Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) (57 page)

Now, Fist
. Ma’am thrummed with glee as Justan drew and fired. The arrow was nearly too fast to follow. It struck Kenn right between the eyes, the impact rocking his enormous head back. Kenn let out a gasp of surprise, but the strike lacked its usual explosive effect. The arrow had barely sunk in past the tip. Kenn looked back down at Justan and his demonic face twisted in anger. The tiny arrow went up in flames.

Deathclaw could feel the heat at his back, but dared not take his attention off the green-armored creature before him. It stood at about his height, but each limb and segment of its body was covered in solid armor. Each plate overlapped another and Deathclaw had not been able to reach a seam to strike into. Its head was covered in a helmet with a rectangle cut out for its eyes and was otherwise featureless except for a thin vertical slit that extended from just under its eyes down to its chin.

Such thick armor should have weighed it down, but the creature didn’t seem to be encumbered at all. It was faster and stronger and harder than him. Every strike he got in with claw or tail barely scratched its bony plates. Only the precise control he had over his body had kept him alive so far. If only he had a brief moment to draw his sword, the fight might be even, but every time he reached for the hilt, the creature went on the attack.

He moved his head to the side, narrowly avoiding a slash from one of its daggers and at the same time, rose his foot to block the follow through of the blade in its second hand. The claws on his foot scraped along the hard plates on its forearm, but did no damage. He twisted and sent his tail out just under its guard. His tail barb struck at the joint of the beast’s armor in its armpit. Deathclaw felt flesh give and knew that he had finally done some damage.

The creature didn’t so much as grunt. The narrowing of its eyes were the only sign it had been hit. It twirled and whipped its leg around so fast Deathclaw almost didn’t see the kick coming. He raised his arm at the last possible moment and felt a crack as its heel struck.

Even before the pain hit, he knew that one of the bones in his forearm was broken. He dodged around the creature, trying to buy time while he forced his fist to close. He clenched his muscle around the bone, forcing it to set in place. He willed the magic within him to heal it and felt the bone tingle as his body started to work. Normally with a break this minor, his magic would have it partially healed in minutes, but this creature was not going to give him time.

It leaned forward and stabbed both daggers out in a double thrust. Deathclaw had to leap back to avoid being impaled. He wrapped his wounded arm around his back to protect it, knowing that he was going to have to defeat the beast without the use of one limb. He really needed to get to his sword, but now the hilt was even harder to get to because it was on the same side as his wounded arm.

Fist is coming
, said Justan’s voice from within the bond. Deathclaw felt a tiny click in the back of his mind and he could hear the ogre’s thoughts. His headache thumped with the increased stress. The human had somehow connected them together again. The ogre was running towards him, confident that he would be able to help kill the beast, but reluctant to leave Justan. Fist intended to end the fight quickly and get back to help the human.

Deathclaw hissed in irritation. The ogre would likely get killed. He chirped a command through the bond. If the ogre had been one of Deathclaw’s pack, he would have understood the tone of the chirp to mean, ‘hang back and wait for an opportune time to strike,’ but Fist charged on oblivious to the tone.

The creature saw him coming. It sent a quick kick into Deathclaw’s midsection and edged its way to the side. Now Deathclaw was between the beast and the oncoming ogre.

It is fast
, Deathclaw warned.
It is hard
.

So am I
, Fist said and charged on.
Justan said it is not wearing armor. That is its skin. The wizard made it hard
. Fist gathered the memories Justan had showed him and threw the information into Deathclaw’s mind.

When Justan had sent memories into Deathclaw’s mind, it had been done gradually, and felt almost as if he had experienced them himself. This was different. Fist just shoved them over. The overwhelming pile of thoughts inflamed his raging headache and threw off Deathclaw’s concentration. The beast took advantage.

The orc, for that is what Deathclaw now understood it to be, jumped and kicked out with both feet. The blow landed on Deathclaw’s chest, blasting the air from his lungs, and sending him sprawling right into the path of the oncoming ogre.

Fist reacted quickly, jumping over the raptoid with mace raised, intending to strike the beast down with one mighty blow. The orc stepped aside, and as the mace carved the air where it had been standing, slashed out with his dagger, scoring the ogre’s hip.

Fist grunted and swung the mace in a vicious backswing that the orc ducked under. It darted in with dagger extended, but Fist brought his large oval shield around with his other arm and connected with its wrist, knocking the dagger from its hand. He raised the shield and kicked out with one heavy foot. The orc rolled to the side to avoid the attack and as it came back to its feet, Deathclaw’s tail barb was there to meet it.

He aimed for the orc’s eyes, but it turned it head at the last moment and the barb merely scraped along its hardened skin. It crouched and backed away quickly, its one remaining dagger clenched in its left hand, and watched as the raptoid and ogre advanced.

Finally Deathclaw had the reprieve he was waiting for. He reached back with his good arm and worked Star free from its sheath. Hopefully the enchanted blade would do more damage than his claws.

We rush it together
, Fist announced. Though Deathclaw did not like taking orders, he didn’t disagree. It seemed the smartest course of action. He gave a mental nod and they charged forward.

The orc reared back and the vertical slit in the front of its face split open. To Deathclaw’s surprise, there was no nose or mouth within, just a toothless glistening maw. It lurched forward at Deathclaw and spewed a long stream of yellow liquid.

