Chapter Fifty

Krissintha Arlonet Dar Ghelain was not at all sure if she could do this. She was gripping her sword, crouching behind the rock, waiting for Sini’s signal to jump out of cover and rush the enemy. Her body was as tense as drawn bowstrings, and she felt like she’d just snap in half if she tried to move. It was the same, unsettling sensation in the pit of her stomach as before — being stuck between two bad options: running and hiding, or fighting a fight she didn’t think she was ready for.

She had trained and trained and trained, but it was a real fight coming her way now. Kill or be killed, plain and simple. She realized that this was what Master Fenar must have meant — what was it he’d said? Determination, discipline and a will to fight and to kill. Master Fenar was right: it didn’t matter how much she had learned or trained, how good or bad she was with a sword — anyone could pick up a rock on this beach and bash her head in if she wasn’t ready for a real fight. If she failed to find the will, if she failed to find the determination. Was this why Fenar had sent her here? Not only to aid Fifth Rangers, but to force her into the state of mind a true warrior needed? Perhaps. Still, Krissintha felt this was too soon.

She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm herself, loosening her muscles. She felt a drop of cold sweat rolling down her face under her misery-mask.

Kevin, you’ll protect me, right? She asked, knowing the answer even before it came.

At all cost. The spirit said without hesitation.

Well, that’s touching, but get ready! I can hear the children. They’re crying. Sini said, her thought-voice almost a growl.

Krissintha could hear nothing except the rumbling of the sea, but Sini’s anger, and the thought of barbarians enslaving children, it was … it gave her the unsubtle push she needed to ignore her instincts, screaming at her to stay hidden and stay out of trouble.

We’ll be there in less than a minute. Arde said over Kevin’s ability.

They’re here. The elf’s twenty paces from us. Kevin said.

Sini whistled a signal.

Krissintha could just about hear the two archers stepping out of their cover, then the pangs of bowstrings and the whooshing of arrows. But the shriek of an elf, and the guttural roars of orks were louder and closer than she would have liked. It was time: if she didn’t move now, she knew she wouldn’t move at all.

‘Oh, hell!’ Krissintha hissed, and she jumped out from behind the rock.

Sini and the others were already out, the two archers discarding their bows and drawing their swords. She welcomed the tingle as she drew on Kevin’s power, and she ran, propelled by the weird and mystical blue flashes.

The barbarian was on his knees, two arrows sticking out of him, one in his chest, one in his shoulder. The five orks behind him lined up and readied their weapons as soon as they realised they were under assault. The one with the round shield stepped forward, waiting for Sini, who was leading the charge.

The elves ran like the wind, as if the beach wasn’t at all a rough and rugged affair littered with rocks of all sizes. Krissintha ran, too, right after the archer named Narak, who held his sword now. They rushed past the downed elf — whether he was dead or not, it didn’t matter, he was out of the fight.

Another ten paces to the enemy — she’d be there in seconds. The orks weren’t shy: their rumbling war-cries shook the rocks. With their arms in the air and weapons swinging, they were ready to welcome the rangers. Krissintha veered right, following Narak, aiming for the marauder that was beckoning to her with its battle-axe. Her designated target.

This one’s ours! Give it everything you’ve got! Krissintha heard Kevin’s thoughts in her head, almost screaming at her, and she felt an extra serving of tingles as a blueish shimmer flashed for a moment, right in front of her — Kevin’s so called Mana-Armour. She could do this. She wasn’t alone, she could do this.

The elves and orks met.

Krissintha’s vision narrowed down to the single barbarian that was hers, ignoring everything else. She trusted the rangers, and more than that, she trusted Kevin to keep an eye out for everything else around her, and she hoped she could keep the giant, green creature occupied long enough. And without dying. She had to.

The ork bellowed, spittle spraying from its mouth, as Krissintha arrived, ready to strike at it. It brought its axe down, aiming for her head. It would have split her in half, she had no doubt, but she sidestepped, and the blade of the weapon panged off a rock on the ground instead of cleaving through her from top to bottom. She spun around, swinging her sword at the creature. Mana flickered on her blade as it cut into the ork’s arm. The beast howled, like some kind of bear. Krissintha pulled her weapon away, leaving a wound on its arm, thick and disgusting black blood flowing out of it.

I thought that would cut his arm off! Just how thick are his bones? Kevin complained, but Krissintha didn’t have the time to comment or retort. The ork juggled the axe into his other arm, and punched at her with the injured one. She jumped back, just quick enough to avoid a hit that would have crushed her bones, maybe even with Mana-Armour.

