Episode 71

We like to think that places don’t change

Mountains are fixed and valleys stay the same

So the towns that we love can be left with their culture

Frozen in time like a painting or sculpture

But mountains do move on magma plates

Valleys are carved at glacial pace

And so do towns change in their way

Moulded by them that leave and those who come to stay

Lilian was expecting to feel rage. She was expecting to feel that familiar feeling of anger bubble up from her belly and exit through her mouth in a furious shout. Perhaps it was the calming effects of the star tea but when she saw Brother Thomas standing beside Sage Fenric having brought little Emma directly to him so that he could use her as some kind of bargaining chip, Lilian felt little else but sadness and disappointment.

“I’m sorry Lilian,” Brother Thomas repeated, “We need to protect Benlunar and…” He fumbled through the next few words, something about a deal with Sage Fenric, a promise based on little more than the word of a liar. Lilian did not care to listen. Instead she looked at Emma. She had red streaks down her cheeks but at that moment she was not crying. She was looking down at the floor and occasionally struggling against Sage Fenric’s grip on her right arm. His beaten metal sword was close to her neck. Lilian saw something strange on its handle, like black roots that looked as though they moved.

“Give it up Miss Lausanne,” Sage Fenric drew her attention away from his blade, “Promise to end this rampage right now and this little one will be safe. In fact, I swear not to harm a single citizen. Not even yourself.”

Lilian looked at him and felt her jaw tighten, “and what about Tauroc? Hm? Has he made that promise as well?” As if on cue a thunderous boom echoed through the trees, shaking the leaves and sending groups of little winter birds flying into the sky in shock.

Sage Fenric smiled, “So you know of Tauroc? You have been busy. I’m afraid I cannot make promises on behalf of the demon king. But I’m sure when he hears about our agreement he will be… amenable.”

Lilian felt her nails beginning to dig into her palms. She wanted to pick up a clump of snow or a rock and hurl it at Fenric’s smug face. But she knew how serious and how dangerous he was. One false move, and Emma would be the one suffering for Lilian’s mistakes. There was no recourse. Lilian breathed in deeply and was about to release the gloaming power from her body and change back to her normal, human self, when something stopped her. There was movement in the scene in front of her. She dared not stare directly at it, lest she draw Sage Fenric’s attention, but she could swear that little Emma was moving her hands in a way that suggested more than just nervous fidgeting. Lilian needed more time.

“So that was your plan all along was it?” she shouted, trying to stall Fenric for time, “lull everyone into thinking you’re some harbinger of paradise and then destroy them when they’re fat with lies?”

“My child,” Sage Fenric took the bait and began to speak while Lilian read Emma’s signs, “my plans stretch far beyond this pitiful place you call home. You think this is my first time coming up against a have-a-go hero in my efforts? I’ve been at this for years and they all fall in the end.” Lilian could only afford to look down at Emma for a few moments at a time, but she read the words, ‘bite’ and ‘ready’ when she did. “But I’m big enough to acknowledge when I’m beaten, you leave us alone and we will be on our way. On to the next town. Tauroc will be frustrated but he’ll live. It is rare that we have to call on him in the first place. Most towns just ruin themselves.” Although Lilan was focused on what Emma was trying to say, she was present enough to understand that even if Sage Fenric was telling the truth, which she was sure he was not, that she would have to stop him anyway, as he would simply continue on this path. He would bring more and more communities down into misery or worse. By now she had understood most of what Emma was saying, she was repeating the phrase over and over, ‘I’m going to bite him, be ready’. As soon as she understood the phrase, Lilian signed the word for wait and then began to walk forwards slowly.

“Very well,” she said, removing her wrist bracer, “I’ll stop, but please, before you go, just tell me… why do you do this? What are you gaining from this life?”

Lilian was closer now, she could see the whites of Fenric’s eyes and the creases on his face when he smiled. She was looking for signs of relaxation, signs of trust, when she saw it, she would give the signal. “Miss Lausanne,” he continued, “mine is a life of service. I can think of no greater pleasure than fulfilling my duty,”

“Duty?” Lilian repeated, stepping closer still, “Duty to whom? To Tauroc?”

