Chapter 17 (Patreon)

“I don’t know a Cumula,” Flint answered, cursing himself for not getting clothed. He had groggily gotten out of bed after the first howl, urinated and drank water. Initially, he thought Maya was just howling at the moon with her new friend.

The second howl had snapped him alert, and the alien white glow told him something was different. Worried that Maya was in trouble, he had only pulled on his boots and grabbed his crossbow before running—the bedroll got too warm when Maya leaned against him. Now, as he stood in only a shirt and no pants, he had to focus on not letting his teeth chatter.

“Don’t lie to me, human!” The fae-woman hissed, and the bolts of moonlight rotated to point at Flint and his dogs. “My party’s Wyldmaster bound that snow dog Cumula! Now he’s free, and she’s not here.”

When Flint heard the sound of hooves against stone, he knew they were in danger. He was sure she had at least two pucks with her. Bunty wasn’t sure what a Wyldmaster was, but he guessed they were the mages who controlled the war beasts. Flint hadn’t seen pucks cast many spells besides the green arrows and the one shield caster. The chances of the woman having more companions were high. He needed to take cover soon, but he worried the fae would pepper him with bolts as soon as he moved.

“She’s dead.” The words just came out. While he racked his brain trying to figure out what to do next, his tongue had taken charge. He wrestled back control before continuing. “The bear lost control and killed her. The dog was hurt, so I fixed him—”

“Liar!” She exclaimed and waved her hand at Flint. A trio of bolts broke off from the rest and shot towards him. He dove backwards, dodging most of them. One brushed his boot, cutting a groove along its side. “You’re a murderer and an enemy of the fae.”

The final word came out as a screech. Soon after, a pair of loud bellows sounded behind fae woman, followed by a nasal cackling. Flint didn’t wait to find out who the last call belonged to and scrambled into cover. More bolts peppered the ground where he stood. Maya followed, and Bjorn stuck to their heels. The snowdog appeared much too shaken up. Given what he had just heard, Bjorn hadn’t willingly followed the sylph. Flint guessed that Wyldmasters had the power to bend a beast to their will forcefully. Perhaps they were the individuals that made ordinary animals fae-touched. Either way, it meant there was a chance that if the person got a hold of Maya or Bjorn, they could turn either of them against him.

After a quick scan of their surroundings, Flint spotted a route to the area he wanted. A patch of the slope just downhill from the Heartstone was more or less intact. While the walls were still more or less intact, the walls along the ground level had several holes in them. The narrow alleys between the buildings and the opportunity would travel through them would give him plenty of cover. Hopefully, it would bring the moonlight mage down to ground level too.

The clip-clops of hooves had gotten closer, and the glow above suggested the woman was closing in too. So, he projected an image of the location through the empathic link to the dogs. He got a confirmation through Maya, but Bjorn’s fear clouded all other information for him. Hoping the snow dog would follow them, he took off, running uphill.

Flint heard fae speech behind him as he ran. Among the pucks deep, throaty words, he heard one croaky, high-pitched voice too. It had a grating element to it. Flint guessed it was the Wyldmaster.

Maya ran several feet ahead of him but paused every now and then to check on him and Bjorn. Ever since [Guide Growth] enhanced her physiology, her speed had increased dramatically. Flint believed it was the heavy investment in [Control]. She appeared more concerned for Bjorn than him, and Flint was glad. The big guy needed help. It went without saying that Maya was a good girl, and he intended to remind her of the fact once the fighting was over.

When white light illuminated the ground around him, Flint knew he was in trouble. He dove forwards, and several moonlight bolts rained down around him. One grazed his outer left thigh, and another ripped his shirt through the armpit. The first stung, and he felt warm blood pouring down his leg, while the other didn’t touch him, but the skin felt cold and raw.

Worried that the woman would attack him again while he tried to get up, Flint flipped over, aimed his crossbow and fired both bolts simultaneously. The woman no longer had wings, but she stepped on thin air while leaping from atop one crumbling pillar on to another. The five bolts following her disappeared while she moved, and Flint knew he had a moment of respite. The clip-clop of puck hooves was close, so he got back on his feet and ran.

