The last calcine grew larger; it flexed its claws and tilted its head toward Beeka while it swayed, almost losing its footing. It tilted, not quite bending down, and then began to clatter, chitter, and snap its teeth.
Beeka moved further to the right, closer to Opial. She nodded at him and made space as her robes swished around her feet.
Han moved out of Opial's way and pointed his small foil at it. "It looks to be the last one."
Parcival nodded. The dead end was quieter now, none of the hissing and growling came from anywhere else. I pay they do not overtake us, my friends are sweet and good undeserving of these horrors. As is everyone n our beautiful city.
It was tempting to simply go over and lop off its head, but he held back. All of them had a slick aura about them, but this one felt wrong. On trying to step over, his hands shook lightly at first, then so hard he nearly dropped the sword. He backed off, and the shaking stopped. A dark energy flooded from it and danced across his skin. He backed away further. It must be a spell.
He glanced at Merryn; she was unchanged, no more like the curse tried to complete the stoning but kept regressing back ever so little. Back and forth it went on that patch of the left side of her face. It seems the god might have been trying to keep her alive all this time. Why it didn't kill her and go on some mad rampage, destroying everything, was a question for another day. A flash of mental images came and went, her soft touch, the times he caught her slyly dropping coins into the hungry children's hands, how she quietly listened to every word when told a story, that wistful look when describing home and her people, her light laugh. Those rare times when the walls came down and who she really was shone through. Flame of Elaema, don't take her from me, not now.
"I feel like an ass saying this, but maybe it'd be better to let her turn to stone?" The god would be trapped, and that Maxwell character wouldn't have any reason to bother our city," Beeka said, casting his eyes downward.
"While your cold logic is true, could you actually live with doing that instead of doing your duty to help cure her?" He from time to time checked on the it; it had turned awfully quiet. No good would come of this.
Han looked at Beeka, then at Merryn. "She's saved me before, I owe her."
Part of the broken street crumbled further underfoot, and he jumped away quickly. Stone and melted coin! Got too close to the crack. He hedged away and went closer to Beeka. He scanned the area. Whilst small in scope, the fiends could easily hide, hopefully this might be the last. We should be so blessed.
Beeka made as if to speak his mouth opened then closed, he then drooped his head. "No," he whispered.
Going back over to her, he stayed on her left side and caught her attention. He wiped a tear that'd tracked down from the corner, that look in her eye was haunted and empty. "I'm here. We're here. We'll fix this." Hopefully the others will too, leaving her like this—one thing at a time. Take care of it first, then the god. If the thick fear was a spell, then the only thing to do was push past it.
A pitiful garbled and strangled sound came through her nose, and another line of tears wobbled on her eye, followed by a rosy blush that crept over what was still left of her face. All but two of her fingers on her left hand were encased in stone, she curled them.
He looked away. She was always uncomfortable with crying; in fact, she tried so hard to hide most emotions that they seemed to unlock all at once at times, especially anger. Have to ask her, have to ask why the Elvin were so stoic and she wasn't. That'll go well, would make her plenty angry!
It still hadn't moved much, it just kept getting bigger. A high pitched whine came through its teeth, and it huffed and breathed faster, taking in larger mouthfuls. It took on the discolored look of a rotted corpse, with bulky misshapen muscles and a multitude of deeply set slashes across it. The tip of its long scummy tongue slipped from between its bone-white fangs.
The little light left at the dead end streamed down from above. Twisting and moving in it dust motes that floated around it, yet there wasn't any breeze. When they neared it, they condensed around its body.
"Kill it by fire?" Opial went closer to it and went into an odd stance. She crouched down with her hands up and fingers curled.
"Maybe. Hold off though." She could always be counted on in a pinch, but getting her to stop was another matter. He craned his neck, it was as tall as the rooftops. "One problem at a time."
"If I can't use fire, then maybe?" Her gaze skirted to the side then locked eyes with him. "You know."
The edges of his lips wilted. "That spell? The last time you used that, you nearly caused the building to come down on our heads! I still have a hole in my old armor that is still being repaired, the silken threads were fried." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It was almost a massacre, with several people injured. That's what caused your demotion, or did you forget?"
On looking away, her head dropped to her chest, then she looked back up and focused on it. "I'll get it right this time." A firm line set in her jaw; the usual mischievous glint in her eyes vanished.
"I see." Back in the day she pulled some dangerous stunts without thinking, but seems to have matured.
It sisss-hed and it held its head back, stretched its arms out and chuckled. The heaviness from it pressed into him, he shook harder, and slick sweat traced down his face, back, and chest.
"These wretched things will not stop us! Do it." It'll be fine that won't happen again. Hopefully.
"Wait, let's move Merryn first; she's in the way." Beeka and Han moved over next to her.
If the damn thing lets us. "Hastily then." He flexed the inner power that was always there it felt like a braided cord that when pulled on, gave a portion of O's blessed energy its power. It always worked better with a prayer following this and would—come out boosted. Huh? Nothing. It was cut off. Never had this happen before. "I'm cut."
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Opial blinked. "You, cut? You always have the god's energy." She chewed on her chapped bottom lip and spit away a dried flake. "This doesn't bode well."
Beeka held up a hand, Opial nodded.
"How about we move her first and then think of what to to do about it?" Beeka said.
Parcival nodded.