Deathclaw tried to dodge, but wasn’t fast enough. The stream spattered along the left side of his body. His scaled skin steamed and bubbled on contact with the substance. Deathclaw screeched. He dropped his sword and rolled in the mud of the riverbank, trying to quench the searing pain.

It turned and spewed another arc of acidic liquid at Fist. The ogre got his shield up just in time. The shield smoked on impact and he hoped that Bettie’s runes would hold up. The creature took advantage of the shield obscuring Fist’s view. It ran forward and when Fist lowered the shield to continue his charge, the orc was already in front of him.

It slashed the dagger over the top of his shield, slicing the tip of Fist’s nose. As the ogre flinched back, the orc grabbed the top edge of the shield, jumped up, braced its feet against the bottom of the shield and pulled back.

Fist, was caught off guard by the move. He tried to hold firm to the straps on the back of the shield but the orc had greater leverage. It wrenched his arm and ripped the shield from his grasp. It landed on its back and kicked the shield away before rolling to its feet.

The orc ducked a swing of Fist’s mace and stabbed out with the dagger, piercing the ogre’s forearm. Fist swung again. It countered. Fist realized that he was slowing down. Even with the increased speed the mace gave him, he wasn’t fast enough.

On his next swing, the orc ducked, then spun and kicked low, catching the back of Fist’s ankles. The orc’s weight wasn’t enough to knock the ogre from his feet, but it did knock him off balance. It then leapt up, launching its shoulder into his chest.

As Fist fell backwards, it reared back and opened its mouth slit ready to spit again.

Coal stepped behind Samson and Bettie. Once out of the view of the whip-creature’s stare, he laid down on the dirt. He cast a spell into the ground beneath him and swiftly burrowed down several feet into the earth. Once submerged and safe from the battle he was able to focus his entire mind on his bonded. He linked Samson and Bettie together and sent his consciousness into their bodies.

This creature is a plant,
he told them
. Those tentacles are vines and roots.

So where do I hit it?
Bettie asked.

It doesn’t have a central organ structure that we can reach out and strike. It doesn’t have a heart or lungs,
Coal said.
Think of it as a giant weed.

We can’t just pull the thing out of the ground,
Bettie grumbled.

What about that stalk?
Samson asked, watching the large eye that gazed back at them silently while its roots continued to feed on Pansy’s remains.

It is a possible weak point, but it’s well protected at the center of that mass of tentacles.

I could throw my spear, destroy the eye.
Samson suggested. He was an excellent marksman. Coal had no doubt he would strike true.

And if it doesn’t kill the thing, we just lost your damned spear
. Bettie said.
Then what’re you going to do, punch it?

True,
Coal said.

Do we have to fight it at all?
Samson asked.
It is pretty slow. Why don’t we just cut through the forest and leave it here.

Good point
, Coal said, glad that Samson had been the one to suggest it. He was pretty sure he already knew what Bettie’s response was going to be.
With how slow it moves and the way it took up the road, I’m guessing that this creature was created as a barrier. It’s not attacking. I think it was set here to separate us from the others.

Then we kill it quick and catch up to them
, Bettie replied.

Samson wasn’t ready to concede.
If we cut through the forest, we can be there so much fast-.

No! It killed Panzy. I ain’t leaving it alive
. Bettie twisted the handle on her hammer until it clicked into place.
Maker can set it on fire.

Coal felt her determination and knew there was no use arguing with her at this point.
How do you plan on getting close enough to use your hammer?

“I’m taking your shield, Samson,” she said aloud. Bettie often tired of speaking through the bond when she had perfectly good lungs to use. The half-orc grabbed the shield from its place strapped to one of their saddlebags. “What we do is we come at it together. You take the left, slashing with your spear. I’ll set the left side on fire.”

Will the shield stand up to an attack from that creature?
Coal asked.

She snorted. “I runed the wood myself. It’ll handle anything that plant can do.”

“And what do I do without my shield?” Samson asked.

“Do your rogue horse thing,” she responded.

Very well, Bettie
. Master Coal said and asked Samson,
Are you okay with this?

As always
, Samson responded and Coal began making the necessary changes to the centaur’s body.

At his current size, Samson was a large target. Coal shrunk him down until he was just over Bettie’s height. Then he worked on the centaur’s defenses. He hardened the skin on Samson’s human torso until it was as tough as stone, careful to leave more supple joints so that he could have full movement. Along his horse-like half, Coal thickened his pelt and stiffened each hair until it was as tough as wire.

“Good enough,” Samson said.
When are you going to teach Sir Edge how to do this? Gwyrtha would be even better suited to this kind of thing than I am.

He’s got to learn one thing at a time
. Coal explained.
We have a long journey ahead of us before we reach the Battle Academy. There will be plenty of time.

Samson and Bettie spread out and approached the whip-creature from opposite sides, eyeing it warily. Coal monitored their bodies, ready to heal them if either one was injured. The stalk at the center of the tentacles turned back and forth, unsure who to follow. Then the base of the creature shivered and another stalk rose to join the other. This new stalk focused its single eye on Bettie.

That answers that question
, Samson sent, glad he hadn’t wasted his spear.