by Charley Case
He was doing his best to keep the rage from taking hold, but he was having trouble dealing with all the opponents without the increased reaction time his berserker state bestowed upon him. While the rage had its advantages, especially in a fight with multiple people, it had one major drawback so significant that he had been deemed unfit to join the royal guard for the customary stint as his ancestors had before him.
While he was in a rage, he was tougher and faster, but utterly unable to cast any type of spell. The rage itself was like an anti-magic serum. Not only was it impossible for him to cast anything, but magic used against him became less potent the further the rage had taken him.
Right now, he needed to have a clear mind for what was coming next.
There were at least two dozen Orcs and Kashgar surrounding him, most of whom had a weapon of some kind. He fought them off as best he could, but he was starting to gather a small collection of cuts and bruises. He needed them to come in closer.
In truth, he needed Mila to start hitting some god-damned people with that big ass rifle. He kept forgetting that she couldn't see in the dark the way he and Penny could, but he felt like the law of averages said she should be hitting something, even if it was blind luck.
As if his prayers were being answered, the Kashgar coming at him with a collapsible baton was hit in the chest by a tranq dart that spun the large man around and sprawling on the grass, completely knocked out in the fraction of a second it took to fall.
Finn suddenly had the thought that she might accidentally hit him in the dark, but quickly decided that was not the way an epic story should go, and fate surely had other plans for him.
Finn kicked the legs out from under an Orc before taking a glancing blow to the ear from behind. He spun to find a Kashgar off balance from the swing, but several more of his fellows were closing in behind him.
Suddenly a green light lit up the chest of the man in front of him. A second later, the thwap of a dart hitting him in the chest right next to the light made Finn's eyes widen. The lightning bug took off and found an Orc, landing on his shoulder. A second later and other dart hit the orc in the shoulder.
Finn blocked a baton strike with the flat of Fragar before cutting off a hand that got a little too close. Thwap! Thwap! Two more went down. It didn't seem to matter if they were Orc or Kashgar, the darts took them down nearly instantly, the potent tranquilizer as effective as Anita promised.
The numbers were still too thick for Mila to take them all out, but it was enough that the stragglers were able to close in on Finn, tightening their circle and landing more and more blows.
It was time.
Finn crouched down, covering his head with his arms to protect himself for the duration of the spell. The entire time he had been fighting the guards off and drawing them in at the same time he had been constructing a spell in the back of his head, drawing magic from the ground to power the construct in his head. It was a spell he had learned during his time with his tutors back at his father’s palace. He had never used the spell before, for the simple reason that he had never had anyone with him that could deal with the aftermath.
Finn hoped Penny could explain what he was about to do and that Mila would be able to get them out of there afterward.
He trusted them. Now he just needed to trust in the magic that was quickly filling him to the bursting point.
Mila smiled as she saw the next firefly light up a target. She pulled the trigger, and the green bioluminescent glow faded as the target fell. Then another lit up, and another target went down in a heap.
Penny tapped her arm with a fresh magazine, and Mila quickly changed it out for the spent one. She saw Finn crouched in the middle of the close grouping of enemies, his outline glowing purple with magical energies.
“What is he doing?” she pointed out Finn to Penny, who frowned, smoke pouring from her in worry. “He’s going to get himself killed, not fighting back.”
Mila started to get up to help, but Penny put a hand on her knee. “Shir. Chi chi.” She mimed using the rifle.
Mila hesitated for a second, then pressed the stock to her shoulder and took another series of shots, every other shot she would check on Finn. His glow was brighter, so much so that she could now see the area immediately around him shrouded in purple light. She could now see several batons connect against his arms as he protected himself. She sighted in on the offending baton wielders and put a dart into each of them, but they were replaced instantly by more coming in behind them.
The grouping was now just a tight pack of people beating Finn down. Mila wanted to scream, but she didn't see that it would do any good. Instead, she emptied the second clip, but there were still almost thirty guards packed in around Finn.
