Blue Diamonds (Book One of The Blue Diamonds Saga) (14 page)

Kala looked to Shomnath, wondering if they'd somehow upset the old man, but he only reflected her curiosity. He shrugged, and then nodded for them to follow Baymar up the tail. They had a way across the acrid sea, and for now that was all that mattered to him.

So began the adventurer’s trip across the boiling sea, riding on the back of giant earth elemental. As Aga swam, he kept the very top of his shell above the bubbling acid, giving his passengers about fifty paces of walking space. The ride was swift and surprisingly smooth, yet no one dared to think what would happen if Aga decided to take a sudden dive.

The fog obscured most of their view, although the outline of cliff tops could still be seen slowly passing by. Kala eyed their sharp peaks and imagined a pack of wolves, ears erect and patiently waiting for their dinner. They sat huddled back to back in the center, listening to the sound of lapping waves and popping bubbles. The smell was so horrible that you could actually feel the stench inside of you. It was like inhaling a case of heartburn. Everyone forgot Baymar's strange behavior that followed Aga’s healing, being far more concerned with the water line. They were now in the middle of the boiling sea and their lives were in Aga’s hands.

Nearly half way into the ride, Kala was the first to notice several shadows weaving about the surface of Aga’s back. They were large, winged shadows, but just as abruptly as they materialized they disappeared. She looked to Pall, now wide eyed and staring into the grey murk above, confirming she wasn’t alone in what she saw. The giant cliffs to their north and south were much too far away to cause any obstruction. Baymar was the only one who hadn’t noticed the momentary shifting of light, because his wide brimmed hat blocked a good deal of his vision.

Then the shadows returned, and there were more this time. Rolo shot to his feet, snapping Baymar from his deep thought. Suddenly the popping of the water was drowned out from a horrible screeching, resonating from somewhere high above. It started with a few random screams then picked up in pace until it became such rapid ululation it may as well have been one long, continuous drawl.

“What are they?” Shomnath screamed through the noise, rising to his feet. With a burst of speed Kala dashed up and down Aga’s back, looking to the sky.

“Griffins,” she said, screeching to a halt next to them. “And they look really, really mad.”

The noise from the griffins was so loud, that they had to yell into one another’s ear just to be heard. Once they got a gist of the situation, Rolo and Pall drew their weapons and went into a defensive stance.

With the body of a lion, and the wings, talons, and head of an eagle, griffins were both king of the jungle as well as commander of the skies. They were normally calm, majestic creatures that avoided human contact. Yet today had been far from normal, and now six very angry griffins circled overhead promising the abnormality of the day was about to escalate. Then the griffins went silent, making the dark shadows weaving through the grey above seem all the more menacing.

"They're about to pounce," announced Kala.

“Why would they want us?” growled Rolo. Cats were always his least favorite animals to fight, even the chained ones back home in the arena. In fact the only times he didn't feel quite so eager to fight, was when he emerged from the arena doors to find those nasty, chained felines staring with their yellow eyes, just hoping to hook their claws into the contestants. Now, unchained cats that could fly were circling him.

Rolo left his massive shield strapped to his back, choosing to grip his long staff with both hands. He preferred the staff to a bladed weapon, because the eight-foot pole doubled as a 'walking stick' when he wasn't shattering the bones of his enemies. His staff held quite a bit of sentimental value for him. Shomnath ordered the staff, named
Crusher
by the arena fans, carved to accommodate Rolo’s massive hands by the greatest craftsmen Somerlund had to offer.

The staff was eight feet long, and made of solid corrock, a rare wood of the south. Corrock trees grow at a rate of one twisted foot per thousand years, and are so strong that they are impossible to chop down without magical aid. It is even rumored that one of the craftsmen perished in the process. Needless to say it was the nicest gift, of the very few, that Rolo had ever received.

“This is bad,” said Baymar bluntly, drawing everyone’s attention.

The old man stood up, pulled his hat from his head, and then looked at them apologetically. Baymar then plucked the large, yellow feather from its brim and held it high for everyone to see. Coincidentally, as the friends stared at the feather the griffins let out another bone scratching series of screams.

