Game Play (35 page)

"Luck,"
the others echoed.

The Slave stood
beside them with shoulders squared, ready for battle.

Journeyman went to
Bryl and extended a clay hand in a formal gesture. "Live long and
prosper."

Delrael cleared his
throat. "We're ready."

Bryl took a deep
breath and rolled the Air Stone.

The air shimmered
with the massive illusion gelling around them. Forms appeared, snapping into
sharp clarity.

On the slope
overlooking Scartaris's horde, another army now stood: all human characters,
clad in perfect armor, strong and proud, carrying a variety of weapons. With a
start, Delrael recognized most of the faces
―
they were his own or
Vailret's. Some bore moustaches and beards or dark hair, but Bryl had plainly
used his own memory. Other soldiers looked like characters from the Stronghold
village.

The fighters
carried bright shields with the colors of villages hexagons distant from the
Stronghold. Their boots showed scuff marks as if they had marched across the
map.

"Excellent!"
Delrael whispered.

"That would
impress even the old Sorcerer warlords," Vailret said.

"Now is the
time for all good men to come to the aid of their country," Journeyman
added.

Then a loud voice,
clear as the tone from a crystal bell, rang out from Delrael's silver belt.
"The Earthspirits are prepared for our final battle. We wish you
luck!"

Delrael stood
stunned and delighted. The others gawked at him, amazed.

He didn't want to
waste time thinking about it
―
they had to fight. Always have fun.
He felt filled with confidence.

Mindar held up her
rippled sword. "Let's go, before we lose our advantage of surprise."
Then she ran forward with a suicidal determination on her face. Vailret and
Journeyman moved side by side, and Sadic followed Delrael.

Weapons drawn,
armor adjusted, the illusion army surged into motion with a muffled clanking.
They kept ranks as they charged down the long slope toward the monster horde,
yelling personal battle cries. They left no footprints on the sand.

Delrael let himself
be hidden among the illusion soldiers. In true Game spirit he felt he should be
at the head of his fighters, leading the point of the charge like a great
general in the Sorcerer wars. But calling attention to himself would defeat the
entire purpose of creating the illusion army. He closed his eyes and took a
deep breath.

Scartaris's army
howled in confused surprise at the sudden appearance of this new force. They
dropped all preparations for their charge across Gamearth. The monsters still
outnumbered the illusion army
―
Bryl could only imagine and direct
so many soldiers
―
but it was enough to throw the enemy ranks into
turmoil. The two armies met.

Tall Slac troops
stormed together, pushing their way through the other monster warriors to the
front of the fighting line. Each Slac carried an iron sword and tough shield of
Tairan manufacture.

Delrael watched
other illusion soldiers struck down and trampled on the battlefield. So many of
them looked like
him
. It made him feel sick inside.

A tall Slac general
stood in his path, cloaked in a slick black garment that hung around him,
giving the reptilian arms freedom to maneuver. Platelike scales covered the
Slac's head. Its eyes were emerald green, glowing and pupilless. But one of the
illusion soldiers engaged the Slac, and Delrael slipped past.

The smell of smoke
and blood and churned-up dust bit into his nostrils, masking the lingering
stench of the close-pressed monster army.

He watched Mindar
dash about, slashing with her rippled sword. Her face was drawn back in a
furious expression, savoring her revenge on Scartaris. She struck one
pig-snouted monster down and turned to thrash at a swarm of green-skinned
goblins. The
S
-scar on her forehead glowed. The Slac ignored her and
concentrated on the advancing army.

Journeyman waded in,
swinging his clay fists from side to side and bowling over goblins. Swords bit
into his skin, but he repaired the damage by shoving his clay back into place.

Vailret swung his
short sword, but didn't seem to know what to do. He kept himself sheltered and
tried to remain by the golem. Since so many of the fighters looked alike,
Delrael had to look twice to make sure he had really seen Vailret and not an
illusion counterpart.

Near Delrael an
illusion fighter
―
himself, but with black hair and a beard
―
struck at a hunchbacked demon. The demon grunted without words and swung a
jagged pike up into the human fighter's stomach. Though it was only an illusion,
Delrael snarled as the fighter choked, bleeding from his mouth, and fell still
grasping the weapon stuck through him.

Delrael jumped in
and chopped down on the hunchbacked monster's neck.

The sword bit
through the knobbed, leathery skin. The monster tried to turn, but it still
thought
its pike was stuck in the dead illusion fighter and couldn't pull it
away. Delrael swung again, severing the cords in the monster's neck and
watching the head fall.

Battlefield sounds
roared around him. His ears were numb from the screams of monsters and human
fighters, the clang of weapons, the garbled shouting of orders from Slac
generals, cries of anger and confusion. He heard the booming of drums.

A mass of goblins
charged into the fray, scrabbling with sharp fingers.

They picked up
fallen weapons and broken sticks; two carried burning brands from abandoned
campfires. They made a thin jabbering as they piled on their victims, bringing
them down with the force of numbers.

Delrael heard a
haunting, buzzing sound with growls and cries and squawks that grew louder in
an approaching storm of noise. He held his sword out to defend himself and
looked behind him, up into the sky ― Poised like an axe over a chopping
block, the black cloud began to fall down on the battlefield.

It dissolved before
his eyes, breaking into nebulous pieces drifting down as the bottom portion,
filled with dim shapes, set upon the confusion of the battleground. He could
see that the cloud was not really black at all, but a garbled mass of colors
blended together. Thousands of unrelated noises smothered the battlefield din.

Then a bird flashed
in front of Delrael's eyes, darting forward at a hairy monster.

Dozens of biting
flies flew ahead of it; beetles hummed by. A cloud of butterflies spattered
themselves across the face of a demon. Tiny creatures filled the air. On the
ground, larger animals attacked, moving and working together.

