by TJ Reynolds
Somehow, he remained conscious.
He thanked Ban for saving his life, but already, the gargat was back in the air, hovering above the warrior girl, spitting black acid down on every baliska that came near.
The horse had flattened the staff-wielding baliska, and trotted back to stand near its master. It was a strong beast, and though far from failing, Kai noticed it limping as it returned.
To make matters worse, the baliska that ran at them in waves were getting bigger. Some exceeded the size of massive hunting hounds, well over a hundred pounds. He noticed also that the structure of their bodies was anything but uniform. Many had thicker limbs, tipped by razor-sharp claws while others relied primarily on the power of their jaws.
As they closed in on the desperate group of defenders, Kai shuddered as he witnessed a few of the larger baliska slow and then stand, no longer fighting low to the ground on four limbs like beasts, but upright like men.
Throughout the entire attack, the unnamed woman fought with the precision and courage of a dozen warriors.
She received many wounds, some of which sealed up shortly after they were received. One deep gash in her thigh looked potentially fatal but the blue glow of ether spilled from the wound and it closed partially. Blocking a devastating blow on her forearm, Kai noticed how the limb seemed to suddenly be shrouded by ether-forged stone, blunting much of the attack.
Yet despite her many skills, she was only human.
Watching her, Kai felt sick as her body took more punishment than he felt any one body could. Yet some skill allowed her not only to continue to fight but also to heal herself as she fought. He noted a cut on her shoulder that not only healed itself but when the skin had closed, left no scar behind.
She’s a vision both terrible and fair, Kai thought, his fevered mind spinning. Like a child of Yugos and Briga both.
It was the monsters who took the worst of it. Their bodies were obliterated by explosions of energy extending from the woman’s fists. Once, a massive baliska rose on its hind legs and began swinging its clawed limbs at her. She avoided these and countered by thrusting two fingers into the side of its skull. A spark of ether seemed to leap from her hand and into the beast. Its head twisted to the side and it fell dead at her feet atop many others.
Slowly, Kai and his defenders were forced backwards, the pile of bodies acting now as a low wall to slow the foe’s onslaught. Any advantage at this point was useful. Kai crawled back a few feet, hoping to at least stay out of the way. He left his glaive buried in the body of the large baliska he had slain. But after a dozen feet of dragging himself through the mud, Kai felt himself once again slip towards unconsciousness.
He focused with all of his might, hanging his head just over the brackish water until he felt his mind clear again.
Ban fought bravely beside their new allies, but several baliska casters launched bolts of energy at him. He dodged most of these, but a crackling bolt hit one of his wings and the gargat plummeted to the ground out of Kai’s sight.
The horse was a demon, blasting apart whatever groups of baliska formed, using their proximity to good effect, yet Kai could see the noble beast was nearing its limits. Slick blood covered its legs and haunches, leaking from dozens of cuts and bites. Its huge muscles trembled from pain and exertion, though its eyes were still white hot with rage.
Beside her brave mount, the woman fought with a grace and poise that Kai could only describe as divine. Never before had he witnessed such unbridled beauty and power in the same person. He watched her lithe form sweeping between the attacks of her foes, countering the baliska at every move, and using her injuries to fuel righteous devastation back on the enemy’s ranks. Is it right to note how lovely her legs, how stout her hips are? Surely not, at least not while she bleeds to defend me.
He laughed to himself, thinking the situation nearly as absurd as it was terrifying. And though he tried desperately to stand and join in the final moments of a hopeless battle, thinking it only fitting he lend some aid to his dauntless defenders, Kai’s vision began to fade.
The sounds of battle grew dim and distant.
Soon he found himself staring at a small patch of grass.
Kai turned to stare once more at the heart of the battle as the black swallowed him whole. The last thing he saw was the woman standing against a final wave of baliska, more than twenty of the monsters surrounding her. When they launched themselves at her from all sides, jaws open and filled with malice, she stood her ground like a tiny fortress of stone.
