I hate being right.
A guard next to Fionn threw up at the sight of the creature, and a faint whiff of it permeated the air. Clearly, everybody was scared beyond belief, everybody but two people, the Dragonking and Fionn, the legendary Greywolf, the hero of the war.
Or at least it seemed that way but inside, Fionn felt a heavy pain in his chest. His breathing became difficult as he gulped down breaths to muster the courage. He didn’t run from a fight. But this occasion was bringing back a flood of bad memories. On the other hand, the Dragonking stood defiantly, like his predecessors stood before against overwhelming odds, and he walked towards the creature and its minions. Fionn couldn’t help but admire him. Ignorance is bliss, he thought, and he followed the cue by unsheathing Black Fang, whose steel blade glowed with green light. People depended on him.
Both started to fight the approaching troopers. The Dragonking was more than just a title or a sobriquet; it represented a tradition stretching back since the Dawn Age of Asherah the first magi, to the Golden Age, from Queen Khary of the first freefolk kingdom to Tharvol today. The Dragonking or Dragonqueen was the most powerful, most well-versed and usually wisest magick user of all the freefolk, even of all people on the whole planet. To reach the title at a relatively young age, as Tharvol had done, with his black curly hair not yet marred by the gray hairs of advanced age, was nothing short of prodigious. Fionn had grown fond of the man who had proved to be a true friend. As much as he was worried about Sam, he knew that by keeping the Tovainar distracted, he was giving her time to escape. And he wouldn’t let a friend fight alone against something that even Fionn had to admit was frightening.
While Fionn cut through the weapons of the troopers, knocking them down with kicks so hard that they could break stone, he noticed two things. The first was that neither Madam Park nor the bearded man were anywhere to be seen. They were either ransacking Hunt’s office or going after the students. The second thing he noticed was the hilarious sight of the troopers running towards the Dragonking, expecting to hit a squishy wizard and facing instead an accomplished hand-to-hand fighter. Tharvol was not only a magick user but a titanfighter, trained to focus immense power through his armor in order to battle creatures beyond mortal ken.
Tharvol and Fionn, working in concert, had moved swiftly, and eloquently against the squads of troopers to clear the hallway of enemies. By the end of their advance, it was just the Tovainar and a few remaining guards against them. Fionn thought for a second they might have a chance, that maybe an easy fight was just that: an easy fight.
The Tovainar opened its arms, inviting attack, mocking Fionn and Tharvol with its unnerving laugh. He pointed his sword at the corpses of the dead guards. They were animated by a blue energy that raised them like puppets, with their relaxed arms barely holding their weapons, and a black ichor spilling from their pierced guts. They stood in order despite their broken bones. It was then that Fionn noticed that the troopers had circlets around their necks, similar to the one on the creature he fought before.
“Damn,” Fionn muttered. He said to the Dragonking, “Listen to me, Tharvol, it’s time to leave. It will get ugly. You have to trust me on this.”
“I won’t see Ravenstone fall into the hands of a heathen,” The Dragonking said, not pausing for a second. “Let’s see if that thing can nullify this.” He then made circular movements with his hands, generating a blue sphere of condensed energy that grew with every moment.
Why do you have to be so stubborn? Fionn shook his head, he knew all too well the spell Tharvol was about to cast. “I wouldn’t do that, you are going to bring the whole place down.” But the warning came too late.
The Tovainar just laughed and opened its arms once more, mocking them. The Dragonking was furious, grinding his teeth. He continued his hand motions, as the blue sphere grew in size and started rotating. When it picked up enough speed in its turns, the Dragonking threw it towards the Tovainar, who didn’t move. The sphere kept growing along the way, drawing energy from the hallowed halls of Ravenstone. But the Tovainar just walked towards the sphere with unnerving calm. Using its sword, he hit the sphere like a ball, sending it towards the Dragonking. Fionn ran towards Tharvol to get him out of the way, while the magus tried to cast a protection spell.
“It can’t be!” Tharvol yelled.
