Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

  A strong, bony hand clamped onto his wrist and Gath raised it high for everyone to see. “Then where are your scars?” he called out. “The scars that made you a general.”

  Guldrich jerked his hand free and held it up high. “I lost this arm in a battle with the Nordruaut champion, a man who wields a weapon as powerful as Angst’s. A weak fool, who I defeated! My arm, this arm,” he made a fist and shook it, “grew back, new and powerful. We are immortal, brothers and sisters. We cannot lose. We have nothing to fear from a physical attack. We will defeat the giants, and all other nations will fear us. But first, we hunt for Angst. Join me on the march to Nordruaut.”

  “Insanity,” Gath cried out. “Guards, take this traitor in chains, or kill him now. I’m done wasting my time.”

  Soldiers closest looked up at Lurp. The giant creature licked its nose thoughtlessly before peering at them. They shuffled back to the safety of the crowd.

  “Guards!” Gath commanded again.

  “I tried,” Guldrich said with a sigh, looking at Felicia, who nodded vigorously in agreement. He pointed at Gath. “Lurp, feed!”

  Guldrich turned away as Lurp grabbed the screaming emperor. There was a loud crunch followed by cries from nearby soldiers. Blood and carcass spilled at his feet. He pointed at General Arbeter. Lurp’s giant hand scooped him up like a bug, and the general’s fearful screams were cut short as teeth gnashed on bone. Guldrich held up a hand and approached Beld. He said nothing.

  Beld immediately fell to his knees. “Emperor Guldrich!” Beld cried, touching his forehead to the ground.

  Guldrich smiled.

  4

  Unsel

  “Why would I destroy Ehrde?” Angst asked, dumbfounded. “That wouldn’t even cross my mind...most days.”

  “It’s not why, Angst, it’s when,” Aerella said forcefully. “I need to clearly understand what point of time I’m in. What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “I was talking with Victoria before her inauguration,” Angst said, his heart speeding. “Her cousin, Alloria, snuck into the room, stabbed her with a dagger, and ran out.”

  “Why didn’t you just remove the dagger and heal her?” Aerella asked, frowning sternly.

  “It’s a foci. Actually, half a foci. Jormbrinder the Exception,” Angst explained. His words came out thick and heavy. To him, the attack on Victoria had just happened. And now he was supposedly destroying Ehrde? He wanted to pass out again, but his roiling stomach wouldn’t let him.

  “Jormbrinder...I hate that one,” she said with a harrumph. “Yes, I’m familiar. Amongst other things, it dampens magic. A lot. You couldn’t have healed her, or even pulled it free without the other half.”

  “That’s what Dulgirgraut told me, so I cast the spell, the same one your father used,” Angst explained. “I even uttered the words, ‘at all costs.’”

  “Good thing you failed,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his stomach gurgling loudly. What else had he done wrong?

  “My father’s spell cursed Gressmore Towers and its inhabitants to relive the same day for two thousand years. Your spell should’ve done the same thing. Instead, you slowed time, and only in Victoria’s room. It isn’t supposed to work like that. I’m not even sure how you accomplished it. Maybe Jormbrinder affected the spell.”

  “I don’t understand everything you’re saying,” Faeoris said. “But now that you’ve got two swords, could that have...”

  “You what?” Aerella shouted, balling up her fists. “You actually bonded with another?”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Angst started to explain.

  “I told you not to!” Aerella’s husky voice became louder, yet her throat sounded dry and scratchy. “Do you know how hard it was to project myself into your dreams from another place...another time? Each time I did, I’d pass out for days. I could’ve been killed!”

  “Well, you weren’t very clear about it,” Angst said defensively. “You said not to bond with another. I’d just lost Chryslaenor and had to bond with Dulgirgraut or I would’ve died. Nothing happened...well, other than living. I thought that’s what you meant by ‘another.’”

  “You should pay attention! I meant you shouldn’t bond with two at the same time,” Aerella snapped. “How did you do it, anyway?”

