Fierce Creatures (Away From Whipplethorn Book Two)

by A W Hartoin

“Be gone, spriggan,” said Bentha. “We’ll find our way from here.”

  “One moment. I have a question for Matilda,” said Vom.

  “No questions, butt rubbish.”

  But Vom had me curious. “What is it?”

  He leaned forward, his tongue flicking out and nearly touching my tear-stained face. “What did Krust do to you that you couldn’t defend yourself?”

  I sniffed. “I’m not going to tell you anything.”

  “Come on now. I’ve kept my word. I delivered you back unharmed though it pains me to do it. What did he do?”

  “Why do you want to know?” asked Gerald. “So you can torture our allies more effectively?”

  “You are bright, aren’t you, despite your looks.”

  “What do you mean? I look smart. Everyone says so.”

  “Let me guess. Everyone is your mother.”

  Gerald’s face screwed up into a furious pout, revealing the truth. Mothers are never honest when it comes to looks, or intelligence, for that matter. My mom says I’m as smart as Gerald, and Iris looks fit. Right.

  Vom snorted at Gerald. “Look in the mirror, know-it-all. You’ve got spindly arms and a giant head. I’m amazed you have the strength to carry that thing around.”

  “You smell like the inside of a dead dog.”

  “When will you learn? To a spriggan, that’s a compliment. Try, ‘You smell like a spring morning.’ Those are fighting words.”

  “I hate you.”

  “Again with the compliments. Now Matilda, about that torture. I really need Krust’s techniques. You see, I had this teufel prisoner once, and I just couldn’t get anything out of him, and then the red-skinned lump escaped. A total waste of time, but with Krust’s techniques...”

  “Forget it. I’m not going to tell you what Krust did to me.” I shuddered for effect. “I don’t want any of our allies to suffer that horror. Get out of our way.”

  Vom shrugged. “I had to try.”

  “Set me down, Bentha,” I said.

  Bentha put me gently on my feet and I shook my wings out. They were so cramped after being crushed up in Bentha’s arms that I stretched them out to their full width, which was quite a spread. One went beyond the fabric folds into the open.

  Vom bowed to me. “Good day.” Then he sneered at Bentha. “I hope we meet on the battlefield someday. I could teach you a lesson.”

  “Anytime, barf bowl.”

  Vom bowed to Iris and Gerald. Then he started to hop back into the fabric folds toward spriggan territory when Iris grabbed my arm. “Retract your wings. Now!”

  I did and they folded onto my back in a snap. “What is it?”

  “Your wings have been spotted.”

  “That’s your territory,” said Vom. “Hardly a tragedy.”

  Bentha sniffed. “No, it’s a horen.”

  Vom’s face went a sicklier shade of green. “It can’t be. All our allies have been ordered to stay within our borders until war is declared.”

  “Horen don’t follow orders from anyone. You should know that,” said Bentha.

  Vom hopped forward. “If one of them finds you here...”

  “What’ll we do? What’ll we do?” asked Iris.

  “Climb,” said Gerald, pointing up through the folds of ragged lace and old velvet. “It’s our only chance.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  VOM STUCK A finger in my face. “You’ve never seen me in your life.” Then he disappeared into the folds of velvet.

  The rest of us leapt onto the fabric and began climbing. I didn’t know what we’d do when we got to the top. Bentha didn’t have wings. Could we carry him? I didn’t know. Wood fairy wings were made for speed and maneuverability, not to carry heavy loads.

  Bentha touched my shoulder. “Faster, Matilda. Don’t look down.”

  So, of course, I had to look down just in time to see a golden ball roll into the fabric below our feet. Instantly, it formed into a grinning horen, a male with eyes of such pale yellow they were almost colorless.

  “Just who I wanted to see,” he said.

  “Climb!” shouted Bentha. “I’ll hold him off!”

  “In your dreams,” said the horen, and he formed a ball in his right hand.

  I spread my wings, but I couldn’t get aloft in the tight space.

  “Climb!” yelled Bentha.

  The horen tossed the ball and disappeared the instant he did. The ball sailed up toward us and Bentha leapt off the fabric, his sword tight in both hands. He slashed at the ball and struck it hard. The ball changed back to horen form and the golden fairy spun into the fabric with a clear spray erupting from his back.

