Shepherd's Wolf

by M. Andrew Reid

  Viper wrapped the cord around his wrist and pulled back hard. The dragon screeched and raised her head, driving them higher into the air

  The trees swept by beneath them; the harsh, powerful wingbeats calmed. Soon, the only sound came from Christine’s booster wings. Her primary wings were held out stationary, making tiny adjustments. It felt and sounded like he was sitting on top of a Cessna.

  Viper examined the mountain as they spiraled ever higher. It was easy to see the lines of the Agilar embedded in the rock. The ship was bigger than anything he had ever seen before. A part of the ship extended up to the icy peak- a fin or a mast covered in a gray mix of stone and ice. At the mountain’s very top, this part of the ship jutted from the rock - almost completely covered in snow.

  Cold air bit at Viper’s face when Christine wheeled into the wind and faced the mountain. They continued to climb as the mountain loomed larger. A flash of yellow beneath them became Fletch. The yellow hawk soared effortlessly mere inches from icy cliffs.

  The droning abruptly stopped and Christine flared her wings, descending in silence. Wind kicked up a fine mist of powdered snow and shrouded the peak in a white blur. Viper could faintly see the door as they approached. It was a twin to the entrance far below them at the base of the mountain.

  Roaring filled his ears again as Christine glided toward a flat patch of rock. Her booster wings tore at the air and lifted swirling clouds of snow. Their rapid descent slowed until Christine was hovering inches off the ground. The roar subsided, and there was a lurch as they dropped. Flying snow drifted back to earth in a shimmering cloud.

  A glaze of ice covered the door and the keypad that would open it. Viper wasted no time, quickly blasting the ice off with a few bursts of dark energy. After punching in the keycode, he was rewarded with a green light and a pleasant chime.

  The door slid open, and a rush of warm air slammed into him. A dimly lit tunnel descended into the mountain. Fletch buzzed past- quickly swallowed by darkness. Viper looked back at Christine, nodded in thanks, and dove into the mountain.

  Room 5: Dry Storage

  “We have to fight in this room,” Bishop explained as the door opened. “The exit will not open until we kill both enemies.”

  “Only two?” Wisp scoffed.

  “Two load-lifters,” Bishop replied. “They are...”

  “Giant. Robot. Spiders.” Haymaker interrupted. Somberly, he pointed out into the gloom.

  This chamber, a large warehouse, dwarfed any room they had entered previously. Colossal stacks of boxes filled the facility. Crates that could hold entire houses loomed in the dim light. Moving among these crates, and moving them from one place to another, were two monstrous mechanical spiders.

  Each spider leg was equipped with a grasping claw and a suction pad that would grip the side of a crate. The pads crackled with a loud HISS-POP each time they engaged, with the POP echoing back and forth throughout the warehouse. After picking up a box, the spider would stomp over to an adjacent pile of boxes and set it down. There was no apparent purpose to these moves, but the spiders performed them diligently.

  Haymaker swallowed hard, “When I was a kid, I woke up one night and saw a big spider in the corner of my room. He watched me with his beady eyes; staring into my soul. I took my shoe and threw it as hard as I could, but I missed. The spider ran away, but before he disappeared under my door he looked back, his eyes filled with hate, and said, I will remember this...”

  “That’s enough,” Athena sighed. “We need to move quickly. How do we kill them, Bishop?”

  “Limerick says he and Pierce shot at the eyes while Myrmidon and Iceblade took out the legs one at a time. Then, they fired power shots into the heads once they were down.”

  “And nobody got hurt?”

  Bishop shrugged, “They got hurt bad enough to need to stop in the next room, but they had Nevaeh with them.”

  “Who’s Nevaeh?” Laura asked.

  “A healer - probably the best in the game.”

  “But you are good healers too, right?”

  Athena laughed sadly, “I can heal myself and a few scratches on someone else.”

  “I can take care of moderate wounds,” Bishop added, “but not the sort of damage that these spiders can inflict. Someone with a bucket and mop would be more useful.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Laura’s eyes rested fearfully on Ben and Gabe.

