Polychrome

by Ryk E. Spoor

  “Ohhhhh, crap,” she heard Erik say.

  From the shadows within the canyon-like pass emerged a monstrous figure. It was humanoid but stood over fifty feet tall, eyes glowing a venomous yellow, skin rough and grey and stony, a shock of black hair cascading greasily across the immense shoulders. The mouth was filled with sharp, misshapen teeth, and tatters of rich clothing were draped across the mostly-naked form, clinging as though they had been stretched across something vastly too large for them.

  “YOOP! YOOP! YOOP!”

  It raised an immense spiked mace whose head was more than ten feet across and roared, “YOOOOOOP!” Then it fixed its eyes on Polychrome’s little group.

  “That,” Ruggedo said dryly, “is considerably larger than I had heard Mr. Yoop to be.”

  “That,” Erik responded, eyes still fixed on the approaching monstrosity, “is what happens when you were the abusive husband of a Yookoohoo that gains enough power to teach you a lesson. The way he’s walking, he’s awfully solid, not just pure magic. I can hurt the hell out of him if I get there…but that damn mace could do me in.”

  “Could do any of us in, I suspect,” Zenga said. “But perhaps his size will slow him down.”

  Polychrome took a deep breath, preparing herself. She shuddered as Yoop’s eyes met hers. His expression had shifted slightly, and the hunger in those eyes was nothing she wanted to imagine.

  The Yoop roared again and whirled the gigantic mace in a blur that made Zenga’s hopes of slowness seem nothing but feeble, wishful thinking. It paused for a moment, studying them with a dull cunning.

  And then the monster charged.

  “Great, now I have to fight an armed King Kong. Where’s Godzilla when I need him?” Erik leapt up and delivered another earthblow, sending out a shockwave to kick the giant Mr. Yoop off his feet. Polychrome and the others fanned out to take him from either side when he fell.

  But with shocking agility, Yoop hurdled the earthshock wave, leaping over it like a runner clearing a two-foot bar, landing and swinging down with the massive mace at the same moment. Erik barely dodged out of the way and fell, knocked down this time by the shockwave created by that huge mace. Zenga pitched a boulder the size of Yoop’s head at the giant, but he caught the stony missile with one hand, threw it back. The Penitent was down near his feet and Yoop gave a pained growl as the battlestaff cracked against his ankle, slowing his next movements.

  Polychrome ran up through the clear air and cut at Yoop’s head; the parrying blow of the mace nearly knocked her from the sky, and that was a hasty blow, barely in time, without any force to speak of. She was forced to back off, trying to dart in but finding that even with her Sky-Faerie speed she was just not quite able to get through. Whatever they’ve done to him, he’s no longer a giant, he’s not even an elemental or Faerie; he’s a monster with powers such as we’ve never seen before!

  The next few minutes were a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and pain. Yoop leapt in a thunderous ballet, bringing feet down to crush, swinging mace in a path of destruction, stopping and whirling to prevent any from approaching him too closely. Erik was barely able to keep out of the way; even though he was able to cut through the magical mace with his own sword, it carried such impact that the mortal was hammered to his knees by the slightest touch of the weapon. Zenga was no faster than he, and her strength did not make her invulnerable. The Penitent could only evade and strike, hoping — though such hope seemed terribly forlorn — that in time the small painful strikes would wear him down.

  And this is the weapon they sent with their smaller force. What abominations are waiting for us at the Grey Castle? Polychrome didn’t know what she could do. She had managed three cuts — the merest scratches against something like Yoop — and those only when the monstrous Giant focused its attention on one of the others. Never could she get near any vital areas.

  And then it happened.

  Zenga, hefting another gigantic missile, stumbled the slightest bit. But it was enough to slow her, to make her unable to drop and dodge, as the giant spiked mace whipped around towards her.

  And — as Polychrome knew all too well — the supernal strength granted by the Pearl did not come with invulnerability.

  At the last possible split second, another figure barreled in, shouting “ZENGA!” With a desperate shove, he sent the dark-haired Princess tumbling to safety twenty feet away.

