by Frank Morin
Two more hounds plunged through the sphere of fire and ice holding Harley prisoner. They disintegrated in the resulting elemental explosion, but Harley’s blackened corpse dropped free onto the earth. It had definitely swelled to nearly twice its previous size. Connor had gotten something wrong in his Petralist fricassee recipe.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hamish cursed as he tried activating thrusters to regain control, but the hounds beat and battered the Juggernaut so hard he couldn’t turn it about.
So he started activating weapons. He’d exhausted his supply of diorite missiles and hornets, but many of the mechanicals were multi-use weapons. The battering ram caught one hound in the face, crushing its skull. Its head was packed with earth. The spinning drill caught another monster through the torso and ripped it to shreds. Its death howl shrieked through the Juggernaut, echoing painfully back and forth through the hull.
The hounds were pressed close, so Hamish dropped his last two small bombs out a hatch. As the armor rolled under the ferocious onslaught, he triggered them. The explosions knocked three hounds aside, but did not appear to do any serious damage.
The summoned beasts tore at the outer hull with superhuman ferocity. Their claws actually ripped into the steel or screeched as they scraped hardened granite plates. The sound made him shiver.
He opened one hatch to extend an articulating arm, but a hound seized the arm and ripped it right off. Then the beast shoved its head through and tried crawling inside with Hamish. It smelled like charred earth, and its dead, black eyes sent a shiver of fear through Hamish. They remained fixed on him while it snarled and snapped deadly jaws, trying to enter his armor. If it got inside, it would rip him to shreds.
Its huge shoulders got stuck in the opening, but it blocked the hole and the little quartzite thrusters that moved the plate lacked the power to shear through its hide. It snarled and lunged, stuck barely six feet away.
“Bad dog,” Hamish said, throwing a diorite dart.
It snapped its huge jaws over the dart. An eyeblink later, those jaws exploded and it tumbled back out the hole.
Another, smaller hound took its place and scrambled wildly to get in. For a second, Hamish feared it would make it into the armor.
Then with a yelp of pain, it was sucked back out the opening. Hamish caught a glimpse of earthen fingers ripping into its head.
“Ilse, was that you?” he shouted as he sealed the hatch and focused on his sightstones again. The earth really had risen up against the hounds. Fingers of earth were ripping them off the Juggernaut, while soft, bubbling ground was swallowing a couple more.
Despite her ghastly injuries, Ilse had rejoined the fight. Propped up on one elbow, her other hand was driven into the earth. Her expression was a mixture of agony and fury. Her determination awed him. She should be unconscious, if not dead.
He wasn’t about to complain. With the hounds momentarily distracted, Hamish activated thrusters and set the armor rolling in a wide circle, picking up speed as he went. As he roared back in toward the pack, he snapped spinning blades into place.
He struck the pack like a crazed butcher, shredding summoned bodies and plowing others under. With Ilse’s help, he’d rip those hounds to pieces in seconds.
That’s when Harley’s corpse split down the middle and she rose up from her own ashes.
“Tallan take it and burn it to cinders,” Hamish shouted. He didn’t want to believe what he was seeing, couldn’t imagine how she wasn’t dead. Any sane person would have just accepted they’d died.
Harley looked much smaller, a skeletal, almost childlike version of herself. Bald, with earthy skin, she was dressed in a layer of concealing earth.
She took a faltering step, looking like she barely had the strength to stand. Her second step looked stronger though, and she squared her shoulders and glared at him.
Pure hatred burned in her eyes. She didn’t look human any more, but more elemental than anything. She hadn’t gone elfonnel, but she had abandoned much of what made her a woman when she’d slipped out of her former body.
“I’m going to rip off your head and eat your eyes, Builder,” she growled.
“You first,” Ilse said from behind.
Hamish activated a side-view stone. Ilse had risen to her feet and stood facing Harley defiantly.
Impossible.
Hamish zoomed in and realized the truth. Ilse had summoned new legs for herself. Her crushed, crippled lower half was wrapped in earth.
