Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) (17 page)

 

“Again,” Justan said. “Is there any
wa-
.”

 

“No! Let’s get going, we’ve talked enough.” He clapped his hands together. “Time for action.”

 

“Very well,” Qyxal said, and cast the sleeping spell he had been preparing.

 

The giant’s eyelids drooped a bit, but then he shook it off and laughed. With his mage sight, Justan could see the spell fall apart as if it had been cut by unseen scissors.

 

“En elf mage, eh? Haven’t met one of those before. Sorry, magic doesn’t work on me here, but just in case . . .” The giant bent and picked up a boulder. “I have a cure for wizards right here!”

 

“Wait!” Justan shouted. He had the bowstring pulled back until the power was humming in his ear. Ma’am was eager to strike. “You start throwing boulders and I end this right now with a hole in your head.”

 

“With what? Arrows can’t hurt-.”

 

Justan released his shot. With a flash, the boulder in Charz’s hand exploded into powder and tiny shards.

 

“Ow!” Charz said, shaking his rocky hand. His eyes narrowed in anger and he studied the bow. “Okay, we add a rule. No boulders, but you can’t use that bow either.”

 

“Agreed,” Justan said and handed Ma’am to the elf. “Qyxal, it looks like you are going to have to stay out of this one.”

 

“But that’s our most powerful weapon,” Qyxal protested.

 

“We don’t have much choice. Charz! Can I make one more request before our mage leaves?”

 

“Another request? What?” The giant frowned.

 

“What’re you doin, boy?” Lenny asked. He had Bertha unwrapped and ready to go.

 

“Can he heal the two men over here that are still alive?” Justan had hoped to try and help them after the fight, but now he didn’t know how long it was going to take. He held up his hands. “Now I don’t want them to try and help, I just want to get them out of the way.”

 

Charz looked at Justan like he was a strange puzzle. “I don’t know, they jumped me while I was taking a nap . . . Fine, whatever, just make it quick. I’m ready for this fight to start.”

 

Qyxal walked over to the two men and knelt down. He ran his hands over the first man, a rotund balding man with a large beard. After a moment, the man gasped and sat up. He saw the giant and the rest of Justan’s party and leapt to his feet, then stumbled and fell back down again.

 

“Careful, man. You had some bad injuries. It will be a while before you can just run away,” Qyxal said. He began examining the other man, a shirtless muscle-bound individual covered in tattoos. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Justan could see Qyxal’s woven elements enter the man. The elf’s spells were always heavily blackened with earth magic. “Your friend, on the other hand, won’t be walking out of here by himself. I have . . . one second here . . . there! I stopped the bleeding inside him, but I can’t heal him completely. Sorry, I’m just not that good of a healer. You will need to drag him away yourself and find some help for him. Maybe a healer back in the town? Got it?”

 

The rotund man nodded and slowly got back to his feet again. He was sweating profusely. He tried to pull the man away, but looked as if he might pass out.

 

“Hey!” the giant said. “I’m not waiting any longer. Let’s go already!”

 

“Qyxal, go ahead and help the man get his friend to the forest. Just stay ready in case we need you when this is over.” Justan drew his swords and nodded. “Okay. Lenny, here’s the plan. You-,”

 

The dwarf was already running at the giant, his hammer Bertha swung back at the ready. Gwyrtha ran with him. Justan and Fist had to catch up. Justan knew that this was not a good start.

 

Charz took a step towards the dwarf and kicked, but Lenny dodged to the side. At the same time, Gwyrtha leapt, digging her claws into the giant’s rocky skin and sending him stumbling to the side under her weight. Charz laughed the way a man would if his dog jumped up on him when he got home. Gwyrtha snapped at his face. He grabbed her by the throat and shook a finger at her.

 

“Uh-uh. Bad horse!”

 

Justan arrived, but couldn’t find a way to get in close to the giant without being in the way of the others. Fist ran around the other side of the giant while Lenny swung Bertha into the giant’s leg. The blow sent chips of rock flying and Bertha’s magic superheated the strike. A gout of flame erupted from the wound, causing Charz to yelp in surprise.