  But that put Erik Medon directly in the mace’s path, and with not even a fraction of a second to do more than see the weapon come down.

  For a moment, everything seemed to exist in a dreamlike slowness; she saw the monstrous spike-covered weapon hammer down on top of Erik, crushing him into the very rock beneath like a fly being smashed under some immense fist. She heard herself scream his name, felt horror rise in her, and looked up to see a wide, gloating smile on the face of Yoop.

  At that smile something else rose, a storm of cold silver fury. She heard a choir of voices deep and hard around her and the call of horns and drums resounded from the Spheres. It swept up the horror, made it part of fury and pain and drove her forward. Running on air as she had never done before, she kicked the giant’s knee so hard that he roared in pain. Then she dodged his grasping hand, ran up his arm, and delivered a roundhouse swing of her shield that smashed alongside his head as though driven by the giant’s own strength.

  He staggered, his roar now confused, but there was no thought in her of mercy, it was far too late for that. It was time only for Judgment, and the cold silver voices echoed the fury that redoubled every time she saw the crushed stone beneath the mace Yoop no longer held.

  She was off his shoulder, behind him, and drove her sword in, deep, deep, and his roar was a scream now, a cry of fear. Fear spun him around faster, hand lashing out, catching at her.

  Now she heard laughter, cold and bitter, and a part of her shivered to realize that it was her voice, so chill and cruel. But the rest of her echoed that laugh, and her blade cut deep, cut through.

  Even as the Giant looked in slow-witted disbelief at his hand as it came away, she was up, up. She hammered into Yoop’s chin with all the strength this frightening, unstoppable rage had given her, then around as he reeled, with one final screaming kick, tears streaming from her eyes.

  With that blow, Yoop was driven face-first into the ground. He lay still, the blood pooling from his hand and then slowing, slowing.

  The Usurpers’ armies broke then, withdrawing before the charge of the Armies of Faerie, and she was herself again. Polychrome staggered out of the sky, running to the spot where Erik had been, crying, as Zenga rose looking at the same spot.

  The mace suddenly quivered. Polychrome’s sobs caught in her throat, halted by impossible hope.

  Something catapulted the gigantic mystical weapon away like a chip in a torrent, and a silver and blue crystal armored figure heaved painfully out of the crushed rock.

  Erik Medon looked around, slightly unsteady, but smiled at her. He smiled!

  She didn’t know, for a moment, whether she wanted to run and hug him, or slap him for scaring her so. “Oh, thank the Above… you’re alive. I thought…” she breathed, and heard Zenga saying something very much like it at the same time.

  “Ha,” Erik said weakly, but still with a pained grin. “Sorry about that, both of you… but remember, this place is about as magical as anything gets. And Yoopie there was using a really magical mace. So that looked pretty ugly to you guys out here, I’m sure — and looked pretty damn scary to me, let me tell you! — but since I made sure I was focused on my True Mortal defense, it really was sort of like being hit by a really big puffy hammer of styrofoam while standing on a very deep featherbed. Hurt some, from sheer impact, but didn’t break anything.”

  He stared over at Yoop’s corpse. “Who the hell did that?”

  “Princess Polychrome — single-handedly, in the end,” Nimbus said, coming up to them.

  Erik turned to stare at her. She blushed and shifted; inside, she felt an amaz
ing, roiling, totally incompatible mixture of pride, embarrassment, nausea, shame, and confusion. “What… How the hell did she pull that off?” Erik asked Nimbus, and then immediately turned back to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make that sound…it’s just that I was so worried about you getting hurt…”

  Those words brought a smile to her lips. “I was worried about that, too. And you. And I don’t know how I did it, I just…saw you and Zenga go down, and I got so…angry.”

  Erik muttered something under his breath with a grin, something that ended in what sounded like “…-hulk,” but Nimbus was speaking. “I told you, Princess; the power of the Above is in you and with you, if you find the key to unlock it. And, at least for those moments…you did. Nothing on that field could have stood before you, save perhaps only our Hero himself. It was well done; we have our undeniable victory, the enemy’s morale is badly broken, and there will be more than sufficient witnesses to make sure that they now understand that we have a True Mortal and other forces besides.”

