IN WHICH KELLER GETS SLAPPED IN THE FACE.

The barge rode high above the black water, slick waves lapping at the wooden hull like wet tongues. The blackened steel of the tremendous cauldron, set in the centre of the vessel, was almost the exact same shade as the river below. The waves slopped and sloshed back against the river-bank, and things moved beneath the surface. Watchful, waiting things.

The paddles flapped and splatted against the water, slowly grinding the boat upriver against the polluted flow. HIS creations skulked and scuttled about the deck, some of them wrestling with each other, others turning jittery eyes to the forested banks on either side. One of the self-turning paddles had several spokes missing, and we had watched the boat slowly list back and forth as the creatures tried to correct for the damage. They screeched and whimpered at each other at the slow progress, at the shallows drawing nearer. How little they knew.

We were sat high up the slope of the bank, concealed within the thick brush that lined both sides of the black river. Zephyr had quietly killed every annoying bug in the area that could distract us (well, distract me, I was the only one without the self-control to get bit without flinching) and was calling up a ghostly grey box that had been partially built earlier. Alaxoria stared down at the boat between the circle of her thumb and forefinger, tracking the progress as it drifted closer to the shore. A look darted between Alaxoria and John, between John and Keller, then Keller nodded. He removed his cloak, passing it folded to John, then took out both daggers. Each dagger was removed from the dark leather sheath, then held lightly in his left hand, while the sheath was passed to John. Every wordless movement the two of them made was slow and deliberate, like actors in a play: I move here, then you move there, then we move apart. Keller waved his right hand to Zephyr, who slowly spun up the grey shimmering box to the full size, about as wide and tall as a wardrobe. The translucent top of the box might've jutted out from the brush, but there wasn't much anyone could do about that.

One. Two. Three.

Keller squished his eyes shut while blowing every scrap of air out of his lungs, buried his face in the crook of his right elbow, and leapt blindly into the grey box, disappearing without a sound.

Three. Two. One.

One.

One?

And he was back, landing blind and silently gasping for air in great shuddering heaves, perched atop the edge of the steel cauldron that loomed in the centre of the boat. He opened his eyes wide, blinking away the frost that clung to his long lashes, and got his bearings. Even from here I could see his chest rising and falling as he fought to stay quiet. None of the creatures that skulked or capered were looking up. Now, the work could begin.

Keller went through them with care, consideration, and overwhelming force. The first three creatures were slumped, dying, before the first sounds of surprise reached us. The paddles of the boat made flat squelching sounds each time they struck the "water", the warriors that hurled themselves towards Keller made much the same sound when they hit the deck. An axe blade came down, angling towards Keller's head, but he brought his crossed daggers up to catch it. The enchanted steel of his weapons cut through the lesser metal of the axe head with a tortured screech, sending curling shards flashing away to scatter across the deck like sparks from a silver fire.

That was what caused the rout. One surprise mortal amongst the swarm was surrounded and outnumbered. One surprise adventurer amongst the swarm wasn't surrounded by anything, except easy targets. One of the creatures threw itself at Keller's feet. A few jumped overboard, the river frothing and pulsating even before the creatures broke the surface. The rest died, quickly, and with a minimum of fuss.

Keller ransacked the rest of the boat, taking care to clear it out thoroughly and avoid any unnecessary surprises. The rest of us started to make our way towards the riverbank. Getting on board was going to be slightly awkward since we didn't know how far out of the water the not-fish could reach. I stood on the muddy shore, trying in vain to peer through the water, to see what lurked in the depths. The water was scattered with the remains of the diluted potion that HE had brewed and spread, so the whole watercourse lit up in my magic vision, glowing a sordid mix of paint and burning silver. If the warped fish that lived in there were watching us back, we would get no sign of them until they moved first.

Eventually, Keller was satisfied that the boat was secure. Without the sailors to tend its damaged propeller, it had listed away again, like an injured calf leaving a running herd. He waved to us before pulling hard on the tiller line, trying to get it back on course, or at least slow it down.

I didn't even see the water ripple. None of us did. The creature was just there, standing on the deck behind Keller. It was one of the warrior-creations that had leapt over board, but it now had a long, grey length of not-a-fish winding up its leg, razor fins cutting deep into its chest, jaws sunk into its flesh, tendrils in its nose and ears, eyes rolled back until they wept black tears of river water. A dozen more of the huge twisted fish silently slipped out of the water and up the side of the hull to join the first, twining around the bony frame. Barely a moment had passed, and a lumbering mess of flesh and bile perched behind Keller, silent, it drew back one stretching squirming arm to strike.

