Chapter Two Hundred and Fifty-Five - Snakes Are a Pain

The old quarry didn’t look like much—I guessed that unworked quarries were really just hills with a bunch of rock in them. The hilly landscape was covered in trees except for the large area where the new quarry was located. There was enough stone in the ground that the only trees around were small, scraggly things that didn’t look like they’d resist a strong wind.

The crevice that the others had spoken of was in the centre of the nearest hills, a crack in the ground that started a few hundred metres from the hillside. I got to poke at it as we moved into the area. It was a crack, maybe a handspan wide near the start.

The closer it got to the hill the larger the crack became, until someone could easily fit a car in the gigantic slice. I guessed that the monster had snuggled into that crack. Maybe there was a cavern or something beneath it?

“Do you know how the crack formed?” I asked the person nearest me.

The plan, or what I understood of it, called for everyone to split apart into large groups. The Inquisition were splitting up and sneaking around the hill to take on the rear flanks. The larger force of the army from Granite Springs were setting up in the open, where the ground was even and they had plenty of room to move.

General Holey and his molefolk forces were moving to the forward flank, with his earth mages setting up near the bottom edge of the crevice. Bastion had asked that I stay near the general and his men, because that was one of the safer areas where I could still be pretty useful.

My job was to jump in and grab anyone who got hurt. The medical tents were still by the Inquisition camp, a three minute walk away. Far enough not to be caught up in all of the trouble but close enough the injured could be brought over in a hurry.

There had to be well over a hundred soldiers on the field. It felt like a lot of people for one monster. There was an electric tingle to the air, nervous energy and magic waiting on the tips of fingers to be cast.

“The crack isn’t natural,” the general answered at long last.

His voice made me jump. Maybe I was nervous too.

“There was a fight between two dragons in this valley once, some hundred years ago, or perhaps a little more now. It reshaped the land, burnt down some of the ancient forests, and left behind a land scarred and cracked. That slice was likely caused by one of them landing.”

“Whoa,” I said. Then again, I could imagine someone like Rhawrexdee making quite a mess if he were to fight, and he was a younger dragon. His mom was much bigger.

“The sylphs have good reason to mistrust dragons and their ilk,” the general said. “We were always a little more fortunate, owing to our homes beneath the earth.”

“I see,” I said.

The orders were given, people were in their places, and all that was missing was the monster we were going to be fighting.

A hush fell over the battlefield as Bastion stepped up. He stood in his full armour, sword unsheathed and held loosely by his side. My best-sylph-friend was a dozen paces ahead of the main body of the army, alone and ready.

“We’re beginning,” the general said. The mole people around us shifted one last time, spears rising and boots crunching on the loose gravel underfoot.

At the top of the hill, a soldier from the Inquisition, in lighter armour than the rest, took to the air with a flap of his wings. He had a stick of something with a long fuse in it that he lit before tossing it down the crack. Not an explosive. Instead a thick smoke poured out of the crack, and I heard a few people gag as it rolled over them.

I sniffed at the air, then recoiled as the smoke was carried over by the wind. It stank, like an old fart, but stronger.

That had to be to wake up and irritate the amphiptere.

There was a rumble. Rock tumbling over rock, and the sylph flying above darted away and ran past a line of soldiers that made room for him to pass.

The rumble slowed, then stopped.

I saw everyone tensing, preparing themselves for a fight.

Then, from the crack, slithered a monster.

The amphiptere was a long snake-like creature, as big around as my head, and nearly three metres long. It shifted across the rocky ground by the wider part of the crevice, then reared up, strange scales sliding back from its eyes so it could see everyone looking at it.

It hissed, and a pair of large wings spread out behind it.

The monster opened its mouth wide, and a ball of greenish goop shot out and towards the nearest person.

Bastion stepped neatly and easily to the side, avoiding the spittle.

The monster hissed again and shot forward.

I gasped at the speed of it. It was fast. A rapid, black-ish brown blur.

Bastion jerked to the side, whirling in a split-second spin as the snake passed through his afterimage.

By the time my mind caught up, he was standing three paces away, sword swinging around in an easy circle to clean off the blood and gunk caught on it.

The monster flopped behind him in three large chunks.

“Was... was that it?” I asked.

That had been impressive, but there were a lot of people here just for that.

“No, that was a juvenile,” the general said. “On guard!” he shouted.

I tensed, especially when I felt the ground shifting underfoot and saw all the soldiers tighten their grips on their spears. The hillside shifted, in a weird, unsettling way because hillsides aren't supposed to move. I looked around, trying to spot where, exactly, the shift was coming from.

