Sir Edge

by Trevor H. Cooley

  The Scralag shook its head as it continued to take the blows. Then it reached its long fingers into its mouth and pulled out the arrow that the elf had fired. Ice formed around the arrow and grew until it resembled a pointed ice javelin that was six feet long.

  With an eerie laugh, the Scralag threw the javelin. The giant saw the throw coming and raised its arm defensively, but the javelin pierced its arm and continued through its chest. With a choked sound, the giant fell dead.

  The elemental pulled another arrow out of its chest and began to form another javelin.

  “This isn’t a creature that can be destroyed physically!” shouted one of the humans. His voice was intelligent for such a scruffy-looking man. “It’s a mere simulacrum!” He cried and looked up the cliff face at Sir Edge. “We must kill that man. He is the source of its magic!”

  Edge was taken aback by the accuracy of the man’s statement. The Scralag would eventually tire as it rebuilt its body over and over again, but the only way to truly hurt it would be to attack the scar on Edge’s chest. This scruffy man was dressed in humble road attire, but he had the knowledge of someone trained by wizards. Could he be the one controlling the others? Edge focused on the man as he pulled back an arrow.

  The man saw him draw and tried to dive to the side, but the Jharro bow didn’t fire the arrow at a normal speed. As Edge let go of the arrow, the wood changed. It stiffened and flexed, sending the arrow at twice the speed of a regular bow. The arrow pierced the man’s ribcage mid-dive.

  The Scralag was struck in the back by another boulder and turned to throw its second ice javelin. The digger beast hurriedly spun around to take the blow to the thick shell on its back. The tip of the ice penetrated into the shell only a short distance before the javelin shattered, but the force of the blow sent the beast stumbling forward and crashing to the ground.

  As Edge watched the situation develop he used a skill that he had gained from his connection with Deathclaw. His thoughts and reactions sped up and the world seemed to slow around him. His eyes darted around the pass, keeping track of what each enemy was doing. It was in this state that Edge saw the enemy elf turn his bow at him and fire.

  He noticed that the bow glowed a soft white. That told him that a spirit was bound to it. This was potentially a problem, but he noticed that when it fired none of that energy was passed on to the arrow. The projectile arced towards him in a predictable speed. Edge slowed the world even further as he leaned to the side and reached out with his hand. His fingers started to close before the arrowhead reached his palm and he caught it mid-shaft.

  Can I attack now? Deathclaw asked, his thoughts amused. The enemy still hadn’t noticed his camouflaged form.

  Yes, now! Edge said, taking the arrow he had just caught and nocking it to his bowstring. He prepared to fire it back at the elf.

  Just as he was about to shoot the arrow, he was interrupted by the unpleasant feeling of his hair standing on end. He noticed that the last remaining human man was pointing at him, his face pinched with concentration. Edge acted instinctively, throwing up a domed mix of air and water magic above his head just as the lightning bolt struck.

  Thanks to the nature of his connection to the Scralag, defensive magic was the only kind of magic Edge could cast outside of the bond. He had become quite good at it, but his shield had been hastily cast. The best defense against electric attack was to ground yourself and channel the energy away from you. The shield didn’t completely reach the ground on either side of Edge and some of the electricity reached around the shield.

  Edge was struck with a flash of pain and his body seized up. As he fell to the ground, his limbs twitching, he gasped aloud and through the bond. “Kill the wizard!”

  The Scralag heard his command and began to form another javelin but was interrupted as a beast slithered forward. The furry giant rock python twined itself around the elemental’s legs and climbed his body in a constricting embrace that crushed the frozen goblins that still clung to the elemental.

  The Scralag flexed its magic, intending to freeze the creature. Frost formed outside the snake, but its movement didn’t slow. This type of python was native to the high mountain crags and there was an innate magic in its body that warded off cold. It climbed higher and attempted to wrap itself around the elemental’s arms.

