Ikoria

by Wizards of the Coast

  “Fascinating,” Vivien said, coming forward. “May I examine him?”

  “Sure,” Brin said. “Rol, don’t eat the nice lady.” At the sight of Lukka’s expression, she laughed. “That’s a joke. Rol doesn’t eat people. He always spits out the bits—they upset his digestion.”

  Lukka fought for patience. He’d never been good with children. “Can you explain,” he said slowly, “what you meant when you said that you called my…my monster here?”

  “Sure,” Brin said. “The monsters can talk to each other through the crystals, right? They connect to each other, like a web. So I’m having a nap when Rol wakes me up and says, hey, there’s a monster I’ve never seen before flying north, and she says she’s taking her human up to the Ozolith. And I think, hmm, I really ought to talk to him first, because I’ve been trying to get to the Ozolith but it’s guarded by a bunch of nasty things with teeth, and so this poor guy doesn’t know what he’s getting into–”

  “Please slow down,” Lukka said.

  “Does your monster actually speak?” Vivien said, looking up from where she was toying with Rol’s poofy pink tail.

  “He doesn’t speak, but we mostly understand each other. I’m, you know, paraphrasing.” Brin looked back to Lukka. “Want me to start over? What’d you miss?”

  Lukka, who had more or less caught up by now, said, “Why are you trying to get to the Ozolith?”

  “Something weird is going on there,” Brin said. Her cheerful smile faded. “Something bad. It makes the monsters crazy. Rol hasn’t felt anything like it before.”

  “Our objectives are the same, then,” Vivien said. “But you said you’ve been unable to reach it?”

  “Last time me and old Spikyhead went together,” Brin said. “But there’s these…things, all black and with too many eyes.”

  “Nightmares,” Lukka said.

  “Yeah. And they wait near the Ozolith and come after anyone who gets near it. Spiky’s monster is a good fighter, but we still had to run for it.” She threw her arms around the raccoon’s neck. “Rol was kicking their butts, but I didn’t want him to get hurt.”

  “I’m sure,” Lukka said, eyeing the pink puffball.

  “You can talk to…others, through the crystals?” Vivien said. “Others like yourself, with bonded monsters.”

  “Yeah!” Brin said. “There’s more and more of us lately. When I first found Rol, it was just a couple, but now there’s Spiky and Vheen and–”

  “We have to get to the Ozolith,” Lukka said. “If we can get there, we can find out what in the name of all the gods is going on.” And maybe that will be enough to get General Kudro to let me come home. The thought of his city, of Jirina’s eyes in that last moment before they’d flown off, made his throat go thick.

  “Perhaps if we work together, we can overcome the guardians,” Vivien said.

  “Weeeeeell,” Brin said uncertainly. “I dunno. She would be a help”—she nodded at the winged cat—“but what about you?”

  “I may not have a monster,” Vivien said with a slight smile, “but I believe I can contribute. And Lukka is right. It is imperative that we reach the Ozolith.”

  “Hmmm,” Brin said, closing her eyes in thought. “Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” She opened them again and put on a huge grin. “Okay! Let’s try it. I’ll call whoever’s around to meet up with us. I warn you, though, Spiky’s sort of grumpy. Kind of like Lukka, actually.”

  “Perhaps they’ll get along,” Vivien said.

  “Somehow I doubt it,” Lukka muttered.

  ***

  Mzed had been right about one thing. Vermilion was fast.

  The vessel was long and narrow, nothing like Tef’s bumbling balloon. It sliced through the sky like a knife, leaving wisps of shredded cloud in its wake. The spinning fans that drove it gave off a continuous drone, and the huge fins and rudders that shaped the wind to keep the ship pointed in the right direction creaked and groaned continuously as they shifted against their ropes. Below—far, far below—the plain unfolded in all directions, broken by rocky hills and scattered copses of trees.

  There were about twenty sailors on the ship, all told, and once Falk had given the order to cast off they’d been rushing across the deck in groups, hauling on one line or tying off another to the directions of a large, foul-mouthed woman who seemed to be in charge. Falk himself just looked on, occasionally muttering to the man at the ship’s wheel. He held a small glass prism in one hand, and now and then he looked through it toward the horizon.

