Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

  “I...” he stuttered. He didn’t know what to do. Should he dig a hole and cover them? Could he blast the falling star from the sky? They only had moments. “I can’t!”

  “Angst!” Aerella shouted, pulling him to face her. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes!” he said, without hesitation.

  “Maarja,” she cried. “A hundred miles from here. Think of a place.”

  “What?” Maarja said slowly.

  “You were guiding us,” Aerella said. “Focus on a safe place, far from here. Now!”

  “Yes, I’ve got it,” Maarja said.

  “I need all your power, Angst,” she said, reaching for his hand. “All of it!”

  Angst took her hand and fed her everything he could. Her eyes widened with shock, and blood trickled from her nose and ears. She aged, and within a breath appeared two hundred and then twenty again as the power of an Al’eyrn with two foci flowed through her body. Somehow, she gathered herself enough to reach out for Maarja. The Nordruaut didn’t hesitate, taking the tiny hand in her own and squeezing her eyes shut. Aerella muttered some words, and a black vortex formed beneath them. Angst’s stomach sank as they fell. Powering the spell was exhausting in a way he hadn’t expected. A cold, numbing sensation coursed through him, followed by a flash of intense heat. Almost as if someone had grabbed him by the nape and shoved his head in freezing water, and then boiling water, again and again. Angst landed hard on his back, like an inverted belly flop.

  “Never done it like that.” Aerella grunted. “Do better next time.”

  He propped himself up on his elbows. Everything spun like a sweaty nightmare right before the worst hangover. In the far distance, there was a bright flash of light. The light of a star dying in the middle of Rohjek. It was a silent explosion, which made it all the more terrifying. The light faded, and everything went dark.

  40

  Eastern border of Unsel

  “Whoa,” Captain Kyle said, his face pale and sweat dripping down his cheeks. “I thought enlisting wielders was a terrible idea. I take it back. I take it all back!”

  Andec simply nodded, staring at the empty battlefield in shock. Every thrum from his tired heart was a reminder that he was too old for this. His breathing steadied once he realized they hadn’t been trampled by the angry horde of Fulk’han, or skewered in a sword fight he didn’t belong near. Soon after, reason pried the fear from his brain, it began to start working again, and it had a question.

  What was that thing? Sure, it was a portal, but nothing like the ones he could make. His were horizontal, lying on the ground like a dark lake of oil. People would fall through, for what felt like a foot, and end up where he wanted them to. Porting himself around town didn’t take much effort. Moving a group of people several miles reminded him of his age; anything more would probably kill him. That could mean the Fulk’han army was nearby. A sudden, sharp slap on his back was a brisk cue that the shiny captain was still talking.

  “...and you all deserve commendations for this bit of magics!” Captain Kyle pulled back his slapping arm. “I was ready for battle, of course, but you just saved a lot of lives.”

  “That wasn’t me,” Andec said, his low voice shaky.

  “Oh,” Kyle said, looking around coyly as though he’d maybe said too much. “Well, if it wasn’t any of you, then what happened?”

  “They made a giant portal and the entire Fulk’han army ran through,” Andec explained.

  “To where?” Nikkola asked, looking several shades paler than normal.

  “Anywhere,” Andec said, grabbing the captain’s arm. “We need an immediate sweep of the area.”

  “You don’t give the commands here.” Kyle jerked his arm free.

  “Captain,” Andec said, attempting to rein in his growing panic. “They could’ve taken that portal and appeared right past us. Those creatures could be racing toward the castle ten miles down the road.”

  Kyle’s eyes went wide.

  “No wielder has the power to move an army like that very far,” Andec explained. “Ten miles, best guess, in any direction.

  “Okay,” Kyle said with a crisp nod. His eyes became so cold, it was almost impossible to see the worry in them. The captain barked out orders, making everyone nearby scurry to follow commands.

  “Andec,” Simon said. “It’s Sean. My brother says there’s still something alive out there. The birds told him. We should hurry. They’re getting ready to feed on the remains.”

  “Mount up,” Andec said, summoning his swifen.