  “Some tall, old wielder was trying to force Chryslaenor to bond with Rose. She was in pain. It could’ve killed her. So, I did the only thing I could think of to save her. I bonded with Chryslaenor instead. I thought it would kill me, and Dulgirgraut hated it, but Jormbrinder was stuck to me. Half of it, anyway. And Rose was holding onto my leg. I can only guess that between Jormbrinder dampening magic and Rose’s healing, I was able to bond with the second foci,” Angst said.

  “A perfect storm,” Aerella said, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Not really perfect. I sort of exploded,” Angst said with a shudder. “Not really my favorite thing to do...”

  “What do you mean you exploded?” she asked, her eyes wide. “You didn’t explode. You’re not in little pieces.”

  “He did,” Faeoris said, her eyes glassy. “I saw it. I thought...we all thought you’d died.”

  “Then...how are you still here?” Aerella asked.

  “Because I’m not done yet,” he said with finality. “I willed myself back together.”

  Her eyes widened with fright and awe, her jaw lowered, and she gripped her chest. Angst sought Heather, who was pale and looked sick with worry. This probably hadn’t been the best time to tell that particular story.

  “What else was I supposed to do?” he asked the room, a little too loudly. “I wasn’t going to let anyone die. I had to go be a hero...why are you all looking at me like I’m a monster?”

  “You aren’t supposed to be able to do that, Angst. Nobody is.” Aerella seemed to be breathing very fast.

  “Well, I did,” Angst said. “See? I’ve done the impossible; what could possibly go wrong now?”

  Everyone moaned, and he couldn’t help but smirk at the reaction.

  “I’ve been to the future,” she said. “The details of what happened are unclear. Historians believe that being bonded with two foci drove you mad. In your madness, you broke Ehrde.”

  Heather pulled a baby from Angst’s arm before he could reply. He didn’t know if his wife was upset or scared until a wave of emotion struck him like a slap. Upset was an understatement. Faeoris hesitantly took the other child, looking at the baby as if it were covered in warts.

  “We’re going home,” Heather said, her cheeks blotchy. “We’ll be there when you’re ready to talk.”

  “I’ll fetch you after I see them home safely,” Faeoris said warningly, spinning on the heel of her tall black boot.

  “That should be fun,” Angst said with a deep sigh.

  “No,” Faeoris said over one shoulder, “it won’t be.”

  The guards stepped out of her way as she stomped after Heather, both holding their breath until the Berfemmian was out of sight. Physician Nynette glanced over her patients, shook her head, and followed the parade of angry women and cranky babies. Angst fell back against his lumpy pillow, not knowing if he should chase after them or stay hiding here, wallowing in self-pity. Wallowing sounded safer.

  “Is your life always this complicated?” Aerella asked.

  “You don’t even know,” he said.

  Aerella got up from her creaky bed and walked barefoot around his to the other side of the room. He flopped his head over to watch as she inspected Jaden. Her small hand glowed a gentle yellow, the soft color of spring tulips, and she placed it on the young man’s forehead.

  “Hmm,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Is that your diagnosis?” Angst asked, grouchy at the sudden change in topic. How does one go from ‘You’re going to break Ehrde’ to molesting an unconscious man’s forehead without pause?

  She ignored him, resting her fingers on Jaden’s face, occasionally moving them around as if re-sculpting
it. After many long moments, she spoke. “He’s fine.”

  “Then why isn’t he waking up like we did?” Angst asked.

  “He’s fine in the sense that he’s still alive,” she said, turning to face him. “He’s time-locked. His mind is still stuck in that spell you tried to cast.”

  “How do you know I cast it wrong?” he snapped. “Have you ever cast the spell?”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t have a foci.”

  “I have two,” he replied.

  “But the results were different for my father,” she said.

  “Maybe the spell does what you need it to. Maybe it adapts for different foci,” he said, arguing away his grouch. “Or for different people?”

  “That’s not how magic works,” she said, her brows knitting.

  “Last time you were here, you said magic changes,” Angst continued. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, that’s not how it’s supposed to work,” she said firmly. She stared into his eyes for a long time before looking at the ground. “No, I’m not completely sure.”

