This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere. It contains heterosexual and lesbian sexual activity.
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The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission.
This story takes place in the entirely fictional city of Springfield, California, so don't go looking for it on a map. And in my little fictional world, there are no unwanted pregnancies or STD's, except as plot driving devices. The author encourages the practice of safe-sex. Finally, as the name implies, this is part of an ongoing series. It would benefit the reader greatly to examine the earlier stories for background information and descriptions.
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". . . shit!" Robbie shouted. He, the Strays and the Raptors were fighting for their lives in the jungles of South America trying to capture a magical jewel called the Heaven's Eye from a maniacal shaman. The adversary conjured up a set of massive earth golems to aid his followers in the defense of the jewel, and all hell had broken loose. Robbie found himself lying on his back, scrambling to get out of the way of the descending foot of a golem before it crushed him like an insect.
'If I let that thing step on me, Red will have my hide,' he thought absently. Then he felt hands on his shoulders and was pulled out of the way just before the foot came down.
"I'm not explaining to your sister that I let you get killed," Natasha said as she helped Robbie to his feet. She looked pissed. The Strays and Raptors were generally too fast for the golems but the golems were too tough to be readily destroyed. Most of the shaman's followers had been incapacitated or had run off, leaving a kind of roaming stalemate.
Besla and her Raptors had taken to trying to drop heavy objects on their earthy enemies, but they weren't able to lift anything big enough to do significant damage.
Natasha was strong but not strong enough to take on those things. She didn't much care if they hit her. The shaman himself had watched her casually let one step on her and she just got up afterwards.
"This guy is pissing me . . . off," Natasha said, trailing off. She noticed one of the golems step in a fire pit. Shortly thereafter, it took a step and she saw several chunks dropping off its leg. "BESLA!" she shouted. She looked at Robbie. "Fire," she said excitedly. "These things are flexible. Fire 'em up and they'll go stiff."
Robbie stared at her.
"What? Am I the ONLY one around here who took a ceramics course in college?!"
Robbie dodged a clumsy blow from the golem. "Never went to college, remember? And where are we supposed to find that much fire? I left my Greek Fire in my other pants."
"Is that what you told Besla?" Natasha said jokingly as she ducked another swat from the golem.
Robbie saw Besla bashing another golem over the head with a heavy stick, mostly to no avail. The quetzalcoatl were having limited success by constricting and crushing the enemy, but it was a slow process that left the feathered serpents vulnerable. Robbie waved at her frantically. After a moment she flew over, obviously exhausted.
"Yes?" she snapped.
"Sorry," Robbie said. "Didn't mean to interrupt your lack of progress!"
Natasha stepped between the two hotheads. "Besla, we think we've found something we can use. Can anyone in the Raptors produce fire? The dragons maybe?"
Besla snorted. "Dragons breathing fire? Where do you humans come up with these ideas?"
The three of them put some distance between themselves and the fray. "How about Lothar? Can he conjure fire?" Robbie asked.
"I don't know. He's been trying to get at the shaman and he's sweating up a storm. He's not used to this," Natasha said nervously. Lothar was well hidden, but eventually the shaman would find out where he was and send a golem after him. "We need to either take care of some of those things out or find a way of getting to the shaman. Where's he drawing all that power from? Lothar is no slouch, but he's sweating like a pig."
"The jewel maybe?"
"I don't think so. I don't think that's what the jewel does, from what Lothar told me." She looked at Besla. "See if you can get a good look at his surroundings . . . see if he's standing near anything or is protecting something." She turned to Robbie. "Sneak over to Lothar and see if he has anyway of conjuring fire. Tell him what we saw with the golem."
Natasha watched her comrades take off. She figured she'd make another play at the shaman. It wasn't like he had anything that could actually hurt her. She tore off across the field, dodging her earthy adversaries. She got within fifty yards and ran into a new problem. More specifically she sank into it.
"Holy fuck!" she shouted. The ground around the shaman had been softened, and Natasha quickly sank up to her knees. It seemed to have little effect on the powerful golems, but the ground-based attackers were slowed anywhere in the shaman's vicinity. "I'll give the bastard credit. He's clever," she muttered. Then she almost smiled. 'It's VERY soft,' she thought.
Meanwhile, Robbie had found Lothar hidden in a grove of trees. He had a narrow view of the field of battle, but it was all he needed. The nerd-turned-hero was sweating from pores he didn't know he had.
"I can't get through, and he doesn't even seem to be getting tired!" Lothar gasped.
"We think he may have some kind of power-source," Robbie said. "Besla is looking for it. Listen, can you . . . like do fireballs and stuff? Fire makes the golems brittle. We might be able to start breakin' 'em up."
