The manticore’s red-rimmed maw twisted into a bloody grin as its great scorpion tail whipped back and forth like a whip. It was utterly ecstatic, luxuriating in their presence even as Kosta and Clymere radiated dread. He readied himself. Even the slightest twitch of that tail might send more of those enormous spikes flying through the air. The manticore had already proven to possess unerring accuracy. His arm still ached behind his grey shield.
Great paws carried it forward step by step. Its bulk was utterly terrifying, even if the beast was half-starved and crippled by its missing front leg. The manticore’s body stretched eight feet from its human nose to the base of its tail, and every inch of its sinuous frame was poised to strike, pulled taut like a bowstring.
If Kosta was alone, he’d be dead already. Perhaps the same would go for Clymere. But together…
As the manticore angled their way, Kosta felt a surge of hope as he witnessed several arrows jutting out of the foul creature’s side. They didn’t seem to slow it down much, but at least it wasn’t in peak condition.
“It’s just a baby,” Clymere whispered. She was not afraid, but she was utterly serious. His sister was gone. The warrior woman, apple of Headsman Linus’ eye, had replaced her. “The runt of the litter… we can do this!”
That’s the baby? Kosta suddenly felt ill.
And then, worst of all, it opened that crimson mouth and spoke.
“Visitors at last. Come, children. I’ll make it quick. But I MUST EAT!” The manticore peeled its bloody lips back to reveal the rows upon rows of spiraling teeth. Were they moving inside its throat? Kosta barely had time to see its tail flick, but managed to reflexively project a slate barrier to absorb the duo of spines that were launched off that wicked tail.
He grunted with the effort as they embedded in the shield, sharp and fast enough to threaten to crack it. Kosta’s arm throbbed. They hadn’t pierced his protections, but it sure didn’t feel good either.
“Unfair! Unfair!” The manticore shrieked, eyes glazed with bloodlust and the encroaching frenzy of starvation. They were white and far too human. Every muscle in its leonine body grew taut. Kosta suspected that its missing limb would barely slow it down. “Come! Come! I need you! Let me lick the flesh from your bones.”
Oh hell no!
The butt of Clymere’s spear pounded into the phaetra. It would ordinarily pain him to see the magical stone splintering beneath the force, but ordinarily he didn’t have a slavering beast staring at him like a piece of meat. As it was, the shards of rosy phaetra only gave him ideas.
“We are sons and daughters of Dytifrourá!” Clymere’s voice rang strong and authoritatively as it bounced off the steep walls of the ravine. Smoke billowed from her nostrils. “Stand down, manticore. Surrender and I may offer you a warrant of vassalship. You may operate with the support of Dytifrourá so long as you work with us. Stand against us, and you will be slain!”
The manticore may be a sapient creature, but this one proved to be a savage beast at heart. It barely heard Clymere out before it wailed. Its rattling moan sent shivers down Kosta’s spine — every bit of its hunger rang out in that sound, and Clymere barely had a chance to raise her spear before it pounced in a sickly yellow blur.
“Mine! Mine!”
“Your mistake, dumbass!” Clymere spat a great stream of flame as she charged forward to meet its charge. The manticore hissed and paused its attack as the blazing burst washed over it. It was cognizant enough to turn its head and allowed its thorny mane to protect its more sensitive tissue, but came upon them quickly with its deadly tail whipping like a whirlwind the moment Clymere ended the gout. “C’mere!”
The manticore roared as the apeironic bronze of her speartip grew hot and deadly with magic. The metal ignited, blazing bright with golden flame, and the manticore barely dodged the blow before it could pierce its crystalline yellow eye.
The manticore’s bulk was truly upon them now, and Kosta’s instincts screamed at him to run far, far away from this damned valley. Its surviving front paw swept at Clymere and splayed open to reveal enormous curved claws, but she gracefully danced away from the blow.
Danger!
Its tail coiled, poised to strike, and Kosta Projected a barrier just ahead of them to absorb the deadly spike that it flung. Deadly venom dripped from its tip, and Kosta could see it gnawing at the stability of his barrier. The plate-sized paw slashed again with terrible speed and slashed his barrier to ribbons… only for Clymere to lunge forward with her spear and cut its gaunt cheek with the blade’s edge.