  The tension in his shoulders eased, and he took a breath. He needed answers more than he needed to verbally abuse someone.

  “Why was he even in there?” Angst asked, but he already knew the answer. Jaden and Tori had been falling in love when the princess ran off to adventure with Angst. The idiot had probably jumped in to save her. “Never mind. Will he wake up?”

  “When the spell is broken,” she replied, walking over to his bed and sitting down. She reached out and placed her hands on his forehead.

  He grabbed her wrists and pushed them away gently.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “You said you were here to stop me. We aren’t going to fight, are we?” He tried to remain calm. She was powerful, her knowledge of magic far surpassing his, or even Dallow’s.

  “I thought we were fighting,” she said, her lip curling in a half-smile.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, embarrassed. He’d forgotten how cute she was. “I mean, you know, do battle.”

  She laughed and pulled her hands back. “I don’t wield a foci.”

  “And I wield—”

  “Two. I heard you.” Aerella grunted. “We just went over this. I even vaguely remember telling you not to.”

  “Vaguely?” he asked. “It was just a couple months ago.”

  “For you,” she said. “I have a different relationship with time.”

  “What do you mean, relationship?” Angst asked. So little of what she said made sense, a direct answer would be welcome.

  “I’m not usually stuck in any single period for very long,” she replied patiently. “Our paths have crossed, or will cross, many times, Angst. But I think, for me, this may be the last time.”

  “So we are going to battle,” he said, unable to hide the concern in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” she said. “And I have no plans to battle you. I’m here to guide you through the rough journey ahead. If I understand when I am, things are going to get worse.”

  “Don’t they always,” Angst said, letting out a deep sigh.

  She hovered over him for a second, but seemed to reconsider touching his forehead and instead gave him a friendly hug.

  “Thanks,” he said, gently returning it.

  “It’s good to see you again,” she said. “You’ve been one of my closest friends, and an anchor for me. I was angry with you when I was pulled away from my father and Gressmore, but I would’ve died. Instead, I’ve lived a lifetime full of adventure, and I...” She clutched her stomach and let out a moan, sitting abruptly on the cot.

  Angst shuffled to one side, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  She continued groaning and lay down beside him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, inching away to make room on the small bed. “Do you need the physician?”

  “I’m not sure.” She grunted, her body tense. “I think...there is nothing she can do.”

  A cough interrupted Angst before he could ask what she meant. General Mirot entered the room, his hands behind his back and shoulders at attention. The general had been one of Isabelle’s advisors and had a reputation for voting against any law supporting wielders. He gazed at them with the cool watchful eye of a seasoned veteran who’d lived through many a battle. Mirot didn’t sneer or look down at Angst judgmentally, but he watched cautiously. Angst had seen Hector look at people that way, right before killing them.

  “Am I interrupting anything?” Mirot asked.

  “Just sick people being sick,” Angst said wryly. “Welcome to the infirmary.”

  “Thank you for pointing that out,” Mirot said, his cheeks reddening.

  “Are you sick?” Angst asked. “Or were you just hoping to see dead wielders?”

  “I didn’t come to argue, Mr. Angst,” Mirot said.

  “You’re the first,” Angst replied.

  The tension in Aerella’s body lessened. She was shaking slightly, but she still pulled away and sat up. Her forehead glistened with beads of sweat.

  “I’m fine now,” she said dismissively.

  “I’m not sure I agree,” Angst said. “There’s no hurry to get up.”

  “No, it’s okay,” she replied, abruptly standing. Her cheeks flushed crimson. “How can we help you?”

  “Right,” Mirot said with a wince. It looked like the man was biting his tongue. “Wilfred would like to see you.”

  “Wilfred the Short?” Angst asked. “How’s my buddy?”

  “Ahem.” Mirot coughed into a hand before replying, his voice heavy with formality. “Your buddy, Wilfred the Wise, seems to be tired from running Unsel.”