  Bentha thrust his sword in the lace opposite us, and it ripped through the old fabric, slowing Bentha’s fall until he could get a good handhold. He glared up at the horen, who’d managed to grab onto the velvet just below me.

  “Face me, horen!” yelled Bentha.

  “I don’t think so.” The horen trained his creepy eyes on me. His curved claws dug deep in the fabric and started climbing. My palms tingled, but I suppressed my fire. The fabric was so old and dry, the smallest spark might engulf us in an inferno.

  “Climb, Iris! Climb, Gerald!” I let go and fell, my feet aimed at the horen’s head.

  I connected and the horen’s head snapped back as I hit him full in the face. His claws ripped out of the fabric. He flipped backward and tumbled end over end. I clutched at the lace, trying to stop my fall, but everything blurred as my speed built. I, too, began to tumble. A strong arm grabbed my foot and jerked me to a stop. I dangled upside down, dizzy and near to vomiting. The hand hoisted me upward and an intense pain shot through my leg. I curled up, thinking it was Bentha who’d saved me, but it was the horen. His claws pierced my ankle. One had gone clear through the thin area in front of my Achilles tendon. I struck upward at him, my abs screaming. He yanked me high, so that I was level with his sneering face. His arm was so long that for all my flailing, I couldn’t reach him.

  “Play with a horen and you’ll get the claws,” he said as a flood of shiny clear blood spilled over his bottom teeth.

  Then Bentha was there with a flash of a sword and I fell, head first, screaming toward the floor. I spread my wings, but the fabric restricted them. I caught a flash of red. Closed my eyes. Ready for impact. I hit something hard, but not floor hard. I opened my eyes and found Lrag cradling me.

  “Lrag!” I wrapped my arms around his thick neck, but he peeled me off and laid me on the linoleum.

  “Wait here,” he said.

  “I have to get Iris and Gerald.”

  “You’re not in any condition. Bentha is battling the horen on his own. Wait here.” Lrag grabbed fistfuls of lace and began climbing, using arm strength alone.

  “I’m going!” I tried to stand and fell back, screaming. My vision went white. When it cleared, Lrag pointed at my leg. Then he climbed out of sight between folds of velvet and lace. I rolled to my side to get a look at my leg. What I saw made me vomit. I don’t mean I felt sick. I mean, I actually vomited. The horen’s arm was severed at the elbow and still attached to my ankle. Two of the claws had cut through and the rest were deeply imbedded. Clear blood spurted out of the horen elbow and a pool of my blood formed under my ankle.

  I fell back, panting and wanting my mom. She would’ve been pretty much useless in that situation. She wasn’t a healer and fighting wasn’t her thing, unless you counted fighting with Dad about laundry going in the basket, but I still wanted her. It was the first time that ever happened. Before that moment I always wanted Grandma Vi when I was hurt or sick. She was the one who rocked me, gave me medicine, and soothed me with her strong, cool hands. Now I wanted Mom. Grandma Vi wasn’t dead to me, not really, until that moment. It didn’t happen in a darkened room in the mantel with Mom sobbing on the floor. It happened in pain and need. It happened in knowing that she would never be able to help me again. Grandma was dead, and, for the first time, I knew and believed it.

  I squeezed my
eyes shut and then opened them, trying to orient myself. Which way was Soren’s territory? I had to get out of the clothes, but I couldn’t afford to make a mistake and crawl into spriggan territory. Maybe if I could get the hand off my ankle, I could hop out. I forced myself to bend double and touch the horen arm. The second I did, the hand closed tighter. My vision went white and I started shaking. I’d have to crawl. I rolled over and propped myself up on my elbows. I didn’t know which way was which. I’d have to guess. A fifty percent chance was as good as I was going to get. I dragged myself forward, digging my fingernails into the flooring and panting from the pain. Each movement seemed to dig the claws in deeper, but I couldn’t stop.

