by Phil Tucker
Smoke billowed up into the sky with their screams, and one by one they emerged from the wreckage, their massive, bloated forms blackened and charred. They looked disoriented, unable to process what had just happened. Their leader – Mogr – was the least affected and the most furious. He screamed his rage at their fallen base and smashed his foot through what was left of one wall.
TWANG.
A bolt a yard long slammed into Mogr’s back. A direct hit! The enchanted diamond head sank at least a foot into the thick slab of muscle that ran down his side, causing the ogre to stumble forward with a grunt of surprise.
Falkon immediately began reloading the ballista, but while he did so Lotharia raised her scepter and called out, “From the heart of glaciers, blue-green to black, I summon forth the coldest shards and send them to attack!”
A rain of ice shards fell upon the ogres, who roared in greater extremes of anger and tried to cover their heads with their thick forearms. The ice didn’t do much damage – the equivalent of paper cuts, I’d guess – but it kept them off balance, reacting instead of identifying the source of the attack.
THWANG!
Mogr grabbed hold of the undead ogre standing by his side and hauled it before him. The next bolt slammed into its head, shattering the skull and causing the monstrosity to drop. Mogr shoved it away angrily and looked up, spotting Lotharia and Falkon.
Damn. So much for true love.
Mogr screamed an order in his thick, alien language, and pointed at the top of the wall. The other three ogres turned and focused on where my friends stood. As one, the ogres reached down and took up large chunks of rock from the rubble.
My turn.
I Double Stepped. Sweet darkness, and then I was crouched in the shadows beside the ruined stable wall, behind the four ogres. They towered over me, each at least ten feet tall and no doubt weighing over a thousand pounds. The stench had been cleared by the explosion and smoke, but the very air here was greasy and rancid.
No time to dawdle. I focused my magic and summoned my Death Dagger. It manifested in my palm, icy cold and flickering with its fell blue light, dropping my mana down to four.
The second largest ogre drew his arm back like a catapult, a massive chunk of rock cupped in his huge palm. I ran forward and past him, slashing inside his knee with my Death Dagger as I went.
The blade cut through the ogre’s thick, rubbery skin and I immediately circled around into the ogre’s shadow, where I tried to activate the second part of Double Step. Nothing happened—the shadow wasn’t thick enough. The ogre screamed in pain and shock and stared down at me in fury. Its arm whipped high overhead, but instead of launching its rock at the far wall it sought to hammer it into my head instead.
No, thanks. I threw myself forward into a desperate dive. A foot the size of a wheelbarrow caught me in the hip, lifting me off the ground and spinning me through the air. I bit back a scream, then screamed anyway when I hit the ruined stable wall, bouncing off and onto the ground.
The ogre that kicked me stepped over, rock raised high. My chest was locked up. I was completely winded by the blow, and the world was swimming. Then, without warning, the air between us filled with fog, a rushing, impossible cottony thickness that hid me just enough for the last part of my Double Step.
I dove deep, allowed the shadows to wash away my pain, and emerged high in the foggy air above the ogre’s shoulders. Gravity immediately yanked me down, and I activated Sabotage Defenses. My Death Dagger pierced the ogre’s hide, then ran all the way down the inside of its body, cutting through tough, fibrous muscle and ribs.
The ogre arched its back with a shriek and dropped its raised rock upon its own shoulder. I danced aside as the cinderblock-sized stone crunched to the ground, and then stabbed my Death Dagger into the back of the ogre’s leg.
The ogre collapsed onto its wounded knee. It still wasn’t done, however – far from it. Snarling, it wheeled around and grabbed me about the waist with shocking speed. Its fingers closed around my waist completely, and it yanked me into the air, right toward its open maw.
TWANG.
A bolt smashed through the front of the ogre’s face, snapping its head back and causing it to collapse to the ground.
Still it held onto me, squeezing ever tighter as it raised its free hand to yank the bolt free. Fear was squeezing me just as hard – what would it take to kill one of these? I sawed my Death Dagger into the inside of the ogre’s wrist, severing tendons like violin strings, and it let go of me, spilling me out onto the cobbles. I rolled to my feet, gasping, as the ogre tore the bolt free of its left eye and threw it at me.
