The Duelist

by Eric Vall

  “Hah!” the ghost king barked and then vanished like mist even though I could still hear his voice ricocheting off the arched ceilings. “What is so honorable that you have to break into a sacred tomb and disturb my rest? Do you also dig up your cemeteries and disrupt your people’s eternal slumber?”

  “No, you’re right, I don’t make it a habit to desecrate a peaceful resting place just for my own greed,” I said. “I came here to gather enough gold so I might be able to afford a weapon to fight an enemy.”

  “You wish to defeat an opponent,” the ghostly voice whispered from over my shoulder, and I turned to my left in order to face it. “You mean to slay him for your own gain.”

  “I mean to slay him before he slays me,” I said with a scowl when I thought of stupid Ren and his stupid face.

  “What is so special about your life, then?” the king’s desert-dry voice crackled to my right, and I swiveled my head. “Are you a king?”

  “No, I am not that special, Your Majesty,” I corrected. “But my goal is to preserve the life of my wife. If I cannot defeat my foe, then he will probably do unspeakable things to her once he gets me out of the way.”

  “But if I don’t lift the curse, then that makes your need of my gold pointless because she will be dead anyway,” the voice said with a hiss at the end. Then the ghost-king abruptly appeared again like a TV flickering on, and he cocked his head and inhaled through what was left of his nose. “Unless…”

  “Unless, what?” I asked and squared my shoulders. “I can leave without taking any gold if that’s what it takes.”

  “You would abandon your quest for gold at the risk of forgoing your powerful weapon?” the ghost king sneered through his rotting teeth.

  “I will find another way to kill my enemy, but the life of my wife is non-negotiable,” I said as I took a step forward into the ghost king’s face.

  “Ahhhhh,” the king said as he inhaled once more through his creepy nose-holes. “That’s what woke me from my slumber-- the savory scent of a noble cause.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as he floated away from me and turned his back. I was suddenly put on my back foot as the menacing aura of the ghost king faded and left behind an oppressiveness more cold and bitter than aggressive, and it gave me a strange metallic aftertaste.

  “You might think stealing my gold was what woke me, and yes, it is true I can feel the strands of your beloved being plucked away even now,” the king said as he moved his bare boned fingers as if playing an invisible harp, “but I was actually roused from my sleep the moment you stepped on my mountain. I could smell the virtuous cause that pumps through your blood, and it’s been an age since I could feast on any aromas so potent. Do you really hold so much righteousness, boy?”

  I steeled my spine and planted my feet. “Like I said, I will kill my enemy either way, even without your fucking gold.”

  The atmosphere changed again, and instead of anger and bitterness, a feeling of melancholy wrapped around me like a wet blanket and reminded me of winters without any heat.

  “Tell me,” the ghost king said as he drifted away from me with his decayed hands clasped behind his back. “If I lift the curse on your wife and let you walk away with my descendants’ treasures, what will you give me in return?”

  “I don’t have anything of value, Your Majesty, except…” I paused when I placed my hand over the small lump I always carried around in my pocket.

  The herald core.

  “Ah,” the king of the West Ridge sighed with his richly clad back still toward me, and he lifted his crowned head. “I smelled the spike of conviction just now. It has a very appetizing aroma, like the burnt ends of a roast. I could feast on that ambrosial smell for many eons.”

  “But if I give you the core of the herald demon, then I won’t be able to make my weapon more powerful,” I sighed as I pulled the ruby gemstone out of my pocket.

  “If you are so galvanized in your charge, then you will kill your foe either way, like you said, of this I am sure,” the sad king said as he extended his hand out toward one of the silent marble tombs. “I, too, once spilled blood for a great love, and none of the heavens above nor the hells below could stop me from my holy cause. What say you? Is she worth it?”

  “She is worth one hundred of my lives,” I said and placed the herald core next to the cursed coin on top of the tomb. I didn’t even bat an eye because I knew what he said was true. Nothing would keep me from keeping Zoie safe, and I would find a way to kill Ren no matter what happened.

  The ghost king drifted toward the two offerings and inhaled through his missing nose. Then he sighed and closed his weary clouded eyes.

  “Leave me now and return to your beloved,” the sad ghost king said. “I have lifted the curse on her life, and may the gold you acquired from my descendants bless your worthy cause.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” I gave a respectful bow and then ran to the door.

  “There are creatures chasing you, are there not?” the king asked just before I slipped out of the crypt.

  “Yes,” I confirmed with a nod of my head.

  “They will overwhelm you on the ground, especially with your wife in her weakened state,” he explained. “They detest water, so find the underground waterway this once noble city used to traverse under cover of darkness. It leads to the river juncture at the base of the mountain and will take you there quickly.”