  It couldn’t be much further. Maybe six inches. I kept my eyes up. Looking at the floor made me dizzy. I thought about Iris and Gerald. Another inch done. I thought about Horc and the message in my pocket that I’d promised to deliver. I would deliver it. Another inch. I thought about Miss Penrose. Her life was in my other pocket and time was running out. Another inch. Soren. He’d have to see me like this and he’d blame himself. But it was all my fault. My decision. Another inch gone. Mom and Dad. They’ll be so mad. Another inch. Daiki. Something told me katana warriors didn’t vomit and cry when injured. I could just see him looking at me and saying he’d made a mistake believing I had warrior tendencies. That made me pull harder. There was no mistake. I was what he thought I was.

  The last of the fabric parted and Iris was there. “Matilda!” Then she saw my leg and started screaming like I’d never seen anyone scream before. It came through loud and clear. If I could hear it that well, the whole mall would come running, spriggans and worse. I waved for her to stop, but she kept on, so that her whole body was vibrating. Daiki appeared beside her and gently put a hand over her mouth.

  “Stop that now. They’ll hear you,” he said.

  He removed his hand and she gave way to shuddering sobs, silent to me. Daiki knelt at my head and glanced at my blood trail. “You crawled all that way? Remarkable.”

  I couldn’t say anything. My relief was so great, all I could do was nod like an idiot.

  “I’m going to lift you. Try not to scream.”

  Daiki rolled me over. My vision went white again and then to a pinpoint of black. When I woke up, we were at the edge of the fabric and in view of a full-fledged battle.

  The spriggans were attacking to my left. Lrag and Bentha held them off. I almost didn’t recognize Bentha at first. Most of his paint was gone. His plain clothes clung wet and shiny to his long skinny body as he darted among the spriggan, slashing with his sword so fast I could hardly see the blade. He truly was a master. Lrag was right beside him, working with a long staff. He cracked a spriggan upside the head, but the staff was less effective than Bentha’s sword, and he was covered with cuts.

  Straight ahead of us, three diamond formations of phalanx scuttled into the area. They popped off their shells and engaged the sluagh. Their leathery wings were folded tight to their scaled backs and each one carried a shield and a battle-ax the size of my chest. They went after the phalanx, driving them backwards until the phalanx recovered and started darting in to strike at the sluagh’s big clawed feet.

  Daiki started to go right, but stopped in his tracks. The horen were there, including the one Bentha and I fought. The remains of his left arm hung useless. His golden robes underneath the stump were wet with blood. But other than that, I wouldn’t have known he was hurt. He threw himself in ball form into the fray, reformed and raked his claws across a ponderosa’s chest. The ponderosa fell back screaming, and he threw himself again.

  Daiki retreated into the fabric. “Iris, you’ll have to fly to our stronghold. Inform the katana that I have Matilda. Tell them our position. Maybe the wzlot can fly in and get her.”

  Iris nodded, still sobbing.

  “Iris,” said Daiki, “you can do it. But be fast. You can’t afford to be noticed.”

  Iris took off, but she wasn’t fast enough. The horen saw her as she flew over the heads of the sluagh. The female launched herself at Iris. Her golden ball arced through the air. Iris saw it and darted up. The horen changed into her natural form, claws extended. They raked Iris’s dress and down one leg, but Iris got away and zipped out of sight between two cupboards. The horen fell into a formation of sluagh and lay limp on the floor. The other two horen threw themselves, and before I could blink were at her side examining her body.

  “Will she die?” I asked.

  “I doubt it. Horen are notoriously hard to kill. You took off that one’s arm and he’s totally unaffected,” said Daiki.

  “Bentha did that. Farue was right. He’s great at close quarters. The horen had me.”

  As if he’d heard my voice through the clamor of the battle, the horen looked my way, his eyes colder and more predatory than Coconut the cat’s ever were. I gasped. Daiki laid me at his feet, drew his sword, and stepped over me. The pain was so bad I threw up again and lay helpless on the linoleum as Daiki walked calmly into the open to defend me.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  BOTH THE HOREN threw themselves at Daiki. They exploded into their natural forms at his feet. Two against one. My palms tingled. I rolled onto my side and pushed the lace out of my way. I formed a blue fireball and tried to launch it at the horen, but it fell harmlessly just beyond the fabric and went out.