  In the moments before the lightning bolt struck, Deathclaw had already thrown four of his standard knives, killing four goblins. They were minor enemies, but the closest to his position and easily struck. The hawk spirit inside Retriever had already reached out to gather in the knives he had thrown, but it would take at least half a minute before the weapons rematerialized in his bandoleer.

  Then, as the lightning bolt filled his vision with light, Deathclaw realized that Edge was in real trouble. The remaining goblins had leapt back on the giant spiders and were riding the arachnids toward the cliff face under Edge’s position. In addition, the elf was preparing to fire again, and the human magic user had ducked behind the wagon to prepare another spell. All of these threats were just outside his normal throwing range.

  Hissing, Deathclaw pulled a special throwing knife from his bandoleer. The knife was named Speedy and had been made for him by Lenny Firegobbler, his friend and master weaponsmith. When he threw this particular knife, he had to be careful because the moment it left his fingers, its magic took over. A blast of air magic propelled Speedy in the direction it was thrown as if fired by a crossbow. It would continue in that direction for hundreds of yards if unimpeded.

  There had been times in the past when the knife had missed its target and been lost outside of Retriever’s range. Throwing the knife down from this angle meant that wasn’t a problem, but timing the release with the way the magic engaged was tricky. He focused his concentration and threw.

  His aim was true. A blast of air hurtled the knife forward and it penetrated the elf’s leather armor, piercing its heart. As the bowman fell, clutching his fatal wound, Deathclaw sent a warning thought. Careful, Edge! You have spiders.

  Then the raptoid jumped off the cliff.

  Deathclaw plummeted with his claws extended, aiming his fall. He landed atop one of the remaining orcs, digging into her armor and flesh with his rear talons. He caught her off-guard, but his weight wasn’t enough to bear the strong creature to the ground. The surprised orc cried out and stumbled. The raptoid reached around and tore its throat open with his left hand, then rode it to the ground and rolled towards the wagon and the human hiding behind it.

  The last orc stood in his path and swung her axe, but to Deathclaw’s quickened mind, her movement was sluggish. He ducked under the weapon and dove between her legs, slashing her thighs with his claws as he went. He then continued to the wagon just as the human stood again, another spell ready to be released.

  The man saw the raptoid’s approach at the last second and with wide eyes, tried to turn the spell on him. Deathclaw smelled ozone and felt the air around him crackle just before he struck the man. His teeth gripped the man’s throat and his claws ripped into the man’s abdomen.

  Edge heard Deathclaw’s warning and caught the mental image of the two giant spiders climbing the cliff beneath him, goblins clinging to their hairy legs. Unfortunately, he was still recovering from the effects of the lightning spell. He commanded his twitching and cramping legs to come back under his control.

  His bow was still clutched in his left hand, but he couldn’t get his fingers to let go. He managed to raise his right arm and grasp the hilt of Rage, but the way he was lying he couldn’t draw it all the way from its sheath. He saw the tip of one spider leg grip the top edge of the cliff.

  He was alone and practically helpless. This kind of situation was exactly the kind he needed to avoid as a bonding wizard. All of his bonded were tied to his life force. If he were to die, they would all die too.

  Edge still couldn’t let go of his bow and grasp his left sword, but he reached mentally for the magic of Peace. His pain and worry were sucked away and he
was finally able to force his stubborn legs under control. He climbed to his feet just as the first spider pulled itself over the top. Three goblins dropped down from the deadly creature and ran at him.

  With a mental command, Edge’s bow morphed into a different shape. The bow’s name was Ma’am and like all Jharro weapons, the forms she could take were only limited by her wielder’s understanding of her true nature. She became a sword in his hand, her shape similar to that of his other swords.

  Ma’am’s first swipe lopped off a goblin’s head. He stabbed her through the second goblin and kicked the other one to the side. With his considerable strength, he lifted the squirming goblin in the air and threw it at the spider.

  The spider flinched, giving him time to draw Rage completely. The sword buzzed, hungry to release the energy stored within it. The spider reared up, its fangs dripping with venom and Edge surged forward to meet it.

