Metal Mage 9

by Eric Vall

  “It’s not bad,” I managed with a shrug. “It’s … rustic. That’s cool.”

  “Aye,” Haragh said with a touch of pride. “Smells like home, too.”

  I risked a sniff for his sake, and it was definitely less disgusting than the grove of putra we’d stumbled upon in Nalnora. There was a lingering waft of urine here and there, and the undeniable stench of sweaty crevices, but the ocean was the predominant smell drifting in on the breeze, and I assumed the bitter undertones were the beverage overflowing from their giant stone mugs.

  “Which way are we headed?” Hulsan asked as he shifted his belt, and the old farmer didn’t seem at all phased by the slew of ogres towering before us.

  “Straight ahead,” Haragh said, and he jutted his chin in the direction of the smoke and sea.

  I was impressed when Hulsan took the first step, but then a gust of wind blew up and funneled past us to tear its way along the muddy pass, and suddenly, every ogre in sight wrinkled their noses and turned on the spot.

  “Keep it casual,” Haragh muttered as he stiffly continued walking.

  I did my best to not look like I was about to shit myself while the roars and thunking of stone mugs slowly faded, and we advanced into the lair in strict ogre-friendly formation.

  The ogres towered on either side of us with ruddy green scowls and yellowing teeth slightly bared, and with every step, a collective growl seemed to be growing amongst them. I eyed Haragh as he kept his gaze straight ahead and his pace assured, but I was having trouble staying as cool because my healing rune had flared up minutes ago.

  Then one ogre with only half a burlap shirt knotted over his shoulder let out a gurgling snarl and lunged.

  Everything happened all at once as the rest of the ogres took his cue, but in a flash of amber light, Aurora’s flames seared right over their toes as they encircled us completely. Clubs and snarling green faces began pushing through the flames as deafening roars broke out, and when I realized the fire wouldn’t stop them, I sparked my Terra Magic and dropped to a knee.

  I let my powers seep into the mud while arrows flew over my head from the left and bullets shot from my right, and I could tell Cayla was intentionally shifting her aim so she would only graze our attackers. Deya fired her arrows into their limbs rather than their chests as well, but the ogres just tore the arrows from their flesh and cast them aside like nothing while they let the bullets shred their biceps open without any concern.

  Then I finally found the geysers beneath the surface and forced every one of them to tremble and spew out a torrent of dense red mud all over the angry mob. Ogres bellowed furiously as they were blinded with the stuff, and they slipped and slid into each other while they grappled to get at us anyway.

  Haragh sent his own Terra Magic to the cliffs and started tearing off chunks of stone, and he dropped them on the ogre’s muddy heads while the women continued working to keep the others at bay.

  Then I forced another torrent of mud to spew up as I shifted my focus, and while the ogres tumbled around and spat mud from between their teeth, I raised the ground beneath us ever so slightly.

  Hulsan seemed to know what I was up to, because I could sense him scanning the terrain beside me, and for a split second, I thought he was about to join in a circuit to help out. Then his Terra Magic suddenly ceased as he sent me a nod.

  Right on cue, I tore a trench open just outside the circle of Aurora’s flames, but it ended up being more of a moat as mud poured in from above and oozed out of the walls. I could sense traces of stone in the soil, though, and as the ogres crawled stubbornly ahead and made to leap into the moat, I lined it with perilous rocky spikes.

  The ogres roared furiously as they clamored over each other and hurled a few clubs in our direction instead, but we were completely barricaded out of range now on our own flaming island complete with a jagged moat of death.

  “This is not remotely casual,” I sighed as I stood and slopped some mud from my knees and hands, but there was so much of the stuff, it didn’t make much of a difference.

  “Quick thinking, though,” Hulsan said with a grin. “I would’ve just buried them, but this is probably better for your purposes.”

  Then Haragh clamped a muddy hand on my shoulder, and I craned my neck to look at him.

  “Thanks for not killin’ ‘em,” the half-ogre said as he worked to catch his breath. “It’s real decent of ye’.”

  “Any time,” I chuckled and turned to check on the women. “Is everyone alright?”

