Chapter 16: Blitzkrieg: Part One

  Kali knew she was probably grinning like a shark that had just spotted something fat and helpless flailing in the water, but she couldn’t really help it.

  All members of their little group, even the new kid, were currently held inside one of Joan’s light bubbles, with a few glowing symbols denoting where Athena was working to keep them concealed. They hovered nearly a kilometre up in the sky, looking down at the spot where the tracking spell indicated the Hunt was resting. Off to the side, the sun was dipping below the horizon, only a red sliver of it left.

  This was important. The Wild Hunt were creatures of the night, and as long as day persisted they were little more than shadows, unable to harm others, but all but untouchable in return. Day began as soon as a sliver of the sun showed itself, and night began when the last of the sun’s face fell beneath the horizon. That was a rule that governed the world of magic, of the beings that lived by the cycles of day and night.

  And now Kali could see that rule come into effect as below them, in a natural valley where several fields met the edge of a small forest, the shadows began to seethe.

  Watching the Hunt emerge into the world was a strange sight. Kali had faced all manner of Rakshasa, Ashura and even her fellow gods, and had seen all manner of strange sights. She had seen demons born from blood, spirits coalescing from nothing more than accumulated grudges, had seen beasts being created by the power of a god’s wrath. She had even once seen a frenzy of demons cannibalising each other, merging through rabid consumption of each other until only one composite being remained. Still, even with all that in her memories what she saw was still . . . unsettling.

  Maybe it was a reminder of her recent life as a mortal, maybe it was simply that she had rarely seen shadow manipulation on such a scale, but it still caused her eyes to narrow.

  Shadows were a part of life, a constant companion, an accompaniment to light. They were so ubiquitous that few people ever really thought about them. They were cast by furniture, plants, other people. They could be the huge shadows of clouds that blotted out the sky, or they could be as humble as the shade cast by a single blade of grass. They were everywhere.

  But what did you do if you saw a shadow, but nothing was casting it?

  That was what she saw below her, a sea of shadows that moved independently. They somehow rose from the ground, growing darker and thicker as they did. It just looked . . . wrong.

  Well, she’d soon be doing something about it!

  To her side, Kali could feel Adam gathering magic, even as bright energy condensed between Joan’s hands. Athena had drawn her spear and shield, Hadriel had brought out both her oversized swords and was coating them in a crackling aura of divine lighting while Lancelot had drawn his own sword as he glared down at the Hunt below them.

  Everyone knew the plan and tension filled the air. It wouldn’t take long for the Wild Hunt to notice them, but they didn’t need too long.

  A single word from Adam was the signal they’d been waiting for. And Kali felt her grin widen as she heard it.

  “Blitzkrieg.”

  Joan’s bubble disappeared and the Hindu goddess, Athena, the new kid, and Lancelot fell like stones. The young demigod moved off to the side, his trajectory controlled by Adam’s magic to come down at the far edge of where the Hunt was manifesting. As for the rest of them . . .

  Each of them had ways of travelling through the air when needed, but they didn’t use any of them. Instead, they let gravity do its work, pulling them down as each of them readied their powers.

  Kali felt the wind whipping at her long locks and braids, but her eyes remained fixed on the figure she’d seen amidst the emerging forms. That old woman! The one that had taken her by surprise, who had kept her on her back foot, who kept her out of the fight!

  Payback time.

  “Ha ha hahaaah! BLITZKRIEG!!!”

  Hey, it was as good a war cry as any other.

  Kali’s target just had time to look up in shock before the goddess came crashing down. Sadly, the goddess of destruction hadn’t been able to smash directly into her target, missing her by a few feet. Kali didn’t possess any true flight abilities, meaning that her ability to manipulate her fall was limited. However, she was damned near close to invulnerable and could at least speed up her fall. The results were . . . impressive.

  She hit the ground like a descending meteor, the land cratering beneath her and a shockwave like a bomb going off spreading from her point of impact. Around her bolts of lightning and beams of searing light rained down, as Athena and Lancelot slammed down as well. Their landings were less forceful than her own, but by no means gentle. Arondight chopped one foe in two while Athena’s spear skewered her own target with such force his chest exploded! The next instant both of them were moving again, cutting and stabbing their way through anything close enough to reach.