Sage Fenric laughed at the idea, “If you’ve spoken to him then you’ll know by now that he is a tool, a weapon for me to wield in my calling to my true master,” A part of Lilian wanted to find out who or what Fenric served but just then she saw his body relax just a little. It must have been the thought of his calling, or the reference to the one he served but his shoulders dropped a little and his grip on his sword handle slackened ever so slightly. Lilian signed the word for ‘now’ and watched Emma open her mouth and bite down hard on Sage Fenric’s hand.

In the second that Fenric screamed in pain Lilian tilted backwards and threw her wrist brace directly at him. Just as Emma broke free from his grasp and shoved him backwards he naturally went to snatch her again. That was when the bracer connected with his temple. It was not enough to seriously injure him, but Lilian didn’t need that. She needed him away from Emma and she needed time to close the distance between them. This she got and by the time he’d recovered from the hit she was two steps away and readying a flying kick. Fenric still had some tricks up his sleeve though. Instead of blocking or dodging he threw his sword arm up and out, the sword was too short to reach Lilian at a distance but something in the smell of his blood told Lilian that this was a deadly attack. Lilian cancelled her kick and threw her body down into a controlled slide. The sword leapt out of Sage Fenric’s hand and shot towards where her body had just been. Normally this would be an insane thing to do in a fight, but Lilian saw that Fenric’s sword was still connected to him via a series of those strange black roots. They twisted and tangled around the sword’s handle and were attached to somewhere on Fenric’s arm, deep inside his cloak. Lilian watched as he pulled his arm back and the sword retreated to him in mid air. Lilian quickly shifted her mindset from close quarter fighting to mid range and sprang into a series of cartwheels and somersaults. The blade leaped out of Fenric’s grasp in an effort to find some soft part of her anatomy but it could only find the space she had been a second before. To an outsider it may have looked as though Lilian could only delay the inevitable. She was moving faster and faster; ducking, jumping and springing from her hands. But slowly, with each movement, she was closing the distance, readying herself for a counter attack.

Her heightened sense of smell was proving to be her most useful asset. Before every strike she could sense a spike in Fenric’s blood. It was as if she could smell how he was feeling, like she could read his movements half a second before they were actually made. It worked with feints as well, the chemical signature would be there but it would not be as strong. After a while she could smell the buildup of acid in Fenric’s shoulder and arm and she knew that he was getting tired. To make things more complicated for him, she would occasionally become invisible, popping in and out of existence like a firefly floating between reeds. This made Fenric slash out at thin air on more than one occasion and Lilian delighted in watching him flail at nothing.

When she was finally close enough to attack she took a step towards her opponent before suddenly sensing something friendly nearby. She could not mistake the smell, one she had gotten so used to after so many years together. A few feet behind Sage Fenric with a tungsten switch in her mouth was Fritha the feinhound shimmering into existence. She had crept up behind Sage Fenric and was ready to assist. Lilian ducked under another attack and used her crouched position to send herself flying upwards. Fritha jumped as well and flicked her head forwards sending the switch spinning through the air. Lilian caught the handle span round and brought the weapon down onto her target. Fenric had his sword up to guard but Lilian’s power was enough to bat it away. It came up again for a follow up attack but Lilian already had her foot on its strange black roots. She slammed her foot down which sent both blade and wielder towards the ground. Fenric’s head whipped up just in time to see Lilian’s switch touch his throat.

For the briefest of moments Lilian saw fear in Fenric’s eyes. But he composed himself quickly, “quite impressive. You know, I would have thought you…”

“Oh shut up.” Lilian interrupted him, brought her weapon arm up and struck him hard on the head, knocking him out and turning the great and powerful Sage Fenric into a crumpled heap on the floor.

