“HA! YOU THINK YOU CAN HURT LORD SILURUS WITH A LITTLE SMOKE – ”
Lord Silurus’ taunt cut off as Den’s wind blew the smoke into his gills and coated them with sickly yellow pollen.
“UGH! UGH! UUUUUUUGH!”
The catfish demon flapped his gills, then rolled onto his side and smacked his tail on the ice, writhing and trying to scrape the pollen off. The hail of weapons stopped.
“Lord Magnissimus! Try again now!” shouted Den.
The boar snorted. “You doooo not need to tell meeee.”
He reared up on his hind legs and huffed at the set of gills that weren’t covered in pollen. Again, Den’s wind caught up the icy fog and swept it across Lord Silurus. Crystals of ice formed, growing bigger and bigger until they formed a white crust over the gills.
“RAAAAAARGH!”
Lord Silurus’ tail struck the frozen river so hard that his body flew into the air. When he crashed back down, the impact cracked the ice.
“Captain Rock, you’re up!” called Den.
“CHAAAAAARGE!”
Captain Rock pumped his fist in the air, and howling, his soldiers rushed down the riverbank. At the edge of the ice field, they formed into ranks and hurled smoke crocks at the catfish demon, trying to knock him out. One nearly hit Lord Magnissimus.
“Waaaatch it, you useless monkeeeey!”
Furious, the wild boar barreled at his own allies, seized the soldier who’d nearly hit him (by accident? By command? Who knew?), bit off his arm, and swallowed it. The rock macaque fell to the ground, clutching the stump and shrieking, while his comrades scattered.
That section of the line was collapsing.
----------------------------------------
“We have to do something!”
Yulus griped the armrests of his throne and leaned forward, as if by getting six inches closer to the vision on the wall he could will it to show something different. Densissimus Imber’s army was fighting further upriver than they’d negotiated! They were killing the denizens of Black Sand Creek!
After the squad of fleeing rock macaques had crashed through Captain Carpa’s lines with Lord Silurus on their heels, the shrimp guards had regrouped and begun to help the spectators to safety. But then the river had frozen solid! Its surface had turned opaque, and then icicles had grown down and out, glowing blue-cold. Yulus’ vassals had been trapped. Now bulging eyes and distorted, screaming faces stared out of the ice, accusing their king of failing to save them.
“We have to melt the ice! We have to get them out!”
Yulus jumped off his throne and swam for the door, but Nagi was faster. She planted herself in his path so he nearly crashed into her, and hissed.
“No! Your Majesty, if you melt the ice, you’ll help Lord Silurus escape! We can’t let them say that the Black Sand Creek Water Court betrayed them!”
“But our people!”
Yulus cast a helpless glance at the terrified, pleading eyes of shrimp guards and frogs, catfish and water snakes and crabs. Even Nacre the freshwater pearl oyster spirit was there, suspended upside down. Why had the superintendent abandoned his duties at the Pearl Farm to spectate in a war zone?
“A little cold won’t kill them!” Nagi urged. “They’ll be fine as long as the battle doesn’t drag out too long! Your Majesty, you cannot melt that ice!”
Yulus clenched and unclenched his claws, then sagged. Nagi was right. He couldn’t interfere. In the negotiations, he had been explicit that the Black Sand Creek Water Court would stay neutral.
Slinking back to his throne, he sat back down. All he could do now was pick at his scales and watch the battle unfold.
----------------------------------------
“IDIOTS! IMBECILES! Can’t do anything right! Form up! Keep going!”
A furious Captain Rock was jumping up and down, just as Den and Floridiana had described from their fight in the Wilds. This time, it had slightly more effect: His soldiers straggled back into position – more or less. They left a big gap in their line where Lord Magnissimus was now leisurely snuffing at the writhing, one-armed rock macaque.
Fascinated, I watched as he tore off the other arm and swallowed it too, then moved on to the legs, the torso, and finally the head. For as long as he was physically capable, the rock macaque kept screaming.
Mistress Jek shuddered. Sir Gil gulped back down his vomit. We spirits just observed.
While their ally was dismembering their comrade, the rest of the rock macaques got back to hurling smoke crocks. Pottery smashed against the catfish’s sides and surrounded him in a yellow miasma. Lord Silurus thrashed and roared, although there was a different quality to his voice now. Dared I say it sounded like…choking?