  Kali didn’t hesitate either, even before the shockwave of her landing had finished dispersing she was on her feet charging at the old woman. The wielder of fire and ice barely had enough time to recover her scattered wits before the goddess's fist slammed into the side of her head, every bit of her divine strength behind the blow.

  The Hunter's entire body from the waist up vanished, reduced to a spray of bloody mist, and another shockwave rippled out from her, sending more of the Hunt flying as though hit by a hurricane. Kali grinned wildly and released a burst of Destruction to follow after the shockwave, adding further damage as skin, limbs and weapons were reduced to nothing before her power of annihilation.

  She knew it was only temporary, that the power of the Wild Hunt would bring back all who died and repair all injuries, but damn did it feel good just to cut loose for once.

  All around her chaos erupted as her allies also went wild, tearing into the Hunt with any means at their disposal. Cries of anger and pain mixed with the sound of energy sizzling through the air and the earth being torn up. It was chaos, it was bedlam!

  Oh, how she’d missed this!

  “Oh yeah, Adam,” She muttered under her breath as she grabbed a vampire that had leapt at her out of the air and then tore his head off. “You know how to show a girl a good time.”

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  It was the explosion that caught his attention, after all, it was rather hard to miss.

  The smart thing to do would have been to keep driving, the problem with that was that it would have taken him closer to the explosion. Not the smartest move. The smartest move would have been to stop, turn around, and drive away from it as fast as he could.

  However . . . Alain Dubois had never been the most sensible guy in the world.

  He was the kind of guy that enjoyed surfing, rock climbing and cave diving. He loved the adrenaline he got from being on the edge, from feeling the wave curling in behind him, from feeling the yawning gap beneath him, from knowing it was only his skill, training and luck that kept him alive. He wasn’t suicidal, he used the right equipment, made sure it was cared for, and kept himself in shape. But he was also always looking for that little bit more; a sheerer cliff, a bigger wave, a deeper cave, always a bit more to give that sweeter rush.

  That might explain why, rather than getting the hell out of there, he pulled over and proceeded on foot.

  The explosion had come from just over the incline before him, Alain knew it well, after all, he drove this route at least twice a week. He was near the crest of the hill, from there was just a gentle downward slope past a natural valley. Nothing but fields and woodland there. Picturesque, but nothing truly spectacular. He could make it to the top easily enough, then he could look down and see what was happening. If he needed to he could run back to the car, it was all downhill and he was in good shape, it would take him next to no time.

  The darkening sky was lit up by more flashes, some bright white, others oranges, blue, even violet! Sounds he wasn’t familiar with also resounded, roars, explosions, electric crackling, earthshaking thuds. Noah licked his suddenly dry lips as he crested the hill and looked down.

  What he saw was a warzone out of a fantasy film. Without really thinking about it he reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone.

  Over the years he’d gotten into a habit of recording what he could of his own experiences and those of others who enjoyed extreme sports. White water rafting, skydiving, or base jumping, he’d recorded them all and then put them up on various social media, ending up with a decent following and plenty of hits. Now, as he saw the sight laid out before him, he couldn’t help but reach for his device and start recording all he could!

  This was the latest smartphone released from Olympus Industries. It was expensive as hell, almost half as much as a decent motorcycle, but he couldn’t deny that he got his money’s worth out of it. This was one of the few pieces of mass-produced magitech out on the market. Magic you put in your pocket and use at the tap of a key. Sure, it couldn’t throw fireballs or turn people into frogs, but it had plenty of more practical properties.

  First off, it was as close to indestructible as it got. That’d been proven on ThruTube videos with stuff like sledgehammers and blowtorches. Secondly, it never lost its connection. NEVER. You could use it in the middle of a nuclear war shelter fitted with a Faraday cage and you’d still have all your bars. Thirdly, the thing's memory was absurd, quintillions of bytes. You could run a whole company on a single handheld unit if you wanted. There were also a whole bunch of other smaller features, better graphics, better interface, better operating system, plus a feature that came into play now.