"Fire is tricky and potentially dangerous. It'd be easier to localize it than to try to fill the air up with it."
"There's a bunch of ceremonial fire pits out there. Will that do?"
"Yeah, but I don't have much juice left. If you can get them all close together . . ."
Robbie nodded. "Leave that to us. Don't worry about the shaman for a bit. Let's take his guards out. Keep an eye open. I've got an idea." Actually, he didn't have an idea. He just wanted to sound like he did. 'Fuck, how am I gonna manage this?'
He bolted out into the open, headed straight for one of the golems. He kept an eye out for the biggest of the fire pits.
"Do you have a plan YET?" came Besla's screech as she swooped in next to him.
Robbie was annoyed. Couldn't she at least wait to be critical of him until AFTER they had won? Or died? "We need to get 'em near a fire pit," he told her. "As many of 'em as possible."
"Very well," she replied. "He seems to be drawing power from three stones on the alter, but he has golems doing nothing but guarding them. And . . . wait, your friend!"
They both stared as a golem raised its foot and prepared to squash an unsuspecting Natasha. They tried to yell at her, but she didn't seem to notice them. The foot of the creature came down and smashed her into the muck. The last he saw of her was her hand sinking down into the mud, grasping a handful of some kind of straw.
"NATASHA!" he shouted, moving to help her.
"Isn't she incapable of being harmed?" Besla asked.
"Yeah, but she still needs to breathe!" He looked pensive. "Try and draw the golems toward that pit. They know you're a threat. Trying playing injured. Then . . ."
"Finally," she interrupted with a smile. "I think you have a plan." Besla flew off, screaming orders at her fellow Raptors.
Slowly, the plan started to come together. Besla "was injured" and landed near the fire pit that Robbie had pointed out. Robbie went and lured the one that had smashed Natasha away and towards the meeting spot. Finally, a handful of the allies had the majority of the golems in a circle around the pit. The shaman was screaming at his minions, mostly likely telling them to kill off the intruders or something like that. No one understood a word that he was saying.
"Scramble!" Robbie shouted. Suddenly, the "tired and wounded" Strays and Raptors scatter, taking to the sky or rushing between the legs of their attackers as fast as the soft ground would allow. "Now!" he shouted when they were all clear. "LOTHAR!"
In the thicket, Lothar concentrated. Most people didn't really understand magic. Magic wasn't about violating the natural order. In fact, that was impossible. Magic was about manipulating the world as it was. A sorcerer could not create something from nothing, nor could he destroy something absolutely. He could simply push and pulled at the fabric of what was to make the universe more compliant with what he wanted. What Lothar wanted was to move particles around, causing the air above and around the fire pit to be saturated with oxygen, feeding the flames until . . .
It was quite a sight really. Robbie wished he'd brought a camera. The air above the bit shimmered and glowed for a moment, and then a column of fire erupted out about ten yards from the pit and up to the sky. Flames engulfed all of the nearby golems and for a moment hid them from view. The towering constructs emerged from the flame, but their surfaces were cracked and scorched.
"Now tear 'em apart!" Robbie shouted.
The tide of battle turned sharply in favor of the challengers. The quetzalcoatl were smashing great chunks from the now-brittle golems with their powerful tails. The Raptors were finally able to started ripping substantial chunks from those earthen forms, and the Strays began swarming one enemy at a time and tearing them up with claw, tooth and tusk. Arthur rushed to the thicket to check on Lothar and give him an energy boost.
The shaman looked panicked. He grabbed one of the stones he had been using as power sources off the altar and raised it over his head, and the ground around the shaman began to swell.
"Not again!" Robbie panted.
"How many times can he do this?" Mindy said next to him. She was tired as all get out.
But just as quickly as the fight had started, it stopped. Up from the muck, a form arose. There was a length of reed in its mouth area. The figure spun the shaman around and belted him straight in the mouth, forcing the sorcerer to collapse to the ground in an unceremonious heap. When the shaman went down, the remaining golems ceased movement. The figure wiped the mud from its face.
"Natasha!" Mindy screamed delightedly.
Natasha spit the hollow grass stem she had been breathing through from her mouth. It had taken her a while, but she had managed to creep up on the shaman and past his guardians. "I SO need a bath," she muttered, mostly to herself.
Slowly, the Strays and Raptors all gathered around the altar. Lothar grabbed the power stones and shoved them into his bag.
Robbie looked at the giant pearl-like jewel that they had come for. It was pretty, but didn't look too special. "I don't see what the big . . ." Robbie picked up the Heaven's Eye and, deep in his soul, he heard it hum. He slowly put it back on the altar. "You take it," he told Lothar.
There was a moment of quiet content amongst the allies, and Natasha and Robbie both got some pats on the back.
