I dove to the side as the eagle flashed past me once more, its talons slicing through the space where I’d been. I’d left my spear at the edge of the cliff, but I wasn’t worried about that; Sara could put it in my hands in a few seconds, easily. I watched as the bird wheeled about and raced for me once more, and this time, I got a better look at it.
The raptor was big, with a wingspan longer than my outstretched arms. I couldn’t make out the color of its feathers in the darkness, but twin bands of glowing blue pinions ran along the undersides of its wings, pulsing with power that I could see even without See Magic active. Its beak was longer than an eagle’s and wider, with less of a hook at the end, which made me think that it was used to catching smaller prey and swallowing it whole rather than ripping it apart. Of course, it could just rely on its second set of legs to do the tearing for it; four limbs jutted from its underside, the back two with large talons that were probably good for grasping while the front two sported smaller talons that would probably do a good job of ripping apart flesh and holding it for the thing to snatch with its beak.
The bird winged about, riding the whipping currents of air in the storm, and drove toward me again. I tensed to dodge, but before I could, its eyes flashed bright blue. A pair of long, dazzling arcs of electricity shot from those orbs and flashed into me, one hitting my shoulder and the other my stomach. Instantly, my muscles began to tense and spasm as power flowed through them, and I fell back as my legs crumpled beneath me. The bird dove for me, its beak gaping wide and its claws reaching for my helpless-seeming body.
Fortunately, I wasn’t a stranger to being tased. It didn’t happen a lot, but it had happened to me. The simple fact is, if you’re tased—and I mean, really hit with a taser with a nice, wide spread of the probes—there’s not much you can do about it. It’s not a matter of willpower or concentration; the voltage will overpower the signals from your brain to your muscles. You can’t train yourself to ignore that. What you can do, though, is learn how to relax and accept the convulsions so that when they stop, you can respond quickly.
The bird’s attack lasted only a fraction of a second and ended before it slammed into me. That didn’t give me much time to react, but it was enough to get my legs and one arm up to take the impact. The raptor landed heavily on my upthrust legs, scratching and clawing at them while its beak darted down toward my face. I swung my free arm up a little wildly, still fighting to regain full control of my muscles, and managed to knock it sideways so it only skimmed the side of my neck. A line of pain creased my neck as the beak slid along my skin, even as more pain flared in my legs as the thing’s talons slid along my thighs, cutting through my fur and skin alike.
I slammed my left arm over the bird’s neck, pinning its head in place, even as my right grabbed the hunting knife I had strapped to my waist. I lifted the blade and stabbed, plunging the crystal knife into the side of the bird three times in rapid succession. It screamed and thrashed, and another pulse of electricity shot through me, making my body shake and convulse. I kept the knife embedded in the bird’s side, though, even as my shuddering arm ripped the wound wider and caused blood to pour out all over me.
The pain of my wounds faded as the shrouded, hazy world of the spirits suddenly swirled around me. I felt myself rising swiftly into the air, passing through the gleaming drops of rain and hovering in midair. Having experienced this a few times, I oriented myself quickly and watched as a glowing, avian shape lifted out of the bird and shimmered into solidity before me.
The spirit was only vaguely birdlike in shape. Its outer regions swirled with patterns of cloudy turquoise and bright blue, while a violet core seemed to beat at its heart. The thing was huge, much larger than me, and it practically radiated power. It lifted its long, bloblike head back, and a scream ripped through the air, one that I felt more than heard as the creature cried out its challenge.
I didn’t bother to respond; I wasn’t here to frighten it into leaving or intimidate it. I hadn’t meant to call whatever this was, but I’d done it, and now, I meant to meld it. I rushed forward, hurling myself at it, trying to strike before it could attack me. As I charged, though, a blast of wind shot from it and slammed into my chest, lifting me up and hurling me backwards. I rolled in midair and landed on my feet, then flung myself sideways as a whip of glowing blue lanced at me, slashing the air where I’d been standing. I rolled to my feet just in time for what looked like a dart made of solid white mist to punch into my shoulder. Pain flared in that limb as another blue lash slashed across my chest, burning into my insubstantial flesh like a blade of dry ice had dragged through my skin.