The last thing Fionn saw was a blue flash of energy exploding against Tharvol’s spell. The walls crumbled around him and a shockwave hit his chest.
The blue flash engulfed the whole place.
† † †
“We are almost there.”
Sam was leading Alex, Gaby, and Harland through dark corridors. Alex and Gaby, well mostly Gaby, cleared the path of enemies. Alex liked to think that he could hold his own in a fight, though not at Gaby’s level. But right now he was more occupied with keeping Gaby from slipping into the Ice State again. And he did it the only way he knew: telling the group lame jokes.
“So I asked this guy at the board game club, you know the guy, the one that looks like a hobo and doesn’t wear shoes: Did you take a shower today? And he replied: Why? Is there one missing?”
The joke got a collective groan, but Alex noticed how Gaby’s lips crooked into her trademark smile. He sighed in relief and let himself get distracted. He didn’t notice the massive fist flying towards his face. It hit him square in the jaw and almost knocked him out.
A brute with long, greasy hair, wearing a vest over his bare blueish chest and wearing a circlet, was blocking the way like a wall made of muscle. Alex could see a blurry form. Harland was in front him, trying to keep the creature distracted. He looked around but Gaby and Sam were nowhere to be seen.
“Excuse me, but you are in my way. Could you please let us through?” Harland asked politely.
“Urgh?” That was the only reply.
“Wonderful.” Harland pinched the bridge of his nose. “And if I offer you a sizeable amount of money? You know, to buy alcohol or whatever you want?”
The brute reacted the only way that his brain allowed and picked up Harland, crushing him with his arms. Alex got up to help Harland. He picked up his bow and let loose an electrified arrow which hit the man in the thigh. The shock wasn’t enough to knock the brute out, but was enough to make him drop to one knee and release Harland.
Gasping for air, Harland grabbed a nearby plank from a broken door and used it to hit the brute as hard as he could in the back of the head. The plank broke in two. The brute fell unconscious to the floor with a loud thud and blood trickled from his head.
“Nice hit,” Alex teased him, extending his fist for a fist bump, which Harland barely acknowledged.
The brutish man started to stir and tried to get up once more.
“Aww crap,” Alex muttered. But then he saw Gaby jump on the man and cleave her twin swords into his head and chest. This time the body didn’t move; instead, black ichor started to flow from beneath it.
“Are you two ok?” Gaby asked, followed by Sam who had returned to them.
“I have had better days, to be honest,” Harland replied with a raspy voice, rubbing his neck. The air was slowly returning to his lungs.
“Why did you stop?” Sam asked them.
“Someone sent its pet after us.” Alex pointed to the dead body.
“A ghoul,” Sam examined the body. “I guess they brought them here in case they found more opposition than expected.”
“That explains what we saw in the way towards the landing deck,” Gaby added, pointing towards the corridor.
A few moments later, peeking through one of the shattered doors, Alex and Harland noticed the increasing number of ghouls barring them from reaching the landing deck where Sid was supposed to pick them up.
“Now that is a lot of ghouls,” Alex said to Gaby and Sam.
“I can go into the Ice State again,” Gaby offered.
“Hell no!
I wouldn’t risk it. I know I’m not the best fighter around and that’s why you chose to deal with the troopers. But I can take on the ghouls. I can properly test the bow.”
“Fine. But if they bite you, don’t come crying to me,” Gaby exclaimed.
“C’mon, this will be fun!” Alex said with a wide grin.
“I hardly see how dealing with ghouls will be fun,” Harland said.
“It’s like a video game. I don’t have to worry about killing them,” Alex explained with a grin. “Seeing as they are dead already.”
“You need to lay off the bad jokes, seriously,” Sam crossed her arms in front of her, with a scowl in her face. “This is not funny at all.”
“Follow me.” Alex kicked the door and shot a ghoul right in the middle of the eyes, taking him down. Alex shot down more and more ghouls, which moved faster than he expected for being dead bodies. Although he was smiling, his eyes were focused on taking down any incoming ghouls, whether from the sides, the balconies or from the front.
