Bel adroitly leaped away from the surge of water, prepared for whatever crocodile was coming for her. She expected it, but the size of the creature still sent a jolt of fear down her spine. Its yawning mouth was lined with thick, conical teeth that looked suited for holding onto prey much larger than her. Bel momentarily imagined herself being trapped between its jaws, her legs below her knees sticking out of its mouth as she flailed in desperation.
Thank Kjar that I already knew it was coming, she thought.
Bel’s leap took her near to the cliff face and a ready supply of stones. She reached out to grab one, intending to explode it in the monster’s gaping mouth, but the wave of water that accompanied it shoved her back, pinning her against the rocks. Bel’s improved lung capacity meant that she wasn’t gasping for air, but she was pinned against the rocks and blinded by the brackish water. Three heartbeats surged towards her from within the cliff, the second prong of Clark’s ambush.
He’s good at this, Bel begrudgingly admitted. Had he always intended to lure her away? Or had he made this ambush on the spot? Had he improvised an attack to take advantage of her immobility in tree form or douse her magma form while running away on one leg?
Bel’s heart hammered in her chest, but she didn’t panic. Clark wasn’t the only one who could plan ahead.
She thrust her arm into the crack of the cliff and released a powerful shockwave just before the rock worms arrived. Water had penetrated the porous rocks, filling the open cavities and providing the perfect medium for her attack. She blasted energy into the cliff – one, two, three times – pulping her ambushers until their hearts stopped and their essence and pulverized bodies filled the bloody water.
As the surge receded, Bel grabbed two fist-sized rocks and turned to face the enormous crocodile. Its squat legs dug into the muddy ground as it galloped towards her with single-minded purpose. Every nerve in Bel’s body quivered with natural fear as the heavy, scaly terror shook the ground with every bound. When it was only a few strides away it opened its mouth. Bel destabilized a stone and threw it inside before pouncing over its top jaw.
She landed upon its scaled back just in time to feel its body thrum beneath her from the exploding stone. The source of the blast was concentrate somewhere in its throat, shattering its spine and quickly killing the giant creature. Bel pivoted towards Clark, using her momentum to whip her arm forward and launch a second destabilized rock towards his hateful face.
He batted the rock aside with his staff, but the explosion that followed a moment later shattered his weapon into splinters, singing half his body and tossing him into the mud.
Bel grinned with delight as she pulled the thick store of essence from the crocodiles core, but an instant later she was mobbed by Clark’s flock of not-birds. Dozens of the feathered fiends pecked and clawed at her, forcing Bel to cover her eyes and curl into a ball to protect her sensitive organs. Her snakes hissed and lashed out at the avian attackers, but they were particularly exposed to the flying threats.
Of all the things Clark had at his disposal, the not-birds were the worst. Individually they didn’t amount to much, but as an unending swarm they were overwhelming. Even a gorgon as strong as Sangfroid hadn’t been able to stop them.
Bel tried to stay calm as she used her new senses to track the chaotic swirl of hearts around her. Her targets pinpointed, she sent energy through her latest, untested ability. It was the largest pattern in her core, more complex and confusing than even Lempo’s ability to destabilize materials. Luckily for her, she’d had a front row seat when Dutcha demonstrated it in the Dark Ravager’s temple. Ability ready, Bel threw her arms wide and liberated the essence of every lesser creature in her vicinity, ripping it straight from their feeble cores and delivering it directly to her own – just as Dutcha had done to any living Cultist she came across.
Bel had once observed a fisherman cruelly pulling his swallowed hook from the belly of an unfortunate fish. The feeling of ripping the essence directly from the cores of the not-birds reminded her of the gruesome sucking sound as the fish’s guts were pulled out through its throat. A moment later, every not-bird in the sky fell lifelessly to the ground.
Bel breathed a sigh of relief as she straightened. “Thanks Dutcha. That was satisfying.”
She stood tall upon the back of the defeated alligator and looked down at Clark. She grinned when she saw that his second leg hadn’t been fully repaired yet, delighting as he struggled to get back on his feet.
“No barrier?” she mocked. “Didn’t find any wasps on your way down?”
He looked at her with a frustratingly calm face. “Well, if what you say is true and this body is merely a puppet, then there was little need for protection.”
He tilted his head. “Or perhaps you are incorrect? Maybe you should try to finish me off?” He spread his arms wide, inviting her attack. “Maybe you should try that attack again? Or does it only work on the weak?”
Bel’s feet shifted over the pebble-textured skin of the dead crocodile. She tensed and then relaxed several times as she hesitated.
“Such a clear sign of your inferiority,” Clark mocked. “Victory is within grasp, and yet you cannot seize it. Or perhaps victory is beyond your meagre ability?”
He gestured towards the slain alligator. “Do you remember the stories of the Old World? An entire globe, conquered by men and women with no special powers, just the strength of their minds. My ancestors would not hesitate.”
He dusted the mud from his robes. “Lempo’s creation clearly lacks the resolve to be a real threat.”
“Oh, yeah?” Bel responded lamely. “Well, then why did you come here after me?” She slammed her fist into her armored chest in challenge.
