Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

  “Because she had to have read it somewhere. Maybe in the library,” Dallow said.

  “So...” Hector said, impatient for the punchline.

  “Every lost language has keys. Words that help unlock the rest,” Dallow explained with a tired grin. “I don’t think the little liar is bonded, or even knows how to use her foci, but it helped her understand at least some of Ughcratic.”

  “So what do we do now?” Hector asked.

  “What you should always do when you need to figure something out,” Dallow said, his face brightening. “Go to a library.”

  43

  Sotherscra

  Faeoris flew Aerella down first, followed by Kala and Scar. Maarja climbed down on her own, mumbling something about the Berfemmian dropping her. Faeoris peered down the hole after the Nordruaut coldly.

  “We’ll wait for you to finish climbing, so it’s not too crowded,” she said with a little bitchiness in her voice. She looked at Angst and sized him up. “Will you ever tell me the full truth?”

  “Fine, I’ll admit it,” he said after a long sigh. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve seen in all of Ehrde. There! Please don’t be angry.”

  She smiled, in spite of herself, and gave him a quick hug that only hurt a little. “Quit teasing,” she said, her cheeks pinking prettily.

  “I’ll tell you anything, Faeoris,” he said, and he meant it.

  “Why is Aerella worried about your swords?” she asked.

  “She’s right. I struggle with them. They both want the same thing, exclusivity. They want me, but they have to share.”

  “I don’t like sharing,” she said darkly.

  He smiled. “Neither do my foci, and together, they probably have enough power to split this world in half. They also help me a lot, though usually too much. The swords talk to me through song, in my head, all the time. That music is sometimes loud, rarely in harmony, and the information is often more than I can handle. Since bonding with another, it’s a constant battle to hear my own thoughts. It would be maddening, if I let it.”

  “How do you manage?” she asked, her thin brows in a furrow.

  “Let me tell you about this gorgeous friend of mine,” he said with a wide grin. “She doesn’t wear much, and is the best distraction ever.”

  “Stop,” Faeoris said. “You’re making me blush.”

  “Well, it’s true,” he said. “But really, I’ve got it under control. I can’t imagine what could possibly drive me over the edge. A silly cave certainly isn’t going to.”

  “If you say so,” she said, frowning.

  “Hey, I’ve got this,” he replied, not feeling quite as confident as his words. Really, though, what choice did he have? There seemed to be a constant cost to being a hero, and this was just one of them.

  Maarja grunted something, and it mingled with Scar’s bark echoing up the cave entrance. He smiled.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Wait until you see this cave,” she said, moving behind him and wrapping her arms around nicely, resting her hands on his chest. It was more of a hug than a hold, and he liked it.

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t be behind you, holding on?” he teased.

  “Sure, go ahead,” she said, her voice a little sultry.

  “Uh, this will work fine,” Angst grumbled. He hated being out-flirted.

  The cave entrance was mud, and rock, and roots, and everything you would expect to see when looking at a hole in the ground. It went straight down for half of forever, and Faeoris’s wings of light provided him an excellent view of brown dirt, and then red clay, followed by boring limestone. What was she so amazed by? They had to have limestone and dirt in Angoria. He enjoyed the hug far more than the view.

  Something glittered like a distant star, soon followed by more lights, now like fireflies. It was as if they were diving through the colorful burning ash of a campfire. The sparkles became blue and white and yellow, shining all around them. Dim at first then eventually brighter as crystalline formations grew out of the cave walls. The crystals became larger as they descended, until they were the size of Maarja or taller.

  Faeoris placed him down as gently as ever and, unfortunately, let go. She extinguished her wings, but a steady light from the crystals still surrounded them. Everyone but Maarja seemed as awestruck as he felt. The cave ahead was a wide trail of translucent, gently glowing crystals jutting out in all directions from the walls and ceiling. It was almost like being in the middle of a snowflake. A path along the floor had been stomped flat from centuries of foot traffic, wide enough for three humans, or one Nordruaut.

  “Are you okay?” Aerella asked. “That took a while.”

