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Part 2-7: Field
We sat in a huge circular field. A high wall ran along the perimeter, made of the familiar stone blocks. I had no doubt that the hall of sixty sconces lay on the other side. In the center of the circle stood a great cylindrical castle. It had a crown of uneven blocks at the top and reminded me of the chess pieces that sit in the corners of the board. Deluxe would know the name.
The sky was also a familiar shade: featureless and the grey of sad roadside slush. Not overcast, but empty. It was the same sky that hung over the park when I crossed into Eden’s world. However, I did notice little black specks circling high up. Birds of some sort, it seemed.
“We seem to be making progress,” said Persi, clinging to my good arm.
I barked a laugh. “Bet Fergus and Deluxe will be envious as hell.” I tried to flex my other hand. It was stuck as a fist, and I couldn’t feel it.
We got up, and I massaged my dead limb. The tingles blossomed again, and I prepared myself for a huge case of pins and needles.
“You think the Collector that the man mentioned, you think that it’s Eden?” asked Persi.
“Sure seemed like it. And it also seems like folks here know my name.”
“I didn’t mean to say it. I forgot you were Sally.”
“If you hadn’t, we might not have figured all this out,” I said, unsure if it were a good thing or not. Persi smiled a touch, though.
“Should we look around the edge first? Or the building in the middle?” I asked.
The feeling was coming back in my arm, and I could flex my wrist now. I wanted it back in business before we started any more adventuring.
“I don’t think we’ll have a lot of choice in the matter,” said Persi, and pointed.
Another dude was running at us. There was a door on the central castle, one I’d not noticed (probably because it wasn’t there before, given how this stupid place worked). He looked like he’d come from it. This man was a lot less fancy then the others so far. He had the look of a hobo, dressed in featureless brown material that resembled a potato sack, wearing no shoes, and sporting a long, matted beard that trailed behind him as he ran. The gleaming yellow sword in his hand and the shining golden spear on his back clashed heavily with his outfit.
“Fun never stops,” I murmured. Even with a good arm I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get the drop on this one.
“You’re Sally, I’m Jane,” said Persi.
We braced.
He arrived and tossed the sword. It landed at my feet.
“Quick! Follow me!” said the hobo.
He took off his spear and bolted back to the castle. A low wind rustled the grass.
I slapped at the sword’s handle with my numb claw. It was no good, not yet. I grabbed it up with my left hand. Very light, like the furniture from the room. I’d never handled a real sword before, but I figured they should be at least a little heavy.
“Don’t stand there! Run! She’s almost here!” yelled the new guy.
As if in agreement, the wind kicked up a notch. It raced sideways, swirling. Bits of grass floated about. We ran, again. From who or what, I didn’t know. But if the ghosts in here were afraid of it, perhaps we should listen.
Halfway to the castle, there was a guttural squawk from above. There were crows of some sort of bird circling with the wind. Maybe ravens or—I remembered the chess piece’s name—rooks. They were rooks. And they were big. I had misjudged their size, seeing the shapes against the featureless sky. But now one dove from the formation up above, and it kept growing and growing. It landed to our left with a heavy crash, the size of a minivan. A figure, clad in black, jumped from its back as it grated a horrible, earsplitting wail.
There was a streak of gold, and the hobo’s spear appeared in the figure’s gut. It and the bird crumpled in tandem, and the wind started to peel a storm of ash and feathers from their bodies. The sooty deluge licked at me as I ran through it.
The castle loomed. Five more thuds and various keening screeches burst from my sides and behind. I saw one massive black shape out of the corner of my eye, and kept on running. No time to wonder what was happening.
Hobo-dude reached the door. A black bolt whizzed overhead and thudded into the stone.
Persi reached the door. Dirt exploded on the right and I was showered with grass, soot and soil. Another bolt whizzed and thwacked.
“Look out!”
I jumped and dove, not towards the door but to the left. More soil erupted, this time smacking, stinging, and forcing me to roll away. Somewhere in this mess, I lost the sword. Prone, I looked up and saw smoke and falling grass. The pommel of the weapon gleamed a few feet away.
I crawled to it, not knowing where the door was, too adrenaline soaked to care. My right arm was still too stupid to function. Clumsy with my left, I grabbed it. A black steel boot crunched down. A knight stood over me, suit of armor and all. It raised a stick, which ended in a spiky ball.
I squeaked and jabbed at its ankle with the sword. The moment the yellow blade touched it, it froze. I got to my knees.
“Ale—ahhh, Sally! This way!”
Persi’s voice, from behind. I scuttled backwards. The wind pushed the rest of the smoke away. A plume of fresh feathers followed in its wake as the thing I’d stabbed crumpled.
Three armored figures stood at the halfway point between the outer wall and the castle, their birds hulking behind them. One knight was bigger than the rest, and its hands were lost in a haze of blue light, its face hidden behind a spiky, visored helmet. The other two fired bolts. I fell to my back and log rolled, holding the sword above my head in case it could cut me too.
I heard the bolts thud close by. Now when I looked up, I was facing the door. Persi peered out.
A sizzling whoosh from behind.
I brought the sword around, holding it up like a shield. Two blue comets converged on me. The sword glowed hot, then the world went blue all around as they hit. I expected pain, or heat, or anything, but felt nothing but the cool grass and the gusty wind. The blue flashed black and I was battered with a thousand soft tickles. I was in a massive pile of feathers.
The storm of black broke up in the wind as I got to my feet, rising out of the swirling mass like a child from an autumn leaf heap, my sword still burning bright. I backed up towards the door, and noticed another one of the knights to my left. It held its ground, until I pointed the sword at it. He took a step back.
The three in the distance were still too, though the big one had come forward several paces. I got to the door, and as I touched the castle’s stone wall, the light in my sword died. The whole weapon went grey, then broke apart like sand in my hand.
The knights and I shared a glance.
I flipped them off and fled into the doorway.
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