No warrior can stand against such odds, no matter how strong.
She grew still for a moment, and then her body exploded with light, searing his eyes. The color was unlike anything he’d ever seen, a metallic silver glowing with endless power shone outward like a flare, searing away the dreary blacks and grays of the swamp.
She’s a fallen star, he thought as his mind slipped away into unconsciousness, his body collapsing to the wet ground. How lucky am I to have seen it land?
33
To Break the Tide
Rhona
Rhona’s body thrummed with ether, her stores of AE unleashing in bursts as she eliminated the baliska, one at a time. As quickly as she used the power, it refilled as she was continually cut and scraped and bit. Most of the injuries were minor, but already, she felt her body growing close to its breaking point. She was nearing her limits and the enemy showed no sign of abating.
A final wave of baliska swarmed around her, some two and three times the size of those she’d fought in the first wave. They screamed with rage, their blue eyes burning through the darkening sky.
With no options left, Rhona finally activated the ability Teema had given her.
Spirit Surge pulsed through her muscles, strengthening her ligaments and bones. She noticed first the blast of light that emerged from her body, bleeding through the gloom.
Time slowed to a crawl, and her attention fixed on the suspended tumble of one of her recently defeated foes.
Suddenly, the onslaught of enemies froze, caught mid-leap, moving at a fraction of their normal speed. In shock, Rhona stared into the gleaming maw of a baliska just two feet from her face. Drool spilled from the corner of its mouth as slow as chilled honey. All around, baliska were poised to rend her flesh, to spill her blood and finish what they’d started.
Even as she stared at them arrayed all about, Rhona felt no fear.
Her body vibrated with ecstatic energy, a surge of potential pushing her mind beyond anything she’d experienced before. Answering her ether’s call, Rhona moved.
She brought her hands together sharply, feeling an arcing spark of ether flash between them just before her palms touched.
Then she attacked.
Sliding her right fist out, Rhona struck the nearest baliska in its temple with two flexed knuckles. The bones in its skull crumpled inward, folding away from her hand, a fine spray of blood painting the sky in slow motion.
In rapid succession, Rhona used the blade of her hand to hack another, popping its spine just below the neck and sending it away on a new trajectory. Then she punched two more in their flat foreheads, the baliskas’ skulls again shattering under the blows.
Four more baliska hung in the air, a few feet behind the first, and Rhona lashed out with a series of well-aimed kicks. Their bodies snapped and buckled under the force.
The immediate threat dealt with, Rhona waded into their oncoming ranks. She took her time, breaking the spines and skulls of the baliska with terrible ease. Her body was painted with their blood as she struck over and over, pounding her will into their feeble forms.
She plucked off the three beasts scaling Honor’s back, unhinging the jaw of the one that was about to sink its teeth into the horse’s neck with a quick jerk of her hand.
Then Rhona sprinted, alive with the thrill of endless power, and danced across the backs of several more of the scaled monsters, their spines cracking like shards of driftwood. Each beast she found, she ended with on
e punch, one slap, one kick.
It was an unparalleled slaughter, something she’d never dreamed possible.
Though the prospect of such power disturbed her sense of what was fair and just, she found the endless vigor intoxicating nonetheless.
At last, she faced the largest of the creatures—three enormous beasts running side by side in a deadly triad. These moved quicker, and as she approached, she could see their eyes track her. Despite her incredible speed, the lead baliska twisted toward her and swung its claws out in a lazy arc. It was much more powerful, moving at least twice as fast as its fellows, and yet with minimal effort, Rhona blocked the attack with the flat of her palm and counter-punched its sternum twice. She thrust up with a twisting fist, smashing its lower jaw back into its face.
A shiver of pain ran through her as she felt one of the beast’s claws graze her thigh. Rhona rotated her leg, caught the blow on her shin, then jumped and kicked out with her back leg. Her heel crushed the baliska’s heart, sending fragments of rib cage exploding out its back.
