By the time they located the correct warehouse, the creature was well ashore and demolishing buildings as it crawled. Elements of the city guard turned out and assailed it with spear and arrow to no effect, and retreated when the massive tentacles pulverized several guardsmen.
Smashing the lock, Sigyn threw wide the warehouse doors. Row upon row of kegs filled the room, floor to ceiling.
“Zarono, get ye to the rear entrance and wait there, flee when the thing starts to demolish this building. Try and flee a moment sooner and I’ll gut you! Tycho, find a torch or lamp, anything to light this oil. I’ll smash open a few kegs.”
Sigyn belabored several kegs with her broadsword, and soon the floor was covered in lamp oil.
“Mind your footing! And be damned careful once we light the stuff, or you’ll fry like a panfish!”
“No chance of that.” stated Tycho, returning empty handed, “Nothing, not even flint and steel. The owners of this stuff are taking no chances.”
“Then we must look elsewhere! We…TOO LATE!”
There was a great rending, and the roof was lifted from the warehouse. The huge coils smashed down and sent forth a welter of timbers and lamp oil. Sigyn was hurled to the floor. Struggling to her feet, slipping about ridiculously in the puddled oil, she heard Tycho wail in pain and despair, he had been struck down and pinned beneath an avalanche of loose barrels. She raced forward and struggled to free him.
“Nay Sigyn! Flee! You cannot shift the barrels! Together they must weigh a thousand minae!”
“Cease your wailing, redbeard! I’ve hauled boar carcasses across the ice that weighed more than one of these things.”
“But the beast, Merciful Mitra! It comes!”
Sigyn looked up, all before her was obscured by the great black bulk. All was darkness save for the pale glittering beak that worked and snapped hungrily, and two massive glowing discs, the things glowing soulless eyes, each one yards across.
Sigyn screamed, and with inhuman strength, born as much of fear and desperation as anything else, hoisted a barrel over her head and hurled it at the chomping beak. The creature snapped up the barrel and quickly chewed it to bits. It brought a tentacle down, nearly squashing the Aesir, who deftly leapt out of the way and hacked at the member with her sword.
Pinned beneath the barrels, Tycho was strangely calm. Grim amusement crept into his mind. Being somewhat of a thoughtful nature, he had from time to time speculated on the manner in which he would meet death. Being killed by an enormous octopus had never occurred to him. He chuckled at the absurdity of it all.
His reverie was broken when a bright red glow streaked though the air, accompanied by a high pitch screech. The red, shooting star-like object struck the octopus just above the craggy, barnacle encrusted ridge the served as its brow, the lamp oil collected there burst into flame. Another of the screaming flares struck the thing broadside, igniting a conflagration there as well. Turning his head Tycho saw Zarono at the shambles of the rear entrance, with a bundle under one arm and a lit torch in his hand.
“Get clear, you louts, lest ye’d be roasted like chestnuts!”
He freed a long narrow cylinder from the bundle, and touched the end of his torch to it. There was a shower of sparks and the object leapt from his hand. It arced across the sky, trailing red fire and sparks, and where it struck the monster, the oil it had smeared on itself ignited.
Now the colossal Octopoid gave forth a low, loud bellow that rattled the timbers and brought down more of the ruined structure.
Sigyn returned to Tycho and frantically moved the barrels off of him.
“Leave me, girl! I can not stand… my legs…”
“Tis a small matter.” groaned Sigyn, and with an effort, she threw the masseur over her shoulder. Struggling under his weight and keeping her footing in the oil, she set out to the street. No sooner had they moved, one of Zarono’s comets struck the area they had just quit and set it alight.
Carrying Tycho to what she judged to be a safe distance from the inferno, she deposited him on the street and collapsed beside him, groaning as her overtaxed muscles protested against the effort she’d demanded of them. The pair regarded the scene at the blazing warehouse as a crowd of onlookers gathered about them.
The giant octopus was totally ablaze. It’s flailing tentacles spreading the blazing oil and stoking the very conflagration that was consuming it. It’s craggy hide blistered and cooked, giving off waves of black, foul, oily smoke. At last, the writhing ceased, the low bellow ended, and the leviathan lay still.
“Well, that’s that!” stated Sigyn. “Zarono was not a total fiend after all, I suppose. I wonder what those fiery bolts he threw were? I didn’t take him for a sorcerer.”
A nautical-looking old gentleman from the crowd chimed in; “Signal Rockets. Outfitters have them from Khitai. Damned handy for communicating at sea… and from sea to shore.”
“Think ye Zarono escaped the conflagration?” asked Tycho.
“I have no doubt he did, but I think he’ll skulk off and lay low for awhile after this debacle, then he’ll no doubt busy himself raising a crew and finding another ship, then he’ll become someone else’s problem. He’ll plague us no more.”
“I am not so confident.” muttered Tycho. He rubbed his legs and moved them about experimentally.
Sigyn ran her hands through her tawny mane, grimacing at the amount of oil it had absorbed. She glanced sideways at Tycho.
“And how are you masseur? Are your legs still troubling you?”
“They are fine, I will be myself again soon. I just need a bath, some wine, and a night’s sleep in a firm bed.”
Sigyn snorted and laughed.
“I suppose I’ll allow that, redbeard, but don’t malinger! Remember the summons from Zapaya? See to it you present yourself at my villa tomorrow! You have aching bones to crack, and stiff, knotted muscles to knead!”
The End