Chapter 20

Vince had been healed twice by Bayla, and both times it had left him with a pleasant tingle as his flesh was restored. Now everywhere his skin touched his metal armor felt the same way, only cranked up to ten. Too much, too much! I’m going to burst if this keeps up! What is this armor doing to me? He had an overwhelming need to move, to do something to burn off all that energy.

Marazza was extremely cooperative, and Vince was forced away from his panic at the bizarre situation by the need to counter the manshark’s charge. A clenched fist hammered his helmeted head, sending him sprawling. The Aqua Armor rippled at the mighty blow before snapping back to its metallic appearance.

Vince was pleasantly surprised to find that he was not broken again. Once he came to a stop in the loose sand, he sprang to his feet. The shark gave him no time to recenter, charging in again and lashing out with haymaker.

This time, Vince was ready. His arms snapped up at the speed of thought, catching the shark’s fist in both of his own. Marazza’s muscles bulged as he struggled against Vince’s iron grip, and the blond man smiled savagely inside his helmet.

“Not so much fun when I fight back, is it?”

“Wrong.” Marazza’s leg swept Vince’s legs out from under him. “You were bad prey before. Too weak. Now this is a good hunt.”

Vince just rolled out of the way of Marazza’s follow-up attack, a stomp that might have punched a hole straight through his chest. He spared a glance to Nanora’s injured titan-bird, still writhing in pain where Marazza had left him with a shattered leg.

He knows how to fight. You don’t, really. No bragging, no quips. Vince sprang forward, using the momentum from his leap to catch Marazza with a vicious uppercut. The shark’s jaws slammed shut with a ‘clack’ that echoed beneath the wharf. When he opened his mouth again, a handful of triangular teeth fell to the beach beneath them.

There were plenty more where they came from, though. “Time to stop fighting like a Landman.” Marazza’s meaty hands grabbed Vince’s shoulders, and gleaming white lances filled his vision an instant before everything went dark.

Vince almost thought that he had died until he realized he still felt that uncomfortable, bursting energy running through him. The Aqua Armor had read his fear and sealed his helmet shut. The hideous screech of the jagged teeth scraping along the pseudo-metal almost made Vince wish he was dead.

With his arms pinned by the shark, he knew exactly where Marazza was, though. His foot swept in a wide ark, catching the shark behind his knee. Even muffled by his helmet, the ‘pop’ of the shark’s joint dislocating turned Vince’s stomach. The pressure left his head and shoulders, and he took the opportunity hop back, putting distance between them.

“What are you doing?” shouted Bayla. Vince’s helmet had reopened, and the orca was shaking her fist at him from where she lay. “Drive the battle home and slay him! You cannot show mercy to a shark!”

The humbled Marazza grabbed his knee and forced it back into place. Vince was astounded at the shark’s stony face. Does he just not feel pain, or does he not have the muscles to emote?

“That is rich from an orca,” spat Marazza, forgetting his battle with Vince for a moment. His beady eyes narrowed as he took in his real quarry. “You rip us open for our livers and leave the rest to rot!”

Bayla scoffed at the idea. “It is the law of the sea. It is not our fault you are weak and delicious.”

Marazza’s face betrayed no emotion, though there was a hitch in his voice as he turned towards the beached orca. “You forget your situation, Princess. You cannot even run from me.”

“You’re fighting me!” Vince rushed forward, putting himself between the warring sea creatures.

“Yes.” Marazza attempted to backhand Vince, but he ducked beneath the blow. “But my master wants her, not you. You will need to die soon.”

Vince forgot his rule about no quips in the excitement of it all. “You first!” He swung a fist at the shark, hoping to break away more of his savage teeth.

Marazza saw it coming this time, and his now gap-toothed jaws closed down around Vince’s forearm. The armor rippled and deformed under one of the strongest bites in the animal kingdom, but it held. However, Vince was good and stuck; his struggles only dug the shark’s teeth deeper into the armor. I don’t feel anything yet, but if he busts through, I’ll be like that sabertooth!

“Get him, Ureq!” Nanora had recovered from the crash landing, and despite his desperate situation, Vince had the time to goggle as the sight: a sand-covered witch throwing a bizarre lizard the size of an iguana right at Marazza’s head.

Red blood ran down the beast’s hide as Marazza’s sandpaper skin scraped against Ureq’s scales, but the summoned reptile was undeterred. Its wicked foreclaws gave as good as they got; a shark was much easier to open up than a tree trunk, after all. His sharpened beak found its way into Marazza’s right eye, which finally forced the shark to release Vince’s hand.

