Fable- Blood of Heroes

by Jim C. Hines

  “We can’t keep standing around waiting for the weather.” Winter spread her hands towards the sky. A chill crept through her veins, as if her blood had been replaced by water from the coldest mountain streams. She had pushed herself in the battle with the guards. But she should be able to provide a bit of safety without suffering full-blown iceburn. Hopefully.

  She stepped out, and the falling rain around her slowed. The droplets turned to flakes of snow, which she brushed from her body. She could do this. Freezing the rain was a simple matter of freeing the cold inside her. “Much better. Now, let’s go save Grayrock!”

  The town was in chaos.

  Thankfully, it looked like most of the people had taken shelter from the storm, so few were affected as strongly as the Mayor and his guards. But enough had suffered the same fate to slow the Heroes’ progress. Winter maintained her sphere of cold the best she could while the others fought off twisted and raving men, women, children, and worse.

  “Remember, these are innocent victims,” Sterling said.

  “Innocent victims who are doing their best to kill us,” Shroud shot back. “Admittedly, their best is rather amateurish. No style at all.”

  Glory set off a series of magical explosions in front of a trio of children. “Ex-humans are one thing. Do you expect me to hold back against that?”

  That was a large donkey charging drunkenly down the street, the fur of its scalp matted and bloody. Foam dribbled from its lips.

  Shroud’s arrow took the animal in the throat. It stumbled and slid to a halt a short distance in front of them. “I vote no.”

  “Back in the day, the toxic soup Yog brewed in her cauldron only affected people,” said Kas. “I’d love to know what she’s changed.”

  From the rooftop ahead, a rain-soaked rooster let out a cry like an angry, flatulent trumpet. Bloody wings spread, it charged along the gutter towards them.

  Winter dropped her protective sphere long enough to freeze the bird’s feathers. It stiffened, then toppled off the roof. “Too slow, little bird.”

  Someone peeked out of a window as they passed. Sterling waved them back. “Stay inside your homes!”

  To the west, part of the town appeared to be on fire, despite the rain. A pair of redcaps—true redcaps, not the partially transformed residents of Grayrock—chased a dog through the street. Winter froze the road directly in front of the redcaps. The first slipped, and the second tripped over the first, allowing the dog to scurry to the relative safety of a nearby home. Glory finished off the redcaps before they could rise.

  “How did they get inside the walls?” asked Sterling.

  Winter turned towards the distant flames. “They’re burning the buildings closest to the gates.” If redcaps had broken through, or if someone under Yog’s influence had opened the gate, it might be too late to stop them. “We have to get over there.”

  Snow swirled around her as she ran. Yog’s storm had faded to little more than a drizzle now.

  “Yog will know I’m free,” said Kas. “She’s got a vindictive streak as wide as the sea. If she gets her hands on me—”

  “She won’t,” said Winter. “We’ll find a way to change you back. You and Ben both. Though you might be a bit wrinklier than you used to be, given how old …” She trailed off as she turned a corner and saw the source of the smoke and fire.

  The metal gates were intact, but the stone wall of Grayrock was burning. The nymph, Skye, stood behind the gates, wreathed in flames. Directly in front of her sat what looked like a small catapult, manned by a pair of redcaps.

  “That’d be Yog’s Rider of Will,” said Kas, twisting about to watch as more fire flew through the gate to ignite a nearby stable. “The core of the power comes from the Rider, but Yog will have strengthened her Will, making her even more dangerous. Yog can also see through her Riders’ eyes if she chooses.”

  Shroud was already fitting an arrow to the string of his bow. Before he could shoot, one of the redcaps triggered the catapult, sending three missiles arcing over the wall.

  Their flight was oddly slow and irregular. It wasn’t until they reached the apex of their arc that Winter realised Skye wasn’t launching rocks, but redcaps. They stretched out their arms and howled with laughter. They looked to be holding thick “wings” of woven pine branches, which they flapped with ever-increasing vigour as they plummeted towards the street.

  “That looks like fun,” she commented.

  “Wait for it,” said Shroud.

