by S. E. Akers
And getting kind of hungry, I confirmed after a rumble of my tummy. Thinking about Silas’ chicken had a lot to do with that, which inevitably made me revisit my fried-rice craving. I still wasn’t proud of it.
I’d just started to make my descent when a slight quake rippled under my feet. Another tremor rumbled the ground as I whirled around. Then another… And another… I hunched down behind a boulder and laid my fingers on its surface. The shockwaves were definitely growing stronger and heading this way. That eighty-sixed my plans for a humble and intact surrender. What bothered me more was the strength and speed of the mounting quake. Whatever its source, it was BIG. I remained hunkered down while I took a few stabs at the balegore’s size. I knew I had to look eventually, but part of me needed to coerce my pussyfootin’ mind into it. Suddenly the tremors stopped. It was out there somewhere. I could feel it.
Well, I did come in here guns blazing. I can’t run out with my tail the only thing on fire. How would that look in Braveheart’s eyes? After a resolute nod, I locked my hand around the handle of my hilt and sprang to my feet. Stunned, I spun around like a top in search of the creature, but there wasn’t a trace of the thing.
What the heck? It couldn’t have just vanished. Surely Tanner would have said if a balegore could turn invisible. I panned the treed basin again, but my eagle-eyes didn’t yield one fruitful thing.
I turned around to climb down when a building shadow slowly fell over me. I would have whipped around on sight, but my gut warned against it. The haze engulfed me, steadily growing and growing. Before I knew it, the mossy green and earthy brown terrain I’d been staring at seconds ago had eclipsed into gradients of dusky grays. That was bad, but the volume of space it encompassed was downright alarming. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear an 18-Wheeler had just pulled up behind me.
Oh yeah. Definitely hoodwinked…
The sound of heavy pants alerted my ears. I didn’t want to incite anything prematurely, not until I’d gotten a good look at this thing. So with that plan established, I started my slow and steady pivot. My eyes fell into a sharp focus while I looked dead ahead at what used to be a valley scene. The flourishing green landscape was now gone. All I could see were two rock-hard, blazing red mountains capped in patches of black—mountains of hairy & hulking muscle that is—throbbing steadily back at me. My eyes inched a staggering trail that started at its humanoid pectorals and ended at its stout neck. The lump sitting atop the brawny mound of flesh turned out to be equally as shocking. A frightful-looking, flat-faced and snout-sporting red mug lay directly above me. I would have jumped back if my knees hadn’t locked up already. A coif of mussy black tangles jutted out from its bullish head in all directions. My gaping stare then fell to its eyes. The two piercing orbs were the size of softballs and saturated in a curdling blood-orange hue. Jagged yellow streaks fanned from their black pupils like the points of a flaming star. And there the pair of eerie buggers stayed — fixated on literally “little” ole me. Far be it for a protégé to question their mentor’s information and what they felt was worthy of pulling out of their dossier, but a detail like “GIANT” should have been the first thing the asshole shouted out.
Without warning, the balgeore let out a long, ferocious roar. The rumble was so deafening I jammed my rattling fingers into my ears. I should have used one of my hands to cover my nose instead of muffling the noise because its breath was w-i-c-k-e-d horrible. A skunk bathed in onions would have been much more tolerable. I’d never smelled something that gagging in my entire life. Down to the ground I dropped, searching desperately for any fresh air to heave in. Mammoth-muscles and strength aside, this thing’s breath was its deadliest weapon. Next time, I was coming in armed with some supernatural Listerine.
Oh, I already knew I wasn’t winning this fight.
“I hear you’ve finally met my other guest,” Tanner called telepathically. “I was starting to think the two of you were napping in there.”
My eyes swelled. There were a million things I wanted to say to him right now, but I couldn’t…and he was well aware of it too.
“Remember, this is all about strength,” Tanner continued, “so try not to use your wand. Only as a last resort.”
Judging by the freakish extent of my opponent’s mouth, the only thing my wand could be used for was picking its teeth after chewing on my rear. So it was safe to say that I’d already abandoned that thought. Hearing him rub the damn fact in just annoyed me even more.