The rifle clicked empty once again, but when she held out a hand to Penny for the last magazine, the small dragon wasn't paying attention.
“Hey.” Mila nudged Penny with her knee, but Penny just pointed at Finn, then clasped her hands in worry.
Mila watched the purple light quickly grow in intensity until it was difficult to look at Finn directly. The group around him finally seemed to understand that they had not trapped him; he had been the one setting the trap.
Several of the Kashgar, being a little quicker on the uptake, turned and began to run, but it was too late.
The light glaring off of Finn suddenly shrunk down to a pinpoint centered in his chest. There was a breathless moment when the night stood still, Mila’s eyes widening in the sudden darkness before the night was lit like a noonday sun, Finn at its center.
Mila had to look away from the intensity as her eyes adjusted, but Penny never turned her head, just squinting, wanting to watch the entire spell.
A ripping sound filled the night, like a mix between an avalanche and a hundred trees being ripped in half. Screams filled the night and cut off, followed by the sounds of dozens of bodies hitting the ground. The earth rumbled and shook, nearly tipping Mila from the shed’s roof.
Penny put a hand on Mila's knee, steadying herself with one hand and punching the air with the other. “Shi!” she cheered, shooting a victory flame into the night sky.
Mila was still trying to recover what small amount of night vision she had, but the sound of a truck rumbling to life made her glance at the pens and the small island of light they had. In the mad dash of trying to hit as many targets as she could, she failed to notice the hounds quieting down and finally falling silent. She expected to find them standing in their pens, but the chain-link fences were empty, the hounds having been loaded into the box truck during the fight. The truck lights came on and it lurched into gear, rocking from side to side as it rumbled down the back drive and through the gate.
Mila turned back to squint into the darkness, trying to pick Finn out. Her eyes adjusted just enough to see the ragged outline of things sticking out of the ground at odd angles encircling the spot where Finn had been.
“Chi! Shee, cheer!” Penny tugged on her sleeve, pulling her towards the edge of the roof.
Mila got the message and slung the rifle over her shoulder along with the satchel of magazines. She scooted to the edge on her butt, the asphalt tiles catching on her leggings and breaking small bits of grit loose to tumble down the gabled roof. She scooted to the edge and launched herself off, landing in a crouch, and sprinted after Penny, who had already swooped past her and through the evergreen bushes.
She came bursting out of the coverage and stumbled on a rock that was lying in the grass. She caught herself but noticed there were several more large stones scattered in the neatly trimmed grass. Having to slow her run gave Mila the opportunity to survey the damage better.
There were Orcs and Kashgar strewn all across the yard, come nearly a hundred feet from the epicenter that had been Finn. Most of them were out cold, or dead, she couldn't tell as she ran past them in the dark, but a few groaned with obviously broken arms or legs.
Penny called out, making Mila look up from a particularly mangled Orc. She
skidded to a halt, nearly running into an outcropping of rock, black soil clinging to its tip where it had been shoved through the soil violently. She glanced around her in amazement. Several dozen such outcroppings jutted out of the ground in an angle away from the center. She guessed there had to be several hundred tons of rock that had come from the earth. It was as if Stonehenge had been weaponized.
“Chi!” Mila heard Penny shout form further in the stone formation.
Mila picked her way through, finding row after row of the stone to finally enter a perfectly circular area of bare ground. Finn lay on his back, his eyes still gray and a half-drunk smile on his face.
“Chi chi!” Penny pulled on Finn's hand, barely moving it, but looking up at Mila.
“How am I supposed to move him? He’s like four times my weight!” Mila squatted down next to him and lightly slapped his face. “Come on, big guy. We need to get out of here. Wake up!”
Finn’s head rolled her way, his heavy-lidded eyes half-focusing on her. “Yer pretty.” He giggled.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Mila asked Penny, her brow furrowing.