The river shone white. The sky roared.

Keller staggered forward, throwing himself clumsily against the tiller and bashing himself in the ribs. He turned, daggers drawn to face the attack, but there was nothing there. Just a burning hole in the side of the boat, the size of a wagon wheel, and a reeking cloud of incinerated steam where the monstrous melange of fish and flesh had stood.

The whole boat shuddered, listing immediately to the side. The paddles on the other side were lifted out of the water, flailing helplessly in the air. There was a slow cracking, crunching sound, as the boat hit the shallows and started to rip itself apart. Flippers and fins started clawing up the side of the boat and through the burning hole in the hull, all attempts of stealth abandoned. "Keller!" I yelled, but he was already moving. A sprint to the edge of the boat suddenly became an uphill run as the deck tilted even further, and then a kick off the edge into thin air as the steel cauldron hit the water. There was a glugging sound as river-water started pouring over the lip, confused aquatic monstrosities flipping and flopping as they were sucked in.

Keller had a good run-up and a solid kick off the edge of the boat, arms and legs kicking at the air as if he could keep running in the wind. John had already broken out of the cover and was running towards the shore as Keller reached the apex of his leap, and started to descend.

It was a good jump, but he wasn't going to land on the bank. He was going to hit the water.

The surface of the river seemed to suck back and push up as a geyser of gnashing mouths and greasy fins clawed at the air. Oily blood was shed as the not-fish bit down on each other in their haste to get a taste of mortal flesh. They knew what was coming. They could smell it.

Everything in front of me suddenly was suddenly washed out in a blue haze. The shadows it cast were fuzzy-edged and flickered back and forth. A thumb the size of my whole body flashed past me, knocking me sideways to roll into the undergrowth, but I pushed myself upright to at least see what was happening. Zephyr had twisted into one massive four-fingered hand, reaching out between Keller and the frothing not-fish, and slapped him towards the beach. He kicked up a cloud of muddy sand on impact, and the squirming critters fell back into the river, cheewing at each other in disappointment. The tremendous hand faded away, and so did Zephyr, slumping down into a puddle of pale blue goo, sizzling with so much spent magic.

Nobody said anything. For a while, the only sound was the glug of slow moving black water, as it claimed the wretched ruin of the boat we had set out to collect.

Keller picked himself up first, carefully brushing off the mud in a way that just made it much worse, stretched, and ambled over to where Zephyr was... pooling. "Hey there, Zephyr, pal," he said lightly. "Not that I'm not thankful for your saving my life, or anything..."

"Twice", came Zephyr's voice. It sounded like it came from the bottom of a deep well, far-off and indistinct.

"I'm only counting it as once," replied Keller, a careful bite to his light tone. "Considering that you, you know, blew up the boat I was standing on at the time, I think we can all agree that was a total of one rescue."

"Couldn't. Risk it." came the voice again, gently fuzzing. I was upright and standing next to Keller now. He looked uninjured, and standing straight, but I could tell that he was favouring his right leg. Must've landed badly, but not badly enough to show anything like weakness. Zephyr however, was looking far worse for wear. The normal blue glow was washed out, and the normal transparency was gloopy and inconsistent. As we watched, a thick red line sizzled into existence through Zephyr's blue 'flesh', joining another six in a tally. The cost of that first spell they had cast, the great searing immolation that came from nowhere, with no warning. Power like that was always paid for, sooner and later. Zephyr folded their flesh over the six, now seven red scars, and popped upwards, rearranging various limbs into something like a more normal configuration.

"There was an unknown risk from the creature's bites. The healing magic that could have been brought to bear may have been insufficient. There are many other boats. Easily replaceable."

Keller blinked at that, then a sly grin spread across his face. "Why, Zephyr, are you saying that I'm not easily replaceable?"

"That was not said," the mage spoke briskly, rising up to eyeline, even though no eyes had been re-manifested as yet. "It was simply the reasons for the actions taken, and resources expended."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The boat made a clunk as it rolled into the deepest part of a river, and a jet of bubbles slowly borbled to the surface . Alaxoria laughed, John clapped Keller on the back, and all was right in the world.