They picked her up and moved her back in between the houses behind them and pushed her against the outer wall, her fingers curled again.
Good, it was still there, it hadn't moved but had grown some.
Opial returned and brushed his shoulder. "Stay close, last time you were in the blast circle, stay within a couple feet of me and you'll be safe. Or, about where Merryn is; this spell has a range of about fifteen feet. Beeka all but stepped on her toes. "All our hopes on you!" She can do this, thinking anything else sets up for failure.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then began chanting. Her voice grew loud and clear above the howling storm:
"O' great Olenus god of this earth,
grant this simple spell; deliver on to me
thy blessed round stones of speed and fire!
Enemies die by a thousand deaths!
Magma Volley!"
Above, a great sheet of clouds towered it loomed high and dark, it twisted and turned as if some giant were inside ready to reach out and destroy the land below.
The wind rustled the leaves on the trees, a strong gust blew over sending, grasses, branches, and debris flying. His scabbard tap-taped against his leg.
She raised her arms over her head, her eyes bright and intense, and down came the lava and obsidian stones, their number too great to count. Fire breathed, snapped, and sparked around them, and when they moved streaks of smoke followed. On moving her arms to the left they spun and struck it, then she leaned her arms to the right, up and down. The ties of her robe slipped free, and the wind caught the edges sending the cloth up past her neck.
"Volley!" she boomed over the wind.
It didn't matter how many times he saw this it still made a part of him wish he could make an instant picture on a scroll to put on a wall.
She lowered her arms, her chest heaved as she came back over she tied and adjusted the wayward robe, a hint of her long legs shone beneath the thin underclothes. Further up, a provocative flash of skin from her large lovely—he wrenched his gaze away then rubbed his eyes hard.
She shot him a narrow look.
Why the mind chose the oddest times to focus on such things, was a puzzle. Fight, help Merryn. He jumped out of the path of a spinning lava rock, some slow others as fast as a wolf-ren.
Opial finished fixing her robe and tugged on the collar.
The stones gathered in a fury of wind and fire, faster and faster they spun; a whirling firestorm. At first just one shot out and struck it, then a handful, and soon all of the stones struck it it, on bouncing off they turned around and hit again. Soon the stones went further than before and bounced off the buildings. They became too fast to see, one zipped past his face and burned the skin on his cheek. The burn on his cheek stung. He stupidly touched it, and hissed as it spread the pain across his face.
Han dodged and flipped about avoiding the rocks, but he managed to get close enough to it and slice it's midsection before several rocks came back, nearly taking his head off. He deftly avoided the rocks and stood by Opial his chest heaving.
It blocked the lava rocks as they pummeled its body, setting a fire its arms, the top of its head smoldered. It's inhuman shreek pierced into his ears, he covered them; watching. "Die already!"
Opial swayed, bent over and sat on her butt her skin tine drooped several shades, she stat there for a good few seconds, rolled over sat by Merryn and collapsed, with her head leaned against the wall.
The stone spell kept going faster just red and gray streaks. The calcine's wounds leaked gloppy green blood as it deflated and sank into a lump on the street. Two slashes on each of its squashed limbs opened, and the creature pulled in breaths again, Its body re-knit and started to heal.
The dry mouth still made it impossible to swallow, it was tempting to rake his tongue with his fingers. Now would be a great time to run if it didn't mean leaving Merryn to her fate. "It's healing! What to do?"
Beeka pulled out several of the paper tasimins from between his fingers like before. "These are the last, if you can distract it maybe they'll end it."
He tossed each one at it, they sailed at it and landed on its chest stacked in a pile. It didn't become bloated and returned to its original shape, it stood and ripped off the tasimins tossing them away, they exploded. Chunks of the street and earth beneath flew off in every direction.
"Watch it!" He dove and fell to the ground on his stomach, it knocked the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe for a beat. Rocks and other hard things pelted him and bounced off his back.
Beeka crossed both arms over his face and turned his head, a few pieces of the street tiles whacked off his arm. He spun sideways but held his ground.
It launched itself at Beeka and snapped right into his face. He shouted a short prayer before hitting it with his staff, the staff burst into light, and it dropped down and hunched with its hands over its eyes.
Another stone came about half circe, headed for the back of his head.
"Get down!" Han loped over, jumped in the air and kicked away the rock, the fur on his foot caught fire, he dropped hard and slapped at the fire.
"Thanks," Beeka's voice came out harsh and low.
Han shrugged. "Nothing to thank about."
Parcival rolled on his side, stood and lopped off its head. The head few down the street and rolled away to get stuck between a couple of broken statues.
He sat right on the street, dirt and all and caught his breath. Han and Beeka sat down hard and were quiet.
Han slowly come over and touched his shoulder, he smiled. "Look." He pointed behind at Merryn.
The curse faded away bit by bit until it reached her neck, where it slowed, so much that it might have stopped. He jumped up, wobbled over, and stared. She's still moving. Merryn's chest rose and fell.
With heart attack inducing speed she covered his hands, then bowed her head. "Thank you for your troubles, and tell them too."
She's back! If my heart would just slow down. This woman! She's not boring, that's an absolute. Did the curse leave her, fully? Kneeling down, he gently held her chin turning it to face him, he turned her face from right to left. Her eyes weren't covered in the cloudy film. Her hands were warm, not cold. She sagged back and promptly passed out before answering.