The Cards They Deal Us
1243 Words
Scitte! Move! Devlin trembled and forced his rubbery legs to go one after the other. He had the knife in his belt and the bag Alephon wanted sorted. Most people would drop the bag, but Devlin thought he could somehow use it as a weapon, shield, or something. He ran towards the deeper part of the woods. The ostrake, with its lack of sight and wide width, should find it harder to navigate the dense trees. It gave him a chance. Please, please… Not now.
Branches, vines, and giant leaves slapped his face as he raced for life. He heard hissing and the sound of heavy feet echoing through the forest. Devlin zigged and zagged to make himself a harder target. The Errtan held the medical bag close to his chest. He flinched when he felt the creature’s hot breath on his neck; throwing the bag behind him as he zagged to his left. The ostrake’s head snapped at the incoming scent. It dropped the bag from its mouth; its tongue flicking and tasting the air.
Damnare. Devlin hoped for a longer reprieve. The creature’s footfalls grew louder and louder. He looked back as he ran and saw the cobra’s head lean back for the strike. His left foot tripped on something, which surprised Devlin as his memory remembered a clear path ahead. He crashed to the ground and rolled to the side. The ostrake missed his head by a few inches.
Devlin saw Alephon ran past him. The sword knight jumped in the air, aiming for the back of the monster’s neck. The creature, unaware of the attack, planted its claws on the ground and backpedaled to halt its forward progress. In doing so, its rat tail flicked and brushed Alephon’s face, triggering the blind monster’s reflexive defenses. Rockets of air blasted out of the holes of the tortoise shell; launching Alephon in the opposite direction. The forest swallowed the man in black amidst the noise of bending, breaking branches; followed by a thud somewhere on the forest floor. The ostrake’s tongue flicked. Its head turned in Devlin’s direction.
Scitte! Scitte! The young Errtan gasped, got up, and ran in the opposite direction. The hissing grew louder. He wished his legs matched his racing heartbeat. How much time did he have left? Merlin’s owl would have been useful. Merlin would have been useful. He changed directions when he heard any sound behind him; weaving through trees and vines to make himself a harder target for the creature’s long neck.
Thick curtain like vines draped ahead. He could hear the ostrake behind him. The hairs on his nape lifted when mucus thick saliva rolled down his neck. The animal’s hot breath parted the back of his hair. A tongue tapped his right cheek. Move!
The ostrake’s head whipped forward. It bit empty air. The scent vanished in front of it. Then the ground gave way. Its shanks cycled furiously in midair, trying to find a solid foothold. Its toes landed on angled ground. The animal fell chest first and rolled down a steep hill.
Earlier, Devlin zagged when he crossed the curtain vines. He expected the woods to continue, but the vines opened up to a hill too steep for running. Jagged boulders scattered around the angled landscape. His momentum carried him in the air forward, but he couldn’t plant his feet when he landed. The Errtan flipped and rolled, and tried to steer his maddening descent. His memory recalled the placement of each boulder. He threw his body left, right, or forward every time his arms or feet touched the ground; avoiding getting splattered or impaled into the jagged rocks. But he could not escape some spikes from the sides. He crashed at the bottom of the hill and gasped for air. Pain took over his body. A different pain compared to the knock out spasms from over exertion. Damnare. Time was not his friend. He hoped the ostrake got killed in the descent. Devlin looked at the blood sky above and laid still, hoping a few seconds of rest would reset the physical counter even for a few seconds. He studied the pain. Probably a bruised rib, or worse, broken. He felt blood oozed out of his left arm and right leg. A light wound, as Arthur would say. He heard the ostrake crash to the ground a few feet away. Scitte. He looked to his right and saw the ostrake stirring. Get up Devlin!, but his chest tightened. Pain exploded as his body spasmed.
The contraction jolted his head to the left. He saw a sword embedded in the back of a boulder. About ten paces. He didn’t see it on the top of the hill. The ostrake was about twelve paces from him. No, nearer with that neck.
The sword looked similar to Merlin’s Excalibur, except this one had a stone embedded in its chappe. A stone in a chappe? Through the pain, seeing the stone seemed to spark hope within him. It seemed familiar. His mind flipped through the pages of every sword definition in the old dictionary. He found it. Hope turned to dread. The ostrake hissed. Scitte. Devlin had no choice.
He heard the monster move.
Focus! Focus! He couldn’t afford to lose consciousness when he was the dinner. Devlin worked with the spasm; crawling and angling his body. Every jolt, every spasm and decompression, sent him towards the sword.
The ostrake shook its head as it got up. It licked its torn bat wings and the blood from its lacerated hock. It shrieked in pain when it moved its shanks. The creature flicked its tongue and turned its snake head in Devlin’s direction. Its grey eyes stared blankly as it shrieked and limped to rotate its ostrich body to match the direction of its head.
One more roll. Turn! His teeth clenched deeper. He rolled at the next spasm. The ostrake shrieked at its first step.
Devlin’s back laid on the ground. The ostrake shrieked again. The ground pounded. Soil rained from above. The animal tried to reach him but ended up biting a chunk of ground two paces from him. Devlin reached for the sword. The ostrake shrieked. He saw its head rise above him. His fingers furiously strummed the air. The ostrake opened its mouth and bore down.
Devlin touched the sword’s blade with the tip of his finger and felt the mind stone surge through him. The spasms ebbed. The ostrake bit hard and broke its mammoth fangs on the energy shield generated by the stone.
“Keep touching the sword!” Alephon said as he slid down the hill on a large, thick leaf.
The ostrake lost a lot of blood but kept biting. Devlin read snakes could move after a beheading because they needed little oxygen to fuel their brain. The head would live for minutes or hours before dying. He assumed it would be the same for the ostrake.
Alephon reached the bottom of the hill. His face bruised and cut. He jumped at the monster’s side to avoid the tail and sliced its head off cleanly. The head tumbled to the ground and landed hissing near Alephon.
“Nyaahh!” Alephon said as he scampered away from the head.
The energy shield dissipated after the headless body stopped moving.
“It’s not your lucky day.” Alephon looked at the sword as Devlin lost consciousness.
- Writer