  She tried to grasp what Nimbus was saying. The power of the Above? Hers?

  Nimbus nodded with a satisfied air. “Few were our casualties, given the circumstances. Our first engagement has gone well. Now the enemy must make their moves, but we have already dictated the course of actions, though they know it not.

  “All is arranged; only the final act of this dark play remains.”

  Polychrome Glory

  Chapter 45.

  “All went as expected?” Amanita asked brightly.

  Cirrus bowed to her, and Ugu restrained an ironic grin. He knew which part of the plan truly interested her.

  “All indeed, my Queen. Our forces — small though they were — fought respectably, but were well and truly routed, as we expected.” He glanced at Ugu. “Majesty, I must say again that your selection of Guph as our advance General was inspired. His reputation as a strategist is known, and they will attribute most of our later work to his doing.”

  “Precisely my intention. You are our most powerful weapon, Cirrus, but you only remain so as long as your existence remains a secret. But go on, tell us of the battle; we need this intelligence.”

  “They have given the overall command of the assembled armies, in terms of strategy, to Nimbus. Unsurprising, but formidable. However…he is not the true leader of the assault.”

  Oh no? Interesting. “Indeed? So who is the true leader?”

  Now Cirrus’ well-hidden nervousness became clearer in the stiff way he held himself. “Princess Polychrome Glory.”

  “Polychrome?” Amanita repeated incredulously, a disbelieving smile on her face. “That dancing little snip of a girl? The one I once kept as a pet canary for months? The one who barely escaped here with her life?” That high, chilling laugh rang out. “What in the world are they thinking, Cirrus dear?”

  Cirrus’ lips tightened, but only for a moment. “It devastates me to disagree with you, my Queen, but in the centuries it appears some…change has been wrought in her, perhaps even more recently, in the past year or so. For she spoke as a leader — no, as a ruler — to her troops, and they responded as though they were all of one will. This was one of the few true surprises of this engagement, reported to us by our select spies.”

  Amanita raised an eyebrow, then shrugged prettily. “Well, well, the little girl has grown up then? How charming.”

  “Go on, Cirrus. What other surprises?”

  “The leader of the Nome forces — under Nimbus’ overall generalship, of course — is the one we knew as the Penitent.”

  Ugu frowned, as did Amanita. The Penitent had been a thorn in their sides for centuries, and startlingly hard to pin down… “You say that we knew him as the Penitent. Does this mean we now have a name to put to that shadowed face?”

  “Yes, Majesties. General Guph met them face-to-face, and recognized the Penitent as none other than Ruggedo the Red.”

  “WHAT?” Now both exchanged much more serious glances. The average denizen of Faerie might not understand, but Ruggedo was the true King of the Nomes. Exiled he might be. Disavowed by his people. But the true and rightful ruler of a Kingdom of Faerie had powers of his own that, if he was to regain his place… “This is a much more serious matter. If Ruggedo survives, and has been given such respect…he may be close to regaining his kingship, and that would make the Nome Kingdom twice as formidable as it already is.”

  “I understand that, Majesties. However, if the remainder of our plans proceed, is it not true that this will be rendered utterly irrelevant?”

  “True enough. Go on, then.”

  “Perhaps not the least surprising was that yet another truly formidable warrior is with them: the girl who was travelling with the mortal.”

  It seems my enemy has been thinking in broad as well as deep strategy. What new move is this? “The Gilgad fighting-girl?”

  “That was our assumption — perhaps reinforced by his own words to others that were expected to reach our ears. Her true name is Princess Zenga…of Pingaree.”

  Comprehension. “His journey to that island kingdom had a twofold objective, then, one hidden within the other. It had not occurred to me…but now the strategy is clear. Pingaree throws in its lot with the Prophecy, and — in true royal style — prepares to capture the greatest prize of alliance possible by pairing their daughter with the greatest Hero of the age. Bold moves on both parts.”

