by A. Lawrence
The dragon had its shoulders in the room, the plates on its sides screeching against the stone, but it wasn't stopping, even when a piece of its shoulder came away. It smacked its head against the construct and sent it hurtling into a wall, chips of stone and dust raining from the impact. She heard Heln yell something, and she was on her feet and running over to him regardless of the danger before she even made the conscious decision to move.
The construct was up, smaller than it had been and no longer dribbling mist. It wrapped itself around the dragon again, all long, spindly claws and a head that was mostly teeth on top of a skinny neck. It stabbed and slashed wildly at the dragon. The combatants were too distracted to really take any notice of her, and she scrambled over the fallen Rising Stone.
Heln's jacket was pinned under it. Bel yanked the strap of his satchel off of his shoulder, unzipped the jacket and helped him struggle out of it, her fingers freezing and fumbling. She pulled Heln clear just as the stone was shoved closer to them when the dragon tried to dislodge the construct by thrashing its head. They both scrambled for the wall as it smashed its skull into the ceiling.
"Where's Rhyss?" Heln asked. He had finally lost his glasses. The side of his face was scraped up and his eyes were impossibly wide.
Bel glanced over the stone. Rhyss was crouched behind another one, close to them. Rhyss looked back and made some motions with her hands that were probably some elaborate plan that would get them out of the room and back to relative safety.
Unfortunately, Bel had no idea what Rhyss was trying to say with her sign language. She shrugged exaggeratedly at her.
"She's okay." Bel ducked back behind the stone just as a piece of another one went whizzing right through the air where her head had just been, hitting the wall and showering them with more dust. She flinched away from it. "I think she has a plan but I have no idea what it is. Do you have any brilliant insights?"
Heln pulled the light stick out of his pants pocket. "This."
"Yes okay a nice cheerful light instead of this green junk would be nice but—"
"No." Heln shook his head and waved it more emphatically. "When you hit it with the bubble, it faltered, right? It doesn't do well with foreign magic that isn't… filtered or whatever unless it's expecting it, like Rhyss's knife. You're low on magic and Rhyss doesn't work well without something to focus her. So. She can focus this."
"That's genius." Bel snatched the light stick from him. "I'll get it to her, you stay here."
The stone they had been hiding behind was ripped away violently enough that it shattered against the far wall. Bel found herself staring at what looked like glowing green vines, for a moment. Hundreds of them. The light construct still had a core body and long, bent legs that ended in points, but it had given up on having a head or a shape that actually looked like anything. The mist billowed around its thin limbs, eddying up its skin.
The vines all hardened into spiny points, all of them aimed for the two of them. Bel somehow found her feet and pulled Heln to his.
Her brother tugged her towards the light construct, which was honestly the last direction she wanted to go, but she figured Heln had a plan. They ducked and rolled under the claws. Bel slid a little too far but Heln ended up right next to one of the legs. Before it could react, he stabbed it with the light stick and activated the script.
Yellow oozed around the wound, lighting up the green vapor, before it absorbed the whole thing into its body. It swayed a bit, its rigid arms going limp.
The dragon bit down, hard, on the upper body with a crunch that was worse than the last one.
One of its teeth went through the main core of its body, shattering it. The construct stopped thrashing immediately, the claws clattering limply on the floor. Bel dragged Heln back to where Rhyss was standing. The dragon shook its head and pieces of it shattered off, turning the chalky, white panels green where they touched.
The dragon was halfway in the room and it dropped the construct onto the floor, green liquid spreading like a blood stain beneath it.
"Okay." Rhyss was not looking very steady. She was standing in front of the dragon like she thought she could do something. Maybe she could; it had stopped moving completely. "Okay. We just need to get through this and we can go home. Okay?"
Bel didn't know if it was that easy. But they could at least get somewhere else and find out if one of the tunnels lead somewhere else if they got out of the chamber.
The dragon opened his ruined mouth and the clicking started.
Bel did the only thing she could think of to do, which was something that was incredibly stupid. She ran at the dragon, slapped a hand on its snout, and used a cleaning script.
It screamed, the sound too loud for the small room, and tossed its head. Bel went flying and had a perfect moment of clarity, one second to regret every life choice that had led her to that point before she hit the wall and landed on the floor. Pain blossomed across her ribs, much worse than the scrape, and her vision went white. It felt like an eternity before the agony subsided enough that her vision returned. Her ears were ringing so loudly she couldn't even hear the noise she felt stalling in her throat when she tried to sit up. She managed to look over in time to see Heln get knocked over and Rhyss, who must have been screaming by the way her mouth was moving, was launching herself at the dragon. She got knocked to one side, too, but not before she punched it in its remaining eye.
She was so proud of Rhyss in that moment that she almost forgot the pain.
Her hearing was returning, the ringing evening out into a small, tinny sound. Maybe she hadn't hit her head too hard. She wasn't honestly sure if she had actually hit her head, but at least she didn't seem to be bleeding. Heln had a cut above one eye, but he was getting to his feet.