An instant later, a wave of Nanora’s magical staff had sent Ureq back where he came. “You did good, boy! Thank you!”

Bayla’s imperious voice cut through everything. “Vincemeyer, slay him! I command it!”

“Trying to,” grunted Vince.

The injuries and the blinding sparks left in Ureq’s wake sent the shark staggering back. Vince took advantage of Marazza’s distraction by tackling him to the ground. His muscles burned, screaming with something approaching pain, demanding action, demanding he do something to bleed off all of his barely-contained energy!

Straddling the shark’s chest, he rained down blows on his fallen foe. One punch had not impressed the shark much, but a dozen in as many seconds sent more teeth and blood flying. He vaguely remembered that sharks could regrow their teeth, given time. Not that I’m giving this monster any of that!

A spasm ran through Marazza’s body, and Vince was hurled straight up into the bottom of the wharf. The wood splintered at the impact, and Vince’s teeth ground together as he slammed back down to Earth.

The land-shark’s dead eyes looked the same, but Vince thought there was a fire in them that had not been there before. The edges of his mouth twisted back, even as his lifeblood leaked from a dozen wounds across his head and shoulders.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“Are you enjoying this?” demanded Vince, staggering back to his feet.

“Yes. I said so before.” Marazza’s voice was completely matter-of-fact. “It is a good hunt.”

Punches and kicks aren’t doing it… His hand traced down to his side, the Aqua Armor flowing to reveal with concealed hilt of his hunting knife. Combine this with the enhanced strength Bayla gave me, though, and I bet he won’t laugh this off!

However, just as Vince’s fingers wrapped around the Bowie’s hilt, his arm stopped obeying his orders. That burning sensation tripled, and the pain drove him to his knees. The shark had not screamed, but to his shame, he could not be as stoic. He could not see the armor warp and melt, flowing off of him as it returned to the seawater from which it came.

“Vince!” Bayla flopped forward on her belly. She was not sure what she could do in her half-transformed state, but she had to try!

“Princess Wakerider, you have to stop!” Nanora gripped her staff and ran between the beached orca and the shark. It was not the most relaxing spot to be, but she had no choice. “Get into the water!”

Before either could respond, Vince’s armor finally failed, splashing all around him. He could move again, though more sluggishly. Vince felt like the time he had run a half marathon down in Seattle, only every muscle in his body was spent, not just his legs. Ma was so pissed that I did it without asking on stock day.

It was not the time to think of his mother, though he nearly called out for her as the shark’s eyes passed over his now defenseless form.

“I take it back; you are all bad prey. The princess cannot move, the Landman cannot fight without magic, and the witch’s beasts have no blood.” There was no bitterness in the voice; he was simply stating fact. “All you have are tricks.”

“Can’t disagree,” muttered Vince to himself. He drew the knife anyway. “Well, if I’m such sucky prey, why’re you keeping your distance?”

“Because Landmen taste awful, and you aren’t good sport. Not even a threat.” He strode over to the flopping Bayla.

“S-stand back, villain!” Nanora held her position between Marazza and Bayla. The way she stammered and clutched at her staff did not inspire much confidence. “I am Nanora ag Sintala, the Ivory Witch! I will not break the sacred duty entrusted in me by the Grand Coven to protect—”

“You talk too much.” Marazza’s fist flew out. To Vince’s surprise, Nanora ducked beneath the punch.

Good; even if she’s a weird brat, I don’t want to see her get splattered.

Nanora cried out; it seemed the near miss was not part of her plan. When the Ivory Witch fell over the prone Bayla, Vince realized the orca had grabbed her by the skirt and pulled her to the ground.

“We finally agree on something, shark.” Bayla managed to raise herself up on her ‘knees’, glaring up at Marazza from waist height without so much as blinking. “I am the one you are after; leave Vincemeyer and this irksome witch out of it.”

Marazza nodded, his stubby neck making the gesture seem subtler. His arms moved faster than Vince could track, and in an instant, he had hauled Bayla up to eye level, his massive hands pinning her arms to her sides.

“Bayla!” Vince forced his tired legs to carry him forward. I don’t care if it’s pointless, I’ve gotta do something! As he charged in, a doubt entered his mind: why was Bayla smiling?

The answer came quickly. Her lower half swung about, far longer than her human legs had been. A fluke designed to propel a whale through the sea smashed into Marazza’s side like a sledgehammer.

