25. My Hero

Stupid Shade.

It wasn’t her fault; she was only saying what they were all thinking. Every single one of them was just there for their own benefit. How could they possibly pretend otherwise, after that horrid Shade had shown his true colours? And still, Caela had chosen empathy. Chosen to keep playing happy families. Chosen to maintain the lie.

Hardly surprising, considering she’d insisted on inviting that awful Johannes - even after he’d desecrated Blessed Nature’s domain with his Hellebore resurrection nonsense.

Stupid Johannes. Stupid Caela.

No, that was unfair. Caela was a bit of a country bumpkin, and slightly massively naïve, but she wasn’t stupid.

How could she be so wilfully unrealistic? More than that - how could she not see what was happening to Lux?

Anyone could see there was a fight brewing between him and Valerios. Honestly, Freija could almost have stayed just to see the sparks fly when it all kicked off. But she was less concerned with that spat, and more concerned with Lux’s new confidant.

Kazzik, that nasty slippery salmon, was up to something.

When he and Lux weren’t whispering in corners, they were trading knowing glances from afar. For a sex cultist, the atmosphere was, admittedly, surprisingly innocent. Nevertheless, Freija recognised the signs of an uncomfortable proposition. She’d made enough of them herself, after all.

Stupid Kazzik. Stupid Lux.

Well, Lux’s guilt-ridden melodrama was none of her business. None of it was. Freija was just here to have fun, not get dragged into some dismal family therapy exercise.

And look where that had brought her.

The blizzard sliced through the thin wool covering Freija’s belly. To combat the weather, she’d adopted the form of the leggy goats that roamed her home island. Woolly and sure-footed, yes - but better suited to Nabal’s barren cliffs than trudging through snow. Ideally, she would’ve spent time amongst the local fauna until she’d learned their shapes. Thanks to the party’s forced march, however, she hadn’t had the chance.

Stupid Valerios.

Fun - that’s why she’d come on this silly expedition. And what was more fun than freezing to death on Ciria’s shapely backside?

She could barely see her cloven hooves in front of her face. The ground was icy, littered with loose rock, and even with her goatlike grace she had to place each step carefully. So focused on her path, she was startled when a thin shadow reared out of the grey soup ahead. She sidestepped sharply to avoid the tree.

Except… it wasn’t a tree. The trunk was too square, too short. Freija eyed the wooden beam with passing interest, but froze when she glanced upwards.

A dead body was impaled on its jagged tip, arms swaying like pine branches in the storm. From its rotund shape, it had once been a dwarf. Its steel breastplate had been punched through with ease, and a dark ring on the timber showed how far the blood had flowed before freezing solid.

Freija shuddered. Her next few steps were timid, perfectly suiting her prey-animal form. It wasn’t long before she found more spikes, each crowned with a grisly trophy. As she passed beneath the ghastly totems, she almost felt them watching her. In the breeze, they seemed to shake their misshapen heads in grim disapproval. It was a mistake to come here, their ghostly voices whispered.

More wreckage was scattered across what she could now see was a battlefield. Cartwheels and splintered boards jutted from the snow like tombstones - the graveyard of the Steelbeard Caravan.

She’d been too angry to notice at first, but now she was forced to admit it: she wasn’t in peak condition. Last night’s theatrics had sapped her of the little energy left over from the summit ascent.

Freija cursed herself. She always got carried away. That was her problem.

Over the wind came an earth-shaking bellow from somewhere close by.

Well, one of her problems, anyway.

Stupid Freija.

—

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

The crisp, even footsteps came from somewhere within the whirling snowstorm, settling like snowflakes upon Caela's pointed ears.

She was standing exactly where Freija had left her, on the threshold of the campsite in the ruins. Her thoughts still reeled from the one-two punch of Shade and Freija's departures. She should have seen the warning signs - the two had circled each other like spitting cats ever since they started out from San Aria. Caela had been fighting so hard to keep them happy that in the end, she'd lost both.

A trio of black smudges surfaced from the blizzard, resolving into the face of Mene. Back in San Aria, Caela remembered his coat being a mottled grey-brown, but in this cold climate it had grown in thick and white, his silhouette blending into the snow.

He padded to her side, sticking his cold nose into her hand and stirring her from her reverie. His shaggy mane rustled, and out popped The Beast, peering around with unnatural wisdom in its beady eyes. Johannes had volunteered his familiar’s senses in the search for the others, peering through its eyes and smelling with its sharp nose.

Caela turned back to the smouldering campfire. Johannes was reclining, eyes glazed over, looking even more distant than he usually did. Valerios huddled beside him, as thickly wrapped in furs as a hibernating bear. Lux poked listlessly at the firepit with the point of his sword.

