Authors: Game's End
Clumps of snow clung in rough spots of the gargoyle, but they fell off as Arken moved and took a single step. "I am called again?" he asked in a gravelly voice.
Delrael went forward to take charge. Enrod watched, flicking his gaze to the gargoyle then to Delrael, back and forth, trying to see everything at once.
"We need to ask your help, Arken. Do you remember us?"
The blocky stone head turned, but all expression was lost on the rough features. "Of course, traveler. But is Scartaris not destroyed? I could feel that when it happened. I was free."
Delrael nodded. "We need you to fight against the manticore who now leads his army."
"Manticore?" Arken said. His stiff stone wings pried open and then closed again with a crunching sound. "Ah! It will be good to fight him again. He destroyed me last time."
"Go out at night and wander among the creatures encamped around the ice fortress," Delrael said. "In the morning when the other monsters can see, you'll challenge Siryyk to single combat. We hope you can kill him."
After a moment, the gargoyle spoke. "The manticore has already defeated me once."
Enrod spoke up, clutching the scroll he had found in Sardun's vaults. "Then we will summon you again! And again!"
Arken swung his head from side to side in a stiff motion. "No, fashioning this body grows more difficult each time. When Scartaris forced me to return and serve him ― twice ― I lost much of my strength. You see ― " He held out one arm; the hand was just a blocky lump of stone without fingers. "I have done a poor job this time. It will get worse."
Enrod crumpled the scroll in his hand. "Kill Siryyk the first time."
The manticore strode out of his tent, slashing at the flaps with his claws. The burning sores on his face felt worse, continuing to burn from the venom Enrod had blasted at him.
Siryyk heard preparations among his troops, but he ignored them. He shook his maned head to clear away the last muddled nightmares, the backwash of fear and the Outsider David's loss of control.
The Game would end soon, one way or another.
Siryyk had to capture the Stones before the time came. He didn't know what he would do with them, but somehow their enormous magic could shield him. And if that didn't work, and they were all going to die anyway ― then Siryyk would use the Sitnaltan weapon to destroy everything, the Outsiders along with Gamearth.
The horde had trampled most of the snow and ice in the area, leaving only bare rocks and frozen footprints. General Korux watched as two Slac scooped snow into the boiler of the steam-engine car, making it ready. On its front seat sat the Sitnaltan weapon that Professor Verne had repaired. Other monsters wandered about, none of them knowing what to do. They were growing hungry, Siryyk knew. The human riders had ruined most of their supplies.
Three small goblins used pumice to scour off oxidation from the surface of Verne's cannon. Today, Siryyk decided, he would blast the ice walls down.
Out of a nearby group of demons, a bulky stone figure plodded forward. Siryyk turned toward him. A gargoyle ... he did not recall having seen this creature in his army before.
Then the manticore remembered him ― Arken, the gargoyle who had broken from Scartaris's control and attacked
him
instead. Siryyk had blasted him into shards of broken stone ―
"Siryyk, I bring you a message from Delrael," the gargoyle said.
Siryyk let out a rumbling roar, not knowing what Arken wanted. The other monsters stopped what they were doing and turned to watch. The manticore raised his scorpion tail, feeling the angry energy just behind the stinger. He wanted to destroy the messenger, but first he wanted to hear what Arken had to say.
"What is this message?" Siryyk said, rearing up to glare down at the blocky gargoyle.
In response, Arken bunched up one mammoth arm and put his entire body behind an enormous roundhouse punch, striking upward and cracking into Siryyk's jaw.
The manticore stumbled one step backward with an astonished grunt, swayed, then fell into a sitting position. He tried to clear the black explosions of pain from his head. The world spun.
He must have lost consciousness for a few seconds, plunged into distorted dreams of the Outside. Vaguely, he realized that the other monsters were firing arrows and throwing spears at the gargoyle. Some left little white nicks on the stone, but otherwise caused no damage.
Siryyk shook his head. Blood dribbled down the side of his black lips, and he could feel a splintering ache in his mouth. The instant his vision cleared, he spat out a roar mixed with flying droplets of blood He lurched to his feet again and, throwing all his energy into the attack, he struck out with his scorpion tail.