“He loves shooting galleries and haunted houses. This is a theme park ride for him,” Gaby explained to Sam and Harland. The three of them followed Alex. “But just in case, Sam, what do you think if we take down any strays that he missed?”
“Fine by me.” Sam cracked her knuckles. “Part of the job.”
Gaby pierced their hearts or cut off their heads with her twin swords, and she could feel the temperature increasing thanks to the heated plasma fireballs that Sam was casting at her side. They made a good team.
“Are you always like this?” Sam asked Alex, after blasting the face of one of the ghouls.
“Best way to keep my stress levels down,” Alex explained while shooting two ghouls in the head with one arrow.
“Trust me, the alternative is worse,” Gaby kicked the head she just cut off like a ball.
“What? More lame jokes?” Harland asked.
“Worse! Constant nagging and complaining,” Gaby replied with a sigh.
“I’m not that bad!” Alex complained while releasing three arrows in succession, taking down three ghouls to his left.
They reached the landing pad, but the Figaro was nowhere to be seen. However, the hordes of ghouls keep coming in waves. Alex kept shooting at a steady pace, but he could feel the soreness in his shoulder blades. By his account, there were more ghouls than he had arrows in his cartridges. I should have asked Andrea for larger cartridges.
“There are too many,” Gaby rested her arms on her knees, with a heavy breath.
“Not for long,” Sam replied, casting a different fireball. Instead of the usual red-orange one, this was a blue sphere. Sam let it go and it moved slowly, drawing power from the walls of the school until it was right in the middle of the hall that led to the landing pad. The sphere stood there, floating over the heads of the ghouls who stopped to stare at it.
A roaring of engines was heard then. The Figaro approached the pad slowly, opening its cargo bay. Gaby helped Harland get inside, while Alex gave cover with the last of his arrows.
“I’m ready if you are,” Alex told Sam.
“Jump now!” Sam yelled as they both jumped into the open cargo bay.
Once inside, Sam snapped her fingers. The blue fireball exploded in a flash of light, the heatwave incinerating any creature still standing, and with them, half of the landing pad. Gaby looked at Sam, surprised.
“Wasn’t that overkill? And won’t you get into trouble for damaging the pad?” Gaby asked.
“It saves time. And we can always pin it on the ghouls and a gas line,” Sam replied, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s a school for magick practitioners. These things happen more often than you think.”
“I’m glad I wasn’t landing just then,” Sid said through the comms.
“Your horrible voice is a relief for tired arms,” Alex replied.
“Yeah, yeah, you can kiss me later. We need to go or we will be goners,” Sid said, and the Figaro rocked, throwing Alex, Gaby, and Sam to the floor.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Sid yelled frantically while maneuvering the Figaro to dodge the aerial fire that the dreadnought was shooting at the smaller ship. Alex, Sam, Gaby, and Harland reached the cockpit. Alex saw Sid sweating; moisture covered his brow and scalp. “Who told hoomans to build that thing with railguns? Your whole species is crazy!”
“We need to go back for my dad,” Sam pointed out. She was biting her lips and Alex hugged her, startling her.
“We need to get out of here, honey,” Sid replied.
“She’s right,” Alex insisted.
“You are crazy,” Sid pulled the yoke to his left. “We are in an enclosed space and dealing with a ship that has more firepower than us.”
“Sam is right,” Gaby insisted. “Fionn needs our help.”
“Not you too,” Sid replied, annoyed. “I expect that from him and his hero complex, but not from you, sweetie. I barely made it out the first time.”
“Fionn is trying to keep the attackers busy while the students, many of them children, are escaping. Do you remember doing the same ten years ago? The least we could do is help him escape as well. We don’t leave behind one of our own, you taught us that,” Gaby muttered into Sid’s ear. Alex mouthed ‘low blow’ to her.
“I really hate it when you do that,” Sid replied, turning the Figaro around.