The bolt turned in midair, hitting me crosswise across the stomach with ridiculous force and knocking me down again. I fell, tangled up with the bolt, and somehow, impossibly, the ogre sat up, then rose to its one good leg.
Fuck me. Level thirty was no joke.
With a roar it keeled forward, intent on body slamming me into oblivion. I grabbed the bolt, raised its head, jammed its butt into the dirt, and then completed my Double Step away at the last second.
I appeared inside the top room of the goblin tower, where I’d slain the dire bat. Gasping for breath, I reeled to my feet and ran out the door onto the battlements, only to throw myself back inside as a massive rock exploded against the inside of the parapet, sending shards in every direction.
“Lotharia? Falkon?” Shaking with the intensity of my emotions, I crawled to the doorway. “You guys—?”
“Fine!” yelled Falkon, wrestling a bolt into the slot. “Three bolts left!”
I jumped to my feet and ran out by his side. Lotharia stood at the edge of the wall, weaving her scepter in the air as she cast a spell I’d never seen before. The fog was lifting from the center of the courtyard. Three of the ogres still stood, and the sweet thrill of victory coursed through me at the sight of the dead fourth one – impaled on the bolt I’d levered up beneath it.
Mogr took up a rock the size of a chair with both hands, but before he could hurl it the dawn air was rent by a screeching roar. Everyone turned to stare at the top of the far tower as the wyvern rose into view, huge wings beating, claws scrabbling at the tower’s edge for purchase.
“There we go,” said Falkon. “Bolt ready?”
“Ready!” called Lotharia.
“Wyvern’s right on time. Fire!”
TWANG!
The bolt shot through the air and punched clean through the bicep of the smallest ogre, causing it to lose its grip on the rock it had raised and drop it on its head.
Mogr snarled, turned a complete circle, then a faster second one, and hurled his huge rock at us.
It’s ascent was mesmerizing. At first seemed to simply float toward us before speeding up with terrible accuracy.
“Take the helm!” screamed Falkon, drawing his blade.
“What? Where are you—?”
But he didn’t wait to answer. He took three short steps and hurled himself off the wall’s edge, blade raised over his head. “Death from above!” he screamed, and then brought his blade down right upon the rising rock.
The shattering crash that resulted was thunderous, and then Falkon was falling through the shards of rock to the ground far below.
“What? What the hell was that?!” I was furious, amazed, flabbergasted, but didn’t waste any time. I grabbed one of the two remaining bolts and slotted it into the long groove. I ran to the front and seized one of the wheels, where I strained to winch the huge wire back.
“Chris!” Lotharia’s voice was tight with fear. “The wyvern! It’s coming this way!”
“It’s supposed to go for the damn ogres!” I gritted my teeth and focused on turning the wheel. How had Falkon done this so quickly? Oh, yeah. Strength sixteen. Shoulders burning, I activated Adrenaline Surge. Immediately, the task became manageable; I worked the winch all the way back just as a huge
shadow appeared over me.
The wyvern beat its massive wings as it lowered down, huge claws extended to grasp me by the shoulders. Lotharia screamed and leapt aside, but I had other plans. I ducked into a crouch, grabbed the ballista by the back and dropped it all the way to the ground, aiming the bow-end right at the wyvern.
TWANG!
The bolt flew right at the wyvern’s pale stomach, but somehow, impossibly, the creature snagged the bolt right out of the air with one of its claws and snapped it in half.
“No fair!” I’d never even asked Falkon what the wyvern’s level was, but it was clearly way too high.
“Get out of there!” screamed Lotharia. “Run!”
The wyvern released the fragments of the bolt and screeched again, plunging its claws down toward me. Its wings blotted out the sky, covering me in shadow.
I Double Stepped right up past its snatching claws to appear in the gloom beneath its scaled stomach. I emerged from the shadows pressed right against its surprisingly warm body, and slammed my Death Dagger into its side.