Sort of.

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"Those fish sure are a menace," said Keller as we all ambled back through the forest. "Reminds me of the time... actually, no, it's too nice a day for that. But still, really nasty customers."

"Not fish." I muttered, looking out at the forest. John turned to me,

"Knot fish?" confused.

"No, they're not- they aren't fish, it's like," but he nodded in agreement with his own confusion and my own dithering.

"Knot-fish. It has a good ring to it. And I suppose we discovered a new creation, and HE isn't around to give them a name. Knot-fish it is." He announced to the forest. There were more crows in the trees today, cawing on occasion, but the occasional finch darted here and there between the stoic green boughs.

I turned to Keller for help, who shrugged back at me with a smile. Ah, well. Keller had taken off his mud-streaked top to reveal tightly muscled, heavily scarred shoulders. Good shrugging shoulders, those. Every movement pulled at the long, ropey scars that circled around his torso, making them stand out stark white against tan skin. I'd seen some surgery scars, the mundane kind, that looked like neat rows of stitching. These were scars of magical healing, where the skin had been pinched together and sealed like a folded letter.

"Something the matter, Susan?" he asked.

"No just, well, thinking about about our bet," I lied, as casually as I could. Keller barked a laugh. "No bet. No bet! Not a chance. I'm sure there's another way we can get everyone moving. That river is... well if we need to get rid of a lot of bodies in a hurry, sure, but I can't think of much else I'd want to use it for."

I sighed. Snagging one of the river boats had been my idea, originally. The people who had reached our campsite had struggled along unmaintained and monster-patrolled forest roads, but who knew how many lives had been lost staggering about the wilderness, in the aftermath of the citadel? If we needed to move all the survivors, hiking through the forest would leave us slow and desperately vulnerable.

And we would absolutely need to move. Between Alaxoria and the rest of the foragers, we were pulling in boars and beasts and bushels of edible plants like there was no tomorrow, enough to feed the hundreds of hungry mouths. But tomorrow was coming, and with it, another day closer to Winter. The herds would be eaten, or move on, the wormgrass thickets would be uprooted faster than they could grow, the last fruits of the season would be picked and devoured, and then what? We could get Zephyr to conjure up an illusionary feast, let all the survivors gorge themselves on dust and nothing until they ate themselves alive from the inside...

John put one arm around my shoulder, jolting me out of my increasingly morbid fugue. What was with me? "Susan's right, you know," he said earnestly to Keller. "We'd need those boats to get everyone back to the citadel."

Alaxoria squidged her little finger around in her ear for a second, pulled it out to inspect the contents, flicked it away, and turned to John. "I sorry, John. I learn to speak Empire. But sometimes, I am still confuse. Confused. What did you say?"

"We need to get everyone back to the citadel. Right? That's what this is all about right, Susan?"

Alaxoria took two big paces ahead, stopped and turned to look John in the face. "Back. Back to the citadel? The citadel, with the blood, and the lightening, and the everyone we know being killed by HIM? That citadel."

John looked more puzzled than anything, "But the citadel is the most defensible position in leagues. The walls weren't breached. The wards can be rebuilt by Zephyr. We can retake HIS tower, figure out what was done the river, and reverse that as well. Can't you see that it's the best idea?"

But Alaxoria hadn't stopped talking, listing off atrocities on her fingers as she went in a thickening accent. "And the wizards, they are all explode, and the black thing, that is there, we do not have any knowing of what that does! And creatures! All swarming! The army is dead, HIS was not, they take the city probably. Probable? Probably. So yes John. Yes. Taking back the citadel and putting all people back in it is the best of decision."

"I actually," my throat stuck, I pressed on, "I actually meant that we could use the boats to get everyone upriver. Into the farmlands. For the crops."

"Burned." interjected Zephyr. "Citadel army did that. Nobody to harvest. Food for more creations."

"Oh."

We were silent for the rest of the walk back to the campsite.

----------------------------------------

Hedda dashed out to meet us as we returned, hiking up her sorely torn skirts to leap over fallen logs and tangled undergrowth. My heart sank as I saw her coming towards us, and I leapt forward to catch her before she tripped over something. "What has happened, what is it?" I checked her arms and face for cuts and scrapes, but she didn't seem injured, just out of breath. She didn't even spare a glance towards John, the mighty knight that had caught her attention just the other day, just pulled me onwards, back towards the camp. "Just, just come and see."

