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A Fistful of Dust
96. 18th Hour: Make a Stand

96. 18th Hour: Make a Stand

Paul

They spent hours searching. The others thought they were nearing a target, though Paul knew every node gave them an equal chance of lucking into a mountain. They bounded across a desert on Wendi’s shoulders, the sand yielding slow progress.

“It’s dry enough,” Wendi said. “And there are hills!”

“No stable footing, though,” Daniel countered.

What concerned Rana, however, was that the sun eluded them.

“The Black Dog is Water Domain and Night Domain, but which is more important?” Rana talked to herself as she donned her mittens and socks. The stress seemed to even be getting to her.

Day and night are a coin flip. What were the chances of going from night to night, world after world? Daniel would know.

“Isn’t Cassie Night Domain?” the young angel asked from below deck.

“You expecting her to throw a punch, Dan?” Kenta said, cracking an eye open. “Say she’s twice as strong with the sun down. What’s two times zero? You’re good at math.” Silence. “Right. Be quiet so we can get some shut-eye.”

Paul saw the desert night’s bitter cold from how the others layered blankets and coats while snuggling into Kenta’s hair. Rana rubbed her arms to improve circulation and make some friction heat. In his heavy armor, Paul felt nothing. The moonless, dark, and high rolling hills made his telescope almost useless. Anything could sneak up on them.

As Paul gazed at the far dunes, a dark spot moved. He glimpsed claws and a stinger by starlight before they slid into the sand and disappeared. Beast, Wildling, or monster? He couldn’t begin to guess.

Lea sat up. “Do you hear that?”

“A bell?” Rana said, lifting the hood of her fur jacket.

Cassie slept like the dead.

Straining his senses, Paul listened and waited. After a moment, he heard it. A deep dull tolling rang over the sand and echoed through the dunes.

Again, and louder.

“Wendi, can we go any faster?” Paul asked.

The bell sounded again, sooner than before. It was getting closer.

“This is my top speed,” Wendi announced.

Kenta stirred. “Seriously, can we please turn down the racket?”

“We might be in for a fight,” Daniel said from below deck, and Kenta straightened, alert.

The clanging became thunderous, its source on the opposite side of the nearest dune. Cassie squirmed and struggled in her dream, unable to wake even as Rana shook her. A patch of sand a hundred yards distant exploded as a shiny black shape leaped from cover and skittered their way. A bus-sized scorpion rushed them, claws snapping.

Paul fired a palm laser on reflex to discover the arthropod’s glossy shell diffused and reflected the beam into dangerous splinters of light. He discarded that Actualization as a waste of energy.

The origin of the ominous knells rounded the dune in a reckless charge as Paul’s friends prepared to defend themselves. A tremendous bull five stories tall at the shoulder bellowed like a dozen steam locomotives. This was no domestic beast grown fat on cattle feed. The bull was lean and wild, with severe bones straining thick skin bulging with bunches of muscles.

Stolen story; please report.

Long curving horns swung like scythes over the sand. Dark liquid streamed from metal bands at the horns’ bases to drip from the spear-sharp tips. A cowbell, taller than a man and forged from bronze, swung from the bull’s neck. The metalwork displayed scenes of drunken cavorting minotaurs. These engravings glowed dreamily in the dim. Each toll of the bell emitted an aura pulse that resonated with every living thing within hearing.

Stark white finching split the bull’s brown brindled sides along the spine, face pale as a skull. Two blazing red eyes glinted in their recessions like rubies.

Wendi fled faster than Paul could run or Lea hover. The scorpion skittered forward, stinger beading fat drops of venom, gaining on them by the second in a last desperate scramble to kill before it died.

The bull was upon them both in an instant.

Instead of its hooves sinking into the speed-stealing sand, the bull bounded on the dunes like springboards. Then, with a final arcing leap and dive, the bull plunged its right horn into the scorpion’s exoskeleton.