The wyvern’s body went rigid as my blade sank to the hilt. It felt like sticking a needle in an elephant, but even needles could hurt. I held on to the dagger for dear life as with a ferocious blast of its wings it lifted up off the wall, and for a second I was terrified it would fly out over the ravine, leaving the castle behind.
Instead, it banked and fought for height, causing too much sunlight to appear for me to Double Step away. Only my ongoing Adrenaline Surge allowed me to hold on to my Death Dagger’s hilt, my weight once more forcing the blade to cut through the monster’s scaly skin, widening the cut to a foot in length, then two.
Surge was going to give out any second, though. I tried again and again to Shadow Step away, but the wyvern had turned, catching me in the morning light. I looked for something below to fall onto with Ledge Runner, but even with Astute Observer nothing presented itself.
We climbed higher and higher. Thick, jellied blood that steamed in the morning air was oozing out of the wound, but the wyvern couldn’t reach me with its claws and the couple of times it tried to snap at me with its beak it fell short. So instead it fought for height with each massive wingbeat, ensuring my fall would be fatal.
I flailed around, bouncing off its muscled side. I had to do something, come up with a plan – anything other than wait for Adrenaline Surge to give out. I stared down at the castle that was now easily fifty yards below. The wind whipped about me, pulling tears from my eyes, and in desperation I saw a chance.
I let go, causing the Death Dagger to disappear, and fell, dropping right past the wyvern’s left claw. The wind howled about me and my stomach tried to climb out of my throat. I fought the urge to kick and scream, and instead flipped around. I’d never gone skydiving before, and now I knew why: falling toward the earth at terminal velocity was fucking terrifying.
The castle raced up to meet me, remarkably detailed and vivid in what could be my last moments. I missed the curtain wall by a yard, falling along its inside, plummeting alongside the wyvern’s tower.
The shadowed side.
I completed my third Double Step with a scream and slammed into the world of shadows like a fat man cannonballing into a swimming pool. I burst right through, not even having the time to pick a destination, and emerged into a dark chamber I barely had time to recognize as Jeramy’s bedroom on the second floor of his tower before some kind of ward or protective spell seized me and hurled me back outside, phasing me through the wall and high into the sunlight above the bailey floor.
Thoughts scrambled by Jeramy’s anti-magic protection, I wind-milled my arms as I fell toward the wyvern stakes. I activated Ledge Runner out of complete desperation, and my feet immediately sought out the strands of spider silk Lotharia and the goblins had stretched out between the stakes at chest height the night before.
My feet ripped off to the side, dragging me down at a diagonal, and I hit the spider thread, causing it to bow beneath me and then snap a half-dozen stakes off their whittled bases. They spun and crashed to the ground, and then I hit the dirt and everything went dark.
19
“Hey, champ,” I said as Justin approached my table. Other inmates were fanning out through the room, or hesitating by the doorway as they searched the sparse crowd for their loved ones. “Big brother’s home.”
“You didn’t have to come.” He stood before me in his orange prison uniform, looking embarrassed and exhausted and defiant all at once.
“I know. Your arrest was just the excuse I needed to justify my coming back to Florida.”
He pulled out his chair and sat. Still wary. Still trying to figure out how to take my appearance. “You hate Florida. You always have.”
“Maybe it’ll grow on me this time.” I opened my backpack and pulled out a half-dozen comic books which I pushed across the table to him. “Here. Figured you’d lost track of your favorites. You still reading the X-Men?
“Seriously, Chris.” There was something vulnerable in his voice, something he tried hard to cover up. “I can handle this. Your paying for my new lawyer is already plenty. He says that even with the disaster emergency legislation I’ll only get hit with a first-time offense. Five years max. And even that we can fight.”
“You won’t get five years. I spoke to the lawyer too. I told him I want you to get less than a year and community service.” I leaned back on the rear two legs of my chair and studied him. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Right. Exactly. So why’d you come all this way? I’d have let you know if I needed you.”
“Seattle was getting boring,” I said.
