Alek went from man to tiger in a blink beside me. Yosemite shouted at me to run for the trees, but he had his feet set like he was preparing for a fight, so I said fuck that and summoned magic, bracing myself as well.
The rock monster bounded closer. It looked like something dreamed up by the artists of Shadow of the Colossus only without the pretty green mossy bits or the shiny scrolly bits. Instead it had cracks between plates of grey stone that gleamed with dull red light. It was shaped like a rhino crossed with a turtle and a bit of insect thrown in, its six legs stumpy but apparently effective in moving its bulk. Its head was huge with thick horns protruding from the sides like a bull's and a round nose like the head of a hammer. If it had eyes, I couldn't make them out at this distance.
Distance that was quickly going away. Yosmite shouted in Old Irish and vines burst up from the ground, wrapping around the rock beast's legs. They might have been made of dental floss for all the care it took of them. The vines fell away, snapping like Silly String, with no effect.
"The earth here is too sick," Yosemite gasped out, sweating beading on his forehead. "It cannot fight properly."
"Maybe we should move," I said. I didn't think a fireball was going to do much to that thing. It definitely looked like it was made of rock.
"Trees," the druid said.
The three of us turned and bolted for the forest, but it was clear from the shaking of the ground that we weren't going to make it. I veered at a ninety-degree angle and dove painfully over a chunk of rock as the beast reached us, its huge head sweeping side to side as it reared back and tried to stomp on Alek. Tiger-Alek leapt for its face, knifelike claws extended. He didn't even scratch the surface, and the beast threw its head around until he was forced to leap free. He landed with a rolling skid and regained his feet, a deep roar coughing from him as he retreated and circled toward me.
I aimed bolts of force at the dull red cracks in the stone, hoping that would be a weak point. No dice. My bolts sizzled, fizzled, and did little more than attract the creature's attention. It bellowed again and backed off, pawing at the ground.
We ran for the trees again, putting distance between the beast and ourselves. The dead forest would provide little coverage, but little was better than none.
I stumbled into the treeline next to Yosemite and looked at the druid.
"How do we stop that thing?"
"I have no idea," he said. "Drop trees on it?"
"Can you do that?"
"In another part of the forest, perhaps. Here, there is not enough life to answer my call," he said, shaking his head. "This was one of the guards set long ago. But something is wrong with it. She will not heed my call; she is no longer tied to the land."
The beast shook itself and oriented toward us, pawing the earth, sending grass, topsoil, and chunks of shale flying. It was going to charge again.
"Like something out of a freaking anime," I muttered, trying to figure out how to stop it. Transmute rock to mud? It was an oldie but goodie from the Dungeons & Dragons spell book, but I wasn't sure I could pull it off, not without that thing holding still so I could concentrate. "Wish we could summon Goku." Never a Super Saiyan when you needed one.
Or was there? I stood up straighter as the beast pawed the earth again. Tess had said we had specialties, right? She thought mine was elemental magic, but I knew that wasn't really the case. I was best when it came to throwing around lots of raw power. I had been training all summer to gain more finesse, more control, to do more with less. Shoring up the areas I was weak more than trying to strengthen the things I was good at. Maybe I'd been going about it all wrong.
"Get behind me," I shouted as the ground shook and the beast charged.
I pulled power into myself, grabbing at every shred I could summon and hold without losing concentration. I slid my left foot forward and thrust my arms out behind me, focusing all that energy into a ball between my hands.
Yosemite and Alek moved, retreating further into the trees. Smart men.
The beast wasn't so smart. It crashed toward me like a wrecking ball. What happens when an irresistible force meets an immoveable object? I had no idea why that popped into my head, but I went with the thought, pouring every ounce of strength and belief in my own irresistible power. I waited until the stone beast was almost to me and then…
"KAMEHAMEHA," I screamed. I threw my hands in front of me, unleashing the beam of pure force right the beast's ugly face.
The beam exploded into the beast, lifting it completely off its feet and rolling it up like a potato bug before flinging it back along the ground like an out-of-control, off-balance bowling ball. I had to turn my head away from the sudden gritty wind that erupted as debris flew into the air in its path.
Rubbing my eyes with my shirtsleeve, I peered out of the trees and down the deep furrow the rolling beast had left. It lay, unmoving, about two hundred yards away, half buried in the side of the valley. I reached for more power and stumbled toward it.
Up close it smelled like ash and rot. The beast wasn't dead, its side rose and fell very slowly, but its chest was caved in and rust-colored ichor leaked out, too thick to look like proper blood. I really didn't want to touch it, but I couldn't have pulled off another giant spell if my life had depended on it.
Gripping my d20 for focus, I pictured what I wanted to do, and laid my hand on its bulbous nose. The beast snorted, dull red nostrils opening and closing as fetid smoke gushed forth. I choked and hacked as my eyes watered, but kept my hand where it was.
Rock to mud. I couldn't remember all the details of the spell, though I knew there was something in there about not working on magical stone. Fuck that, because the manual wasn't a spell book, not in reality. In reality, I just needed to have the power and the belief I could do it.
At that moment, I believed I could do anything. I'd just cast Kamehameha, or Turtle Devastation Wave, as translated from the Japanese. It had seemed appropriate, given the way this beast looked. Super effective, if utterly exhausting.
I pressed power down into its rocky skin through my hand. The magic animating it was inky and black, just like the corruption I'd burned out of the unicorn. Clyde, if I had to guess. My power sank in and the stone bent to my will, softening, cracking, turning to black, sludgy mud and finally splitting and sliding away in huge chunks. Rust-colored smoke gushed from the melting head and I held my breath, keeping my magic sinking into the sludge beneath my palm until the creature stopped breathing.
