Chasing the Prophecy

“Don’t draw conclusions yet,” Farfalee cautioned, setting an arrow to the string of her bow.

Jason’s launch wobbled on the swells, holding steady as Aram’s launch powered toward the shore. The Maumet made no move as the launch neared the beach. The craft rasped onto the sand, and the people inside piled out, weapons held high as they splashed away from the shallows. One strapping drinling remained beside the launch, ready for a quick getaway.

Aram, Jasher, Ux, Zoo, and three other drinlings fanned out and approached the Maumet in a loose arc. Jasher drew the torivorian sword he had borrowed from Corinne. The wooden figure seemed inanimate, more like a driftwood scarecrow than a fearsome enemy. The stillness was unnerving, because they had all seen it moving. Raising a fist, Aram signaled for his squad to halt.

With the squad in a loose semicircle before the Maumet, Jason could see that it stood at least ten feet high, making Aram look like the tallest of a group of children. Farfalee pulled an arrow to her cheek. Jason gripped the gunwale.

Aram had brought a pair of orantium spheres. Hefting one of them, he flung it at the stationary Maumet. His aim was good, but the wooden figure dodged the globe, and it landed on the sand without bursting. Farfalee released her arrow, which struck the wooden creature in the chest and remained there. Showing no discomfort from the arrow, the Maumet rushed Aram. Drinlings closed from either side to help their captain face the creature.

The Maumet was quick. A leg lashed out and struck Aram squarely in the chest, sending him tumbling across the sand, ring mail jangling, his sword still in hand. A drinling soldier whacked the Maumet in the hip with an ax before getting clubbed in the head by a wooden forearm. Batting away the sword of another drinling, the Maumet kicked the warrior in the side, the blow simultaneously folding him over and sending him flying.

Jasher, Ux, and Zoo had been on the far side of the semicircle from Aram, and they rushed the Maumet from behind. Ux crunched his mace against the creature’s thigh, noisily splitting the wood. Zoo dove low, attacking an ankle with a pair of hatchets. The Maumet spun and swung a vicious backhand. With a beautifully timed swing of his sword, Jasher hacked the wooden hand off at the wrist. The severed hand turned to dust in the air.

Shaking free from Zoo, the Maumet hobbled away. A new hand promptly formed, and the cracks and gouges on the leg closed.

“Did it lose a little size to replace the hand?” Farfalee said, peering through a spyglass. “When the hand was severed, I think that mass was lost.”

“So it adjusted,” Drake said. “Reformed the hand with material from elsewhere.”

“Will we have to destroy it one hand at a time?” Jason asked.

“I hope not,” Farfalee murmured. “It’s quick and strong.”

Another drinling charged the Maumet. The creature caught his war hammer by the haft just below the head and punched him in the face with its free hand. Instantly the Maumet turned a glossy white. The fallen drinling scrambled to his feet, wiping his sleeve against his face. Clutching the captured war hammer, the Maumet backed away so that all the combatants were in front of it, then held still.

Aram had risen, as had the drinling who’d gotten clubbed on the head. The drinling who had received the kick in the side lay motionless on the white sand.

“Did it change to sand?” Drake asked.

“I don’t think so,” Farfalee said. “Right color, wrong texture.”

“Tooth enamel,” Jason realized.

“The Maumet hit Kay in the mouth right when it transformed,” Drake said.

“Tooth enamel!” Farfalee cried, in case those on the beach had not realized.

Aram threw his other orantium sphere. The Maumet flung the war hammer. The two objects collided in midair. Though at least ten yards away, the brilliant explosion knocked down Aram and a drinling.

The Maumet charged at those still standing. The drinlings and Jasher fell back and spread out, those at the sides trying to curl around and get behind the attacker. Aram staggered back to his feet as well, racing toward the combat. An arrow from Farfalee glanced off the Maumet’s shoulder, chipping it.

The enamel figure kicked Zoo aside and used two hands to snap Kay’s neck. Mace ready, Ux came in low and bashed the Maumet in the shin, shattering the bottom of the leg. The foot and lower shin all turned to dust, leaving behind a jagged stump. The Maumet plunged the spiky stump into Ux, who gurgled and twitched.

Jasher leaped from behind, swinging the torivorian sword in a vicious two-handed stroke. The instant the blade hit the Maumet at the waist, the creature turned a gleaming metallic color. Jason had hoped to witness a crippling blow, but he realized in horror that the Maumet had become torivorian steel.

An ax-wielding drinling whacked the creature in the thigh with a resounding clang. The ax fell from his hands, the bit notched. An arrow from Farfalee pinged off the Maumet’s head. A hatchet thrown by Zoo clinked against the chest. None of the blows had scratched the reflective surface.

The lower leg and foot grew back, reducing the Maumet’s stature a small degree, and then the creature snatched the nearest drinling and tore him in half. The Maumet now moved more jerkily, metal body shrieking as if resisting the motion. But it wasn’t dramatically slower than before.

“Fall back!” Aram cried.

Four drinlings were now down. Only Jasher, Zoo, Aram, and the drinling beside the boat remained standing. While Zoo and Aram ran for the boat, Jasher dashed away from the water and retrieved the undetonated orantium globe from the sand. The Maumet pursued Aram and Zoo. The drinling by the launch heaved the craft into the water. Aram and Zoo splashed into the shallows.

The Maumet stopped at the edge of the water. Jasher hit it from behind with the orantium sphere. The explosion flashed, but the Maumet was indifferent. It turned to chase Jasher. The seedman raced across the sand, parallel to the waterline. Joints screeching, the Maumet tried to keep pace, but even with much longer legs, it could not quite pump them fast enough. Jasher pulled ahead and cut across to the water, sprinting through the shallows, then diving forward and swimming.

Aram helped the burly drinling who had stayed with the launch row over to Jasher, who climbed inside, sword in hand. The Maumet paced back and forth at the edge of the water, metal feet sinking deep into the damp white sand with each stride, joints squealing like tortured dolphins.

Jason finally relaxed a degree. Toward the end of the skirmish he had thought Jasher would die again for sure, and he’d worried about whether the Maumet would care about crushing an amar. On the white beach four drinlings lay where they had fallen.