“Ye can’t be serious. A griffin feather?” asked Pall. He gripped his axe tighter and returned his attention to the circling cats.

“Actually, a baby griffin feather,” added the cleric. For the second time today Shomnath was utterly speechless.

“Well, that’s prolly why they'd want us,” said Rolo, clarifying the obvious.

A moment later, one of the shadows swooped down and clutched Baymar’s robe from behind. The griffin lifted him from the ground effortlessly, causing him to drop both his hat and feather in the commotion. If it weren’t for Shomnath's quick reflexes and iron grip, or more aptly his golden grip, via his impenetrable gauntlet, the cleric would have become a hungry griffin cub’s lunch.

It didn't solve the entire situation though, because now Shomnath was being pulled back and forth along with the cleric. It took all of the prince's focus to hold some ground in a game of tug-o-war with the griffin. Baymar, who was dangling between Shomnath and his opponent, was the rope.

All hopes that Shomnath could jerk Baymar free from the griffin’s clutches diminished, when a second griffin swooped in and also snagged a talon full of robe, doubling the pull and yanking the prince off balance. He tried furiously to regain footing, as he slid perilously towards the edge of the shell where an acidic death waited. It was during this moment that Baymar regretted his fancy robe. Specifically this one, the one he'd thoroughly enchanted against tearing. He could have chosen any of his robes that weren’t protected, or even better he could have chosen one that had buttons (this one was a throw over).

Luckily, Pall was close enough to make a dive for the prince’s waist. The dwarf added just enough weight to keep them grounded. Pall tossed his axe to the ground and dug his iron sandals into the stone beneath him, desperately trying to even out the struggle.

Now the game of tug-o-war was at a standstill, albeit still perilously close to the bubbling water. The griffins pumped their wings hard, alternating between jerking the helpless cleric and swatting at Shomnath and Pall with their free talons. Shomnath tucked Baymar’s leg under his arm, freeing his gauntlet hand to block the attacks.

Rolo tried to reach them, but was quickly intercepted by three swooping griffins. Together, they looped in one after the next, in an organized attack against the largest of their enemies. He desperately swatted at them with his staff, grounding one after scoring a breaking wallop to its wing, then catching another with a solid blow to its side that sent it screaming away into the fog.

The third learned from the others and kept its distance, bobbing in mid-flight, snapping at him with its razor sharp beak while grabbing for crusher with its claws. The flurry proved overwhelming and it scored a deep bite into Rolo's right wrist, slicing easily into his flesh, and then crunching hard onto bone as it locked its beak.

Rolo fought through the pain and instinctively yanked in the bloody hand, pulling the griffin in. It allowed him the ability to lunge forward hard, leading with his left hand so that he could pound the opposite end of his staff into the big cat’s body. Ribs cracked and the griffin released Rolo's wrist. The hit sent the beast tumbling to the ground with its tail tucked, whimpering in misery. The whining ended with a loud PLOP and FZZZZ, as the winged lion tumbled farther then room allowed. Unfortunately, the ordeal opened Rolo’s left side to an attack by the griffin he'd grounded earlier, and who had since been patiently sizing up the giant.

It pounced onto Rolo’s back, hooking its talons on his shield while it viciously pecked at his head, neck, and shoulders. He dropped his staff and raised his arms, flailing in a futile attempt to block the cat’s attack, only to have his hands shredded in the process. For the first time in many years, Rolo felt panic in the heat of battle.

Kala was horrified. Rolo’s face and chest was painted crimson, but she was too busy to aid. The sixth griffin, the female and by far the largest of the pack, hovered between her and Rolo. Her eyes locked with the griffin's then, in a deadly standoff. A griffin pride, the opposite of a pride of lions, consists of several males and one dominant female, who is usually the largest and strongest of the animals. Inside, a small part of Kala wished they didn’t have to fight the majestic creatures.

“Please…” she lipped.