  “We’re going to take them out,” Haymaker was unusually serious. “Wisp, follow me.”

  Alarms screeched when they exited the elevator; strobe lights flickered up and down the long aisles among gargantuan cartons and containers.

  The spiders swung their massive heads and focused glowing eyes on the intruders. Containers crashed to the floor as both monsters scrabbled quickly over them. Mechanical screams that tore at the heart poured from the behemoths.

  “Let’s do them one at a time,” Haymaker puffed as he ran. “I distract one, you kill the other.”

  Haymaker charged forward to meet the spiders head-on. He fixed his shield to his left arm as he sprinted. A spider’s leg flicked out at him, slamming into the raised shield. Haymaker rolled with the impact and regained his feet.

  Now, the spiders clutched at him furiously, nearly bumping into each other. Haymaker darted and blocked, using his shield to batter away the claws when they came near. He hid behind containers as the spiders tore at him. Mountains of boxes crumbled under the weight of the scrabbling spiders. Haymaker ran deeper into the warehouse, turning the spiders so that they faced away from his friends.

  When the spiders were thoroughly distracted, Wisp clambered up a pyramid of boxes and pounced onto a metallic knee. With the grace of an acrobat he darted up the leg and ran across the monster’s back. The spider screamed and twisted its legs upward, grasping at Wisp as he ran across the hard abdomen toward the head.

  Athena attempted to provide some support, but when her arrows hit, they clattered off the metal hull in a series of plinks and thunks.

  Athena growled, “I’m not doing any damage. I can’t pierce this armor.”

  Ben dropped off Gabe’s back and ran over to Athena, “Give me an arrow!”

  “What?” Athena was startled.

  “Hurry!” Rather than wait, Ben reached forward and pulled an arrow out of the quiver. He dropped to his knees and worked the steel arrowhead off the shaft. He discarded the arrowhead and glanced up at Bishop, “I need some gold!”

  Athena sputtered, “Gold is softer than steel. That’s not going to help.”

  Ben ignored her and caught the coin that Bishop tossed to him. He reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out a glittering chunk of metal. Placing the metal shard in his hand with the coin, he squeezed.

  Ben’s hand became bright red and erupted in smoke and steam. He dropped a glowing ember on the floor and pulled tongs out of his belt. The ember spattered as he held it against the floor with the tongs. He raised his hammer in his left hand and struck it rapidly, quickly turning the tongs as the hammer chattered in a storm of sparks. On the final blow he shouted, “Piercing FLAME!”

  A cloud of acrid smoke and a flash of light blinded the party briefly. When their sight returned they found Ben rapidly screwing a glowing arrowhead onto the shaft he had taken from Athena’s quiver. The head was long, sharp, and narrow.

  Ben explained excitedly as he worked, “This will punch through anything but won’t damage a normal target much. It’s too thin and it just passes through anything that’s not metal. Make sure you save some of your old arrows for later.”

  Ben held the arrow out proudly. Athena reached for it, but Ben drew it back, “Never touch the head. It’s always hot.”

  “I won’t,” Athena took the arrow and grinned, “Thank you, Shepherd.”

  The Huntress dipped the arrow into her Endless Quiver, converting the others into new arrows and insuring she would have an unlimited supply. She knocked it to her bow and drew back. The arrow hissed away, trailing a strea
m of smoke.

  There was no plink or clank when the arrow struck home. Instead there was a brief squeal as the glowing tip punched into the thick metal. The arrow penetrated down to the fletching before coming to a stop. A lazy trail of smoke drifted from the impact hole.

  More arrows flicked out in a smoky fusillade. The spider screamed and turned away from the annoying flies pecking at its skin. It shielded itself with two legs, briefly forgetting about Wisp scampering across its back.

  Wisp raised Ramar’s Fang and the Spark Katana high in the air, and brought them down swiftly. The blades sank deep into the spider’s armored hull.

  A shriek of pain filled the warehouse, and the monster shuddered violently. Wisp was thrown off his feet, and he slid down the smooth abdomen before tumbling to the floor far below. His blades clattered to either side.

