by T. A. White
“Someone’s controlling it,” I noted.
Liam nodded. “I know.”
Which meant our true enemies hadn’t even revealed themselves yet.
Bright flares of that same green, wound with small strings the rich dark brown of freshly turned dirt, appeared in the ground surrounding the hand.
I backed away, tugging Caroline and Brax with me. “Multiple hostiles incoming.”
Seconds later, blobs appeared from the ground, dirt falling away to reveal skeletal forms made of rock and wood, their “tissue” that of mud and leaves.
Around them a whip of green flame searched across the ground, its movements sinuous and questing as if hunting for prey.
I edged further back, not wanting that thing to touch me. It gave off a sense of wrongness. I sensed it wouldn’t mean good things if it caught hold of any of us.
“Golems,” Liam spat.
Many of them. I counted at least fifteen.
“Damn it, I hate those things,” Nathan complained.
“Can they be killed?” I asked, even knowing it was a pointless question.
“Anything with form can be destroyed,” Liam said grimly.
True, but not always easily or efficiently.
“The problem isn’t killing them; it’s keeping the golem from re-assembling,” Nathan explained.
The golems rushed forward, their hunched forms remaining on all fours in a loping gait as they surged out of the ravine.
“Run,” Liam barked.
I didn’t wait to be told twice, half carrying Brax with me as I raced away. A dry rattling sound followed us, like dead sticks being slammed together.
I didn’t turn around.
Liam and Nathan brought up the rear, guarding our backs as we moved.
Even as I strained for every scrap of speed in me, Caroline doing the same at my side, I knew it wasn’t going to be enough.
The golems were too fast, their odd skittering movements eating up the ground, and we were too slow. Even if Brax had been able to run on his own, I doubted we would have been fast enough.
They were playing with us, veering close and then falling away.
Liam punched through the chest of one as it leapt for the three of us. His hand emerged on the other side. The huge hole in its middle didn’t seem to bother it as it writhed and wiggled, trying to tug itself closer.
Liam grabbed its torso with his other hand, ripping it in two. It crumbled into so much dirt, the flame at its center winking out.
Nathan was similarly occupied on the other side of us, this time with two golems that had started to merge into one, like some weird variation on a Siamese twin. Only the head of one had disappeared, leaving the main torso with too many arms and legs in an awkward amalgam of the two.
“I need to change,” Caroline said, fear in her voice.
Any effects from the alcohol and fairy tears were gone, leaving both of us stone-cold sober.
“No time,” Brax grunted beside me. “They’ll be on you before you complete your shift. They’ll rip you apart while you’re vulnerable.”
Frustration was evident in his voice as he kept up a staggering run beside us, using his injured leg in a way that would have caused permanent damage in a human. It should have been impossible, but I knew firsthand the stubborn persistence even humans could draw out of themselves when they felt their life was in danger. I’d seen soldiers on the battlefield force themselves to walk to safety after being wounded, so their battle buddies didn’t have place their lives in danger to rescue them.
For Brax, it would be worse, with his wolf demanding to shift so it could heal him and defend them from threats.
That he remained relatively human, fur dotting his arms and his eyes the ice blue of his wolf, was a miracle and a testament to his iron will.
“We’re not far from Lou’s Bar. If we can make it, my wolves can help,” he grunted.
Close was a relative term. I’d been to Lou’s several times before, sometimes welcomed, sometimes to stir the pot.
Nathan had turned toward the bar’s neighborhood after we’d left the Blue Pickle. As the crow flies, we were maybe just under a mile away. Not too far for a vampire and werewolf. But it would mean going back the way we’d come through the golem creatures. Something I doubted any of us wanted to do.
I looked back as Liam shouted something in Gaelic, his face creased in a slight smile as he tossed one golem like a bowling ball at its brethren. Nathan tore the head off his own golem before using it to bludgeon another.
“They look like they’re having fun,” I remarked, tightening my grip on Brax.
“I may be a wolf in truth, but Liam was once known as the Black Wolf of the Galway,” Brax said as we moved. “He was a war leader, fierce and said to have once eaten the heart of a wolf to consume its power, strength and cunning. The civilized man he presents is just a mask. At his core, he’s a killer.”
I could see that. He seemed perfectly at home disassembling the golems as they tried to swarm past him, breaking them with sharp blows before tossing them away like broken dolls.
Still, he and Nathan were only two people. Each time they took apart one golem, two more rose in its place.
We needed to limit the avenue of attack until help could reach us. I knew just the spot.
“I have an idea,” I said, before leading Brax and Caroline in the opposite direction of his bar.
The three of us limped across a yard and onto another street, Nathan and Liam battling at our rear.
The sound of pebbles skating down a roof next to us drew my attention.
A golem perched there, crouching to leap. He sailed through the air. With a nasty snarl, Caroline leapt to meet him.
She grabbed him by the throat, the tips of her fingernails hardening into claws. She raked them down his face, snarling the entire time.
The golem kept coming, the little flame of power flickering merrily.
“His chest, Caroline,” I called. “Destroy his chest.”
She listened, plunging her arm in up to her elbow and yanking her fist out. The golem crumpled into dirt in her hand.