Penny frowned then crouched, shaking her hands over her head, miming a big explosion along with the sound effects. She stood up quickly. “SHOOSH!” She then stumbled around, miming being drunk, and fell over backward.
“Oh, the spell made him drunk?”
Penny looked up from her back and wobbled her hand in a “sort of” motion.
“I still can't lift him.” Mila pulled on his hand, barely moving him.
Penny launched herself at Mila, wrapping around her leg and tapping furiously at the outline of the ring in the pocket of Mila's leggings.
Mila pulled the gold ring out and regarded it skeptically. “Will this make me stronger?”
Penny nodded, climbing up onto her shoulder.
Mila slipped the ring on, bracing for what was coming next. She relaxed after a few seconds when nothing happened. “Is it supposed…”
A cold chill ran through her, and her jaw clenched shut. She squeezed her eyes closed and made her hands into fists as the chill went all the way through her down to the bone. Her teeth would have chattered with the chill, but she couldn't move in the slightest as the spell took hold and transformed her into a living statue.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Finn hadn't felt this good and drunk in a long time. Usually, it took him several bottles of whiskey before he felt even the slightest of buzzes but using that much magic all at once was a sure way to put his body into a stupor.
He was aware that he had completed the spell, calling on the rocks to protect him, and he knew it had worked, but after that, things were a little more nebulous.
He knew he was in a vehicle, and that that vehicle was barreling down the road, but he didn't remember getting into the car at all. In fact, the only thing he remembered was the ivory face of an angel looking down at him and smiling. Then a brief memory of being carried over someone’s shoulder. He had thought at the time that they must be short because his hands were dragging in the grass, but the feel of the cool blades of green had felt so good against his skin that he forgot to ask about their height.
There was something he was supposed to be doing, but he couldn't focus, and the seat he was reclined in was so comfortable.
A small face full of teeth and leaking smoke from its nostrils leaned in to fill his vision. “Squee. Squee!” two small hands grabbed a handful of his beard and shook his face.
He knew that face. “Pen?” he mumbled, words not coming easily.
The head bobbed up and down. “Chi! Squee.”
“Is he going to be all right?” a delightful female voice asked.
Finn rolled his heavy head to the side and saw a long-haired beauty sitting next to him in the driver’s seat. He knew her too. How could he ever forget a face like that?
“Mi. So pretty.” His hand flopped over to land on her thigh as he tried to pat it, but it was too heavy for him to pick up again. “Sorry bout ‘iss.”
She laughed. “You’re not the first drunk guy I’ve had to take care of.”
He frowned then shook his head. “No. Sorry ‘bout needen oo. Should be tougher.”
Mila went a little still, her mouth flattening out into a line of disapproval. “Don't be sorry that you need help. That’s ridiculous. We all need help sometimes.” She glanced over, making brief eye contact. “Even if we don't ask for it like we should, sometimes. God knows I’m guilty of it too.”
He smiled, his face feeling heavy. “Iss good. Ast why I lurvoo.”
He saw her eyes go a little wide as she glanced back at him before turning back to the road and keeping them there. She was silent long enough that he almost fell asleep, but her whispered reply snapped him awake again.
“I don't know if that one counts. You’re obviously drunk.” She clenched at the steering wheel, her knuckles white.
“Chi?” His head rolled down to find Penny on his lap, but she was looking at Mila, her head cocked and eye ridges raised questioningly.
“What? It’s only been like a month!” Mila said, defensively. “This is not the conversation we should be having right now.”
Penny rolled her eyes and held up a little white business card. Finn recognized the card but couldn't remember where he had gotten it.
“Oh, right!” Mila seemed embarrassed. “Finn, buddy, I need you to get a message to Hermin. Hermin, you remember? The gnome? We need him to meet us at the Wooden Bard. I can't send the card, and Penny can't communicate with them. We need you to focus. Remember the hounds? We need to stop them.”
