Chapter 43

Buddy wrapped himself around the two of them as they made their way to Viktor’s barn, clinging to them both like a skintight shroud, leaving only their eyes exposed. It made them practically invisible in the gloom. Good. We wouldn’t want to chance their being spotted. They had to move a carefully, since there was a thin, shadowy tether between them. It would ruin the whole scheme if one of them tripped tripped and drew Mulciber’s attention.

Could Mulciber even hear them at this range? Our Father Below knew; it seemed like the mutant was a chimera of different traits, and he had rather large, pointed ears. It was best to assume he had some assistance there until we knew otherwise.

We split up over both of their objections. The argued that I was wounded, I couldn’t cast most of my spells, and that I was being foolhardy. All valid points, but I knew something they couldn’t: Mulciber wasn’t going to kill me quickly if he got me in his talons. His desire for revenge actually made it safer for me than it would for Rafal. Mariko was out of the running; this whole plan relied on her, after all. That, and I couldn’t stand to put her in more danger than was necessary.

Then again, I wasn’t exactly encouraged by the idea that a vengeful mutant wouldn’t end me quickly if it came to that. Oh well. Time to go clean up your mess, Malthus.

I considered how best to get his attention without being too obvious. I found myself wishing I’d known Mulciber better before, so I could guess how he’d think. A glance from Mimic Sight showed he was done patching his wing, so I had to hurry.

He wasn’t a military devil back in the day, and he was brute forcing his way through the fight. That Whirling Flame spell was the most impressive magic he cast. He was a lab rat anyhow; I doubt he’s had any training in tactics. Devils are also impulsive when they’re enraged; he may not look a gift mackie in the mouth.

The gap between the barn where Rafal and Mariko were preparing the trap and Mulciber’s perch was great enough that he wouldn’t have a clear line of sight. I could only keep track of him with Mimic Sight. Girding my quavering stomach, I forced myself forward.

I came as close as I dared, just enough that I could just make Mulciber out by the moonlight and the still-glowing runes from his technology-jamming fabricata. He crouched on the roof in his Buddy-like pose as he devoured another unfortunate sheep. I was grateful that the dark night had obscured most of the gory details. If I craned my ears, I could make out the panicked bleating of the other animals stuck in their pens in the barn. It was like a wooly pantry in there for him, to give him the nutrients and magical energy to hear himself.

It was time to interrupt his meal. I held up my good hand and started chanting runes. “Ta ru ma da…” It was a meaningless set of magical code, but it sent glowing runes flying through the air as I chanted the gibberish.

His horned head snapped up as he tossed the half-eaten corpse. Two flaps of his repaired wings had him airborne, and the shower of residuum lit a savage grin on his jagged snout. He didn’t seem to have any trouble navigating in the dark. It made sense, since Buddy had been able to swim through the bay without issue.

I’d hoped to have more time to run, but he was fantastically quick on the wing. I stopped my chanting, drawing the wooden cane from my side. The runes flashed down the length of it as I gave the Bloody Lance some extra ‘oomph’, and a red bolt of energy flashed through the air.

Sadly, it missed Mulciber completely as he juked around it. It had been a good Bloody Lance, but only the barn suffered. I pierced the wall, freeing a few of the frantic sheep.

“Didn’t think you’d be showin’ up again, Malthus!” bellowed Mulciber as I clipped the cane back to my beltloop.

I took a step back, avoiding a rather half-hearted slash from his left hand. “A nobledevil isn’t late for appointments,” I replied, drawing the sword on my other hip.

“Not like yer lot to be brave,” he snapped. “You like to let us workin’ devils go in first, if there isn’t a goblin or orc to do it for ya!”

“Funny, I seem to recall one of us fought the rebels, and the other evacuated,” I snapped. “I don’t suppose you’d be up for a parlay?” I stepped backwards, using my sword the best I could to counter his slashes. I didn’t dare try to launch an attack; I was barely on balance with one arm strapped down. Even being purely on defense, I was doing far better than I’d expected. Too well; he could have already ended this with a Fireball. It looks like I was right about him drawing things out.

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.

If he wasn’t going to take me seriously, I’d use that to buy time and distance. Even if he was being lackadaisical, his enhanced blows hit like an orcish war hammer, and I could barely keep my grip on the sword.

