It was a sense of possibilities.
The Paija stood waiting for them. It was gigantic, bestially beautiful, profane beyond his imaginings, balancing on that single obscene leg like something spawned in a Tijuana freak show.
Its single leg was more like the trunk of an elephant. Boneless. flexible. It weaved from side to side like some kind of top-heavy cobra, beckoning them onward to death.
For a moment the tableau was complete, and still. Max faded back a little, watching the others, saw Frankish Oliver gripping his war club as if it connected him to the spirit image floating above his head.
The Paija sniffed at the air, her thick, bovine nose wrinkling as if scenting something distasteful.
She gripped her stalagmite club and screamed defiantly and smashed it down on the bridge. The span of rock danced savagely. Dust and rock rained from the invisible ceiling. Kevin fell to his knees and had to be helped up by Bowles. For a moment a twist of genuine fear crossed that freckled face. Then bravado won out, and he was strong and brave once again.
The Paija opened its mouth, her mouth, and grinned. Max had never seen so many broken edges in one place. It looked like a junkyard for dental cutlery. The teeth were set in at odd angles, rows and rows of them, like shark’s teeth.
The Paija attacked.
“Onward!” Snow Goose yelled, and like the fools they were, they charged.
And above them, so moved their ethereal doubles. With every step they took, the floating figures above them seemed to gain power. They shone more brightly. The Paija ceased her raving, examined them suspiciously, seemed to reconsider- Max saw Trianna’s spirit fly at the enormous creature like a fairy on speed, moving with such grace and agility that the breath froze in his throat. Quite simply, she was beautiful. The Paija swung at her with its improvised club, and she backpedaled, doing a kind of breast stroke in the air.
Max snuck a peek at the flesh-and-blood Trianna, who was transfixed, her lips slightly parted, eyes gleaming with excitement.
The Paija couldn’t seem to touch her. Now the other spirit forms flew in, and when they linked together, that aurora effect was magnified. A fluxing electric rainbow blossomed, and touched the Paija.
The creature screeched in pain and indignation that these tiny creatures would dare to harm it. Far from being slowed, it charged, swinging the club. The stalagmite smashed down just short of Snow Goose, who scrambled back and then caught her balance again. “Don’t run! Don’t run! It will feed on your fear!”
The Paija glared at them, the forest of black hair shadowing her face. Grunting, it took another step.
The ethereal figures fluttered above it, weaving in and out like a flock of glowing hummingbirds. The Paija swiped at them with the club, handling it like a flyswatter, and only the unnatural agility of the spirit forms kept them from Oops. The Paija made contact with Orson’s image, just a glancing blow, but Max’s brother said, “Ooof!” and rubbed at his shoulder, where a red glowing mark began to grow.
The Paija was beginning to catch the rhythm now. Charlene’s image caught a nasty wallop, and Charlene cried, “Wha’?” A red stain began to grow on one leg, glowing in the dark like some kind of phosphorescent fungus. The spirit creatures began to fade.
“Join hands!” Snow Goose grabbed Hebert and Hippogryph, panting as if with physical exertion.
Max reached out for Yarnall’s wrist. Yarnall joined with Kevin. The twelve Adventurers formed a semicircle facing the beast.
The creature snarled, sensing victory. The club smashed again on the bridge. The Paija dropped the entire force of its being into the blow. An eight-foot section of rock gave way, splintering and crumbling with a roar like the end of worlds. Max stutterstepped, struggling for balance.
Snow Goose remained erect, but her face was no longer so strong and determined. She stared down into the gulf before them, the chunks of rock spinning in crazy slow motion into infinity, and she was no longer sure.
The Paija grinned at them and leapt over the gap. Her suction-cup foot gripped the bridge, leaving a moist ring where it landed. She hopped forward.
Max saw Snow Goose crumbling, and he forced himself to his feet. Dammit, he had to do something, and he had to do it now. Tag-team!
In a pro wrestling match the audience would see you screaming obscenities, but they couldn’t hear. It didn’t matter what you said. Max stood as tall as he could and he screamed up at the Paija. “Monsterrr! We challenge you! We’re gonna rip your lips off and make you kiss your own backside!”
Not particularly inspired, but it got her attention. She smiled a smile that said, me and you, numbnuts in a universal language. He hefted his spear and pointed it, waiting for magic.
Nothing.
I’m dead, he thought.
But the ethereal double was more substantial now, brighter: he could no longer see through it. It was true! The Paija fed on their fear, and their doubles fed on their courage. He put on his best drill sergeant’s voice. “Get up, you slackers! Face this thing off!”
The Paija growled at them, as if undecided, and then Max saw his double launch its spirit spear directly between the Paija’s eyes. The monster screamed, reared back, and clasped its wound. The club rose up, and thundered down again directly at Max.
Here goes nothing. Max gritted his teeth and kept the spear upraised. The club landed to the side, deflected by his spear thrust.
The monster was horribly confused now, and in pain. The other Adventurers joined him, joined hands, screamed in concert. They backed the Paija up a short hop, and when they gestured aggressively, their doubles attacked.
It was playing possum. It sprang back to life, and caught Hippogryph’s double a good lick. Hippogryph yelped and grabbed his shoulder, which began to glow red. Charlene’s double, trying to swoop in close for a shot at its eyes, caught a grazing blow and went spiraling off to the side, almost slamming into a stalagmite before it could catch itself. Charlene’s entire right side went red.
But slowly, surely, the Paija was driven back. They cheered, and they screamed, and Max said, “What the hell!” and hurled his spear. It caught the creature in the throat. The Paija staggered backward a hop, teetered for balance, and fell from the bridge. Howling, it tumbled blindly into the blackness.
They all moved to the edge to see it fall, watch it die. Max’s double landed in front of him, beautiful, lean, and muscular glowing in that darkness within the earth, and it smiled.
Hell. He was a hero!
Chapter Seventeen
Slightly blue-faced, Gwen exhaled with relief. For a few seconds, the wail of the wind and the Paija’s receding death-howl were the only sounds. Then the Gamers behind her were leaping and screeching and clapping each other on the back.
Gwen watched Hippogryph with some amusement. Hippogryph screeched and Hippogryph leapt; but his face didn’t turn toward the sky in triumph; his eyes remained at the level; his big bouncing body formed an unobtrusive barrier between the others and Charlene. Just as well. Her legs looked a little unsteady.
The darkness helped… but Gwen could never quite believe that the holograms would mask her and Ollie well enough to produce the illusion of flight. But everything had gone perfectly. Now the Gamers crowded at the lip of the precipice, watching the Paija’s image fall to its death. She saw their faces; every damned one of them had been moved by the sight of his spirit image. They stood straighter, walked prouder.
Gwen knew the gimmicks hidden in the Game, and still she felt the effect. She took the time to square herself, then dove headfirst into her “Snow Goose” routine again.
“All right, team! Way to go!”
“That was great!” Orson was vibrating where he stood, his considerable mass jiggling and wiggling with delight. “I feel ready for anything!”