The dragon hissed, reared back its head and yanked itself into the room by smashing through part of the wall. Its back legs and tail were still on the steps but the room still felt like it was mostly dragon. It spread its wings and effectively cut off any chance of escape.
For the first time Bel really, honestly thought about just lying there and giving up, but something made her get to her knees. She had to breathe for a moment, every breath a rattling gasp, before she pushed herself to her feet. She had no real magic left, her side throbbed like it was full of knives every time she moved, and her left arm didn't seem to want to cooperate. She curled it up against her chest like she could protect it. The cleaning script had effectively scrubbed half of the dragon's face off, white skull poking through ruined flesh, but that hadn't really deterred it too much. If she could do it right next to the power core, it might finish what the light construct had started.
"Rhyss, the cleaning script!" she coughed and her vision wavered again. She staggered back against the wall, leaning heavily against it.
"I can't get close enough!" she yelled back.
The dragon turned to her and all Bel could do was let her good hand drop to her side. She couldn't dodge it—if it shot fire now they were quite literally toast—and she didn't see a way out. Even if they were somehow able to leave the chamber the dragon would follow them. Heln and Rhyss might make it out, but she couldn't run.
She could at least go with dignity, standing up as straight as she could.
Heln was suddenly in front of her; Bel hadn't even noticed him crossing the room. She stared at her brother's shoulder blades, completely dumbfounded. Heln spread his arms, standing his ground.
The dragon lurched forward and Bel realized she couldn't watch. She had a million things to say to him, but Heln was knocked back into her and all she could do was grab a hold of him. She didn't care how much it hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead against Heln's shoulder.
Nothing happened for what felt like a long time but was probably only a few seconds. Heln had gone tense in her hold, but he wasn't trying to move. Bel peeked with one eye, expecting to see half of a dragon face right in front of hers.
She had to open both eyes when that was
n't the case.
A dark, shadowy wall had formed between them and the dragon. It must have been what knocked Heln into her.
The dragon started making its clicking noise on the other side of it. She felt the room heat up, but before the fire could kill them all the darkness converged to a single mass. Tendrils of shadow whipped out of it and wrapped around the power core, yanking it out like it was a loose thread and tossing it to the side. It fractured a panel where it landed, glowing dimly for a moment before it faded out.
The dragon wobbled, claws scraping the floor. It crumpled to one side, and even with Bel's hearing still dulled out the sound was horrific. Its remaining eye stared up at the ceiling. The glow in its chest faded and the darkness became almost complete.
Rhyss stood up, slowly forming an illumination bubble over one hand. The shadows curled back from it and something white gleamed through the darkness. At first Bel thought it was a piece of stone, then she realized exactly what it was.
It was a dark figure, taller than even the light construct had been, with a deer skull instead of a head.
It was a skull that was far too big to have ever belonged to a living deer, each one of its too sharp teeth highlighted by the script. A yellow gleam like a firefly flared to life in the socket. The antlers branched up and fading to mist and shadow far above them, nearly brushing the ruined ceiling.
Its body was mostly lost to the dark miasma that settled around it like a cloak, but that didn't matter. She still knew exactly what it was. She'd been afraid when they faced the constructs and the magic eater, terrified of the dragon, but nothing compared to the dread that lodged itself in her throat.
It was the forest god.
Chapter Nineteen
Heln had heard stories since he was little.
The crowned one, the bone peddler, the forest god. He'd heard all of the names before. They were always used as a warning and never, ever sworn by. To swear by the forest god was to give it power. If it ever returned their city would be razed to the ground, their bodies crushed, their souls and bones enslaved. It was why no one left the City or strayed long near the barrier protecting its outskirts. It was dangerous, yes, but what was more dangerous was the thought of his presence lurking in the shadows of the trees.
The only sound was their harsh breathing.
The god's body was shrouded in black, maybe a cloak or possibly an aura, it was impossible to tell. It looked like it might be vaguely humanoid underneath it all, but then something shifted and Heln wasn't sure.
The skull twisted to one side, like the god was tilting his head, considering them. It was just far enough away that without his glasses the god should have been fuzzy around the edges, the entire room around it was a blur, but it was clear and in focus. Bel had a tight grip on his shirt and Heln knew they needed to move. They had to get down the stairs and escape now that the dragon was dead. He barely had time to think before the god surged forward in a billow of dark fog. Bel tried to pull him back but hissed in pain.
There wasn't anywhere to go, anyway. They were practically against the wall, too far away from the door to even consider making it. The forest god stopped before it reached him, the skull right in front of his face. This close Heln could make out every detail of the bone and the antlers that branched up from it. It was even larger than he'd expected, the skull alone was nearly the size of his torso, the antlers almost as tall as he was. It turned to the side to regard him with one eye. This close he could see that at the base of the skull was a line of vertebrae, black from the fog or from skin too tight on the bone, he honestly couldn't tell. He couldn't even breathe, icy terror clogging up his throat and seizing in his lungs.
The yellow point in the socket flashed.
Power drummed against his already weak shields. His timorous hold on them slipped away under the onslaught too easily.
