The dreadlord careened across the field, snatching at the two remaining riders as they desperately tried to lure it to the pit. They were doomed from the start. With one swipe of a wicked hand, the monster sent a horse and rider flying together, then with another it caught the rider and squeezed. Benedict looked away, but he still heard the pop.

  “Wren, do you have anything in your book worth using against that thing?” Ordra asked.

  “I’m not a warrior,” Wren protested.

  “Better become one soon,” Amalyn said.

  “Just get back to camp and give us some support,” Ordra said to Wren.

  Orders came from the camp. “Close the gates! Archers, to the wall! Fire throwers, ready!”

  Benedict fought down all instinct to attack the dreadlord. Him not being in the way was more help to the fire throwers at the moment, even if the monster for sure knew they were there. Would it know they had special weapons?

  The last rider flew from his horse, his top half going in one direction and his bottom the other. A moment later, the dreadlord halted and looked at the barricade behind which all the fire throwers crouched with their weapons. An intense flash turned into a brief blaze on the surface. While the barricade held, the men didn’t. All of them stood and leveled their weapons. Benedict took in a breath; it wasn’t within range!

  Streams of fire erupted from the line, and all of them dissipated harmlessly at least twenty yards before hitting the monster. It did notice them, however, and it hit them again with the blast from its eye. This time, the barricade broke and blasted the men behind it with shrapnel. They recovered just in time to see the monster bearing down on them, breaking the rest of the barricade and scattering them. One unfortunate man fell into the pit.

  Benedict ran toward the dreadlord, ignoring Ordra’s calls to stop. It knew what was coming in the other barricade. Those men were doomed unless he distracted it at least some. The eye focused on him, and he smiled. It was a big cyclopean monster. Every story he had ever read and every game he had ever played had a single overriding way to kill one: take out that single eye. It must work for real, right?

  He darted to the side, letting the ground right behind where he just was explode into embers. It focused on him again, and he darted away. More embers burst behind him. His heart raced as he dashed away from the third attack and dove behind the barricade. Around him, the fire throwers cowered. Not that Benedict could blame them.

  Amalyn landed next to him. “I’ll keep it distracted until everyone else can be here. Don’t make me wait too long.”

  “After you, then,” Benedict said.

  Off she went, legs glowing as she her powers accelerated her. The dreadlord grabbed and swiped at her. She darted around and through them, sometimes letting the limbs miss her by a couple of feet.

  Ordra clapped Benedict on the back. “We’re here.”

  Amalyn kept moving around the dreadlord like a mosquito. Every strike with her glaive deflected off the thick fur. Benedict winced. It was likely that every attempt they made would end up the same way.

  “Kirion, use the fire arrow,” Ordra began. “They might not be perfect, but thinning out that thing’s fur should help us out. Shiyo, Benedict, we draw that thing closer to the barricade here. Fire and a little extra attention might force it into the pit.”

  “I’m going for that thing’s eye,” Benedict said. “If nothing else, it won’t be able to use that fire attack.”

  “How do you plan on doing that?” Kirion asked.

  Benedict held up his grapple. “Amalyn isn’t the only one who can fly.”

  Ordra nodded. “Just be careful. If you can’t do it, go back to focusing on the legs.”

  “I will.”

  “Kirion, go!”

  Kirion drew an arrow and nocked it behind the barricade. The projectile glowed, and he rose above the barricade while drawing it back. It turned into a compact fireball the moment he loosed it and exploded into embers on contact. He loosed another, aiming for the same area.

  Benedict launched into the field the moment the fire burst. It didn’t take long to reach the dreadlord. Amalyn kept darting about, avoiding its claws and keeping its attention. Furious swings of her glaive caught bare skin and threw blood, finally. By the time the dreadlord noticed Benedict, he was well within range of his grapple.

  He more pointed than aimed the tool, and it connected just ahead of the monster’s forelegs. If it noticed, it didn’t care at first. Benedict soared along the conjured string, latching into hard, coarse hair when he hit the body. It noticed him then without a doubt, as it started to buck and throw its substantial weight around.

  “Not the best way to do that,” Amalyn said as she landed on the back and sliced at the charred fur.

  “I know what I’m doing,” Benedict groaned. “Somewhat.”