  Its legs reached for him and he swung Rage at the center of the spider’s eyes. The moment the blade touched its chitin-covered head, he released half of the sword’s pent up energy. At the point of impact, the energy was converted to an explosive blast of pure air magic. The spider’s head blew apart and its huge body tumbled backwards over the cliff’s edge.

  He had no moment to breathe though, for the next spider was already climbing over the lip. The four goblins clinging to its limbs leapt down as the others had and ran at him. Edge swiped Rage in front of him in a horizontal slash.

  This time, he altered the nature of the magic before releasing it and a long blade of air magic extended from tip of his sword. Though the steel of his sword never touched them, the goblins’ flesh gave no resistance as the impossibly thin blade of air cut through their midsections. The four goblins fell into eight pieces.

  He stabbed Ma’am into the ground and drew Peace from its sheath. He faced the last giant spider with both naming weapons in his hands.

  Deathclaw threw the dead magic user to the ground and spat out the man’s blood. No matter how often he was forced to taste the blood of humans, he had never liked it. They tasted too strongly of iron.

  He turned to survey the pass and saw that Artemus was still struggling with the enormous rock python. The digger beast had gotten back to its feet as well and was approaching the elemental, but Deathclaw was more worried about the spiders that were climbing the cliff face.

  He needed to go and assist Edge. Only that last female orc stood in his way. Her thighs were bleeding but the wounds were superficial. Her hard eyes were focused on him and she had taken up one of the axes of her fallen sisters and was waving one in each hand.

  Deathclaw did not want to waste time with her. He drew a throwing dagger from his bandoleer and threw it at her neck. The orc raised her arm and didn’t even flinch when the dagger speared her forearm. She rushed at him, swinging both axes.

  The world slowed around Deathclaw and he ducked under her blows once more. This time she anticipated the move and altered her swipe, bringing one axe down in a backhand. Deathclaw sensed the movement and twisted out of the way, but the tip of the axe cut a deep furrow across his left hand.

  Hissing, Deathclaw rolled to the side and stabbed out with his tail, sending his barb into her kneecap. The orc howled and kicked out at him with her other foot, catching his tail and sending him off balance. Deathclaw struck a large soft boulder and rebounded to come at her again, but his hand was stuck.

  The raptoid turned to see that the boulder he had struck was the trench worm. It’s long tube-like pink mouth had gripped his wounded left hand and it was trying to pull him in as it had the small goblin before, its many rows of curved teeth piercing into the flesh of his arm. Two of the tentacle-like flippers on the trenchworm’s side extended from its fleshy body in jointed arms and tried to encircle him and pull him in closer.

  The Scralag struggled mightily against the powerful snake. The elemental felt no pain from its constricting coils, but it was being kept out of the battle. It had managed to grip the snake’s neck with one hand and was trying to strangle the thing when another boulder struck its back.

  With the snake wrapped around its legs, the Scralag nearly fell over. It whipped its head around and saw the digger beast ripping another large rock from the ground. The tip of the elemental’s ice javelin still protruded from the shell on its back.

  The digger lifted the rock and as it threw it, the Scralag turned its body and held out the snake’s head. The boulder struck the snake a glancing blow, but it dazed the creature just enough that the Scralag was able to pull its other arm from the coils.

  The elemental gripped the snake’s head and forced its jaws open wide. Then, heedless of the python’s curved fangs, it plunged one hand down the snake’s throat. Whatever magic was in the snake to protect it from the cold could not withstand the full fury of the Scralag’s power unleashed within its body.

  The full front quarter of the python’s body froze solid. With a twist of its arms, the Scralag broke that section of the snake free. The digger beast saw this and turned to flee, but the Scralag threw its grizzly prize.

  The frozen head and neck of the snake struck the back of the digger beast with tremendous force and drove the tip of the javelin the rest of the way through its tough shell. The digger beast fell dying and the Scralag turned back to see Deathclaw’s predicament.