A rightfully nervous thought flashed in my mind. Dull teeth or not, please don’t let that thing be too hungry.
Without warning, the balegore curiously extended its hand. I flinched but stood my ground with my fingers wrapped around my hilt while I waited for any hints of aggression. The closer its stumpy digits came, the quicker I realized they were almost as thick as my Size-8 frame. If it weren’t for my diamond-hard skin, this thing could squash me like a bug. The balegore casually bumped its finger against my chest, which considering the creature’s strength, the poke actually felt more like a lead-pipe driven gut-punch. I fell back and landed straight on my butt with a wounded, “Owwww,” groaning from my mouth.
It leaned over and started sniffing me. The bad-breath I ignored. I just prayed it didn’t think I would make an even heartier meal than its diet of measly chickens.
Well, I wasn’t planning on being anything’s other-white-meat anytime soon. When the balegore moved closer, I swung my fist smack in the center of its shiny snout. The creature pulled back in a sneer, though the move wasn’t that quick and the gesture not that dire. Frankly, it looked unfazed…and in a way, kind of bored. The next thing I knew, the balegore turned around with a snot-spraying gust and then started tromping away.
I averted my head with a shake, taken aback by the creature’s obvious disinterest. Did that thing just dismiss me with a damn snort? I rushed to the edge of the rocky cliff, feeling a bit spunky and a whole lot ticked.
I slammed my foot down hard. “Hey!” I hollered. The balegore glanced back my way but seemed more interested in the rocks I’d dislodged from my stomp. The creature kicked one that had rolled its way and then turned to head back into the trees.
It wasn’t scared of me at all, not in the least. I could already hear the laughter streaming from Tanner when I gave him a full recap of how my first voluntary rumble with an immortal beast had gone down. I’d been passed over like a daggone Yuletide fruitcake. How freakin’ pathetic!
And that wasn’t happening.
With a forceful leap, I jumped down off the cliff. The balegore stopped at the edge of the tree line and turned around. It didn’t approach. It didn’t growl. It remained right where it was, passively mocking me with its eyelids slanted to a close. Now it was just being rude.
I charged towards the beast while my fists rocked to the beat of my stormy steps. As soon as I was close enough, I pulled back my arm and then drove my knuckles into its shin. My arm jarred upon contact. The force that bounced back planted me down on my ass — again. I hadn’t felt one of my shoulders aching this bad since getting shot with that diamond-dusted iron bullet last year. I looked up at the balegore in the midst of my throbs. It still wasn’t interested in fighting me. I was in pain, but I felt way madder.
I hopped up again (maybe not as quick), and started hammering it with swift punches like I was beating a heavy boxing bag instead of a brick-hard limb. I’d barely been at it for a minute before I had to stop because I was inflicting more pain on myself. Winded, I took a step back and stared at my lukewarm opponent. The only response I’d triggered was the beasty giant taking its meathooks and shooing me away with a push. And it wasn’t even a hard one at that.
Seeing the balegore heading off on its way sort of made me come a bit undone. I whipped out my hilt and extended the wand in a feisty twirl. “HEY!” I yelled. The creature had no sooner turned around when I drove my diamond blade down hard into its foot. The howl it roared out was bone-chilling. Corpses within earshot had to be st
anding at attention and rallying salutes right about now. And the look on its face? Trust me… Pissed would have been a much friendlier sight.
Oh no…
Before I knew it, the balegore had snatched me up in its tight-fisted clutch and was charging through the forest. Almost every swing of the monster’s mad strides matched the number of trees I got smacked with. I didn’t think the conks were ever going to end — until they did. After one abrupt stop and then a powerful pitch not a split-second later, my ragged frame was careening towards the door of the chamber.
I soared through the containment spell and crashed into the stone wall lining the hallway face-first. My limp frame dropped to the ground in a haze of gritty debris. Blood pooled in my mouth, and I tasted every ounce of its bitter metallic tang. My senses were starting to come back around when I spied something small and white lying on the floor roughly a foot away.