  “It’s a tracker, my lady,” he said, when Jirina asked him about it. “Mzed gave me some blood from the beast that we’re after, and this thing will let us follow it without fail. Fearfully expensive, but worth every copper out in here in the wilds.”

  She must have cut it during the fight in the woods and thought to save the blood. For all her gang’s disreputable appearance, Mzed certainly knew her business. Jirina looked at Falk—he was barely her height, though the hat added nearly a foot—and sighed.

  “I’m glad you’ve got a way to find the thing. But, please, it’s not ‘my lady’. I’m Captain Jirina.”

  “So you said! But while captain is a lordly rank up here in the sky, signifying as it does command of one’s own vessel, I understand in your Coppercoats it is a somewhat lowly position. Not at all suited to the daughter of the great General Kudro, never mind a beauty like yourself.”

  “My father wanted me to gain my rank on merit,” Jirina said. “I agreed with him.”

  That wasn’t the whole story. Kudro had actually opposed her entering the Coppercoats at all. It’s bound to cause rumors, no matter what we do, he’d said. You can find some other way of serving Drannith. But she’d been stubborn, then as now.

  “Of course. Mighty Drannith, where all are equal before the law, all laboring nobly in the common cause.”

  “You sound skeptical.”

  “Of course not!” Falk bowed. “There would just be no place for me in such a…lawful city. The skies suit me much better. Here I may go as I wish and answer to no one save the wind and the gods.”

  And have no one to help you, when the monsters come. Though it would take a swift monster indeed to keep up with Vermilion, she had to admit.

  “Captain!” one of the sailors shouted. “Weather ahead!”

  Falk turned to look at the horizon and frowned. A mass of dark clouds lay directly in their path, like a bruise spreading across the sky.

  “Ugly,” Falk muttered, looking down at his blood-tracker.

  “Can we go around it?” Jirina said.

  “Not without losing more time than you say we can afford.” Falk tucked the tracker in his pocket. “Besides, we’re getting further north. Weather’s going to be worse from here on out.” He raised his voice. “Pull in the spars and batten down! We’re going to run the storm.”

  The sailors jumped to a new frenzy of activity, pulling in some of the big fins and tying off everything they could. Jirina looked around for the hunters, but Mzed and the others had retreated to their cabins below, where they could drink and bicker in peace. She knew she ought to join them, but she found herself lingering on the deck, watching as the dark clouds spread wider and wider, like a black flower opening to accept them into its depths.

  The first bolt of lightning, crackling from one cloud to another, was followed a few seconds later by a crack like a tree snapping in half. Another sounded from the other side of the ship, and another, until the roar and boom of thunder was continuous. Falk had taken a position on the raised aft deck, near where the helmsman grappled with the wheel. Jirina pressed herself against a bulkhead and flinched as a spray of cold rain lashed Vermilion‘s deck. The wind snatched at her, its howl filling the gaps in the constant bombardment of thunder.

  “This is a rough one, Captain!” one of the sailors said, shouting to be heard over the deluge. “If we sh
ift course–”

  “Straight through!” Falk shouted back. “If we let the wind take us now, no telling where we’ll end up. Vermilion will take it!”

  Lightning crashed, startlingly close, the flash and the bang simultaneous. Jirina blinked against purple afterimages that crawled across her eyes like living things, and it took her a moment to realize that there was something moving on the deck, something that wasn’t a sailor or a flapping line. She shouted a warning, moments before the screams began.

  The monster was elemental-clade, bird-like, but only in its vaguest outline. Its wings were skeletal, but in place of feathers it had crackling lines of lightning, sketching in the edges of muscles and feathers. A raptor’s long, curved beak ended in a vicious point, and the creature surveyed the deck with huge, owl-like eyes, glowing blue-white with electrical power. An unfortunate sailor was trapped under its taloned foot, screaming as one long nail raked a bloody line down his chest.

  Jirina drew her sword, trying to run against the wind but managing only a quick stagger. She was surprised to find Falk at her side, a cutlass in one hand, shouting instructions to his panicking crew.