 

The giant released Gwyrtha’s throat and grabbed her two front legs, prying them away from his chest. Fist slammed his mace into the giant’s lower back and Lenny hit his leg again. Charz yelped again with the impacts. “Hey!” He twisted and swung Gwyrtha by her front legs, her heavy body sent Lenny flailing into the nearest boulder before the giant released her into Fist. The two heavy beasts fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs as the giant laughed.

 

Justan saw a bleeding spiderweb of cracks in the giant’s back where Fist’s mace had struck the giant. Remembering the battle with Rudfen in Ewzad’s dungeon, he darted forward and thrust his right sword into the wound. The blade only sank in two inches before binding in the rock. As the giant growled in pain, Justan could see the cracks knitting back together. The wound was rapidly healing.

 

“Don’t think I forgot about you, Sir Edge,” Charz said and reached back for him.

 

Justan tugged quickly, but the sword wouldn’t come out. He was forced to let go and leap out of the way. He watched in horror as the giant’s hand gripped the blade and twisted. With a crack, Justan’s brand new sword snapped in two.

 

“That was a gift!” Justan swung his remaining sword at the giant’s knee with all his might. In a testament to the quality of the workmanship, the blade did not break, but chipped a chunk of rock free.

 

Charz’s left hand darted in so quickly that Justan did not have time to dodge. The giant caught him by the arm. Justan felt a surge of anger through the bond and saw Gwyrtha leap at the giant’s back. Using her momentum against her, the giant reached up with his right arm, grabbed her by the mane and threw her over his shoulder.

 

At the same time, Lenny swung his hammer again, this time aiming for the shard of sword still protruding from the giant’s now mostly healed back. Charz swung around and the blow just missed. Charz’s foot didn’t. It caught Lenny in the stomach. The dwarf soared several feet through the air. The giant’s movement wrenched Justan’s arm and he felt something pop in his shoulder. He cried out in pain as Fist roared in, mace raised high.

 

Charz saw the ogre coming in and twisted around, grabbing the weapon as Fist brought it down. He ripped it free of the ogre’s grasp and followed that up with a vicious backhand that caught Fist across the jaw, sending him sprawling. Gwyrtha was back on her feet and coming in again, but Charz dangled Justan in front of her, causing her to lurch to a halt. He took the opportunity to raise his foot and stomped on Fist’s mace, breaking the head free and sending it rolling across the ground.

 

By this time, Justan was sure that his arm was dislocated at the shoulder. Every movement the giant made sent pain shooting down his arm. The giant lifted Justan up to his eye level and laughed.

 

“Hah! Great named warrior, eh? Are you sure that rune isn’t just painted o-hnchk!”

 

Charz’s speech was cut short as Justan thrust his remaining sword into the giant’s open mouth. The blade lodged in the back of his jaw, tearing tender flesh before stopping against rocky bone. The giant bit down on the blade and tossed Justan aside in frustration. Justan landed on his shoulder with a scream of agony. Charz grimaced and yanked the blade free from his mouth, before gripping the end with his other hand, and bringing it down over his knee. The fine steel sword broke in half.

 

“Close one, that,” Charz said, blood flowing down his chin. He hacked and spat more blood onto the ground. “An inch further and you might have done some real damage. Maybe your name isn’t fake, Sir E-”

 

Lenny’s hammer struck the small of the giant’s back, again just missing the blade piece. The giant hissed in pain and turned on the dwarf, Lenny tried to run, but the giant was too fast.

 

Justan struggled to stand and watched the giant knock Lenny down and grab his legs. Fist was back on his feet, but before he could help, Charz began to swing Lenny around.

 

“Stop!” Justan shouted.

 

“Or what?” the giant laughed and spun. “Ready dwarf? This time I’m going for distance!”