We might've made it back to camp sooner without her coming to meet us, as she was entirely breathless and having some trouble keeping her long, city-suitable dress out of the muddy path. She was pink-cheeked with effort. I could tell Keller was about to propose something that would likely scandalise poor Hedda half to death, so I made sure to help her back along the way. Trousers were all well and good for us delving sorts, but for a lady? Madness.

The cause of her excitement came into view not too much later. Nearly every person in the camp was crowding around, a throng that spoke with a thousand excited babbling voices. "Look!" said Hedda, pointing towards the centre. It took me a moment to realise who she was pointing at, because I had to look upwards to see them. Up, and up.

Standing in the centre of camp like a sprouting mountain, was a being hewn of white and grey stone. And hewn it was, even from here I could see the broad, chisel-like strokes, the points where shattering blows had broken the rock. It was at least twice Alaxoria's height, and I could hear her muttering beside me. It was broad as well, with wide-spaced legs that folded and jointed backwards in a way that made me wince a little. Looking at those legs, I realised the visitor was crouching down, once it stood all the way up, it would be just about three times Alaxoria's height. Keller laughed and clapped in delight, and the creature turned to face us. Three empty hollow circles made up the entirety of its asymmetrical face, one large, two small, a set of deep black eyeless eyes that swirled with intention. "Well I never, my solstice gifts all came at once and I didn't even know!" said Keller, having to shout a little over the clamour. "A war statue, come to rescue us. Say, do you remember the pass-phrases John? We could get it to clear these trees out."

Hedda shook her head. "It's not a war statue."

Keller turned to her, blinking. "What. But it's right there. What else is it going to be?"

She smiled with the sheer glee of breaking the news. "It's not a war statue. It's an original! Come meet him, come on!"

She tugged my hands towards the crowd, but I was stuck, frozen. Keller was looking between Hedda and the statue, his smile twitching as he tried to figure out if she was telling a silly joke.

Zephyr leaned their blue head over my shoulder, to speak clearly into my right ear. "You need to prepare a sleeping spell. On my mark, you will target the survivors nearest the Original, as wide an area as you can. Short duration is preferable. A greater cleaving will incapacitate it long enough for Alaxoria to move it away from the mortals. Casualties will be - regrettable."

Sleeping spell. Greater cleaving. A greater cleaving in this crowd would kill. All of them. It felt like I was thinking through molasses. Sleeping spell, to put them all on the ground quickly. Further away from the. The Original. A greater cleaving will kill. Some of them. Fewer.

Zephyr was still speaking. "Ice and fire is the ideal method for disabling an Original." Hedda looked between Zephyr and I, eyes widening in dismay. She shook her head quickly.

"No, no! I'm sorry. Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to- he's friendly! Really!"

John had shifted position to put himself squarely between the Original and Hedda, staring with deadly focus at the watchful pile of stone. She reached out to touch the gauntlet that was wrapped around the haft of his sword, and he twitched violently to face the sudden threat from behind. Hedda took a steel elbow to the ribs, and fell to the dirty ground with a tiny gasp. The look on John's face...

"My lady. My lady I am so, so, I apologise profusely," he reached out instinctively with his right hand to help her up, but accidentally pulled a finger-width of his sword out instead. Hedda scrabbled backwards through the broken sticks until she bumped into my legs. I carefully hauled her upright and did my best to brush her off. Zephyr was crackling beside my head as the greater cleaving spell wound up, but I brushed them away and focused on Hedda. "Friendly. You're sure of it."

"I'm, I'm sure." she stammered. "He s-said so. And, everyone knows they can't lie."

I turned to Zephyr, a question in my gaze.

"Well, it is frequently stated. But not certain." admitted the blue cloud of magical death.

Hedda seemed close to tears, nodding frantically at the five of us. She seemed to be shrinking into herself as I watched. Hedda and Susan could have friendly fireside chats together, of course. Hedda could certainly come and find Susan and her friends when something exciting happened. Hedda certainly could not stand up to questioning from a paladin and an archmage.

"Well then!" I put on a big smile, winding it back on the teeth as Hedda quailed even further, flinching away from me. "Let's go meet a new... friend."