Nature's Servant (66 page)

“As a team,” Gaspi repeated.

Their opponent was one of the few magicians present who
hailed from beyond the continent of Antropel. He was called Sthycass, one of the infamous spider-people of the Skelkan Swamps. Gaspi had heard tales about them in the college; stories which painted them as a primitive people steeped in a dark, pagan religion which revolved around the use of exotic poisons for both pain and pleasure. He certainly looked the part, pale-skinned and thin, draped in a murky, green-coloured robe and bald as a snake. His cheekbones were heavy and prominent, his muddy brown eyes narrowed to slits as he watched Gaspi approach. Taurnil only had eyes for the warrior, whose dread appearance was enough to make anyone blanch. He was extremely tall, several inches taller than Taurnil, and he was so emaciated he looked like the living dead. His joints protruded like ugly, swollen lumps, and the knobbly bones of his skull warped the shape of his bald, shiny scalp. He carried a wicked looking trident in one hand and a round, scaly shield in the other. He was armoured in the same, strange scaly material, which flexed and stretched as he moved. The spider-warrior’s lips pulled back in what might have been a smile as he met Taurnil’s gaze, revealing rows of teeth that had been filed to sharp points. Gaspi recoiled at the sight, and a gleam appeared in the spider-mage’s murky eyes as he observed his discomfort.

“TAKE YOUR PLACES,” the mayor shouted, and Gaspi moved with Taurnil to one of the enchanted circles of light.

“Sheesh,” Gaspi said. The Skelkans were terrifying.

“I know,” Taurnil muttered. “But they’re just an opponent like any other. Stay focussed.”

“Okay,” Gaspi said, trying to shrug off his discomfort. His perception sharpened as he waited for the mayor to start the bout. Taurnil’s gloves creaked as his hands shifted fractionally on his staff.

“BEGIN!” the mayor shouted, and the passage of time slowed to a crawl.

Gaspi shifted behind Taurnil, his feet scuffing noisily across the sand. The spider-people adopted the same formation, and the two teams started to circle, side-stepping around each other with slow, even steps. Gaspi summoned arcane energy to his fingertips, feeling the thrill of magic’s power as it coursed through him. He didn’t summon too much, matching the energy held by his opponent. The spider-mage was powerful in comparison to most of the magicians who’d competed so far, and Gaspi could sense enchantment around his clothing, or maybe inside his clothing too. This was not going to be a straightforward fight, and caution was called for.

The spider-warrior took a sudden stride forward and lanced out with his trident. He was wickedly fast, the triple blades of his weapon ripping through the air with frightening speed, scoring Taurnil’s chest. Taurnil hadn’t been prepared for the sheer range the tall fighter had with his long limbs and even longer weapon, and staggered backwards at the impact. The crowd gasped, but a glance told Gaspi that the enchantments on Taurnil’s armour had held, and it was undamaged. The spider-mage took advantage of the distraction, pulling a dirk from within his robe and throwing it at him with a sharp flick of his wrist. It sped right towards his face, but Gaspi summoned a hasty shield and knocked it aside, his heart thumping with adrenaline. He drew power around him like a cloak, ready to shield against another attack, physical or magical. He tried to push what had almost happened out of his mind. If he hadn’t stopped that dirk…

Taurnil re-entered the fray, staff spinning wildly as he sprang at the spider-warrior. The tall fighter kept his balance as he shuffled backwards, and Taurnil pressed his advantage. The spider-warrior watched him carefully as he retreated, and then, choosing his moment, thrust his trident into the ground and, using it like a pole, swung around it and launched a kick at Taurnil’s head. The spider-warrior’s long legs thrust out, his foot shearing through the air, a metal blade embedded in the toe of the boot flashing in the sun. Gaspi froze, filled with horror as he watched the razor-sharp blade slicing towards his best friend’s face.

It was too late to stop Taurnil, whose momentum was carrying him directly into the path of the spider-warrior’s bladed boot, but then his spinning staff connected with the haft of the trident, and in a crucial test of strength, it was Gaspi’s enchantment that won out and the other weapon snapped in two. The spider-warrior tumbling to the floor, his deadly kick missing Taurnil altogether. Taurnil kicked him violently in the ribs, several of them snapping loudly under his heavy boot.