“Evil things!” The manticore spat. It leapt away on its lanky limbs. Even the short exchange of blows that they had traded left it trembling. Kosta hoped that it was from exhaustion and not rage. Their foe was clearly in poor condition, but the slightest misstep would end in their deaths. Those cunning eyes bore a hole through Kosta. “Protector! I’ll eat you one lick at a time! You’ll beg for death. You’ll last me a moon!”
Its bright red tongue emerged to lick its chops.
“No thank you!” Kosta cried and slowly took a few steps back, although Clymere ensured that she always stood between him and the monster. The black blood upon her spear had already boiled away beneath the veil of heat that poured forth from the metal.
Kosta eyed their surroundings for anything that may be of use. He needed to contribute more than just Projected shields or the monster’s superior strength and speed would wear them down. A single slash of its claws or a strike with its toxic quills would mark their inevitable defeat.
Frantic thoughts ran through his mind, dozens of half-plans coming together in seconds. They were born of desperation. Kosta was too slow to confront it up close. The beast would recognize that immediately, then focus its efforts upon him so that Clymere would lack any support. There were no good scaffolds to Overlay, either! He could enhance a stick since it was similar enough in shape to his leaf-bladed xiphos for his magic to enfold, but the effect would be significantly weaker.
That left range as his only option. Kosta spied a few boulders, a tall stone spire that rain or wind (or perhaps a monster’s claws) had torn away from the rest, but eventually his eyes settled upon the broken phaetra blooms that crunched beneath his feet.
“We’re going to eat your fucking heart after this is done!” Clymere spat at the monster. She raked her eyes over its skinny frame. “It’s just about all the meat left on you.”
To no surprise, the monster wasn’t a fan of that.
“No! No!” It howled, rearing up on quivering legs. The manticore’s human face twisted into a rictus of fury. “I will eat you! Get in my belly! My belly!”
And with that, the battle began again. The manticore flung another spike at Clymere, poised to pierce her eye, but Kosta managed to Project yet another stony barrier, although he dropped it before the manticore could leap upon them and slash it apart again. It cost more energy to maintain it against those blows than it did to reform the barrier.
“I can’t keep that up!” The strain of recreating the barrier again and again began to eat at Kosta. He still had plenty of stamina remaining, but he feared what would happen if he was pushed to the breaking point. The pressure of battle had reignited his strength, but Kosta knew that the long day’s hike had taken its toll. Some of Eneas’ magic-infused bread might have restored his vigor. Kosta cursed himself for only bringing trail rations. “Two, maybe three more.”
“Got it!” Clymere’s silver plume blazed brighter as she met the manticore’s charge with a poised spear. It ignited and spat a crackling stream of red flame, just enough to ward the monster off, and bought her a few moments.
Her skin flushed red. Smoke coiled from the ends of her hair. Heat bled off her in violent waves. She’d set herself ablaze!
It was the same technique that she’d used in their last duel, and the manticore only had a moment’s notice before Clymere roared more fire. She advanced, though the manticore had enough of her poking and prodding. The beast lunged forward, refusing to be held at bay, and batted her spear aside with its remaining paw.
Kosta scooped up a handful of phaetra while it was distracted. He felt for a thicker one, a bloom the size of a plum, and felt a victorious surge as the core blazed to life at the touch of his power. Its warmth comforted him like a campfire against the darkness. He eyed the battle carefully, waiting for his moment.
Clymere’s strength was great as smoke billowed off her in every direction. It stung the monster’s maddened eyes and sensitive nose, offering a slight edge as the beast recoiled, but as Clymere spat flame and stabbed and met the monster blow for blow with her new speed and power, the monster’s tail came whipping around to hook into her neck.
Its hook was long and curved, the barb the length of his forearm, and Kosta only barely managed to Project another barrier to block it… only the manticore yanked it back, prepared for the trick, and flung the spike at Kosta instead.
Damn it! Kosta yelped and flung himself to the ground as the spike flew overhead. He heard a dull thunk in the distance as it hammered into some unlucky tree like a nail.
