“Any idea what’s coming?” Tess asked as she raised the butt of her crossbow to her right shoulder.
“Not a clue. Powerless Wanderer, remember?”
“I remember. I just–”
She stopped suddenly as our guest made its appearance. Pines, nearly fifty feet tall, separated and one snapped off with another explosive sound as a monstrosity appeared at the edge of Cris’s yard. A moment later, two more appeared to either side of the first. They were massive creatures, mostly man-like in appearance, if men grew to more than forty feet in height. Their shoulders had to be more than twelve feet across. Arms, with biceps as thick as a horse’s belly, ended in hands that could wrap all the way around a car. Except these hands didn’t carry automobiles. They carried clubs that were shaped like baseball bats, if the ball was larger than a beach ball. All three were bearded, with brown and brown-gray beards that hung down to the top of some sort of gray animal hide that covered them from neck to knee. With a start, I realized that the hides were from elephants. Damn, you could still see the trunk of the elephants hide swinging between these creatures’ legs like some enormous penis.
Above all else, the one distinguishing feature was the single colossal eye centered above the creatures’ noses.
“Cyclops?” Tess asked.
“I think the proper term is Cyclopes, members of the Titans in Greek mythology. They’re as powerful as the gods,” I responded.
“Who the hell cares what the plural form is? What are they doing here?” Tess said with more volume than normal. Okay, maybe she was a little stressed that she was the only one with major fighting capabilities just now.
“I think why they’re here is obvious, the how is what has me concerned. No one was supposed to know we were here.”
“Can’t you worry about that later,” Cris asked. “They don’t look like they’re going to wait for you to ask questions.”
She was right. The three Cyclopes were knocking the last of the trees out of their way and making the ground shudder as they stomped toward us.
Bruno began growling and smoke streamed from his mouth. The little wyvern surprised me; he wasn’t trying to fly off or to hide behind Tess.
“Boss?” Tess asked.
“Drop your shield long enough to shoot the nearest and then put it back up,” I said, considering our other options. The handgun wasn’t going to be much use. It’d be like shooting a T-Rex. The bullet would probably not penetrate their skin. Hell, it probably wouldn’t penetrate their hide clothing.
In one smooth motion, Tess raised the crossbow’s stock to her cheek, sighted, and released the bolt.
There was less than one hundred feet for the bolt to cross, but that was enough time for the lead cyclops to see the danger. It put one massive hand up to protect its chest. The bolt struck the center of its palm and it bellowed it pain and anger. It dropped its club and clutched at its chest with its uninjured hand. The bolt had passed through the hand and embedded itself in the creature’s chest.
The cyclops clutched the feather shaft between finger and thumb and yanked it free.
Blood spurted from the wound in its chest, but the flow slowed immediately.
“Hell, it can do a healing spell,” I said.
Roaring, the cyclops threw the bolt to the ground and bent for its club.
Meanwhile, the other two Cyclopes had come close enough to use their clubs. The nearest of the two started a swing that would knock more than the cover off the ball.
“Don’t anchor your shield,” I said and immediately saw Tess shield separate from the ground.
A second later, the bat struck the globular shape of her shield.
Chapter 30
Raphael
The impact was enormous, even with the shield I felt that I might have to be checked for a concussion. Without an anchor, the shield rose as if it were a fly ball, with the three of us pinned to one side of it by the acceleration.
We rose fast, higher than the nearest trees and continued to rise, crossing over the creek and sailing on toward the distant lake.
“Holy cow!” Cris said.
“When did you become Hindi?” I asked as I watched the Cyclopes and Cris’s house dropping away behind us.
“What?” she asked, her voice confused.
“Never mind,” I said with a grin. “Well, that worked better than I hoped for.”
“What did? Did you mean for us to take off like a rocket?” Tess asked.
“More like a fly ball,” I said. “Yes, I figured they’d either try to pound us into the earth or if they struck your shield from the side we’d go flying. That’s why I told you not to anchor it. We are overmatched by the three of them and getting away is the far safer play.”
“And what would you have done if they’d decided to just pound us into the ground?” Tess asked.
“Well, then we’d switch to plan B,” I said. “Heads up, we’re coming down.”
“What’s plan B?” Cris asked.
I grinned again. “I was still working on it when it became unnecessary.”
We had passed our apogee and were descending on a ballistic trajectory that would drop us in the lake.
“Now what?” Cris asked.
In answer, I reached into my jacket and drew out the dog whistle at the end of its leather lanyard. I blew on it, two sharp blast.