  The stricken creature staggered about, purple fluids bubbling from the wound in its head. Drunkenly it stamped at Wisp, who rolled across the floor as the claws slammed behind him.

  Haymaker kept the other spider’s attention, turning aside blow after blow from the huge metal claws. The shield rang with each strike, but Haymaker was as immovable as a rock.

  Wisp rolled to his blades and regained his feet. The injured spider wobbled as it tried to smash him. Stinging arrows no longer bothered the monstrosity it as it focused on feeble attempts to catch Wisp.

  Athena walked her stream of arrows to the legs, and one by one the spider’s legs collapsed under its massive weight. Soon it was reduced to two working legs, both of them clattering on the floor around Wisp.

  The Bandit raised his blades and sank them into the spider’s head again and again. The creature shuddered with each stab until finally it lay completely still. Wisp stepped back to admire his work.

  “Good job!” Haymaker yelled from across the warehouse. “Now, do this one.”

  Wisp turned to the group, motioning for Athena to follow him, when his face fell.

  Bishop glanced back to see the door sliding open behind them. Inside the elevator was a platoon of security bots- the leader with his crystal sword and at least four of the rocket-launcher tanks.

  Bishop quickly threw a blue gossamer shield over the door, trapping the robots inside.

  “Intruders!” The leader did not appear interested in expanding its vocabulary. Robots shouldered against the blue shield without effect. As long as the shield held, the bots would stay in the elevator.

  “What do we do?” Athena gasped as the group ran from one danger toward another.

  “Keep going, wait at the exit door.”

  “It won’t open if we don’t kill the spider,” Athena protested.

  “Just go!”

  The group ran down the wide central aisle of the warehouse. Gabe dragged his wounded leg as fast as he could. Laura struggled to keep up with the others, turning back fearfully every few seconds.

  Bishop stayed behind, keeping an eye on the shield covering the elevator door. The barrier flickered; it was beginning to fade.

  “Bring the monster over here!” Bishop waved at Haymaker, who was still fighting the spider several aisles over.

  The battle had destroyed many crates, and the warehouse was littered with strange produce, electronics, and what appeared to be plush Agilus dolls. Haymaker picked his way over this debris as he taunted the enormous spider toward the main aisle.

  With a pop, Bishop’s shield broke. The robots scrambled out of the entry door, and accelerated toward Bishop. He stood unmoving, the Guardian Mage, between the approaching foes and his friends.

  Rocket launchers roared, and five red missiles rushed at Bishop, streaking down the main aisle. He briefly mused that rockets were not very practical weapons to use for security on a starship. What if they hit a wall and blew a hole into the side of the ship?

  Haymaker darted across the aisle in front of Bishop - a blue and silver flash. The spider was at his heels, clutching at its slippery foe and thundering into the aisle.

  Explosions rippled across the legs and body of the spider as missiles tore into its flank. It stumbled briefly and its shattered legs gave way. The monster slowly got back up, with two legs twisted and blackened. A huge head and glowing red eyes turned toward the security bots.

  “Let’s go,” Bishop called to Haymaker and the pair ran for the exit.

  Stricken, the spider roared at the security robots and charged forward. Another salvo of missiles blasted into the giant spider’s head. It bounced off a stack of containers and skittered sideways.

  The security team leader rushed forward, rolling under the spider’s stomping legs. It held the crystal sword in one hand as it clanked toward Bishop and Haymaker. Its movements were graceful and smooth - at odds with the racket it made.

  In moments, the robot was upon them - looming tall. The crystal sword flashed out, and Bishop swept it aside with this staff. Whistling, the sword sliced again, and this time Bishop’s staff parted into two neat pieces.

  A bishop head-piece rolled on the floor. Bishop raised the broken staff in futile defense. The robot drew back for another blow.

  In a sudden puff of smoke, Wisp was scrabbling over the robot. He flicked his wrists, and silvery wire wrapped around the outstretched sword arm.

  Wisp pulled on the two wooden handles at the ends of the garrote, pinning the raised arm to the robot’s head. Wisp stood on the broad metal shoulders, straining to keep the arm immobile. “Keep going!” He grunted.

