Chasing the Prophecy

The Wanderer’s tongue shot out from his mouth and coiled around Jasher’s neck. Jasher slashed through it, and the severed portion disintegrated, but the seedman was late blocking the next thrust, and the Wanderer impaled him.

Dropping to his knees, Jasher cut off the Wanderer’s legs at the thighs. The Wanderer thumped to the ground and lunged into the river. He did not surface. Del and Nia looked around intently, swords poised.

Still transfixed by the sword, eyes full of pain and frustration, Jasher looked back at Jason. “The amar can be resilient. We can’t know the extent of the damage. Plant her immediately. I . . . I still have—”

His sentence was interrupted when his amar dislodged, bouncing off the island and into the water. Jasher slumped lifelessly.

Upstream from everyone, the Wanderer arose from the river. Heg’s clothes were gone. His head looked like Groddic, but he was notably shorter. A flexible black shell covered his body like armor. He held no weapon.

Corinne leaped into the water and grabbed Jasher’s amar before it could float away. His transformation complete, Aram dashed along the island toward the Wanderer, his enormous sword in hand, his armor jingling.

Rushing upstream, Del reached the Wanderer first. The drinling hacked at his chest, but the black armor withstood the blow. Clamping an arm against his side, the Wanderer trapped the blade; then spikes sprouted on his free fist, and he killed Del with a punch to the head. The Wanderer kept the captured sword.

Nia fell back, sloshing noisily. “That shell is tough!” she warned everyone.

“Titan crab,” the Wanderer said bemusedly. “I often reinforce my bones with the remarkable substance. The shell of the titan crab is the most durable biological material I have encountered. I’ll use excessive quantities of it inside of me to disguise my mass when I wish to appear smaller.”

“Are you doing that now?” Aram thundered. He waited at the end of the island. “You’re looking tinier.”

“Jasher robbed me of some mass,” the Wanderer agreed. “And it cost me some size to armor myself like this. Come test your sword against me, half man.”

“I think I’ll keep the high ground,” Aram replied.

“I’m between you and your destination,” the Wanderer replied. “I am in no hurry. Much like Heg, I require no sleep.”

Nia fell back to behind Aram and climbed onto the island. She retrieved Jasher’s torivorian sword.

“We have time as well,” Aram said. “I’ll not be baited.”

The Wanderer laughed. “Three of you have already perished. I could slay the rest of you a thousand ways.” He dropped beneath the water.

“To me,” Aram said.

Swords ready, Jason and Corinne dashed forward to stand beside Nia and the half giant. “I have orantium,” Jason said.

“Don’t use it too close to us,” Aram said. “Jasher had a globe too. Might be worth retrieving.” He crouched and slid Farfalee’s torivorian sword from its sheath. “When the shape-shifter surfaces, fall back and let me deal with him. I won’t let him win.”

Kneeling and scrabbling, Corinne searched for Jasher’s sphere. Jason scanned the surface of the river.

The Wanderer burst from the water and landed at the other end of the island. For a moment he had gill slits at his neck, but they were abruptly covered by the glossy black carapace. He still held Del’s sword.

Jason flung the orantium sphere low, at his feet. The Wanderer dove forward and caught it in an enlarged, softened hand. Rising to his knees, his hand returning to its normal size, the Wanderer threw the globe back at them.

Dropping his swords, Aram flung Corinne and Jason into the river. Nia dove forward, smothering the globe with her body as it struck the rocky ground.

Jason missed seeing the explosion. He heard it from under the water. When he surfaced, Nia was gone, and Aram lay at the edge of the island, one leg in the river, the side of his face blackened and caked with blood. The Wanderer charged him.

Jason heaved himself from the water. If the Wanderer killed Aram while the half giant was down, they were all dead. Jason got to his feet and gripped his sword as the Wanderer approached at full speed, eyes enraged. Jason had never felt more intimidated, but he stood his ground.

The Wanderer’s sword swept toward him. Leaning forward, Jason met the blade with a strong blow from his own. Despite the Wanderer’s sprint and the strength of his swing, he came to a skidding halt as his sword was knocked back by the impact. For a moment the Wanderer was unprotected. Advancing, Jason issued a quick counterstroke, narrowly missing but forcing the Wanderer to retreat a pace.

Their swords began to clash fiercely. Jason was mildly surprised to not be immediately cut down. He was mostly on the defensive, slowly giving ground, but he managed to sneak in a few attack strokes. Without the torivorian sword, Jason doubted he could have resisted the heavy blows or swung quickly enough to match the Wanderer’s speed. Each slash he survived increased his confidence.

The combat felt different from how he had expected. There was no time to feel nervous. He knew he was fighting for his life, and to protect Aram and Corinne, but all he could focus on was blocking the next blow and watching for chances to attack. There was no time to plan or to give conscious thought to form or footwork. There was barely time to react, and occasionally a narrow opening to strike.

As the fight progressed, Jason felt less and less like he was holding his own. His wrists and elbows began to ache. The Wanderer was so quick and used moves and feints Jason had never encountered. Jason improvised defensive blows and dodged as best he could, but he began to feel sloppy, like he had lost his balance and was about to fall.

Then Corinne attacked Groddic from behind. The shelled warrior turned to confront her, allowing Jason a moment to recover. Her blade kept him busy.

Jason saw the Wanderer staring at him with a large pair of golden eyes on the back of his head. For the moment his rear was unguarded. And clearly Corinne needed help. Jason lunged forward as a tail sprouted from the center of the Wanderer’s back. Just before the tip of Jason’s sword could reach the Wanderer, the heavy bulge at the end of the tail slammed into Jason’s shoulder like a mace, sending him splashing into the river.

Jason surfaced in time to see the Wanderer thump Corinne with his tail while he had her occupied with his sword. She tumbled into the water as well. Teeth bared, the Wanderer wheeled on Aram.

Crawling forward shakily, Aram grabbed Farfalee’s torivorian sword, as well as the torivorian sword Nia had dropped. With one side of his leather cloak charred and tattered, the half giant rose unsteadily to meet the attack.