  “Where can I find the waterway?” I asked.

  “Get you to the top of the falls and look for an old stone well that looks to be boarded up,” he said and vanished the coin and the red herald core with a wave of his gnarled hand. “Uncover it, and you will find a passage to the underground waterway.”

  “Thanks again,” I said and slipped through the crack in the hidden door without a second look back.

  My heart kicked inside my chest, and I bolted to where my rappel ropes were waiting for me.

  It was times like this where I was proud of my upper body strength, because I made short work of climbing up the rope like it was a simple P.E. exercise instead of the sixty-foot climb without a net.

  “Zoie!” I called out as I heaved myself over the edge just as it started to rain. Then I scrambled to my feet and ran around the shrubs and boulders to the small clearing where I left her.

  Zoie was still laying on her back under the tarp I stretched out to keep her dry, but where before she appeared too still and corpse-like, now she looked like she was just sleeping with one arm thrown above her head in that careless way she had when she was dreaming soundly.

  I dropped to my knees beside her, and I watched with relief as the cursed-green of her branching veins faded back into the natural color of her skin. Then the ashen gray of her complexion was replaced with a healthier flush, and her eyes began to shift behind her pale eyelids.

  “Krr,” Roofus burred and then hopped off her chest so he could take his place next to her head.

  “Thanks for watching over her, little buddy,” I said to the gold-seeker and scratched his dusty neck ruff.

  “Mm?” the sleeping beauty sighed at the sound of my voice. She wrinkled her brow as the light rain continued to fall on us even though the late-afternoon sun was still trying to peek through the violent storm clouds, and the drops got stuck in her lustrous ebony hair like diamonds that glittered in the near twilight.

  As if she was fragile porcelain, I rested the back of my knuckles against her cool cheek and then brushed the pad of my thumb across her rosy lips.

  “Alex?” she murmured, and I felt my heart cramp inside my chest when her beloved ocean blue eyes opened for me once more.

  “Zoie,” I said, and my breath shuddered out of me.

  “I had a dream I was lost in the darkness, but then you were there, and you pulled me into the light,” she said with a smile like a blooming rose.

  “You’re back,” I sighed, and I lowered my head as if the sight of her was too brilliant, like staring too long at the sun.


  She lifted my chin and frowned slightly as she looked into my eyes. She then brushed my cheek, and her fingers came away damp.

  “It’s okay, Alex,” she whispered.

  “It almost wasn’t,” I rasped out and dried my other cheek with my shoulder because my hands were too busy clinging on to her as if she would vanish the second I looked away. “You almost died, and I never told you…”

  Just then, Zoie surged up, threw her arms around my neck, and claimed my mouth with hers in a passionate kiss.

  I enveloped her in my arms and dank deeply from her sweet honey-wine kisses, and the comfort of her scent, breath, and body helped soothe the sick feeling inside my gut at how close I came to losing all this.

  Losing her.

  When we broke for air, I held her gorgeous alive face between my shaking palms and tried to show her my soul just from my gaze alone.

  “I love you, Zoie,” I said and brought our foreheads together.

  “I love you, too, my husband,” she whispered and nuzzled our faces closer.

  A savage wolf cry brought us back to the present, and Roofus clicked his beak in warning.

  “You’re right, Roo,” I said and had him jump up onto my forearm so he could situate himself on my shoulder. Then I turned to Zoie and began rolling up the tarp so I could put it back inside our remaining travel pack, and when it was stored, I swung the pack over my back. “We are still being hunted. Time to Homer Simpson backwards through the bush outta here.”

  “You say very strange things, my husband.” Zoie stood up with my help, but when she went to take a step her knees buckled, and I had to catch her before she could fall to the ground.

  “Alex, I can’t run,” she said with a grimace as her face drained of what little color she’d managed to gain.

  It was this that reminded me we weren’t out of the woods just yet.

  “It’s okay, we hopefully won’t need to,” I said as I scooped her up bridal style and rushed into the small copse of trees.

  I hoped my instincts were right about where an abandoned well might be located, because at this point I was just winging it.

  “Kaw!” Roofus said and then pecked my head.

  “Ow, what?” I grumbled and turned to the pest on my shoulder.

  He flapped his good wing and then gestured through the trees to my left with one of his fuzzy moth-paws.

  “Alex, look,” Zoie said and pointed to a washed-out path I would have missed completely if not for the both of them.

  I stepped carefully over fallen logs with my bride held in my arms and made sure to place my feet squarely so we wouldn’t crash to the muddy ground.