The green beast gargled some unintelligible words at her, insults probably. Then it rushed her. Krissintha backed away as nimbly as her training and her familiar’s power could carry her, but the ork was close. She was backing away, but it was in the wrong direction, towards the cliff wall — she’d get stuck with nowhere to go, she realised.

Offence, Krissy, go on the offence! Kevin thought-yelled at her.

Almost there, ten seconds. Arde’s thoughts came almost at the same time.

Help was coming. So was the ork’s axe. She dodged it, the weapon scattering sparks and leaving a gouge in a man-sized boulder behind her. Damn. Kevin was right: she had to go on the offence.

The ork lifted its axe again. No more time to ponder what to do, she willed Mana into her legs, and she jumped. She landed on top of the boulder behind her, her footing stable.

That cost a lot. Kevin complained, and she didn’t care one bit. She was up on the rock, her knees at the level of the ork’s head. The ork seemed to be baffled by this display of acrobatics normally impossible for a human, but only for a single moment.

‘This will cost some more!’ she yelled out loud, willing more of Kevin’s power to gather on her sword.

The ork lunged into a sweeping strike, aiming at her legs. It bellowed something Krissintha thought was some sort of victory cry: the ork was larger, its arms were longer, and the axe wasn’t a short thing either. She, on the other hand, was smaller, she was higher up, and reaching the monster’s head, even with her sword, was impossible.

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Krissintha used every drop of willpower she had, picturing the spirit’s Mana taking shape, like a blade, flying and cutting into the ork’s head. Just like she had seen Jevan do it a lifetime ago. Just like Kevin had told her to do it.

She was too high up, the sword was too short, but she swung it in a downward arc as if chopping wood. A flash; a momentary, blue shimmer, and the ork choked on its own victory cry as a blade made of Kevin’s power shot out from her sword and hit the enemy. The ork’s head split open with a nasty, wet crunch, from the top all the way to the base of its neck. The axe fell from its hand and clattered away. Black blood and bits of brain and bone splashed on the boulder, on her boots, even on her mask. Invisible blades made of a spirit’s power were … unexpectedly impactful. The creature slumped to the ground, twitched a couple of times, then it didn’t move.

Krissintha stared down at it. Her handiwork. She had just killed something, perhaps someone. In a real, life or death fight. And she hadn’t done it as a human, or a ranger trainee; she had done it as a spiritualist. She looked down at herself. She wasn’t tired or exhausted — Kevin’s power was a handy thing — but her arms and her legs were shaking.

You’ve done it. You’re first kill. Kevin commented, his thoughts cheerful.

And you were complaining about costing you some power? Krissintha sneered, trying to calm herself.

It was just a … notification, you know, I wasn’t complaining. But that jump cost eight whole MP, and the Mana-blade? Fifteen. It was quite the spectacle though. Thank god I’m a spirit and didn’t get any blood on me.

She lifted her head to look around, trying to see the rest of the battle. Or the aftermath of it.

‘Huh,’ Krissy said, then narrowed her eyes as she took in the scene on the beach. ‘What the hell?’

Yeah, bit of a hostage situation over there, isn’t it? Kevin said.

The fight was over. Four dead orks and one dead barbarian elf lay on the ground. Arde and Havan’s team were already here, and it seemed the nine rangers made short work of the barbarians. Except a single ork who was still standing, one of the children dangling from its enormous hand. The kid whimpered as the green fingers tightened around his tiny neck like a noose.

‘Bastard!’ Krissintha hissed.

It could crush the kid in the blink of an eye. Kevin noted, sounding a lot calmer than the situation would have justified, and before she could protest the spirit’s nonchalant attitude, he said: Let’s get over there, shall we?

***

Krissintha glared at the ork: its speech a collection of grunts and gurgles, the kid’s painful squeaks drowned out by the beast’s coarse voice. Kevin was right: it could crush the poor boy’s neck just by flexing the muscles of its fingers. But the kid was still alive, so surely, two ranger teams could do something about this, couldn’t they?

Krissintha looked around her — seven elves glared at the ork, surrounding it, swords and spears pointing at it. She looked behind her, where Arde and another ranger, a woman, were cradling the other child, a girl, away from the others, trying to calm her down. Krissintha had been focusing on her own opponent during the fight and hadn’t really seen how it had gone for the others. This ork must have dropped the girl to be able to defend itself, but kept the boy in its clutches when it saw things weren’t going particularly well for the marauders.

‘It’s trying to bargain, isn’t it? The piece of shit fucking bastard,’ one of the rangers snarled angrily. He was probably Havan, the other team leader.

Sini looked like she was about to explode and destroy everything in at least a mile around her.

‘So, what do we do?’ Havan asked, looking at the woman.

