A Monster Inside, page 25
part #1 of Undying Prince Series
Eyes blinking away tears, Númi watched the pigeon pass through the ball of water and smash to the ground, lifeless. The ball of water contorted until it had assumed the shape of the dead bird. Flapping transparent wings, it circled the room, gazing down at him with ruby colored eyes.
“What have you done?” Númi gasped and climbed to his feet. His hand wrapped around the hilt of his longsword. The water pigeon eyes were too similar to those of a Fiendlord’s. He did not like that—he did not like that at all, but he left his weapon sheathed.
“See for yourself.” Asbjörn extended his arm and opened his hand, and the water pigeon landed on his palm, staring at Númi all the while.
Númi moistened his dry mouth. “Is it alive?” He approached the Cultivator and poked the water bird with his finger. It gave slightly at his touch but did not break or wet his finger.
“Careful. It’s very fragile,” Asbjörn said. “And yes, it’s alive, but it needs me to keep it that way. What do you think?”
Númi took a step back. That last part had come out of the bird’s mouth in Asbjörn’s voice. “H-how did you. . . .” Stupid question. How else?
“It’s like an extension of myself. I can even perform Esoteric Techniques through it in a limited way.”
Númi turned away from Asbjörn and used a rug to lift the squealing kettle from the fire. I hope there’s still enough water to make a cup of tea. He froze. This expedition had changed him in ways he was just beginning to take note of. The constant fear and lack of sleep had made him . . . weak.
He shook his head. No, it happened before that. The first crack in his armor had appeared with the death of his son when he wept like a drunken whore. And now he was whining about tea. How far have I fallen? He sighed. Everything is a lie. Even through the rug, the handle began to burn his hand. Stone-faced, he placed it on the ground and turned to Asbjörn.
“I just realized I’m old.” Númi laughed. “Isn’t that a silly thought to have? I’m a hundred and ten years old, but this is the first time I’ve felt my age.” He sighed. “How is that bird supposed to help us?”
“It can cover more ground from the air.”
“You said it was dangerous, what you just did.”
Asbjörn nodded. “Very. It leaves an opening within my barrier. The sooner I can dispel this creature the better for both of us.”
After a quick bowl of tea, Númi hurried to ready the horses while Asbjörn sat in a corner whispering to his creation. Númi kept the Cultivator in his line of sight at all times as he finished his tasks. He approached Asbjörn when he was done.
Asbjörn stood. “Ready?” Númi gave a short nod. “Good, the longer I leave The Earth Entwines in place, the more real it becomes. Much longer and we will be digging our way out.”
Númi bowed, hand to heart, and the Cultivator wrinkled his nose. Númi laughed to himself. He had come to understand the man a lot better over the last few weeks, which meant he knew just how to get under his skin.
Asbjörn unsheathed his longsword and thrust it into the wall. The black stone flared red where the blade touched it. From the blade, glowing cracks spread, consuming the building like a dropped egg. The cracks grew larger and brighter with each passing second until stone transformed into sickly flickering light. With a rush of wind and light, the walls and roof disappeared as if they had never been there. The only remnant of the structure was the stone floor and horse stalls.
A gust of fresh air swayed Númi’s gray top-knot, and the first rays of morning fell upon him. He glanced at the clearing they had made camp within the night before. The water bird launched into the sky from its perch on Asbjörn’s shoulder, and a small smile grazed Númi’s lips. Soon. Soon it will all be over.
Chapter 30
Beneath a cloudless sky, the sounds of battle drifted on the wind.
Erik ascended a steep rocky slope, carefully navigating past ancient rubble. All around him, stone heads jutted out of the ground, weathered by wind and rain until their details were lost to time. The air hammered him with raised voices and a deep rumble that worked its way into his bones. Icicles prickled the nape of his neck. There was no telling what exactly lay ahead, but he had an idea.
I don’t see the point in this, Patrick said. You already know what you will find. You could smell them from kilometers away.
“I want to be sure,” Erik said. I need to be sure. He did not quite have complete confidence in all his new abilities and knew he would not for some time to come.
