by Frank Morin
It paused and started bashing its head against the ground, cracking the ice, but Connor kept shoring the prison back up. Evander's giant took advantage of the elfonnel's distraction to seize it and lift it high.
While the monsters struggled, Connor targeted the elfonnel's front right shoulder. Maybe he could disable it, keep it from moving so fast? That would give him time to figure out how to take it apart. Water, like an extension of his will, flowed around the joint, filling the entire area and hardening to ice.
Water always expands as ice, and packed in so tight, the expanding ice cracked the armored plating around the joint. It sounded like the splitting thunderclap of lightning strikes nearby. He took it as a good sign, poured in more water, and repeated the process.
The monster convulsed and beat its head so hard against the giant holding it aloft that the ice shattered. How could it hit itself so hard and not give itself a concussion?
The giant stumbled back and the elfonnel slithered back to the ground, casting a silver-eyed glare at Connor. It opened wide that gigantic maw, its serpentlike tongues snapping in Connor's direction.
So he filled its shoulder joint with water for the third time and hardened it again. The joint popped, and with a final concentrated spear of rushing water, Connor severed the limb entirely.
"Yes!" he shouted as the elfonnel roared in pain, its leg falling to the ground like a giant tree.
Then it dropped, its entire torso plunging into the ground. Earth rippled away, forming a towering wave that struck Connor and tossed him into the air. The rippling effect continued into the Carraig. Buildings shook, towers cracked, and at least two palaces toppled, unable to handle the unexpected shaking of their roots. The thunder of the collapsing structures echoed across the plain like the monster's laughter.
When the elfonnel stood again, its leg was reattached.
So much for plucking it like a stone chicken. Connor could never defeat it unless he separated it from its element. That's what Evander's giant had been trying unsuccessfully to accomplish.
He needed to do something fundamentally different. So he drew deeper from the soapstone, biting down on the stone in his mouth and embracing the element with his entire will. Like the day he'd formed the great dome over the Rhidorroch, he stepped into the element, becoming one with it until the waters were but extensions of his limbs.
The unconquerable strength of water rushed through him like the tides, and as his control became complete, he sensed the threshold. It really was like an invisible door just above him. On the far side, he sensed even greater powers, like hints of a coming dawn. But with that feeling came a tremor, an aftertaste of unease. Through that threshold lay power, perhaps enough to defeat the monster, but there also lurked the dangers Ailsa had alluded to.
With a bellowing challenge that shook the plain, the elfonnel charged past the grasping hands of the giant and bore down on Connor.
That danger was all too real, and far more pressing than the imagined risks of the threshold. He needed those powers or everyone who depended upon him was going to die. Connor drew deeper from the soapstone and in his mind, he leaped.
He touched the threshold, but felt an intangible resistance pressing him back down. He tore at the barrier, trying to force his way through, but it withstood his efforts.
So Connor tapped obsidian again, and his thoughts accelerated, as if they'd been nearly sleeping before. With a flash of insight he understood. Grasping the full might of the sculpted soapstone, Connor released it all in a single, overwhelming rush, driving his mind upward into the threshold as if carried upon an invisible tide.
Every drop of free-floating water within a quarter mile rushed in toward him with a roar and crashed together at his feet in a spectacular series of cresting waves that built upon each other, lifting him high into the air on a watery spire until he could look down upon the towering turrets of the Carraig far below.
The power of the sculpted stone mimicked the physical waters, and he ascended upon that torrent. The invisible restraint of the threshold weakened under that rush of elemental power, and Connor's mind burst through.
It felt like he was plunging into the mysterious depths of the untamed ocean, as if all his life, he'd only ever dipped a single toe into the waters. Now he dove deep, plunging into the heart of the great waters.
It was his heart. The pulsing of his blood moved in time with the great tides, flowing together with the mighty rivers. He no longer walked with the element of water. He was the water. It felt as if the very nature of his body had shifted just a fraction, but that fraction made all the difference. In a moment of radiant glory, his senses exploded outward in every direction, as if he was rising high over the land until the entire nation stretched below his gaze.
Everywhere he looked, water glowed like liquid amber in his mind. He could touch any of it, snap his senses to that spot, and see or hear everything happening there.
It was too much to comprehend, and for a terrifying second, it felt like his soul was on the brink of dissipating into those many waters. Then his mind snapped back to the present, and again he stood upon a bubbling tower of rippling water, staring down at the elfonnel on the plain below.
Connor grinned and his voice sounded like the crashing of waves in a storm.
"Now I will kill you."
Chapter 80
As Connor gathered the many waters to strike at the elfonnel crouched at the base of his tall, watery spire, the monster suddenly pitched to the side. It staggered to and fro, like a drunken man on the deck of a ship in a storm. Then it stopped, all eight legs splayed and rigid, threw its massive head back, and bellowed, a deep-throated cry of hatred that shook Connor high atop his watery perch.
He had no idea what was happening to the monster, but hopefully the strange behavior was a sign that it was finally weakening. Evander's giant circled it cautiously, as if expecting some kind of trick.
