If he didn’t breathe, could we stop him?
Grace gasped as if she recognized the creature, which would have been great, because then she knew what it was and would know how to stop it. But she didn’t say anything. Maybe he was mortal, human. Maybe we could just beat him up. But that didn’t explain the ruin of his face or how he could function without four of his five senses.
The crossbow fired and a bolt whistled past me, smacking into the monster’s neck. The shaft stuck out of sickly grayish skin, quivering. Behind me, Cormac cranked back the crossbow for reloading.
Not that it would help, because the monster didn’t much notice. He grunted, swiped at the bolt, pulled it out, and tossed it away. A bare trickle of blood ran from the wound. So, he was a near-invincible kind of otherworldly monster. Check.
Cormac slung the crossbow over his shoulder and began rummaging in his coat pockets.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Not going to waste ammo I’m going to need for the vampire,” he said.
Anastasia stared at it with awe and doubt.
“What is it? Who is it?” I shot at her.
“Hundun,” she murmured. “God of chaos.”
Of course he was; we had to get one of those in the mix.
“I don’t know—I thought the guy was dead,” Sun said.
“Wait a minute—if he’s a god how could he be dead?” I called out.
“Oh, gods die all the time.”
I would have to parse that later. “That means we can kill him, right?”
He didn’t answer.
Common sense—Wolf’s common sense—told me that I didn’t know enough about this enemy to be able to fight him. He wasn’t prey, and this wasn’t a hunt. We weren’t cornered—we could escape through the doorway behind us, avoiding the silver caltrops. We could run. We ought to run. That was common sense. But I couldn’t leave the others. And I couldn’t help.
The creature had paused a moment, seeming to look at each of us in turn, noting us, marking us. Then he almost nodded, a single tip of his head, which he swung around to focus on Sun Wukong as if identifying him as the most dangerous among us.
With what seemed to be a sense of a joy, Sun took a running start and leapt forward, meeting the blinded monster head-on. Holding his staff with both hands, he jabbed upward, aiming for the creature’s chin—but the thing, this strange god of chaos, sidestepped and whirled to slam his fists into Sun’s back. The creature’s speed belied his size and apparent lack of senses. Maybe the thing really could see, somehow, and all the stitches were there for horrifying effect.
My common sense was failing me.
Struck hard, Sun stumbled forward, but was able to quickly spin to once again face his opponent, and in the same movement he struck again, cracking his staff against the monster’s head. The being shook off the blow and swung a punch at Sun, who dodged it by jumping over it. It all happened in a blur.
“Sun, you must break him!” Anastasia called. “Break through, remember the story.”
“I can handle it!” he called, and she hissed as if she didn’t believe him.
“Cormac, the crossbow, you must aim for his eyes, open his eyes!” Anastasia yelled.
The creature lunged again, punching with both fists.
“I’m feeling so useless,” Ben said. We were still on the sidelines, watching a fight that would have been amazing if it had been in a kung fu epic. Being able to smell the sweat in the room made it too real.
Cormac hadn’t heard the vampire. He—Amelia—was still rummaging for whatever protective or defensive spells they had. I was furious that Ben and I had been sidelined by toy-size hardware.
Then I saw him, in the shadows of the same doorway Henry had come through, aiming a crossbow of his own at Anastasia.
I didn’t think. I took a running leap and sprang over the stretch of spilled caltrops, hoping, reaching, praying I’d make it.
“Kitty!” Ben snarled after me. Then he called, “Cormac!”