Ikoria

by Wizards of the Coast

  A dozen monsters went down in the first volley. A crackling electric hawk was snatched out of the sky by a ballista bolt, falling into the First Ring and crushing a factory building to rubble. A web-winged dinosaur dove directly at the bastion, screeching defiance, and was met by a rising cloud of crossbow bolts that left it looking like a pincushion. Its torn wings failed it, and the thing crashed into the stone face of the wall and slid down in a smear of blood.

  Farther overhead, other monsters tried to soar above the range of the ballistae, hoping to descend on the city once they were over the wall. Soon enough, however, the second line of defense came into play, and crackling energy wreathed the green crystal towers that dotted the Drannith skyline. The Coppercoats’ Arcane Corps, working in teams of a dozen mages, channeled spells through the great green crystals, sending bolts of lightning and blasts of fire tearing into the monsters. More creatures fell, shrieking as they burned or were torn to pieces.

  The larger, sturdier monsters had more luck. The nightmare-whale, black and encrusted with strange growths, drifted slowly into range of the wall. It had one ballista bolt sticking out of it already, and as Jirina watched, another one caught it in the underbelly, but it didn’t seem to notice the projectiles. Crossbow bolts rose to meet it, mostly falling short, while it unfolded vast tentacles that hung down in great ropy strands. Soldiers scrambled out of the way as they reached for the wall. One unfortunate didn’t get clear, and the tendril wrapped around his ankle, pulling him screaming into the air. The whale-thing opened up a wide, toothy maw and tossed the soldier inside like he was a grape.

  Vivien stepped up on the battlement and loosed three arrows in quick succession, the shafts somehow rising farther and faster than even a crossbow bolt. Green energy bloomed all around them, coalescing into three enormous birds. All three had sharp beaks and long, curving claws, and they swooped toward the nightmare whale, harassing it like dogs trying to drive off a bear, tearing great chunks from its side with each pass. Black blood fell in great drops, watering the ground below.

  By this point, the slower monsters on the ground were getting into range. The turtle was still coming, a whole battalion of smaller monsters hooting and roaring on its upper peak like soldiers riding a living siege tower. The boar surged ahead of it, head lowered, charging the wall as though it meant to break through. Jirina grabbed the battlement for support as it impacted, the blow hard enough to shake the stone bastion. The thing backed off, shaking itself, but before it could line up another charge it was hit by three ballista bolts in quick succession. It reared, madly, and charged off, ripping up a great swath of the inner ring.

  More ballista bolts were aimed at the multi-legged nightmare, but they were having less effect, glancing off its overlapping scales. It reached the wall and started to simply climb it vertically, sticky-footed as a fly. Jirina barked an order, and squads of Coppercoats rushed to meet it, armed with long spears and slashing greatswords. Men and women were pulled off the wall by its flailing tendrils, falling screaming to their doom, but the soldiers determinedly chopped their way into the thing’s head, cracking and shredding its armor until it fell backward, legs waving wildly in the air.

  “Back to the battlements!” Jirina said. “Here they come!”

  The turtle had reached the walls. Ballista bolts had as much effect on it as toothpicks, ricocheting wildly off its rock-lined shell. The creature itself was almost docile, too slow to offer much threat, but its craggy upper slope came within yards of the battlements. That was enough for the monsters riding it, who jumped over en masse, swarming up and over the stones and across the bastion roof.

  There were dozens of them: cats with green fur and spreading leaves for manes; quick, darting nightmare scorpions; dinosaurs with claws like sickles; and snorting, ape-like beasts. They tore into the defenders, who came forward to meet them, matching steel against tooth and scale. Jirina saw an ape-thing go down, whimpering, with a dozen swords through it, watched a woman scream as a dinosaur ripped her open in a spray of gore, then got skewered itself by a thrown spear. Vivien danced through the melee, a great green wolf at her side, her arrows finding eyes and throats as the translucent creature bit and tore.