 

Lenny shouted an unintelligible string of curses as the giant spun and picked up speed. Then, with a large step, the giant leaned forward and released his momentum in a powerful throw that sent Lenny hurtling through the air. The arc of his flight was much higher than the man they had seen the giant throw earlier.

 

“Lenny!” Justan couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. He was in such a state of disbelief that he barely felt Gwyrtha’s teeth grip his collar. She pulled him away from the giant as fast as she could while limping on one hurt leg. Fist caught up to them and threw Justan over his shoulder, before running for the woods.

 

“Hah! Run away, then! No one beats me!” the giant shouted, blood still running from his mouth. They could hear his victory yells echoing after them long after they fled into the trees.

 
Chapter Eleven
 

 

 

It didn’t take Qyxal long to catch up to them. Fist and Gwyrtha had stopped as soon as it was evident that the giant wasn’t going to bother chasing them. They lay on the cold wet forest floor gasping. Squirrel, who had been riding on the elf’s shoulder, leapt onto Fist and ran all over him, chattering in concern. Fist groaned in response, holding one hand to his jaw.

 

Qyxal ran to Justan first. “I can’t believe what I just saw. For a second there I thought one of you was going to get killed for sure. I’m going to need some help with that shoulder. Fist, can you come over here?”

 

While the elf continued to talk, giving Fist instructions, Justan lay there stunned, going over the fight again and again in his mind. What could they have done differently to win? Did the giant even have a weakness?

 

His thoughts were interrupted as Fist grabbed his injured shoulder. The ogre had to try a few different times under the elf’s guidance before it popped back in. Justan nearly passed out.

 

Sorry
, Fist said to him through the bond. The ogre was in a lot of pain as well.

 

“It’s okay, Fist. Thank you for helping. Qyxal, help Fist. I think his jaw is broken.”

 

“I know. Give me a second. He’s next.”

 

The elf grasped Justan’s arm. As he felt the healing energies entering his body, he closed his eyes and looked inward with his mage sight. Justan could see the black threads circling his shoulder. He watched as the elf sent out tiny threads of the other three elements, reattaching each torn ligament and repairing each damaged blood vessel. The elf’s low levels of strength in the other elements made the work a bit crude, but it was effective. The magic then flowed further down his arm, repairing a sprained wrist that Justan hadn’t even known was there.

 

When the elf was finished, he moved on to the ogre. Out of curiosity Justan closed his eyes and sent his senses through the bond, focusing on Fist’s energy this time. His vision shifted to the inside of Fist’s body and he watched what Qyxal was doing with his mage sight.

 

Fist’s jaw was indeed broken, in several places in fact. As he watched Qyxal knitting the bones back together, Justan once again cursed his lack of offensive magic. If only he could use his magic to heal, he would at least be useful.

 

He left Fist and sent his senses into Gwyrtha. Once he could see within her, Justan was startled by the intensity of the magic that made up her body. There were traces of every element scattered through each individual cell. The way she was made up seemed so unstable, he couldn’t understand how she stayed together. No wonder the wizards were all so eager to study her.

 

Hello?
She seemed to want to know what he was doing.

 

Just checking you out, sweetheart. Making sure you are okay,
he replied.

 

“Qyxal, Gwyrtha is bruised up, but her main issue is in her right hind leg. There is a . . . I can’t tell . . . something, torn in one of her joints.”

 

“You can see that?” Qyxal said. From the sound of his voice, he must have finished with Fist and was moving over to her. “You aren’t even looking at her.”

 

“I can see it through the bond,” Justan explained, but he kept his eyes closed.

 

Something interesting was going on. Her body was responding to his presence. Some of the magic within her was reaching out towards his own. Justan realized that whatever part of him was looking within her was a bundle of magic itself. He opened his eyes and for a brief moment he was sure that he saw a trail of energy linking his body to hers. It wasn’t the color of any of the elements, though. It was white. Just as quickly as he had seen it, the link dissipated. The trail was gone.

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