He could feel that the chamber wasn't inherently magical anymore. The power that had been so overwhelming he nearly passed out had faded into nothing. The only thing that was keeping the entire thing from caving in was the magic that rolled off of the god in waves, as steady as a heartbeat.
He had no defense against the magic and he braced himself to be overwhelmed by it. Heln had thought it would feel as dark and oily as the shadows around the god looked.
Instead it was overpowering, immense, his brain couldn't actually comprehend just how much magic was coming from the god. He tried to focus on one thing, but it was impossible. There was no script or even the jagged uniformity of runes to hold everything in place. There wasn't even a magical signature. It just was.
He'd never felt magic so completely before and it was almost intoxicating.
The god felt him, too, he knew it. Heln could feel its presence invading his own. He thought if it continued he would be swept away in something much too ancient and immense to even be real.
There was a sadness there. Something empty and lonely and yearning. He'd never been able to feel emotions behind magic before.
Something shocked him away from the connection. He looked beyond the god to see Rhyss snatching something from the ground and throwing it. A rock bounced harmlessly off of the god, clattering against the floor.
"Really?" Bel rasped out. "That was your plan?"
She had a tight hold on Heln's shoulder with her good hand. Now that he wasn't completely overwhelmed just by the god's presence, that touch was grounding.
The skull turned towards Rhyss, cold shadows brushing against Heln's arm. They felt like ice and cobwebs and he shuddered, trying to move enough to brush ineffectively at the sensation still crawling over his hand but he couldn't seem to move.
Rhyss threw another rock and it bounced off of the skull with a hollow sound. "Go away!"
"Oh yeah. That's going to work." Bel's grip on Heln was weakening and her words were starting to slur.
It took every bit of willpower Heln had, but he finally pulled himself free from whatever had rooted him to the spot, turning around to help Bel sit down. His sister's breathing was getting wheezy and irregular, her face was paler than the skull, and her eyes were glassy. They weren't going to be running out of the chamber, or anywhere else, and the realization anchored Heln's stomach to the floor.
The dark fog spread across the floor of the chamber and it felt almost tacky, clinging to their clothes and hands.
"Get out of here!" Rhyss was screaming desperately. He turned just in time to see the god hold out a hand. In response, the fog rushed at Rhyss, and when it passed she was lying on the ground.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to do anything, but all he could do was try to keep Bel upright and stare in horror at her. Bel slumped against him, her eyes closing.
"What do you want?" He looked up at the god, waiting for it to kill him, too. Or worse.
It lifted its hand again, but the fog didn't react. It was closer to him than it had been before. Heln could smell trees and earth, the way they were fresh and new after a rain shower. The hand was strange, the fingers too long and too sharp, but the palm pressed gently to his forehead was almost warm.
Everything became a rushing darkness.
*~*~*
Heln woke up in degrees.
His brain felt like it had been insulated in cotton and it took a long time to sort that out. When he could finally move enough to put a hand to his forehead he had to yank it out of a loose pile of soil and stone. He was half buried.
He scrambled out of the shallow depression, his chest heaving. Bel was right next to him and Rhyss was a few feet away. For a moment that lasted an agonizing eternity, he was absolutely terrified that the worst had happened, but Bel was breathing. It was shallow, but it was there.
Rhyss shifted a bit. He remembered to breathe himself and finally looked around.
They were outside.
It was night. A crescent moon shone softly in the sky above them. Everything was a blur, but it looked like they were in an open area. The hill of the city rose above the dark smudge of a tree li
ne, dotted with warm lights that reflected the stars he couldn't make out. A cold, fresh gust of wind lifted his hair and brushed against his face.
Heln squinted, hard. He was pretty sure that they were at the festival grounds. It was hard to tell if he was seeing trees or the skeletons of booths that hadn't been completely removed. They were close to home, close enough to walk.
If they could walk.
"Bel." He touched her shoulder, the one that she hadn't been favoring. "Bel wake up. We made it out. Please wake up."
"Nn." Bel cracked open one eye after far, far too long. "'M I dead?"
"Maybe?"
"That's n-not reassuring." Bel tried to laugh, but winced and closed her eyes again.
"I think we're at the Festival grounds but I can't actually see—"
"We are." Rhyss was suddenly next to him and he jumped. He didn't need glasses to see her expression was tight and worried. "She doesn't look good."
"I'm kind of more concerned with the how we got here th-than how I look." Bel's voice was very faint.
But Rhyss was right: she didn't look good. Rhyss spun an illumination bubble and Heln barely stopped himself from cringing away. Bel's coat was a mess on one side, her right arm was broken and before Heln focused on her face he thought he saw a bit of bone poking out of the skin. Her breathing was still too shallow, something moving wrong on her right side with each inhale.
"Bel…"
"Festival Grounds? We rose instead of the stones."
"Please stop talking." Rhyss yanked off what was left of her cloak and wrapped it around her arm where it was bleeding. Bel made a noise of protest that nearly broke him. "I… I don't…"