  Then a monster reared up in front of her, a shrieking rat-tailed thing as big as a horse, and there was no time for watching the battle as a whole. Jirina drew her sword, jumped back out of the way of the creature’s swiping claws, and carved a bloody notch in its dripping nose. It chittered madly, pushing forward, and Jirina gave ground, until a Citadel Guard with a greatsword rushed it from the side. The woman slammed her weapon into the monster’s flank, where it stuck, then had to duck as the thing turned and tried to tear her throat out. With it distracted, Jirina darted in, shoving her sword through its eye and into its brain. It spasmed, then collapsed, twitching. Jirina whipped the blood off her sword, panting.

  “Jirina!” Brin’s voice, from behind her. Jirina turned, saw the girl grimly slinging stone after stone into the advancing monsters. “Message from Barrow!”

  The Coppercoats were moving forward, pushing the tide of monsters back to the battlements. Jirina shoved backward, sheathing her sword, and ran to Brin’s side. The girl was damp with sweat and had a bloody cut on the side of her head, but she seemed overwise uninjured.

  “What’s happening?” Jirina said.

  “Monsters are getting through,” Brin said. “Barrow and Zeph stopped a few, but there are more everywhere. Some of the flyers, some that came up from the ground. He says they’re tearing apart the buildings and people are running away.”

  Damn, damn, damn. She’d always known they wouldn’t be able to stop everything.

  “He wants to send the bonders out to hunt them down,” Brin went on.

  “No!” Jirina said. “We need them if we’re going to have any chance to end this.” She turned, looking back at the battle. “Have him get the bonders together by the gate. It’s almost time.”

  The rush of small monsters from the turtle’s back had pressed the defenders hard, but Jirina had concentrated the Coppercoats’ best forces at the bastion, and their training and experience had made the difference. Dead and dying monsters littered the roof, but the ballistae were still firing, and crossbow bolts snapped out in every direction. Here, at least, they were holding.

  The same couldn’t be said for the situation further down the wall. Lukka’s strategy had been simple but effective. Finding the main gate held too strongly, he’d spread his army out, using his numbers to probe the defenses for a weak spot. Monsters had hit the wall in a dozen places, larger ones helping their smaller brethren get up to the battlements, cooperating in a way Drannith’s architects had never imagined. The result was that the defenses were being overrun, monsters cutting through the outmatched Coppercoats and jumping down the inside of the wall to raise havoc in the city.

  As I expected. People were dying everywhere—soldiers on the wall, civilians in the streets. Because of the orders I gave. Jirina took a deep breath. Let’s hope it’s worth it.

  She went to the battlement, putting her spyglass to her eye. She’d caught a glimpse of Lukka earlier, high atop the turtle’s back. He was still there, on his feet now, his eyes glowing a fierce orange as he channeled the Ozolith’s power.

  “Brin!” Jirina shouted. “I’m going. Tell Barrow!”

  “Got it!” the girl shouted back. “Be careful!”

  “I will cover you,” Vivien said. “Good luck.”

  “I’m going to need it,” Jirina muttered. She checked her sword in its scabbard, clambered up onto the battlement, and gauged the distance to the swaying, rocky back of the turtle. Then she closed her eyes and jumped.

  ***

  It was only a few yards over and down, but it felt like she spent an eternity hanging in the air. When she struck the rock, it was hard enough to knock the breath out of her and scrape the skin from her palms. She scrambled to her feet, wobbl
ing as the great turtle shifted underneath her.

  A few monsters remained on the rocky mountaintop, but they were all dead or dying, riddled with crossbow bolts. Further ahead, sheltered from the defender’s fire by a rocky outcrop, Lukka stared at nothing, his eyes aglow with orange light. Jirina started toward him, picking her way carefully through the rocks. When she was close enough for a rush, she drew her sword.

  He turned, blinking, and his eyes went wide. His cheek was scabbed over where her dagger had cut it.

  “Jirina,” he breathed.

  “Hello, Lukka,” she said.

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “I nearly was,” she said, shifting as the turtle moved.

  “You’re still trying to kill me?” He gave her a wan smile.

  “Did you seriously think anyone was going to just let you into the city? After…after what you did to my father?”

  “No,” Lukka said frankly. “I understand, now. Your father was a stubborn old man, but Drannith is full of stubborn old men. The only way I’m going to get my home back is to take it.” He clenched his fist. “The people will submit, or they’ll die. We’ll build a new Drannith on the ashes of whoever tries to stop us.”

