Glass Ghosts

Sir Danielle Longbow’s had her trusty shield on her left arm as she looked at the monsters by the water’s edge. Glass ghosts was the common name for them, shapeshifters.

            “If they take your face don’t worry about attacking, just hold them at bay with your shield and let others deal with them,” as the senior of the warriors there, she was in command.

“How will they know what we look like? We’re wearing helmets.” Someone asked.

            “I have no idea, but the stories say that they always know. No dying. I don’t want you on my conscience. Understand?” She hoped they could all hear her over the sound of the horses.

            “Yes, Sir Longbow,” eleven soldiers replied.

            “Sure you don’t want rid of me yet?” asked Anne Hyland, standing by her side.

            “After your joke at the dinner, perhaps.” The knight tried to keep her eyes on the beasts that were bearing down on the shields of the soldiers.

            “I’ve got other jokes if you want to hear them,” Miss Hyland’s voice told of her smirk.

            “Not now, Anne.” Danielle hissed. Raising her voice, she reminded her troops. “We can’t kill them. When we shatter them, the pieces will start to change into something else that can kill. We need them locked in the boxes straight away. Do you hear me?”

            “AYE.” Eleven voices answered, Anne’s included.

            The soldiers began to bang their shields with their war hammers to draw the attention of four clear humanoids who were all choosing a victim. It was a familiar feeling to Danielle who had already confronted magical creatures that assumed the shape of people.

            “It’s coming for me!” One man stepped back and started to turn away.

            “HOLD YOUR GROUND. WE’LL KEEP YOU SAFE.” Danielle saw a hint of Anne’s face in the glass ghost before them. “Shield up Anne, that one’s yours.”

            Hammers swung at the monstrous ice sculptures. Cracks appeared in the surface of the creature but were fusing back together in moments.

            “Hit harder, we need to trap them in the chests.” Danielle swung low, managing to knock the leg from one of the creatures.

            Grabbing the shape as it elongated, she ran to the knights guarding the steel chests up the hill. They held the chest open, ready.

            The glassy shape wrapped itself around her arm as it became a snake.

            “Help me get it off,” she yelled. Men and women grabbed the writhing form with gloved hands. It twisted and bit. Blood leaked from the leather of a glove, drawing a scream from the man.

            Two more grabbed the thing and pulled as the last opened the lock box. 

            “Lock that one and open the next,” Danielle said, running back to the fight.

            Anne was fighting a child sized version of herself. It had knifelike claws instead of fingernails and teeth any predator would envy. War hammers swiped the air around it as it dodged. Danielle filled the fourth point of the compass and moved in to strike.

            Her downward blow glanced against the beast’s back, focusing all of its attention on her. It grabbed her shield, pulling itself up until she couldn’t bear the weight.

            A heavy swipe from behind knocked the head of the glass ghost tumbling.

            “Take that to the next chest and run as fast as you can before it changes.” She pointed to a soldier that might have been Anne or anyone. In the chaos it was impossible to know.

            Nodding, the soldier dropped sword and shield and ran with the head in two hands as if it might explode. For all they knew it might.

            What was left of the headless glass ghost continued to attack, swinging carefully over and under shields.

            “They don’t need the head to see?” Someone asked.

            “Doesn’t look like it,” she said, panting.

            “Here,” said a soldier behind them. “We’ve got a chest ready, grab it and throw it in.”

            The creature was morphing from a headless horror into a combination of an infant covered in the spines of a hedgehog, each one a deadly glittering diamond.

            Danielle grabbed an arm of the thing and dragged it to the chest.

            “Get the legs.”

            As they threw it into the box it pinned itself in place, growing spikes that sat over the edge.

            “Slam it shut. Break those off.” The lid slammed on the thing, but the spines kept the lid from closing. Hammers smashed the spines away. Little by little the lit closed on the box. The man with the key fumbled with shaking fingers, locking the chest, and sighing with relief.

            Danielle looked at the other groups.

            Six soldiers fought against one beast, five against another. One clutched a wounded arm, dripping more blood than anyone could afford to. Sir Longbow tapped a box bearer on the shoulder and pointed to the wounded man.

            “Get him on a horse and back to Leonor as fast as you can. Take him to the healers at the castle.”

            “Aye Sir.” The man ran, slipping in the mud of the shore.

            “How many empty boxes do we have?” She yelled to the men by the cart.

            “One Sir,” said a woman with a hoarse voice.

            “Bring it here,” she pointed to a spot next to the group with six fighters.

            One of the six yelped and leapt back with blood dripping from their right hand. Danielle guided the man out of the way and closed ranks.

            “The box is right behind me. I’m going to move back slowly. Push it towards me with your shields.”

            Little by little the cracked and furious icelike warrior was guided to the box. Danielle stepped aside to clear the way for it to be pushed in. The beast tried to run through the gap.

            She slammed into it with her shield and threw all her weight into the push.

            Its arms twisted at impossible angles, steadying it as it began to morph into her.

            Heavy blows shattered two of its arms. It tumbled half into the box. The broken arms began to morph instantly.

            “Throw them in as well. We’ve almost got it,” Danielle yelled. She tried to get up, but it was holding her like the other one had, gripping her shield. “No you don’t, that was my father’s.”

            Her blows were thrown in blind rage, turning the fingers that held her shield to shards of glass. The others backed away as she broke the thing faster than it could change. Throwing the pieces into the box she slammed the lid.

            “I need the key.”

            Looking at her with apparent fear, a soldier threw a key. She turned the key in the lock. The chest rattled and bucked. She gave it a kick that did nothing to calm it down.

            One of the other boxes had two soldiers sitting on it.

            “We need the key!”

            “Here.” She threw it. The key soared gracefully through the air into the silt of the shore next to them. “Sorry.”

            When the last box was locked, they all sat panting on the ground until they caught their breath.

            “Anyone else badly injured?”

            A unanimous round of, “no,” came from everyone.

            “Thank the gods for that. What a fucking day.” Taking off her helmet, she tried to mop the sweat from her brow. Sweat mixed with blood as she realised her mistake. “Boxes on the cart. Let’s get back to Leonor.”