  “I had to pee,” Angst said.

  Kala giggled, and Angst winked.

  “Oh.” Aerella shook her head. “Well, now that business is taken care of, Maarja and I have been discussing strategy.”

  “Let me guess,” Angst said. “We walk to the end.”

  “Don’t be an ass,” Aerella snapped, her face, and temper, younger than when they’d entered the cave. “If any of the stories are true, we need to be careful.”

  “Angst,” Maarja said sternly. “Don’t look directly into the crystals.”

  “What if I do by accident?” he asked.

  “Then look away,” Maarja said, her face even more sincere than usual.

  “What about blindfolds?” Kala asked.

  “Great idea, little genius,” Angst said with a nod.

  She beamed at the recognition.

  “They could still affect you, just slower,” Maarja said, looking around nervously. “It would be better to run through then walk slowly and expose yourself longer.”

  “You can’t let yourself be drawn into the visions,” Aerella urged. “Let your mind go blank. If you see something, remember that it isn’t real. Don’t get lost in fantasy.”

  “First time for everything,” Angst said, winking at Faeoris.

  She replied with a short, nervous laugh.

  “Angst, we’re going to have a buddy system in case we get separated. Maarja will lead Kala and I, and you will stay close to Faeoris. We’re hoping Faeoris doesn’t get affected by the crystals just like Maarja, since they aren’t exactly human,” she said gently.

  “I couldn’t be happier about that,” Faeoris said with a sniff.

  “That way, if the rest of us are drawn into the crystals, they can quickly pull us free,” she said.

  “Sounds good to me,” he said, looking at the Berfemmian. “Think you can handle my fantasies?”

  “I look forward to it,” she said with a broad smile.

  Maarja and Aerella sighed.

  “Should I tell Heather about this, too?” Kala whispered.

  “Definitely,” Aerella said, not whispering.

  “What are we waiting for?” Angst asked, ready for a few moments away from the ethics committee.

  “Run,” Maarja said, holding out a large hand for Aerella to grasp.

  Maarja kept her pace at a slow jog, which meant Angst was gasping for breath and sweating within a minute. He held hands with Faeoris, his grip slick with perspiration. She didn’t say anything, but he certainly thought it. Could he be any older at this moment? A little endurance fed to him by the swords would’ve been nice, but he was pretty sure they laughed at this thought. Jerks.

  The cave seemed to go forever. They’d already been jogging for easily three entire minutes. He wanted to suggest that they ride swifen, but was trying to keep his lungs’ desperate pleas for oxygen as quiet as possible.

  “Mom?” Kala called out.

  “Kala,” Aerella said. “Look away.”

  “Mom, I’m sorry,” the girl said. “What? You’re not angry?”

  “Faster,” Maarja urged.

  “I can’t,” Angst wheezed.

  He didn’t understand the need to hurry; beauty surrounded them. His lungs burned, and he just wanted to slow down and admire the pretty rocks. His eyes were drawn to them like he
was drunk and couldn’t take his eyes off a beautiful woman. He practically leered at a large crystal, and his feet slowed to a shuffle.

  “Tori?” he asked.

  “Yes, my king,” she said, wrapping her naked body around his.

  “Go,” Faeoris snapped.

  He dragged himself out of the delusional quicksand and made a mental note to finish that fantasy later. But, why did Faeoris sound so stern? There was something he shouldn’t be looking at, but not this. This had to be a daydream. He wasn’t really so exhausted from this short run that he was starting to see things. Not wanting to anger her again, Angst focused on Maarja in the distance, who slowly pulled away from them.

  “Father,” Aerella said, her voice echoing down the cavern. “You’re still alive! It’s good to be home.”

  “No,” Maarja yelled. “Get up. Keep going!”

  Angst continued to stare at the Nordruaut, but in his periphery were visions he longed to be real, and some he feared.

  He was under the sea, Moyra was alive, and his exotic mermaid placed her mouth against his so they could breathe.

  He left himself chained to a bed so Faeoris could finish what she’d started.

  Tori lay next to him, soft, and warm, and very, very naked.