The colossal impact’s shockwave unbalanced Wendi with a minor sand-slide. She stumbled to an awkward stop that spilled her passengers onto the dune.

A hoof crushed the remaining vestiges of life from the scorpion’s body, and the creature gave a grating screech in expiration. The bull withdrew its horn from the chitinous body pinned to the ground. The shaft, slathered in ichor, dribbled a mixture of mysterious dark liquid and scorpion blood into the bull’s mouth.

Two red eyes burned brighter for a moment then narrowed at the children.

Kenta tucked Cassie into the depths of his hair and stood. “A Kaminoke dies on his feet.”

While the others righted themselves and readied to fight, Paul tested his hand blast at a few hypothetical vulnerabilities. The bull’s retribution would be swift and devastating. His Actualizations were useless with the power disparity this vast. Paul chose inaction in the face of overwhelming odds.

Huge nostrils flared, sniffed, and then snorted a gust of humid wind. A crimson gaze flickered from child to child. After a heart-stopping moment, the bull turned away. In a voice like a foghorn over the water, the bull spoke as he departed, “Run along, little cousin.”

When the bull rounded the dune, out of sight, they all collapsed

“W-what happened?” Lea asked, teeth chattering with cold and fear.

Daniel, body shaking just as hard, glanced at Wendi. “Bovine cattle and caprine goats are both members of the Bovidae family.”

“Congratulations,” Rana told the dazed Caprid girl. “You’re the first to save our lives by being born.”

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Paul’s Portal Ring led them to a node exiting the desert onto a barren field with a full moon high above. He didn’t know much about the Black Dogs, but he couldn’t imagine that being a ‘good thing’ when fighting one. From Rana’s expression, she didn’t think so either.

“Let’s keep moving,” Daniel said. Paul gave them a new heading with his fingers crossed.

Thankfully, Paul spotted the entrance of a red bubble hall on the horizon through his telescope. They made good time with Wendi now on solid ground. A bright moon meant more light and, as they approached the entrance, they saw a mountain rise on their left.

“Hey, Paul, should we head for that mountain instead?” Daniel said, obviously confused they weren’t already headed in that direction.

The question startled him. If Paul could sweat… He shifted his gaze through the telescope towards the mountain as if looking for answers when in reality, he floundered for excuses. It took him a second to process the bizarre sight, then turned to Daniel and announced, “That’s no mountain!”

Paul had seen a tortoise of nigh-incomprehensible size through his telescope. A massive cathedral carved from the very shell crowned this towering terrapin. Hundreds of spires overlooked the plains with impossibly tall vaults and lifelike gargoyles by the thousands on full display.

The gargoyles stirred.

Dozens of statues woke and took to the air, several headed in their direction.

“Get inside,” Rana said. When the others faltered, she added, “Now!”

Wendi ducked through the purple interlock into the red bubble hall as a storm of gargoyles filled the skies. She ran, carrying them towards the nearest node, but no one felt safe until they crossed into another world.

Paul couldn’t believe how much trouble they’d met in the past few hours. Traveling with the active magic of Cassie’s giant bat form was one thing, but Wendi and Kenta weren’t broadcasting their presence. While luck alone couldn’t explain it, Paul didn’t want to accept the importance of his now-absent Pathfinding. He rationalized their encounters as what happened without Cassie’s Hearing to listen for danger.

They found themselves on a dry world of hills and valleys, though the night persisted. “Good job, Paul!” Daniel said, “We found it, a place to make our stand.”

The red devil girl came to a halt, collapsing onto her front. Daniel slipped off her back, Lea floated up on her caramboles, and Kenta caught the others as his hair unentangled from Wendi’s horns.

“You guys are heavy,” Wendi wheezed as she reclined spreadeagle on the ground. “Five-minute breather.”

Rana wasn’t satisfied. “It’s not day.”

“What should we do?” Lea thought aloud, “Keep looking for the perfect spot, or stay here and pray morning comes?”

Judging by her silence, Rana didn’t seem sure.