Apparently the manticore had grown irritated with his constant interference.
“Coward! Coward!” The slavering monster slapped Clymere aside with its paw to dart past her (and screeched like a stuck pig as Clymere’s speartip plunged into its exposed hindleg) but it cared nothing for the pain as it slammed into Kosta and lunged down with its open, red-rimmed mouth to do good on its promise to scrape the flesh from his bones.
He squirmed, thrashing madly, and wretched as its rancid breath washed over him. The manticore’s maw opened wider than he thought possible, wider than any human could hope to, and its jaw unhinged to reveal a thousand hooked, razor sharp teeth within that evil red mouth.
Aretans above, Kosta realized with horror, his initial assessment had been right. The teeth did move in there, undulating and spiraling and squirming for his flesh.
The manticore’s tongue was long and pinpricked by the spiraling rows of fangs that descended deep into its throat, but Kosta gagged as he realized the tongue itself was layered over and over again in the same tiny fangs. They jutted every direction and pierced the tissue of its mouth with every movement.
He threw all his strength into fighting back, but the manticore was too strong. It was like a boulder pressing down on him!
It licked its chops again. The tiny fangs of its tongue shredded the human lips and peeled the soft skin away, although the light wounds regenerated before his eyes. No wonder its lips were always red! Droplets of steaming red-black blood dripped upon his chiton. Somehow beneath all this horror, all this fear, that was what infuriated him. Could monster blood even be cleaned out?
All these thoughts ran through him in less than a second.
“Coward!” It bellowed again like a trumpet. Kosta fought down the urge to vomit as its stench washed over him. The rancid breath was reminiscent of some unholy mixture of long-rotted meat, feces, and the pungent musk of a badger. Its foul odor was as much a weapon as its fangs or tail, and paralyzed him for a moment as the manticore howled again, then plunged down to tear his face off.
Kosta heard Clymere screaming his name, heard the thunk of a spear clanging off the manticore’s thick and thorny mane, and then nothing as the manticore’s teeth and rasping tongue tore the flesh from his face.
Or would have.
“Aegis!”
Kosta’s hand clenched the little talisman of Iron Wall Teris in one of his pockets. Grey energy leapt up his arm like lightning, then exploded forth into a solid barrier as Kosta’s magic fueled the talisman’s own power.
The manticore’s nose squashed flat against the wall. Its maddened eyes widened briefly, confused at its sudden failure, and then twisted again with fury. “Unfair! Unfair!” It screeched again, but ignored the great gouts of flame that billowed over it and scorched its tawny fur black. Kosta had utterly enraged the creature, so it had eyes only for him.
It reared and lashed at him with its fanged tongue since its paw was still occupied. Those devilish claws and the hammer blow of its fall would have shattered his ordinary shield, but Teris held firm. Then the wicked tail flicked to embed a spike, and struck again to physically shatter it.
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Teris warmed in Kosta’s hand and he fought the blind panic that threatened to drown him. Focus! Calm!
“Fear is good. It means you’re still alive. That you’re pushing yourself. But it’ll ruin you if you’re not careful,” Clymere whispered to him in a memory. He held that and focused everything he had into the marble statuette in his sweaty palm.
All he could do to feed more and more power to his protector. His breaths came fast and wild as the manticore’s hellish gaze blazed a hole in him. Its singular purpose now was to kill him, Clymere be damned.
He wished that he’d never stepped foot in this valley!
Again and again the manticore struck. It howled and shrieked and cursed him with every putrid breath, speaking of such terrible fates that he may well have nightmares of this day. Its rancid stench and thick, congealed droplets of the beast’s red-tinged saliva dribbled upon his shield as yet another spike was thrust into it. The beast’s tail was unrelenting!
“Die! Die!”
It reared up, yowling like a cat as Clymere finally landed a true blow that pierced its thick hide and plunged into its side, but the manticore fell upon Kosta one last time with its full weight. She stabbed again and again, rocking the beast as she tore into the tawny fur near the leftover arrows stuck in its thick hide, but the manticore did not relent as it savaged him.