  The makeshift wings didn’t do much. Two of the redcaps slammed to the ground, while the third bounced off a stone wall. That one didn’t get back up. Another scrambled out of sight behind a house. The last redcap pushed himself upright, wobbling from side to side. Blood dripped from his nose. “Gonnae nae do tha again!”

  More catapults went off, launching redcaps into Grayrock in groups of three and four. Many had tied pine branches to their bodies in addition to their wings. They didn’t achieve anything close to true flight, but the branches did provide a little padding against the impact. Not every redcap survived, but the majority did, and they were roused to madness by the flames and the chaos.

  “This age’s style of warfare is very different than it was in my time,” Kas said. “Are these common tactics?”

  “If only,” said Winter.

  One of the redcaps flew too low, and the flames on the wall touched his pine-branch wings. He survived the landing, but was too busy trying to extinguish the branches tied to his torso to present any immediate danger.

  Shroud shot the next redcap in mid flight.

  “Not bad.” Glory sniffed and tossed a red apple at another. The explosion flung the redcap backwards, and Skye had to step to the side to avoid being flattened by her own falling monster. Glory smiled.

  “Nice … if you’re only going after one at a time.” Winter began to manipulate the raindrops, freezing them into tiny knives and flinging them at the closest redcaps. But for each one she stopped, two more flew over the wall and scampered into town.

  Bells rang out from the Mayor’s tower. The remaining inhabitants poured from the nearby buildings, carrying whatever they could on their backs. One woman dragged what could have been her husband. He had obviously been affected by the cursed rain, and was bound hand and foot, with a gag stuffed into his mouth. But she hauled him along like an oversized sack of potatoes.

  “What are you lot waiting for?” shouted a boy following along behind them. Their son, from the looks of him. “Don’t you hear the bells? That’s the Mayor giving the order to flee.”

  “I did no such thing,” Glory said indignantly.

  “Maybe someone impeached you while you were busy showing off,” said Winter.

  “Whoever sounded the alarm might have had the right idea,” said Sterling. “Removing the civilians from the field of battle allows us to better concentrate on vanquishing our foes.”

  Shroud glanced down at the doll. “Why is Yog so intent on destroying Grayrock and capturing you? Vengeance is one thing, but this seems excessive, and that’s coming from me.”

  “Because of the curse,” said Kas. “I told you how William and I broke her power. Our spell was bound to the life and blood of William Grayrock, and this town was his home. His bloodline lives on in these walls. This place and its people are what keep the curse alive. So long as Grayrock is home to William’s descendants, Yog shall remain a shell of her former self, unable to consume the power of any Hero.”

  “How many descendants?” asked Glory.

  Kas chuckled. “Knowing him? I’d guess half the town traces their ancestry to his loins.”

  “And now they’re abandoning Grayrock.” Winter studied the wooden ramp leading up to the gate, and to Skye. “The rest of you, keep the redcaps away from me.”

  “What are you going to do?” asked Sterling.

  “Beckett predicted Grayrock’s fall. I mean to prove him wrong.” Winter grinned. “Also, I want another shot at that nymph.”

 
“Take me with you,” said Kas.

  Sterling frowned. “No slight intended, but you’re no longer the warrior you once were.”

  “Aye, but I’m the only one among you who won’t be hurt by fire,” Kas snapped. “I know Yog and her power. I can aid the lass in this fight.”

  “I agree with the doll,” said Glory. “You know it’s a bad idea letting Winter out unsupervised.”

  “This from the girl who threw the Mayor of Grayrock out a window.”

  “Ex-Mayor,” Glory snapped.

  Winter simply grinned and snatched Kas with one hand. She ran towards the gate, sending blasts of cold to extinguish the small fires that had broken out on the ramp. Redcaps surged towards her from both sides. She froze the road ahead and put on a burst of speed, sliding between the two groups and leaving them to scramble on the ice like overturned turtles.

  The planks of the ramp shuddered with her footsteps. On the opposite side of the gate, Skye stood silhouetted by smoke and flame. Fire crackled over the exposed skin of her face and hands. Steam rose from her clothes. Any of Yog’s tainted rain that might have fallen on her would have evaporated instantly.