He’d never heard of anything like it. Sure, Harley had surrounded herself with the elements, but Ilse had been crippled, on the brink of death. Now she faced Harley with vengeful determination.
Ilse had always scared Hamish. Now she terrified him. In a good way.
Even Harley looked impressed. She saluted Ilse with one skeletal, childlike hand.
Then the ground erupted under Hamish, tossing the Juggernaut into the air and flipping him over, despite the efforts of his leveling casters. His view blurred for a moment and something struck the Juggernaut with terrific force, shattering one granite plate and collapsing a couple steel ones in shrieking protests of grinding metal.
The Juggernaut slammed into the ground so hard, Hamish was nearly ripped out of his retraining harness. Another brutal strike dented the sides farther. One of the thick support girders began to bend with a shriek of protest.
What was going on?
One of the sightstones was gone, knocked out by the brutal attack. Hamish frantically activated all the others and they formed a grid of six images across the inside of his visor.
“I’m grouted,” he whispered.
The mini-elfonnel was back. Its head had grown large enough to grip the entire Juggernaut in its massive jaws. The dents were caused by those stalactite teeth grinding down with the power of an avalanche. The long, serpentlike body was wrapped around the Juggernaut, and the snakelike tongues were batting at the outside, ripping at the bent metal, seeking a way to slip inside and tear him asunder.
A couple of the views offered glimpses of the area beyond the mini-elfonnel. Inhuman-Harley and Ilse had both risen on Sentry towers, and the ground rippled and bubbled between them.
For the moment, Ilse was holding her own. Was she angry enough to win? Was Inhuman-Harley weakened enough to give her the chance?
He activated every speakstone in the Juggernaut, linking to every member of the team and shouted, “Anyone who can hear me, Harley’s back! Now would be a great time to get back here and help.”
Then as he focused on trying to figure out a way to escape his predicament he muttered, “Should have used the sculpted scones.”
94
Playing Catch-the-Devil with Swords Is Not as Fun as It Sounds
Verena sprinted around the corner of a long warehouse. Mattias couldn’t be far behind and she panted with fear that he’d catch her again. She was quickly running out of power stones, but none of the tricks she’d used had helped her escape for more than a moment. He pursued with single-minded, murderous intensity.
She hated Dougal more than ever for turning a cherished friend against her. She had so far refused to hurt Mattias, but if she didn’t figure out a way to elude him, she might not have any choice. The thought that she might have to put him down like a rabid dog made her shudder with horror between ragged breaths.
A sound caught her attention. It sounded like something banging lightly behind her. She spun and looked around, but couldn’t see through the snowy grayness. Maybe that was Mattias vaulting the fence she’d just scrambled over. That meant he was too close. Again.
She glanced up at the warehouse looming over her and decided to risk using a precious piece of quartzite. She jumped and activated it, using it like a mini thruster. The tiny stone had barely any power left, and it didn’t produce a lot of force. She carefully managed the release rate, applying just enough force to augment her leap and pull her high enough to grab the outer edge of the gently-sloped warehouse roof. She pulled herself up wit
h desperate strength, barely yanking her torso up over the edge before the little piece of quartzite exhausted its strength and crumbled to dust.
She scrabbled for purchase on the slippery roof with her gloved hands and teetered precariously on the edge for a breathless moment, legs hanging over the space.
Then one of her hands slipped, and she started to slide.
With a muttered curse, she snatched a throwing dagger from her belt and drove the razor sharp blade into the roof. That anchor gave her the leverage she needed to climb up.
Moving carefully, she crept up the shallow roof, grateful it wasn’t pitched steeply like many of the other buildings. The long warehouse was three stories tall and she hadn’t spotted any exterior stairs or ladders.
It might offer a respite from Mattias’s relentless attacks.
Verena lifted her mini-hub, already pointing to Connor’s speakstone. “Connor, where are you?”
“I’m at the north end of the township. Where are you?”