“Boring? This coming from a pro-gamer living in a sweet apartment in Belltown? You get tired of the waterfront views and gamer groupies that quick?”
“Yeah, well.” I hadn’t grown tired of it. In fact, I loved my life in Seattle more than anything. Seattle was one of the few cities that hadn’t been touched by climate change or infrastructure collapse, or buried under a rising tide of poverty. “I guess I missed family. What? I can’t come visit and hang out for a while? This is perfect. You’re, like, a captive audience.”
Justin didn’t even chuckle. “Sure you can. But there are these things called omnis, you know? We could have talked any time. I’m fine. The attorney said that even if they try to pin Sam’s death on me they’ll get laughed out of court for lack of evidence.”
“Yeah? That’s great. And I’m not here as your attorney. I’m here as your big brother.” I leaned forward, resting on both elbows. “And I’m already here, so get used to it.”
I could see him wrestling with pride. With fear. His eyes glassed over with tears for a moment and then he rubbed them angrily with his sleeve. “Fine. But if you’re planning to stay at my place, I’ve only got regular Wi-Fi and I left my VR kit at college. So don’t get your hopes up about much gaming.”
“No worries,” I said. “I’m tired of all that gaming, anyways. I’ve heard people talking about something called ‘the beach’ and ‘sunshine’ and ‘the outdoors’. Might be fun to explore.”
He laughed weakly. “Fine. Anything as long as you stop with these awful lies.”
“Atta boy.” I reached out and ruffled his hair precisely because I knew it’d annoy him. “You’re going to do great, kiddo. Don’t worry. I’m going to make sure of that.”
“Yeah?” He looked away. “You said the same thing to Mom.”
That hit hard. I sat there, fighting the urge to lash right back, and instead forced myself to nod slowly. “Well, Mom got a tough deal. Didn’t help that she didn’t want to go get checked till it was too late. We’ve got a great lawyer and he’s working on this right from the get go, right?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But for how long? I found out how much he’s charging.”
“Whatever. I’ve got enough savings to see this through. And if it drags on? I�
�ll get some job down here. It’s probably about time I worked a nine-to-five like an adult.”
Justin shook his head, a sad smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad you’re here, Chris. Thanks.”
I wanted to give him a wink, or at least a confident smile, but my throat closed up and for a moment I didn’t think I’d be able to respond at all. “Of course. That’s what big brothers are for. We’ll make it through this together. There’s nothing I won’t do to make sure of that. You hear me?”
“Yeah,” said Justin, and his eyes filled with tears. “I hear you.”
I swam up through the pain into a world of screams, bellows, dust and blood. Falkon stood over me, blade held at the ready, shoulders heaving as he stared up at a blackened and battered Mogr. The massive ogre loomed over us both, a club the size of a tree in its hands. Everything hurt. It felt like after my car crash in high school, when we’d barely avoided hitting a truck by slamming into the crash barrier, giving me the worst case of whiplash from my neck down to my ass.
“Falkon,” I rasped.
“Finally. Get out of here. Go!” He shifted his stance, wide-legged and low, as if preparing to take a massive hit. I clawed my way up to sitting. Not enough shadow out here to escape.
Mogr took a step forward and Falkon bellowed at him, screaming his anger and defiance up at the ogre, blasting him with his Avalanche Roar. The very air before him shimmered with power, and for a moment Mogr hesitated, head rising, piggish eyes blinking in surprise.
Then the ogre leaned forward and showed us both what a real roar sounded like. Ropes of spittle flew from his maw, and I felt the volume of it deep within my chest as if I were standing too close to the speakers at a concert. Falkon staggered back, dismayed, and then somehow threw himself forward, moving faster than my eye could track, leaping straight up at the ogre to cleave down at his club. Headlong Charge and Throwback, maybe?
I wanted to just sit there, watch the fight, but I knew I had to get moving. I had to survive. I activated Adrenaline Surge, and sweet relief flooded through me. I leapt to my feet, pain and exhaustion gone, and surveyed the courtyard.