  “Keep the helm steady! Someone go and fetch the bloody hunters, this is what they’re here for!”

  Mzed and the others wouldn’t make it up to the deck in time to save the screaming crewman, though. Jirina squared her shoulders and dashed forward, escaping the wind as she came into the lee of the monster. The bird-thing turned its glowing eyes on her and opened its beak to let out a squawk that rumbled with the sound of thunder.

  Jirina lunged at the thing with her sword, but she didn’t have the reach. Its beak swept down, and she hurriedly threw herself back, skidding on the wet deck. She was soaked to the skin, her uniform hanging heavy, crystals alive with reflected light. The trapped sailor screamed again.

  “My lady!” Falk said. “Draw it here!”

  She looked around wildly and finally spotted him, huddled beside the forward ballista. There was a bolt loaded and ready, but the weapon was too heavy for Falk to rotate by himself. Jirina grit her teeth and lunged at the bird again, drawing another slash of its beak that nearly took her head off. When she scrambled away, it didn’t seem inclined to follow.

  “I’m here, damn it,” she shouted at the thing. “Come and get me!”

  It didn’t answer. Jirina paused a moment, then reversed grip on her sword. She threw the weapon overhand, like a lance. It struck the monster in the chest and bounced away. She couldn’t see whether it had done any damage, but that wasn’t the point. The bird screech-rumbled again and came after her, finally stepping off the trapped sailor. Jirina gave ground, shouting abuse at the monster. Three more steps. Two…

  “Get down!” Falk shouted.

  Jirina threw herself flat as he hit the firing lever. The ballista released its bolt with a metallic crack. The long whorled shaft zipped over Jirina’s head and punched into the bird’s side. Lightning sprayed from the monster’s wound, like electric blood, playing wildly over the deck and wreathing everything in a weird nimbus of ghostly fire.

  If it had pressed the attack, they certainly would have died—Falk would never have had the chance to load another bolt. Fortunately, the monster had had enough. It spread its wings with another rumbling squawk and let the wind pull it off the deck, whirling up and into the storm until it was dwarfed by the constant blast of lightning. Jirina fell to her knees, then crawled forward to see to the man the monster had downed. He was already getting up, shirt torn and bloodied but apparently not seriously hurt.

  “My lady,” someone was saying beside her, and then, “Captain Jirina! Please, are you all right?”

  She looked up at Falk, who held one hand out to her, the other clamping his ridiculous hat to his head. Lightning flashed all around, rain blasted her face, and for some reason Jirina felt like laughing.

  ***

  After a brief break for food, water, and other necessities, Lukka and Vivien got back on board the winged cat, and it once again threw itself into the air.

  It? Or she? Lukka had never thought of monsters as having sexes, but he supposed ordinary cats did, so why not giant ones? She, then. He gripped the thick fur of her neck, feeling the play of huge muscles under her skin.

  Does she need a name? He supposed she didn’t require one. It’s not like there were a lot of other winged cats around to confuse her with. Still…

  Don’t be foolish. This creature, this monster, had been the one who slaughtered his squad. Other monsters just like her had killed who knew how many humans over the years. Just because she’s proving useful at the moment doesn’t mean she deserves your kindness.

  But if the Ozolith had somehow forced her to attack Drannith…

  So what? Attacking humans is what monsters do. Whatever magic this is just makes it happen faster.

  He looked back at Vivien, hoping for some relief from wrestling with his doubts, but she seemed lost in thought. Instead, he watched the ground, which sped by only a few dozen yards below. They were flying low, keeping pace with Brin and Roland. In spite of its pudgy appearance, the raccoon-thing covered ground at an excellent clip, bounding along with Brin holding on to its pink fur for dear life.

  According to the girl, they didn’t have far to go. Up ahead was a place where two rivers merged into one, creating a narrow spit of land that was a favored landmark and meeting place. Lukka could already see both of the rivers, winding across the land toward their inevitable rendezvous. Without prompting from him, the winged cat began to descend, flaring her wings as they glided toward a rocky promontory.