She finally plunged her spear deeply into the manticore’s hind leg with a furious roar, crippling it further, but it paid her no heed. It was lost in bloodlust. His shield couldn’t last forever!
Teris grew hot. It burned!
His hand clutched at it like a lifeline even as it scalded him, searing layers of his skin.
And at last, Teris broke as the true Teris never had.
Kosta’s blood ran cold as his talisman shattered, though the barrier blunted the blow just enough that instead of curved claws coming down to split his chest open, the paw itself landed with enough force to drive the wind from his lungs.
“Mine!”
The beast’s unhinged jaw came down once more, wide enough to scoop him up and swallow him whole. Its eyes were utterly delighted as they fixated upon his vulnerable flesh. Rotten saliva spilled all over his face, coating him in a thin layer of bloody slime.
Kosta gagged, vision swimming as the stench assaulted him, but desperation drove him. Live! Live! His wild fingers grasped a grape-sized phaetra bloom and fed a tiny spark of his power into it as he desperately tossed the rosy piece down the manticore’s gaping throat.
Release your power!
“Monster!” It recoiled as the phaetra filled its mouth, shown brightly, and detonated in a great flash. The manticore stumbled back, black-red blood streaming from its mouth in rivulets. Razor sharp teeth sprayed in every direction and clinked upon the summer-hued phaetra, but new fangs began to force their way from the beast’s bloody red gums.
Clymere wrenched her spear free of the manticore with a bloody squelching sound. It was white-hot and sizzled as she tore it out with a great burst of strength, bright as the dawn. Kosta clawed himself away from the temporarily disabled manticore. He ignored the slight pain of crunching the phaetra beneath his hands and knees. His hand was burned and it screamed every time the summer stone jabbed it, but that was a trade he would take.
All that mattered was safety! By the Demiurge, he couldn’t imagine a worse fate than to be devoured by that evil maw and its undulating rows of teeth.
“Go!” Clymere spat at him as she unleashed a stream of smoke into the frenzied manticore’s eyes. The beast snarled and slashed at her with its great claws, although it stumbled, still rattled by the detonation. It had mostly recovered from Kosta’s explosive phaetra trick, although the cauterized wounds left behind by Clymere healed at a far slower rate. There was a reason that Headsman Linus valued her so highly on monster hunts—her abilities were perfect for countering their regeneration. “I’ll hold it down.”
“You won’t!” The manticore’s wicked tail flickered at Clymere. She met it with her spear haft and held her ground, smoke curling off the ends of her hair as her eyes, nose, and mouth blazed with an inner flame. It tested her, but she held the line. The plume of her helmet rose high, flickering like a dancing tongue of fire, and its silver light shone like the dawn.
Kosta clawed his way to his feet and stumbled away from the melee as the blinded manticore rushed forward to savage his sister. He refused to look as he ran—all that mattered to him was a large spire of stone on the slope above.
His mind cleared as the manticore grew distant and its fetid stench faded away. Kosta almost wept in relief as fresh, clean mountain air filled his nostrils. The rotten musk struck some primal part of him with fear and horror, and with that gone he could actually think again!
Still, Kosta could only grit his teeth and curse as he escaped immediate danger. His sister grunted and roared behind him, the crackling of her flames stood out in stark contrast to the monster’s cruel taunts and desperate clamor.
Kosta turned to see the battle once again as he clambered up the beginnings of the hillside. It progressed rapidly, both combatants striking and moving so swiftly that his eyes could barely track them.
Clymere was a mighty warrior, but the manticore pushed her to her farthest limits. No doubt she’d set her magic to the torch to sustain the superhuman reflexes and strength that she exhibited against this evil creature. Worry gnawed at Kosta, but he had to have faith in her!
When the monster struck, she parried.
When she could not parry, she fell back.
When she could not fall back, she gave as good as she got.
Kosta exhaled in relief when he saw a faint barrier materialize just over her throat before the manticore’s claws would have slashed her open, although his heart panged when he heard the sound of cracking stone above the din of combat.
Her Teris, outdated but still useful, had broken beneath the force of the attack.