“SWITCH TO ACORNS!” bellowed Captain Rock.
The rock macaques rushed onto the ice, surrounded Lord Silurus, and spat acorns at him, aiming for his gills and eyes. Nuts ricocheted off his skin and bounced across the frozen river. Little sprays of ice rose where they hit, raising a blue-white mist that made it hard to see. Lord Silurus roared again and thrashed harder. One whisker raked through the air and looped around a group of seven rock macaques. It lifted them up while they fought and shouted for help.
I thought the catfish demon was going to eat them – but he flung them at us instead. Sir Gil, who was still holding me, hunched over, and I yanked my head into my shell. Den used his wind to knock the rock macaques off course so they didn’t land on top of us, but they struck the ranks of the reserves.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Close on their heels came a rumble in the ground. I stuck my head back out in time to see a mountain of bristles charge past. Lord Magnissimus began to take large bites out of the dazed rock macaques who were lying on the ground.
Sir Gil protested, “Shouldn’t we, uh, stop him?” but took no step towards the wild boar.
Floridiana gave him a cold stare. “Lord Magnissimus has a treaty with the Lady of the Photinia Tree that he is permitted to eat all fallen rock macaques.”
The human knight was too cowed and too close to the wild boar to point out that we weren’t in the Lady of the Photinia Tree’s fief and Baron Claymouth had signed no such treaty. He looked between Floridiana and Captain Rock, neither of whom seemed perturbed that our soldiers were simply getting eaten by their ally; carefully avoided looking at Lord Magnissimus; and seemed to come to the conclusion that, in the end, who cared about one or two or even a dozen demons fewer?
So long as we had enough left to win, of course.
Floridiana. At the sound of my voice, the mage twitched. Don’t let Lord Magnissimus get distracted. He can execute the terms of his treaty after the battle.
I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that. Any more than Captain Rock was going to join the assault alongside his troops.
Careful not to look straight at me, Floridiana gazed past me at the massive wild boar who was devouring still-living, screaming rock macaques. Then she marched right up to him.
I couldn’t hear what she said, but he raised his head, glared at her, and finished slurping down a tail. He didn’t attack another rock macaque, but neither did he make any move towards the river.
I had a sudden inspiration. Lord Magnissimus! I called from the shelter of Sir Gil’s hands. Fresh catfish flesh tastes amazing! Eat the giant catfish!
One blue-white eye rolled in my direction. “Dooooes it noooow?”
Yes! It’s sweet and succulent and has the most amazing texture! I can personally vouch for that!
Some of the others within earshot gave me odd looks, perhaps wondering why Heavenly denizens ate such a lowly fish as catfish, but it worked. Lord Magnissimus trotted for the river.
“Mage Floridiana,” Mistress Jek called from the supply wagons, “we’re running low on acorns!”
The rock macaques hadn’t been able to transport nearly enough ammunition out of the Wilds. So the people of the barony had collected all the appropriate-sized rocks they could find, and Floridiana had spelled them to carry more of a punch. She wasn’t happy about performing such tedious, draining labor, but Den had flat-out refused to let her participate in more exciting front-line combat – and she’d listened.
Just another change the Wilds had wrought on Den. I knew I’d been right to send him there.
Now Floridiana stomped back towards the wagons, muttering, “I don’t know why I’m playing quartermaster.”
Even though quartermaster was more Mistress Jek’s role than hers, and even though she’d been talking to herself, I answered, Because you’re neither as strong as Lord Magnissimus nor as expendable as the rock macaques.
She didn’t dare glare at me, but the glance she slid my way was heading in that direction. Familiarity really did breed contempt. Good thing Flicker was taking me away after the battle, because these people weren’t going to obey me much longer.
----------------------------------------
Lord Magnissimus was barreling at the ginormous catfish, his hooves kicking up sprays of ice. “Sweet and succulent with the most amazing texture,” Heaven’s creature had claimed. Ha! He’d see for himself.
Heaven lied. Heaven lied all the time. Heaven was full of lies and lying liars and prissy, arrogant, self-righteous demons who called themselves gods. At least people who lived in the Jade Mountains had the decency to call themselves what they were.