Bjorn had overtaken Maya as she slowed, waiting for him by an old wall. She barked once he caught up before taking off again. Flint’s lungs protested as he chased after her. He prided himself on his stamina, but the fall had ruined his breathing, and the wounds had his heart racing.

I shouldn’t have sent Adam to the fort.

There was no point in crying over spilt milk. So, he ducked behind a half-collapsed pillar and worked the crossbow’s crank. Once the strings were drawn, he loaded two bolts. Less than a dozen remained, and he needed to make the most of them. Maya paused and barked at him from ahead, but Maya didn’t follow. Instead, he peeked around the corner, looking for pursuers.

The moon mage wasn’t in sight, but he spotted the two pucks. Instead of hardened bark and leather chest armour like the specimens from the siege, they wore tight-fitting clothes and hooded capes. It looked like a scout’s outfit. They were likely a forward parting searching human lands for points of attack. Flint aimed at the axe-bearer first. The puck bowman wouldn’t be as significant a threat among the rubble-filled alleys ahead. His target tried jumping over the first bolt.

The puck failed and took a blue to his furry inner thigh. When he landed on his knees, bellowing in pain, Flint fired again, skewering the Wyld soldier through the eye. The other puck bellowed, and another figure rushed out of the shadows. Flint ducked as a black arrow wrapped in vines shot towards him. Unlike the moonlight bolts, it drilled into the stone about Flint’s head, showering him with sand and stone fragments.

Maya barked at Bunty, but he told her to leave flee through the empathic link. A large expanse of open ground lay ahead. Flint worried Maya and Bjorn would get shot while in the open. He needed to cover their escape. However, the second he peeked out of cover, an arrow bounced off the stone next to his head. Even though it was just a glance, [Keen Eye] helped him get a good look at the attackers.

Flint recognised the second figure as a brownie. He had seen quite a few of them during the last attack. Initially, he thought they were helpers and servants, but as the creature leaned over the fallen puck with green glowing eyes, his assumption proved incorrect.

Wyldmaster!

The second puck fired another arrow, forcing him to stay hidden. The creature was covering the Wyldmaster. There was no telling what the creature’s magic could do. Flint worried it would revive the fallen puck. So, he reloaded his crossbow and dove out of cover. The first bolt missed both the enemies. Then he landed painfully on his injured leg and fired again. The second bolt failed to kill the brownie but struck its shoulder. A green flash emanated from the creature’s hands, and it screeched recoiling. The brownie stumbled into the puck and knocked it over, making the next arrow go wide.

Flint’s stomach did flips as he saw thorny brambles burst from the axe-carrying puck. They ripped through his body, destroying any chance of the Wyldmaster’s magic reviving him. They shredded the brownie’s left arm too. As it shrieked, the puck archer fired another arrow. He managed to roll away from it, scrambling to reload the crossbow.

Before Flint could fire again, a blinding flash made him falter. It was the moon mage. He didn’t know where she had gone, but she had appeared out of nowhere without making a single sound. Her eyes glowed like the moonlight as she stood on the pillar he was initially using as cover. In fact, if not for her glowing eyes, he wouldn’t have seen her at all. A glistening white spear of pure light materialised in her hands, and she lunged, driving the weapon into his shoulder.

A pain-filled scream burst from Flint’s lips. It wasn’t just the impalement hurt but the immense cold emanating off the conjured weapon too. The pain spread to his chest as his heart struggled to against the frigid temperature. A white and brown barrelled into the moonlight mage’s side. The force knocked her off him, and Flint screamed again as the spear went with her.

It was Maya. She had disobeyed his instructions and come to his rescue. Then Bjorn appeared, standing between him and the puck. He growled, baring his teeth, but his tail remained between his legs. Flint felt both dogs trying to communicate with him through the empathic, link but the pain was too much. He struggled to decipher their mess as he got to his feet.

Bjorn turned and ran as soon as Flint was up, occasionally looking back at him and whining. He followed, feeling light-headed as blood warmed the frostbitten skin around the newest wound. Maya brushed up against Flint’s leg moving within him. She barked, and her ears stayed flat against her head. Unlike Bjorn, Maya’s tail remained straight and pointing to the sky. It gave Flint hope. She was braver than both of them put together. As long as he had his best friend with him, there was still hope.