He couldn’t help but whisper a grateful prayer to the Demiurge that the manticore had come to them starving and injured: if it was in its prime, they both would have been savaged by now. As it was, even its one remaining paw posed plenty of danger. A swift blow had managed to shred the outer layers of Clymere’s enchanted armor, although she’d peeled away just in time to avoid it carving into her flesh.
Its tail was a constant menace. It struck incessantly, always ready to pry into any opening, and threatened to flick and sever Clymere’s head the moment she let her guard down. Thankfully her armor and helmet protected her from glancing blows. Kosta owed the smiths a drink after this.
Clymere landed mighty blows as well: in addition to the grievous wounds that she’d dealt its side and hindleg, she’d scalded it again and again with rushes of flame that devoured its fur and skin, although it was too powerful to succumb to those brief blasts. She couldn’t drive her spear deeply into its muscle with the manticore’s attention entirely upon her, but Clymere poked and cut at it whenever she could. A dozen light wounds graced its front and one deep cut adorned its dark throat, a relic of an almost-kill that it had just managed to yank away from.
But no matter her valor, Kosta realized that Clymere was coming undone. Every passing second dimmed her inferno a little more, starved by her waning magic. More smoke than light curled off her skin now.
As wounded and weak as the manticore was, it still pressed forward like a rabid dog, snapping and spitting and slashing. This wasn’t just defense for it… this was a matter of starvation. Life and death.
Aretans above, this was just a baby! What other monsters lurked beyond Fort Phylax?
There wasn’t much time now. His limbs groaned in relief as he finally finished his climb up to that stone spire that he’d set off to. It was huge, but manageable. He could do this.
Kosta’s breath came hard and fast as he pulled his favored chisel from his pocket and set it against the rock. Grey magic poured forth in a steady tide as he finally found something in this messy battle that he could take comfort in.
Kosta had not mastered his shields.
Kosta could not master the manticore.
Kosta had mastered stone.
And so he set to proving it. His power seeped into the cracks, expanded where it could, and sawed. The stone spire shuddered beneath his touch. It was a massive thing, perfect for carving some enormous monument or statue, but Kosta thought that waste of potential was a fine price to pay for victory.
Clymere’s life would be monument enough.
“Argh!”
Her scream tore Kosta from his focused trance. Nothing in the world would prevent him from carefully cutting the stone to ensure that it would fall just right upon the monster. Still, he opened his eyes and felt a dagger of fear pierce his pounding heart.
“Clymere!”
The manticore had struck Clymere with its plate-sized paw. It hadn’t broken past her armor, but she laid defenseless against the phaetra blooms just as Kosta had—she wasn’t practiced with their manipulation, and the same trick wouldn’t work twice on a creature with the manticore’s bestial cunning. Clymere’s power would resonate with the phaetra if she had a moment to focus, but time wasn’t in their favor!
An evil grin spread across the manticore’s cruel face. It lunged, pressed its remaining front paw over Clymere’s spear arm to prevent the weapon from piercing it yet again, and easily predicted the white-hot burst of flame that she spat into its eyes. The manticore leaned back to let the heat pass by harmlessly, then flicked its tail one last time.
It took all he had, but Kosta thwarted its victory once more. His vision swam and he fell to one knee as the power of his spirit flooded his arm, then leapt out to project his magic; a thin wavering barrier, more like fog than solid stone, manifested just a few inches from Clymere’s face.
The bladed tail plunged through it, but the barrier was angled just so. The manticore hissed as the barb glanced off and stabbed six inches deep into the earth right by Clymere’s face. Venom pulsed into the soil and rose up in a cloud of simmering steam.
She was alive! Kosta whispered prayers as he worked.
The manticore paid for its failure. While Clymere couldn’t drive her spear tip deep into its flesh, she could still channel power through her weapon. Her spear shone brilliantly, then exploded with light. Even Kosta squeezed his eyes shut beneath the agonizing radiance that briefly illuminated the entire ravine. It was as if a lightning bolt had just struck down from the heavens!