The final beast howled in rage, the sound of its scream a low rumble that shook the air around her. She snatched its claw from the air an inch before it pierced her chest, and yanked out and to the side, catching the beast’s elbow in her other hand as she did so. The limb exploded from the beast’s bony frame at the shoulder. Rhona slapped her elbow into the flat space beneath the baliska’s eye. Its head twisted, the tendons in its neck tearing in a series of pops.
She looked about her, many of her foes still falling to the ground, dead. Their blood filled the sky in morbid arcs and dark crimson shadows. Then she released the skill and the world popped back into ordinary time around her.
Rhona heard only the beating of her heart and the wet splash and thuds of blood and bodies falling to the ground. She was winded, breathing hard. The brief moments she’d used her ability had taxed her body beyond any training sequence or chaotic battle she’d ever experienced.
Bracing herself, the woman fought off a wave of nausea and dizziness. What helped her hold back the blackness that threatened to overwhelm her was the ocean of ether pouring into her from the dozens of defeated foes that lay scattered in piles amidst the hillocks. It was a torrent of icy power that almost alleviated her fatigue.
All around her, baliska lay in heaps, white bone protruding from slick scaled bodies. The air reeked of entrails, viscera, and blood. Rhona gagged, suddenly realizing how completely the stink of the baliskas’ death coated her mouth.
She breathed.
The air was cold on her limbs. Blood ran down her arms and dripped from her hands. Her wounds burned distantly, reminding her that she’d narrowly escaped death.
Honor nickered beside her, his nose pushing her in the ribs. He lifted his head and stared at her. The poor horse’s eyes were bloodshot, still coming down from the throes of frenzy. But they also pleaded with her, begged her to step back from the brink.
She lifted her hand and stroked his velvet nose. “Okay, Honor,” she said. “I’m here.” She took a deep breath against his neck, the smell of horse sweat barely discernable over the cloying stench of destruction. They stood together, just breathing, for a few moments, seeking solace in the familiarity of each other’s company.
A tiny voice finally broke the silence from behind Rhona. “Excuse me, lady warrior. I’m gravely injured and so is my good friend, and, oh dear, you seem a bit worse for wear as well. What might we do to recover ourselves?”
Rhona watched the odd creature rub its hands together anxiously. The great folds of its ears bent backward in an obvious sign of anxiety. It was so ugly it was cute, in a way. It also looked as if it had slammed its face into a castle wall, its cheeks and brow flat and given over to the same folds as its ears.
She examined it in her Etheric Interface.
Gargat
Dungeon Champion
Amber 2
The description was more than just odd. She’d never heard of a gargat before, but its title of Dungeon Champion was downright bizarre. She shrugged away the weirdness and returned her gaze to the odd little creature. Its yellow eyes blinked a few times, then focused on her again.
“I assume the only way to proceed, of course, is to begin with the common courtesy of an introduction.” The little creature bowed to her with a courtly flourish. “My name is Bancroft, Ban for short, and my unconscious friend here is Kai.”
“I’m Rhona and this is my companion Honor,” Rhona replied, shaking the gargat’s tiny hand.
It withdrew and stared at the blood she’d smeared in its palm. Then, looking more closely at her soiled condition, noted, “I think you might want to wash… your hands and face, at least. Before we decide anything else.”
So, for the next few minutes, Rhona rinsed blood and worse from her hands and arms with swamp water followed by a bit of drinking water to rinse that away. Her face and some of her hair she washed as well. More than ever, she was thankful for her braid, though it was morbid how much of the blood was hidden in her crimson locks. It was as if she were born for this.
Finally, she felt capable of continuing, at least until they found a more suitable body of water to clean up in. When she found that, Rhona would most definitely be taking a bath.
She walked over to check on the young man, who still lay in a heap, his face covered in sweat. Ban stooped over him, nervously hopping from foot to foot.
“It is fever, then? Or perhaps some disease?” Rhona asked, knowing there were more than a dozen ways the man may have come to such a condition.