My eyes shot open. “Is that my TOOTH?” I gasped, raking my tongue fearfully across every single one of my choppers — twice.
With the judicious strides of an umpire, Silas swiftly marched over to render an official ruling. He scooped up the speck and eyed it with a diligent squint. “Heaven’s no. It’s just another one of your pesky buttons,” he announced gleefully. “Tell me, Ms. Wallace, have you considered limiting your wardrobe to those cozy sweatshirts you were bragging about? Less collateral damage?”
A thick stream of blood plopped out of my open mouth while I stared sorely back at him.
“Ah, well . . . It was merely a suggestion,” Silas remarked with a frivolous shooing of his hands.
I collapsed back onto the floor, though I laid my aching jaw down carefully. It still throbbed with terrible pangs, regardless of my thoughtful effort. I didn’t think I could will myself up either, not between the cold stones easing my aches and the gloating look I knew I would spy on Tanner’s face. One of my ears wasn’t muffled. His “I told you so” would come through loud and clear enough.
Silas lent the hallway a huff. “Do you think she’ll get up today, Professor . . . or should I go ahead and fetch a wheelbarrow?”
Oh, I wrestled myself up off the floor after that one. After all, what was a little more blood? My eyes stayed locked on the house steward, but my peripherals had Tanner well in their sights where he stood against the wall, postured in a casual lean. He simply cleared his throat and then nodded to Silas.
“Escort Shiloh back to the gym, so she can get started on her conditioning,” Tanner directed.
“Excellent choice, Sir,” Silas agreed, “ . . . especially now that she’s already broken in.” He extended a facetiously apologetic bow my way. “Warmed up, I meant to say.”
“After you finish with your duties of course,” Tanner added.
“But of course,” Silas concurred and strolled over to retrieve his feathery pet. The house steward approached the balegore’s cell and positioned himself in front of the door. “If you don’t give it back, I won’t serve your lunch,” he yelled into the cell while he held the chicken in plain view, giving it several shakes. Silas had no sooner cleared the opening when my diamond wand came sailing through the door and then dropped onto the floor with a harsh “clank”. After a quick pitch of the chicken, my new coach picked up my extended blade and served it to me just as sweet as he would a slice of apple pie.
“Here you are, Ms. Wallace,” Silas cooed warmly. “I saved you the trouble of getting it back.”
I gently reclaimed my wand from the stretch of his two palms. It didn’t require too much restraint — just no eye contact. He may have needed that needle and thread to sew a few of his fingers back on if I happened to witness so much as a delighted “ping” popping in his eyes. But there was no thank you, not this time. My stomach simply wasn’t that strong.
I straightened my stance with my weapon by my side, preparing for my first workout with my new coach, as well as the stroll I had to make past my mentor. Something told me that he couldn’t contain himself much longer.
“I just hope he knows the difference between ‘buff’ and ‘BUTCH’,” I huffed, my head straight as a rule and refusing to look his way.
A booming stream of laughter erupted as I passed him. I honestly hadn’t meant it as a joke.
I stopped straightaway, merely tilting my head back. “You do realize that my wand is still drawn?” I grumbled, my brow arched and head cocked.
“Oh, I do,” Tanner assured. “But I’m not scared of you either.”
Part of me wanted to pop him with a left jab, smack in his chuckling mouth. The other ended up forcing my whipped frame down the hall, so neither of my knees could make a sneaky showing to a particularly-prided body part. It seemed I’d just had an awful lot of aggression heaped onto the pile I’d already amassed. And I was looking forward to releasing some of it soon. But not in the gym with Silas. No, no. That I was saving for our first bout.
“Again,” Silas called out casually from behind the tent of his magazine.
My eyes made a fiery circle around their sockets. I’d barely gotten back on my feet before his last iron ball had come gunning for me. Yes. My new coach was sitting on a stool and flipping through the pages of Fine Cooking while he propelled iron balls out of a cannon-like contraption at me. I hated him…and THAT THING. Like all of my other attempts, I ended up losing my grip on the energy-draining ball no sooner than I’d caught it. The force alone toppled me back onto the mat like a daggone bowling pin. I was surprised the bastard didn’t actually yell out a “Strike!”
