Land Keep

by J. Scott Savage

  He found his staff a few feet away and stumbled on wobbly legs to Kyja’s side, where she stood weeping over what was now no more than a pile of ashes. “My fault,” he croaked.

  “No.” She squeezed his hand. “Rhaidnan did what he had to—to restore his honor.” She turned to glare at the crumpled body of Zentan Dolan. “It’s his fault.” She looked like she wanted to kick him, but the zentan himself was little more than a dried husk—his body shriveled like a piece of fruit left out in the sun.

  He was like a vampire, Marcus thought. Kept alive by sucking away the strength of others. And Marcus had come close to becoming the same thing. The pull of the power had been so great. If Kyja hadn’t stopped him, he might have destroyed Farworld, thinking all the time that he was curing it.

  “We need to check on Master Therapass,” Kyja said.

  They started toward the staircase, when Riph Raph spoke up. “Hey, you two. I don’t think this guy’s completely dead.”

  Marcus heard what sounded like a newspaper crinkling in the wind, and turned to see the zentan’s body moving. His arms and legs—really no more than leather-covered sticks—writhed on the ground as though he were trying to get up. His eyelids flapped open and closed like window shades over his empty, black eye sockets.

  “That’s disgusting.” Kyja wrinkled her nose. “He can’t be alive. It has to be some leftover magic.”

  But Marcus wasn’t so sure. He didn’t remember most of what happened after he put on the gauntlet, but he did remember realizing that the zentan wasn’t human. “Stand back,” he said pushing her against the wall.

  The zentan’s body began to shake. His skull banged against the ground—teeth chattering. His chest swelled as though he were trying to breathe—once, twice—and then, with the sound of a dried squash cracking, ripped open. Wet, black gore poured from the dead man’s body. The glistening puddle pulsed on the stone floor.

  “What is it?” Kyja asked.

  Marcus shook his head. His body felt drained, but sensing something was about to happen, he readied his magic anyway.

  Out of the slime rose an obsidian demon with shoulders as broad as Marcus was tall, a horned head with a dog-shaped snout, and two tentacle-like arms that ended in coiled whips. At least twelve feet tall, the demon towered over Marcus and Kyja. Its legs—each as big around as tree trunks—ended in sharp hooves that struck sparks from the stones as it stomped against the balcony floor.

  “Ahhh,” it groaned, flexing its muscles. “It feels so good to be free of that limiting human body.”

  “Time to go,” Riph Raph called.

  Before Marcus could take a step, one of the demon’s tentacles slashed through the air, slamming him against the wall. His staff clattered across the balcony, and a burst of agony raged through his good arm.

  “Heal yourself now!’ the demon roared.

  “Leave him alone!” Kyja shouted.

  She ran toward the demon, but it wrapped an arm around her and held her over the edge of the balcony. Hanging hundreds of feet in the air, she screamed and struggled in its grasp.

  Riph Raph flew at the demon, hissing and blowing fireballs, but the demon slapped him away without even a glance in his direction.

  “Shall I drop her?” the demon asked Marcus. “Break her like you broke the Innoris a’Gentoran?”

  “No,” Marcus said. “Let her go. She didn’t do anything to you.”

  “On the contrary,” the demon said, “she ruined something I have spent over two hundred years working for. A quick death is too good for her.”

  The demon set Kyja back on the balcony. “You watched as what I wanted was destroyed. Now you can watch as I destroy your friend. I’ll do it slowly so you don’t miss a thing.”

  With Kyja safe on the ground, Marcus blasted the demon with a gust of air magic. It didn’t seem to affect it at all. “Is that the best you can do?” The creature sneered. “Killing you will be far too easy.”

  “Maybe you’d like more of a challenge,” said a voice from the stairway.

  The demon spun around as Tankum Heartstrong stepped onto the balcony. The stone warrior pulled his twin swords from the scabbards on his back. “Your Keepers were too easy. I got to use only my fists on them. It’s time I wet my blades.”

  “Go back to your pedestal before I reduce you to rubble, statue.” The demon looked away disdainfully. It stepped toward Marcus, and Tankum charged.