  Daiki stuck a horen, ripping open his robes. The horen laughed and threw himself over Daiki’s head to attack from behind. Daiki was sandwiched between them. If throwing fire wasn’t an option, I’d have to try something else. I closed my eyes and when I opened them the horen with two arms had flames bursting out all over him. He screamed and ran into a sluagh who rolled him on the ground. Daiki parried the one-armed horen with his sword. As I watched, the horen’s claws seemed to grow longer and longer. Daiki battled with him as if the horen had swords instead of five nasty claws.

  Gerald came out of nowhere, swooping down and striking the horen on the shoulder with his ponderosa sword. The distraction worked and Daiki moved in. He ran the horen through twice. The golden fairy staggered backwards and tripped over the other horen that was just getting up after my fire was put out. A sluagh grabbed both the horen and threw them over one massive shoulder. He marched out of sight to the right and I let out a tense breath. Then Daiki went down on one knee. He didn’t look wounded, but I could only see him from the back. A phalanx rushed forward to assist him, but he brushed him off, slowly getting to his feet. He turned around and I saw four gashes in his neck. Blue blood poured down his front as he staggered toward me. I stared at the gashes. I had the healer’s gift. Grandma Vi said so, and she could stop blood flow with just a look. If she could do it, so could I.

  With every second I felt myself grow weaker as I concentrated. Daiki waved at me to stop, but he didn’t know what I was doing. He dropped his sword arm and dragged his weapon behind him as he picked up speed.

  “No, Matilda!” he yelled.

  I held my breath. I could do it. Grandma said so. Then I passed out.

  When I woke up Daiki was back in the fray. He clashed swords with a sluagh. He no longer staggered and held his sword easily, driving back the sluagh who was three times his girth. Three more katana had joined the fight with their red ants. They released their leads and the ants charged in. They ran over spriggans and went straight for a formation of sluagh, snapping them up in their pincers.

  Overhead, a formation of winged fairies flew in a V. They swooped down and shot arrows. Three spriggans reeled backwards with arrows sprouting from their chests. Galen fairies rushed onto the battlefield and knelt beside phalanx and spriggan alike. They pulled sparkling dust from their waist bags and sprinkled them over wounds. Esmee might’ve been one of them. It was hard to tell with all the movement. I was still on the floor with a great view, mostly of feet. There was no question of getting up; breathing was a struggle.

  I watched the flying fairies swoop with perfect precision until it dawned on me that one of the group
was less than perfect, much less. That one was late with every maneuver, had dull wings, and carried a sword instead of a bow. Gerald. I could hardly believe it. Gerald was really attacking and it wasn’t just a one-time thing. I knew I was pretty bad off, but I began to think I was hallucinating. Gerald usually passed out in the face of danger. He passed out when something might be remotely dangerous. If this change was real, his mom Eunice wasn’t going to be happy. She liked him under her wing and far from trouble.

  Another group of flyers appeared from between two cabinets. They had luminous wings in shades of grey and had unbelievably wide wingspans. They carried no weapons as far as I could tell, but my view was blocked by a group of trolls lumbering into the middle of the battle and looking like they were lost. I’d had some experience with brown-speckled trolls, but these were completely brown and carried short clubs covered with jagged spikes. The new flyers came directly overhead and one pointed at me. I panicked and tried to crawl back into the folds of fabric. I think I moved a finger. Not very impressive. They dove straight at me, pivoting at the last second, and landing lightly on small delicate feet.

  “Matilda?” said one as he knelt at my head. “Iris sent us.”

  “Wzlot?” I asked in a tiny voice.

  “Yes.” He propped me up and got his arms under mine.

  “Alesky, stop,” said the one at my foot. “Look at this. She’s taken all five claws and two are clean through. We can’t move her like this. She’s already yellow.”

  I looked at my hands lying limp in my lap. Sure enough, they were yellow like a ripe banana. “Why am I yellow?”

  “Horen are toxic. Their claws release venom. You got a strong dose.”

  “I tried to take it off.”

  Alesky laid me back down and took my pulse, frowning.

  “I wish you wouldn’t have done that,” said the third wzlot, who was examining my dark yellow foot so closely his nose nearly brushed my toes. “Touching it without the proper spell releases more venom. Alesky, did you see Gilles on the field?”

  “He’s there, treating a spriggan with so many arrows in him that he looks like a porcupine.”