The spirit suddenly rocketed toward me, its wings reaching out like a pair of claws. That was a tactical mistake; instead of trying to block it, I moved into the attack, darting past the outstretched pincers and crashing into the central body. My right hand darted out, and my stiffened fingers sank into the body like a claw. Its body felt stronger and yet less solid than the hunt spirit’s had, and it offered little resistance as my fingers dove into it and tore out a hunk of marshmallow-like, blue-green flesh. The thing screamed as the piece of it that I’d ripped free shifted into a mist and flowed across me, sinking into the wounds in my shoulder and chest and easing some of the pain there.
Another blast of blue energy crashed into me, knocking me backward and burning my body as the spirit darted backward. I kept my feet and charged, but it responded with a blast of air that knocked me sprawling. I rolled to my feet and twisted sideways to dodge a cloudlike dart streaking toward me, then leaped to the side to avoid another blast of blue energy. I tried to rush it, but it hit me with another wall of air. I set my feet, leaning into the gale, and instead of flying back, I slid a few feet away from the creature. That was better than falling since I easily dodged the whip of energy that snapped out at me, but when I tried to rush it once more, the creature’s wind attack pushed me back and held me at bay.
I circled around, trying to find a way to close with the spirit. I rushed sideways, then cut the opposite direction, hoping to fake it out. I ran in a zigzag pattern, moving back and forth unpredictably. I even leaped into the air, twisting and rolling to try and land atop it. Each time, it eventually caught me with a blast of wind; I could stand against that if it caught me at a distance, but in close, the force of the gale sent me flying backwards. Each time, it followed the attack with blades of solidified clouds and lashes of blue light, and while I dodged most of these, a few tore into my flesh, burning and searing me. Pain pulsed in my spiritual body, sapping my strength and ability to fight this thing even further. This was looking to be a battle of attrition, and I was losing it. I needed to get close to the creature, but I lacked the mass—metaphysically speaking—to withstand its wind gusts long enough to reach it.
“Try drawing on the hunt spirit, John!” Sara’s voice was distant and slightly muffled over the screaming winds surrounding me, but I still heard it clearly enough. I wasn’t sure what tapping the spirit would do, but I couldn’t see any harm in it. I reached down into myself, where the bundle of dormant power lay quiescent, and touched a strand of it, drawing it up inside me and flooding my body with it.
My pain lessened as power flooded me. I felt myself growing, becoming larger and denser. My hands tingled and stung, and I glanced at them to see that my fingers had grown into long claws. A similar sensation in my feet assured me that the same thing had happened to my toes. I dug those into the invisible “ground” beneath me and charged once more, growling as I raced toward the spirit.
Another blast of wind ripped out at me, crashing into my chest and trying to knock me back. I dug my clawed feet into the ground below me, though, and held myself against the wind. A cloudy dart streaked at me, but I batted it aside with a slash of a claw. The wind increased in intensity, pushing against my body, but I hardened my will and pressed forward, taking a slow, awkward step and slamming my foot back into the air beneath me to hold myself in place. A blue lash slashed across my face, stinging and burning, but I ignored it and drove myself forward another grudging step.
The wind increased into a howling gale that battered me, and unthinkingly, I slashed at it, battering it back. My clawed hands felt resistance as I cut through the storm, and the blast eased for an instant, allowing me to take two quick steps forward. The wind slammed into me again, followed by a pair of hardened white lances. I ignored the long darts, letting them pierce my flesh and pushing aside the increasing pain, and slashed at the wind once more. As it died for a moment, disrupted by my attack somehow, I drove forward again. Another blue lash burned along my stomach, but I did my best to ignore it and cut the air before me one last time. The wind slackened, and I rushed forward, finally reaching the spirit.
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The bird-thing screamed as I crashed into it, one claw sinking into its barely substantial flesh and gripping securely. It blasted a wall of air directly into my face, but I held myself in place and dug my other hand into it, tearing out a hunk of spirit that flowed into me, slightly easing the pain of my wounds. A dart slammed into my chest, but I ignored the searing pain and ripped at the thing, tearing away bits of it and letting them flow into me. It shrieked again and tried to escape by slamming its wings into me and clawing at my back, but I tightened my grip and refused to be dislodged. The thing battered me but couldn’t shake me loose as I thrust my free hand deeper into the spirit, pulling away its vital essence and taking it into myself.
