by Frank Morin
Nearby voices drew his attention, as did renewed scents of fear. He hadn't been alone, had he? His thoughts were muddy, his vision tinted purple, and when he focused on the form of a hulking man standing nearby, he saw more than the outer shell. He saw the blood pumping through the man's rock-hard form, calling to him.
He wanted to drink it.
The impulse overwhelmed a strange sense of hesitation and he leaped upon the man, beating his puny arms aside, and lifting him high with claws like steel bands. He opened his mouth that had become a maw, and somehow he knew he could crunch right through the stone hard skin to the hot blood beneath.
Then his mouth filled with earth and the ground buckled under his feet, sending him tumbling and breaking his hold. He landed in soft earth that clung to his limbs, trying to restrain him.
Connor laughed, a wicked gurgling growl and tore the earth with claws and fangs, leaping out of the trap. A woman stood nearby, her heartbeat surprisingly calm.
"You are more than this," she stated, but the words barely registered. They were clear, but did not make sense. All that mattered was that she stood between him and the feast.
He'd eat her first.
With a cry of animal fury, he leaped the distance between them, but a wall of earth rose to block him. As he tore at it with frenzied hunger, arms of hardened earth grasped at his limbs.
Then the big man he had almost eaten rounded the earthen wall, carrying a large tree trunk.
"Finally we have fighting!" the man laughed as he wound up a mighty swing and clubbed Connor over the head. The blow drove him into the softened earth like a chisel struck by a mighty hammer, then the ground hardened around him. Even his incredible strength failed to free him.
Connor howled with rage and snapped at the hated humans. The big man hit him with the tree again, so hard two teeth shattered.
"Enough," the woman said. "You're enjoying yourself a bit more than is appropriate, Erich."
"Is respect for enemy," he protested. "Spank with tree for much glory."
"Just stop," she said, then peered at Connor. "You can understand me, can't you?"
Connor snapped at her, but she remained out of reach. He wanted to rage at them, tear them to pieces, but the momentary lack of mobility finally gave that whisper-soft voice in his mind a chance to speak.
He stopped growling and the woman leaned closer. "Show me you understand."
Thinking was hard. Biting was easier, so he bit at her.
Then pain spiked through him and he threw his head back, screaming with it. The sound changed abruptly into a human cry and he felt his jaw retracting. Changing bones hurt. A lot.
His hands and feet shrank back to normal and his body convulsed. It felt like he was getting pounded by his father's hammer everywhere at once, and he clenched his eyes against the pain.
Then it disappeared and he lay gasping in the earthen prison, exhausted beyond reason. He felt empty, like a skeleton wrapped in skin, but lacking anything in between.
"Are you all right?" Ilse asked, dropping to a knee beside him. He knew her voice now.
"Ow," he groaned.
Erich lifted him to his feet. The big Rumbler peered closely at him. "Is Connor boy again?"
"Next time I hit you with the tree."
Erich laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, sending him sprawling. Anika lifted him again and gave him a hug. She kissed his cheek. "Was many brave. Good boy come back."
"Thanks." He tensed, waiting for her to hit him or something. It was so unlike Anika to act like a woman instead of a force of destruction.
When she released him, Ilse said, "So you were conscious the whole time?"
"Sort of. It was like a nightmare." He tried to explain how it felt, how hard it had been to think.
"You need practice," Ilse said. "If rampagers could assault a specific target, they must have developed control over the raw animal emotions that overwhelmed you."
"Makes sense."
"Good." She gave him an encouraging nod. "Then what are you waiting for? Try again."
"Now?"
"If you hadn't noticed, we don't have a lot of time," she said. "The howling might draw attention, although I don't sense anyone approaching yet. That little bit of powder kept you transformed for about four minutes. Try the same amount again."
It took a moment to gather his courage for the second attempt. He realized his teeth had re-formed when he returned to human form. That was encouraging enough that he took another handful of powder.
The second attempt went no better than the first. Ilse was ready for him, and he didn't even get a chance to try eating anyone. Erich was gracious enough to let Anika take turns beating him in the head with the tree trunk. They explained later that they were doing research into exactly how much effort it would take to defeat a real rampager, but they seemed far too eager to get him to transform again.
Dietmar offered them the use of his meteor hammer, but Anika urged him to join the beating instead. Margrit refused the offer to throw rocks, insisting she needed to keep watch.
Ilse kept speaking to him, urging control, reminding him who he was. It was really annoying when he was in the grip of the rampager madness. On his fourth attempt, she changed tactics.
"Think of Verena, boy. Remember her. Be strong or you could hurt her."
That name drove through the purple haze of madness and Connor quieted his wild thrashings in the earthen prison. Erich took the opportunity to hit him again with a tree, and his head rang so hard from the blow, he forgot where he was for a moment.
"Don't kill him," Ilse's voice floated into his rattled ears from a great distance. "I think he's finally getting the hang of it."
"Then I need turn," Anika exclaimed. "Before monster no monster."
Connor forced open one eye in time to see Anika swing the tree with far too much eagerness, grinning as she clobbered him into oblivion.
When he woke up, Connor had returned to human form and the group was gathered around him, looking worried.