  Even though he was a couple of miles away, his position at the top of the hill was working in his favour. The camera of his Olympus Smartphone brought the scene blow him into crystal clear, perfectly illuminated, focus. It didn’t matter how far he was, it didn’t matter that night was falling, the magically enhanced camera made sure he could record it all!

  He saw angels darting around, he was massive plants erupt from the ground, he saw an army emerge from the shadows, he saw a freaking DRAGON spread its wings and breath a jet of fire into the sky, only for it to be blocked by an almost invisible shield!

  Moving on instinct he connected to all his accounts and started to livestream what he was seeing.

  He knew this was dangerous, that even though he might be far away it was all too easy for the fight to roll towards him, and then roll over him, but he didn’t care. His heart was pounding, adrenaline was singing in his veins, and sweat prickled the back of his neck.

  He lived for this kind of rush!

  Oh, and he was going to get so many hits out of this!

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  Brambles as thick as my legs, and lined with thorns like small daggers, exploded out of the ground and wrapped around everything nearby like some sort of tentacled monster erupting from the ocean. Hunters screamed as the serrated vines wrapped around them, pinning them in place as the barbs dug into their bodies. As a final insult fat blackberries almost as big as my head started to grow from the brambles, each berry the colour of the blood the thorns were spilling.

  To the side a tree, seemingly made of green blades, reached up to the darkening sky with at least a dozen forms impaled upon it. Those forms twitched and began dissolving back into shadows. The Monkey Puzzle Tree normally looked pretty fearsome, sort of the unholy spawn of a pine tree and a cactus, but when its growth and nature were enhanced and empowered by my magic . . . Well, I believe that the term ‘corpse tree’ wouldn’t have been inaccurate.

  More screams came from another direction, where another botanical monstrosity was making more Hunters suffer. This wasn’t as large as the sprawling bramble, but in some ways, it was even more vicious. Thinner vines with larger thorns wrapped around their victims and each other to create inescapable restraints lined with vicious spikes, tortured mummies hanging amongst beautiful flowers as the monstrous rosebush spread.

  All in all, it was a nightmare for them. The Wild Hunt was divided, the mutated plants acting as barriers to keep them apart even as they reaped more victims. Even worse, the brambles and the rose bush were trapping their victims, immobilising them rather than killing them. Trapped as they were, they were out of the fight, at least for now, their precious immortality doing them little good when they couldn’t get away. Cries of pain and frustration filled the night as the plants kept growing and the Hunt scattered, running from thorned vines and blades of green.

  Honestly, it had all turned out better than I’d expected.

  It was an idea I’d come up with after fighting Etienne. During that fight, I’d only survived because I pumped a bramble bush next to me with all the power I could muster. It had saved my life, and I’d been trying to think of how I could use a similar strategy if I ever needed to. The seeds I’d bought from the garden centre had been the first step, not just brambles but other plants that looked like they could be dangerous. As my opening attack, I stuffed as much vibrant green plant magic as I could into the seeds, wrapped them in the toughest TK shell I could, and then fired the whole thing down at the hunt with all the force I could muster. The impact was like a small bomb going off, but the real damage came when the scattered seeds took root. Not as many of them as I’d have liked, but just one of each was enough to cause plenty of havoc.

  Now I just had to add some more chaos to the mix.

  White and blue energy gathered in my hands as I drew on the power of ice. My halo chimed, a single surprisingly deep note as it strengthened me further, then I released it!

  I’d spotted Herne below me, his imposing figure and those horns standing out easily. Out of all the Hunt, he was the one I was probably the most familiar with. Fighting him with Mato had let us see lots of his powers, so I thought I had a good idea of how to deal with him.

  Just like with my magically boosted plants I was going for restraint and containment rather than damage. Damage he could heal from, suddenly finding himself stuck inside a giant multi-ton ice cube would be harder to deal with, or so I hoped.

  “You . . . !”

