“What kind of game?”
“It’s a secret,” Joe said. “You’ll see.”
Joe started walking, and Brady hurried to catch up, taking his hand. They strode away together.
“Morgassa came from the lad?” the Rogue Knight asked, his voice quiet for a change.
“Much like how your power came from Honor,” Callista confirmed. “The chief difference is that the boy gave up all claim to his power. It now exists separate from him.”
The Rogue Knight turned to Honor. “If you surrender your claim to your power, my sword and my knights are yours.”
“I will not,” Honor said. “Your power might feel like part of you, but it came from me. My father and those who aided him took it by force. But I will lay aside my claim for now if you will help us.”
The Rogue Knight drew Verity. “I could slay your companions and take you prisoner.”
“You could try,” Jace said, putting on his mask and transforming into a mighty wolf.
Cole put on his mask as well. Changing into a mountain lion felt so empowering that he let out a yowling roar. This was more like it! The Rogue Knight and his men no longer looked quite so intimidating. Cole almost wanted them to attack. The armor might be problematic, but he felt confident that his claws and jaws were equal to the challenge. As he noticed a bear on one side and a ram on the other, Cole realized that the others had also used their masks.
“I fear neither man nor beast,” the Rogue Knight bellowed. “I had my reservations about attacking children. My men and I would welcome a fairer fight.”
Cole crouched, ready to pounce. The Rogue Knight’s horse looked delicious. If Cole stayed low, he suspected he could bring it down without the Rogue Knight touching him.
“If you want a fair fight,” Honor offered, “leave the others out of it. Duel with me.”
Only Callista remained in her true form. She held up her hands. “Cease this foolishness!” she demanded. “Rogue Knight, I doubt you wish to test yourself in combat against a virtuous young lady. She has not wronged you in any way. You have wronged her. If you cause any harm to Princess Honor, your honor would be the price. You did not personally steal her power. Do not make yourself an accomplice after the fact! Your alternative to helping us would be to live out your days on the run, either evading Morgassa or else falling prey to her. You physically cannot leave Elloweer. Side with us against this menace and give Elloweer a chance.”
“You ask too much,” the Rogue Knight growled, as if the words had been torn from him. He pointed Verity at Honor. “I am her power more than I am anything else, as are my knights. You ask me to give up my identity. Our identities.”
Minimus dismounted and walked to the Rogue Knight. “Sigmund, the identity you wish to protect is not yours. It’s hers. Yes, it changed you, but you remain beneath it. Keeping her power goes against all you now stand for and all you taught us.”
Silence reigned in the camp. Eleven and a half knights watched their leader in stoic, faceless silence.
“Let’s see how the battle goes,” Honor suggested. “You have done much good with my power. Perhaps there is more you could accomplish before I ask for it back.”
“After this battle,” the Rogue Knight said, “you might ask, and I might refuse.”
“I’m willing to take that chance,” Honor said.
“Our best hope against Morgassa is to unite our efforts,” Callista said. “I will stand with you, as will Honor, her sister, and their companions. It’s perhaps our only chance to end this menace.”
“Very well,” the Rogue Knight said, a hint of defeat in his voice. “I have watched Morgassa. She is indeed a catastrophe of the magnitude you describe. We will join the hunt, but I make no promise about afterward.”
“That problem may resolve itself,” Callista said brightly. “There is a high probability that none of us will survive.”
Chapter 37
SHOWDOWN
Fluid strides propelled Cole forward at a thrilling speed. The physical rapture of running as a cougar helped him suppress his fears about the upcoming battle. Though worries tickled the back of his mind, they failed to rival the exhilaration of sprinting with this pack of knights and animals.
The knights’ mounts must have been changed as much as their masters, because despite the hundreds of pounds on their backs, they had no trouble keeping pace with the other tireless beasts. Hooves thundering around him, a bear charging on one side, a bull on the other, Cole felt close to invincible. What could possibly stand against them?
Cole smelled the horde before he saw them. Something about the scent was . . . unnatural. His instincts recoiled. The horde smelled . . . What? Infected? Rancid? Those words came close. They smelled like nothing he wanted to touch or bite. They smelled like something a healthy animal should avoid.
A little village came into view at the base of a hill. People fled small buildings with stone walls and thatched roofs as the vanguard of the horde fell upon them, hurling frightened villagers to the ground and holding them down as figments claimed them.
“Morgassa is beyond the hill,” Callista called. “Her horde has spread out to swarm several hamlets at once. This will be as good a chance as any to strike.”
“Onward,” the Rogue Knight urged, drawing Verity. “Don’t slow to fight. Success depends on keeping our speed.”
Cole ran harder than ever, paws pulling at the ground, muscles bunching and releasing to heave him forward. No people ran from the village anymore. They had all been overtaken.
Cole braced himself as the first members of the horde drew closer. He compared the revulsion to how he might feel if forced to plunge through deep sewage. But this was worse. At least sewage was natural. His senses warned that this horde was a crime against nature.
The Rogue Knight took the lead. His knights fanned out diagonally behind him, forming an arrowhead that protected Honor and the animals.
Figments glided their way to intercept them, their languid movements deceptively speedy. Human in form, the figments lacked detail. Their faces were blank, and each of their average-size bodies could have been male or female.
Ahead of the figments charged dozens of changed people, their clothes soiled and tattered. Old and young, tall and short, fat and thin, they scrambled forward with deranged intensity, blundering into one another, gibbering and growling with mindless fervor. They moved quickly but gracelessly, as if driven by panic.
The knights did not slow as they reached the horde. Their horses trampled the changed individuals coming their way. Some of the most nimble changelings jumped at the knights, as if hoping to tackle them from their saddles, but the knights beat them back with shields and weapons.