The Outcast (Summoner #4)(21)
“Another. Two of them. But not the same. Better stay in the trees,” he was muttering to himself, the lesson momentarily forgotten.
Kali’s eyes turned to the ground for the first time. Another orb, identical to the one floating in the center of the summoning room, hung in the air, spinning gently. It must have been what Kali had come out of, and would need to return to if she wanted to leave the ether.
They were above a large clearing of sorts, for the surrounding area was uneven, scattered with tangled branches and lichenous rocks. Yet within the vegetation, there was a disturbance, shaking the leaves as something made its way toward them. Though Arcturus could only see what was happening, he could imagine the sound of snapping twigs as a beast tore through the foliage.
To the other side, something even larger had almost reached the clearing, for Arcturus could see horns tearing at the undergrowth. Whatever it was, it was enormous, perhaps as tall as seven feet.
“There’s going to be a fight,” Fergus whispered, wrapping his arm around his little sister. Elaine ignored him, instead removing Valens from her pocket so he could watch.
A hairless, gangly creature emerged into the clearing. It was long limbed and skeletal, with elongated claws and splayed feet. It walked much like Kali did, though it was more hunched and bowlegged, with lengthy arms that knuckled the ground with every step.
Gnarled antlers branched from a heavy-browed forehead, above a snout somewhere between a horse’s and a wolf’s. Its black eyes scanned the ground ahead and it snorted gulps of air as it sought the scent of its opponent.
“A Wendigo,” Scipio whispered, his voice tinged with something between awe and horror. “I’ve never seen one in the wild. They’re rare in our hunting grounds; in fact, it’s virtually unheard of. Only the most powerful of orc shamans use them, and rarely. It has a fulfilment level of thirteen.”
Arcturus felt his stomach turn over, watching as the gray-skinned aberration edged around the orb. With just one leap, it could enter through the portal and into the summoning room.
“Sir, shouldn’t we get help? It … it might come through,” Arcturus stammered.
Scipio was sweating profusely now, his face gone from the red of exertion to the pale white of exhaustion. He responded to Arcturus without lifting his eyes from the Oculus.
“Don’t worry, boy. Wild demons don’t like to go near portals. It’s strange enough that the Wendigo would get that close at all. Must be starving, that’s why it’s wandered into our hunting grounds. Still, if it’s that desperate, we can’t risk sending Kali through until it’s gone. It might jump in after her.”
“Can you keep the portal open for long enough? How are your mana levels?” Prince Harold asked.
“If I can keep the flow of mana steady, maybe another ten minutes or so,” Scipio replied, watching as the second creature neared the clearing. “I exhausted most of my mana yesterday on the battlefield. If the worst happens, I may send in Kali when the Wendigo is distracted. Let’s see what the other demon is first.”
As Scipio finished speaking, the second creature erupted from the bushes with a throaty bellow. Yet when it saw the Wendigo, it began to back away, as if surprised to see it.
“Looks like it didn’t know what it was tracking,” Prince Harold said, leaning over the table to get a better view.
“Minotaur. Fulfilment level of eleven,” Rook breathed from beside Arcturus, his voice tinged with awe and longing. “My father has one of those.”
Arcturus examined the creature as the two demons circled each other. The Minotaur was an enormous beast, slightly taller than the Wendigo, but only because it walked upright instead of hunched over. It had a bull’s head, with red baleful eyes and a pair of long, curved horns that it lowered at its opponent.
Its frame was covered by a shaggy carpet of black fur over thick slabs of hard muscle. Even as Arcturus watched, the beast scored the ground with its hooves, preparing to charge, the hooked nails on its hands outstretched.
“That’s two demons that rarely show up in our hunting grounds,” Scipio said, thinking aloud. “It must be the Shrikes; they’re following them to eat their leftovers. But there’s not enough food for both of them.”
“They had better stop this showboating, if Kali’s going to get out in time,” Edmund muttered as the creatures continued to stare at each other, making mock charges. Then, as if spurred on by Edmund’s words, they met in a tangle of claws and teeth.
The Wendigo’s antlers locked with the Minotaur’s horns as they spun and circled, spitting and slashing at each other. It was immediately obvious that the Wendigo had the upper hand. The length of its arms allowed it to hack away at the Minotaur’s chest and shoulders, leaving deep, bloody scores in the flesh. Meanwhile, the Minotaur’s reach was too short; the antlers its horns were caught in kept it at a distance. Instead, the Minotaur snatched at the Wendigo’s wrists, until it finally managed to grasp them. They struggled on, straining against each other, as the Minotaur’s blood trickled into the tall grass.
“I’m going to make a break for it,” Scipio gasped as the pentacle began to crackle. The wooden boards were smoking now, as the unstable connection generated too much heat.
“Now!” he yelled.
Kali somersaulted from the tree, plunging toward the spinning portal. There was a brief image of the two predators, their eyes turning at the sudden arrival of the Felid. Then she was through, slamming into the floor below the summoning room portal. Scipio released the leather cable and collapsed. The orb shrunk into nothingness and the pentacle faded, leaving a smoking outline of charred wood. The room was cast in darkness as the wyrdlights winked out, one by one.