The griffin’s eyes denied her any possibility for peace. She knew she had no time to dance with the alpha female. Rolo needed help, and his situation wasn’t improving. In a last attempt at avoidance, Kala tried to juke the alpha female to the left then dash to the right, but it was to no avail. As fast as the elf could move, both lion and the eagle were in the same league of speedy reflexes.

Seeing no way to get around the animal, she decided to palm her deadly blades, desperate for a clear line of sight to Rolo’s assailant. Between the female’s wide wings and Rolo twisting about, she was just as liable to put a blade in Rolo's skull.

Instead, she chose to take a more drastic action, because if she didn’t get the griffin off Rolo’s back it was liable to tear his head off. Also, she could see that the griffin Rolo had batted into the air earlier was once again on the prowl, stalking for a chance to get revenge on the giant man. Now, with Rolo's hands reaching for the cat on his back his torso was an open, easy target. She had no time to lose if she was going to save the man she loved.

She chose a dangerous maneuver, in an attempt to exploit the only weakness the creatures might possess. A lion is a master of the stalking kill, using its explosiveness to frighten and overwhelm, before dragging its prey to its death, tearing at it along the way. An eagle catches its prey in similar fashion, except instead of using tall grass and brush for camouflage it swoops in, using its superior eyesight and reflexes to ambush from a distance. In both instances the animal thrives off the element of surprise, so she did the only thing she could imagine the griffin wouldn't be ready for. Holding a single blade in her left hand, while keeping several for throwing in her right, Kala took two running steps and leaped high into the air, straight at the hovering female griffin.

The strategy paid dividends as the momentarily confused griffin waned lower to the ground, not used to being on the defensive. It cowered low but kept its deadly maw aimed upward ready for the elf to rain down an attack, but this was not Kala’s intention. Instead she let her momentum carry her into a front flip over the low flying griffin.

As the arc of her flip peaked, she reached down with her left hand and planted a blade deep into the griffin’s shoulder. Once her blade caught, she curled her legs to help momentum swing her close to its body. She let gravity do the rest as her blade ripped a long gash down the center of the griffin’s muscular back. The griffin instantly screamed in agony. The lion meat was all corded muscle, as she suspected it would be, and the effort it took for her blade to slice through it slowed her fall. It slowed the fall, and gave her enough balance to steady her right hand.

Rolo was still twisting and jerking about, but a moving target wasn’t a problem for her. Now that she passed her obstacle and gained a clear line of sight she had full confidence in her aim, and out of instinct she let loose with furious speed. Two loud thuds emitted from the griffin that was on the giant’s back. One blade sunk into its eye, another straight through its ribs and into its heart. It immediately fell in a lifeless, twitching heap.

Kala remained latched on to the female a moment longer, her blade still lodged at the end of a bloody gash that stretched from shoulder to tail. Before shaking loose, she twisted her blade to make her point. The point was well taken. She pulled her blade free from the wounded griffin, and without hesitation it flew away screaming in defeat. Kala was still several feet in the air, so she became weightless, as only elves can, and floated down slowly. She never took her eyes off of Rolo, who was on his hands and knees now.

Kala was so lost in concern for her giant, that she overlooked the griffin that'd been stalking. What she didn’t know was that upon hearing his queen’s screams, the scrawny male had switched targets. Kala was his new prey, and just as her toes reached shell it sprung at her, slamming into the middle of her back with a fierce head butt. Rolo had made eye contact with her the moment the beak made impact with her lower back, right before she went flying several yards and then landing in a motionless pile. Her assailant followed, confident in his victory.

“No,” muttered the giant.

Rage took over, numbing Rolo from all pain, sound, or feeling. He’d lost too much blood, much of it now drying over his body and clothes, but he found fuel in the sickening wrath bubbling deep within. It was this primal rage that lifted him almost mindlessly from his knees and directed him.

At one moment, the griffin pawed at Kala the way a cat inspects a dead mouse. The next moment, a sprinting giant was planting a boot into the griffin’s body with such force that the lion's heart exploded on impact. A limp form sailed away from the kick, only to sail into the hungry, green acid.