I stomped my foot down on the mat. “I wasn’t even ready!” I snapped.
Silas never looked my way. He simply gave his index finger a hearty lick and then used it to flip another page. “Opponents aren’t in the habit of extending forewarnings, Ms. Wallace, so you’ll not get one from me.”
My scowl hardened as I watched him ready the lever. Try and hit something you can’t see. I turned invisible and jumped out of the ball’s path just as soon as I’d heard the sound of its release. I may have been safely out of its initial track, but then the damn thing banked a sharp left and ended up pegging me straight in the hip. Down I went again, clutching my side and reeling in agony. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear he’d chipped a hunk out of my pelvis. My golden veil remained engaged, despite the pain. I couldn’t stand the thought of him seeing me this one-upped and whipped.
“I customized these balls specifically for you. They contain a core of lodestone, lapis lazuli, and golden topaz. When a lodestone is combined with any stone one claims, it will draw the alloy to you like a magnet. Playing hide and seek won’t work,” Silas vowed. “You’ll lose every time.”
More need-to-know knowledge… Another glaring reason I should be studying instead of in HERE, I grumbled.
Now visible, I wobbled to my feet and held up my hand with a heated push. “Just wait a second,” I blurted, hoping to beat his itchy trigger-finger before another jerk of the lever. My hands pressed against the tops of my legs as I bent over, desperate for a decent breath.
“I still don’t see how this helps me one bit,” I groused, winded.
Silas lowered his magazine. “Tell me, Ms. Wallace . . . Which hits harder? The cannonballs or the balegore?”
That was a no-brainer. “The balegore.”
“Precisely,” he sang. “Therefore, you need to practice holding your own after a walloping punch. This is the most efficient and safest way.”
“I suppose,” I muttered.
“And it’s quite entertaining.” That he didn’t say out loud, but his brainwaves sure came through as clear as a bell. And he’d meant for me to hear his latest crack too. The slope of his smirk was a dead giveaway.
I didn’t realize how much of a vindictive side I had until that precise moment when I blasted his magazine with a directed gust, rattling its pages. A few of them even got ripped out in the fire. I really hadn’t intended that. Who knows? It could’ve very well been a little of Bea busting out.
Silas collect
ed his pages and stuffed them back inside the crumpled magazine. “I’m surprised at you, Ms. Wallace!” he chastised. “You are aware of who prepares the meals around here. I might decide to serve up something extra-juicy if that spit-fire attitude doesn’t extinguish itself quickly.”
I reined in my temper with a huff. One, because I’d already worked up a hellacious appetite, and two, because I could totally see him doing it. And I doubted he would even hide the evidence either.
Oh, yeah… He’d ladle that loogie front and center and then top it off with a daggone festive spray of parsley. So for the sake of my stomach, I nodded and smiled compliantly.
“Ah, I see my suggestion has marinated nicely in that head of yours,” he beamed and then prepared his hand on the lever. “Now . . . Again.”
My torture ended two hours later when Silas left to prepare lunch. I lay on the mat feeling like a steamrolled mess of complete physical exhaustion. The only thing I lacked was a couple of wide squiggly lines striping my chest like a set of tire-tracks. Two to three hours — EVERY DAY, I repeated. Right now, I would gladly take my chances with a daily beating from the balegore. At least it wouldn’t add insult to injury by talking back.
Tanner strolled into the room a few minutes later. “I see it went that good,” he grinned.
“If you’re here to gloat, it won’t do any good,” I stated. “I’m too numb to feel anything.”
Tanner knelt beside me and tilted his head. “Can you even get up?” he asked, eyeing my frame like fresh road-kill.
I honestly couldn’t. “No. I think he actually beat some of the iron into me,” I groaned.
“That sound’s about right.” My mentor slid one of his arms under my knees, and the other he curved around my back. “Come on,” he insisted and lifted me up. “Let’s see if we can’t get you walking again.”