Michael Manning - The Archmage unbound

Something struck the back of my head like the blow of a forge hammer, sending me back down against the stone floor. Moira, help me! I cried mentally. Somehow I began rising to my feet again, though another hammer blow sent me reeling to one side. Celior was battering me with his fists now.

I can do nothing against the might of a god Mordecai, came Moira’s words in my mind.

Another strike sent me flying across the room to strike the wall, and yet again I started to rise up. Not me! Hide Penny. Take her away, through the stones if you must. Save her! My attention was fully engaged by Celior’s fists then.

Though his blows struck ever harder they seemed to hurt less. I was larger now, though Celior had kept pace with my growth. At a guess we both towered a full twenty feet above the floor now.

“You should stay down,” Celior’s voice told me. “You only delay the inevitable.”

His next blow swung toward my head but I was ready for him and this time I brought up my own arm to block it. Before he recovered I drove my other fist into his stomach. Without realizing it my hands had grown massive stony spikes and they pierced the shining god’s belly, spilling blood that looked like liquid gold upon the ground. “I am so tired of hearing that,” I replied in a voice that was reminiscent of the grating of two massive stones. “You’d think you would find some original threats during your eons of immortality.”

Celior stumbled back and then tried to counterattack. Ignoring his strikes I grabbed his head as he leaned in and jerking it downward I brought my massive stony knee up to meet it. With a crack like the sound of thunder I felt the bones in the shining god’s face break. Drawing his head back I repeated the motion, pulverizing what was left of Celior’s beautiful face. Then I reached down and grasped the limp god by the legs and swung him bodily into the wall.

Unfortunately I lost my grip on him at that point and he flew from my grasp. Despite the grievous injuries he recovered faster than I could reach him and leaping upward fiery wings sprung from his back. Several desperate wing beats sent him soaring above my head and through the ruined ceiling of the palace. That was not in the damn rulebook! I thought, cursing him mentally.

Taking advantage of my brief respite I scanned the area for my friends. Only Dorian was near, still lying unconscious in the stone rubble of one wall. Cyhan was almost out of the palace now, carrying Rose over one shoulder and Elaine over the other. Of Penny I could find no trace and I took that as a good sign.

I decided to get some fresh air. Raising my fist I demolished one wall and pushed my way through the rubble until I stood in one of the palace’s inner courtyards. Given the relative size of the dollhouse I was destroying I must have stood over forty feet tall at that point. As soon as I emerged from the fallen stone and timbers I discovered what Celior had been up to. A searing beam of pure sunlight bore down on me, burning into my stone skin.

Above me the god flew on his flaming wings, like some grotesque parody of a phoenix. He kept the light focused upon me and parts of my body began sloughing away like bubbling magma. Even in my rocky form I began to experience a sensation that my human self might have labeled pain and I tried to shield myself with my arms to no avail.

Drawing upon my magic I sent a bolt of pure force at my antagonist but the distance and his maneuverability made it impossible to hit him. “Fool!” Celior screamed down at me. “Your power cannot last, but mine is eternal.”

I was beginning to think he might have a point. As his assault continued it was becoming more and more difficult to reconstruct my body and even my thoughts were growing sluggish. The more power I drew from the earth the less I cared. I was beginning to forget myself. If I could just get my hands on that glowing bastard, I thought desperately.

A shadow crossed the sun and in the distance I saw something impossible. It was too far for my magesight, but my stony eyes could see what appeared to be a huge bird diving from the sky, down toward Celior. Apparently the god sensed something as well, for he broke off his laughter and glanced up and behind himself in alarm. His measured wing beats became frantic strokes as he tried to gain speed and altitude, but it was far too late. The bird… no it was a dragon, had far too much speed already from its dive.

It struck him with such force that they both plummeted from the sky and Celior was driven into the street beside the palace. The ground shook and the dragon tore at the god’s body, ripping into his belly. For a moment I was still, staring on in complete shock. Could that be Gareth Gaelyn? According to the story Moira had told me dragons were the stuff of myth and fairy tale. The only one that had ever existed was the result of an archmage gone mad and that was over a thousand years ago. He had also slaughtered his own people.

The dragon was at least a hundred feet in length from nose to tail and armored in glistening grey-black scales. His body was sleek and streamlined yet as he moved I could see powerful muscles rippling under his skin. The dragon’s wings were folded tightly against his body now that he was down on the ground, but they had been vast when they were unfurled a moment before. He held Celior with his jaws and two powerful forelimbs while his rear legs clawed and tore at the shining god.

Not knowing what else to do I started running to reach them, at least I tried to run. I quickly discovered that my size prohibited such activities and I was forced to proceed at a hurried lumbering gait. I still covered much more ground than I could have in my normal human form.

Even as I neared them Celior recovered his balance and twisted free of the dragon’s grip. Rolling the two of them fought on the ground like two drunken brawlers. If drunks had scales, wings, and glowed… I thought. Celior had the advantage now, using the weight of his body to press the dragon into the crater they had formed while his hands attempted to rip the beast’s head from its neck. The deity’s wounds had already vanished and his beauty was horrible to watch as he began to exert himself, pulling the dragon’s head inexorably upward.

How do you kill something that heals instantly? I wondered. My anger had faded somewhat, slowly being replaced by fear. Despite everything, Celior seemed more powerful than ever and there were no signs of him weakening.

I had little time for thinking, since it appeared my only ally was about to lose his head. Diving into the fray I wrapped the shining god in my arms and squeezed. Laughing Celior began glowing brighter than the sun and I felt my body beginning to melt and sag where it touched him. I couldn’t afford to let him get airborne again, so I did the opposite.

“Let’s see how you like the center of my power,” I ground out between granite teeth and I redoubled my efforts. Contracting my arms I felt his back break and the god twisted in pain. Stretching outward with my thoughts I let my body sink downward, into the ground, dragging the struggling deity with me. Sorry Penny, I thought with regret. I couldn’t keep that promise Rose wanted me to make for you.

Ever deeper we went and still I clutched Celior tightly. I could feel him weakening now, or perhaps it was just my growing strength, but I was able to encase him in the massive stone coffin that my body had become for him. Moira Centyr had defeated Balinthor this way, I remembered. She had drawn him down and when her power had been great enough she had crushed him to death. The resulting explosion had changed the face of the earth and created a new sea.

That will kill everyone above for tens of miles, came Moira’s voice in my mind.

How close is Penny?