Their monstrous foe howled, but refused to release Clymere. It knew that Clymere was exactly where it wanted her and shoved its full weight against her abdomen—Clymere’s armor prevented the deadly claws from ripping her belly apart, but the sheer force left her howling and writhing. Kosta’s gut twisted as her screams reached his ears.
Kosta grit his teeth and cut faster. Faster! His power worked steadily, not quickly, and he cursed himself for never listening to Clymere’s chiding in the past.
The stone groaned, but the manticore had almost torn its tail free of the earth. It was smart enough to realize that it wouldn’t be able to easily bite through her armor, so it just kept her trapped as the manticore readied itself for the death blow.
He wouldn’t be fast enough, Kosta realized dimly. Bile rose in his throat. He plunged the full force of his power into the stone. Every crack filled and spread. The stonecutting blade that he’d projected grew sharper, wider, and his panic stirred his normally placid magic to new heights.
And it still wasn’t enough!
Clymere’s howls and the monster’s cruel, wheezing laughter taunted him.
Kosta had never known hate before, but he thought he did now. It was ugly, searing, and he wished nothing more than to watch this spire fall and crush this disgusting monster like a bug. Violence was a necessity, a means to an end, but he’d take pleasure in ridding the world of this abomination.
The world would be left a little more beautiful with its absence.
Just a few more seconds!
And then, salvation.
A new sound crackled over the mortal struggle below. Kosta barely heard it at first as he lost himself in his working, but it was odd enough to break through his haze. It was the noise of crackling flame (nothing new to Kosta) but subtly different. Almost like…
Bird song.
Sparky chirped as viciously as a little sparrow reanimated by flame and ash could manage. Its tiny talons couldn’t do much, but the burning heat and the smoke trailing from its wings did a good job of distracting the manticore’s aggression from Clymere. Sparky fluttered about madly. Without its tail or a second paw to lash out with, all the manticore could do was snap uselessly at the nimble bird as it pecked at the monster’s eyes.
Clymere roared, blazed bright as a wreath of flames billowed out around her like a cloak, and flung the beast’s paw off of her. She moved gingerly thanks to the injuries she’d sustained, but was vicious and unrelenting as she lashed out at the monster with flame, light, and black smoke.
Crack.
Kosta collapsed as he finished his task. He smiled dumbly as the stone spire, fifteen feet tall and half as wide, collapsed like a felled tree into the ravine. Whatever magic he commanded had nearly run dry, and if this didn’t work they’d both be dead unless Clymere and Sparky could pull off a miracle.
But he could improve their odds.
What little magic remained in his veins groaned beneath the strain of his demands. Kosta wrenched himself dry as a rag, squeezed out the last of his power, and projected one last barrier at an angle to the pillar as it fell.
Even his full power wouldn’t have made much of an impact, but it was just enough. The slate barrier evaporated beneath the great weight of the stone, but the resistance was able to send it glancing a few inches away from Clymere and towards the manticore’s hindlegs.
Fortunately for them, it worked.
It actually worked! Kosta nearly wept with relief.
The manticore squeaked, then fell as its wounded back half was crushed beneath an enormous pile of stone with a disgusting squelch. It was what Kosta imagined an enormous grape would sound like, and the visual effect wasn’t much better. Most of the creature’s innards were simply squashed, but it somehow remained conscious. Only its head, neck, and free claw were spared.
Cruel eyes turned glassy and empty.
“Unfair, unfair…” the manticore murmured, but had no more to say as Clymere limped over, reared her spear back, and plunged the weapon through the monster’s face. Bone, fur, and cartilage crunched beneath the metal. A hundred rivulets of the manticore’s blood ran down the remnants of its head, drenching it red-black.
She was too exhausted to retrieve her weapon. Instead, Clymere stumbled back from her kill and collapsed in a heap once she’d confirmed the kill. The manticore may have been tough. It might be able to regenerate from most wounds.
Nothing was going to regenerate from that.
They met each other’s eyes. Despite the circumstances, despite their injuries, despite their inevitable future nightmares, all they could do was laugh like a pair of lunatics.
Against the odds, against the grim face of death itself, they’d persevered. They lived to fight another day.
They’d slain the manticore.
They’d won.