  “What’s this?” Captain Kyle asked, looking around irritably at the menagerie of animals that suddenly appeared.

  “One of the Fulk’han was left behind,” Andec said. “We’re going to see if we can learn what this was about.”

  “When you’re done, we’re going to have a discussion about the chain of command,” Kyle said sternly and immediately followed up with an answer to Andec’s rolling eyes. “It’s for your safety, and for theirs.” He pointed around at all the soldiers, his finger finally landing on the wielders.

  “Fine,” Andec said gruffly. “We should go. There may not be much time.”

  Kyle whistled and waved over eight soldiers. Most of them approached with hand on hilt, wary of the magics at play and the dangerous looking swifen. When Nikkola tapped one on his shoulder, he turned around and she blew him a kiss, making him jump back.

  “Commander Mirim, you and your soldiers stay close to Andec, and follow his orders. Remember, we’re on the same team,” Kyle said sternly before turning to the wielders. “Be patient with them. They aren’t comfortable with magics. Neither am I. Listen to the Commander. She knows what she’s doing. And remember, we’re on the same team.”

  They waited for the soldiers to mount their war horses and then waited for them to keep up, unable to maintain the swifens’ pace. At Andec's command, the soldiers and zyn'ight spread out to search the area.

  Dark wisps of thick purple and orange smoke drifted from the remnants of the portal, looking like everything you wouldn’t want to breathe. The front, and back, of several Fulk’han carcasses lay scattered about, like remnants of a battle, one that hadn’t taken place. The top half of a blue woman crawled away from the center. She moaned softly, her body unwilling to let go of life. A pair of dismembered, bone-encased, gray-man legs, and several other appendages, squirmed helplessly like earthworms cut in half.

  Jace scrambled off his swifen, dropped to all fours, and emptied his stomach. A soldier dismounted beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “The bodies shouldn’t be moving,” another soldier said, swallowing hard.

  “No, they shouldn’t,” Andec said, dismissing his swifen and taking a hesitant step forward. “This is wrong.”

  “Look there.” Nikkola pointed.

  A breath of wind lazily brushed thick smoke away, revealing a Fulk’han gray man. One remained. Out of the entire army, one Fulk’han stood his ground. The gray man looked bewildered, like a puppy dropped out of a wagon and left behind. He was a third taller than the largest Unsel soldier, and covered in dark gray leathery protrusions like a turtle’s shell. The Fulk’han’s hands resembled a monkey’s paws with three fingers and sharp claws, and his muscular arms reached his knees. Silvery eyes peered out from the shadow of a diamond-shaped bone helm that matched the bone armor around his chest. When he saw them, the beast didn’t panic. He braced himself. His chest heaved as he crouched, ready to charge. Just as the Fulk’han rawred, Andec opened a portal beneath his feet.

  After a tense, hushed moment, the commander asked, “Where did he go?”

  Andec pointed up but said nothing.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “Wait for it,” Andec muttered.

  There was a quiet wail that quickly grew louder. Mirim tried stepping forward, but Andec held out an arm.

  “Wait for it,” he said.

  The desperate cry became louder yet until it ended abruptly with a disconcer
ting crunch. Nikkola jumped back with a squeak. The Fulk’han splattered, dark blood spraying from the impact of his landing like a waterfall on stone.

  “What did you do?” Nikkola asked. “He could’ve told us what just happened!”

  “She’s right, we could’ve used...” The commander’s breath caught and her eyes grew wide. “What’s this?”

  The Fulk’han pushed himself up to his hands and knees, blood dripping from his face and chest like a wrung towel. Awe overtook them like a barrier they were reluctant to push through. Breaths passed as the gray man shakily stood, his bones reforming and his skin knitting shut.

  “I think I’m going to throw up again,” Jace announced.

  “Me too,” said the soldier who’d assisted him.

  The Fulk’han shook his head as though waking from a dream, crouched, and prepared to leap forward.

  “Oooookay,” Andec said, rubbing his hands together. “Calm down or it’ll be worse.”

  He was answered with another rawr and sighed. The gray man yelped as another portal sucked him into the ground.