The spider-mage flung a red, sizzling bolt at Gaspi, but he heard it coming, a blazing streak of power that made the air hiss, and put all his energy into forming a sturdy force shield. He caught the strike in time, its energies dissipating against the strength of his defence, and Gaspi threw his shield over the spider-mage, pinning it to the ground and holding him in place. His enemy, for that was surely what he was, struck out at the shield, trying to break Gaspi’s hold on him, but to no avail.

To the side of him, the spider warrior scrambled awkwardly to his feet, clutching his ribs, but Taurnil didn’t give him a reprieve, nor even the chance to surrender. He thrust the butt of his staff into the spider-warrior’s gut and punched him in the face with a tightly clenched fist. The spider-warrior spun to the side and Taurnil stamped hard on the outside of his knee, snapping the joint with a sickening pop. The warrior cried out in agony, falling to his knees, but Taurnil didn’t back off. His battle rage was fuelled by pure fury, anger that radiated palpably from his clenched jaw and blazing eyes, and with vengeful intent he thrust the butt of his staff into the spider-warrior’s face, smashing his nose and cheekbones to pieces. Blood spattered as the spider-warrior’s head snapped back, his eyes rolling up into his head as he collapsed, unconscious.

Taurnil paced over to the trapped spider-mage in a cold fury, his staff raised threateningly. He held it over the magician’s head, the muscles in his enormous forearms bunching as he prepared to thrust downwards.

“Yield,” he said coldly, but the spider-mage just stared back at him hatefully.

Gaspi could feel the trapped magician summoning power and stepped in to finish the bout off, summoning the largest force strike he could muster. A ball of power three times the size of the spider-mage’s head swirled potently against his open palm, the devastating energies of his spell ready to use against the prone magician if he didn’t release his power.

“He said yield,” Gaspi hissed, and the magician let go of the energies he had summoned.

Gaspi lifted the shield holding him in place, but he didn’t let it dissipate, ready to slam it back in place if the spider-mage showed any sign of making more trouble. The spider-mage slowly lifted his hands in surrender, his eyes full of black hatred.

“WINNER; GASPI!” the mayor shouted, and the arena, which had been taut with tension as the deadly battle took place, broke into a riotous roar that almost made Gaspi cover his ears. Ignoring the commotion, he retreated with Taurnil to a distance, where they held a hurried conference.

“He was trying to kill me,” Taurnil said in earnest, fury evident in every word.

“I know,” Gaspi said angrily. “Sthycass tried to put one of my eyes out.”

“Sheesh,” Taurnil exclaimed. “If the enchantment on that trident had been as strong as the one on my staff, that kick would have landed. Did you see the blade in his boot?”

“Yep,” Gaspi said. “We’ve got to finish this off fast. It’s too dangerous.”

“I agree,” Taurnil said firmly. “Don’t hold back Gasp. Just finish it!”

“Okay,” Gaspi said, thinking through how to do that. He still wasn’t willing to strike them with lightning, or do anything else that would kill them outright, but he would just use all of his strength right from the outset. “Warrior first or magician?” he asked.

“Warrior,” Taurnil said. “Take him out of action and we can go for the mage together.”

Gaspi wasn’t sure that was the right way round, but he didn’t want to leave Taurnil exposed to the vicious fighter any longer than he had to. “Okay Taurn,” he said. While they’d been talking, the healers had come on and taken care of the warrior’s injuries and the mayor was ready for them to fight again.

“TAKE YOUR PLACES!” he shouted, and they moved back into the enchanted circles of light. The spider-warrior had abandoned his broken trident and had drawn two curved scimitars from within his clothing. They weren’t big but they were wickedly sharp, gleaming with the green tint of whatever enchantment they contained. 

“BEGIN!”

Gaspi didn’t hesitate. He drew power and formed a densely packed force strike. Taking aim, he cast it at the warrior, but the tall fighter was already moving, sidestepping with surprising speed, and the strike missed. The spider-mage had also summoned power, a globe of swirling, off-green light that made Gaspi feel sick when he looked at it. He broke into a panic, desperate to interrupt the unknown spell before it was cast. Reaching within his robes, he pulled out one of his knives and flicked it at the spider-mage’s unprotected torso. The blade flew true but he was too late. The spider-mage released the strike just in time, and to Gaspi’s horror, his target was Taurnil. The knife flipped end over end and plunged into the magician’s shoulder, but Gaspi only had eyes for the strike. It rushed through the air, its putrescent light intensifying, and even though time seemed to slow down, there was nothing he could do to stop it colliding with Taurnil’s chest. He watched in horror as his best friend collapsed to the ground, retching violently, his staff abandoned besides him.