  Bishop and Haymaker took flight. The robot roared and snapped the garrote with a twang. Wisp went tumbling, and vanished before he hit the floor.

  This briefly confused the security bot, but it soon turned its attention back to the exit door, which was still closed. The group huddled nervously against the door, like smokers gathered in front of an office building in winter.

  The robot charged again.

  A great scream filled the cavernous room, and with a tectonic rumble the spider collapsed. A rocket had struck something vital.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, the door began to open. Haymaker tried to force the door wider, but it took its own time.

  Hastily, the group shuffled in as the doors opened wider. Wisp reappeared and dove into the elevator. The robot pursued only yards behind Wisp. Its crystal sword was level and ready to gore through them.

  Bishop held out his hands and froze the robot in stasis. It was suspended in mid-step, the sword-point quivering outside the elevator threshold. There was a millennium of silence.

  The door closed nonchalantly. Slothfully, lazily, indifferently, the door closed; the immobilized robot staring at them with cold blue eyes.

  When the door finally slid shut, the group turned and looked at Haymaker. He was leaning against a wall, his huge frame shaking as he panted heavily. He shook his head when he realized they were staring at him, “No jokes this time. Too tired.”

  Room 1: Shuttle Bay

  Darkness gave way to blinding light as Viper neared the end of the tunnel. Fletch buzzed ahead and disappeared into the white ring that marked the exit.

  He peered out of the tunnel mouth and found himself three or four stories up. High ceilings vanished in the glaring lights. Stretched out beneath him were rows of some sort of spacecraft, arranged nose to tail. Basketball sized orbs with spindly arms hovered up, down, and among the spacecraft.

  At the far end of this cathedral of white, a swarm of robots were feverishly cleaning scorch marks from the walls and floors. Blackened chunks of metal were being whisked away. A single door stood in the wall, the focal point of the damage and debris. There had definitely been a battle, but who had won? Was he too late?

  “The shuttle bay,” Viper murmured. Fletch squawked an affirmative and dove into the light.

  Viper stepped back into the tunnel and sprinted through the opening light. He landed and rolled on the tail of the nearest shuttle.

  Immediately, alarms screamed.

  You must leave this area. You are contaminating the shuttles.

>   Viper ignored the voice in his head and hopped to the floor below. He ran for the door on the far side of the bay.

  Now, you have contaminated the floor. This is unacceptable.

  A chattering noise chased after Viper as he ran. He was soon surrounded by an army of crab-like robots.

  Lightning arced around him, and any crab brash enough to charge was zapped away. Dead crabs, blackened with curled legs, were quickly taken away by their comrades.

  Flying robots joined in, dropping from above before whirling away in a cloud of sparks and smoke. The swarm billowed; the zaps came at a steady pace as the throng pressed close to Viper.

  Soon, Viper disappeared in the mass of metallic aggressors. Fletch flapped overhead, unnoticed or ignored by the horde of robots. The hawk watched as a purple flash blasted away the robots in a sphere of twisted arms and cracked shells. Viper continued running as the swarm receded slightly before surging back over him.

  This process repeated several times before Viper reached the door - the bots would rush in, probing and scratching at his armor, and he would blast them away.

  When the door opened, Viper stepped inside the elevator. The robots lost interest when he crossed the threshold, and proceeded to tidy up the broken bits of their fallen brothers. Fletch fluttered in and sat on the top of Viper’s helmet; he was heavy. Viper sighed with relief as the doors shut.

  Room 2: Waste Disposal

  Heat and noise ripped into the elevator as the doors opened again. A hazy smoke choked out most of the light. Viper’s eyes followed the conveyors. The belts carried hunks of material to machines that crushed and burned and sliced. He looked down into the depths of the haze, wondering if the party had fallen to their doom.

  Fletch squawked and disappeared into the smoke. The hawk knew what he was doing, so Viper jumped onto the nearest conveyor.

  He rolled and ducked through a series of pounding pistons. The hawk perched on a rail on the other side, waiting for him. Fletch took off again, into the darkness. Viper followed.