The clear, ringing
voice of the Earthspirits spoke out from his silver belt. "Our
reinforcements have arrived." The words vibrated through to his bones.
"We sent out our own summons to living creatures across the map, but you
did not recognize it as such. They will help as best they can."

Delrael ran forward
in delight, remembering the disturbing screech his belt had made in the forest
by the Barrier River. "You could have let us know ahead of time."

The Earthspirits
made no reply.

A cloud of wasps
and flies fell upon one of the breeder groups of goblins, stinging again and
again. A gray wolf and a sharp-antlered stag charged among other demons. Beetles
and spiders covered their fur, but the little creatures jumped off and set upon
the monsters.

A black bear roared
and threw herself on a thin, oily-skinned demon.

The bear mauled at
the monster with spread claws while the demon defended itself with its own iron
sword. The bear ripped the demon's oily flesh to spill entrails that smoked in
the cool air.

Delrael continued
forward, setting his jaw. He slashed at several confused goblins, but he
concentrated on moving toward Scartaris. The mountain lair rose up across the
battlefield, on the other side of a hex-line.

Beside him, a
yellow bird took on a towering Slac, darting in and flapping at the monster's
face. The Slac lunged clumsily at it, smashing the air with balled, horny
fists. But the bird fluttered away, then flew in again to peck the emerald
eyes.

Hundreds of tiny
insects swarmed over a spine-covered creature, stinging its eyes, clogging its
ears and nostrils and mouth with their dead bodies. A frenzied Slac charged in
front of Delrael; its face was a black mass of crawling, biting beetles. It
waved its sword wildly in the air, stumbling, until a gray wolf knocked the
Slac to the ground and tore out its throat.

Explosions ripped
the air, throwing up dirt and flames and chunks of clay. Delrael wondered if
Scartaris's monsters used the same kind of firepowder that Tareah wanted for
her Transition Day festivities. Teams of monsters used groaning catapults to
lob clay pots of firepowder. The explosions only did more damage to Scartaris's
horde.

Delrael stopped and
realized that he had lost track of Vailret and the others. In the chaos around
him, all the soldiers looked alike. The animals and the demons fought on every
side of him. He couldn't shout into the din.

For an instant he
allowed himself to feel alone and frightened, then he swallowed his fear and
worked his way forward. He had to get the Earthspirits to Scartaris. Characters
always had to finish their quests, or die trying. It said so in
The Book of
Rules
.

Vailret struggled
to stay next to Journeyman. The golem charged ahead, smashing monstrous
soldiers and intent on his own goal. The illusion fighters moved about,
clashing, striking. Many wore an eerie reflection of Vailret's features. He
watched them fall, finding it very disturbing to watch himself die.

He held his sword,
but illusion soldiers engaged all monsters that came near him. He felt his mind
overloading with the terror of the battle. Sharp swords, knives, clawed hands,
spiked armor, terrible weapons
―
Vailret looked around, frantic,
but he had lost track of the
true

Delrael. He hoped
that one of those slaughtered victims wasn't his cousin.

"Journeyman! I
can't find Del!"

The golem paused
and turned. "I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date."

Journeyman knocked
a Slac general out of the way, punching the reptilian creature in the stomach,
then seizing the stout neck and snapping it sideways. The dead Slac stared at
Journeyman with an expression of astonishment.

Vailret hurried
after the golem. The mountain lair of Scartaris stood stark and clear; he could
only hope Delrael would meet him and Journeyman there.

To the left,
monsters lobbed pots of firepowder in bright explosions.

The animals and
insects massed around Vailret, swarming, but they attacked only the monsters.
Animal smells mixed with the stench of the demon army's long encampment.

Ahead, the
manticore stood tall over all the other monsters. With great leaps he charged
to the focus of the fighting. Indisciminately, the manticore slashed his own
soldiers out of the way. His giant paws mauled half a dozen goblins as he
pushed toward the illusion human fighters. The manticore's scorpion tail
flicked back and forth, striking each time with a blue flash and an explosion.

Vailret knew
stories about the manticores
―
it was said they were so powerful
that even their old Sorcerers creators could barely control them. And several
Sorcerers had died trying.

Vailret caught up
with Journeyman just as a stone gargoyle leaped in front of them. The ground
thudded as the heavy stone creature landed and spread its feet and jagged
wings, holding both cumbersome granite arms up to block their way. Demonic
horns curled up from the center of its forehead, but Arken's crudely formed
expression did not change. He had formed the same stone body for himself again.

"Go away, boy,
you bother me." Journeyman tried to pass by.

"Shall we have
a rematch, my friends?" Arken said. "Two out of three?"

Journeyman stopped
and grinned broadly. "Didn't you learn your lesson the first time?"

The gargoyle heaved
a rumbling sigh. "
I
learned my lesson, but apparently Scartaris has not.
Once again he has brought me back with explicit orders to stop you. Scartaris
is angry
―
he thinks I tricked him."

Arken seemed to
smile with his craggy stone face. "And of course we did. But this time he
has given me no freedom to decide for myself. I must stop you. I can't
bargain."

Journeyman stepped
forward. "We'll see about that."

Vailret remembered
how long and difficult their previous duel had been.

He knew he couldn't
defend himself for that long as the howling battle swirled around him.

Then he felt the
seed of an idea in his mind and grabbed at it. He stood between Journeyman and
Arken. "Wait, Arken! Scartaris gave you explicit, clear orders,
correct?"

"Yes."

"All right
then. We'll make it easy for you. Journeyman
―
stand still."
Vailret stood beside him, motionless. "There, you've stopped us. You have
fulfilled your obligation to Scartaris."