  “This will take a little longer,” Andec warned. “Stay back. I’m not completely sure how big the impact will be.”

  “Did he just come back to life?” Nikkola asked.

  “I don’t know. After seeing these moving remains, I assumed he’d live through the fall. I didn’t expect him to heal so quickly,” Andec said in disbelief. “I never intended to kill him.”

  “You almost killed me,” Nikkola declared. “I almost had a heart attack!”

  “You meant to incapacitate him,” the commander said, her tone filled with admiration.

  “How are you able to drop him in the same spot?” Amay asked. The young woman watched the skies nervously.

  “Practice,” Andec said, unable to hold back a smile.

  “Incoming!” Jace said, holding his arms over his head.

  The gray man flattened on impact, striking the ground hard enough to create a small crater. Those nearest were sprayed with dirt, bone, and blood. The remains of the Fulk’han’s body were almost unrecognizable, but everyone inched forward cautiously. When they arrived, mere feet away, Nikkola gasped.

  “I don’t believe this,” Andec said, closing his eyes.

  The mass of bone and skin moved. White sinews crept out, grasping for parts that littered the ground and reabsorbing them into the whole. The reforming body looked like a wet, sloppy puzzle that already had arms and legs. It shuddered as bones clicked, setting back into place.

  “We don’t have much time,” Nikkola warned.

  “Allow us,” Commander Mirim said, nodding to her soldiers.

  The commander and three of her guard unsheathed their longswords, each finding a place around the sprawled body. She kicked the gray man over onto his back, his healing arms sprawled. With a nod, they simultaneously stabbed their weapons into an appendage, pinning the Fulk’han to the ground. The Fulk’han screamed, his head rocking back and forth as the soldiers threw their weight down on top of the weapons, jamming them into the earth as deeply as they could.

  “I’m glad we’re on the same side,” Andec said dryly.

  “Me too,” Mirim said with a wicked grin.

  “Hey, ugly,” Andec said, kneeling beside the body. He twirled a finger in the air. “What was all this about?”

  “I'll tell you nothing,” the Fulk'han muttered around his quickly reforming jaw.

  “You moan like a baby when your body splatters across the field,” Andec said. “I’m guessing that even though you heal, it still hurts.”

  “I won’t talk!” he screamed, bloody spittle spraying from his mouth.

  “Commander,” Andec said calmly as he stood. “Would your soldiers mind terribly running back to camp and getting lunch? I’m going to drop him from that cloud about a dozen more times. It’s going to take a while.”

  “Wait,” the gray man said, looking about frantically.

  “Bread and cheese?” the commander asked.

  “Dried meat sounds good. I don’t mind field rations. Would you happen to have a chair?” He plopped to the ground and crossed his legs. “This cold ground isn’t good for my old bones, and that’s a very long way to fall.”

  “Sorry, no chairs,” the commander said. “We do have blankets.”

  “That’ll do,” Andec said with a grin.

  “Maybe towels too,” Nikkola requested, wiping Fulk’han off her armor. “He makes a big mess.”

  “Angst!” their prisoner cried out. “We brought our champion to capture Angst!”

  “So, all of you, that entire army, came to nab Angst?” Andec asked.

  “They really hate him, don’t they?” Jace asked. “How many people did he piss off?”

  “Our champion will break Angst for killing Takarn-Ivan!” the gray man spat.

  “I think he’s telling the truth,” Commander Mirim said.

  “But not all of the truth,” Andec said.

  “Do they realize that Angst isn’t in Unsel?” Jace asked.

  Everyone looked at him with admonishing eyes.

  “Uh, you know,” Jace said, his cheeks reddening. “Because that was supposed to be a secret.”

  The gray man’s eyes were wild, and he began to struggle against the restraining swords.

  “I don’t think it was a secret, Jace. I think the Fulk’han already knew,” Commander Mirim said. She stared at the Fulk’han quizzically. “But how would you know where Angst went?”

  “More importantly,” Andec said. “Why capture him, unless Angst has something they want?”