Lilian paused for a moment, breathed in deeply and relaxed her body. She let the gloaming power fade away and she felt the cold air again as her body changed back into its normal form. She bent down and greeted Fritha making sure to thank her for her help in the fight and for bringing back her weapon. Then, she tried to remove Sage Fenric’s sword, the last thing she wanted was for him to wake up and be able to use that horrible thing on someone else. It took some doing but eventually she managed to pry it from his grasp and remove the strange roots from his arm. They seemed to retract and disappear into the handle of the sword. Lilian was sure to handle it carefully, she felt uneasy when she touched it, like it might strike of its own accord. Finally she turned to look at Emma and Brother Thomas. Emma was smiling and jumping up and down signing messages of congratulations and recreating two or three moments from the fight she had just witnessed. Lilian gestured for her to calm down before asking if she was alright. Emma signed that she was fine and Lilian breathed a sigh of relief. Then, she looked at Brother Thomas.

The church brother was clearly going through a lot. Fat, heavy tears were pooling in his eyes and he was shaking his head. Lilian’s first instinct was to comfort him, but she recalled quickly that he had put Emma in danger and he did not deserve her kindness at this moment.

“They came to me this morning. They assured me that no one would get hurt. I… I just wanted to help. I wanted to stop all of this madness.” Lilian was disappointed. Not because he had gone behind her back, but obviously that hurt quite a bit, but because his actions showed that he did not trust her. She took a deep breath and was about to admonish or scold him, when she stopped herself. Had she really given him a reason to trust her? Up until about a minute ago she had clearly been on the losing side.

“We’re going to take Emma back to her mother. Then you’re going to help Doran get the people in the grove to safety, just like we planned.” As if on cue a massive boom, like an explosion, sounded from round the mountain in the direction of the mural.

“What about that?” Brother Thomas pointed in the direction of the sound.

“That can wait. Everyone’s safety comes first.”

Lilian walked Emma and Brother Thomas back to town and regrouped with Doran near the Stave Church. Emma didn’t seem too scarred by the incident, she was more preoccupied with recounting her version of events and trying to replicate Lilian’s jumping spin attack that she had seen. Lilian kept a constant eye on the treeline. She knew the fight was far from over but dared not go after the rest of the sisters or investigate the mural before she knew everyone to be safe.

When they got to the Stave Church Emma’s mother rushed out of the little crowd that was gathered there. She hugged her daughter, thanked Lilian and shot Brother Thomas a look of ice that could have frozen a fire from forty paces. Mrs Thoreson was there too and she made sure Lilian had something to eat before she rejoined the fight. Lilian protested at first but after smelling the broth that had been prepared by Xander and Liny she felt her stomach growling at her to comply. She stayed with the citizens of Benlunar for a few hours. Every now and again some folk from the grove would arrive after sensing that they were in danger. These were the folk that had been on the fence about Fenric for some time, the die hard believers would take more convincing. Doran had been sure to instruct everyone in town that the people from the grove were to be welcomed with kindness and respect. They needed community as well as safety and at Doran’s instruction everyone was greeted with hugs and smiles and a bowl of warm broth and bread. Fenric’s sword was placed in the Stave Church, somewhere high and secret. Lilian did not want it falling back into Fenric’s hand and so she locked it away in a cupboard and kept the key on her person.

Once the operation was up and running and the light was starting to fade Lilian knew that it was time to head back. The booming sounds could still be heard and they were getting worryingly closer together. Lilian bade everyone farewell and her and Fritha slinked off towards the sunset for what was hopefully one final fight.

As she approached the cliff side where the mural of the field and the cow had been painted the booming sound continued and got progressively louder. With each new crash the ground beneath Lilian’s feet would shake. It was as if the mountain itself was trying to explode, or like something was trying to hammer its way out from inside.

When the mural finally came into view she saw two of the sisters, Tourmaline and Spinel standing in front of the mural. A little way behind them was Sage Fenric, up and about and frantically moving from spot to spot. Tourmaline whispered something behind her when she saw Lilian walking into the clearing. Fenric froze for a second but then went back to rummaging around. As she approached Lilian saw that there were various sigils and markings on the ground, similar to the ones Mrs Thoreson and Doran had drawn on the floor of Mrs Thoreson’s library. She guessed that they were trying to summon Tauroc early and that these booming sounds were signs that it was either working or failing miserably.

