Memory Bonds

The figure stepped out of the shadows again, close to the center of town, if Cooper had to guess.

Moon would guess that too.

The figure’s back was to Cooper, but he was too far away to attack directly. The cloaked man raised a wand at an elf in front of them. If she noticed, she gave no indication. Cooper flung one of his rocks, different than the vials he was saving. It hit the ground between them, and transformed, blooming open into a stone statue of what might be an owl? Whatever it was, it took the brunt of the attack, bursting to pieces.

And that certainly got the elf’s attention. She turned around, and stumbled back in shock.

Or fear. Moon figured it was mostly fear.

Well, more importantly, the figure knew they were there now. Cooper could see a flash of red eyes beneath their hood.

“You? You don’t even have magic.”

Cooper . . . was getting really tired of hearing that.

Then the figure disappeared into the shadows below.

Moon and Cooper quickly faced in opposite directions. There was no place the cult member could come up where one of them wouldn’t see.

Sure enough, he rose on her side, knife in hand instead of a wand. To be close enough to stab Cooper from behind, he had to be close to her.

Cooper dropped to the ground, catching himself on his toes and elbows, when he knew the man was lunging.

Moon meanwhile, grabbed the man’s ankle in her teeth, biting down. She could hear, and feel, the crunching of bone. The man screamed above her. She might have bitten his foot off then and there, but he pointed his wand at her with his other hand.

Seemed he knew how to duel wield.

Moon jumped back as a black bolt of magic hit the ground. She flapped her wings to propel herself back even further, and faster. She could’ve sprayed ice at him as well, but she knew why Cooper wanted to face him alone, despite how much he hated fighting. Knew she couldn’t kill him yet.

And, if she was honest, she was a little uncomfortable with straight up killing sapient life.

“Now, let’s talk,” Cooper said.

“Let’s not,” the figure said, gnashing his teeth.

He was obviously in pain. It was clear in his eyes and his shiny mouth. And he wobbled a bit on only one leg. But when he vanished into the shadows, Cooper had no doubt he’d come back up.

He dropped one of his glass vials, and it erupted into a black smoke cloud. It might’ve looked like a normal smoke bomb. It wasn’t. It was a potion. He’d bought some from the colbber back on Xentron, and some he’d made himself. So how was that for magic?

He and Moon couldn’t see in the smoke cloud, but he doubted their opponent would be able to either, and Moon could smell him.

Sure enough, when the man popped back up, he wasn’t near either of them, and didn’t move right away.

“Last I heard, you killed everyone in the towns you visited,” Cooper said. “Is that true?” He had it on good authority that it wasn’t. “What’s up with that?”

There was a swishing in the air. Suddenly, something slammed into his back. It was heavy, and clawed, and sent him toppling to the ground, though it didn't break skin with those sharp claws. And it wasn’t Moon.

“Fleck? What are you doing here?”

Fleck grunted. “I can’t talk to elves. And you’re welcome. I just took a knife for you.”

So that was the swishing sound.

‘Is Fleck OK?’

‘He’s not bleeding,’ Moon assured him.

It would be harder to hurt a dragon with a knife than a fleshy creature like Cooper.

Being called fleshy when you were partly made of metal was its own irony, but it seemed the time to talk was over.

The smoke cloud began to clear, faster than it should, like someone had pointed a fan at it.

The cloaked man stood, hands behind his back. The cloak hid part of his face, but Cooper could tell he looked smug.

But there were two dragons here, and more elves were coming in. Two of them had wands. A third was carrying a knife. If Cooper and Moon could hold him off, he didn’t stand a chance now.

And apparently, he agreed, because he faded into the shadow just as a magic bolt came towards him.

He didn’t immediately reappear this time. One of the elves asked something, but it was in Elvish.

“It might be a little early to celebrate,” Moon said.

Fleck nodded, but the movement was lose and listless. More like a bobblehead than anything normal.

