A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(55)
“We’ll see how that goes,” I replied, lifting the whistle out of my collar. Wolff’s eyebrows lifted in amazement, or perhaps horror.
“You always were mad.” He sounded admiring.
I flew back down to Blackwood, who was watching the water glasses with a nervous eye. As I got into formation beside him, I mentally readied myself for Callax’s attack.
The Child Eater, a twenty-foot-tall troll, had plagued the western end of the country for the last two years. He was phenomenal at smashing everything in his way, leveling entire villages. He’d attacked London before, of course, but that was back when we had our ward. Luckily, he couldn’t fly, he’d no psychic abilities, and he couldn’t breathe fire. But his strength was unequaled, and there was a possibility that the sheer power of his fists could smash the wards and barrier. If that happened, we would have to pray that our powers would be enough to stop him.
Callax was also responsible for Lilly’s family’s deaths. He’d killed her parents before carrying off her little sisters. It was said he liked to ferry the children he captured away to some cave and eat them later at his pleasure, picking his teeth with their bones. My skin went hot. He wouldn’t break through to London today. I’d see to that.
Magnus and Dee arrived and got into position behind me, Magnus with swords strapped to his hips, Dee with the flute snuck under his coat. They both did their best to keep out of Valens’s line of sight.
“Lovely day for possible death and dismemberment,” Magnus said conversationally, passing Blackwood a sword of his own.
I would have teased him back, but the ground vibrated beneath our feet. My mouth felt dry as cotton as squadron leaders blew their whistles, signaling for us to prepare.
Two sorcerers—the head water-masters—focused the scrying glasses. We four watched as a great, hulking form appeared. The beast’s snorts and grunts carried all the way to where we stood.
Callax was a massive creature with a humped spine and long, muscled arms that ended in boulder-shaped fists. Moss-colored patches of diseased skin speckled his torso. His jaw jutted forward, broken yellow teeth protruding. Drool hung in ropes from his open mouth. His eyes were small and deep-set, his head bald and smooth as an egg. Long, pointed ears fanned out to catch every sound.
The thing huffed and then began pounding his fists upon the ground, faster and faster. Boom. Boom. Boom. My toes curled in my boots, and I slipped my shaking hand around the dagger’s hilt.
With a full-blooded roar, Callax barreled toward the barrier and us, his head down, going faster than such a large monster should have been able to move. Every thundering step reverberated in my bones. Closer. Closer. I could see his flaring nostrils, the hateful glint in his eyes. When he crashed into the barrier, he was going to send all the warders along its edge careening to the ground.
“First shot,” Valens cried. He raised his stave in the air and slashed it in three quick movements, shorthand for an earth attack, quicksand. “Begin in twenty paces.”
We counted down the monster’s strides as he prepared to bulldoze us. On Valens’s signal, we all struck our staves to the earth as one. I watched in the water glass as the ground opened beneath Callax, dissolving from stone to sand in one instant. He sank to his waist, clawing at the ground so as not to be sucked away.
Perhaps we could simply harden the sand and trap him there. But with a great, savage cry, he pulled himself out of the pit too quickly for us to stop him.
Valens, undeterred, signaled to the sky above. The purpling clouds swelled and twisted as we turned our staves upward, making five short, sharp movements that rather resembled a lopsided star. Lightning speared from the sky, striking the monster. Callax retreated a few steps, snorting and slamming his giant fists again in rapid succession, boom boom boom.
As we prepared for another maneuver, the Child Eater sprang forward and slammed into the barrier. His hand reached over the top and was repelled by one of the warders. But he banged again and again into the thorny wall, and it began to weaken and shred. Leaves, thorns, and flowers littered the ground. One of the warders plummeted with a scream.
R’hlem was testing it, as Blackwood had said. He was proving how weak it—and we—were.
The four of us knew what to do without having to be told. The boys grouped around me, and together we watched as the wall before us trembled with Callax’s pummeling. Dee placed his hand on my arm. Magnus gripped Dee’s shoulder. Blackwood’s hand found mine for one brief instant. We were all beyond words now. Well, not all of us.
“If I should die today,” Magnus said solemnly, “I only hope that Blackwood goes first.”
Together, as a unit, we summoned wind and flew over the barrier, over the heads of the shocked warders, to stand on the other side.
Landing less than ten feet from the monster, I had an idea of how one felt entering a lion’s den. Callax ceased striking at the great wall of thorns, his upturned nostrils quivering as he caught our scent. A thick gray tongue licked his lips in anticipation.
I threw balls of flame at him to draw his attention further. Callax bellowed as my fire scorched his legs, but he recovered quickly. I saw what Mickelmas had meant about a thick hide. I sheathed my dagger and unhooked the whip from my belt.
“Come fight, you great ugly pudding!” I shouted.
“Don’t insult the monsters,” Magnus said. “They take it personally.”