  “You really are insane,” Jirina said.

  “I’m not.” He gave her a sad look, and for a moment he seemed so much like that old Lukka that her heart flopped in her chest. “All I wanted was to come home, Jirina. But this is the only way, now.”

  “We’ll never submit.” She leveled her sword. “This is the end, Lukka.”

  “We’ll see.” Lukka smiled, that old cocky grin.

  Jirina rushed him. He didn’t make a move toward his hooked blade, just stood with one hand on the rocks, waiting. At the last moment, as she went into her lunge, the ground shifted under her feet. The turtle, responding to Lukka’s will, leaned over, sending her stumbling into a stone outcropping. Her sword was torn from her hand and clattered away. Lukka laughed.

  “Did you forget where you were standing?” As the turtle straightened, he drew his blade and stalked toward her. “First thing we teach in the Specials: ‘Always be certain of your footing.’ ”

  Jirina scrabbled backward, panting, searching for a weapon. There was nothing but bare rock, and she was rapidly running out of that, Lukka cornering her at the edge of the turtle’s mountainous back. She looked over her shoulder and saw only empty air, and the ground far below.

  “Surrender,” Lukka said. “You know me, Jirina. I’ll be merciful.”

  There was a flash of pink on the ground, far below. Jirina swallowed, and then for the second time in a few minutes, she hurled herself over the edge.

  This time it was longer than a few yards, and she didn’t close her eyes. The turtle’s back blurred, the ground growing closer with terrifying speed, and only at the last moment was there a blur beneath her—

  She hit something as soft as yielding as a marshmallow. Rol gave a mrp of protest, deflating like a punctured balloon, leaving Jirina smothered in pink fuzz. She fought her way free and rolled off, the pink raccoon settling beside her.

  “Brilliant plan,” Lukka said, from high above. “Except for the part where you’re now outside the walls. What now, Jirina?”

  Monsters were approaching from every direction. A nightmare with eight legs and no eyes flowed across the ground beside a beast like a fox with long curlicue teeth. A dinosaur with a horn-rimmed head chuffed and lowered its nose, preparing to charge. Beside them, the turtle shifted around, opening a vast, razor-edged beak.

  A flapping, bat-like thing took hold of Lukka with its claws and lifted him gently, spiraling downward to deposit him on the dirt in front of Jirina and Rol. He spread his arms at the monsters that had them surrounded.

  “Well?” he said. “What now?”

  There was a deep creaking sound as the main gate opened. Jirina pressed herself against Rol, not wanting to get trampled in the rush.

  Zeph was the first one out, with Barrow riding around his neck, electricity crackling around two sets of horns. The huge white cat grabbed the nightmare in its jaws, killed it with a quick shake, and tossed the body away with a derisive snort. The winged boar and the walking tree followed, and all the other bonded monsters, with their bonders riding on their backs or following close behind. Brin jumped down from Zeph’s back and threw herself against Rol’s side, and the pink raccoon gave a happy mrp.

  Lukka’s monsters fought back with vicious fury, but he had spread his army thin. Still, the rock turtle was still by his side, dwarfing even Zeph, and at a gesture it turned from the wall and lumbered forward. Its vast beak came down, grabbing the walking tree and tearing away a huge chunk of its wooden hide. The other bonder monsters scattered as it came on, but Jirina held her ground. Lukka’s face was a mass of triumphant rage.

  An arrow flashed down from the battlements, sticking in the ground as it quivered to a halt. Green energy poured off of it, gathering into a shape larger than any Jirina had seen Vivien unleash before. It came into existence from the ground up, two huge, powerful legs, a long body and lashing tail like a dinosaur but thick with multicolored feathers, a head that seemed to be mostly jaw and teeth. It was huge, nearly as big as the turtle. With a rumbling cry, the monstrosaur charged forward, slamming into the giant elemental, biting into the stone-tough flesh of its neck. The turtle wobbled, trying to get its beak around its opponent, its wild swaying tossing the corpses of smaller monsters from its heights.