But Arken had already stepped out of the way. When the flying mud and dazzling light cleared, Siryyk turned, still dizzy, and faced the clumsy gargoyle again. Other monster fighters had gathered around to watch the duel.
Siryyk struck a second time, but the moment before his stinger touched the slow-moving gargoyle, Arken's stone arms and legs flowed back into a shapeless boulder. The manticore's tail exploded the rock into flying sharp shards.
Then Arken emerged from another boulder by his side, fashioning stone arms and legs and striding forward out of the rock. Before Siryyk could turn, Arken slammed his fist into the manticore's leonine body, cracking ribs.
Siryyk reared up, bringing both paws together in a hammering blow. He caught the gargoyle's two wings between them and snapped off the sheets of stone. He struck with the stinger once more, but again the gargoyle vanished from the rock. The manticore felt drained, propped up only by the anger and the pain in his body. He had already expended most of his power.
Behind him, Arken strode forward out of a new rock, but this time he seemed thicker, more clumsily formed. He moved much slower.
Siryyk turned to attack with his weakened stinger, and the gargoyle slid out of the boulder, escaping into yet another rock. The manticore's small bolt of power only splintered pieces of the stone surface.
Siryyk turned around and around, looking for the gargoyle to reappear. His head still screamed from the pain of the first punch from Arken's fist; his cracked ribs sent stabs through his chest. But he could not show weakness in front of the other monsters.
He found one boulder slowly moving. Its outline pushed and reformed into a vague silhouette of Arken. But the figure seemed only half-completed, and then it stopped all motion, looking like a statue that had weathered away over the centuries. Siryyk panted and stared, wondering what the gargoyle's trick was.
But nothing happened. The gargoyle did not move farther, all his energy expended. The monsters began to whisper; some cheered.
Siryyk strode forward, trying not to limp, and used his left paw to topple the petrified gargoyle. Arken broke in half among the other rocks.
Delrael stood atop the ice fortress, shading his eyes to make out the last details of Arken's duel. The gargoyle failed in the end.
Delrael clenched his fist, seeing the knuckles turn white in the cold. He looked around at the other towers, where the sentries observed in silence. The wind whipped around the blocky battlements where more characters watched the duel. He heard their indrawn mutterings of disappointment.
Enrod had not even stayed to watch Arken's contest. Instead, the Sentinel wandered through the ice fortress, speaking out loud to no one, stopping, and turning back the way he had come. He seemed to be debating with himself.
Arken's fight stirred up the monster horde, though. The Slac general stood beside the wounded manticore as the other creatures waved weapons and yelled curses at the ice walls.
One of the sentries on the opposite tower called out and pointed. Several characters on the battlements looked down, craning their necks to see.
Across the snow ran a single figure dressed in armor and carrying a sword. Faint words drifted back in the cold air as the character shouted a challenge at the monsters. "Will no one fight me in single combat?" The figure stopped some distance from the monsters, planted feet squarely in the snow, and held the sword high.
"What!" Delrael blinked his eyes in astonishment. "Who is that?"
The creatures shouted and rushed forward, clattering their weapons. The single human figure did not move from the battle stance.
"Who is that?" Delrael shouted again, turning around.
Romm scrambled up the tower stairs and stood out of breath. "It's Siya!" he said. He gulped in a breath. "She took a sword and some armor."
"What?" Delrael grabbed onto the balcony wall. "Siya!" he bellowed as loud as he could into the wind. She couldn't hear him. He whirled back at Romm. "What the hell is she doing?"
Reeling and angry, the manticore stormed forward to her. Siryyk snarled at the other monsters readying their arrows and spears. "The human is mine!"
Romm beat a fist against the ice wall. "We have to march now, Delrael! Get every fighter out there. We can save her."
But Delrael saw the monsters approaching her only seconds away. They could never even get down the stairs in time. "It won't do any good," he whispered.
Siya looked ridiculously puny in front of the enormous manticore. Her sword looked too small to cause damage even if Siryyk did nothing at all to defend himself.
"Delrael!" Romm cried. "We have to go now!"