  I didn’t even wait to hear the rest of the exclamation, fire just roared out of my arm as I swiped at the oncoming Naga, flames so hot that they were orange-edged with white. The Hunter’s words turned into a scream as he went up as though soaked in oil. Part of me felt that I should have hesitated, recoiling from not simply the violence, but the sheer viciousness of what I was doing. I clamped down on that feeling though, burying it as I saw a pack of black hounds charging me. More magic poured out, this time in the form of electricity, arcs of lightning hitting the pack leader, then arcing and jumping to the nearby hounds, and from them on to others. The whimpers of pain from their crumpled forms were heartbreaking, but I didn’t stop.

  I couldn’t. This was the plan I’d green-lit, I couldn’t hesitate now.

  Athena was the one who’d come up with the main meat of what we were doing, she’d been the most knowledgeable about the Wild Hunt after all. The way she described, it the immortality of the Hunt was like a massive reservoir of power that was connected to every member. They all drew on it, but they also all replenished it, linking the Hunt in a powerful and unique way. In theory, if their numbers grew enough, and their members were strong enough, then they would be invincible.

  There were weaknesses though, such as the Hunt not being able to spread out too much without the main pool of power breaking down into smaller pools for separate groups. Another was the one we were trying to exploit, namely that a pool could be overdrawn.

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  Immortality was a frightening power, but it was also a costly one. The pool of the Wild Hunts collective might was huge, but not unlimited. That was what we were going for, at least in part, pure quantity drainage. We were hitting the Hunt hard and fast as we could, forcing as many of them to heal and resurrect at once as possible. Every one of them drained the pool, and so many of them were hurting that few were replenishing it. On top of that were the ones I’d caught in my plants, members of the Hunt that were constantly drawing on the pool as they tried to heal around thorns and spines that wouldn’t budge.

  Of course, that wasn’t all we were going for, draining the pool was doable but difficult with our limited numbers. Our initial attack had caused chaos and damage, but it was unlikely to completely drain the collective reserve unless everything went completely our way. And that was unlikely, to say the least.

  That was why we had a secondary aim, not to simply drain the pool, but also to break the system!

  The Wild Hunt wasn’t invincible. For all their tricks and powers they had been beaten before. Athena theorised that if they took enough damage fast enough then their system of shared power couldn’t cope and would short out as too many members drew on it rather than contributing.

  That was what we were going for, a short out of their support system. It made me feel a bit like a hacker on the internet when we thought of it, but now . . .

  A centaur stumbled out of the smoke that was starting to fill the night air, and I didn’t hesitate. A telekinetic bolt slammed into his side, sending him flying into the huge rosebush. The man-horse barely had time to scream before vines and thorns wrapped around him as the plant continued to grow. Another captive, another drain on the Hunt’s collective power.

  A furious roar shook the darkening sky as a huge form moved through the smoke and dust. Wings spread and scattered the clouds, footfalls shook the earth and eyes flashed with barely contained rage. The dragon, Loraxis.

  Okay, the heavyweight portion of the battle had begun.

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  The dragon roared and Lancelot prepared.

  The plan, in so far as there was one, had him as the main counter to the beast. It made sense, Arondight was a dragon-slaying blade and he was a dragon slayer, these qualities had seeped into his legend, and under the power of Arthur, his legend had become his new flesh with his resurrection. His body naturally resisted the attacks of a dragon beyond what should have been possible, Arondight bit through the scales and muscles of a dragon as though they were mere flesh rather than living steel. It made sense for him to face the beast.

  Except, the dragon of Corbenic, the beast he had faced as a mortal had not been so big. Hells, it had barely been half the size of the creature he now faced.

  The dragon, Loraxis, roared again and unleashed a river of flames at the flying Adam, only to be thwarted by an invisible bubble protecting the winged demigod.

  That was another difference, the beast that Lancelot had faced in the cemetery of Corbenic had been a creature of death and rot. It had breath no fire, only a putrid hurricane that sickened and decayed. Only the blessings placed upon him by the Lady of the Lake saved him and allowed him to kill the monster. It had been an old member of its kind, sinking into death magic to make itself stronger, but in so doing had allowed the rot to permeate it, becoming both strength and weakness. This dragon was different, a prime example of its species, bursting with fire and vitality.