“I’m not sure. I’m on top of a tall warehouse. Give me a second to get oriented.”
She wished there were better landmarks. The township was a working community, so it left the ornamentation to the city across the river. Most of the buildings looked the same. Crowded tenement apartments for the workers, warehouses for goods, and the occasional free-standing house for the merchants.
Verena reached the peak of the roof and looked around, trying to gauge her position. The past few minutes were a blur of terror, punctuated by brief flashes of desperate struggle and escape. She’d used up most of her tiny store of power stones. Maybe she should have disabled him. She wasn’t sure she had enough stones left to stop him.
He was just so fast. He’d leaped a speedcrack wall and dodged jets of fire. He’d nearly taken off her head three times as she fled. He’d scaled buildings when she tried to use the roofs for cover, and ran right up a wall that got in his way when she used a hand thruster to fly over.
This warehouse was a little taller than the others she’d tried, so maybe he wouldn’t find a way up. If she’d finally managed a bit of the Tallan’s luck, he might not have realized where she’d gone.
She tried to calm her rapid breathing as she oriented herself. “Looks like I circled farther south and east again. Hurry.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Verena turned at a slight noise and terror spiked anew. Somehow Mattias had climbed to the roof and was stalking toward her, twin swords at the ready.
“Mattias, I’m getting tired of this,” she said as she backed to the end of the roof and pawed through her satchel, trying to formulate a plan to keep herself alive, but not kill him.
He paused and spoke. “Time to die, Builder witch.”
“I’m going to kill you, Dougal,” she snarled.
Mattias laughed evilly and charged, feet effortlessly finding purchase on the slippery surface.
Verena jumped.
She only had one tiny piece of quartzite left, a piece too small to fly with, but she quickened it to help slow her fall.
Mattias threw himself off the roof after her in a face-first dive, swords driving for her heart.
Verena shuttered the quartzite, dropping faster, and just barely keeping ahead of him. She hit the ground hard and rolled, spraying snow in every direction. She drew her sword as she staggered to her feet.
Mattias landed a second later, making a graceful roll and returning to his feet even before she did. Nearly within arm’s reach, he slashed his deadly swords without any hesitation.
Verena threw herself backward and managed to deflect one sword with hers. The other skipped across her armored shoulder with a shriek of metal.
Mattias pursued, blades whipping like living things. She retreated, focusing on deflecting the strikes aimed at her face and neck. He connected several times against her armored torso, his blades shrieking as if with anticipation of the kill as they scraped her armor.
Verena threw a knife, then dropped a piece of quickened soapstone.
Mattias deflected the knife that would have otherwise plunged through an eye. She threw a second knife a split second later, and he deflected that one just as easily.
The soapstone hit the ground, and all the snow piled along the street whooshed in from every direction. She dove backward through the inrushing blizzard that seemed to swarm Mattias.
He plunged through the snowstorm after her, swords already slashing before she even realized he’d arrived. The first one slapped her hand, numbing it and knocking her short sword away. The second one slashed across her chest as she spun, scoring her armor deeply with another shrieking clang.
Mattias followed through, driving one sword straight at her throat.
Verena screamed and punched out a hand, quickening the blind coal in her gauntlet.
Mattias’s sword skipped across her throat, not quite able to cut the skin, although she felt the deadly cold of the steel. The blind coal would only last a couple of seconds, and Mattias knew it. He raised his swords to cut her down when she tried to flee.
Verena did the only thing she could.
She charged.
And quickened her last, tiny piece of quartzite. She dropped it at his feet as the two of them collided. She shivered at the creepy feeling of sliding right through Mattias and running three long strides beyond before the blind coal ran out.
Verena spun to face him. Mattias turned at the same time, swords ready to slash out her life. He didn’t speak, didn’t gloat or hesitate, showed no recognition in his murderous eyes.
He took a single step closer. And collided with the shimmering shield that appeared around him.