“Almost doesn’t seem sporting, with your hands and ribs busted,” he said. His glowing white eyes narrowed. “Though ya aren’t moving like a man with broken ribs. Oh, that wizard with the big knockers must’ve patched you up.” He paused the assault to cock his head at me. “Then why didn’t she fix up yer hand?”

“You smashed it rather thoroughly,” I replied, coming to a stop. If I got too far away from him, he might decide to start flinging Fireballs, which would be worse than his physical attacks.

A razor-sharp grin split his mouth. “Really? Broke it so good that girl couldn’t stitch it back together again? I thought that felt like a good stomp.”

“Don’t sound so impressed,” I snapped, taking a step back, which me matched. “Human healing magic is rubbish.”

“Hope it hurt,” he replied. Faster than I could track, he lashed out, sending my sword flying. “I think I’m done playing with ya.”

I glanced over my shoulder; Viktor’s barn was a football field away. I’d have to be careful to draw him back there. Hopefully they others are out of there. “Are you sure? It looked like you were having fun.” I tensed my legs, ready to make a run for it.

“I was, but then I think to myself, ‘Malthus is a slimy bastard who lies as naturally as he breathes’. Ya sent me to Yatener’s lab without a second thought for nothing. No way yer being honorable; that’s the Enemy’s talk, and ya only look like a stupid human. There’s a trick.”

His arm snapped up. My Mimic gave me a moment’s warning about the fabricata brands flashing to life, turning the Fireball’s impact into a glancing blow to my back. The enchanted uniform drew on my magic to protect me, but I still slammed into the ground right on my bandaged hand.

Marshmallow cloud or no, it informed me that it did not care for that shabby treatment. Stars danced before my eyes again. Get up! Get up before…

“Magic Bolt!” An orb of blue light flashed above my head, shattering on Mulciber’s wing.

“Rafal?” I said, rolling into a sitting position.

“B-back off!” Kowalski’s stammering voice made up in volume what it lacked in conviction. His white uniform nearly shone in the reflected moonlight, as did the reflected sweat from his brow. “Get away from Magpie, you freak!”

“You’re supposed to be back at the barn!” I didn’t worry about Mulciber understanding; English wasn’t exactly a common second language for the lower class.

“I thought you were in trouble,” he said. “Gotta help my buddy, right? Er, my human buddy, I mean.”

“That’s touching, but we had a plan,” I hissed.

“Have to have a human fight for ya, Malthus?” Mulciber blocked another Magic Bolt with his wings. “Guess that’s almost as good as a goblin.”

I ignored the devil; it wouldn’t do to carry on a conversation in High Demonic right in front of Kowalski, after all. “Where’s—”

Before I could ask the obvious question, a shadowy form lashed out. Buddy was in a humanoid form, his arms ending in half-moon shaped blades. The first one skittered off Mulciber’s wing-shield with a spray of magic sparks, but the next gouged a chunk out of his cheek. Dark blood splattered against my cheek, reminding me I was more than a spectator.

Kowalski took advantage of the commotion to help me to my feet.

“I’ve never been so glad to see you,” I said.

“Same to you, man,” he replied distractedly. His attention was transfixed by the battle before us, and I couldn’t blame him.

“What in blazes? Another golem? Who made ya?” Mulciber lashed out at Buddy with a taloned hand, only for Buddy to flow under the strike. “Hell, what are ya made of?”

Buddy’s only response was to grow two more bladed arms and redouble the attack. The living affinity seemed to be enjoying himself; an unnatural grin nearly split his head in two.

I couldn’t be sure who was winning; black on black against the moonlit night wasn’t the best contrast. Switching to Mimic Sight for a moment illuminated the situation. Buddy was going at Mulciber like he had with the rotten stump, forming new bladed limbs and hacking away like a weed whacker. The demonic golem proved to be sterner stuff, though, and I could see little flashes along his skin as the wounds opened, only to close themselves. He’s more durable than I’d feared; those are rather shallow cuts, and Buddy’s hands are like axe heads! Buddy had the upper hand, though, as he opened up holes in his own body for Mulciber’s claws to pass through. If this kept up, the demon might run out of magic, blood, or both.