  The difference was daunting, but he was a Knight of the Round Table, and such men were not known for faltering in the face of adversity.

  As the dragon unleashed its fire upon Adam Lancelot charged forward, aiming for its left hindleg. Much of its weight was resting on those hind legs, as they absorbed the recoil from releasing such a powerful and ongoing blast of fire. The knight was no student of physics and mathematics, however, he was a warrior, and though studies and tomes were not his passion he could read the stance and muscles of this beast as though they were letters upon a page and know where to strike.

  Arondight swung. Scales resisted at first, hard as steel and reinforced with magic, but then failed. They could have withstood the weapons of modern armies or the blows of warrior gods, but before the dragon-slaying blade, they gave way. Lancelot felt his sword cut through scales, flesh, muscles and veins, stopping only when he struck bones so hard and thick that not even Arondight could carve through them with ease. The dragon’s fire cut off as it bellowed in pain, and the knight twisted his blade as he tore it free, worsening the wound and severing more muscle as he withdrew it.

  That leg collapsed, unable to bear its weight. The shift was so sudden, and the dragon had been so focused upon Adam, that it was unable to compensate in time. It tried to catch itself, missed, and fell on its side. So huge was the creature that for an instant it seemed more like some huge avalanche of rubies rather than the fall of a living being, but Lancelot refused to let himself be distracted!

  Even as the dragon tumbled, the Knight of the Lake was moving once more, supernaturally strong muscles pushing him on as he dashed around the falling beast like some great hunting cat. He went around the dragon, constantly staying out of its sight and ducking past its tail. As its great head swung to see who had injured it Lancelot was already on its other side, striking out at its other hindleg.

  The very stars that were just showing themselves seemed to shudder as the dragon screamed this time. More weight had been placed on the hindleg as it tried to right itself, and Lancelot had aimed for where he thought the tendons might be. His blade cut once more, and he felt something snap beneath its edge, and then come loose. The shriek of pain and rage was all the confirmation he needed to know that he had struck true.

  Had his foe been a ‘normal’ dragon, ridiculous as the thought might be, then this could well have been a crippling blow. Mighty as dragons were, they were still mortal, if only in the loosest terms. When wounded they needed to heal, and when hurt enough it would hamper them. The wounds he had just dealt would not guarantee his victory, after all a dragon could fly, but they would have been a good start. Loraxis was backed by the power of the Wild Hunt though, already Lancelot could see the yellowish green fires of the Hunt licking at the edges of the wounds he had dealt, sealing them, healing them.

  The wounds were grave though, and the dragon was massive. Athena had suggested that it would cost more in terms of power to heal the mighty beast than it would to heal a smaller member of the Hunt. The dragon’s own natural resistance to magic would work against it, making the power of the Hunt tax itself all the more in trying to heal it. Another drain upon the Wild Hunt’s collective reserve of power, another step in the plan.

  All of this flashed through the Knight’s mind in an instant, because an instant was all he had. Crippled the hindleg might be, but useless it was not. The dragon didn’t hesitate, and as the limb gave way Loraxis’ other muscles reacted, lashing out blindly at whatever had hurt it. Lancelot was fast and strong, but even so, the dragon was too fast! A limb more massive than an old oak slammed into him, lifting him off his feet and sending him cartwheeling into the field like some toy hurled by a cruel child. He tumbled through the air, then crashed into the ground, rolling, flailing. Were it not for his own strength and the enchantments upon his armour he had no doubt his limbs would have snapped and his bones splintered. As it was he shakily regained his feet, his head spinning, but his senses recovering as he turned back to the battle.

  Adam had made good use of the opening the knight’s actions had provided. Lancelot watched with satisfaction as a tree-thick lightning bolt, edged in blue and seething with divine power, crashed down from the clear sky, striking the dragon on its horned head as like a descending hammer from the heavens. The impact was so great that one of the huge horns exploded, even as the massive reptilian head was slammed into the ground!