Its rage and pain quickly shifted to fear, and I felt its emotions washing over me. It radiated defeat, submission, and surrender. It didn’t speak—perhaps it couldn’t—but I sensed its intent, knew that it wanted to bargain for its release. I ignored its silent pleas. I didn’t need to bargain. Its power would be mine, and melded with me, it couldn’t possibly harm me. The only safe enemy, after all, is a dead one.
The wind battering me faded and died as the creature shrank in my grasp. Its pleas grew fainter, and the wisps of cloud and whips of light it hurled at me dissipated harmlessly against my skin. The throbbing pain in my body faded as the essence of my attacker healed me, and my own strength seemed to grow as the thing in my grasp dwindled. I towered over it as it shrank to the size of a crow, then a sparrow, and finally a hummingbird flitting and buzzing helplessly in my grip. I tightened my fist, and it exploded into a puff of mist that swiftly sank into my skin, leaving me empty-handed.
The world shifted around me as I sank back into my body, sliding into it with a shiver. Pain flooded me as my wounded legs and neck began to scream, but I ignored it and focused on the creature panting atop me. It lay there, still and unmoving, the eye I could see glazed, and its chest heaving, my knife still jutting from its side. I yanked the blade free and rolled sideways, kicking it off me, then scrambled painfully back to my feet, bracing myself on weak, trembling legs and looking down at my victim.
The storm still raged overhead, but it seemed to have lost some of its fury. Another fork of lightning streaked out of it, briefly lighting the darkness and letting me see my foe. The bird lay on its side, its chest heaving but its body unmoving. Dark blood flowed from a ragged gash in its side, the wound my knife had torn in it in my spasms. Its feathers looked to be dark brown, but in the weird glow of the lightning, thy could have been anything from green to deep gold, and I wouldn’t have been able to tell. Its beak opened and closed spasmodically, and its wings twitched and shook in what seemed to be an uncontrolled fashion. I watched it, expecting it to stagger to its feet and try to escape, but it simply lay, twitching and shuddering, its eyes unfocused and staring at nothing.
“I don’t think it can flee, John,” Sara said quietly.
“Why not?”
“You melded its spirit. It doesn’t have one anymore, and without that, it can’t control its body or move.”
“You mean, it’s brain-dead?”
“Judging from your memories, no, not exactly. Its mind is still intact, but without a spirit, that mind doesn’t have a way to control its body. It’s trapped inside itself—at least, until it bleeds to death.”
I felt a little sick over that thought. I was fine killing people, and while I didn’t like killing animals, I would if I had to. Trapping the bird inside its body, though, just seemed cruel, especially since I was the one who’d called it in the first place. It hadn’t wanted to attack me. I’d lured it—accidentally, of course, but I’d done it all the same. Fortunately, there was an easy fix for that. I stepped over to the writhing creature and moved behind it. I grabbed its head to stabilize it, then bent down and slashed once with my knife. The crystal blade sliced through its throat easily enough, and I stepped back to let it bleed out quickly rather than suffering a slow, agonizing death.
“Why did I call that thing, Sara?” I asked silently as I watched its body thrash and struggle in its death throes. “It wasn’t exactly a lightning spirit, was it?”
“It—it was a myrskot,” Kadonsel said in a quiet voice. “A surikot taken over by an ancient of the storms. They fly the high currents, riding the storms and hunting wind, water, and lightning spirits.”
“It was a bird possessed by a storm spirit, John,” Sara translated. “You called a storm spirit instead of a lightning spirit by accident. Here, look.”
Spirit Melding: You have Melded multiple spirits!
Storm Spirit
Spirit Rank: 2.9
Spiritual Power: 62
Spirit Type: Land
Benefits: Celerity +4, Prowess +2, Storm’s Fury
Beast Spirit
Spirit Rank: 0.95
Spiritual Power: 10
Spirit Type: Beast
Benefits: Perception +3, Celerity +1, Telescopic Vision
Ability: Storm’s Fury
Active Ability
Benefit: You attack with the fury of the storm, doing an additional 25% damage for the first 30 seconds of any combat.