  “Why, naturally, that makes so much sense now!” Amanita said with another laugh. “The royal and secret treasures of Pingaree would not be just handed out to others…but given to a Princess to accompany a hero, of course. You know,” she continued, in a contemplative fashion, “I always rather fancied the idea of a necklace of those three pearls, and here one’s being delivered. How thoughtful of them.”

  “Indeed, my Queen. We will request the other two for you…later.” It was a good idea to keep her believing that he was willing to please her — possibly from fear, possibly from still believing he might win her favor. This need only endure a few more weeks, perhaps even days.

  “After the finale? Yes, I think we will be in a position to make many…requests at that time.” She settled back in a self-satisfied manner.

  “Go on, General.”

  “She appears to have the Pearl of Strength; no, I would say she definitely has that Pearl, but gives no indication of having either of the others. This would fit with wise policy; give her the most powerful weapon, leave the realm its most potent defenses.” He glanced up. “Majesty, this does concern me in one way –”

  Ugu thought he knew what Cirrus was thinking. “The Pearl of Wisdom.”

  “Yes, Majesty. It surpasses belief that such a decision would not have been undertaken without consulting the Pearl; and it is well known that the Pearl has verged on oracular in its ability to foresee events and chart the best course.”

  “Your concern is well-founded, General, and it is wise of you to bring this to our attention. Yet it is of no major concern; My Lady, would you explain?”

  “How kind of you, My King.” Amanita crossed her legs and smiled seductively down at Cirrus. “Powers have limits — this is one of the basic tenets, yes? Well, the Pearls are creations of the Sea Fairies — perhaps their greatest creations — and thus quite formidable. Anything that happens within or immediately within reach of the sea is known to the Pearl, and much beyond it…as long as they remain unknown, or no power opposes them.

  “But here,” she swept her arms wide, “we are in Oz, far indeed from the sea, separated from the ocean by the most impassable desert and the great Barrier, and we — both myself and King Ugu — were quite aware, oh, very much aware, of the potential of the Pingarese. So for long the power of Oz has been set to fog the Pearl’s vision, and it cannot pierce that veil with any clarity, for even the Sea Fairies are not the equal of the power of Oz…or of the power of its rulers.”

  “I now understand, Majesty, and I thank you for making this clear.” He turned back to Ugu. “The vanguard
of their true assault was but four: the True Mortal Erik Medon, Zenga of Pingaree, the Penitent, and Polychrome herself.” He looked, with only slightly disguised fear, at Amanita. “I… I am afraid it was she who slew Yoop.”

  For a moment Amanita looked utterly shocked. But then, to Cirrus’ obvious surprise, she laughed. “Oh, now, that is a surprise…but a very pleasant one, a very pleasant one indeed, my General. I had hoped Yoop would die in this battle, but I had rather expected him to die at the hands of the Mortal. At the hands of a beautiful young girl? Ahhh, that is so very much more wonderful. Almost poetic. A shame his transfiguration made it impossible for him to appreciate the justice and the irony.”

  “As you say, my Queen,” Cirrus said, relief written large on his face, “yet it does make her a most formidable adversary as well.”

  “Surely, surely…but we are very much prepared for powerful adversaries.” Her smile was meant to be light and pretty again, but Ugu saw far too much of the shark in it. “And the more powerful she is, the more…use I will have for her.”

  Ugu saw Cirrus twitch the faintest bit at that; knowing how supremely well the other man played his roles, that reaction spoke volumes of Cirrus’ relationship to Polychrome…a relationship only peripherally discussed before. I must remedy that…but not in Her Majesty’s earshot.

  “Still, in the end, all has gone well. They have had their victory. They have shown off their True Mortal, to draw us into their trap, not realizing that now the trap is entirely of our own devising.”

  “In essence…yes, Majesty. Their victory was somewhat greater than expected, but that is not relevant to our actual goals.”

  “Excellent.” Ugu nodded slowly. “The pieces are all in place. The strategies have all been devised.

  “Only the endgame remains.”

  Chapter 46.