  He crawled forward, using handfuls of hair to keep himself in place, a strategy that strained him when the dreadlord tried to buck him off more. Each time it did, Benedict slammed back into the body. The fur really was not a good cushion. Finally, he reached the eye, flipped his sword to an icepick grip, and thrust downward. At the same time, the dreadlord bucked, and Benedict slipped. He hit the ground hard, and so did his sword a foot away from him.

  Almost too late, he spotted the dagger-like claws coming for him. He rolled out of the way, swiping his sword as he did. Air was all that he cut. A different hand stabbed into the ground next to him. The third came down, then a shockwave blasted the dreadlord back. Benedict got back to his feet and readied himself.

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  The shockwave didn’t make the dreadlord lose its footing, but a stumble was a stumble. Ordra dodged the two arms that came for him and slammed the edge of a shield into the monster’s face. Again, a shockwave sent it backwards.

  “Kirion! Now!” Ordra shouted.

  Multiple arrows stuck in the fur on two legs and along the body. From each impact, ethereal chains flashed down and embedded themselves into the ground. The dreadlords futilely pulled against the bindings, and the guards came from behind the barricade, fire throwers ready.

  The party retreated from the dreadlord, and the guards fired. The dreadlord gripped the ground with its free hands and tried to charge them, but Kirion’s binds held and fire engulfed its body. Smoke rose from its hide, blowing away split and crackling hair. Amalyn sailed through the air and stabbed her glaive into skin. The dreadlord bucked, and Amalyn leaped off, ripping her glaive away and throwing a line of blood into the air.

  “It worked!” one of the guards shouted, raising his fire thrower in the air.

  The dreadlord moved its eye toward him, and the guards all ran. Before its blast fired, a series of spears pierced its back, most of them hitting burned areas. Wren stood on the camp wall, already drawing another spell in the air. The dreadlord turned its gaze to him and locked itself in place.

  Benedict grappled himself right up to the eye. Mid-flight, he reversed the grip on his sword and jabbed it down the second his feet hit skin. Though it had no mouth, he could have sworn the beast screamed as it thrashed about. Benedict kept himself rooted and his sword in the eye. Then it charged forward. Kirion’s binds broke, and Benedict couldn’t move before it slammed into the camp wall.

  Benedict found himself on the ground, still clutching his sword. At least he didn’t lose it again. He tried to move, and his body refused. He couldn’t even feel his fingertips. A giant hand rose above him, claws unfurled. At least one could skewer him, probably ending his life for good. Morighana’s power flared within him. He forced it away. He promised Shiyo he wouldn’t use it, after all. The claw came down, a shadow covered it, and the distinct sound of metal on metal rang out.

  Ordra stood above him, holding the claw at bay with a shield. “You can thank me later.”

  “I will when I can move again,” Benedict coughed.

  “You’ll be back on your feet in no time. Until then, I’ll—”

  Ordra flew across the ground from a single swipe of a different hand. The dreadlord charged through the hole it made in the camp wall, ignoring the adventurers for the moment to instead smash through temporary buildings and wagons.

  Wren landed next to Benedict and drew a quick spell in the air. The moment it cast, Benedict felt his limbs come back, and he sat up. Pain shot through his head as Wren drew another one, this one more intricate. The remaining pain diminished in short order.

  “The first spell was quick, not powerful,” Wren said. “You should have waited.”

  “I’ll remember that next time,” Benedict groaned.

  Shiyo grabbed his hand and helped him up. “The battle isn’t over yet.”

  In the distance, the dreadlord continued thrashing about. Kirion’s quick binds kept it still in moments, but he couldn’t restrain it fully. Blood leaked from the eye where Benedict had stabbed it, yet the monster still knew where the guards were underneath it. Wren was already frantically using healing spells on everyone else, and Amalyn kept up the same tactics she had since the start. It refused to go completely down.

  The hide was too thick for them to get to the essential organs, Benedict guessed. They needed some serious power to get all the way through, or a shortcut. If it had an orifice—

  “Shiyo, can your exploding magic balls be set to go off after a short time?” Benedict asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Shiyo replied.

  “I know they explode on impact, but can you make one do that after, say, five seconds?”