  The twins, those beautiful young women, grasping at him, reaching into his pockets, asking about a foci.

  Ivan, alive and well, walking beside him and Alloria, making him long to beat the man’s face to a pulp one last time.

  He lay on the edge of the maiden’s courtyard, looking off into madness. The sinkhole that had eaten part of the castle was now filled with orange Vex’kvette that flowed away from Unsel like a river. Dragons of all size flew overhead.

  A creature Angst didn’t recognize, like a giant gamlin in a collared shirt, handed him a notched coin. Hadn’t Aerella called it a gear?

  It was getting harder and harder to concentrate through the onslaught of images that could happen, and some he wished would. He needed to keep moving, but the images were glue to his feet, and he was so tired. His pace slowed with Faeoris, and she let go of his hand.

  “Mom,” she said. “You made it. You’re alive. We're back from Vex’steppe. I am? I’m pregnant?”

  “Faeoris, no,” he said weakly as Maarja ran out of sight. All he could see was crystals.

  “Angst?” Heather called out. “Angst, you’re home!”

  “I am,” he said in wonder.

  He took her in, and she looked incredible. They were still older, he was still chubby, her hair still teased some grays, but it didn’t matter. Heather looked hungry for him, the passion in her eyes the same as when they’d fallen in love. She wasn’t angry, or ready to argue; she was simply happy to see him.

  “I heard about all of it!” she said. “I’m so proud of you for being a hero. Not just a knight, a zyn’ight. And now that Unsel is safe, we can be together.”

  “I did it for you, for them,” he said, feeling more fulfilled than ever. “Are they sleeping? Is Thom and...”

  “Both are in bed,” she replied with a hungry smile. “We should be too.”

  He heard something, a distant chitter, but ignored it. Nothing could be more important than this. He’d lived his destiny, fulfilled his dreams, and his reward was family.

  He was a zyn’ight of Unsel. He could wield magic freely. He knew in his heart that all his friends lived and were safe. Weren’t they meeting for drinks at the Wizard’s Revenge tomorrow night? It had to be after seeing Queen Victoria. It didn’t matter, nothing else mattered as he began unbuttoning his wife’s blouse.

  “All I ever wanted to be was your hero,” he said.

  He looked into her eyes, but pulled back as her face distorted, becoming larger, finally transforming into... Maarja?

  “Angst, I’m sorry,” she said.

  The blur of her enormous fist raced toward him, and all went dark.

  44

  Nordruaut

  While a loud thump and some rude jostling woke Angst, the smell was what made him open his eyes. He was face down in thick fur, his nose buried so deep, he felt like he was bobbing for apples in a haystack, and hoped he wouldn’t find one. His head throbbed from Maarja’s punch, and he needed air like he’d never breathed. Pushing himself up was impossible, his arms and legs were firmly tied to his smelly host that rocked back and forth at a vomit-inducing pace. The thick scent of animal made his nose drip and his throat scratchy.

  “At least I’m not on the inside,” he mumbled, certain it sounded more like, “Af leaf fur fur fur.”

  “Hold,” Maarja said from somewhere nearby. “Angst, do you want me to set you free?”

  “Mf fur fur cough sneeze,” he replied.

  The familiar sound of guttural laughter surrounded him. She apparently wasn’t the only Nordruaut nearby. That was good, but why was he tied up? Blood began to flow into his fingers and toes as the bindings loosened.

  “Hold still,” Maarja said, as if he had a choice.

  Something gripped his waist and plucked him free from the great expanse of coarse fur. He gasped at the blast of freezing air before immediately coughing and sneezing out animal. It was so cold he couldn’t catch his breath. Angst looked down. Maarja’s large hand was wrapped around his chest like she was preparing to throw a javelin. He pushed frantically at her fingers as panic overtook him. The strength in her hand was enough to crush his armor like an egg.

  “Set me down!” Angst commanded, unable to keep the quaver from his voice.

  More laughter didn’t help.

  “As you wish, human,” she said, placing him on top of the snow.

  “Thank—” He sank into deep snow until it reached his nose. “—you.”