  Winter reached deep into memories of her home, of snowdrifts as tall as her parents and icicles that sparkled in the sun like glass stalactites, some so large they stretched from the edge of the roof to the ground in solid, unbroken pillars. Of flowering patterns of frost spread across frozen lakes. Of snowfall so thick, the world around you disappeared. She gathered that cold and flung it directly into the heart of Skye’s fire.

  The flames weakened, giving her a better view of the nymph. Skye stumbled, and a heavier cloud of smoke belched forth from her gown.

  “Nothing burns like the cold!” Winter shouted gleefully.

  “Focus, child,” snapped Kas. “The nymph was chosen for her strength of Will. Her power is bolstered by Yog. Your Will must be stronger!”

  “Don’t you worry your little gravel head.” Cold flowed through the swirling tattoos on Winter’s hands. Lines of frost clung to her skin, tracing the veins below. She poured that cold into her assault, sending serpents of ice and snow racing through the air to devour Skye’s fires.

  Another batch of redcaps flew over the wall, and the ramp trembled as one charged up to attack her. Winter did her best to ignore them, just as she ignored Shroud’s shout of “Mine!” and the thump that followed as he picked the redcap off with a shot from his bow.

  Powerful as Skye might be, she had been pushing herself hard, and her exhaustion gave Winter the edge she needed. She felt the moment her own Will began to overpower the flames. It was like cresting a hill. Everything shifted, and the cold poured faster. She stumbled closer to the gate. “I’ve got her.”

  The words emerged from her mouth in puffs of frost.

  “Be careful,” said Kas. “Yog’s Riders aren’t so easily conquered.”

  “You think this was easy?”

  Skye broke off her assault and whirled in a circle. A thick curtain of smoke billowed from her body. The flames continued to die, but Winter’s power could do little to combat the smoke, which crept through the gate to sting her eyes and sear her lungs.

  Winter pressed one arm over her nose and mouth. Eyes watering, she forced herself forwards, trying to overwhelm the nymph, to freeze her where she stood. Tears blurred her vision. “What’s she doing?”

  “Just because I’m stone doesn’t mean I can see through smoke.”

  Winter tried to answer, but the smoke had crawled into her mouth and chest. Each breath was like swallowing embers and ash. Coughing and half-blind, she had no choice. She retreated, hating each step.

  Sterling met her at the base of the ramp. Shroud and Glory provided cover, though most of the redcaps had already been driven back by the smoke. Those who hadn’t broken their legs upon landing.

  “Drink this,” said Shroud, pressing a potion into her hand. “Smoke inhalation’s a nasty way to die.”

  Winter swallowed the potion and nodded gratefully as it cooled and healed the burning in her lungs. “I had her.”

  “You fought well,” said Kas.

  “We have to fall back.” Sterling pointed to the north. “It sounds like another group has broken through at the dam. We can—”

  “It’s time to face the truth, lad,” Kas said firmly. “You might destroy Yog’s foot soldiers and chase her Riders away, but Grayrock is lost. Her storm has soaked the earth. It’s in the wells. The soil. The crops will drink her poison. Anyone who stays will end up like those twisted wrecks.”

  “That’s impossible. No poison is that potent.” Shroud paused. “All right, it’s theoretically possible, if you have a strong enough toxin. Iocaine, for example. But this isn’t—”

  “Behind you, Mr. Shroud.” The doll pointed past Shroud’s left shoulder.

  Shroud spun, shooting another arrow in one smooth motion to take out the approaching redcap.

  “We could rally the survivors,” said Sterling. “Never underestimate the strength of ordinary men—”

  “Or women,” said Glory.

  “—or women, fighting to defend their homes.”

  “Their homes are on fire,” Shroud pointed out. “Drenched in poison and overrun by redcaps. Those who haven’t been involuntarily conscripted into Yog’s service are fleeing for the hills.”

  Winter wondered if Greta and Ben had made it out, or if they had been caught in the storm.

  “Turn me over to Yog,” Kas said quietly. “Trade me for the safety of Grayrock’s survivors.”

