The Monsters of Stephen Enchanter by D.J. Natelson Read Free Book Online Page A

have your serpent.”
     
    “Yes—one serpent, made of snow, a hasty and incomplete job.  Don’t you know anything about enchanting?  I ward houses and improve swords!  I designed my serpent to protect me, not to fight monsters—I didn’t expect I had to fight.  What do I know about fighting?”
     
    “If the answer is ‘nothing,’ said the Jolly Executioner, “then you are worthless to us and these wolves will chew on your bones.  If the answer is otherwise, then you may survive to enchant something better for us.”
     
    “This is your doing—tell me you didn’t bring these wolves down upon us, if you dare.  What if others should die tonight?  What if we all die?”
     
    “Then we all die.”
     
    “I don’t even have a knife!”
     
    The foremost wolf charged, jumping at Granite and twisting away, staying out of range of his broadsword.  Emboldened, the other wolves attacked.  They were clever, three or four surrounding the company’s strongest fighters, six against the Jolly Executioner, and one which had its eye on the juicy, weaponless enchanter standing in a pile of snow.
     
    Stephen caught its gaze and held it.  “Serpent?” he asked, his voice hoarse and embarrassingly quivery.  “Protect me?”
     
    The wolf bunched its haunches and flung itself at Stephen.  Stephen fell back as his serpent reacted: pushing Stephen down with its tail and striking the wolf with its long, thick, magically strengthened fangs.
     
    “Well done, serpent,” Stephen gasped.  “Let me up!”
     
    The serpent preened and drew him up into its frozen coils.  It nuzzled his head, and got down to work.  Quick as lightning, and as brutally efficient, the serpent struck again and again, burying its fangs into wolves.  It took down two more in a matter of seconds.  The rest of the wolves learned quickly, and stayed out of striking range, so that the serpent had to reach farther and farther from Stephen to get at them, leaving him less protected.  At last, Stephen had to order it to withdraw, lest it desert him entirely.  The serpent retreated warily, watching the battle.
     
    Despite their grueling ride that day, not one of the company faltered.  Each had a weapon suited to his skills, and each fought with at least as much skill as Stephen showed in enchanting.  The Jolly Executioner was especially impressive, his iron axe inimical to fairy creatures.
     
    But the wolves were cleverer and harder to kill than ordinary wolves, and the company grew fatigued more quickly than the wolves.  As the wolves grew bolder, they advanced, pushing the company back toward the fire. 
     
    The serpent followed, holding Stephen in its curls.  The closer to the fire they got, the weaker it became, until its backside sagged and could hardly hold Stephen in. 
     
    A wolf spotted the weakness and slunk forward, intent on destroying the Enchanter.  But the serpent was not done in yet: it made a supreme effort and struck one last time, burying the wolf in its mouth.
     
    Its bottom jaw fell off under the weight of the dead wolf. 
     
    The serpent faltered.  It turned its head pleadingly toward Stephen. 
     
    “I’m sorry,” Stephen said, as the light faded from his serpent’s eyes.  “There’s nothing I can do.”
     
    The serpent’s head crumpled to the ground, and was nothing but snow and ice.
     
    And that, Stephen thought to himself with strange satisfaction, was the problem with enchanting snow.  It served the Jolly Executioner right for not giving him time to prepare.
     
    Stephen crouched down to await the end of the battle.  The remains of his snow serpent had become a sort of honeycomb snow fort, and he as safe there as anywhere else.  After a moment or two of thought, he began packing snowballs as a secondary line of defense, along with slight magical modifications for density and accuracy.  It wasn’t much, but it might give him a second or two when he needed it.
     
    A little half-laugh, half-sob