“What have you done with our sister?” Tourmaline shouted across the distance.

Lilian continued towards them despite them both bringing their weapons up. Tourmaline held a short sword in each hand and Hematite clutched a thin knife that looked like something one might use to descale a fish. “She’s safe,” Lilian shouted over another boom from the mountain, “but if I do not return safely then I have left her captors with… instructions.” She let that last word linger on her tongue. She was bluffing of course, but they did not need to know that. The two sisters looked at each other. Hematite looked worried, Tourmaline looked angry.

“My sister is a warrior,” Tourmaline responded, “She is well aware of the risks of war.”

Ah well, thought Lilian, there goes that tactic. She had not pinned high hopes on it working, but at least it might make them think twice about using lethal force. Lilian gestured to the clif face behind them, “sounds like he’s having some trouble.”

Tourmaline’s lip curled, “nothing a little time can’t fix.”

“Well then,” Lilian replied, “sounds like I’d better stop you.”

In the last few steps before the gap between her and the sisters was closed Lilian took a deep breath, fed her heart’s golden light into the ground that touched her feet and quickly brought it back up through her toes and soles. It was the fastest she’d ever managed to do it, and the shock of power entered her body like a breath of cold air after an underwater swim. She focused on Fritha and became the werehound. She felt her strides lengthen and the world of sound and smell opened up all around her.

Tourmaline swung first but Lilian’s ability to smell her motivation made it a simple enough task to dodge her attacks. Her increased strength also made it so that her parries and blocks could knock her swords back just a little bit further than before. Lilian got in a stomach blow and a shoulder jab in just six attacks. This new form combined with her knowledge of the Atarapian art made fighting almost pleasurable. Her main concern now was Hematite. The few potions she had left strapped to her person all smelled strange and Lilian could not focus fully on her fight with Tourmaline until she knew what the second sister was planning. After a few successful attacks Hematite reached inside her cloak and pulled out a vibrant orange bottle. Lilian prepared herself to jump backwards or dodge it. But instead of throwing the bottle at Lilian, Hematite tossed it over to Tourmaline. Lilian had been preparing to catch it or dodge the impact and so had put some distance between her and the eldest sister.

Lilian could only watch then as Tourmaline popped the cork off the bottle with her thumb and then drank the whole potion in two swift gulps. Lilian had been so used to Hematites bottles being weapons she’d completely forgotten that their contents might be consumable. Tourmaline tossed the bottle to one side and it bounced on the stone with a bell-like ringing. Lilian braced herself for the next round. She knew first hand what dangerous tinctures kept in sealed bottles could do to a fighter. She would have hated to see someone as skilled as Tourmaline consume nightshade. The eldest sister did not appeared to get any stronger, nor did she have purple liquid seeping from her eyes. Instead, her pupils widened into empty black dots and the whites of her eyes seemed to be flecked with silver. Lilian was briefly reminded of Zadoch Korshid’s eyes. But before she could be swept up in the terrible memory of the Solar Pator’s destructive power she had put her weapon up to guard an attack. Tourmaline had closed the gap between them in a heartbeat and had struck out twice before Lilian could wrap her head around what was happening. Lilian was relying on pure instinct and was cut on the shoulder and leg in quick succession. What was worse was that she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Hematite was reaching for something secret within the depths of her cloak.

Lilian could not escape, she could not back away quick enough let alone prepare for another attack from Hematite. Tourmaline’s blades were cutting through the air like a windmill in a hurricane. She showed no signs of tiring, gave no openings for Lilian to take advantage of and moved too fast for Lilian’s sense of smell to track her intentions. Lilian’s wrist was cut, her nose was punched and her hip was kicked with the force of a horse.