  They all had red mud splattered on their limbs and hair, but they nodded with amusement as Cayla and Deya stowed their weapons.

  “They even stayed in formation,” Haragh pointed out. “Impressive. Let’s hope the ogres noticed.”

  I tried so hard not to laugh at the three stony looks my women sent him, and the half-ogre wisely turned his attention back to the angry mob of ogres who had all gotten back to their feet.

  A few of them were testing their luck against the moat of death, but when their big flat feet hit the spikes, they snarled and clamored back up the ledge.

  “This is good,” Haragh assured me when he registered my expression. “At least now everyone knows they can’t eat ye’ too easily. They might even lose interest and get on with their day.”

  I cocked a brow as I turned in a circle, and beyond the flames, nothing but giant muddy scowls surrounded us on all sides. There must have been at least seventy ogres in the lair when we arrived, and every one of them was waiting to get at us with their knotted clubs propped on their shoulders.

  “They’re not going anywhere,” I muttered.

  “Yeaaah, maybe not,” Haragh admitted.

  “How long do you think we’ll have to stand here like this before the ruler happens to find us?”

  “Well, with this lot gatherin’ to kill us, it’s pretty easy,” Haragh said with a shrug. “Just call him out.”

  “What do you--”

  But then Haragh threw his head back and let out a roar that sounded like a massive fur ball caught in his throat, and after he repeated the sound a few times, the ogres surrounding us gradually joined in.

  After a few repetitions, I realized they weren’t actually hacking, they were saying the word “Grot” like a stadium chant, and they banged their clubs in the mud or pounded their chests in time.

  I watched as spit flew through the air with every call, but when the ground began to shake from more than just the pounding of the clubs around us, I turned my attention down the pass.

  I didn’t have to send my Terra powers out to guess how big the creature coming through the lair was, because his bulbous head swayed high above the rest. The crowds fell into a tumult of roars as their leader approached, and they shuffled aside to make way for Grot as Haragh anxiously checked our formation and adjusted his stance.

  Grot looked like he’d eaten about ten of these other ogres for how giant he was, and he didn’t bother with any boiled leather or musty smocks. Only a crumpled burlap sash sat crooked on his hips beneath his big green rolls, and he reminded me of a sumo wrestler as he dragged a club behind him that was longer than I was tall. His deep brown eyes had a tinge of red to them that made him seem even more threatening, and his heavy green eyelids rested at half mast as he came to a stop at the side of the moat.

  The crowd quieted down as their leader looked out at us, and only the gurgling of geysers broke the strained silence as a fresh batch of mud spewed from the ground.

  “Grot!” the leader finally bellowed as he beat his heavy fist against his chest.

  Then the entire gathering raised their clubs with another roaring “Grot!” before all eyes turned to me.

  “Uhh … Mason Flynt!” I called back, and no, I did not beat my chest. “I need a word with you, Grot. I’ve travelled from Illaria and--”

  Grot grunted in a way that made all of his sweaty rolls jiggle while he heaved his gnarly club to his shoulder, and I furrowed my brow as I glanced at Haragh.

  �
�Kill somethin’,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Right now?” I hissed.

  “Do it,” Haragh urged. “He thinks you’re weak.”

  I looked around at the angry ogres all towering beyond Aurora’s ring of flames, and as much as I wanted to avoid being eaten by Grot, I didn’t think killing one of his ogres would strictly get things off on the right foot. Then I saw another of the black birds swooping overhead, and I pulled my revolver out to take my aim.

  I waited a few seconds until the bird circled back to where I wanted him, and when I fired a bullet into his chest, the body came spiraling down and crashed into the mud directly in front of Grot. Another batch of mud boiled up as everyone stared at the carcass, and I holstered the revolver.

  “I came for the feast,” I informed the leader.

  “Smooth,” Haragh mumbled.

  We both waited as we carefully gauged Grot’s reaction, and I could see the leader’s bloody brown eyes staring down at the huge bird for what felt like an eternity. When he finally looked up, his wrinkly expression was completely unreadable, and he looked at me like this for a full minute before slowly sizing up the women at my back.