  The bonders and their monsters came forward again, surrounding Lukka while the dinosaur grappled with the turtle. He looked around wildly, and it was Jirina’s turn to grin.

  “It’s over, Lukka,” Jirina said, stepping forward. “You know me. Surrender, and I’ll be merciful.”

  ***

  Lukka stared at Jirina and felt his rage rising. He pressed his knuckles against the hilt of his sword, rubbing them until they went white.

  No. He’d come too far, sacrificed too much. I won’t let her stop me, not now. All he’d wanted was to come home, but she and her gods-cursed father hadn’t let him. At every step, she’d stood in his way. Why? He searched her face, still achingly beautiful even covered in the gore and grime of battle. What did I ever do wrong?

  He cast about for a solution, a way out. Think. He could feel his monsters, but none were close, except for the damned useless turtle. None could reach him before Zeph and the others tore him to pieces.

  But the energy of the Ozolith still pulsed inside him. And there are monsters here, after all. The bonders thought they could control their bonded creatures, but their power was nothing beside what he could draw on. I will have them. He spread his hands, eyes glowing with orange light. I will have them all.

  “Excuse me.” The voice at the back of his mind was the one from the Ozolith, the one who’d offered him this power. “I can’t help but notice that the flow of energy through the crystal is getting a little out of hand.”

  “Shut up,” Lukka muttered. He unleashed his will, power fountaining in all directions, and the bonded monsters visibly flinched away. Zeph tried to come toward him, hunched over as though pushing into a storm. Lukka drew more power and let it flow through him, shoving the great white cat to his knees.

  “I really must ask you to think again,” the voice said. “The consequences–”

  “Shut. Up.”

  Lukka’s power was pressing into the minds of the bonded monsters—he could feel it—but they were pushing back. Driven by their love for their masters, they were fighting him in a way the wild monsters never had. Lukka grit his teeth and drew more power, then still more, smothering the monsters’ will in a tide of orange energy.

  It was working. Zeph turned, very slowly, to look at Jirina. The cat’s lip curled back, baring his fangs.

  You will not stop me now.

  “Lukka!” Jirina’s voice was a distant scream
.

  Something flickered. Lukka looked over his shoulder and saw an orange spike of power. Far to the north, the Ozolith was screaming, energy coursing through it in unmanageable torrents, blasting into the sky in a pillar of incorporeal fire visible from the walls of Drannith. Lukka could feel the strain on the ancient crystal formation, feel the tiny pops as, one by one, the smaller crystals that surrounded the central spire cracked and shattered under the load.

  “Well,” the voice said. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  The Ozolith exploded.

  A ring of orange light formed, blasting outward across the plains at the great crystal blew apart. Lukka’s power surged through his mind, whipsawing wildly, like a taut rope finally tearing free. Every monster in the circle shrieked or roared in pain, but these were only reflections of Lukka’s own agony. He felt like his body was on fire, inside and out, fire inside his eyes and flowing through his veins.

  I’m sorry, Jirina. He felt himself screaming. I just wanted to go home…

  Deep inside his soul, something shifted, awakened by pain and blazing magic. A moment later, Lukka was gone, and the fabric of the plane folded itself neatly over the space where he had been.

  ***

  A week had passed, and somehow the sight of monsters in the marketplace had come to seem almost normal.

  The citizens of Drannith were an impressive bunch, Vivien had to admit. They’d begun rebuilding practically as soon as the monster corpses had been cleared away. Debris had been hauled off, broken buildings surrounded by scaffolds, new cobblestones laid, even gardens and lawns leveled and replanted. It was something the city had a lot of practice with, she supposed.

  That was less true of the monsters. After some hasty consultation with military authorities, Jirina had decreed that bonders and their monsters were not permitted inside the city proper but would be welcomed in the First Ring. This was partly a matter of practicality, since the larger monsters had difficulty maneuvering in the tight streets without damaging things, but mostly it was to keep incidents to a minimum. Vivien watched the crowds around the market, half-fearful, half-curious, keeping a good distance from where Zeph and Rol sat among some of the other bonders. Brin was bounding from stall to stall, delighted at the variety of goods on offer, while Barrow followed at a more dignified pace.