ripped off the building’s roof in one fell swoop. I heard screams from within. It occurred to me then that perhaps cold and starvation weren’t the only reasons for this place’s low population.
Dorian made the smallest of motions, and the ground beneath the Storm began to ripple. It wasn’t enough to make the creature fall over, but it did stumble and turn its attention away from the hut and its inhabitants. The fighters in our group—Rurik, Alistir, Keeli, and Danil—wasted no time in charging forward. They stabbed their swords into the Storm’s leg—or rather, they attempted to. Whatever the monster’s hide was made of, it was too tough and thick for copper to pierce. I wasn’t even sure steel would’ve done it. The Storm glanced down irritably and knocked aside Danil and Rurik with one easy motion. Kiyo, in a large and vicious fox form, was right behind the fighters and attempted to sink his teeth into the Storm’s leg. The monster brushed him off as well.
The Storm began stomping toward the rest of us. Dorian slowed it by manipulating the ground again. At the same time, I felt Jasmine’s magic flare, and a sheet of snow flew into the creature’s eyes, momentarily blinding him. It was clever. Her magic spoke to water, which responded to her even when frozen. Still, I knew this wasn’t going to be enough.
“We’re just annoying it,” I said.
“Can you banish it to the Underworld?” asked Dorian.
“Not easily.” Creatures in worlds they didn’t belong in—like gentry and spirits—would be pulled into a gate back to their own worlds. I could also force entities somewhere else, like the Underworld, which would bring about instant death. “For something this big, I’d need to mark him with a death symbol. I don’t know that I can get close, let alone get the symbol on him. Her. Whatever.”
As though proving my point, a brave Keeli jumped forward and again tried to slash the monster with her sword—and again proved ineffectual. This time, at least, she was able to skillfully dodge his angry swat, thanks largely to more distraction from Dorian and Jasmine.
“Eugenie,” said Pagiel, touching my arm. “I have an idea.” He quickly explained it to me. I grimaced.
“Crude, but it might be effective,” I admitted. “Which one?”
We scanned the village, and I cursed the night since it limited the range of what I could see. “That one,” said Pagiel, pointing. “It’s the biggest.”
“Okay.” To Jasmine and Dorian, I said, “You guys do more of the same so it doesn’t realize what’s happening.”
I drew up the full force of my storm magic, forcing every air molecule I could (figuratively) get my hands on to obey me. Beside me, I felt Pagiel summon up his own air magic. Its feel was similar to mine, and we were able to sync up our forces. Joined with him, I was surprised at how strong he was. Maybe I shouldn’t have been since Ysabel was pretty adept with air too. I was still stronger, but having his backup made me feel almost godlike.
Together, we ripped one of the dead palms from the ground, doing it in a way that left the roots behind and created a splintery end. Even among its unusually large kin, this palm was pretty huge. Careful to match each other, Pagiel and I used the air to lift up the palm and turn it on its side so that it hovered in a parallel line to the ground.
“We have to make this count,” I said. “We need a hurricane- or tornado-worthy blast here, or it’s just going to knock him over. Set your aim and get ready. On the count of three?” Pagiel quickly nodded, lines of tension all over his face as he tried to keep up with me magically. “One. Two ...” The air crackled with tension as I readied to unleash it all. “Three!”
Pagiel and I released the tree. It flew forward toward the Storm with insane speed. Not only that, it was backed by a lot of force. Maybe it wasn’t honed to arrow sharpness, but when something that big, that fast, and that forceful hits you, it does some damage. Especially when it’s aimed right for the chest.
Amazingly, we got the tree to pierce that tough hide. Pagiel’s hope had been that the tree would go straight through him, but we weren’t quite that good. Nonetheless, the tree lodged in the Storm’s chest and heart, which was more than enough to kill the beast. It gave another roar, though this was of a very different nature than before. This was a death knell. The monster took a few unsteady steps and then fell to the ground. It twitched a little and then moved no more.
“Cool,” said Jasmine.
“And now,” said Kiyo, who was human again, “we also know how to deal with any vampires that come along.”
Villagers began spilling out of the huts, hurrying to see the outcome of the monster that had been terrorizing them. I glanced over at Pagiel, who was visibly shaking. “You okay?” I asked.
He gave me a weak smile, but excitement glowed in his eyes. “Yes. I had no idea I could do that. I mean, I guess I didn’t do it. You were doing a lot more.”
“You weren’t too shabby,” I said. “You’ve got more strength than you know. Not sure I could’ve gotten it through him without you.” Pagiel beamed.
Beside him, Jasmine scowled. “They’re so ungrateful,” she said, pointing to the villagers. They had now completely encircled the fallen monster, their backs to us. “Not even a thank-you.”
“They’re too busy,” said Kiyo, squinting at them with his superior eyes.
“Doing what?” demanded Jasmine.
Kiyo grinned at her. “Butchering. That thing will feed them for weeks.”
Chapter 15
The more we traveled, the more we learned something. Extreme cold and starvation weren’t the only problems facing the Otherworld’s residents. This world was full of all sorts of nightmarish creatures, most of which stayed away from the more civilized kingdoms. Creatures that were adapted to snowy climates also tended to live in obscurity since monarchs preferred to maintain pleasant conditions in their kingdoms.
Now, that had all changed. Monsters that had lived in ice and snow had just conveniently had their territory expanded exponentially, thanks to Varia. They began creeping out of their haunts, plaguing the bedraggled gentry. With so much infrastructure lost, monarchs were unable to muster much resistance to help their people fend off these threats. The Storm was only the first of many snow-loving adversaries we faced. Ice demons, albino trolls, more abominable knock-offs ... the variety seemed endless the farther we traveled.
“Why haven’t we seen these kinds of monsters in our kingdoms since the blight started?” I asked Dorian one day. It was midafternoon, and we rode our horses side by side. He didn’t answer for a few seconds, and for the first time in a very long time, there was a weary—though not
“A couple reasons, I’d imagine,” he said at last. “One is a matter of logistics. These creatures tend to live on the outskirts of our world. It’s simply taken them time to discover the feast the blight has created for them, and then of course, they’d actually have to put in the time to spread out and make the journey. They may simply not have reached our lands yet.”
That was a disheartening answer, its severity driven home by his sober look. “What’s the other reason we haven’t seen them yet?”
“We were living in a state of war before this disaster struck. Our armies were built up, our lands regularly patrolled. Much of that has stayed in place, even though our forces have taken heavy hits from the blight. But other kingdoms? Like the Palm Land? They were living an idyllic, peaceful existence. Their armies were minimal, so they had less to work with when the blight fell—and next to nothing now that the monsters are coming out of hiding.”
“Will ours be enough?” I asked. “Will our forces be able to protect our people?”
He studied me for a few moments, and I got the impression he was debating whether to answer with truth or comfort. He opted for the former. “I don’t know. We’re in better shape than most, and it’s a rule of nature that predators prefer easy prey. I don’t wish harm on any of these lands, but they’re probably more appealing to snow monsters than lands that fight back.”
His point was proved by the fact that many of the creatures we encountered tried to back off once they discovered the kind of fight we could put up. The smart thing on our part would have been to let them run ... but we, foolish or not, often pursued and took them out. It was hard not to when we kept passing more devastated
