16. Vesper #4
River monster. Dinosaur fish. Always hungry. The arapaima wears armor you’ll find difficult to pierce. Good look, player.
The arapaima requires defeat and consumption to complete this battle.
“What,” I say, staring at the water as something large splashes in the middle of the river followed by the sound of something loud smacking as it peaks above the water, “the fuck?”
“Good luck, Vespera,” Cipher coos. “Remember to give it some pizzazz.”
“I told you!” Locke says, pulling his dull ass short sword from his inventory. “You shouldn’t have touched the water.”
“This is what we were looking for,” I argue, pulling my own useless blade. The creature begins to cut through the water, and we get a good look at its body. It moves fast, deadly fast, and seems to be trying to find a way to get at us on the shore. Luckily, it seems limited to the water.
“That was before I knew it was in the water,” Locke counters. He glances at me warily. “I can’t exactly . . . swim.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t exactly say I know how to swim either.
What need have we to learn when Dross didn’t have rivers?
Dox knows how, having spent time in the under-tunnels, but I never learned.
It wasn’t necessary. The chances of drowning in Dross are mostly limited to someone holding your head under water in a wash basin.
And at that point, you have bigger problems than swimming.
“Fuck,” I growl. “How are we supposed to fight something in the water if we can’t swim?”
He shrugs. “Lure it to the edge and stab it? I don’t know.” He rubs his forehead. “But it said the thing has armor of some sort.”
I wince. Oh. So, it’s going to be like that then.
I tap the water with my blade and the arapaima comes rushing closer, but not close enough.
It stays just offshore, cutting close and then cutting away, like it’s playing a game of Chicken.
It’s large enough I’m willing to bet the thing can’t actually get close enough to reach us, the water too shallow close to shore.
We’re not going to be able to get it if one of us doesn’t play Chicken back.
“Trade me weapons,” I order, reaching for Locke’s sword. “Just for this.”
Locke eyes me skeptically, but hands me his short sword and I give him my dagger. Then I turn to the river edge and start to kick off my boots.
“The fuck are you doing?” Locke demands, watching me as I flex my toes.
The ground is muddy as I gather my courage and step to the edge. I start rolling my shoulders, trying to loosen up. “Killing it.”
“That thing is bigger than both of us,” Locke growls. “You can’t go in the water and wrestle it.”
“I don’t gotta wrestle it,” I argue. I step one foot down into the water and sink into the mud. I try not to think about what other creatures might be in the water. “I just gotta kill it.”
“This is ridiculous,” Locke grunts, before starting to kick off his boots, too. “You’re going to get us both killed.”
“Then stay on the shore,” I growl back.
“I’m not letting you die alone,” he spits, stepping in after me, my dagger raised high in his hand. “Not after you saved me from the Killing Trees. Give me one of your arrows.”
I do what he says and then take one for myself, too.
It’s the only thing we have that’s sharp and it worked well for the Boiúna.
I have to use both hands for the sword, so I slide the arrow between my teeth to hold it and take a step deeper.
The water is both cold and warm at the same time, as if it flows in layers.
It’s still refreshing on my overheated skin despite the difference.
The sun starts to warm my back now that the trees aren’t covering us as we move deeper, both of us taking slow, searching steps until the water is waist deep.
The arapaima whips around when it realizes we’re now deep enough to reach, the massive fin on its back cutting through the water as it darts toward us.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Locke grunts under his breath. “We’re going to get eaten.”
“Don’t be silly,” I say. “We have higher chances of drowning than being eaten.”
“Reassuring,” he growls back at me and raises the dagger.
The arapaima rushes toward me and I slam the sword down, slapping the water and trying my best to stab the creature.
It darts away before the sword can make contact and I change my hold to above my head, prepared to stab down next time rather than slice.
This blunt sword won’t do any damage otherwise.
We’re not even sure what kind of armor it has.
Instead of rushing back toward me, it shifts focus and goes after Locke who screams and starts stabbing the water in a panic.
Water splashes around us as he stabs at the thing with the blunt dagger, doing no damage whatsoever.
The giant fish turns away from his frantic stabbing and its tailfin hits Locke’s legs.