Delrael whirled to snap at him. "It'll take at least half an hour to get our army out there. Think! She's going to die in the next few minutes!"
With a flurry of smoke and fire, Rognoth burst into the air from behind the ice fortress. The sunlight glinted off his silvery-blue scales; his wings swirled the snow as he swooped down over the monster army.
"Leave her alone!" the dragon shrilled.
Siya craned her head upward, pointing her sword in the air. Rognoth coughed out short bursts of fire, torching four of the nearest creatures. The backbeat of his wings demolished a pavilion set up on the packed ground.
The manticore reared back at his true enemy. Rognoth flew down, attempting to land in front of Siryyk, but instead he crashed full into the monster commander.
Siya stumbled backward, away from the battle between dragon and manticore. Delrael, thinking fast, shouted down to the other gathered fighters. "Send Ydaim Trailwalker and Tayron Tribeleader! They're our fastest runners! Go fetch Siya! Take her away from there."
Siryyk reached up with both powerful forepaws and wrapped them around Rognoth's neck. The curved lion's claws scraped on silver scales, sending up a shower of sparks.
Rognoth threw his weight forward, pushing his leverage. His wings flapped, driving him farther. His own forelegs were weak, but he spat fire onto the manticore's back and neck.
Siryyk twisted around to bring his scorpion tail up. Its end flickered with a skittering blue glow. The stinger struck and struck again into Rognoth's armored side. Weakened from the recent battle with Arken, the manticore could not summon much power. But each blow blasted a dark hole in the dragon's tarnished scales.
Delrael watched two khelebar streak out from the ice fortress walls, moving like reflections on the snow. Most of the monster army watched the titanic duel between Siryyk and the dragon, as did Siya.
"Why doesn't she run out of there?" Delrael muttered to himself. His jaw hurt from the angry clenching of his teeth.
Ydaim and Tayron dashed up to her and, without pausing, snatched Siya from the ground. She struggled, but Ydaim grabbed her sword and Tayron forced her onto Ydaim's back.
Rognoth hissed and craned his neck, snapping with sharp teeth at the manticore's back. Siryyk stung again with his tail but doing little serious damage.
General Korux took up a jagged-tipped spear and rushed forward to stab at the dragon's body. The scaled armor deflected the first blow, but when Korux recovered, he plunged the blade into one of the blackened wounds Siryyk had already made. The spear tip sank into an exposed area on Rognoth's flank.
The dragon yowled and belched a scattered ball of fire at Korux. The spear shaft snapped out of his hand, and the Slac general fled, taking part of the flames on his shoulder. He rolled in the snow to extinguish himself.
Rognoth bent down to snap at the spear shaft embedded in his side.
Siryyk shifted his grip with his claws and tore at the wide band of scarred skin on the dragon's throat, the patch where Gairoth's iron collar had long ago worn away all scales.
Rognoth squawked and choked, flapping his wings to get away. Siryyk dug his long claws into the unprotected flesh and sheared sideways, then he lunged forward and sank his own fangs into Rognoth's exposed throat.
Blood spurted, and the dragon no longer made any noise, just a long whistle of air hissing down the gurgling tunnel. The manticore reached deeper with his claws, tearing and roaring and stinging repeatedly with the scorpion tail.
The dragon's spine snapped from the inside.
Siryyk tossed the dragon's limp neck on the ground, smashing Rognoth's head into an exposed outcropping of rock. Stepping away from the carcass, the manticore roared his victory.
The other monsters picked up the cry.
Come to us.
Join us.
You are the last.
Enrod stood with his hands at his sides, deep in Sardun's vaults. The voices of the
dayid
spoke to him. He could see little light here, only a faint glow trickling through the thick ice. He had brought no torch with him this time; that would have shamed him in the company of his race.
You belong here.
Enrod had resisted this for centuries. He had watched Gamearth continue after the Transition, when only a few Sentinels remained. During the generations of the horrible Scouring, the Sentinels had assisted human characters in fighting off ogres and Slac; they helped the humans establish a stable society. As time passed, more of the Sentinels, seeing their work either finished or pointless, had annihilated themselves in a half-Transition that liberated their spirits and destroyed their bodies.