On the other side of the room, the dwarves huddled together, talking quietly amongst themselves. Perhaps they were cautious of being caught up in another fight.

The only other one on their feet was Kazzik. His claustrophobic pacing suggested that, like her, he had a lot on his mind.

“Anything?” Caela asked, with more hope than she really felt.

Johannes sat up, vacant gaze refocusing. He offered her a wan smile.

“The Beast sensed two trails. One belongs to a man, headed uphill.”

Valerios grunted bitterly. “Shade. He flees back to Mulmais.”

Johannes inclined his head. “He doesn’t have the supplies to make another ascent. I fancy he’ll take the slow road around the mountain and try to get picked up by a caravan.”

They took a moment to imagine Shade’s hitchhiking methods. Valerios harrumphed in distaste.

“The other set of tracks,” Johannes continued, “suddenly switches from two legs to four. It seems that Freija had a bit of magic left after all. I dare say she shall need it, considering where she’s headed.”

Kazzik came to a sudden stop. “She wouldn’t…” he said, alarmed. “The caravan wreck?”

He looked over at the dwarves. If they’d heard his outburst, they didn’t show it.

“Of course.” Valerios sounded unsurprised. “There is only one path forward, and she will not retreat. Freija has suffered embarrassment upon frustration upon failure. She needs a victory. She will be looking for a fight.”

Johannes sighed heavily. “In that case, she’s bitten off far more than she can chew - even with her penchant for polymorphism. The Frost Giants - Ciria’s Bane - are as ancient as they are cruel. Their tongue bends the earth itself to their will.”

He lowered his voice, eyes flicking to the Steelbeard survivors.

“I must confess, I am… envious. They must be among a very few to see one up close and live to tell the tale.”

Lux nodded. “They were lucky. They’d have been a three-dwarf meal if it weren’t for Wensley and that trinket of his.”

Kazzik coughed self-consciously. “Speaking of which,” he interjected, careful to maintain his volume, “we might have another problem.”

Lux looked up at him with a frown. “Right. Wensley’s story had you jumpy as a cat. You think it’s somethin’ to do with the hellhounds?”

Kazzik nodded. “It’s everything to do with them. Mirazh suspected someone might’ve used a magic amulet to pry open a door into her domain.”

“Which is...?” Valerios prompted.

“…very hard to get into,” Kazzik finished smoothly. “Hence the need for powerful magic. The fact we met just the three hounds suggests the portal was only open briefly. But if the amulet falls into the wrong hands, it could open again.”

His dark brows furrowed. “Someone was sending the damned thing to Aegiswood. If it had arrived… well, I suppose that doesn’t matter now.”

Lux removed his sword from the fire, tapping the ash from its tip. The sound had the - perhaps unintended - effect of drawing the attention of the group.

“Well?” He demanded of the silence. “What are we waiting for?”

“Don’t be hasty, boy,” warned Valerios. “We regroup and plan our approach.”

“Freija might be countin’ her last minutes on her fingers!” Lux protested. “We can’t just sit here and let time run out.”

“The only ‘might’ I care about is military might,” Valerios said adamantly. “I, too, feel a duty to save our ally, even if I did predict she would be a liability. Nevertheless, we will not rush to act. We have seen enough foolishness and rash decisions. Now, we do things my way.”

Johannes laid a hand on Lux’s shoulder. “Better to gather information before diving into the unknown,” he said kindly.

Lux looked up at Caela, blue eyes full of challenge. She held his gaze before breaking away. Even before she found the words, she knew what her answer would be.

It was fear that rooted her to the ground - fear of the known.

Most people can’t imagine dying. Not really. They go through life assuming that everything will work out for them, somehow. A few - like Rose - were able to come to peace with the concept by ignoring it entirely.

Caela knew better. She knew what death felt like. Even now, the memory of the numbness hung about her, like a burial shroud she’d not entirely escaped.

She wasn’t just afraid of the idea of death. She’d seen the other side, and didn’t want to go back.

More than that, though, she didn’t want anyone else to endure it.

The scars of the battle under San Aria were still fresh, and the fight between Shade and Freija had undone any healing. In the blink of an eye, their group had shrunk to five people. The same number that had escaped Vozloc’s workshop. She could lose the rest just as easily.

“I’m sorry, Lux,” she said weakly. “I don’t think we should go right now.”

Lux opened his mouth to respond, but the click of Kazzik’s heel cut him off. He stepped between them, and for the first time Caela saw his noble breeding clear as day. Spine straight, head held high, as if he was holding court.