  “I can, but why now?”

  Benedict held his hand out. “Just tell me the command and let me do the rest. This might just be insane. Give me a particularly powerful one.”

  Shiyo drew one out and held it in her palm. Up close, Benedict finally noticed the tiny red runes written all over the surface.

  “When you’re ready, close your hand around it and say ‘Tutu’,” she said. “You’ll have a few moments after you release it to get away.”

  “Tutu?”

  “I had to pick uncommon words, or someone could guess how to use one!”

  “Fine, fine. Just close my hand on it first?”

  “Yes, then say the word, release, and get away.”

  Benedict ran forward as fast as his legs could carry him, placing the magical grenade into his coffer and withdrawing his grapple. Realistically, he only had one shot. Shiyo ran alongside him, sword wrapped in bloody shadows.

  “Kirion, bind the thing’s head long enough for me to get on it!” Benedict shouted as he passed the thief.

  “Are you insane?” Kirion shouted back.

  “Just do it!” Shiyo said.

  The dreadlord continued to thrash about. Kirion’s arrows hit its chin one by one, and chains locked it in place. Benedict aimed his grapple at the motionless head and clicked the launch button. It hit its mark perfectly. Like before, as he flew forward, Benedict reversed his sword and jabbed into the eye socket upon contact with the skin. Unlike before, he loaded the Viper’s Curse into the blade first.

  Pained trembles ran through the body, and Benedict saw an arm coming in. It wasn’t aimed at him, however. Instead, the claws dug into the dreadlord’s skin and ripped pieces away where Kirion’s binds had been applied. It continued thrashing against the remaining binds. Benedict held fast to the grapple while he put his sword away and drew out the orb. The dreadlord’s motions flipped him around, and he landed directly onto the ruined eye.

  “Get away, everyone!” Benedict shouted, then he spoke the activation word into the orb.

  Disgusting meat and liquid enveloped Benedict’s arm as he shoved the orb into the eye socket, much of which he ripped out when he freed his arm. The head bucked again, and he jumped. Where he would land, he didn’t know. There was no time to think about it. He only hoped he was far enough away he wouldn’t get hurt.

  In front of him, the monster’s head burst open around its ruined eye as magic blasted it outward. He felt a jolt to his body, then another as he landed on a pile of rubble. Amalyn cried out next to him and grabbed her side. Benedict drew a healing draught and tossed it to her before taking one for himself. Behind them, the dreadlord dissolved into black mist.

  The party spent the two subsequent days helping the citizens of Tilm get their lives in better order. When those days were up, a caravan set out, led by Lem and his carriage full of adventurers. They spent the night near the graves of the initial caravan, where most of the travelers wanted to be—all had lost family and friends in that battle.

  Lem bore the party back to Lorvath, stopping the carriage in front of Celica’s shop. “I wonder where Hana has been…”

  Amalyn hopped off the carriage and stretched. “If I know Celica, she’s been working. That girl has a way of getting people to help her.”

  Benedict purposefully avoided Shiyo’s glare.

  “I’ll be happy to see her regardless,” Lem said.

  When they opened the door, Celica was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Hana stood behind the counter, dressed in a brand new, fashionable dress and wearing a bright smile.

  “Welcome to the Artificers’ Guild Shop!” she said in a sing-song tone. “We have all manner of—Lem!”

  Without warning, she leaped the counter and ran to Lem. His breath escaped immediately when she wrapped her arms around him.

  “I see Celica has you working,” Shiyo said, again eyeing Benedict.

  “Please don’t think badly of her. I wanted to help. Besides, I quite enjoy it.” She glanced about the group, then to the floor. “The monster?”

  “You’ll never have to see it again, Miss Hana,” Ordra said.

  “We didn’t even get any unique parts out of it, it disappeared so fast,” Kirion complained, earning a slap from Amalyn.

  “Where is Celica, anyway?” Benedict asked.

  “She set off with some porters a couple days ago,” Hana said. “She should be back soon.”

  The door opened, and through it walked an older man wearing a rough tunic under a leather vest. He held a letter in his hand and bore a dark expression across his face.

  “What is it, boss?” Hana asked.

  “I apologize, Miss Hana, I will have to leave soon. Celica has disappeared.”