Without warning, Connor's vibrant strength evaporated, and his intimate connection with elemental water sundered. It was as if he'd been riding the crest of an enormous wave that unexpectedly crashed to the shore. His ethereal senses snapped, severing contact with the element, and releasing the waters of his towering spire into an abrupt thunderous waterfall.
As he plunged down with the water, Connor tried to reestablish connection, but his thoughts turned sluggish and he felt an overwhelming weariness, as if all the waters of the great deep piled upon his shoulders. In desperation, he tapped obsidian, which helped spin his thoughts up to speed again.
That's when he realized what was happening. He'd been warned, but had forgotten the danger. Ascending through that threshold spent his strength and stretched him, mind and body, beyond his natural capacity. Just like burning igneous stones to exhaustion triggered a post-exhaustion reaction, ascending did the same thing.
It couldn't happen now, though! He had to destroy the monster, not collapse at its feet in his moment of victory.
His body didn't care, and he crashed to the ground, saved from breaking bones by the churning flood that was churning away in every direction. He plunged deep, striking the ground, then tumbled about in the wild currents until the waters dispersed, leaving him gasping in several inches of soupy mud.
Connor tried to rise, to stand and face the elfonnel and reestablish his contact with water, but his muscles refused to obey. A coughing fit doubled him over, and the tiny piece of soapstone, all that remained of the incredible sculpted creation, slipped out of his mouth into the mud.
A voice spoke into his mind. It was a strong voice, cultured and deep, and filled with exultant joy.
"You belong to me!"
"You're one of my imaginary friends," Connor retorted. "So that means you belong to me."
"You will usher in the day of my ultimate glory," the voice continued.
"Will you be quiet?" Connor said. "My mind, remember? So my glory when I win freedom to craft my own future."
The voice chuckled. "The freedom you s
eek is but a shadow of hope."
"Leave me alone," Connor exclaimed. It was getting difficult to convince himself the voice wasn't some deranged part of himself that snapped free during that last tumble into the waters. The alternative was as scary as anything he'd dealt with all day.
The voice did not leave, but spoke with growing strength. "All that has happened to you, every challenge that has formed you, has driven you to this moment, serving as the push required to achieve this moment of destiny."
Like Connor's mother was fond of saying, such claims were like rising dough. They were impressive to look at until one poked them and they collapsed, having been filled with nothing but hot air.
"What do you want?"
"You will destroy my enemies and lay waste to every land that opposes my will."
"Get in line," Connor retorted. It seemed every nation wanted to win his loyalty and use his curse to solve their military problems. "And get out of my head."
"You are my slave until I release you or death claims you."
"Not much incentive for me to agree," Connor said, trying to crawl away from the elfonnel that had just rammed Evander's giant off its feet. It seemed consumed by a vast rage, driven beyond its normal strength. Earth erupted all around Evander's giant, burying it. More earth rushed in, swept off the plain like a rug yanked across a room. It piled on top of the giant, forming a small mountain and leaving the false ceiling of the ancient, ruined city bare.
All Connor managed to do was flop onto his face in the slippery mud. "Who are you?"
"Dougal," came the ringing reply. "Your master."
Connor cringed from the strength of that voice. How was he speaking right into Connor's head? He'd heard of people hearing voices in their head, but never someone else's real voice. Had he swallowed a speakstone he didn't know about?
"You're late," he said. All his life, he had wanted nothing more than to serve High Lord Dougal as Guardian, but now he was grateful events had prevented him from swearing allegiance to Shona's father. At least she sometimes pretended she wanted him as a partner.
"The choice is no longer yours to make," Dougal said, and an invisible force seized Connor's mind, shackling his will with icy chains.
Connor tried to fight, but didn't even know what was going on. How could he fight an invisible enemy? If patronage was a lie, how was Dougal in his head? He struggled to focus, to drive the insistent voice out of his head, but his thoughts began to grow dim, and a dark confusion settled over his mind. He couldn't even remember what he was fighting.
Glancing through the haze that had descended over his vision, Connor noticed the elfonnel stop its wild stomping around the prison it had constructed for Evander's giant and turn toward him with terrifying intent. The monster lowered its head, trumpeted its rage, and charged.
It was hard to think, but the sight of that galloping mountain of monster sparked a single clear thought.
He was so grouted.
Chapter 81
"He's down!" Hamish shouted, pushing up his long vision goggles. "He's just lying there. I think he's hurt."
"How?" Verena exclaimed.
"Of course he'd fall right when it looked like he was doing so well," Cameron grumbled.
"You'd think he'd wrap it up," Tomas agreed, gesturing at the devastated landscape. "He's just about broken everything."
Then the elfonnel trumpeted a challenge and charged Connor.
"We have to help him!" half a dozen voices cried in unison.
As one, every Petralist still standing broke into a charge. Most of the army had gathered into a single body to witness Connor's lone assault against the monster, and Hamish had been impressed by the outpouring of support. They might be mostly high born nobles, but Connor had somehow won the hearts of those mighty warriors.
As he broke into a run with the hundreds of angry Petralists, he decided there were few better ways to face death by monster. He only wished he'd had a better breakfast.
Then a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to a stop. It was that Healer, Aifric.