Worse still was that Hematite was gearing up to throw something. Suddenly Lilian saw her throwing arm get yanked backwards. Fritha had circled the fight and grabbed at her cloak, recognising the distant threat. This gave Lilian permission to concentrate on her fight with Tourmaline. She managed to successfully block or parry the next ten attacks while Hematite dropped whatever it was she was carrying and began to shout and scream as the bottle burst on the floor beside her. Now it was Tourmaline’s turn to be distracted. She shot her sister concerned looks as Hematite was flailing and cursing a few feet away. Lilian pressed her advantage. She kicked out at Tourmaline back leg putting her off balance. Hematite span round to reveal large holes in her cloak. Whatever had been in that bottle was eating away at the material and seemed to have spilled onto her leg. Lilian was able to grab Tourmaline’s right wrist with her left hand and match her steps to keep her from pulling it back. At the same time she blocked an incoming stab attack from Tourmaline’s left sword and seeing as she had blocked from above was able to then swing her switch up and connect with Tourmaline’s chin. Her first head hit against the fighter sister and it felt fantastic. She drove the victory home with a knee to her stomach before tugging hard on the right wrist which she still gripped and brought Tourmaline's forehead down onto the domed front of her feinhound helmet. The impact reverberated through Lilian’s body. She used it as an opportunity to twist Tourmaline’s wrist, opening her palm and disarming her right hand. Lilian caught the handle of her sword as her opponent fell to her knees and had it at her throat before she could look up into Lilian’s eyes.

“Drop it,” she whispered nodding her head to Tourmaline’s other hand. Knowing she was beaten, Tourmaline let her second sword fall to the floor.

“Please,” the fallen warrior spoke through gritted teeth, “my sister needs help. The chemical can be neutralised with a powder in my pocket.” She glanced down to her left side and Lilian noticed a slit in her leather armour. She huffed out a sigh, reached quickly into the pocket and extracted a small bottle similar to the ones Mr Attorcop had used to store the Lunar Essence.

“Fritha, guard!” Lilian barked the order to the feinhound and watched as she took her place in front of Tourmaline, her teeth bared and a jangling growl coming from deep within her chest. Lilian walked over to Hematite who reached out desperately for the bottle. She paused for a second and wondered if the bodyguard would have used the powder on her had she been the one to have been doused with the burning liquid. It didn’t matter, Hematite was Hematite and Lilian could not help but be Lilian. She threw the bottle at the fallen sister and watched her empty it all over her leg and rub it into the large red wound that was appearing there. Just then, she smelled a familiar and friendly scent. She looked to the east and saw Serena and Peter appearing from the treeline with cuffs and chains. They had waited patiently as instructed and now they were there to shackle the sisters and make sure they would not rise to fight again. The remaining sisters did not put up a fight and Lilian watched as they were led away for their wounds to be tended.

Lilian had beaten them, the Brava’s army, from Mr Attorcop’s riddle. But there was no time for songs or gloating though. The sun was setting in the distance and another booming crash brought her attention to the cliff side mural and the desperate man whispering spells at its base.

“Give it up Fenric,” Lilian shouted at him but he either did not hear her, or chose to ignore the cry. “You’re beaten, now get out of Benlunar and never…”

There was another boom and Lilian stepped back in horror as she saw a crack appear in the mural.

It popped into existence like a black lightning bolt that refused to fade. Lilian’s stomach churned at the sight of it. It stood out like a stain above the cow in the field and Lilian knew that if she did not act quickly then whatever had caused it would cause more cracks until… Well, it did not bear thinking about.

Lilian broke into a sprint. She was thirty steps away from Fenric when another crack appeared, twenty when the two cracks joined, ten when the gap became larger and only five when the demon king erupted from the cliff side, shattering the mural into a million piece jigsaw. The rock and stone flew past Lilian like she was in a hail storm. She barely had time to throw her hands up to protect her face when Tauroc, the fifteen foot tall, cow-headed demon roared into existence, spotted little Lilian Lausanne and picked her up with one hand.

He lifted her up to his bovine features so close that Lilian could see the reflection of the moonlight on the mucus of his nose. He brought a large brown eye down to Lilian’s struggling form and said, “Should have taken the deal,” before stepping back and throwing her up into the sky.