  The raptoid had managed to pull Star free from its sheath and cut one of the grasping flipper arms away, but the mouth had pulled his arm further into the trench-worm’s body. He could already feel the powerful acids in its body attacking his wounded hand. To make things worse, the orc had managed to stay on her feet and was limping towards him. She had dropped one axe but was ready to swing at him with the other.

  Deathclaw tore into the trench worm, kicking it with clawed feet, stabbing it with his tail barb, but the thing would not let go of his hand. He stabbed it with Star, and the magical sword stirred to life, its blade glowing red with heat. Steam burst from the wound and the giant fleshy ball quivered, but it continued to try to draw him in. The pain in his hand was excruciating now.

  He glanced back at the orc and saw that she was standing absolutely still. The Scralag stood behind her, one clawed hand plunged into her back. Her body crackled as it froze solid and the elemental casually pushed her over. The orc hit the ground and shattered.

  “Do you need help, Deathclaw?” it asked, amusement in its beady red eyes.

  “No!” Deathclaw hissed. He twisted his red-hot sword in the trench worm’s body, and ichor boiled from within it. The flipper arm that had been trying to grasp him before was flailing at the air. A high-pitched whistle came from somewhere within the thing and steam began to burst out of its mouth around his arm. The skin of the boulder grew taut and began to flush pink.

  “Aren’t you afraid of hurting yourself?” cautioned the Scralag, its voice sounding more like Artemus’.

  Before Deathclaw could reply there was a loud pop. The insides of the trenchworm blew out of the backside of the thing, spraying against the cliff wall. Deathclaw and Artemus stared in surprise at the thing and Deathclaw finally managed to pull his arm free.

  That was when they felt Edge being wounded through the bond.

  This giant spider was larger than the other one and seemed more wary. It circled around him, getting away from the cliff’s edge. Sir Edge’s focus was absolute, his world slowed so that he could follow its every movement. He moved with the spider, making sure that it couldn’t put his back to the cliff.

  When it surged towards him, he was ready. He met it with a double thrust of his swords, prepared to fire off another blast of magic, but it backed away at the last moment. He didn’t let up and he charged toward it, extending another blade of air from Rage. He swiped down with the sword and the air blade caught one of its legs, cutting it nearly in two.

  The spider hissed and withdrew further, the stump of the leg drooling ichor while the rest of the limb dangled limply. Edge let it retreat and rotated around a large rock
, trying to get its back towards the cliff again. He had used most of the magic Rage had stored. He had one more good attack left before he had to fight it with bare steel.

  He readied himself to release it and when he came around the other side of the rock, the spider launched himself at him. He stabbed Rage straight ahead and sent an air blade out from the tip, skewering the creature. The attack wasn’t instantly fatal, though. It continued its charge, letting Rage pierce through its thorax so that it could get close enough for its poisonous fangs to reach him.

  Edge brought the flat of Peace’s blade up under the fangs to keep them off of him. He could feel the poison dripping off of the blade and onto his skin. He strained to keep the weight of the dying creature from bearing him to the ground and this was when he felt the small crude dagger enter his lower back.

  It was the goblin he had kicked aside earlier. He had been so preoccupied with the spider that he had let it slip out of his mind. The thing had snuck up behind him and slipped its blade under the bottom lip of his armor.

  Peace sucked the pain and shock of the wound away, but Edge knew it was a deep one. Letting out a shout, he managed to push the spider aside just as the goblin withdrew the dagger and stabbed again.

  Edge twisted and took this second stab to the hip. He kicked out at the goblin and it fell to the ground, leaving its weapon stuck in his flesh. He swung around with Peace and stabbed the goblin through the chest.

  The moment that his blade pierced the goblin’s flesh, Peace sucked away it’s pain and emotion and, for a moment, their minds were joined. The thoughts within the creature’s mind weren’t the thoughts of a goblin.

  As the goblin had stabbed him, another mind had taken control. It was an odd mind, alien and strange. Its thoughts were both ancient and new. It had powerful spirit magic and a clever method for controlling those in its thrall. This was the Maw.