"What are you doing?" Hamish asked. "Haven't you ever wanted to be part of a suicide charge?"
"No one has to die today," Aifric said. "And if you really want to help Connor, you'll carry me up onto the mountain."
"You're cracked. He needs help over there."
"You saw him fall. He's now vulnerable to the real enemy."
"What enemy? The monster's right there!" He gestured to the charging elfonnel that was still bearing down on Connor, even though Striders were already ringing it, slinging stones and trying to distract it.
"The real monster is the one controlling the elfonnel."
"Wait, what?"
"It's more than raging, uncontrolled elements," she said, and the conviction in her voice made it hard to doubt her.
"How does a Healer know all this?"
She leaned closer, her expression hardening. "Are you going to help me save him or not?"
He glanced from her to the horde of Petralists closing on the elfonnel. He really wanted to join that crowd, but what if she was right? He wished he hadn't lost sight of Jean in the press. She'd be able to see the truth of what Aifric was saying.
"Why do you think the monster focuses so much on Connor?" she asked.
Hamish shrugged. "He's got the most stones. It's hungry."
She rapped a knuckle on his helmet. "Think deeper, Hamish. It's been targeting him for another reason. It would take too long to explain, but you have to trust me. I can stop the person who right now is attempting to destroy Connor's mind. If he succeeds, he'll turn Connor into a far deadlier monster than the elfonnel ever could be." She held his gaze with her fierce eyes. "Do you want to have to kill your best friend?"
Kilian had turned elfonnel and lost control. Could Connor somehow unleash a similar disaster? He didn't know how Aifric knew that truth, but Kilian had also suggested Dougal might somehow manage to seize control over Connor's mind. He didn't dare ignore her warning.
"Fine, but if you're lying, I'll kill you myself."
"If I'm lying, I'll kill myself first," she retorted.
"That's mental."
She leaped upon his back. "How about, 'I'm glad to see you're such a loyal friend'."
"That works better."
"Let's go."
Not entirely sure it was wise to take to the skies with the crazy woman on his back, and not confident that enough quartzite power remained to take them up the mountain and back, Hamish activated the thrusters and leaped into the air.
Chapter 82
The haze of confusion over Connor's thoughts lifted a little and he blinked against the mud and water covering his face. The elfonnel had drawn dangerously close, despite being harried by Striders. Bolts of fire and ice rained across its face, and when Connor painfully turned his head the other way, he was shocked to see the entire massed army of the Carraig charging in his direction, led by Rory and Verena.
They dared rush the elfonnel, for him? They were idiots, but he was moved by their willingness to sacrifice. It was hard to think, but that much seemed clear.
He glanced back at the elfonnel looming over him and tried to gather his thoughts. He tapped obsidian. Like a bucket of ice water splashed over his face, his thoughts sharpened, and he felt the connection to Dougal's mind like an invisible shackle.
Dougal's thoughts echoed down that conduit as his control over Connor solidified, becoming complete. Connor's sense of his own body faded, and for a moment, he was Dougal.
Being an old, crazy guy was really unpleasant.
Dougal really was controlling the elfonnel, although Connor still didn't see how it was possible. Dougal had released the mind of the Petralist lost within the monster to grab at Connor's, but was attempting to reestablish his dominance over the beast. It was clear that Dougal had expected the elfonnel to rampage away through the school or return to fighting Evander's giant while he cemented his hold over Connor.
Dougal had made one lit
tle mistake. He had pushed the elfonnel to focus on Connor so exclusively that it was the one thought that drove it. It wanted to eat Connor above all else. He shivered to feel the intensity of that hunger, which radiated up from Dougal's connection with the monster and back to him.
If it could fight him, so could Connor.
He needed to think, but tapping obsidian had only seemed to give Dougal a stronger hold over his mind, so Connor released it. For a moment, obsidian wouldn't turn off, as if Dougal was somehow maintaining the connection. But Dougal needed to focus almost entirely on the monster as it drew within striking distance. His efforts paid off enough to turn it for a moment to chase a Strider.
In that moment, his control over Connor slipped and Connor shackled obsidian. Although his thoughts immediately plunged back into the murk, it wasn't as thick as before. Connor fought to regain control over his body, but all he managed was to twitch his left hand.
Lorcc and Padraigin skidded to a stop beside him.
"General!" Lorcc cried. "Are you all right?"
He couldn't answer, couldn't form a single word, couldn't even shake his head.
Padraigin pressed a hand to his head, and he felt healing warmth flow into him. That contact helped drive Dougal's presence back a bit and Connor's mind awakened.
"What?" Padraigin exclaimed, frowning over him.
"He's in my mind," Connor croaked. "Get me out of here."
Padraigin's eyes widened with fear. "This is terrible. Take him to the Healers. I must find Aifric."
Lorcc hefted Connor and ran back to the main bulk of the army. His friends surrounded him in a protective barrier as Lorcc lowered him.
"What's wrong?" Verena exclaimed, dropping to her knees beside him.
"Are you hurt?" Shona asked, crouching on the other side.
Without the active healing power helping, Connor couldn't form the words to explain.
"He said something about someone in his mind," Lorcc said.
"What does that mean?" Verena asked.