“He slew a Miremog yesterday, and his wounds were drenched in its foul liquids. Then the poor lad slept out in the open, all wet and cold,” Ban continued mournfully. “Hopefully, it is just infection and a fever, though what kind of diseases a monster like that might carry is beyond me.”
Rhona looked at the gargat in surprise. “He slew the Miremog?” When Ban nodded, she continued. “No offense, but I wouldn’t have thought your companion capable of such an impressive feat. You’re in luck, however, I have some herbs that should help. Let me fetch them from my bags.”
She returned to Honor and took out a large portion of the hay for him to snack on while she worked. Then she retrieved the medicine the herbalist had sold her. The two glowing vials, however, didn’t seem needed, so she let them be.
With the gargat’s help, Rhona spread a bit of the paste in the wounds she found on the man’s body. Some were older, with red streaks that crept away from their fetid openings, poison already spreading towards his heart.
Then she used a bit of soldier magic.
Even the lowliest of grunts received a steel cup, enough to drink and eat from, and even boil a bit of water in. Thick, ugly and sturdy, many joked about the number of Hintari or Kaltanese who’d met their doom, slain by a desperate soldier wielding no more than their soldier’s cup. Within the cup, wrapped in waxed linen, was a large lump of Flame Sap. Taken from the leaves of an inconspicuous plant, high in the mountains, Flame Sap burned slow and steady for far longer than it should, even in the middle of a dank swamp.
Filling her cup a third of the way full, Rhona added some of the herbs and root she’d purchased in Mindonne. The hardest part was finding something relatively dry and inflammable to work on, but she eventually retrieved the young man’s glaive and used the steel-capped butt of the staff to do so. Ban made to protest, but when he saw what she was about, he quieted back down. Then, with flint and steel, she cast sparks into a pinch of the sap, making a dollop of fire, just enough to boil the water.
In a few minutes, Rhona had a bitter-smelling brew of tea ready. She let the tea steep for a while longer, then watered it down, making it cool enough to drink. With the help of the gargat, she managed to pour a bit down the man, Kai’s, throat.
She took a few sips herself, but saved most of the rest for when Kai came to.
Honor had finished his meal, so she filled his water skin and joined him in slaking her thirst. Finally, she spent another
ten minutes, painfully rubbing the rest of the sticky paste into the deepest of her own cuts and then on the many gashes and wounds Honor had endured.
“What now?” she asked Ban, who continued to watch over his gray-faced companion. “I’m headed to Hintar, but need a place to camp for the night. Is there not somewhere more suitable than this blood-soaked field? Or are you as unfamiliar with the swamp as I am?”
“It’s funny you should ask,” Ban chuckled ruefully. “We were running away from just such a place. If those creatures have truly expended themselves, then there should be some shelter just ahead.” He sighed and looked around. “Though I’m not sure if we can make it there in the dark.”
Rhona glanced around. Night was truly upon them, but she was used to working in the dark. This portion of the swamp, at least, had no overhanging branches to obscure the trickle of light afforded by the blanket of stars above. “What is it you speak of? Where in this blasted swamp might we go?”
“A dungeon. We found its entrance, at least I think we did, and there we happened upon all of these.” The gargat gestured to the mounds of baliska corpses. “They seemed to have been living there, which is frightfully queer, as you may know. Shivvered dungeons are not known to be hospitable places, not in the slightest.”
Rhona grimaced. Even if it meant venturing ahead at a slow pace in the dark, she could agree to such a plan. But risking further encounters with the baliska? That was foolhardy. This wasn’t a time for further adventures.
“We will move away a mile or so if, we can manage. Predators will be coming for these lot. We shouldn’t be about when they do,” she mused. “Honor, you’ll need to carry this one.”
The warhorse complained, tossing his head at the notion, but as she knew he would, the horse stilled when she dragged the unconscious form to his side. Wrestling Kai’s dead weight up into a saddle was the hardest part. She tried several times to heave the young man up and over the saddle, her limbs quaking with the effort.