Marazza kept his grip on the transformed whale, squeezing down on her with all his strength. “Cheater, you surrendered!”

Bayla cried out, but managed to flash the shark a cocky grin. “I said to leave them out of it, not that I yielded.”

Marazza’s death grip slackened for a moment as he considered Bayla’s words. “You are correct. Do you yield?”

His answer was another hammer-blow to the same spot. Marazza’s grip failed as he staggered back, and Bayla collapsed in a heap on the sand.

Vince had stopped his charge when he thought that Bayla had the situation under control. Which she does. Kind of. He fixed that mistake, aiming his Bowie knife at the shark’s back. Nanora had also hopped back to her feet, leveling her staff at the shark.

Their efforts came too late. Marazza did not even notice Vince’s attack, instead making a mad dash for the surf. He knocked Nanora on her back again, running like the hounds of hell were on his tail. He dove in, his powerful arms driving him forward with a force to make an Olympic swimmer jealous, and he was gone before Vince arrived where he had stood.

“Oh thank God,” said Vince, though he kept a tight grip on his knife. He did not trust such good fortune.

“Do not blaspheme,” chided Nanora. “It is a nasty habit.”

“Blaspheme?” asked Vince. “I’m serious; the big guy upstairs deserves some thanks for that! I thought we were chum!”

“Vincemeyer?” Bayla rubbed her head after her unexpected fall. “Do my eyes deceive me? Did we win?”

“He ran off.” Vince wanted nothing more than to check on her, but he could not let his guard down yet. “So, Nanora. Do you still think I’m a supervillain or some shit like that?”

The redhead returned his angry glare, but then her expression softened. “I don’t care how greedy a poacher is; he would not risk himself like you did for Bayla. I think you truly are her ally.”

“I said as much, you buffoon!” spat Bayla, along with a mouthful of sand. “If I had my legs, I would kick you from here to the Kelp Forest!”

Now that they were not being menaced by a land-shark, Vince could finally contemplate the bizarre sight before him. “What happened to her?”

“I hoped you knew,” said Nanora. She pulled a smaller crystal from a pouch on her belt, tracing a red pattern in the air before her. “Something is dreadfully wrong with her morphic field, that much is for sure.”

“I simply need to focus,” said Bayla, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can, now that that brute is nothing threatening us.”

“I’m not sure it’ll be that easy; every time you transform, it’s been by mistake.”

“I am a prodigy, remember?” She cracked a dark eye open, shooting Vince a glare that made him shudder. “I suppose I need to become a full Landmaiden again; I do not care to swim with that shark just yet.”

Vince helped her back into a crouching position on her ‘knees’. “Don’t blame you.”

Nanora frowned. “I am not sure that is completely wise. You nearly ripped your base morphic field in half when you failed last time. You cannot simply brute force transmogrification magic.”

“Watch me! I am the next Matriarch of my pod, and we are mistresses of magic! I made a Landman my champion without issue, and I have transformed twice without trying. Imagine if I had put my mind to it!” Beads of sweat trailed down her head. “I did not think I would be a Landmaiden again. Perhaps I will make myself taller this time?”

Vince had thought she was a perfect height before, for as often as he ended up hauling her around while she was unconscious. He kept that opinion to himself, though. Not like it’s my body, if it makes her happy.

Bayla’s legs did begin to glow, starting from where her human and orca halves met and slowly travelling down. Vince took her hand, and she clamped down on his poor, suffering fingers like a vice.

Nanora glanced from her crystal and back to Bayla’s shifting form. “It is more stable now.”

Vince smiled down at her. “You hear that? Keep at it, Bayla. Or is it Wakerider?”

“Later. I shall explain it later.” Bayla’s voice was strained, so Vince kept quiet. She did not need more distractions.

All three were so focused on Bayla’s transformation that they missed the approaching sound of police sirens, but Marazza’s sensitive ears had heard them a half-mile away. The heavy footfalls going down the wooden stairs from the main wharf were unmistakable, though. Vince whirled about, putting himself between Bayla and the oncoming threat.

“Hey you! Hands up!” Sergeant Phil Murphy’s mustached face was red from unaccustomed exertion; he rarely ran, and he never ran across uneven sand in his regulation shoes. Those shoes were already full of grit, and somebody was going to pay for the double indignities of sandy feet and an abandoned breakfast with the missus. He had already drawn his gun, though that was on account of the bizarre reports that had summoned him.

Murphy, Vince and Nanora’s voices were in near unison as they all asked the same question:

“You again?”