“Caela’s right.”

Both she and Lux stared at him. That was the last thing she’d expected.

“It’s too dangerous for you,” Kazzik continued, voice heavy with regret. “Between the giants and that amulet, Freija’s in serious trouble. And if it’s too much for her…”

“I can help!” Lux insisted, leaping to his feet.

Kazzik shook his head. “If I had it my way, Lux, believe me…” He sighed. “However, your teammates have made it clear that they want you to hang back. And if that’s what your…”

He felt out the syllables of the next word.

“...leader wants, then I’ve got to back that decision.”

Lux’s mouth tightened, but Kazzik pressed on smoothly.

“Freija’s rescue should be a quick, quiet mission. I will go, alongside Valerios.”

“As if I would follow your plan, wizard,” Valerios muttered.

Kazzik ignored him. “Stay here with Caela, as she asks,” he said, locking eyes with Lux. “We’ll get Freija back for you.”

Lux had had enough. “Forget it!” he spat. “I’m not getting left out of anything else, and I’m damn sure not sitting by while someone is in trouble!”

His raised voice had attracted the attention of the dwarves. Kincave started as he snatched up his travelling pack.

“Ye can’t fight it!” she cried. “Ye’d need twenty men’s worth-”

Lux rounded on her, eyes flaring gold. He jabbed a thumb into his breastplate.

“I am twenty men’s worth!” he roared, loud enough that his words echoed back at them from the ruined stone walls.

Sword drawn, he spun on his heel and stormed to the door. For an instant, as he brushed past, Caela met his eyes. The gold glint in them was bright enough to drown out the blue - an intensity that frightened her.

Only her sharp hearing caught his last words as he charged out into the storm.

“I am. I have to be.”

—

“Lux, wait!”

For once, Caela's fleet steps were no match for Lux. She pushed to keep up as he forged through the Pass, stumbling over patches of spindly foliage hiding under the top layer of snow. His Candlelight-drenched sword was the only part of him she could still see. It weaved and bobbed, a golden beacon receding into the grey.

“Damned whelp!” Valerios cursed, rushing downhill after her like a moustachioed avalanche. “I should let him go, if he’s that desperate to meet his end.” Despite his words, he made no indication of slowing down.

Caela almost tripped over Mene as the wolf, nearly invisible against the snow, suddenly stopped. He let out a warning growl, hackles rising. Her stomach lurched when she saw what he had seen.

Freija's hoofprints zigzagged through a copse of shattered wooden beams, each tipped with the impaled corpse of a dwarf. The light of Lux's sword halted in front of the first one, wavering just a little. Ahead, Caela could barely make out the boxy shadows of what she hoped had once been the Steelbeard caravans. Not for the first time, she thought that Durham's crew had made the right decision in choosing to stay behind. They had agreed that Durham would receive word from them if they managed to clear the Pass. And if no word came... well, that was a pretty clear message in itself.

Lux’s voice echoed back to them, distorted by the storm.

“It’s her! She's...”

They hurried after him - Caela, Valerios, Johannes and Kazzik. He, at least, seemed to have found a second wind after the toll of the journey, tail lashing in trepidation - or was that eagerness?

Staying close together, they weaved between the grisly stakes. Then, for a brief moment, the flurrying snow cleared - and they saw what lay before them.

The scene was like something out of a fairy tale - albeit one of those old, grim tales meant to scare children from wandering into the woods.

Freija knelt in a rough cage, the bars made from woven branches. She was in her two-legged form, looking as pathetic as Caela had ever seen her. Raking scratches covered her arms and legs, with no sign she’d even tried to heal them. The natural cloud of her hair had been pulled apart like wool on a spinning wheel, sticks and leaves tangled into the damp strands. Her eyes, dull and staring blankly into the wind, sparked with surprise when she noticed the others.

“Go... away...” she croaked, clutching the bars of the cage.

Lux paused for a moment, then pressed forward, reaching out to her. Freija covered her face in her hands, shaking her head. “You never… listen…”  

“The frost giant!” Johannes cut in, over Freija's protestations. “Did it get you?”

Freija looked up at them, green eyes dampened by a resigned kind of dread. Then she looked past them. And up.

“Be-hind... you...”

Caela felt the ground rumble, Mene letting out a warning growl. She turned to see a shadowy mound she’d taken for a snowbank begin to rise.

“Egads!” Johannes cried. “It’s...”