“You are nothing more than a minor diversion,” Clark dissembled. “Crushing the rebellion and the lesser people of the Golden Plains is proceeding without interruption, so I became curious about Lempo’s plans in the Underworld.”
He gestured towards her. “I have found nothing of concern. It is no bother to me if we wait here for a few days. Would that be long enough for you to find your resolve?”
Bel’s jaw clenched so hard that it hurt. Her snakes hissed threateningly over her head as her anger boiled over. “Really?” she snapped. “I don’t believe you for a moment. Why did you bother meeting with Stion in the Free City if you weren’t worried?”
Clark sighed dramatically. “A gnat, though insignificant, is still a nuisance. I had already planned to obtain additional gorgon samples before leaving this world. Since you were nearby, it was no additional trouble to have you…”
He squeezed his thumb and forefinger together. “…squashed.”
He smiled. “And things have turned out well! I am quite pleased that you decided to provide ample samples for my research. Perhaps I should collect the rest of the living ones that you left behind?”
Bel frowned and Clark continued.
“After all, you suspect that this is not my real body. Maybe I am merely a distraction, keeping you here while I harvest the rest of your kind.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
He rubbed his thin thoughtfully. “The unkillable one should be quite a boon – imagine how many organs I could extract if she is capable of regeneration?”
Bel jumped down from the alligator, ready to tear Clark’s throat out with her sharp nails. Then she stopped, still a dozen strides away.
Clark’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Oh? Not coming for me after all?”
She narrowed her gaze. “I feel like you’re planning something – maybe you’re going to explode when I get close.”
He laughed. “Well, your imagination is active even if your spine is weak. But, if you have no intentions of finishing this fight, I will be on my way.”
Bel snarled as he turned in place. She bent down to pick up a nearby rock, intending to blow his body to bits, but as she stood she saw him charging straight for her.
Bel thought about jumping, but instantly dismissed the idea. That would be the obvious thing.
Instead she reached for her magma snake, mixing the small spirit’s body with her own as Clark closed the distance with his two fully functional legs. The blood in her arteries pumped hotter and hotter, turning into liquid fire as her skin hardened and cracked into a semi-liquid stone. Her form began to swell from her inner heat just as Clark’s body shed its outer layer of skin.
What was revealed was an angry mess inflamed muscle run through with wires and tubes. His chest was filled with several glass flasks that bubbled with a dangerously vibrant liquid. Bel only had a moment to observe his innards before the liquids were released into a large mixing chamber in his stomach.
She swept her arms over her face as the puppet exploded in a blinding flash of light and heat.
----------------------------------------
Orseis was feeling sick to her stomach. She was pretty sure – no, totally certain – that Bel would be okay. She was made by the gods, so she had to be.
So why do I feel so uneasy?
Orseis wrapped her tentacles around her body, hugging herself for comfort as she methodically stabbed her spear into a rock, slowly reducing it to a pile of pebbles. She glanced at the tentacle that had been cut short by Nebamon. At least Bel left me with my badass spear this time.
She wasn’t alone this time either. Orseis looked at the gorgons, squinting as she tried to figure out their strange rituals. The one with the clay egg had finished cutting up the dead and throwing pieces into her container, and now the living were putting their hands on the egg and chanting. The low drone of their song made Orseis’ head hurt. When they finally stopped, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Most of them, with the exception Fortuit, her remaining guard, and Crecerelle, pulled food and drinks from their packs and began some kind of sombre ceremony. Within half an hour it had turned in a loud sobbing party, with frequent wailing. There was an occasional bout of silence as a gorgon would tell some story. Some ended in laughter, but even those were inevitably followed by more crying. So weird, Orseis thought as she watched a gorgon practically soak her loaf of bread with the liquid poring from her face.
Unbidden, a little corner of her mind wondered if anyone would cry if she were killed. She ground her spear into the rock, needing something to relieve the stress from the unwelcome thought.
Cress saw her discomfort, but misinterpreted it when she walked over. The well-meaning gorgon offered her an awkward hug before asking, “Ori, is your body healthy?”
Orseis turned an embarrassing shade at the gorgons’ too-intimate gestures. “Oh, um, yeah, I’m good,” she said immediately. She straightened up and squeezed out of the hug, trying her best to look healthy despite the deep ache in her ribs. “Do you need help with anything?”
Cress shook her head. “I will keep watch with Escarole until Bel returns.” She gestured towards the other gorgons. “Although you did not know those who died, we are travelling companions. If you like, you can join the others.”
“Oh, I’m fine. I’m full of turtle anyway,” she lied.
Crecerelle gave her an incredulous look, but decided to not press the point. With a small nod, Cress went to speak with Fortuit.
Orseis closed her eyes and relaxed after that, but only a few minutes later someone nudged her in the foot.
“Ori,” the gorgon greeted her. Manipule smiled at her confidently, but from the nervous clench of her fingers around a small, icy glass Orseis guessed that the gorgon was a little bit nervous.
“Hi Manipule,” Orseis returned her greeting. “What’s up?”
