bent me over—and I felt drained afterwards.
I was down to 220 Essence, I’d have to be a bit more frugal with my spell-casting.
I stood with a shake of my head and stole a quick glance at my watch. Damn shit fuck! 5:45 a.m. The battle had only taken us ten minutes, but every second was precious. Hopefully this was the invasion force, but there was no way to tell for certain, so we still needed to haul ass. I messaged Hippolyta and got no response. I tried Toxaris, Calla, Otrere, and Aella. Nothing but silence. In my combat display, they seemed okay, though the messaging system wasn’t working.
I sprinted from the bridge and into Stheno’s pavilion. I immediately spotted the scroll, sitting near a wood-bound treasure chest, right where I’d left it after my battle against the Gorgon. I snatched it up and unrolled it. At the very bottom was a picture of a snake woman that looked a lot like Stheno, snake hairdo and all—though Euryale had wings and boar tusks. A real looker.
In the picture, Euryale was escaping through an alcove at the very end of the hall.
Loxo sped over like the wind, took one look at the scroll, and raced over bridges and past statues to the back wall. Like before, she used her dagger to trigger the opening.
Sophia teleported over carrying Sabra. Myrina and Antiope arrived with whirlwind speed. My bear rider, my bull rider, and Phoebe in her tromping mech all joined us in front of the secret passageway.
Still, it was odd. As we descended, the old guy in the mosaics got younger and younger until he was a baby curled around the weapon.
The smell of jungle wafted up. At the bottom of the long, wide staircase was the opening to a vast cavern full of lush greenery—looming palm trees, massive ferns, otherworld flowers in a riot of colors. A bright light illuminated the mouth of the entrance.
Everyone, into the jungle, now! I messaged in a near panic.
My Amazons burst from the corridor and into a vast cavern as strange as an alien world.
I was the last to leave the tunnel. Checking my watch, it was 5:55 a.m. Spinning, I scooped up a handful of dust from the floor. Once out onto the lush soil of the Cave of Nyx, I tossed the debris through the opening. I watched in wonder as the dust crossed the threshold of the entrance … and froze. It hung in midair on the other side of the opening. Perfectly still.
Phoebe had been right. We’d just stepped outside of time.
While Lycastia City might already be under attack, the siege would be on pause while we explored the lost underground world.
Something crashed behind me, ponderous footsteps trundling through the thick undergrowth. Turning, I got my first sight of a dinosaur.
Holy shit, we’d just stepped out into the fucking Lost World.
ELEVEN
The Land That Time Completely Ignored
And I thought I’d seen everything.
Couldn’t be. Just. Couldn’t be.
Before us was an impossible tropical paradise of towering redwoods, humongous palm trees boasting fronds the size of cars, sprawling ferns, ancient pines, hanging vines, and massive fruit trees—branches heavy laden with yellow melons the size of bowling balls. Jackfruit, I thought idly. The chirping of birdsong flitted through the air, and a wave of humidity slapped into me, drenching me in sweat. Absentmindedly, I unclipped the Mammoth Cloak and let it drop behind me onto the leaves. I breathed deeply, inhaling the perfume of exotic flowers which mingled with the sickly-sweet smell of decaying plant life.
There wasn’t even the hint of a breeze. There was also light? But how?
I glanced up, shielding my eyes with one hand.
Miles above, in the center of the cavern’s ceiling, lay a cluster of crystals glowing brightly, throwing sunlight over the land. Stheno’s lair had been big, but that had been a definite room. This place was a realm unto itself: miles of jungle and water, including the river burbling by in front of us. At least as large as the Colorado River.
The real sight, however, was the fucking dinosaurs.
A herd of long-necked creatures trudged through the vast jungles, plucking the leaves from the highest trees with ease. Huge tails, the size of full-grown oaks, swayed behind them as they moved. There were at least a dozen of them, and each one had to be thirty tons, easy, and ninety feet long to boot. Their hides weren’t scaly, but gray and pebbled like the skin of a black rhino.
My Amazons reacted at once, spreading out in a loose semicircle before me, weapons raised, shields at the ready, gazes unwaveringly fixed on the massive creatures. Myrina, Asteria, and Antiope took point, Ariadne and Thunderfoot to their left, Euryleia on Buttercup to their right. Sabra, Sophia, and Phoebe took up positions just behind them—our support element—and Loxo clung to my left like a shadow, refusing to leave my side.
I waved a hand. “It’s alright, everyone,” I said, awe burning inside my chest like a hot coal. “I’m sure there’s a bunch of dangerous things down here, but these things are herbivorous. They won’t attack us, not unless we provoke them.”
“Such creatures, such mysteries, so majestic.” Myrina whispered. “How can anything be that enormous? What are they called?” she asked.
I wasn’t exactly a dinosaur expert, but I’d seen my fair share of Jurassic Park movies. “Brontosaurs,” I muttered. “Or would that be brontosauruses?”
Asteria, naked and uncaring, edged forward, breaking away from the others.