Mattias snarled with rage and beat on the translucent shield with his swords. The quartzite was so tiny that the shield was barely large enough to hold him, and his swords struck the curving boundary both in front and behind.
“This little shield won’t hold me for long, Builder.”
Verena didn’t waste time responding. She grabbed her sword from the ground and ran, swearing vengeance on Dougal for what he’d done to a good man.
She called back over her shoulder, “You are my dear friend, Mattias. I know this isn’t you. If you survive me, know that I forgive you.”
Then she focused on running. Forgetting tricks and stealth, she rounded the building into an empty street and ran for her life. If Connor didn’t arrive soon, Mattias would kill her.
Five seconds later, the shield sputtered out and Mattias shouted in victory. She didn’t bother to look behind, but tried to accelerate. Her legs ached, her breaths came in ragged pants, but she refused to slow.
She stayed ahead of him for a full block before his rapid footsteps drew close enough that she had to slide to a stop and spin to face him. He was closing fast, both swords raised to strike. She readied herself for one final attempt at defense.
As Mattias rushed in for the kill, blinding light erupted in the air between them. Verena threw herself to the side, covering her face with one arm.
Crimson flames blasted the air above her, and Mattias cried out in pain. He’d leaped through the light, swords slashing after her, but the flames seized his arms and wrenched them back. His swords tumbled to the snowy pavement with a muffled clatter.
Then the snow whipped around Mattias, sealing him in a column of ice from toe to neck.
Connor landed next to Verena, riding a column of mixed elements, and cried, “Verena! Are you hurt?”
Relief made her weak and she sagged against the cold paving stones, savoring the fact that she wasn’t dead. Tension melted away and she laughed before she could decide to cry.
“You arrived half a heartbeat before too late. Help me up.”
Connor lifted her easily to her feet and pulled her close. She clung to him and tried to banish the terror of the last several minutes. She’d survived. He’d survived. They were both okay. Connor’s arms quivered, rattling their armor a little.
“Are you all right?” she asked, touching h
is face.
“I nearly lost you.” His voice shook, and she loved him for the depth of emotion he didn’t try to hide. She kissed him, drawing strength from his presence. He grinned and added, “But you’re fine, Merkland is safe from the porphyry bomb, and I finally figured out how to stabilize my affinities.”
“Wow. You’ve been busy.”
Before she could ask for more details, Mattias shrieked, “You filthy Builder witch! You will die, along with all other abominations!” He struggled vainly within the ice, face twisted with rage.
Verena sighed. “I hate what Dougal has done to him.”
Connor said, “I’m just surprised Kilian hasn’t killed Dougal already. He must have used some kind of trick.”
“He does that,” Verena agreed. She stepped closer to Mattias and placed a hand on the ice. He tried snapping at her fingers, but couldn’t hope to reach. “What can we do for him?”
Mattias suddenly calmed, his expression fading to complete neutrality. Verena exchanged a worried look with Connor.
Mattias spoke, his voice calm and haughty, just like Dougal. “Bring this waste of an Allcarver to the southern edge of town or I will crush his mind right now.”
“What do you want?” Connor demanded.
“An exchange, of course.”
“What sort of exchange?” Verena asked, but Mattias did not respond. His eyes closed and he seemed to have fallen asleep.
“Just like Aifric,” Connor muttered.
“Should we go?” Verena didn’t want to do anything Dougal said, but simply defying him could cost Mattias his life.
“Kilian’s there. I can’t imagine Dougal has defeated him, but something’s afoot. We have to go that way anyway to get back to Hamish. Let’s find out what’s going on.”
She took his hand and together they headed south, with Mattias sliding along the street behind them, sleeping in his icy prison.
But Verena kept her sword out, just in case.
95
With Great Power Comes Great Awesomeness
Ivor rose to the surface of the river and slid toward the bank closest to where Kilian faced Dougal. They could no longer delay. With Harley impossibly risen again, full scale battle joined between Rory and the main Obrioner army, they needed to defeat Dougal and join forces to stop Harley.