The river sweeps around us, and he loses his footing for a moment when the fish hits him.
I just barely catch him by his arm before he goes under.
“We need better weapons,” he growls, clearly annoyed with the blunt dagger. He grabs the arrow instead and disappears the dagger into his inventory. At least the arrows are sharp. These blunted weapons aren’t going to do any fucking good.
“Here, fishy, fishy, fishy,” I coo as I take a step deeper. “Come and get dinner.”
“I would not travel deeper,” Cipher warns. “This river is home to more than just the arapaima.”
“What else?” I ask, suddenly worried. If I’m swept away by something other than the fucking Minor Boss . . .
“Black caimans.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything,” I growl at him. “How the fuck should I know what a black caiman is?”
“It is a crocodile. A large semi-aquatic reptilian creature that hunts by blending into its surroundings. It can look like a floating log, if it bothers to show itself to you at all. It kills by taking you under the water and rolling until you drown where it will then tear pieces off of you and consume your corpse. They can grow up to five meters long.”
My mouth drops open in horror. “Why would you create something like that?”
“I did not create it,” Cipher replies. “This was a creature that lived on Earth. A product of evolution, not my creation.”
“We need to hurry this up,” I tell Locke. “There are other threats in the water.”
“Of course there are,” Locke snarls. “I’m going to fucking die here.”
He stabs at the water with the arrow, the tip hitting the fish and glancing off its scales, and the arapaima redirects again, focusing on me.
I prepare myself, determined to get the fucker this time and get the fuck out of this water.
Every movement suddenly feels like a threat.
Every shadow a caiman ready to drag me under.
I sink lower into the water, wedging my feet into the rocks beneath me. We can’t stab it; the scales are too strong. We’re going to have to get creative, and I really only have one solution for that.
The arapaima makes a strange noise that I almost attribute to the river and barrels forward.
I shove the sword beneath the water and point it at the wide-open mouth, prepared to either stab the fucker or let it take me at this point.
If this doesn’t work, we’re gonna be down a weapon, and maybe an arm.
The arapaima slams into me and the sword, knocking me off my feet as we both go whooshing through the water.
The river immediately tries to take me, and I scream just before my head go beneath the brown water.
The cold closes around me and for a second, I think that I’ve really messed up.
In my rush to kill the boss, I’d totally forgotten about my inability to swim and what would happen should I go under.
I feel the pull of the current as I struggle to get back up despite the heavy weight on top of me.
My lungs start to burn as I flail out my arm, reaching, searching for anything to hold onto other than the big fish on me.
Just when I start to think that’s it, I’m done for, something grabs my shoulder roughly.
And then something else wraps around my arm and drags me back above the surface.
“Hold on!” I hear as I sputter and take in great gulps of air, while I try to get my feet beneath me. My other arm is still wrapped around the arapaima, holding it tight as Locke hauls me and the now limp fish toward the bank.
There’s water in my eyes that I try to blink out, getting a good look at the rushing water in front of us while Locke drags me and the arapaima toward the bank.
I’m so dazed, it takes me a few long seconds to see the log floating behind us. A log that is floating against the current.
“Go!” I scream, shoving at the rocks beneath me and trying to push us faster. “Get out of the water!”
“We need the Minor Boss,” Locke snarls as he wades through the water. “Don’t you let it go.”
“We’re about to get eaten with him!” I cry, kicking my legs.
The fish is longer than I am tall, trailing behind us in the water.
Locke’s sword is still buried deep in its gut and I have my arm looped through its gill to try and keep a good hold of it, but the fucker is heavy.
Waterlogged as I am, and as big as the fish is, I have no idea how Locke is managing to move us as quickly as he is.
Another log appears at the top of the water, and another, and I can suddenly pick out the eyes, the nose, and the teeth just barely protruding from the jaw.
The first log opens its massive mouth and chomps down on the tail of the fish. It rolls and nearly jerks the fish out of my arms before it breaks off a chunk. Another does the same, ripping at it violently, trying to pry it from my hold. My arm screams at the force of it.
“Locke!” I scream. How fucking far were we from the bank? How much more of this fish is there before the caimans are chomping at my legs?