  The laughter was hard to hear through his frustration. Throughout their entire journey, she’d barely cracked a smile at one of his jokes. Now she was the biggest comedian in Nordruaut, and at his expense. Wasn’t there a line in the hero book that read ‘something something something...it’s okay to kill people who mock you?’ He raised his arms without a word, and held onto Maarja’s outstretched hand as she lifted him up. She placed him once again on the enormous mass of fur. He stood on the beast, shakily, and stared at her. His Nordruaut friend wouldn’t make eye contact, avoiding him like he’d suddenly become the least popular kid in school.

  “This prisoner is supposed to champion us?” a Nordruaut woman called out. “The bokeen he rides on couldn’t even make a meal of him!”

  More laughter. They were certainly a lot heartier than he remembered. Yup, killing sounded about right, and then realization struck him, in the gut, with a cudgel.

  “Prisoner?” Angst asked, staring at his ‘friend.’ “Maarja?”

  She still wouldn’t look at him. Her fair cheeks reddened, and she sucked in her lips.

  “I deserve an explanation,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  “I was sent to retrieve you from Unsel,” she said in a hushed tone. “One way or another.”

  “Another way would’ve been better,” Angst growled. He was so disappointed it hurt, especially after all they’d been through. “If anyone else has been harmed...”

  “They’re unconscious...after the cave,” she said. “You should still be as well.”

  He covered his mouth with a hand. “That’s why you wanted to go in there so badly. Is that why we didn’t wear blindfolds?” Disappointment escaped his lungs in a deep sigh. “What I saw in there...was so real. Maarja, I don’t know if I’ll ever get over some of those visions. How could you think that was okay?”

  She shrugged and stared intently at the snow around her ankles. It was like talking to a teenager who’d stayed out too late...and kidnapped all his friends. Although, he supposed, she sort of was a teenager in Nordruaut years. That was still no excuse.

  “Where is everyone else?” he asked sternly.

  “You want me to quiet him?” a burly Nordruaut said from behind her. He was easily a head taller than Maarja.

  “And yo
u would be the smallest monster I’ve killed yet,” Angst said, reaching for his sword.

  “Angst, no,” she said, a slight quaver to her voice. She placed a warning hand on the man’s chest. “Please, Angst, everyone is fine, I promise. They are spread out too far for you to reach in time.”

  “In time for what?” he asked.

  “She said you could destroy all of us,” the man said in disbelief.

  Angst lifted his chin in the briefest of yup gestures.

  “But they would be dead before you found them all,” the man continued.

  For the first time since waking, Angst looked around. Standing atop the stinky bokeen mount, he had a good enough view to spy a caravan of one hundred or more Nordruaut and maybe twenty bokeen. But really, hiding in the blinding white of snow that formed tall mounds as far as he could see, there could’ve been more. It wasn’t comforting, and agitation rested at the base of his skull.

  “Yup,” Angst said.

  “Yup what?” the Nordruaut man asked.

  “I could kill every single one of you,” Angst said, crossing his arms.

  “No!” Maarja shouted, grabbing the man’s arm before he could wield a wicked looking staff that was wider than Angst.

  “Hey,” Angst taunted. “What’s your name?”

  “Gose,” the Nordruaut grunted. “Why?”

  “Just making a list,” Angst said, staring Gose down.

  “Go on, Gose,” Maarja said firmly. “Go cool off.”

  The large, angry Nordruaut stomped off through drifts of snow, Nordruaut winter steaming off his skin like a hot spring.

  “Shouldn’t be too hard to cool off out here,” Angst called after him. It had sounded much less stupid in his head.

  There was a shout from far ahead, and the caravan lumbered forward at a painfully slow pace. The bokeen must’ve immediately broken into a sweat, because the smell became the scent of sour towels left in the wash too long. He wanted to sit, and maybe eat something, but knew this wasn’t a good time because the stench would’ve ruined his meal. Instead, he stared at Maarja until she looked at him.

  “I’m sorry I hit you,” she said. “I tried to be gentle.”