Distantly, he was aware of someone yelling, the sound growing louder by the moment. Glancing up, he saw the spider-warrior bearing down on him, swords swinging to cut him down. Aware that the spider-mage was summoning more power, Gaspi knew he had to remove the warrior from the fight straight away. Without even thinking about how he did it, he reached under the approaching warrior and spun him away as simply as if he were flipping a coin. The crowd gasped as the tall warrior flew high into the air, spinning end over end before crashing head first into the ground. Gaspi rounded on the spider-mage, drawing up a shield as he did so. All he cared about was finishing the fight so he could see to Taurnil, who was writhing on the ground, groaning in such transparent agony that it tore him apart to hear it.

The spider-mage was holding a pitch black globe of power, and with a look that told him his shield wasn’t going to be of any use, he flicked it from the end of his fingers. Gaspi’s eyes widened as the strike swelled in his vision. There was no time to get out of the way, and the look in the spider-mage’s eyes filled him with mortal fear. Somehow he just knew that if the strike landed, he was going to die. From the periphery of his vision, he saw four blurs of colour speed out from the crowd: one green, one blue, one storm-grey and one black. The elementals! Lilly’s blue light, the shining embodiment of a water spirit, was out front, and she sped directly at the strike itself. She collided with it just feet from him, absorbing its dark mass into her own glimmering form. Loreill shot straight into Gaspi’s body, protecting him from within, and the other two spirits sped towards the spider-mage himself. The spider-mage roared with fury, casting soul-strikes at the approaching elementals, but they passed harmlessly through the spirits’ non-corporeal bodies.

“STOP!” the mayor shouted, running into the fray with his enchanted staff held aloft. A soul-strike sizzled by, only inches from his face, and he thought better of it. He turned and ran away from the battle as fast as he could, his colourful hat tumbling to the ground behind him.

A wild roaring filled the air as a cold storm front surged past Gaspi and whipped into Sthycass. The spider-mage staggered backwards, trying to keep his feet, throwing out strikes all the while, but the flow of air only intensified, knocking him to his knees. The fire spirit threw back its head, its body glowing fiercely as it burst into flames. Super-heated air crackled in the magical inferno, the sand around it bubbling as it melted. The spider-mage cried out as the heat hit him. He tried to get to his feet and run but the fire spirit reached out with flame wreathed limbs and grabbed his head. He ignited in an instant, a blazing human torch that wailed in unspeakable torment for an interminable moment before his lungs finally gave out.

The flaming corpse that only seconds ago had been Sthycass collapsed in on itself, bubbling and burning itself out like a candle thrown into a blazing hearth. His body turned to ash, whipped up by the air elemental’s storm and carried across the arena. It descending onto the stunned audience, landing on their clothing and hair, and slipping into their open mouths. Their frozen state of shock descended into chaos as they coughed and retched, spitting it out in disgust as they brushed at themselves furiously.

When the fire spirit stopped burning the spider-mage’s corpse, there was nothing left of it but a blackened smudge in a wider circle of black glass. The spirit transformed to dragon form and flapped to Gaspi’s side. The air spirit transformed back to its bodily form too and came to rest on his shoulder.

“Lilly, see to Taurnil!” he commanded. Seemingly unaffected by the black ball of pestilential energy she had absorbed, Lilly sped to Taurnil, who was now unconscious, lying on the sand of the arena floor. She hovered over him for a moment and then slowly sank down within him, disappearing from sight.

“Taurnil!” a distraught voice cried from the audience, and within moments Lydia, Emea and Rimulth were sprinting across the sand towards them. Voltan was hurtling towards them like a storm, his hawk-like face tight with anger, and Jonn came in his wake. Lydia and Emmy fell on their knees at Taurnil’s side, Lydia’s tear-stained face stricken with worry.