Stumbling back, I spat to try to clear the filth from my mouth, and then gasped in mostly fresh air. Alek, back in human form, was there to catch me as I collapsed. This time, I didn't even resist as he lifted me into his arms. I buried my head in his chest and let exhaustion take me away.
I came awake tucked against Alek's side. It was nearly dark, the moon rising above the rim of the valley. He'd brought me back up to the top and we were tucked against a large rock.
"Didn't want to camp down in the valley of death?" I asked.
"Not safe," Alek said. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I just stopped a freight train with my face," I said. My mouth tasted of smoke and sour beer and my eyes were gritty when I rubbed them. I took the water Alek offered and tried to drink slowly.
"Where's the druid?" I asked, looking around.
"Valley," Alek said. "He went to check on the head."
"Hope there aren't any more of those stone turtle things."
"He says there are two others."
"Great," I muttered. "Can we fight them tomorrow? Because I don't think I can do that twice."
Alek's smile flashed white in the gloom. "Whatever that was, it was impressive."
This was what I got for falling for a non-nerd. Harper or Levi or Ezee would have been gushing with glee over what I had done. They'd be talking about it for months. I just hoped they'd believe me, but there was no way it would be as cool when I told it as it would have been if they had witnessed it, damnit.
"Gee, thanks," I said, knowing he'd see my eye-roll with his much better low-light vision. "We got any more of those power bars left?"
Yosemite returned sometime in the night, long after I'd drifted back to sleep. I awoke with the sun and he was there, wide awake, watching the sun rise over the ridge. The air was cool, and the wilderness quiet as a grave. No morning birds sang.
"What's the story?" I asked the druid.
"I cannot get to Balor's head. There are two more guardians in the way, camping directly over the burial mound, plus I sense a pack of Fomoire hounds nearby and coming closer. I am not sure it would matter, in any case. I cannot close the lids." He rubbed his hand over his face, looking older and utterly tired.
"So we gather up the gang, bring as much firepower as we can muster, and come lay down the hurt," I said. I was not looking forward to fighting two more of those rock monsters, or another pack of hounds, but what choice did we have? I hoped that with Tess's help, maybe I could track Clyde and put a stop to his shit as well.
Of course, I might not have to. If I ruined his little Balor party, he would probably come to me. I was his end goal, after all.
"Did you not hear me?" Yosemite said. "I cannot close the lids. I cannot purge the land. It is too late—even if we stop this sorcerer polluting and twisting the spirits of the forest, I do not have the knowledge to close the eye."
"Who does?" I asked. "I mean, the druids gave you this head but didn't teach you how to stop it if something happened?"
"Jade," Alek said softly in that tone he used when I was being a bitch.
Yosemite waved his hand in an "it's okay" gesture, quieting Alek.
"There is a ritual. There were once many rituals, most lost to time now. But some, the most important, were written down by the druid who trained me. He had three copies of the book made. So far as I know, only one has survived the centuries."
"Great," I said. "So we can do the ritual and stop this. Where is the book? Ireland? Buried inside a glass mountain and guarded by a fox with nine tails? I'm up for a quest." I smiled at him, trying to bring some lightness to his grim, unhappy face.
I failed.
"Seattle," he said. "But it doesn't matter. I cannot read it."
"Seattle?" That was only an eight-hour drive away. "Why can't you read it?"
"My teacher wrote it in an ancient script, known only to a few. He meant to teach me the letters, but he was killed before he had a chance. His knowledge died with him, for he was the last who knew the secret tongue."
"Okay, let me get this right. There is a ritual in a book in Seattle that can close Balor's Eye and stop this?"
"Yes, and also I think a ritual that will wake the soul of the wilderness here and cleanse the land. But as I said, it doesn't matter." He got to his feet and turned away from us, his face lifting to catch the first rays of the morning sun. His cheeks above his thick red beard were suspiciously damp.
I looked at Alek and watched as comprehension dawned on his handsome face. He smiled, and I returned it, brushing my fingers over his. He squeezed my hand and then let go.
"So if you could read the ritual, or rituals, we could fix all this?" I got to my feet and waved my hand at the valley below.
Yosemite rounded on me and snorted in frustration. "Yes," he said. He closed his mouth on whatever he was about to follow that with, looking down into my smiling face.
"Cool," I said. "Because I can read any language. It's kind of my superpower."
"Any language?" He blinked at me.
"Yep, so far as I know." I could tell he was skeptical, so I took a deep breath. I wasn't fond of talking about Samir, but it was getting slowly easier to share. "It's how I found out my psycho ex was going to kill me. He keeps journals, written in a mix of dead languages and some words he's made up all on his own, I think. He believed that no one could ever decipher them. He was wrong. So I'm pretty sure I could read your book."
Yosemite pursed his lips and folded his arms. After a long moment he nodded. "What have we to lose?" he said.
Howling broke the morning silence. It sounded distant, but not distant enough for my taste. I started stuffing my sleeping bag into its sack as quick as I could. Alek rose to his feet, sniffing at the air.
"Let's get out of here," he said. "They are closer than they are letting on."
"We shall find healthy trees," Yosemite said. "Then I can open the leaf-way to get us back to the Henhouse."
"Not that again," Alek said with a grimace.
"We can't waste another day, not when we must travel to Seattle and lose time already. The forest sickens; the land will die permanently if we delay too long. We must move with haste now."
"Tree travel it is," Alek said with a resigned sigh.
"How bad can it be?" I asked as we took off over the ridge. Famous last words, right?