  So quick Marcus never saw it coming, the demon snapped its left tentacle, whistling through the air at Tankum. The warrior raised his sword to meet the attack, but the strength of the blow knocked him backward. Instantly the demon struck again with its other arm, this time aiming higher.

  Tankum ducked the second arm, spun around, and stepped inside the attack. He swung both swords at once at the demon’s neck. With surprising agility, the demon pulled away, but the right blade nicked its chest.

  Unhurt by the cut, the demon kicked its hoof, hitting Tankum in the side of the head. “Had enough fun yet?” the demon taunted as Tankum shook off the blow. “Quit now, stone head, and I’ll let you wet your blades on the girl.”

  “I’m just getting started,” Tankum said. He feinted left toward the demon then swung his right sword in an overhand blow. The demon countered with a strike of its own, but the warrior was waiting for it. In a blur of movement, he brought up his left blade and sliced off the tip of a tentacle.

  Dark, green gore oozed from the tip of the severed limb and smeared the end of the blade.

  Tankum held out his bloodied blade, taunting the demon as he called it forward with his other sword. “Come and get more, dog face. If I’m going to clean one blade later, I might as well clean them both.”

  With a cry of rage, the demon attacked with both arms. Tankum fought back, but it was impossible to fend off all the demon’s blows. A quick snap caught him on the back of his leg, sending him stumbling. Another wrapped around his left wrist, nearly pulling the sword from his grip.

  With blindingly quick strokes, Tankum fought back. His blades flew so swiftly, they were only a silver blur in the moonlight. Man and demon moved about the balcony in bounds and leaps—striking and parrying, ducking and feinting.

  Marcus tried to help, but his magic wasn’t strong enough to affect the battle. All he could do was stay out of the way, cradling his broken right arm to his chest. Master Therapass had told him how strong and fast Tankum was, but seeing it for himself took his breath away. Every time the demon seemed to have Tankum cornered, the warrior found a way out of it. His swords moved as though they were part of his body.

  He managed to hit the demon several times, drawing blood on more than one occasion. But for every blow that connected, the demon struck twice. Tankum didn’t bleed, but pieces of him chipped away at an alarming rate.

  Ducking a particularly fierce attack, the demon opened its mouth and sprayed something that looked like acid on Tankum’s left arm. Smoke rose from the stone, and his sword fell to the ground. Before he could retrieve it, the demon struck at his right wrist. Stone cracked, and the sword slipped from his grasp.

  In an instant, the demon wrapped the soldier in both arms and lifted him over its head like a child. “Time to see if rock can fly,” the creature boomed, walking toward the edge of the balcony, sparks flying from its hooves with each step.

  “Don’t!” Kyja screamed. She ran toward the demon, but there was nothing she could do. A second before she reached it, a blast of blue flame struck the demon on the side of the head, sending it spinning. It stumbled backward and Tankum dropped from its arms, hitting the ground with a thud.

  A bent figure limped onto the balcony, his long gray beard swaying with each step. The figure raised an arm, and another blast of fire rocked the demon. It roared in pain, shaking its massive head.

  “Looks like I have to get you out of another predicament,” Master Therapass said, a crooked grin splitting his seamed face.

  “What are you talking about?” Tankum said, getting to
his feet and retrieving his swords. “I’m always the one getting you out of trouble.”

  “Haven’t I told you a hundred times, magic over might?” Therapass said.

  “And haven’t I reminded you just as many that your magic wouldn’t be here if not for the might of my swords?”

  With a howl of rage, the demon charged both men. Tankum met the charge with his blades raised. The demon spit a cloud of acid, forcing Tankum to backpedal.

  “Too much for you?” the demon howled, battering the warrior with one strike after another, sending chunks of rock flying through the air.

  “Try hitting what you can’t see,” Therapass said. He raised his staff, and a fog of gray smoke surrounded the demon’s head.