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Then it exploded.

Rocks shot into the air, big boulders rolling down the hill out of a growing cloud of dust. Eeping, I ducked down and grabbed at the edges of my helmet as tiny pebbles came raining down from the sky. They clinked and plinked off of the armour of the people around me, most of whom stood still as they weathered the storm.

A roar filled the air.

You have heard the roar of a powerful beast. You are challenged to fight.

I glanced up, then gasped.

The amphiptere was massive, as wide around as a bus and ten times as long, though its tail did start to taper to a point eventually, with big fins on the very end. It hissed into the air, its breath stagnant and vile, like old rotting meat. Then its wings spread out behind it, each one the size of a small building, ribbed and leathery, like the wings of a huge bat, with visible veins running through them.

One of the wings was clearly injured, cracked and broken and bent at an odd angle. Still, when it flapped its wings, I saw a few of the soldiers closer to the front, those who hadn’t taken a solid stance, be thrown back onto their rears.

Bastion, at the head of it all, weathered the storm with nothing but a mean glare for the monster. “Mages!” he called, voice clear and ringing.

“Now,” the general next to me barked.

The mole people mages stepped up, and, with tight little gestures of their arms and a synchronized stomp, they shot off magic ahead of them that immediately dove into the ground.

Nothing happened, and the monster began to gather itself, muscles tightening, and it was then that the ground turned to something like mud. Stone boiled, and the amphiptere sank while large spikes of rock jabbed into it from both sides like massive teeth.

The sylph army all took a step forward at the same time, one hand punching out ahead of them, and soon the air was filled by a thick volley of tiny fireballs that pelted into the amphiptere.

When the dust settled it became clear that none of it had done much. The fire had only blemished its scales, and while one or two of the rocky spikes had broken into its skin, the wounds were small.

It shifted, body twisting, snake-like, and just like that, the stone entrapping it broke apart.

“Oh, this isn’t great,” I muttered.

Would we even be able to do anything against something that strong?

The monster reared its head back, just like the smaller one had, and I gasped. It was going to spit!

“Shields!” Commander Warmwood called. He was right there, at the back of his men with his own gear on, sword pointing to the monster in defiance.

The snake hissed and a glob of acid goop sprayed out of it as if from a firefighter’s hose.

Bastion leapt straight up, spun, then kicked against the glob of acid to gain more height. He came hurtling down with a flipping kick,his heel crashing against the monster’s snout with a crack that I felt from all the way where I was.

The amphiptere’s head snapped down, and its acid spit fizzled out as it was wasted on the rocky ground.

I winced as I saw stones smoking and melting. Then I glanced over to the army, expecting to see something horrible.

Instead, the soldiers were stepping back in an orderly fashion, shields raised ahead of them with the rims glowing. There was still some spit pouring off the front of them and onto the ground, but it didn’t look like any of them were really injured.

Neat equipment, that.

“We need to hit it harder,” General Holey said. “Mages, again. Pin its midsection down. We’re moving in.”

“Moving in?” I asked. I didn’t want to be closer to that thing than I had to be, and I was never one to shy away from adventure.

Bastion was somersaulting away from the monster as it tried to snap him out of the air, but he was never where it lunged, and whenever it came too close, he’d lash out with his sword, lightning-quick, leaving a small slice across its scales.

That wouldn’t be enough, of course. Bastion would tire eventually. The monster too... but it was big.

The mages cast another spell together, and I saw the Inquisition soldiers doing something similar before large balls of fire rammed into the monster’s back and sent it reeling forward.

All around, soldiers started to move in, shields up and spears raised, points glinting in the sunlight as they kept an even pace not to break their formations.

The monster wasn’t going down so easily. It thrashed and spun around, tearing itself out of whatever grasp the mole people mages had on it. It spat at the top of the hill, where the Inquisition soldiers dove and flew out of the way.

The soldiers around it came close enough that some were able to strike, spears glowing before they stabbed into the monster’s sides. Magic spears? Maybe they were enchanted. It was enough that they’d leave large cuts in the monster’s side.

“Stay here, captain,” General Holey said. He shifted, then tore his sword out of its sheath. “It’s best that you avoid getting hurt.” And with that, he walked off towards the monster to accompany his soldiers.

I fretted on the sidelines, more than far enough that I wouldn’t get hurt.

I didn’t like it, not one whit.

Still, I didn’t know what a lone bun could do to help.

My fists tightened. That was no excuse not to find something I could do to help!

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