Death without Direction: A Modern Sword and Sorcery Serial (A Battleaxe and a Metal Arm Book 1), Samuel Fleming [ink book reader .txt] 📗

She turned it over in her hands, but could feel nothing that gave her that impression. On the backside, there were geometric ridges—purposeful, straight lines.

“Another stamp,” she mumbled.

Taunauk grunted in affirmation. “No pattern. Strange.”

“Purposeful,” Helesys corrected. Made to fit somewhere…. “It is a key.”

“Then we should hold onto it.”

A screech split the quiet of the flooded room. Both turned to the far corner, to where the water deepened in hue. Another borehole and more fishmen with spears and shields raised. And in the center of the deepest blue, five sets of black eyes stared back. Each eye large enough that Helesys could see the thin vertical slit within.

The fishmen had found another way in.

The elf smoothly stowed the wolf crest in a front pocket of her robe and felt the churning of energy in her arm. Breath caught in her throat.

~

One by one, each of the five heads broke the surface: Massive, reptilian, each topping a coiled-muscle neck. Up they rose, taller than them, taller than the elemental, twisting around each other like great serpents rising nearly to the edge of the gloom

Helesys watched, spellbound, and vaguely aware that Taunauk was motionless beside her. The thought of dragons crossed her mind until the shoulders and body broke the surface and she saw that all five necks converged on the same massive frame. The body was nearly as wide as the spaces between columns. The forelegs even thicker than the necks above. The giant creature was covered in sleek, orange-gold scales that seemed to barely contain the knots of muscles beneath them.

She had seen the gargantuan cage and the chains. She had heard the thunder of its footsteps. But nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming sight of it.

“By Movernus,” she whispered, not knowing which god she invoked. A feeling of dread washed over the elf, one that overshadowed even the monstrosity writhing in front of them. She knew what the creature was but…

“Hydra,” Taunauk sneered, giving a name to her dread. The five heads coiled and climbed over one another like snakes in a pit.

“We should run,” Helesys whispered. “We—”

“We should,” the barbarian said as he gripped his axe tight. “But we won’t make it. Not knee-deep in water.”

Helesys glanced at her comrade… She had seen the barbarian move and if he would not make it to the safety of the hallway then there was no way she would make it.

“You could make it,” Helesys corrected.

“The fishmen aren’t dumb—I will not die trapped in a hallway.”

That was the other half of the elf’s dread: The false-choice of escape. Even if they somehow outran the beast, certain death awaited them in the hallway. Taunauk was right.

Beside the five-headed reptile, a dozen fishmen chanted rhythmically and drew patterns in the air with their staffs. Though Helesys knew not the spell, she was sure that they were casting a spell and that they were chanting in unison.

Back in their first fight, one fishman had hexed the barbarian… What could a dozen do?

“I have a plan,” the elf said. “The fishmen are controlling the hydra.”

Helesys felt the churning of arcane torrent in her arm and prayed that the blast would stretch that far. Power churned. She raised her wand-arm—

—and with one decisive crash, the Hydra stepped to the side, shielding its masters from her sight. All five massive serpent heads ceased their twisting and stared at her with murderous purpose. Helesys, stared wide-eyed, directly at the beast.

“You are right,” Taunauk said. “Separate. Try for the weavers and if we fail, blast the columns and bring this cursed place down upon their heads. It will happen fast—”

—The slits in its eyes widened and all five mouths opened, each with hundreds of spear-thin teeth. A cacophony rang out from the beast: Part hiss, shriek and bellow.

The Hydra thundered forward, covering ten paces with every step. The water around their knees quivered with each impact. In the span of the second it took three steps and was halfway to them.

The nearest column to the elf was a dozen steps away but it might as well have been a mile. The elf turned and dove for the column, splashing chest first into the icy water.

Thundersteps shook the ground as Helesys sprawled in the water and pressed her back to the column. A single massive jaw, big enough to swallow her whole, clamped down to her right. The force shocked her—a split second slower and it would have had her.

One of the far heads screamed, a barbarian roared, and the body of the Hydra turned again with quaking steps. Her chance! Helesys spun toward the fishmen and felt the arcane power churn.

Instead of the fishmen, she saw a slab of orange scale nearly as tall as she was—the tail of the beast swinging and pushing a wall of water with it that blotted out the torchlight. Helesys ducked toward the column for shelter, and while the tail only brushed by the stone, the wall of water smacked her with incredible force. The elf was set flying by the impact of the wave and for a moment the world went black and silent and cold.

Helesys struggled in the churning water—trying to find the stones as she surged with the wave. Finally she found her footing and stood. Now she was in the middle, a dozen paces from any column—any salvation.

Meanwhile the barbarian roared and the beast’s thundersteps shook the stones beneath her feet. The Hydra was turned away from her, but still spinning. She watched each head descend out of view and heard each slap of teeth as each head in turn bit at her companion. Still the barbarian roared.

The Hydra spun in a ferocious display. The first of its heads turned toward her.

Helesys turned again toward the far corner, looking for the chanting fishmen. She could only see a few—two chanting—from where she was but she wouldn’t have the time to move. Not knee-deep in sloshing water. Her cannon whirred to life, filling with potential.

Thunder was