They didn’t actually speak the same language, so Orseis wasn’t sure what the strange gorgon wanted. She usually clung to Bel, but Orseis didn’t think that was a transferable behavior. At least, she hoped that it wasn’t. She pulled her tentacles close to her body, just in case.
Manipule thrust her icy glass forward as she smiled brightly. Her red on yellow snakes flicked their tongues eagerly as she waved the glass in Orseis’ face. “Drink!”
Orseis’ nose wrinkled at the strong smell. “Isn’t this that stuff that Bel is telling me to not drink?”
Manipule nodded. “Bel! Drink!”
Orseis rolled her eyes. Her instinct was the shoo the gorgon away, but from watching Bel’s interactions with Manipule she knew that getting rid of her was nearly impossible. It’s amazing that someone without any suckers can be so sticky. She is like honey – too sweet and impossible to get off oneself.
“Okay, I’ll drink one, but if it’s horrible I’m going to climb a tree,” she threatened.
Orseis took the cup and upended it into her mouth. A harsh, caustic liquid spilled down her throat, making her grimace, gag, and cough.
Manipule clapped her on the back, jostling her painful ribs. “Drink!”
Orseis clamped her mouth closed and regretted the last minute of her life. After a few moments though, a strange numbness followed vile liquid.
Bel did say that they were using this drink for pain management, she remembered. Maybe it’s not so bad.
----------------------------------------
Bel dragged herself back to the gorgons’ camp. She was singed, dirty, and exhausted. She had resisted the instinct to lie down and sleep somewhere, but keeping vigilant for more predators had taxed her to the limit. Luckily for her, the gorgons had made themselves easy to find.
Unluckily for her, the reason for that was a large bonfire that was burning something with a horrible odor. As she approached the camp, she was overwhelmed by a smell like rot mixed with acid.
“What the hell is that?” she gagged up at Cress when she saw the other gorgon keeping lookout.
Cress fluttered down from her perch. “Stinky bush,” she answered. She looked at Bel’s expression and laughed. “Drives away many things,” she added with and apologetic expression.
Bel wrinkled her nose. “Great.”
Cress laughed and leaned forward to hug Bel.
For once, Bel’s snakes were too tired to bother entangling with the other gorgon’s snakes and Bel managed to end the hug gracefully.
Cress pulled back and looked Bel up and down, brushing away a few leaves that were sticking to her. “Is Clark dead?”
Bel could feel the heartbeat of the other gorgon speed up slightly as she asked the question. The threat of another attack clearly stressed her out, even if she asked the question calmly.
“It was just a puppet; a fake Clark. But he’s dead.” Bel glanced down at her arms. They were turning black and blue, and she imagined that her entire body would be just one enormous bruise in the morning. “He blew himself up and embedded me ten strides into a cliff. I had to burrow my way out. That’s why it took so long to return.”
Cress shrugged, but Bel could feel her heart relaxing into a smoother rhythm. “Waiting here is okay. We were honoring the dead.”
Bel looked over Cress’ shoulder at the ragged circle of gorgons. Despite the smell, they were gathered around the fire’s warmth and light. Most of them had worn themselves out and their hearts beat slowly in repose. Fortuit was sitting near the fire, crafting what looked like a second vessel from the clay in the soil, her heart beats steady and calm. She had handed off the original egg to Manipule, who was awkwardly cradling it.
When Manipule saw Bel her heartbeat fluttered, but when she tried to stand Escalope put a steadying hand on her shoulder. Reminded of the responsibility in her arms, the clingy gorgon settled for an awkward smile before she meekly sat back down. Escalope glanced Bel’s way, her expression hidden within the recesses of her helmet.
Bel frowned. The heart of the enigmatic gorgon was also somehow hidden from her, but Bel couldn’t feel surprised.
Orseis was with them too, her head nodding. Her heart was beating so slowly that Bel thought she was asleep, but once the cuttlegirl saw Bel and she jumped to her feet…
And then stumbled into a tree.
Bel watched with concern as Orseis made her way over with exaggerated concentration required for each step.
“Are you okay, Ori?” she asked with concern.
“I ish good,” Orseis answered.
Bel’s gaze narrowed as she inspected her younger companion. “Are you drunk?”
Orseis’ tentacles writhed in every direction as she tried – and failed – to stand up straight without teetering. “No? Me? No,” she denied.
“You’re drunk,” Bel repeated.
Orseis tried to jab her tentacles in Bel’s direction, but she wound up stumbling into Bel instead. Bel wrapped her arms around the small girl to stabilize her and was shocked when Orseis burst into tears.
“I want a real mother!” the cuttlegirl announced loudly, sounding in that moment like the child she was.
Bel patted her back consolingly as she looked at Cress, utterly bewildered.
“I want a real home too,” Orseis wailed.
Cress shrank back, clearly ashamed by the state of things. “I was busy keeping watch,” the proud gorgon said defensively. “It was Manipule who got her drunk.”
At the sound of her name, the other gorgon looked up from the clay egg in her arms. She locked eyes with Bel, glanced at Orseis, and then turned back to her egg, pretending that she wasn’t involved.
Orseis hiccuped loudly in Bel’s ear.