The sun had dipped from its apex and now hung out in front of him. Lifting his hand to block the glare, he stopped at the edge of the cliff and peered down at the long valley below. Two opposing armies of Dökk clashed, numbering in the tens of thousands. Fused-teethed and black-eyed, they howled and stabbed at each other with bone weapons. Blood flowed with almost every thrust like red wine from a punctured barrel. Sunlight glittered off the dark shards embedded in their foreheads, adding an odd note of beauty to the roiling maelstrom of gray flesh, red fluid, and white spears.
See? Exactly what you expected, Patrick said.
“But now I’m sure,” Erik said. “So little is known about these creatures, the more I learn, the better. One day that information might prove useful. You never know.”
Patrick laughed. Do you want to know what I think?
“No.” Erik crouched down to make himself less visible. The ground shifted slightly under him. “I really don’t.”
I think you’re afraid. Patrick’s voice was firm but no less mocking than it had been moments before. You have no idea how you’re going to explain what happened at the foot of Hjörtur. If enough people saw you transform into the Celestial Dragon, they will try to kill you if you return. Then you’ll have to make a choice, but either way, you’ll be exiled. Separated from your past and your gilded last name, the throne forever out of your grasp.
Erik looked away from the battle and glanced at the winding river that skirted the edge of the valley. “You do realize that we’re in this together? Whatever happens to me, happens to you.”
You’re right. Patrick snorted. But it’s the small things that keep you going at the end of the world.
A tingle ran through Erik. “What did you just say?” Those were the exact same words that Asbjörn had once spoken to him. What were the chances that Patrick would randomly say the same thing at this moment? He knew that he had never uttered those words to the Lightbender. The idea that his memories might be unknowingly drifting over to Patrick knotted Erik’s stomach.
I said, it’s the—what’s wrong?
The ground shifted, falling away beneath Erik’s feet. He stumbled, turning to fling his arms out as the cliff tilted forward. His hands found purchase on a protruding rock, but it broke apart, sending him tumbling toward the valley below. Sweat gushed forth from his pores. Grasping the Aspect of Air from the Abyss, he twisted his fingers and performed Soft Cocoon.
The air distorted before his eyes, and the ground smashed into the invisible weaves wrapped around his body. His chest and arms ached painfully as he rolled down the pile of earth and rock. Protected by the Esoteric Hand Technique, he landed on the grass in a jumble, bruised but unharmed. He struggled, trying to get air into his lungs. Soft Cocoon was keeping all the fresh air out. He unraveled the shield, noting that only a small puddle of prana remained inside his inner void.
Between the pounding of his hearts and the roaring of his blood, Erik was only vaguely aware that the din of battle was slowly falling silent. He climbed to his knees, eyes glancing around.
In front of him, the fighting had stopped. But his powerful ears still picked up the sound of isolated pockets of conflict. As one, a thousand pairs of eyes turned to stare at him, drilling into his soul with a menacing sameness.
“Shit,” Erik said. With his new abilities, he was not afraid of a few hundred Dökk, but there were over twenty thousand of them arrayed on the valley floor. That, along with the fact that he was almost out of prana, filled him with wariness. “Double shit.”
Do you want to hear a joke? Patrick asked as a wave of Dökk dashed forward, snarling and thrusting spears. I don’t know if you will like it, but it’s a great one.
Erik leaped to his feet. A heartbeat it took, and they were upon him, striving to pincushion him with their weapons. His hearts quickened, and the world slowed. Caught in the act of running, the Dökk in front of Erik looked like they were frozen in time. If not for the slow pulse of blood in their veins, he would have thought they were lifelike statues. His hand reached out and wrenched away one of the spears driving toward him. The weapon came under his control as he spun, wielding it as a quarterstaff to smash through another Dökk’s skull like an overripe piece of fruit. A mixture of blood, bones, and brains spewed into the air.
The joke goes like this, Patrick began over the sound of the Celestial Dragon’s budding fury.