  The demon whirled, teeth bared. “Time to finish you off, old man.” It lunged toward the wizard, snapping its arms like bullwhips. Therapass blocked the first two swings with his staff, but a kick from the demon’s sharp hoof got past his defenses and sent the wizard flying across the balcony. Blood streamed from Therapass’s shoulder.

  Tankum stepped in front of the demon as it tried to finish the wizard off. With one sword held cross-wise in front of him and the other behind his back, he whirled toward the demon. The spinning blades hacked at the creature’s arms, leaving no opening for it to strike back.

  “Now who’s saving who?” he called to Therapass.

  “Just letting you feel useful,” the wizard called, pulling himself to his feet.

  Forced backward by Tankum’s attack, the demon snarled something that sounded like, “Trigrk gra.”

  Eight black globes rose from its chest and flew at Tankum. He caught the first with his sword, shattering it into a thousand tiny drops that hissed as they landed on the ground. The second globe hit his right leg, burning a deep crater into it before he could slap the orb away with the edge of his sword.

  “A little help here!” he shouted, trying to keep track of the six remaining balls.

  “Right behind you,” the wizard said. He raised his fist and sent a handful of ice bolts that shot the globes out of the air.

  The wizard and the warrior attacked and parried with the demon, combining strength, cunning, and more than thirty years of fighting, back to back. But despite their best efforts, the demon held them off at every turn. Though green gore flowed from at least a dozen cuts and burns, none of them showed any sign of slowing the creature.

  But Master Therapass was beginning to weaken. Fighting against the unmakers appeared to have taken its toll.

  “Let’s finish this thing off,” he gasped, shooting a ball of fire at the demon’s feet. “So you can buy me dinner.”

  “I always buy dinner, you miser.” Tankum blocked a tentacle and attacked with a reverse spin. Even he looked like he couldn’t hold out much longer. Huge chunks of stone had been torn from his chest and legs, and he could barely move his left arm.

  The demon struck again. This time, Tankum’s response was too slow. The creature’s tentacle hit his left arm and ripped it completely off in a shower of dust and rock. Tankum’s sword fell to the ground.

  “No more playing,” the demon growled. Focused on Tankum, it never saw Kyja as she darted forward and lifted the heavy sword from the ground. She slipped under its guard and slashed at its unprotected ankles.

  With a howl of rage, the demon lunged for her.

  Using the trick Lanctros-Darnoc had taught him, Marcus summoned a swarm of glittering green insects that flew into the creature’s face, stabbing at it with venomous stingers.

  As the demon swatted them away, Tankum dropped to his knees and pushed Kyja to safety.

  The demon looked down, and Therapass blasted it from above with a bolt of lightning. At the same time, Tankum lunged up, driving his sword into its stomach.

  Gurgling in pain, the creature tried to pull the blade out, but the warrior twisted it, driving it deeper. With a howl of agony, the demon opened its mouth and lowered its head to bite Tankum.

  Therapass stepped forward, his fist glowing bright red as he slammed it into the demon’s face. It screamed, raised its tentacles high into the air, and exploded in a spray of black goo.

  “Mine!” Therapass and Tankum shouted together.

  Therapass looked at Kyja with a sardonic grin. “You saw the whole thing. Tell this rock head that I finished the demon off.”

  Tankum winked at Marcus. “The poor old fool’s eyesight is failing. Explain to him how I landed the killing blow.”

  Marcus and Kyja looked at each other wide-eyed and both burst into laughter.

  Chapter 50

  Graehl

  Keep your balance now. Lean more to the left. Find your center. Pivot.”

  Following Tankum’s advice, Marcus put more of his weight on his left leg and turned. They were in the small practice arena behind the tower. Tankum had been completely healed by Lanctros-Darnoc, and Marcus was feeling better as well. All around them, men and women sweated as they trained in the hot afternoon sun. Most of them practiced with swords much bigger than the one Marcus was using—but a few swung maces or shot arrows at practice dummies.

  “Can you feel it?” Tankum asked.

  Marcus nodded. The leather grip of the half-size sword felt good in his hand, and the weight no longer seemed like it was going to topple him over any minute. “But I’m not sure I can swing without falling.”