  5

  Angst stood in front of the doorway of Victoria’s room. A shimmer in the air defined the barrier of time he’d created with Dulgirgraut. He wanted to reach out to her, to pluck her from this prison he’d created. Bonded to both swords, he should have enough power to heal her, and then everything could go back to normal. Whatever that was. A long, triangular dagger stuck out of her chest, and drops of blood hung in the air, their falling slowed by his spell. Angst clutched his fists as the memory flashed before him. He needed to find Alloria. She had the other half; maybe she could remove it. He needed to find her, now.

  “Angst,” Wilfred pleaded from the hallway behind him. “Unsel is in great danger.”

  “Exactly why I’m going to leave,” Angst replied firmly, turning to face Wilfred and Aerella. “I’m going to help by saving Victoria. Unsel needs her.”

  “Please, my friend,” Wilfred said. “She may already be dead, and our nation could soon follow.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “War, Angst.” Wilfred leaned back against a wall in the hallway. He appeared exhausted; deep circles had burrowed between his thick cheeks and tired eyes. “In the three months you’ve been...unavailable, the Fulk’han have been raiding our border towns to the east. Civil war has broken out between east and west Nordruaut. Melkier is amassing a new army and getting ready to march on our southern borders, and Rohjek...” The short man grabbed the girth of his belly and looked down, as if trying not to vomit.

  “What happened to Rohjek?” Angst asked softly.

  “Gone, all of it.” Wilfred was pale and shaken. “Burnt to ashes by Fire and dragons.”

  “No,” Angst said in disbelief, waiting for the temporary king to say it was a bad joke. He didn’t.

  “It’s chaos,” Wilfred said, breathing in heavily. “We’ve heard reports that Fulk’han will attack Unsel soon. We believe the raids are merely testing our defenses.”

  The zealots in Fulk’han hated him for killing their god, Takarn-Ivan, and Melkier blamed Angst for destroying their city, and they were both partially right. Had he actually been a hero, or a catalyst for disaster? Angst avoided Wilfred’s gaze, feeling guilty for putting Unsel in the middle of this war that wasn’t his. He couldn’t even believe that Rohjek was go
ne. How could an entire nation be destroyed?

  “This isn’t your fault, Angst,” Aerella said knowingly. “This happens every two thousand years. The elements pit humans against each other, distracting us from their war. Weeding us out so we aren’t a danger. I’ve watched this happen, time and time again.”

  Angst shook his head. It was all too much to take in. Of course, he didn’t want to leave Unsel in danger, but Victoria... He faced Wilfred. “So, you’re saying I need to hurry.”

  Wilfred grunted, his hands balled into fists. “You’re every bit as aggravating as Isabelle said.”

  “Well, what do you expect? She hated me,” Angst said flippantly.

  “No, not really,” Wilfred said. “She feared you, respected you, and you pissed her off, frequently. She never hated you.”

  “I seem to get that from a lot of people,” Angst said. “I need to find Alloria and the other half of Jormbrinder. That’s our best chance to save Tori.”

  “How do you propose we do that?” Aerella asked.

  “Can’t you cast something to find Jormbrinder?” he asked, waving his hand magically.

  She shook her head.

  A blue glow emanated from Chryslaenor, and Angst listened to the song. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

  “Chryslaenor can’t locate it either,” he said. “I can’t imagine that a spell hasn’t been created to locate other foci.”

  “Maybe,” Aerella said hesitantly. “There may have been some knowledge in the Gressmore library, a spell in one of the tomes. But those volumes are lost to time and the dragons who burned them.”

  “Dallow!” Angst said, snapping his fingers. “Dallow is a reader. He absorbed every book he could find during our visit.”

  “Then let’s ask him,” Aerella said with a smile.

  “That’s the other thing, Angst,” Wilfred said. “Rose, Tarness, Dallow, and Hector haven’t made it back yet.”

  “Of course not,” Angst said with a sigh. “Why would this be easy?”

  “Then we must find your friends in order to find the other half of Jormbrinder,” Aerella said.