Moon could smell something new in the air. It . . . it had started while the smoke cloud was still up, actually. She just . . . it hadn’t been as strong. Her eyelids fluttered. And . . . and the smoke scent was probably covering it up.

She closed her eyes. This time she didn’t fight it. She just needed five seconds. Then she’d open them again.

“No! No open them now!” Cooper shouted.

He caught on to what was happening a lot faster than his half-asleep dragon. His own smoke was cleared, but a faint blue fog was rising up from the ground. It came up to about his waist.

He cringed at the thumps around him. Make that his fully asleep dragon. It had affected the elves as well. The only one who hadn’t been affected was him. It was the built-in filtration system. Probably. Only explanation he could think of.

He could breath in poisonous gasses, and his cybernetics would filter them out. That was the most extreme use, anyway. Apparently, it worked on magical sleeping mist as well.

For a moment he just stood there, shoulders slumped, staring at the sleeping bodies before him.

Then he heard just the faintest noise behind him. He whipped around to see the cloaked man was back. He’d picked up the knife he’d thrown earlier, and was about to plunge it into one of the elves.

Cooper launched himself between them, and held up his metal arm as a shield.

That was still his arm, technically his bone. Having a blade bounce off it wasn’t a pleasant experience. But it wasn’t injured.

Cooper glared the man down. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

He must’ve seen Cooper was still awake, and he chose to attack anyway. He could’ve taken the chance to leave and hadn't. He just had to kill these people that badly.

It just made Cooper’s own experience that much stranger.

The man once again didn’t answer him. He stepped back, and was clearly surprised for a second. But he recovered, glared back at Cooper, and shot forward with his knife.

Cooper blocked it with his metal arm again. The man pointed his wand at Cooper, and Cooper launched out of the way before he could be hit by a spell. The man cast another bolt towards him. Cooper ducked under it, and took the offensive, bringing his metal knuckles towards the man’s kidney.

It was true what Moon had said earlier. He didn’t like fighting. Really didn't. It was like how some people felt about doing math. According to some people, colbbers were predisposed to dislike fighting. According to other people, this was why people on Xentron were willing to enslave colbbers, despite how impractical it was in other aspects. But he found his own dislike didn't matter much now.

It had briefly mattered, but the cloaked man had an advantage, having two weapons and probably more experience. Cooper had zero weapons. He had his body, and smoke bombs that would disservice him as much as the cloaked man. At least without Moon.

But he had to try, because he knew the cloaked man wouldn’t give up until everyone here was dead. He knew how thorough the Hidden Cult could be, with an exception that obviously wouldn’t happen this time. And he knew what the end result of their ruthlessness looked like. He didn't want to die, and he didn't want anyone else here to die either, if he could avoid it. There wasn't time to think about his own dislike.

So he kept going with a frenzied desperation. He blocked the knife with his arm. At one point he titled his head and took a knife to his lens eye instead of the unprotected one. He dodged the magic attacks, trying desperately not to get between the cloaked man and the sleeping people around. He failed at that at one point, and the man’s spell hit one of the sleep elves. Cooper didn’t have time to see what it did, if he'd killed her. He tried to go on the offense with his metal limbs.

And he was starting to see an advantage of his own. The cloaked man was tiring faster than him. He was too slow to block a metal elbow to his side. Cooper’s elbow was duller than many colbbers, but getting such a forceful hit from metal still forced the cloaked man to lean over and wheeze.

Cooper backhanded him across the face with his metal hand, and he bled. When he snuck in another attack, using his metal leg to take his knee out from under him, the cloaked man disappeared back into the shadows.

Cooper looked around wildly. His own breath was ragged, sweat sliding down him. There was now a crack on the left side of his vision, and the cloaked man had definitely nicked him in a few places before he tired out too much. But the cloaked man didn’t return. It was just Cooper and the sleeping bodies.

And it was still that way when Wesles came into the area, and Cooper had to shout at him to stop before he walked into the sleeping gas.