"See," Anika laughed when Connor blinked open his eyes and groaned against a splitting headache. "Research many success. And boy is no die."
After a couple of minutes under the gentle warmth of his sandstone pendant, Connor almost felt human again. The transformation restored his bones and teeth, but why hadn't it purged his headache?
"I reached you last time, didn't I?" Ilse asked.
"I'm not sure. I got clobbered so much, the memory is all busted to pieces."
"One more try," Ilse urged, then glanced at the sibling Petralists. "No more hitting."
Anika looked crestfallen. Erich held up a single thick finger. "Hit only two times?"
"No," Ilse said. "You've done enough research. I need to know he can maintain control."
That fifth try was different. Despite the purple haze that descended over him, Connor maintained a shred of sanity by chanting Verena's name in his mind. The image of the deadly cute Builder was like a shield against the storm of rage.
Ilse did not imprison him, but the siblings flanked him, trees poised to strike.
"Are you in control?" Ilse asked.
Speaking was difficult. Connor tried to say, "What do you think?" The words got corrupted in his throat and came out as a long growl with mushed together syllables.
Ilse frowned. "I take it whabba-zoobing means yes in rampager."
He tried again, but Erich burst into laughter. "What is meaning monkey bottom soup? Is many funny."
Seeing the big man laughing at him triggered a burning rage that overwhelmed Connor's fledgling control. He shot across the distance and punched Erich so hard, the huge warrior tumbled through a stand of nearby trees. One of them slowly topped after and landed on him as he stood up, driving him off his feet again. Erich's shouted curses echoed around the clearing.
Connor turned back to the others, and the rush of satisfaction from pounding Erich helped him regain control. He silently laughed, long tongue lolling.
"
It did sound like that," Ilse said.
His powder ran out then, but he managed to remain standing as his body shifted back to human. It still hurt worse than pulling out all his teeth with a frozen fish, but he was learning to handle it.
"What happened?" Ilse asked.
"I had it," he said. "Emotions are raw and far more powerful. Erich's laughter triggered a violent rage. The vocals don't really work."
"We noticed," Anika smiled.
"Work on control," Ilse said. "But not unless we're nearby. You can't afford to rampage through the school."
"It hurt too much to try again soon." It was a thrilling sort of terror riding that ultimate edge of control.
"This secret must be shared, and we must be able to prove you can control it."
Connor had consumed much of his powder store. He'd have to manage the rest carefully.
"Patronage really is a lie," he said.
"I'd say we've proven it," Ilse said, crouching next to him. "There's nothing keeping you here at the school."
"There is," Connor said as a single thought became clear. "I'm not done here yet."
"You can leave," Ilse urged. "Study this with Kilian and the Builders. Our work is done here."
He shook his head. "Even if we could slip away from Evander, which I'm not convinced we can, he's running another geall that I need to see to the end."
"What's his plan?" Ilse asked.
"It's tied to deeper secrets and a broader conspiracy, I think. It was a bit cryptic."
"Tell me."
"Later," he said, not wanting to share everything with Ilse. He felt sure that the messages embedded in that Sentry speak had been intended for his ears alone. He glanced at the small team. "We can't just run. Don't you see? This lie has been imprisoning my people for decades. I need to find out who's in league with Dougal and figure out how to flip this geall back on them."
"You can't do that alone," Ilse said.
"No, I can't." He rose and gripped her shoulder. "I'm going to need your help."
"Well, let's not dawdle," Ilse said. "You should know, I've sensed the elements stirring on the mountain. We may not have much time."
Connor glanced around nervously. "You're speaking of elfonnel, aren't you?"
"I felt something I've never sensed before," she said, looking grave. "I don't want to be anywhere near here if the elements rise in anger."
"That makes it even more important to finish this."
"What are you planning?" Ilse asked, for once not arguing.
"Let's meet again after you report to Kilian."
"You need a better way to contact me," Ilse said. "I believe it's time I teach you to summon."
"Like that stone pedra?" That monster had nearly kidnapped Shona, and had been inspiring and terrifying at the same time.
She smiled. "Kilian did the bulk of the work on that one. No, we will start small, with squirrels or pigeons. I will teach you to form them, then you can send them to find me."
"Where? The mountain is a big place."
When she hesitated, he raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'm out here testing secret rampager powder. If I was going to betray you, I would've done it by now."
"Very well." Pointing east she said, "Follow that ridge away from the school. It'll empty onto a wide plateau that extends over a long canyon. In the center is a ruined fort. Send your summoned creature there."
"Okay. So how do I do it?"
"Granite gives them form, the elements provide the life blood, your will grants them life."
"That's why the pedra bled water?"
"Exactly. You can use any element, although some work better with certain animals. For example, the best birds are usually conjured using quartzite, whereas the best squirrels use earth."
Connor wanted to sleep for a year, but he was eager to learn the secret. "I'm not sure I can focus enough to make it work. Turning unclaimed isn't as easy as I make it look."
Ilse barked a laugh. "If that was easy, I'm glad I can't do it." Then she turned serious. "Focus, boy. Time is short. Enemies are closing around us, and the very elements of this mountain are stirring. Trust me, we don't have time to waste."