Finn furrowed his brow, watching her speak. She was so earnest in her need for him to do this. He reached out with a shaky hand and grabbed for the card, but missed, making Penny have to duck under his swinging arm. She hopped onto his forearm as it passed on his second attempt and placed the card in his hand.
He looked at it, forgetting what it was for a second before Mila reached over and squeezed his knee. “Hermin. Get Hermin to the Wooden Bard. We need to stop the hounds.”
Finn squinted his eyes in concentration.
Mila changed lanes and hit the gas. She wasn't entirely sure where the Wooden Bard was, but she had entered it into the GPS of her phone and the pleasant British-sounding voice told her that it was only about ten minutes away. After using the ring to move Finn to the car, she had taken a good two minutes to take it off again and return to her normal condition. She figured, with the time it had taken to carry Finn to the car and get him situated, the Troll had already arrived at the bar, and the attack was underway.
Returning to normal after the comfortable chill of her stone skin had been one of the weirdest experiences in her life. It was like growing flesh from nothing in the span of seconds. She shivered, thinking about it.
Glancing over, she saw Finn concentrating, his hand and the card held between his fingers glowing with the barely visible purple light of his magic. He opened his mouth, then closed it, smacking his lips a few times before continuing.
“Wooden Bard.” He said the words forcefully, enunciating as best he could. “Hounds. Help.” He took a breath, his eyes rolling with effort. “Bring deep stones. Black deep.” His head fell back against the headrest and he released the card.
Instead of the glowing card falling to his lap, it was enveloped in a small bubble and vanished with a pop.
Finn smiled, his shoulders slumping, eyes closing, and his breathing becoming deep and steady. The small act of sending the card off seemed to have been just enough to put him over the edge into unconsciousness. Mila squeezed Finn's knee one last time, giving him a thin-lipped smile.
Penny and Mila shared a look. The dragon had a half a cheesy grin on her face. “What?” Mila asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
Penny just glanced down at her hand on Finn's leg then gave her a wink.
“Oh, stop it.” She snatched her hand away. “Should we get Danica to come to the bar? Just in case there are
a lot of hurt people? She might be able to do a lot of good.”
Penny thought about it for a second then nodded, a ring of smoke rising from a nostril in the affirmative. “Shir.”
Mila hit the voice control for the car. “Call Danica.” The car let off a tone, and the sound of her phone ringing came through the speakers.
“Hello?” Danica's answered after a few rings. “Are you guys okay? It’s after ten.”
Mila was surprised that it had gotten so late in the day. “We’re okay.” She glanced at Finn slumped in the seat. “Ish.” She amended. “We need your help. There’s going to be an attack on the Wooden Bard, and I think we could use your healing arts during the cleanup. Can you meet us there?”
There was the sound of rustling cloth on Danica's side of the call. “Yeah. I can be there in a few minutes. Let me put on some clothes and grab my bag.”
“Were you sleeping?” Mila asked, shocked that Danica would be caught dead in bed before midnight. The sound of a man’s voice came through, though it was too muffled for Mila to make out the words. “Oh, my god. Is that Phil?” Mila chuckled when she recognized the man’s odd tone.
“Maybe. Doesn't matter. We can talk about this later. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Danica hung up before Mila could grill her further.
She grinned at Penny who shared the expression. “Well, looks like our little elf girl is joining the dork side.”
Penny rolled her eyes at the pun.
“Mmm, I like yer dork side,” Finn mumbled, his eyes cracking open ever so slightly.
Mila chuckled. “Is that so? What about my dork side do you like?”
“Way it feels.”
“You like the way my dorkiness feels?” She asked, confused how that made any sense.
Finn rolled his heavy head back and forth in the negative. “Nnnn. Way you feel.”
She rolled her eyes. “You like the way I feel? And how, exactly, do I feel to you?” she had been hoping for something a little more than talk of her physical body, but it was still nice to hear.