The giant lifted its cart-sized torso on forearms that, though shrivelled and dry, were the size of tree trunks. Around its birdlike chest hung a garland of skulls - some human-shaped, and some like Caela had never seen. The grisly pearl charms clacked together as the giant drew itself up, though not to its full height. As the freshly-fallen snow sloughed off, Caela saw that its legs were charred and useless. Apparently the hounds had dealt some damage before being driven off.

The rescue party balked before the massive figure. It was majestic in its decrepitude, like the dwarven ruins they'd just left. Its eyes were withered hollows, its mouth missing many slablike teeth, its centuries of beard growth ragged and wispy. Its jaws creaked open, emitting a bellow that seemed to originate from another time entirely. The earth shook again, and more tiny shapes began to emerge from the snow, marching forth in imitation of their gargantuan summoner.

Freija screamed in fear, huddling against the bars of her cage.

Caela staggered away, finding herself back-to-back with the others in a shrinking circle of safety. At first, she thought their ambushers were scrawny humanoids disguised in plant matter, with torsos covered in bristly leaves. Then her mind caught up - she saw their twig legs, their puppet gait. With a sickening twist in her stomach, she realised she was quite wrong.

They weren’t pretending to be bushes. They were pretending to be people.

The Relevant Party scattered as the twig-men fell upon them, sharp limbs stabbing at the space they'd just occupied. Valerios drew a pair of hand-axes from his arsenal, nodding in grim approval of their suitability. As the creatures sprang towards him, he became a steel whirligig, smashing them to fragments. No sooner did they fall, however, than Caela saw them rebundle, forming new torsi, arms, and clawed hands.

“The giant!” she yelled. “It's controlling them! We need to take it down!”

Lux was also struggling against a mob of twig-men. With an uppercut, he split one’s brittle body in two. He stared at the twitching limbs for a moment, before chopping down with his shining sword. As soon as Candlelight touched the wood, it ignited into golden flame, falling still.

“I'll draw them away!” he called.

Not waiting for a response, he waded towards Freija. A dozen twig-men converged around him, and even the cage began to dismantle itself into more woody warriors.

There was no point in arguing. Caela drew an arrow and lined up a shot against the giant's undersized head. The arrow buried itself into a sunken eye socket. Letting out another agonised roar, the giant reached out a withered hand, uprooting one of the pine trees with a single tug.

On command, the branches flattened themselves against the trunk, shedding their needles in a green rainfall. Then the bark flaked away, leaving a gleaming edge to the wood. The giant swung its new sword across the battlefield, sending forth a spray of snow and shattered caravan debris.

Caela had taken the only easy shot she'd be offered. She dashed from tree to tree, fleeing the giant in front of her and the twig-men harrying her from behind. The arboreal army had cut them off from Lux, Freija and the rest of the caravan debris.

Lux was fighting like a demon, almost lost in the molten arcs of gold. His earlier claim of the strength of twenty men had been bold, and she’d caught in his voice an uncomfortable echo of similar boasts she'd once heard. Just like the man who had trained him, Lux was getting overconfident. His progress towards the cage had stalled, and now he had to defend against threats from all around.

“We need to help Lux…” Caela began, without any idea of how to do so.

There was a click behind her - the clasp on Kazzik's black book. He leafed through it, holding a page open with his thumb as he stepped forwards.

“I've got him.” His voice thrummed with that alien resonance, as if someone else was harmonising every word.

“Eilanalie!”

Kazzik splayed open the pages of the book, unleashing a dozen smoking missiles that streaked into the air. They fell like a meteor shower around Lux, each setting light to a twig-man.

Despite the chaos, Lux seemed to know where the spell had come from immediately, sending Kazzik a wave of gratitude before wading back into the fight.

Kazzik snapped his book shut. “Well, that's all I can do,” he said lightly. “Be right back.” In a blink, he dashed towards the wreckage. It almost looked like he was going to dive into Lux's melee; instead, he turned behind one of the overturned carriages and was lost from sight.

Johannes fumbled around in the snow.

“What are you doing, old man?” Valerios panted, sidestepping another wild strike.

“I dropped my glass- ah!” Johannes was bowled over by one of the tree soldiers. Tumbling to the ground, he flailed wildly at its peg-legs, which became hard and clear under his touch.

As Mene hauled the creature away from the wizard, Caela watched its glassy limbs shatter easily into inert fragments. She stared at the remains, an idea forming.

“You can change the material,” she said to Johannes. “What other types can you do? How much? How fast?”

“That all depends- yah!”

Johannes’ incipient lecture was cut short as the tree they were hiding behind exploded.

The pine greatsword slammed into the frozen ground beside them, where it stuck for a second before the giant yanked it out for another half-blind swing.

“What about that?” Caela asked. “Can you make it… something less suitable?”