  The Knight of the Lake saw an opportunity and charged in once more. As he did a wolflike form sprang at him from the dust that had once more been kicked up, but its slavering jaws were met with Arondight’s edge. In the next instant, Lancelot continued his charge, and the headless form of the werewolf collapsed to the ground, sulphurous green and yellow flames dancing upon it, yet another drain upon the Hunt.

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  Skloris raged, swinging his axe with wild abandon as he allowed all his wrath to spill out. All around him the world seemed to be going mad, but he didn’t have time to take it in, all he could focus on was his opponent.

  Athena blocked the strike, slapping the weapon with her shield in a shower of sparks, and then she retaliated with her spear, stabbing out at his leg, trying to cripple him. The centaur cantered back, barely avoiding the strike, but even as he did so a blast of silver light erupted from the spear, flying past him. For a moment he thought she had missed, then there was a scream behind him, and he sensed another draw upon the power of the Hunt.

  Another draw! There were so many! As one of the leaders of the Hunt, under Herne of course, Skloris had a closer tie to the collective power of the Hunt than the lower hunters, enough that he could feel when others were tapping into it. Normally it was a background noise, barely there, but now . . . The normal hum had become the infuriated buzz of a frantic swarm! Every second was adding more! More draws, more need, more wounds!

  He came at the goddess again, using his greater bulk and both arms to add power to his swing. No finesse, no attempts to outmanoeuvre her, just pure force.

  And he didn’t stop!

  One blow led to another. And another. And another. He poured his fury into his strikes, smashing down on her shield more like a blacksmith beating an anvil than a warrior! He put everything behind it, his lips curling into a snarl that showed his teeth as sparks flew from his weapon and the aegis. Athena met him, blow for blow, her calm skill matching his ferocity as each blow was turned and her spear kept stabbing out. Sometimes it struck him, sometimes he dodged or deflected, but then he heard someone else take the hit, and felt another pull on the Hunts power. All around them, lightning felt, beams of light seared the night, fire roared through the sky and the shriek of a dragon made the earth tremble. The Wild Hunt was being torn apart and there was nothing he could do!

  His moment of distraction cost him, as Athena surged forward, her shield slamming into him with enough force to lift him off the ground and send him tumbling back. A goddess she might be, but even so he was still surprised by the sheer force behind her charge. He was struggling to get up again, but the goddess was already closing on him!

  All around he could only see the Hunt being routed, and the sight struck him more deeply than he thought anything could. His was no soft heart, he was a being who lived for the hunt, for battle, for the joy of breaking and slaying his foes. He valued his allies, but ain the way a warrior valued his weapons, and so would happily discard them should superior options become available. Yet this was not about the hunters, this was about the Hunt itself! The closest thing to a home that he had ever had. And it was being torn asunder.

  His grip on his axe tightened as he watched Athena close in as she lashed out about her, more blasts from her spear striking errant hunters as they surged about in confusion. Their idiocy, their helplessness added to his anger. This was not what the Wild Hunt should be! This was not what should be happening! They were the hunters! They were the ones that attacked, that ambushed!

  The burning anger in his guts started to shift, becoming less bitter. Instead, it boiled, a familiar intoxicating fire that warmed him from within. His hooves caught the soil and he was back on his feet, facing Athena as she advanced. His axe came up and he bellowed a challenge. Her eyes narrowed and she braced her spear, readying herself. The centaur charged . . . and a golden metal club slammed into the side of the goddess’s helmet, sending her stumbling to the side. Before she could recover Skloris swung, his axe aimed at her chest in a blow that would have laid open her whole chest were she a mortal.

  Or at least it would have had it struck. Somehow, though disoriented and blindsided, the goddess was able to raise her shield in time. The blow hit it instead of her, but her feet weren’t braced, and the force lifted her off her feet and this time it was her turn to fly through the air and be lost in the dust and smoke.

  “This is a rout!”