  Sterling shook his head. “A Hero doesn’t surrender his companion into the hands of evil.”

  “Besides,” added Glory, “what makes you think Yog would keep her part of the bargain? She doesn’t sound like the upstanding, honourable type.”

  “The refugees are vulnerable. If Yog gets the opportunity”—Shroud paused to kill another redcap—“to hunt down and eliminate William Grayrock’s descendants, she’d be a fool not to take it.”

  Winter’s body ached. The skin under her nails had a blue tinge, and her hands felt numb and swollen. She clapped them together anyway. “Then we make sure she doesn’t have that opportunity.”

  “That’s the spirit,” cheered Sterling. “And how exactly did you mean to do that?”

  She stepped into the middle of the street. “Shroud, I’ll need you to cover me. Glory, you and Sterling escort the remaining survivors out of Grayrock and into the hills. You wouldn’t want to abandon any of your constituents, would you? Take Kas with you.”

  “I’m staying with you, lass,” Kas insisted. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I mean to spit in Yog’s eye and make her pay for what she did to me.”

  “What is your plan?” asked Sterling.

  “It’s a surprise.” Winter forced a smile and rubbed her hands together. “You didn’t think that little fight at the gate was all I had in me, did you? That was just to get Skye’s attention.”

  She climbed up the nearest home that wasn’t on fire. Her fingers struggled to find holds between the bricks. Back home, she used to sneak out to go climbing all the time, but generally not after spending the day running from one fight to another. Once she reached the roof, she raised the stone doll over her head.

  “Easy now,” said Kas. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Causing trouble.” Winter grinned and raised her voice. “Hey, Skye! Tell your mistress I’ve got her husband!”

  It was like throwing rocks at a hornets’ nest. Redcaps swarmed out of the smoke, converging on the house. She looked around for Shroud, but he had disappeared.

  “If it’s trouble you wanted … ,” said Kas.

  Winter leaped to the ground and fell, but bounced quickly to her feet and began to run. The hungry, rasping laughter of the redcaps energised her muscles.

  Behind her, mocking laughs turned to shouts of pain and anger. She glanced over her shoulder to see a pile of fallen redcaps clawing at one another. She spied the trip wire a mom
ent later. As the redcaps struggled to regain their feet, Shroud calmly stepped into view and put one arrow after another into them. Half of the redcaps charged after him. Shroud gave her a two-fingered salute and vanished.

  Winter dodged around a corner, laughing like a little girl playing tag. A small skull flew past her head, chucked by a redcap slingshot. She glanced over her shoulder. “You brought party favours, did you? Well then, let’s get the dancing started!”

  She froze the ground ahead of her and spun in a slow circle as she slid along the ice. Cold flowed from her tattoos and into the air as she conjured an ice shield behind her. Normally, she used such shields to protect herself or her friends from attack, but this time she placed it directly on the ground behind her like a wall.

  The redcaps hit the icy patch on the road. Their arms windmilled wildly as they tried to stop, then they slid into her ice shield one after the other.

  “At wis a helluva dunt!”

  “Get aff o’ me, ya bampot!”

  The shield eventually cracked and broke from the impacts, but it had accomplished two important goals: It had slowed Winter’s pursuers, and it made her laugh.

  A partially transformed townswoman lurched from between two houses. Winter grabbed Kas by the legs and clonked the woman on the head, sending her reeling.

  “Sorry about that, Kas.”

  “I’d be grateful if you never did that again.”

  “But I thought you wanted to be a part of the battle,” Winter teased.

  “She’s over here!” The cry came from an ogre head perched atop a bakery. Headstrong must have set her noggins out as sentries. How in blazes had she sneaked into Grayrock? Winter couldn’t imagine Skye launching her over the gate in a catapult.

  The ogre’s answering bellow was close, maybe one street over. Winter ran faster.

  “They’re heading for the dam,” the noggin shouted.

  “Big mouth.” Winter could see the dam now, along with the makeshift barricade Shroud had put together to keep anyone else from entering. Planks and poles formed a crude wall, but she could also make out wires vanishing into the darkness and the gleam of blades waiting to spring.