Erik stepped forward, always forward, haft whirling as he slashed and stabbed. He was a cyclone, moving at a walk through an endless forest of humanoid-shaped trees. A moment after he passed, a gray monstrosity would rupture in his wake. For once he regretted his nocturnal activities as a youth; he should have spent more time practicing with a spear. The way of it seemed unfamiliar at first, but it did not appear to matter against stationary targets. Yet his lack of skill bothered him all the same.
A student walked over five hundred kilometers to visit a great master, Patrick said. When he finally arrived at the master’s grand abode, he found the man head down, tending his crops. The student said, ‘Oh great master, I have walked five hundred kilometers to ask you one question. What is the key to a honorable life?’
After countless swings and thrusts, the bone spear splintered within Erik’s grip. Jagged fragments exploded toward his face. He closed his eyes and pushed onward, weathering the storm. His cheeks stung as they were sliced, but it was nothing more than he could handle. With his healing ability, it amounted to less than a bee sting. He sensed his flesh mend even as it tore.
The master kept on tending his crops. The Lightbender’s voice helped counter the distorted tones of battle that crashed upon Erik. Believing there was some sort of profound truth hidden in that act, the student joined the master in the field. Over the next ten years, the student lived with the master and his wife. Every morning he would wake up at dawn to work the fields with the master until sundown. One day the master fell ill and lay on his deathbed.
Drenched in scarlet, Erik opened his eyes and slammed his foot into the two-meter-tall Dökk blocking his path. The force of the blow launched the creature off into the sky like a kite drifting on an updraft. Pivoting on his back leg, he caught the spear that fell from the Dökk’s hand and used the momentum he had built to flow into his next attack.
The student said, ‘Oh great master, I have worked beside you for the last ten years with never a complaint just so you would answer one question. What is the key to a honorable life?’ The Lightbender lowered his voice. The great master pulled the student close and opened his mouth. That’s when the student noticed that the master had no tongue. Cue laughter. End joke.
Erik stumbled and came to an abrupt stop, lurching time back into its normal rhythm. Cries and howls filled the air, and the Dökk he had kicked into the sky came crashing back down with the sound of breaking bones. Behind the Prince lay a path of gruesome destruction, littered with still thrashing Gray Skins. The sea of gray shifted around him, but he was blind to it all. What Patrick had just said touched him in a way he could not quite explain. It made him feel. . . . Tears swelled in his eyes.
He gave a short bark of laughter. “I’m. . . .” The Dökk closest to him all took a step back. “I’m the student?” He did not understand why the Lightbender’s words were affecting him like this. It was as if some deep truth was hanging just in front of him and all he had to do was grasp it.
You could have climbed back up the cliff after you fell down, but instead, you rushed forward, Patrick said. Why? Do you even know?
Forward was the quickest way home. Erik sniffed the air and immediately regretted it. The reek of the dead and dying overwhelmed him for a moment before he could shut off his sense of smell.
Patrick grunted. You couldn’t go around them?
Lost in thought, Erik glanced down at the weapon in his hands and absentmindedly deflected a spear thrust at him. Erik’s weapon punctured the attacker’s throat. It jerked and fell back, still trying to jab at him, jab at anything. The Prince had moved by instinct.
“Thank you for showing me my circle.” The Lightbender did not understand—Erik could see that—but it did not matter. He lifted his spear and glared out at his enemies. Even as he did that, his body shifted, just avoiding the weapon that tried to impale him from behind. “No, there is no backward or around for someone such as me. This is my—”
An invisible force struck Erik’s side, a violent blast of energy that lifted him off his feet and flung him into the Gray Skins. The blow and the subsequent tumble across the ground brought bones to the point of breaking. Gagging and struggling to free himself from the pile of twitching limbs he lay upon, Erik looked back the way he came. A one-eyed Dökk stared at him, its arm outstretched.
The air shimmered around the one-eyed Dökk, and it appeared next to Erik, traversing over twenty meters in an instant. Erik crossed his arms to protect himself from the one-eyed Dökk’s palm descending toward his chest. Every inch of his body weighed a thousand pounds. His lungs were on fire, and his eyeballs felt like they were about to explode. He groaned, sensing the Gray Skins beneath him slowly turning into meat paste as their bodies were crushed by the force pushing down on him.