“Forget this! I’m not gonna let some puppet beat me!” Mulciber went airborne again, just out of the reach of Buddy’s blades. The runes along his arms glowed brilliantly and another Fireball flew out. Buddy’s body liquified and flowed away from the blast.

Kowalski cried out, falling to a knee. Psychic backlash? Buddy didn’t get away unscathed after all. “Spectral Web!” I didn’t expect the entangling spell to hit Mulciber, but it achieved my goal of drawing his attention away from the scorched Buddy.

Unfortunately, that focus went right to me. “Burn, Malthus!” A flick of his wrist and a flash from the fabricata brands launched another flaming orb at me. The basketball-sized spells were still overkill, but less so than before. He was conserving his energy, which was part of what saved me.

The other part was the Svalinn’s Mercy that popped into place right before me. The floating shield was driven backwards by the heavy impact of the overstuffed Fireball, smashing right into my nose.

“Son of a bitch!” I said, feeling a fresh trickle of blood flow down my face.

“Ara! I am sorry, Soren!”

I whirled around, seeing exactly the wizard I didn’t want to see. “What the devil are you doing here?”

Mariko flinched at my rebuke. “We let Viktor out, then I destroyed all of the straw and trash in there like you said.”

“Well done,” I said, unable to keep the pique out of my voice. “So helpful when you’re out of position! You should be hiding, Mariko!”

“You needed me here! You and Rafal were in trouble.”

“That’s hardly the…” No, there isn’t time. Never mind that this was exactly what I’d wanted to avoid. I tried to set aside the visions of Mulciber getting his claws on Mariko that danced through my mind. “I hope you have more of those shields ready!”

“Svalinn’s Mercy!” Good thing she chose to respond with action, as Mulciber had dove down at her without warning. His talons grazed across the barrier as he ascended again, vanishing into the starry night sky. I won’t repeat exactly what I heard Mulciber shriek as he went, but I doubted that Mariko’s parents were unmarried or goats.

Mariko let out a startled cry, and I was at her side in a moment. “Are you hurt?”

“N-no,” she replied, pointing over my shoulder. “Rafal, are you alright?”

“As much as I can be.” Kowalski stepped up beside us. “I can barely see him.” His voice was strong, but I noticed the side of his face was sunburnt, along with his left hand. Those were only the parts I could see; the way he winced, I was sure it was his whole side.

Kowalski was nowhere near that Fireball; that’s some connection he has with Buddy.

“Can Buddy reach him?” I asked.

Kowalski shook his head, pointing to where Buddy had gathered himself up again in a compact, catlike form. The shadowy golem was quaking, and his form seemed less solid than normal. “When Mol gets back to ground level, maybe, but he’s keeping his distance. Buddy spooked him good.”

My hand went to the fabricata cane at my belt, and I took comfort in its weight. It was the only spell that had seriously injured him, and the only thing he had bothered dodging. As long as I had it, we had a chance.

“We need to lure him back down to earth again.”

“Are you going to lead him back towards the barn?” asked Mariko.

“Unless you both can magically get back into position, that plan’s over!” I shouldn’t have been so cross, but my little Hail Mary was completely spoiled now.

“We could,” said Kowalski. “Buddy could cover us up again, if you’re going to draw him away. He’d never see us.”

Mulciber launched a smaller Fireball, which Mariko parried with a hasty defensive shield. His glowing white eyes narrowed, and he trembled with obvious frustration. He was probing our defenses. At least we’re all frustrated.

I tensed my legs, ready to go do something, ugh, heroic again. “Whatever you do, get away from me. I’ll draw him off.”

“What? That’s stupid, Magpie! Let me do it; I’ve got Buddy.” , and raced under the only cover in the pasture.

“Yes, Buddy and some nice second degree burns from a near miss! We need to be more strategic with him.”

“Strategy’s no good if you’re dead!” shouted Kowalski. “We need to use Buddy! He’s our best weapon!”

“I’m the one he wants. He’ll leave you two out of it.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mariko. “What sense does that—” She stopped to throw up another Svalinn’s Mercy, just in time to intercept another Fireball.

An inhuman screech filled the air as Mulciber’s fury boiled over.

“There’s no time!” I shoved Mariko into Kowalski’s arms. “You both hide!”

Before they could object, I darted towards the barn, and the trap that would hopefully end this whole business in one master stroke.