  Then he let out a low growl that was so bassy I could feel it resonating in my chest.

  “Ye’ kill for Grot?” he suddenly roared as he bared his teeth, and every ogre in the mob snarled their disapproval.

  I didn’t even have to glance at Haragh to know the look he was sending me was wide-eyed and loaded, but I just crossed my arms and held the leader’s gaze.

  “Hell, no,” I growled back. “That’s my kill. Get your own.”

  Now, the leader’s expression shifted to what sort of looked like a grin, and his next grunt turned into a full bellied chuckle.

  “Feast!” Grot bellowed at last, and he raised a great big arm to beckon us forward as the rest of the gathering echoed his call and banged their clubs. Several of the ogres began shuffling in the direction their leader had come from as the noise of the lair resumed around us, but Grot waited there with a big green grin on his face.

  “Send the women,” Haragh muttered hastily.

  “Fucking what?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “Women get the kill,” he hissed. “Send the women! Now!”

  “Godsdamnit,” I sighed as I turned and looked over my shoulder, and all three of my women were wide eyed as I gestured for them to head toward the carcass. “I am so sorry.”

  They all took it in stride, though, and as I formed a bridge across the moat, Aurora parted her ring of fire enough for the three of them to stroll out of the flames.

  Then Grot grunted his approval before he turned his warty back on us, and Haragh quickly caught my sleeve to drag me along.

  “We’re in!” he said with a giant grin.

  Chapter 12

  The sight of my three women each grabbing a limb of the enormous carcass and hoisting it over their shoulders for me was equal parts comical and fucking ridiculous, but they sent me wry grins as I walked past them to follow the leader.

  Then they towed the damned thing behind me for what seemed like ages at the pace of the ogres, and I could hear them straining against the weight of it while they tried to stay in proper formation.

  Did I feel like an asshole? Kind of, but the periodic laughter coming from Aurora as Deya fumbled to get a good grip on her leg eased my conscience a bit. Considering we were walking out in the open with about seventy ogres who were not trying to eat us, I would say things were going pretty well, and as I looked around, I couldn’t help but feel a little badass. I was the only one in the whole flock with three women in my pride, but I saw a couple ornery looking ogre men with two ogre women carting dead bodies at their backs.

  The majority shuffled along solo with all manner of lizards, birds, slugs, and what looked like dark red bats slung over their shoulders, but every single ogre I saw had a stout stone drinking vessel clutched in one hand.

  “When we get to the caves, don’t show any hesitation around Grot,” Haragh warned. “Go right to where he’s sittin’ and get yer bird cooked up.”

  “When can I start discussing the missing ogres?” I asked as I eyed an ogre who turned to clock one of his women over the head with a dead lizard she’d accidentally dropped.

  “Oh, get right to it,” Haragh instructed. “Don’t tiptoe around nothin’, ogres have no patience for it, especially Grot. If he gets too bored, he’ll set his women on ye’.”

  “Fantastic,” I muttered, and when Hulsan snorted, I glanced over. “How you holding up?”

  “Just fine.” The old guy shrugged as he pulled his tin of pollen out. “It’s about how I pictured it. Muddy, slimy, piss all over. We’re not dead, so I’ve got no complaints.”

  He took a loud snort of pollen as he stepped out of the way of an ogre’s arm, and he kept on walking through the mud like it was any old day on the farm. He might’ve been a bit rough around the edges, but he handled weird shit surprisingly well, and I guessed he must have seen many strange things during his thirty-five years in the Order.

  “Yeah, this isn’t half bad,” I chuckled. “I’m sure you’ve seen worse. Did you ever deal with ogres when you were serving the Order?”

  “I’ve seen a lot,” Hulsan said as he raised his bushy brows, “but I’ve never seen a mage waltz into Jagruel and not get eaten.”

  “Not eaten yet, anyways,” I said with a grin, and Hulsan chuckled as he stepped around a bubbling spring of mud.

  “I’m startin’ to think you might walk out of here with that alliance after all,” the old man admitted, and he studied me carefully for a moment.

  “That’s the plan.”