  Something was already waiting for them there. The afternoon light was starting to wane, but Lukka could make out the form of something big. It looked like an enormous wolf, or possibly something closer to a badger, with a low body and squat legs, brown fur shading to white on its belly. Two enormous tusks protruded from its lower jaw, and long black thorns covered its back and shoulders, marching down to its brow and cheeks.

  Spiky, I’m guessing. Certainly Brin didn’t seem surprised to see the thing. As they got closer, Lukka spotted a woman sitting on the rocks below the monster. She was dressed like Brin in leather and homespun, with a brown jacket and white shirt emulating her monster’s coloring, and with dark hair teased into spikes to match. A long spear with an odd double point sat beside her. At the sight of Brin, she waved, then returned her attention to Lukka and the winged cat.

  Brin jumped off of Rol at the base of the rocks, then stood well back as the winged cat came down, wingbeats whipping the grass wildly. Lukka slid off as his monster sat back on her haunches, staring up at the spiked badger in a way that wasn’t quite a direct challenge. Vivien hopped down behind him. The woman with the spiky hair got up, dusted herself off, and picked her way down the slope.

  “Spiky!” Brin said.

  “Hello, runt,” the woman said, gruff but friendly. “Who’s this you’ve brought us?” Her eyes narrowed. “A Drannith soldier? A bit far north for your lot, aren’t we?”

  “My name is Captain Lukka,” Lukka said. “I found myself…bonded to this monster, and my city decided I’m a traitor. I’m trying to find a way to prove them wrong.”

  The spiky-haired woman snorted. “You’re better off without them. Bonders are the future, soldier-boy. Not long before we’ll be running the world.”

  Lukka bristled but forced his tone calm. “I don’t care who runs the world. I just want to go home.”

  She regarded him for a moment, then nodded. “I suppose I can’t argue with that. I’m Abda. Please don’t call me Spiky. Only the runt gets away with that.”

  “I’m not a runt,” Brin said. “I’ll be taller than you soon!”

  That wasn’t true unless Brin suddenly shot up half a foot. Lukka smiled to himself. Before he could introduce Vivien, there was a crack and a flash of bright light, and someone else was standing with them.
Lukka dropped into a fighting crouch, hand going to his sword, but Brin and Abda seemed unbothered.

  “Hello, Barrow!” Brin said, and Rol also squeaked a greeting.

  “You can’t resist an entrance, can you?” Abda said.

  The newcomer was dressed in white furs layered over gray armor. He was a young man, with long white hair swept back from his forehead by a metal circlet, from which two upswept steel horns sprouted. Small arcs of lightning still played between them as he gave a solemn bow.

  “My apologies for being late,” he said. “I am Barrow. My partner is Zeph.”

  “Partner?” Lukka said, then caught sight of the enormous shape sitting on the other side of one of the rivers. The monster was clearly cat-clade, but twice the size of his own winged cat, big enough to swallow a human in one gulp. It had a wild mane of fine white hair, while the rest of its body was white with black tiger-stripes. Two massive, whorled horns to match Barrow’s headgear sprouted from its forehead, just above a pair of glowing yellow eyes, and leftover electricity crawled across these as well.

  “I suppose I didn’t introduce Rigi,” Abda said. “Say hello, Rigi.”

  The badger-thing gave an enormous bark that made the winged cat’s ears twitch. Lukka straightened up and let himself breathe out.

  “You have called us here,” Barrow said to Brin. “Did you mean only to introduce us to Lukka, or was there a further purpose?”

  “Lukka’s trying to get to the Ozolith,” Brin said. “He thinks there’s something wrong with it too.”

  “The nightmares won’t let anyone get near it,” Abda said. “Ugly bastards.”

  “Zeph has also felt a wrongness from the great crystal,” Barrow said. “But the risk of approaching it is too great, for uncertain reward.”

  “The Ozolith is goading the monsters into attacking Drannith,” Lukka said. “I felt its compulsion in the mind of my cat.”

  “So?” Abda said. “No offense, soldier-boy, but that doesn’t seem so bad to me.”

  “Of course it’s bad!” Brin said. “If the monsters go to Drannith they might get hurt!”