This Lord Silurus did too. He didn’t deny he was a monster. He embraced it.
Honestly, Lord Magnissimus felt a greater kinship with the catfish he was here to devour than he did with his allies, who blathered on and on about justice and salvation and the retribution of Heaven with star-struck eyes. Ha!
He’d reached the catfish now. Lord Silurus was flopping on the ice, weakened by all the magic he’d expended, the barrage of acorns, and the Lady of the Photinia Tree’s smoke. (Which was potent – Lord Magnissimus had seen it in action too many times not to acknowledge its potency. Not that it would work on him, of course.)
Ambling up to the catfish’s side, he opened his jaws wide for a big bite. His teeth scraped painfully against armor-like skin. What?
He shook his head, opened his mouth, and tried again. This time, his incisors punctured the skin. The catfish convulsed. Hanging on with his teeth, Lord Magnissimus used the fish’s motion to help wrench off a piece. It was barely more than a scrap. Mostly fish skin with a bit of flesh attached. Well, that was enough for now. He chewed a few times to test the flavor and texture.
Hmmm, Heaven’s creature had told the truth about this, at least. Fresh catfish did taste good.
He went for another bite.
----------------------------------------
The sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky now. Its crimson rays stained the clouds and the frozen river and the ice crusted on Lord Silurus. Spirits didn’t bleed red – our (their) blood ran a blue-tinged green – but Sir Gil looked queasy, as if he were viewing the aftermath of a peasant revolt.
Den called upwards, “Master Gravitas! We need your cats!”
There was no sound, but all of a sudden the branches over the river sprouted furry lumps. As the sun dropped behind the hills and bruise-purple shadows fell across the river, the cat spirits’ eyes lit up. They cast points of greenish light wherever the cats looked, showing the rock macaques where to aim.
We were winning. The smoke and ice had clogged up Lord Silurus’ gills so he couldn’t shoot out weapons anymore, and the steady blast of acorns and rocks was wearing down his skin. He was barely moving anymore.
Maybe we could finish him off soon, soon enough for me to say goodbye to everyone before Flicker took me away. That would be nice. I’d like that. Even though I wasn’t looking forward to telling Bobo about Stripey –
And that was when Lord Silurus opened his jaws and spoke. It wasn’t his usual, coarse, third-person boom. It was musical and female.
It cried: “Help! Please help! Help me!”
----------------------------------------
On his throne, Yulus froze. He knew that voice.
“Mooncloud?” he whispered.
----------------------------------------
The rock macaques hesitated. The barrage of rocks faltered.
“It’s a trick! Keep going!” urged Den, seconded by Captain Rock: “IDIOTS! IT’S A TRICK!”
The rock macaques resumed spitting rocks, but another voice rang out. A young man’s this time, with a hint of a crack from where it hadn’t finished changing.
“Stop! Stop! We’re all in here! You’ll kill us all!”
Sir Gil gasped. “Brother?”
His hands clenched on my shell, squeezing me until I kicked him. Then he relaxed his grip, but his eyes never left the dark form on the ice.
“That’s my brother. He got eaten. Eighteen years ago. He’s still in there? He’s still alive?”
“It’s a trick!” Floridiana called. “Don’t fall for it! He stole the voices of his victims! It can happen!”
Next to her, Mistress Jek stood like a lump of ice.
Touching her arm, Floridiana repeated, more gently, “It’s a trick, Vanny. I’m sorry, but she’s gone. He’s trying to trick us into sparing his life.”
“But what if…it isn’t? A trick.” It was Sir Gil who rasped out the question.
“I’m sorry,” said the mage. “No one could have survived inside him. We have to keep going. For the sake of all the children who are living in the barony now.”
I backed her up. Mage Floridiana is correct. There are no living victims inside Lord Silurus.
I would know. That first voice had been Mooncloud’s, and I certainly wasn’t trapped inside Lord Silurus waiting for rescue. There was nothing in his stomach but acidic sludge.
Mistress Jek swallowed hard. Her shoulders slumped. She touched the flute tucked into her belt. “I see….”
But that was when a third voice drifted out of Lord Silurus’s maw. High-pitched, childish, wavering.
“Mama?”
Mistress Jek screamed.