  The warrior hefted his own curved scimitar. “That’s where magic comes in.”

  “But I thought only wizards used magic.”

  Tankum winked and looked over his shoulder as though making sure no one was close enough to overhear him. “We let the spell-tossers think that so they don’t get cocky. But just because they can’t swing a sword without cutting off their noses doesn’t mean a warrior can’t enhance his skills with a little extra something. Watch closely.”

  He swung his blade—which must have weighed ten times that of Marcus’s—so quickly it was nothing but a blur. Now that Marcus was looking for it, he could see how the warrior enhanced his balance and speed with bursts of air and land magic.

  “Think you can do that?” Tankum asked.

  “I think so.” It came down to cutting wind resistance on the swing while strengthening his stance and arm through land magic. Concentrating on the balance, he whispered, “Air and land, foot and hand,” and swung the sword. The power and speed of his swing were so great he nearly fell over, but the extra land magic kept him upright.

  “Very good!” Tankum said, beaming at his pupil. “Keep that up, and we’ll make a soldier out of you yet.”

  “He’d make a better scholar,” said Lanctrus-Darnoc, who were watching from just outside the arena. “Although you’ve got a lot more studying to do.”

  Marcus turned and realized Kyja was watching from the other side of the arena wall. “Did you see that?” he called.

  “Very impressive,” she said.

  “You should try it yourself.”

  Kyja shrugged.

  Marcus puffed up his chest. “Maybe it’s more of a guy thing.”

  “Are you going to let him get away with that?” Riph Raph squawked.

  Kyja rolled her eyes and vaulted the wall into the arena.

  Marcus hoped she didn’t embarrass herself. Sword fighting was trickier than it looked. “Don’t get down on yourself if you don’t pick it up right away. It’s harder without magic.”

  “I’ll try not to do too badly,” she said, strapping on a padded leather practice vest and helmet as though she’d done it before.

  He handed her his sword, but she waved it off, calling to one of the female weapon masters, “Yhuleana, throw me a one-and-a-half handed claymore.”

  The athletic-looking woman pulled a sword more than twice as big as the one Marcus had used off the rack and tossed it into the air. Kyja caught it smoothly in one hand. She flexed the blade, tested the balance, and said to Tankum, “Care to spar?”

  “Love to.” Tankum grinned.

  “You might want to stand back
,” she told Marcus.

  Unable to keep his jaw from hanging open, Marcus stepped a few feet away and watched in amazement as Kyja and Tankum battled toe-to-toe. Tankum was stronger. But even without the benefit of magic, Kyja was amazingly quick and dexterous. She moved like a humming bird, stepping outside the warrior’s range before darting inside his swings. More than once her sword threw off sparks as she made contact with Tankum’s stone body.

  At the end of fifteen minutes, both were breathing hard. “Well done,” Tankum said, ending the bout by holding his sword at his chest and bowing. “I would gladly fight with you at my side.”

  “Wow!” Marcus said. “That was incredible. Where did you learn to fight like that?”

  “A guy thing?” Riph Raph blustered. “She’s beat you at Trill Stones and sword fighting. She’s tougher and smarter than you’ll ever be.”

  Hiding a smile, Kyja bit her lip and gave her sword and vest back to the weapon master. “What do you think I did while the other kids were practicing spells?”

  “You humans are full of surprises,” said Cascade, who continued to make a habit of randomly appearing out of nowhere. Today he wore a hat, leather vest, and a pair of woolen britches instead of his usual blue robe.

  “What’s up with the outfit?” Marcus asked.

  “I thought dressing like a human might help me understand them better,” the water elemental said. “But mostly, it just itches.” Cascade nodded toward a thin man with a small beard standing a few feet away. “That gentleman’s been watching you both for quite some time now. It might be worth your while to go meet him.”

  “Who is he?” Marcus asked. Something about the man looked familiar, but he couldn’t say exactly what.

  “Go over and find out,” Cascade said.

  Marcus and Kyja approached the man, who seemed embarrassed to be noticed. He looked as if he might flee, but at the last minute, licked his lips and stood his ground.