Ability: Telescopic Vision
Active Ability
Benefit: You can focus on a distant object to increase its magnification in your sight by 2x – 4x. This reduces your field of vision by the inverse of the square of the magnification: a 2x magnification quarters the field of vision, and a 4x magnification reduces your field of vision to 1/16th of normal.
You have 905 unassigned XP.
These XP may be assigned to the following Professions:
Undkrager, Undtharvis, Warrior
“What’s the difference between a storm spirit and a lightning spirit?” I asked silently.
“Both are menki, what the savages call spirits of the land,” Kadonsel answered in a dull, flat voice. “A lightning spirit, though, is simpler, a thing of lightning and nothing else. An ancient of the storm has mastered the powers of lightning, wind, and water, and is more complex—and far rarer.” She sighed. “And now, there’s one fewer in our world.”
“Not if Aeld’s right,” I argued. “Do you really think that it’s possible for me to truly kill something that’s immortal and undying, Kadonsel? Or did I just weaken it so much that it seems dead?”
“The result is the same,” she snapped, her voice suddenly angry.
“Is it? If the spirit isn’t gone, then eventually, it’ll be free of me, and when it is, it’ll ultimately regain all its lost power. It might even be able to reclaim what I took from it once I’m not holding it anymore—and maybe even more, if it gets some of my energy, too. If the storm spirit is immortal, the amount of time that it’s weak like this will probably be a blink of its eye as far as it’s concerned.”
“That…” She fell silent, and when she spoke, her voice was thoughtful. “That could be true. I can’t believe that anyone can destroy one of the ancients, and its energy has to go somewhere—it can’t just vanish when you die.”
“So, maybe I’m not really hurting it, I’m just using more of its power than it might have wanted to give me,” I suggested.
She sighed. “I don’t know if that’s right, but—I think I’ll choose to believe it is. It’ll make things a lot easier.”
“Glad to hear it. So, you were telling me about the differences between lightning and storm spirits?”
“All spirits, even within the same type, can have varying levels of power,” she explained. “We ojaini rank spirits by classes: a Class A spirit is the weakest of its kind, while Class B is only slightly stronger; a Class M or N spirit is what we consider to be a standard power level, and a Class U or V spirit is extremely powerful, the strongest I’ve ever heard of.
“A Class M lightning spirit is the embodiment of a bolt of lightning. The strongest of them I’ve ever heard of is Class P, which looked like a moving lightning storm without clouds or rain. Most, though, are weaker than Class M, ranging from A—a tiny spark—to J, which can give you a severe shock.
“Ancient storms, on the other hand, are never below Class H, and I’ve heard of them ranging all the way to Class S or T, terrible storms that ravage cities. Most are between K and P, very powerful and dangerous. They’re complex spirits that embody lots of different concepts, and that makes them older and stronger.”
“What was the one I melded?” I asked curiously.
“Without a testing rod, I can’t say for sure, but probably H or I,” she guessed. “It wasn’t very powerful; the spirit still up there guiding the storm is much stronger, maybe Class O or P. I think the myrskot was riding it to feed on some of its excess power.”
I glanced overhead and activated See Spirits once more. The storm was moving on, now that I wasn’t calling it anymore, but I could still see a glowing, turquoise shape in the very heart of it. The amorphous blob dwarfed the shelf on which we rested, and I shuddered to imagine what would have happened if it had joined in our spiritual combat before. I had a feeling the thing would have wiped the floor with both me and the bird. If that was Class P, I really didn’t want to see an S or T.
“That’s useful,” Sara said quietly. “Can you have Kadonsel estimate the class of a few more spirits nearby?”
“Do you think you can start showing me their classifications if you get a good feel for it?” I asked.
“Exactly. I think having a system of classifying a spirit’s strength would be useful, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.” I hesitated. “As far as calling more spirits…”
“I suggest you hold off on that until you talk to Aeld a bit. We don’t really know much about the different types of spirits, what they can do, and how powerful they get, after all. If you try to call an earth spirit, say, and accidentally wake up the spirit of the mountain behind us…”
I shuddered at the thought of the entire mountain crumbling down on us, or the shelf and everyone on it being sucked inside. “Good point. Okay, let’s classify some spirits and see if you can figure out their system. Any knowledge could be useful, after all.”
“Absolutely, John.”