Johannes attempted to adjust his spectacles, but the dive had warped the frame. He gave her a lopsided grin, retrieving his orb from his pocket.

“Trivial, my dear. You bring me my materials, and I shall get to work.”

The next strike came for Valerios. Gamely, the paladin settled himself in a defensive crouch, axes crossed in front of him. The impact rang like a gong, and Valerios was launched into a nearby snow drift.

The recoil shuddered back down the sword, and the giant cried out in pain, its body racked by the aftershock. Caela stepped into its line of sight, gazing up at the jittering blade.

I’m not afraid of death. Well, maybe I am. But I’ll meet it on my terms.

The sword plunged towards her. She stepped aside at the last moment, the force of the giant’s strike driving it several feet into the earth. As the ancient creature strained to free its weapon, Johannes placed his orb against it, tracing a few quick lines. A tan colour spread across the wooden sword, as it suddenly fell as limp as a flag on a still day.

“Now, Valerios!” Caela cried. The nearby snow bank disgorged a furious Valerios, who charged underneath the flailing cloth sword. With a sharp cry, he buried both axes into the arm that was supporting the fallen giant. The giant bellowed, collapsing fully onto its face.

Valerios clambered onto its shoulder, and hefted his axes once more. A couple of swift blows to the back of the neck, crunching through mighty vertebrae, and the giant was dead.

At once, the reanimating twig-men screeched and disintegrated into loose sticks. Lux burst from a particularly large pile, his eyes still fierce despite his laboured breathing.

He was the first to reach Freija, who was extracting herself from the remains of her cage.

“You alright?” he asked, kneeling down.

“St-upi-d…” Freija said, her voice still hoarse. “Could-ave been k-illed…”

Johannes came to Caela’s side as she watched the scene from afar. He shook his head speculatively.

“Oh, dear. Not the reaction he was hoping for. Ah, well. At least we’re all alright.”

He chortled.

“That giant was quite something! My little trick paled in comparison to the creation of that sword - what art! What science! Such a shame to destroy it. Hmm, all’s well that ends well, I think.”

With an indulgent chuckle, he retrieved his pipe, and was about to place it to his lips when a thought occurred to him.

“It slipped my mind, Caela - while we were here, wasn’t there something else we were looking for?”

That was when Caela saw it. Not something fast, but something very still, like a predator about to strike.

Kazzik had picked something off the ground.

Caela turned her head, feeling the familiar prickle of dread down her spine. Everything seemed to be moving as slowly as treacle.

Glinting in Kazzik’s palm was a silver face, so stylised as to be nearly unrecognisable. It was ringed by a halo of wiggly spines, like a child’s drawing of the sun. With nimble fingers, Kazzik pushed in a few of the rays, playing the device like an instrument or a clever lock. Finally, the rest of the party took notice, as an audible ping rang across the valley.

It was as if reality itself had been struck with a sledgehammer. At an impact point just in front of Kazzik, blocks of - what, the air? - fell away, leaving a person-sized hole in space. The door spewed forth a roaring wind, carrying the scent of burning paper and cloves to Caela’s sensitive nose. What little she could see through the smoky air was a passage of maroon stone.

Kazzik stared through the portal, charcoal strands of hair whipping around his face. His hands still clutched the amulet to his chest, as if he were deep in prayer. While everyone was still stunned, he turned. With her keen vision, Caela saw his mouth momentarily flicker into a triumphant barb.

His pupilless eyes sought out Lux, only a few feet away. One hand still grasping the amulet, he raised the other in invitation.

“I meant what I said before, Lux!” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the gale. “We can help you! You want the power to save them? To make them see what you’re capable of?”

His fingers curled, beckoning.

“This is your last chance!”

This was a nightmare. Caela was unable to move, to speak, to blink. Her companions were only slightly less sluggish to react.

Johannes, of course, already understood what he was looking at. He looked from the two men to the gateway, wispy eyebrows raising.

“Stop them!” he cried.

Valerios was already moving, a cry of indignation on his bristling lips.

“Kn-ew it!” Freija managed to spit, filthy hands balling into impotent fists.

I should have seen it, Caela thought, dazed. I was so distracted by everyone else that I forgot about him.

I’ve made a terrible mistake.

Valerios closed the distance in an instant, arms thrown wide in a tackle. Lux looked from him to Kazzik, then over Kazzik’s shoulder, giving Caela an agonised look. His hand found Kazzik’s a moment before Valerios reached them. There was a metallic crack and a blinding flash of light. When it faded, a warped silver amulet was lying in the snow.

The three men, and the rift, were gone.

26. Ashes to Ashes >>