Fallen University: Year Two

He opened his mouth wide to roar at me. Drool dripped down his single tooth onto his flat, wide tongue, and I gagged. We weren’t even that close, but I could smell his breath from where I stood, and it was like moldy cheese and dirty gym socks had made a baby together. Craning my neck to peer around him, I saw that he was finally far enough away from the main fray.

“Now, you big baby,” I crooned, forcing as much persuasion as I could into my voice. I wasn’t sure if a bigger guy would require more persuasion, but I didn’t want to skimp on it. “Hit yourself in the head, real hard.”

He hesitated, confusion reflecting in his big, bloodshot eye.

“Use your club,” I intoned, pushing my power even harder. “And hit yourself. In the head.”

Nothing.

Goddamn it.

Language barrier, maybe?

“Swing it like this.” I picked up a long piece of broken stalagmite and demonstrated, still pushing the persuasive magic out toward the cyclops. “And bash yourself over the head. Swing very hard.”

I pushed images as well as thoughts toward him, trying to supplement my words with a visual, as if my persuasion was a picture book meant for a child. Finally, the cyclops seemed to latch onto the meaning of my gestures, and I made a mental note to ask a teacher about that if we survived this battle. Seemed to me they should have taught me those little details by now—like whether I needed to be able to speak the same language as someone to persuade them.

Either way, the cyclops did as he was told. He swung the heavy club all the way out to one side, then swung it back as hard as he could. The wet, sickening thud as the spikes embedded his skull had me gagging again.

He was still on his feet somehow, even though his skull was pierced and caved in, thick red and black goo spilling from the wound.

“Fall that way,” I told him, pointing to the side where the club was and hoping that his mashed up brain could grasp my directive.

He fell. The club hit the ground first and smashed the remains of his head to pieces. The thick, noxious goo poured out like a river in my direction. I was trapped between a large pile of rocks and the cyclops, leaving me no choice. I ran as fast as I could toward the twitching body and scaled his bumpy, squishy hide. The stench brought tears to my eyes. As I slid down the other side—so gross, do not recommend—I saw that the battle was starting to turn in our favor.

The little flying whatevers were gone, splattered against the rocks or smoking like charcoal. The harpies were holding their own for now, but there were only a few left, and they were not working together. On the ground, the spider centaur demon thing was still wreaking havoc, but his smaller minions had been crushed or burned. The salamander was split from mouth to cloaca, its black innards spilling out and mixing with a river of lava that ran nearby.

I was still bursting with energy and cocky from my success, so I raced toward the front lines without hesitation. I watched Hannah take out three harpies at once, and whooped for her. That was a mistake. A serpent woman I hadn’t seen lurking in the dark struck at me, nearly taking my head off with her vicious fangs.

“Kill yourself!” I shoved the suggestion at her with all the force of adrenaline that a surprise attack would evoke. She hissed a laugh at me.

“Sssilly child,” she said as she slithered closer. “Look into my eyes.”

Bad idea, bad bad idea, nope not gonna—

Even as those thoughts raced through my mind, my muscles were moving of their own accord, my head lifting on its own. Shit.

“Get out of my head!”

“Ssseek out my faccce,” she whispered.

Shit. Shit. Fuck. I couldn’t stop it.

“Hannah! A little help?”

The serpent exploded in front of me just before I met her slitted gaze, blasting apart in white and blue flames. Kingston lit her on fire for good measure, then projected a thought into my head. Be more careful, damn it!

Though my men and I could sense each other’s emotions and physical state, we couldn’t exactly communicate telepathically. But when Kingston was in his dragon form, he could send out his thoughts like speech, and his voice in my head made me smile.

I was weakened by the battle, but my men were still fighting for their lives. I had to help them.

Come on, Piper, keep going. The battle wasn’t over yet, and I wouldn’t quit fighting until it was. You can do it. You can.

I forced myself to stand up straight, but could no longer hold the larger form. I shrank down to my usual size and scanned the battlefield for a new target. Something dumb, preferably.

As it turned out, I didn’t have much of a choice. A demon twice Xero’s size had him pinned against the wall, blasting fireballs at him. All Xero could do was block the enemy’s fireballs with his own. I launched myself over burnt carcasses and smoldering stones, making a beeline for them.

The enemy demon didn’t even see me coming. Hurling myself at him, I grabbed one of his meaty arms. “Hey, lover. You don’t want to do that. Fireballs are boring. You want to get laid.”