  There was a crunch of bone as one of the gray man’s arms pulled through a sword.

  “Drop him!” the commander said.

  Andec squinted as he focused on the size of the portal. It slowly grew beneath the man’s rear to encompass his calves and torso, and then stopped. The gray man cried out in fear, the three swords pinning his legs and arm the only thing keeping him from falling through.

  “The prize!” he cried out. “Angst knows where to find Prendere. The most powerful weapon on Ehrde. Fulk’han will win it and control everything.”

  Andec released the portal, and the gray man yelped before blacking out.

  “Oops,” Andec said apologetically, standing up and moving back.

  “Oops?” Mirim asked as everyone followed.

  A glob of gray man landed with a squishing sound on top of their captive. The spine writhed like a snake, even while the gray man’s body convulsed.

  “His, uh, back end must’ve still been in the portal when I let it close,” Andec said with a wince.

  “Gross,” Nikkola said, turning away and covering her mouth.

  “Gather the other body parts. We burn them all,” Mirim said to the soldiers. “And look for more survivors in the area. We need to understand what the monster was talking about. What in Ehrde is Prendere?”

  41

  Rohjek

  Angst woke to the sounds of deep sobs. He’d heard Tarness cry like that, in his low, booming voice. This wasn’t Tarness; it had to be Maarja. But why sobs? His mind tried to slowly creep from its slumber, but his body rebelled. It was like one giant cramp that encompassed every muscle, even his brain. Angst winced through the pathetic struggle to push himself up, his muscles begging him to stop, and his tendons wrenching as if never used.

  An enormous dragon had bitten down hard on his arm, almost tearing it off. His limb sort of worked, after Aerella’s quick patch job, but didn’t feel right, or whole. His entire chest throbbed in pain from another dragon that had carried him off like a puppy’s bone. At least that meant he was alive.

  He’d apparently gotten away with a brief nap after they’d ported to this place. But it wasn’t nearly enough to cleanse the bone-deep exhaustion that threatened to shut his eyes, if only for another minute. His eyes opened wide at Maarja's cries, even if his brain was still half asleep. But, why was she sobbing? And then he remembered. Jintorich.

  His friends s
at around the maw of a large hole in the ground. Kala held Scar, and both nestled comfortably into a middle-aged Aerella’s lap. Faeoris held herself, perhaps for warmth or courage as she looked at Maarja. The Nordruaut woman rocked back and forth, clutching the small bundle of Jintorich in her arms. Angst stood shakily and wobbled over to Faeoris, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him, her large eyes glassy and her lip trembling. Faeoris gave him a crushing hug and sobbed loudly into his shoulder.

  His heart felt cold, another death washing over him like a frozen river. That cold numbed his brain, as if there was no use even trying to make sense of anything anymore. His life was becoming as tragic as everything happening on Ehrde. The only warmth he felt, deep down, buried in layers of his onion, was a burning rage. That fury struggled to be set free, the yearning to let it loose was almost uncontrollable, but the numbness was so much safer.

  Angst patted Faeoris on the back, stroking her fine hair. He was sure she wiped her nose on his cloak before pulling away. He touched her tears with the back of his hand, and she nodded gratefully. He broached Maarja, and she stopped rocking. She took a deep breath, and held the sobs in. The pretty, young Nordruaut looked more human, more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.

  “His will be a great story,” Angst said, his throat dry and scratchy. “The greatest.”

  “It will be the best, Angst,” she said, her voice filled with pride. “I don’t cry just because I lost a friend today. His was a great hunt. I cry because he is the last of a people. The last Meldusian.”

  “Yes,” Angst said solemnly. “One, one of many.” He’d never understood what Jintorich meant by that, and wished there was another moment left to ask. “How would you like to honor him? In Unsel, we bury our dead.”

  “No,” she snapped. “When this is done, he will be honored as Nordruaut.”

  “If it’s permitted, I would like to attend,” Angst said gently.

  She only nodded, but seemed amicable, her composure returning. Kala sniffled loudly, and Scar gave her hand a lick. Angst approached them and knelt, petting the lab pup.