The one-eyed Dökk smiled, revealing dirty fused teeth.
I blame you! Erik told Patrick. Next time keep your fucking comments and jokes to yourself! His flesh began to flow like mud. Do you understand me?
Don’t try to pin this on me! Patrick shouted. You’re the idiot who thought it was a good idea to take on two armies by yourself.
“I’m not alone!” Erik screamed through a pulverized throat. When will you realize that? Less than an eye blink later his body erupted, unfolding into an enormous bird with midnight feathers the size of palm leaves. With the transformation came a different perception of the world. New colors bloomed into existence, adding more depth and beauty to his surroundings.
The one-eyed Dökk fell onto its back, and the force beating down on Erik vanished.
Savage blasts of wind exploded from beneath Erik’s twenty-meter-long wings; he leaped into the sky, propelled by furious jets of air that appeared every time he flapped his wings. His large bird heart soared with a sense of freedom. A vast landscape opened up below, tiny Dökk waving their weapons at the heavens, glistening water flowing down a winding river, all glimpsed through his new vision.
An unseen force yanked at Erik, shattering bones in his left wing. He plunged toward the ground, howling out in a loud bird cry. But he was not idle. Even as he fell he was transforming his body, ridding it of all its bones. The valley floor rose to meet him filled with Dökk and their sea of spears. He landed in a confusion of shouts and howls and sharp pains brought upon by objects entering his massive body. The Dökk spun away or got crushed beneath his rolling mass.
Erik gasped, struggling to gain some sort of control over his body. He had to do this right. A misstep here, and he would lose his life. Following instinct more than intellect, he forced his roiling flesh to contract in on itself, morphing himself into a gray dire wolf. Colors faded from his vision, reducing everything to a world of black and white. Odors from kilometers away rushed into his snout. The scent of slaughter cut through all the rest, making his wolf instincts and the Celestial Dragon’s desire beat in tune.
RIP! TEAR!
A dozen spears sailed from the hands of Dökk toward Erik. He dodged the weapons, sprinting on four legs faster than his enemies could even register. His legs blurred, slashing through the valley floor. The Prince had learned his lesson; he did not plan on stopping until he was well clear of the battlefield.
He pushed himself faster, dashing past long limbs, leaving Dökk stumbling in his wake. His fur shifted gently, as if stroked by a soft breeze. Twice he had to plough over a Gray Skin who blocked his path. They all moved too slowly to even think of touching him.
Erik jumped into the river and promptly sank like a rock. He was now too heavy to float, but he did not allow himself to panic. Surrounded by fresh water fish, he made his way along the unlit depths of the riverbed. He could not have said if he walked for minutes or hours, but eventually the river poured into a large lake, and he dragged himself onto the shore, resuming his human form. He flopped onto his back and gasped for breath; it felt like the weariness went all the way into his soul.
Never a dull moment, is there? Patrick said.
Erik frowned. A bird circled in the sky above, but it was unlike any bird he had ever seen or heard of. With his enhanced eyesight, he could make out details that would be impossible for anyone else. The bird was crystal clear except for its scarlet eyes, and seemed to be made of water.
Chapter 31
A bird made of water? Now I’ve seen everything, Patrick said.
Erik shook his head. “That makes little sense. Elements can’t be alive. What’s next? Earth dogs and fire cats?” The water bird made another slow circle in the sky above.
Patrick snorted. Sense? How does any of this make sense?
Erik could not agree more with the Lightbender’s words. The Northern Reaches kept shattering his understanding of what was possible. But was this any stranger than him falling into the Dark One’s prison? His hearts spiked, and he closed his eyes. Elina, forgive me! It all came rushing back. All of what he had done. Mother, what did I do?
The wind gusted up, blowing across the Prince, tossing his hair as it moved toward the rippling surface of the lake. With the wind came a new assortment of scents and odors.