  Skloris saw who had struck Athena as Ravananaer emerged from the smoke, one of his golden gada maces resting on his shoulder. The demi rakshasa looked about himself, gesturing with his free hand his posture oddly relaxed, despite the chaos bout him. The centaur could only stare, unable to believe what he was seeing. What in all the hells was Ravananaer doing?

  “I was not expecting this.”

  The lightning raining down from above cut off for a moment as a flock of bats burst out of the shadows and swarmed the two female winged figures hovering in the sky. The red-winged angel was a whirling mass of blades, two huge swords flashing through the air so fast that the bats were coming apart in mid-air as they approached her. As for the other figure . . .

  The centaur knew that the hunters of the Wild Hunt were chosen for ferocity, power and viciousness over wisdom and cunning, but even so, what kind of vampire thought that attacking an angel with control of the power of light was a good idea? It made as much sense as a wood nymph attacking a fire elemental!

  Skloris glared around him, hating what he was seeing. Hunters were running, panicking, some attacked blindly, some actually fled, others tried to rally, only to be cut down as they drew attention. Loraxis fought in the background but was unable to disengage long enough to aid the rest of the hunt. Herne was nowhere to be seen. Old Hefnd fought, but from what he could see she was on the back foot, never able to gain momentum as she was constantly driven back and slammed down. This was wrong! This was-

  “We have to break this! Come with me!”

  Ravananaer’s words broke his dark thoughts as the son of the Rakshasa King grabbed his arm and pulled him along, his strength enough to disregard the size difference between them.

  “What . . . But what can we do?”

  The surprise was enough to break the centaur's anger, and under the heat, there was only the bitterness of defeat. What else could there be? He saw a flash of the spear light through the dust as Athena returned to the fight. Above the bats were reduced to ashes as the angels returned to raining destruction down upon the Hunt. A wordless shout cut through the night and an explosion of raw force marked Kali once more unleashing her power.

  Ravananaer turned to face him, and his eyes showed nothing but steel.

  “Oh, I have one idea,” Those steely eyes flicked up into the sky. “That winged demigod, the one that's leading them. We’re going to kill him.”

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  Mato let out a roar as he brought a paw down on another black dog, the impact great enough to reduce the huge hound to bloody mush beneath his claws.

  He was in full bear form, at max size and burning! He could feel it, fire and molten metal flowing through his veins, muscles like steel and bones of wrought iron. Power! That was it! The power he’d inherited, the power that was now his!

  He’d never felt it so sharply, not until now. Before he’d always been scared, been running. Even when he’d finally stopped and chosen to fight, on the night when he’d fought alongside Adam, it had been about desperation, about knowing that he was finally cornered and some part of him had felt that all there was left was to go down fighting. Even with Adam on his side, Mato hadn’t really thought they could beat Herne, that they could beat the Hunt. How could he? The Hunt were unkillable, unstoppable. He’d tried to fight them before, and what had it done? Nothing! If he killed them they came back. If he ran they chased. If he looked for help others got hurt. He’d tried! He’d run, he’d hidden, he’d tried to keep people safe, but it had all started to feel hopeless. Pointless.

  Not now though.

  Fire erupted in a wave, and a quartet of red-capped goblins that had stumbled out of the smoke and dust were sent rolling across the grass, screaming as the bright flames on them burned and refused to go out, even as they fought the eldritch fire of the Hunt.

  This time . . . this time things were different! The Hunt was scattered, surprised, shocked. They weren’t coming at him in some endless unkillable tide, they weren’t being led by some towering monster that he felt helpless against. He was winning!

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite how he wanted it. If Mato could have had his way then he’d have been in the thick of it. Adam would have flown him right over the Hunt, and Mato would have gone full bear mode above them and fallen on them like a dropped anvil the size of a small house! They’d never have seen it coming.

  Sadly, at least in Mato’s opinion, Adam hadn’t felt too eager to drop him into the main battle, but he’d also been smart enough to realise that his fellow demigod wasn’t going to accept being left out either. The end result was that Mato had been left at the edge of the fight, and his job was to deal with any of the Hunt that tried to flee this way. By the looks of it, Adam had guessed right that there wouldn’t be too much for him to do. So far all he’d had to fight were Hunters that came out of the fog of smoke and dust too disoriented to know which way they were going.