She met my gaze with wide eyes, holding her fist out to me. She opened it to reveal a pea sized stone, one that lit up my othersight with the same flame I’d seen in the golem.
That’s how they were animating these things.
“Don’t let it touch the dirt,” I warned.
She nodded and pocketed it, not arguing with me.
“We’re not far now,” I told her, adjusting Brax’s arm over my shoulder.
Liam and Nathan had nearly caught up to us by this point, some of the golems keeping them occupied as the rest spilled around them and headed for us.
“Aileen,” Caroline warned.
“I see them. We’re almost there.”
We cut through the yard, emerging onto the next street. Hector’s bridge was a dull shadow in the distance. There were no streetlights on this street or next to the small ravine. The only light was what was provided by the houses.
I pulled Brax along with me, heading for the bridge. We stumbled onto it and I lowered Brax down, setting him against the stone side.
“This is your plan,” Caroline asked, gesturing at the bridge. “Aileen, we’re surrounded by dirt.”
I ignored her, running to the bridge’s side and peering down into the darkness. “Hector, look alive, buddy. You’ve got company.”
Liam and Nathan pelted out of the dark, their skin almost glowing white as they streaked toward us. They slid to a stop on the bridge, Liam’s gaze appraising as he took it in.
“A bridge. You’re hoping a troll is under it,” he said in realization.
“I know there’s a troll under it,” I told him.
He inclined his head. “If you’re right, they’re notoriously protective of those who use their bridge and even more difficult to kill.”
Just what I was thinking too.
He gave me a seductive smile. “Very smart.”
“I have my moments,” I told him.
The golems appeared at the end of the bridge, their makeshift forms shedding dirt and forest debris. It fell off them in clumps. Whatever magic had kept them animated was fading, but not fast enough.
“Caroline, howl,” I ordered, not taking my eyes off the golems or the snaking lines stretching out behind them.
The golems’ creator wasn’t far, I’d wager. They thought they sensed the end to the hunt, that we were tired and weak, defeated and ready for the kill.
A haunting sound lifted to the sky as Caroline tipped her head back. It was the call of the wild, a cry for help from one who was pack. If any of Brax’s people heard it, they’d come.
The golems inched onto the bridge, their eyeless faces turned toward us as if they could see. One jumped up onto the railing and skittered across it towards us.
“Any time now,” Nathan said, his body going tense as the golems advanced.
They were twenty feet away, now ten.
“Where is the troll?” Liam asked, his voice tight.
I shook my head. The golems were on the bridge by now. Hector should have reacted. I ran to the side of the bridge and looked down. Come on, big guy. Where are you?
“We’re going to have to run,” Liam ordered. “Aileen, take Brax and Caroline. Nathan and I will try to hold them off.”
I didn’t listen, too busy staring down into the dark. The flash of white fur and antlers caught my eye just as the stag moved out of sight. There was a low snort from under the bridge.
This was the second time the stag had made himself known to me in one night. It meant something. I just had to figure out what.
“I’ll be right back,” I called to Liam. I didn’t wait for a response, ignoring his order to stop as I threw my leg over the railing and jumped.
I landed with a grunt. The bridge wasn’t high off the ground and I made jumps higher than that every day, but the abuse my body had taken earlier was making itself known.
I turned to look under the bridge and froze.
I’d been right. The stag had wanted my attention. He stood on Hector’s chest, dwarfed by my friend’s considerable size. Hector’s large body was curled into a ball, his head nearly bumping against the supports of the bridge above him. I’d never seen all of him before. Just an occasional hand or part of his head. He was even bigger than I’d imagined.
I didn’t know how he could live under this small bridge. He must be more than ten feet tall and was almost as wide as he was tall.
That wasn’t what surprised me, however. The stag stomped his foot and snorted, tossing his head at a cocoon the color of moonlight, shimmering with an opalescent sheen. A large butterfly, the size of a small child, with insubstantial wings of white fluttered on Hector’s face.
I realized with a start that its mouth was in the shape of a long tube and it was feeding on Hector. With every flutter of its wings, Hector’s breath grew more and more shallow while the rock-grey color of his skin got paler until it was close to a chalky greyish-white.
The unmistakable sounds of fighting came from above me. The distinctive growl of Caroline’s wolf told me she’d found time to transform.
There were several thumps behind me as golems dropped off the bridge. I’d hoped Liam and the rest would keep them occupied for a while. No such luck.
More and more golems fell, like muddy rain from the sky. How were there so many? There hadn’t been that many before.
When I looked back, the stag was gone but his message was clear. I needed to get the butterfly creature away from Hector if I wanted my friend’s help.
I didn’t waste time thinking, darting toward Hector. I could consider how the damn golems had multiplied later. For now, I needed to get my friend upright and lucid.
First order of business was that butterfly. I had a feeling it was the biggest reason for Hector’s apparent coma.
I grabbed a rock and tossed it at the butterfly, watching in disbelief as it sailed through the insect’s form as if the butterfly was as substantial as air.
Shit. Not good.