She needed to work on her motivational speeches.
Chapter 49
Connor's sleep was filled with dreams of turning unclaimed, of embracing that terrifying and exhilarating experience and rampaging through the school, eating screaming Petralists. He woke up feeling strangely satisfied.
Patronage really was a lie. That should have changed everything, but although that shackle was broken, Shona still maintained the threat against Jean, Ailsa, and his entire village. Somehow, he had to work out his escape and reveal to the world the truth about the unclaimed.
It would be easier to tame a pedra and teach it to herd sheep.
Tomas entered his suite as he was attempting to eat a mountainous breakfast. He wished, as he did at every meal, for Hamish's enthusiastic appetite to help with the feasts.
"Best take care to stay masked up, boy," Tomas said. "Too many spies around to keep them all out today."
"I thought you had a working schedule."
He shrugged. "Nobles are growing frantic, and they hate calling you General Anxiety."
"All part of the plan," Connor said, saluting with a thick slab of bacon.
Tomas clapped him on the shoulder, "Not to worry, lad. You're not the only one who can put on a good show." At Connor's questioning look he added, "We've been regaling the spies with some of your peculiarities."
Connor's heart sank. "Which ones?"
"Oh, nothing too wild." Tomas tapped the side of his nose and winked. "There's an art to a proper yarn. You've got to work them up to the really good stuff. Start too fast and they'll realize it's all made up."
"You really don't have to do that. . ." Connor began.
Tomas laughed. "Course we do. Helps explain needing to wear a mask too. We told them the condition's not contagious, but they probably don't want to see what it does to a man's face." He turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. "Any way you can limp a little on the left when you meet your army today?"
"Why?"
"It'd help everyone believe that leg is shorter."
"Why would my leg. . .?" He sighed. "I'll see what I can do."
"Knew I could count on you, lad."
When he opened the door, a woman was standing there, one hand raised to knock. She was quite a sight, with battle leathers highlighting a shapely figure, her face concealed by a white, leather mask. Her hair was an unnaturally bright red color, tied in a complex braid hanging over the front of her shoulder.
"Beg your pardon, ma'am," Tomas said with a little bow, "But no unauthorized visitors allowed."
The woman in the doorway didn't speak, but glanced past Tomas to Connor. As soon as he looked into those bright blue eyes he knew. How could Ilse take such a risk? Someone would surely recognize Anika, even with the dyed hair.
"Uh, she's with me," Connor said quickly.
Tomas glanced back at him, incredulous. "I think I'd remember seeing her."
"She's, uh, a new part of Shona's plan. Just arrived from Merkland." He blurted out the first idea that might explain her presence. "She's a mute daor."
"Imagine that," Tomas muttered, studying her again.
For her part, Anika did a remarkable job not entering the room and clobbering Connor senseless, but she didn't look happy. Tomas must have noticed the slight shifting in her stance or how her body flowed for a terrifying heartbeat into the perfect lines of granite. She recovered quickly and made a curt bow she probably considered humble.
"Why would you need a mute daor, and a masked one at that?" Tomas asked.
Connor shrugged. "When you figure out Lady Shona, explain her to me some time."
"Don't go there, lad," Tomas said with a grimace. "Any man who pretends to understand women is a lying fool. Look at Cameron."
"I'll call if I need anything," Connor said.
Tomas looked from him
to Anika. "You sure?"
"I'll send her out shortly."
Tomas shrugged. "As you wish." He waved Anika into the room and as he left, his voice carried back to Connor, "Brilliant. Why didn't we think of adding mutes?"
Anika closed the door and rounded on Connor. "I break you tiny head if you think make me slave."
"I'm sorry. It was the only idea I could think of."
"Bad think idea." She motioned him to one of the overstuffed chairs in the sitting room. "Come, we talk many fast. Make plan."
"What are you doing here?" he blurted as he cautiously settled into the chair close to her. He was amazed Tomas hadn't recognized her striking figure. The white mask and bright red hair lent her a mysterious air but at the same time added a new overtone of recklessness.
"You can't have heard from Kilian already," he said.
She shook her head. That color really was ghastly on her. "Need monster powder."
"I don't have a lot left."
"Will send some Kilian. Clever Builders make study."
That was a good idea. He should have thought of that. Verena could ferret out more about that powder in a week than he could in a year. He retrieved the little pouch of porphyry from the secret safe in his bedchamber and poured a small handful into another pouch.
"Would be many better you came too," she said as she accepted the pouch.
"I can't. There are things here that need sorting. I can't do that hiding in Granadure."
"Time is much short," she insisted. "Best defeat rampagers as team."
Working in tandem with Kilian and the Builders might accelerate their progress. Plus, he yearned to see Verena again and would love to catch up with Hamish.
"I'll think about it."
Could he trust Kilian? The man knew the deeper mysteries, but Connor had learned not to trust anyone's motives at face value. Then there was Camonica's story that he'd learned from Aonghus.
"Together, can make raid," Anika insisted, her eyes glowing with eagerness. "Make Dougal pay for evil and stop war."
"When you send your note to Kilian, ask him a question for me."