  It wasn’t the vicious, blood-drenched battle of vengeance and excitement that he wanted, but so far it hadn’t been too bad.

  Though he couldn’t see too far into the dust cloud that had been kicked up, he could make out some details. Adam, Joan and Hadriel were all up in the sky, easy enough to spot, especially when they shot lightning, lasers or fireballs down. The others were lost in the fog, but he could hear the screams, explosions and impacts that suggested Kali was having fun if nothing else.

  And then there was the dragon. There wasn’t really any way he could have missed it, the thing was so massive that even with all the dust and smoke it towered high enough to be visible. Its every motion caused the clouds around it to shift, and as it spread its wings the smoke and dust began to clear.

  “ENOUGH!!!”

  The dragon’s voice boomed out, as though a mountain had somehow decided to make sure everyone was going to listen to it, whether they wanted to or not. Large as he was in his bear form Mato compared to it the way a dog would to a tiger. Its mouth could bite off his whole head and a chunk of shoulders if it came down to it! But it was more than just its physical size. As huge as it already was, it somehow managed to loom even larger, towering in Mato’s eyes until he felt tiny before it.

  Then spears of ice rained down and the moment was broken. Mato stumbled back a step, his breath coming out of his snout as a huff of steam, his huge eyes blinking as they tried to clear themselves. It hadn’t been real, but that sudden feeling of smallness, of being helpless before an apex predator, had all but smashed into his brain. What made it even more disorienting was that he’d been riding high on a sense of his own power only seconds before. The sudden shift . . . it had been jarring to the point of making his head hurt.

  Another torrent of fire shot up into the sky and the dragon’s wings beat at the air. Suddenly it was as though a hurricane had been whipped out of nowhere, the smoke and dust were sent scattering, the battlefield laid bare in the dimming night. Mato was forced to turn his head away, the grit in the wind stinging his eyes too much to keep watching.

  It only lasted a moment though, and the giant bear turned his eyes back to the fight in time to see some more Hunters, Naga this time, heading his way. A wave of fire engulfed them easily enough, but it was what he saw beyond them that worried Mato.

  The dragon was rising. Sure, it was slow, and was so huge that not even an ungodly amount of magic could let it take off like a rocket, but it didn’t have to go far. Adam rained down attacks, fire, lightning, ice, wind, colourless ripples in the air. None of it was working, the dragon continuing on like some sort of horror movie monster, its jaws gaping wide, fire flickering at the back of its throat.

  The winged demigod’s salvation came in the form of the red-winged angel, Hadriel, wielding two enormous swords slamming into the neck of the dragon with such force that Mato was sure he could actually see a shockwave pass through the air from the point of impact. Both huge blades were buried in the dragon's flesh, the sheer force being enough to drive the divine blades into the thick scales, blood leaking out around them and the green and yellow flames of the Hunt licking at their edges. The impact was enough to divert the dragon. Not by much, but enough that Adam could dodge to the side!

  Mato allowed a rumbling growl to escape his muzzle as he watched the angelic demigod soar through the air, opening space and charging a glowing ball of energy between his hands.

  And then he fell.

  The change was so sudden that for a moment the huge bear wasn’t sure what he was seeing. One moment Adam was twisting through the air, wings slightly folded to allow for more tight manoeuvring as he positioned himself to return fire at the dragon, the next he was plummeting from the air like a puppet that had just had its strings cut.

  Before he knew what he was doing Mato was charging forward, his paws slamming into the ground, propelling his huge form onwards. Bears were surprisingly fast creatures, and a bear as massive as his current form could move even faster when driven with supernatural strength and vitality. He wasn’t thinking about any of that though, all his thoughts were focused on reaching Adam before he hit the ground. He was vaguely aware of Hunters getting in his way but fire or claws dealt with them.

  None of that detracted from the ball of ice that seemed to be forming in his belly though.