If it wasn’t really there, my job had just gotten a lot more difficult. I had about three seconds to figure out how to free Hector from the creature’s influence before the golems permanently solved all my problems for me.
I grabbed onto a piece of Hector’s trousers, using it to leverage myself onto his reclining body. I scrambled up his massive leg and onto his chest as the golems rushed forward.
I did my best to avoid any of the white strands of the cocoon as I climbed higher. I wasn’t sure if they would affect me, but I wasn’t taking any chances. The last thing I wanted was to become immobilized while the golems tore me apart.
Panic gripped me as one of the golems leapt, catching hold of a foot. I kicked back with the other foot, knocking it away. He slipped off, taking one of my shoes with him.
More and more of them spilled over the edge of the bridge.
There wasn’t a lot of time.
The golems milled in front of Hector, seeming unsure what to do. I didn’t know why the rest hadn’t followed me up here, but I was grateful for the reprieve and space to think.
I reached down and grabbed some of the strands, swearing as they slipped through my hands.
Except one. That one lifted from Hector, snapping out to wrap around my wrist. I fell to my knees, my eyes suddenly heavier than they’d ever been. Even the sun had never made me feel like this, as if staying awake a single moment longer would kill me.
Still, I resisted, knowing if I collapsed now, I was done for. Worse, my friends above would be left to deal with the fallout from my brilliant plan.
I propped myself up with my other hand, my head bowing as I struggled to stay awake.
I touched the strands softly. They shimmered in my othersight. The disconnect between what I felt and what I saw was disconcerting. Just when I thought I’d gotten used to the oddness of seeing a world that no one else could, things like this happened.
I concentrated on feeling the strands. Carefully I plucked at them, willing them to shift, just a bit.
I looked deeper into their soft glow. Ah, there. In the deepest part of them was a small spark, one that I could feel as well as see. I gently grasped it, pulling with my mind as well as my body.
It was like watching a skein of wool caught on the smallest of splinters. Snag it and pull on it enough and eventually it’ll ruin the whole pattern you’re trying to make, turning it into a snarled, fuzzy mess.
That was what I concentrated on doing. Pulling on it until it barely resembled the pattern of before.
A few golems had gotten over whatever fear had kept them from following me, creeping onto Hector with small, awkward leaps.
More. Just a little more.
One of the golems landed beside me, its twig-like hands reaching for me.
I wrenched hard, feeling my mind protest. The skein fell apart, the butterfly dissolving into nothingness and taking its cocoon with it.
Out of the deep abyss, a small spark raced, gathering speed and mass. I fought to get away, knowing when it hit it would feel like a freight train. The light of its magic was searing in its intensity, burning the shape of the stag into my eyeballs.
Hector rolled, unseating me and freeing me from the spell’s clutches. I tumbled onto his lap as a groan rumbled from his chest.
A large hand came up, slapping the golem to him and turning it into a brown stain. Hector’s head lifted and he looked down at me with groggy eyes.
“Aileen, what are you doing here?” he rumbled.
I gave him a loopy smile. “Thought you could use a wake-up from your nap.”
He glanced around with a furrowed brow. On a bridge troll, a frown was the stuff of nightmares. It was an expression that said you were about to be pounded as flat as a fly on a windshield.
His mouth dropped open at the sight of the golems that were trying to climb up his leg.
“I could use a little help,
” I told him, falling sideways, suddenly too exhausted to support my own weight. My wrist throbbed sharply, reminding me that I hadn’t come through the car crash entirely unharmed.
One of his big paws caught me, preventing me from rolling off him. He set me behind him, as if the golems attacking were no more than irritating bugs to him.
“Stay there,” he told me.
I gave him a thumbs-up with my good hand, keeping the injured wrist tucked in close. Staying put wasn’t going to be a problem.
I watched, as ducking under the supports of the bridge, Hector focused on the golems.
He lifted one foot, stomping hard and crushing several of the creatures. He reached down, sweeping several of them up before tossing them towards the small creek that ran under the bridge.
After that, Hector kicked and stomped his way through the golems, never once flinching as they tried to attack him en masse. His large rocky body eclipsed the bridge as he swung with abandon, seemingly happy, if the chortles coming from him were anything to judge by.
Furry streaks poured from the road above—Brax’s wolves finally joining the fight. They attacked those golems who tried to scurry around Hector’s feet, dispatching them with violent pounces and vicious shakes of the head.
Hector grabbed one golem in a meaty paw before body-slamming it into the ground, leaving nothing behind but a wet, muddy smear. I’d like to see the thing regenerate from that.
Liam and Nathan waited until the remaining golems were dispatched and Hector had moved away before dropping from above then moving toward me with powerful strides. I remained where I was, exhausted, in pain, and still slightly drunk.
This was not how I pictured my evening ending.
CHAPTER SEVEN
My head felt like a marching band was performing on it. I curled up into a ball, pulling a cover over my head as I tried to reclaim the slumber that had been mine until just a few seconds ago.
My mouth tasted like a cross between sawdust and a football player’s gym bag.
Everything ached. My body, my teeth, my eyes. Even my hair.
I just wanted the world to go away and come back later. A ringing under my bed told me that wasn’t going to happen.