She reached a hand toward the creatures, fingers trembling, then dropped to her knees. Her chest heaved, and it didn’t take me long to figure out that she was crying. “They are beautiful, Jacob,” she said, glancing back at me. Trails of tears streaked down her cheeks. “Just look at how gentle they are, and how they relish the green leaves. What wonderful creatures. I want to become one …” She faltered. “Though I am not certain I have the Exousía to become so big.” She sounded absolutely forlorn at the prospect.
I slipped forward, past the front line—Loxo still dogging my heels—took Asteria’s hand, and pulled her to her feet. I slung an arm around her shoulder as we watched the creatures feed. No one talked. For weeks, we’d been under the constant threat of attack with the fate of the world hanging in the balance. But here, in this moment? Everything was oddly peaceful and serene. Being in the Cave of Nyx … Well, it was like we’d hit the snooze button and could finally catch our breath.
Here, we were outside of time and Lycastia City could wait until we got back.
We stood there for a long while, and though I could’ve watched the animals for hours, I knew it was time to get back to our mission. I dropped my arm from Asteria’s shoulders, retrieved the mammoth cloak, and clipped it back on with a grunt. Hot as balls. “Okay, Asteria, let’s you and I take a ride. Can you work a Pegasus for me so we can get a lay of the land?”
Asteria sniffed at her tears and nodded, melting into an azure horse with majestic eagle wings protruding from her shoulders. I climbed onto Asteria’s back and wedged my knees against the bone spurs jutting from her sides. She took a few running steps and launched herself into the air. A few of the long-necks stumbled away from the palm trees and into the river behind them. The boom of their feet—each the size of a car door—sent colorful birds up from trees in the distance.
As we climbed higher, I absently thought about what Asteria had said—about not having enough Exousía to make such a transformation. Most of the time, my generals didn’t have to worry about their own version of Essence points, but they did have limits. “Hey Asteria,” I said, the wind slapping away my words, making it hard to talk. “Why can’t you become a brontosaurus? I’ve seen you become a blue whale—they have to be just as big. Probably weigh even more.”
Yes, hoof-less two-legs, came her response. But the water, it cradles the body, holds the weight. A land creature such as that would be … challenging.
Hmm, I guess that made a certain sense. Buoyancy would help with the weight and size, and moving around that same amount of raw mass on land would definitely require a lot more power. She was maxed out in her shape-shifter form, but I was thinking if she increased her max Exousía, she might be able to become a dinosaur. But screw herbivores. God help me, I wanted a super-badass T. rex Asteria.
As we broke through the canopy, we heard a metallic screech from somewhere high above, but we didn’t think much of it. After all, we had plenty to look at. The place was huge and, for the most part, swampy. That made sense, since there probably was very little drainage down here. The Cave of Nyx was circular, with a diameter of about fifty miles all told. In my head, I drew a map. To the north, rising from a swampland, was a hill presiding over the valley like a watchful guard.
Sitting on top was a building, a sprawling complex of fine sandstone, gleaming white marble, graceful arches, and ceramic terra-cotta tiles. The fluted columns marching along the front of the place screamed temple. These Greeks sure loved their columns. But there was something decidedly strange about the place. It shivered and blurred, a hazy aura hanging around it like a cloud as though it didn’t really belong in this dimension—or any, for that matter.
South and west of the hill temple was a vast lak
e of sapphire waters dotted with tiny islands. Little more than sandbars, really. The lake was fed by the sweeping river that followed the circumference of the cave. To the east were mountains … I squinted, brow furrowed. No, not mountains. More like reverse mountains, actually. Enormous stalactites hung from the cavern ceiling like petrified prehistoric bats. A huge waterfall gushed from the inverted stony peaks, leaping and jumping down the rock face until it joined with the river below.
Asteria pumped her wings and banked hard right, a gust of heavenly wind brushing over my face as we circled around.
The southernmost part of the Cave of Nyx was a wasteland of barren earth: ashy-gray hardpan, red-orange lava flows, boiling mud pits, and spouting geysers. The river wound through that hellish ground and rolled to the western mountains, which also weren’t mountains. Stalagmites. Stalagmites so massive they might’ve given the Rocky Mountains a run for their money. Another temple was there. This one didn’t blur but sat there like the ruins of Ephesus that I had visited in Turkey … back when I was human, not riding a Pegasus over a land filled with actual dinosaurs.
I dug my knees in. Lower. Asteria nickered in response and swooped down, her hooves skimming over the tips of the trees, giving us a better view of the creatures below. It was like a prehistoric game drive. We saw all the classics: stegosaurs, triceratops, diplodocuses, iguanodons, a herd of velociraptors, and yes, the big daddy of them all, a Tyrannosaurus rex, contentedly chomping on a brontosaurus carcass.
Strange hoof-less ape creature, Asteria messaged me, we should get back to our herd. The mother mare will not be happy if we are gone too long.
That made me grin. The mother mare could only be Myrina.
Speaking of which, the Battle Warden’s voice hit my mind like a bank vault falling on me. Jacob, we are under attack! Creatures emerged from the river—armored, magic, dangerous…
Her voice snapped off as though the line had been rudely cut.