‘If we attack, all at once …’ another ranger tried to suggest.

‘The boy will die before the first blade reaches the bastard,’ Havan said, cutting the man short.

‘What then?’ the ranger asked, glancing back at the little girl in Arde’s care, then back at the boy in the ork’s hand.

The ork barked something that might have been words, shaking the poor kid like a merchant would shake a bag of money. It was definitely trying to bargain for its own life, that much was clear, even if no one understood its disgusting language.

Scout-master Sini let out a grunt of her own, not taking her eyes off the vile creature and the kid in its hand.

‘The boy will be better off dead than a slave,’ Sini spoke finally, and lifted her sword a little higher, ready to lead the charge to kill the captor and likely cause the captive to die as well.

The little elven girl suddenly jumped up and tried to run to the boy. She was weak and slow, and Arde and the ranger woman with him, caught her. The girl screamed, pointing at the boy, begging the beast to let her brother go, begging Arde to let her go, and just begging and crying in general.

Krissintha gritted her teeth, and fought hard to keep herself from rushing the ork and put her sword through its skull herself. A kid. A little boy, who had a life of slavery to look forward to if they let the ork get away. Maybe Sini was right and letting the ork go with the kid wasn’t an option. Maybe the kid would be better off dead. She had had thoughts like that about herself, hadn’t she? There was no choice to make here, really: the boy would not become a slave, and the ork needed to be killed. A minuscule notion that existed in her mind, telling her that killing a living creature was wrong — even an ork — was vanishing fast and without a trace. But the kid …

Can you do it, Kevin? Can you eat its soul quickly enough? Before it could kill the kid? Krissintha asked, hoping the spirit could do it, and that it would hurt like hell.

Krissy, think before you speak, will you? Kevin wailed immediately.

I don’t care! Can you do it or not? Krissintha thought-yelled at her familiar.

On it already. I’m trying to get my tentacles around those fingers. I don’t want them to … like … twitch and snap the wrong way when I yank the fucker’s soul out.

Good, good. Keep at it! Krissintha said, almost letting out a sigh of premature relief.

The hell? Sini’s thoughts came.

She even turned her head to look at Krissintha, looking like someone who just got the worst possible news at the worst possible moment. Krissintha didn’t care: she knew everyone connected to Kevin could hear her, but … a child’s life wasn’t a price she was willing to pay just to keep her familiar’s eating habits a secret.

Hold on, hold on, what in the fuck are you two talking about? Dimal’s panicked thoughts came as well.

Dimal was miles away from them, somewhere near a cave where the other group of marauders were hiding. Krissintha was sure the man was making the same face as Sini right now.

Sini quickly explained to Dimal what was going on.

We’re killing the ork and getting the boy back. Krissintha stated to the both of them, looking at Sini.

Sure, killing the … ork … yes, but … did you just say “eating its soul”? Did I hear that right? Dimal said, his thought-voice filled with his confusion.

And what? Tentacles? What kind of familiar is he? Some sort of evil spirit? Sini demanded.

Uh … let’s see … just think of me as your friendly neighborhood evil spirit-man, doing whatever a spirit can. Yeah. That will do. Kevin said, sounding more at ease with the statement than Krissintha would have expected. She hoped he wasn’t too angry with her.

Does it even matter? He can get the kid back. Alive. Isn’t that all that matters? Krissintha argued her case.

Alright, alright, fine. We’ll take it. Dimal gave his long distance agreement. Sini, if the spirit-man can kill that pile of barbarian shit and save the kid, you should let him do it.

Dimal! Sini tried to argue, her face losing colour.

The ork grunted something again, looking at the rangers, one after another, and just to make its point as clearly as it could, it tightened its massive fingers around the boy’s neck. The boy gasped and gurgled, then the beast loosened its grip, and repeated its unintelligible demands.

I can’t see the situation from here, but you should use what you have. Do you have time to consider other options? Are there even other options? Evil or not, the spirit’s offering a chance. I say take it. Dimal said to Sini.

Sini was in thought for a few moments, looking at the ork, then at Krissintha, then at the ork and the captive boy again.

Alright. She sent a thought, her eyes narrowing and focusing on the ork. Uh … Kevin, do you need us to do anything?

I think you should all take a few steps back. Make it look like you’re giving in to its demands. Hopefully that will make it less likely to get twitchy fingers when I gobble up that green, mushroom-y soul. Kevin said.

What? Mushroom-y? Sini asked, sounding as worried and confused as the look on her face suggested she was.

Well, if you must know, their souls taste like fried mushrooms. Not my favourite so far, but I’ve had worse. Kevin replied. I’ll tell you all about it later. Now. Let’s get this kid back.