  Hulsan snorted and shook his head, and as we trudged through mud and avoided a few lumbering ogres crossing our path, he nudged me with his elbow.

  “I’m the sort of man who speaks his mind,” Hulsan muttered in a low voice, and I smirked at the obvious, “and I’d be remiss if I didn’t say it … you oughtta stop all this fussin’ in the name of the king.”

  “Yeah, I kind of got the feeling that’s how you felt,” I chuckled.

  “But you’re just gonna carry on taking care of his kingdom for him?” Hulsan asked, and I sighed as I scruffed my beard.

  “Look, I know Temin’s not your favorite guy, and I’m sure you know a lot more about the kingdom than I do, but I don’t run around all over for the sake of the king, alright?” I told him honestly. “I’m just trying to do the right thing, and right now, the right thing is making sure the ogres aren’t enslaved.”

  “Alright,” he said with a nod. “Then what? You ‘re gonna go back and tell the king you’ve done his job for him, and then carry on doin’ it.”

  “No,” I replied. “I’m gonna go back, hopefully tell the king we have the alliance of Jagruel, and--”

  “He has the alliance,” Hulsan corrected. “Temin will have alliance with Jagruel, and you’ll still be the guy risking his life to see it done.”

  “Sure,” I said with half a smirk, “but the point is, the problem will be solved.”

  Hulsan shook his head. “Waste of potential.”

  “My potential?” I clarified.

  “That’s right,” he said, and he held my gaze. “You don’t seem to realize what you’re doing here has never been done before. No one’s gotten the Elders of Aurum to open their borders, no one’s gained sacred knowledge from the elves, and here you are talkin’ to the damn ogres, and you know what? If you walk out of Jagruel with that alliance, you’d be a damned fool not to admit you’ve got a hell of a lot of potential that’s being misdirected. Temin doesn’t have that potential, and he sure as hell isn’t entitled to yours. You oughta focus on what you could accomplish, because I can tell you right now, if you can make all this happen, you could lead better than that king of yours, and you have the resources to do so.”

  Haragh had been silent all this time, but when I glanced over, he looked shocked by the words of the old man.
r />   “What you’re sayin’ ain’t fittin’,” the half-ogre muttered under his breath. “Mason’s not a traitor to the crown.”

  “And if he was?” Hulsan challenged. “He’d have scores of others waiting to back him up from multiple nations. Are you telling me he couldn’t accomplish unimaginable things given that kind of chance? But he’s runnin’ around serving that king of his.”

  “He’s not my king,” I mumbled, “and I’m not doing this for him.”

  Hulsan let out a sigh of irritation as he pulled his tin of pollen out from his pocket once more, and I wished I had a way of explaining to Hulsan that his anger concerning Temin’s reign hardly applied to me.

  I wasn’t from Illaria, I wasn’t raised under a monarchy, and I didn’t come to this realm to help Temin. I came to destroy the Master and protect everyone I could in the process, and if Temin had the resources and wherewithal to help me achieve that, then his friendship was valuable to me. It had nothing to do with loyalty to his crown.

  I couldn’t say any of this, though, so I let the old man think what he wanted. He had a point about how much I’d accomplished here, and I couldn’t deny that I seemed to be the only one around with the guts to take it all on. Still, whatever potential he saw in me, I just wasn’t interested in it at the moment.

  All I wanted to do was protect my women and the places they came from. I wanted to destroy the Master and do justice to the faith Nemris had in me when she brought me here, and I wanted to keep exploring the crazy ways of this realm and everything it had to offer. This world felt more like home to me than Earth ever had, and the endless possibilities it offered where magic and weaponry were concerned was the potential I was most interested in. Not ruling over nations.

  I decided I could at least clarify this, if not my full back story, since Hulsan’s high opinion of me was flattering, and I’d just opened my mouth to do so when a sudden outburst on our left caused an entire shack to go flying in a spray of mud and splintered wood.

  We all stopped and turned as a ferocious roar rent the air, and a brutish ogre crashed to the ground. Above him stood what I assumed was a woman based on the green cleavage peeking out from beneath her boiled leather, and she held a bloodied club above her head as she let out another vicious roar.