The front screen window flooded with a blue light as the shockwaves of an explosion shook both ships. By the time their vision recovered and the screen filtered the excess of light, the sight of what had happened filled them with dread. Half of Ravenstone had been blown up; most of the walls were crumbling, leaving open a whole side of the ancient building, while its superior spires fell into the canyon below. The totems that guarded the place were blasted to pieces. Fires peppered all levels, but especially in the gardens. Smaller, colorful explosions went off every other second, as the dangerous liquids of the alchemy labs mixed. On the floor, charred corpses of troopers and guards were moving like puppets following the Tovainar, which stood in the middle of the mayhem as if nothing had happened. Next to a burning door, Fionn was trying to get up but seemed dazed by the explosion.
“Get up. Get up. Please get up,” Sam said, while Alex extended his bow once more and walked towards the rear of the ship.
“Where are you going?” Harland asked him.
“To the cargo bay. Open the hatch, we need to get him out of there.”
† † †
Fionn had been blown through the doors of the burning school onto the cold, hard floor. A metallic taste invaded his mouth. He could feel his nose was broken and pouring blood. He clutched his chest. He felt a couple of broken ribs and suspected that his breastbone had fractured as well. Crashing through the thick door, even if it was made of wood, left him with more bruises and cuts that he cared to count. Then he realized how bad things were: His ability to heal wasn’t working at all.
Fionn felt a cold shiver run down his spine
The last time something similar took place, it required the combined efforts of what was left of the Twelve Swords, the magick powers of his wife, and considerable luck just to stop the same monster facing him now. And it had barely worked.
Fionn’s head was ringing, which left him unable to focus properly.
His worst nightmare was being replayed all over again: those he held dear betrayed and killed by an unstoppable monster.
Fionn felt a knot in the bottom of his stomach. His instinct screamed at him that his initial fears were true, that he might be back. And yet, he hopped that his instincts were wrong. No matter what, he needed to get everybody out of there fast.
All around him was a cacophony of noises and screams, blurred images of people fighting for their lives and dying all around him. He didn’t know where the rest were, but at the moment his main concern was to stand up and find Black Fang. Fionn
kept falling, still disoriented, when he noticed the silence around him. That could only mean that the Tovainar was right behind him. The knot in the bottom of his stomach grew; his heart raced so fast that it made his broken ribs and sternum hurt more. His skin crawled with goosebumps. He wanted to be somewhere else.
The Tovainar didn’t waste time. It started to attack, trying to impale Fionn on its sword. Fionn could only roll and dodge the attacks, barely avoiding being hit. Fionn kicked the Tovainar in the knee, making it lose its footing and earning a few precious seconds to get away. The tenuous dust cloud around the battlefield made it difficult to pinpoint Black Fang’s location. He tried to focus, using the Gift’s sight to find his sword. He saw a familiar green glow to his left. The sword was ‘talking’ to him. He got up, still dazed and ran towards Black Fang.
The green glow was there, Black Fang was within his grasp. Fionn grabbed Black Fang just in time. The Tovainar’s sword hit the ground hard where Fionn had been lying, its sword firmly stuck into the ground. Fionn jumped to his left side. He used the few precious seconds that the Tovainar took to unstick his sword to catch his breath. Once the sword was out, the creature spun on its heels to hit Fionn in the chest, a hit that if landed, would crush his chest and heart at once. Fionn raised his sword to parry the blow.
Both blades hit in an explosion of green light. Black Fang took the impact perfectly, whereas other weapons had disintegrated from a mere touch of the Tovainar’s sword. As Black Fang glowed a bright green light, Fionn pushed the other sword away. The Tovainar attempted a couple of quick slashes with the edge of its blade, but Fionn expertly parried them, gaining some confidence. Fionn swung his sword to cut off the Tovainar’s head. Then a brief silence surrounded him as if time had stopped. A sense of dread ran down his spine. And then the laugh came again.
The Withered King Page 15