  The well was hidden by overgrowth and even half of a tree branch that looked like it had been struck by lightning. I looked up as thunder rumbled overhead, and I kept a wary eye out as I settled Zoie on the ground with Roofus in her lap. The rain was falling harder now, and I kicked it up into high gear as I tore away the fallen branches to reveal the heavy stone cover. Then I pushed the stone aside just enough so the three of us would be able to slip down into the secret passage.

  When I returned to Zoie, I saw she’d assembled our remaining torch and finished lighting it with a strike of a flint.

  “The monsters won’t chase us down there,” I said as I picked Zoie back up and walked over to the well so I could settle her on the stone edge.

  “How do you know about this?” she asked, and she shone her torch light down the well’s throat to reveal a spiraling staircase.

  “I heard it on good authority that there is a whole waterway system the people of the ancient city used so they could travel safely,” I said as I hopped in and helped her to lean against the wall real quick while I covered the well again.

  “Whose authority?” she asked when I gathered her back up into my arms.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said as she tucked her head against my neck. I needed to tell her about how I traded the only demon core I had so the ghost king would lift his curse, but all that could wait.

  After walking down seemingly endless stairs, the corridor finally opened up to reveal a massive central chamber, and there were several crumbling docks where boats used to be tied up in order to traverse the dark tubular passages.

  “Hopefully, there’s one boat left,” I said as we walked toward the pier closest to us.

  “There is,” Zoie said as she peered through the dim chamber.

  Despite how decayed the rest of the harbor looked, with its rotting wood and fungal overgrowth, the dinghy Zoie was talking about floated proud and pristine as if it were only built yesterday.

  “Huh, would you look at that,” I said and helped her get into the small row boat before I could climb into it after her.

  “Wait, is this the second pack?” she asked as she suddenly and inexplicably held up the pack I left back on the battlement. “I thought it was lost.”

  “Um, I guess it’s… back.” I shrugged and rubbed the back of my neck.

  The ghost king really did make good on his barter.

  I even wondered if the king’s magic was somehow guiding our small water craft because I barely had to push off before the boat began traveling down the dark stream by itself.

  “You will have to tell me what happened while I was unconscious,” Zoie said as she put the torch into the hole on the boat’s bow designed for a lantern to hang.

  “As soon as we get home,” I said and helped us both get settled at the bottom so Zoie would be more comfortable. “But try to get some rest for now. I’ll wake you up when we get down from the mountain.

  Unlike the break-neck way we ascended the jagged peaks, coming down from them was a lot less hectic. The stream our little dinghy was automatically traveling down wound to and fro downhill like some extended lazy river, and for the first hour we floated along, I didn’t really think about much.

  My brain felt like pulled taffy, stretched thin and wrung out, and I suspected some of it may have been from all the bullshit craziness I just went through. The only thing I really had energy for was holding Zoie as we were rocked by the boat.

  Every so often, I would wrap my fingers around her wrist so I could feel her pulse. I just felt better when I confirmed to myself how strong it was even though she was still terribly pale and slept the sleep of the dead.

  It was finally Roofus that lifted that numb paralyzing shroud off me when he pecked my elbow with his sharp beak.

  “Ow!” I hissed and glowered at him. “What?”

  “Ki-ki?” Roofus said and flattened his feathery antennae in remorse.

  “I’m sorry, boy,” I sighed and rubbed my gritty eyes. “What’s wrong, Roo?”

  The little gold-seeker moth clicked a few times and then opened his black beak with a small whimper.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked him.

  “Kaw!” he replied and then wiggled his tail feathers.

  I reached into the pack and saw a lot of the stuff that was dumped into the water was ruined. It was a shame most of what I considered feeding the crow-moth was in Zoie’s pack, and not the second one that magically ended up aboard the mysterious watercraft.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have anyth-- oh, wait,” I said as I pulled out a flattened husk of woot fruit I was going to save specifically for the little bird-bug creature. Then I tossed it on the wooden floor of the boat and watched as Roofus pecked at it.

  When he managed to stand on it and rip a little of the leathery husk away so he could swallow it, he paused and ruffled his neck feathers at me.

  “You’re welcome.” I smirked and then grimaced as I watched him eat. The little dude really needed a lesson in table manners because it was not a pretty sight.

  As he ate, I decided to consolidate what I could from the soaked pack all into one for something to pass the time and keep my mind occupied. But that task didn’t take too long, and before I knew it, I was back to listening to the water as it lapped against the boat and echoed off the rounded tunnel walls.


  Half-way through the second or third hour, the gentle rocking of the boat started to make me drowsy. Zoie’s warm comforting weight as she slept with her head in my lap was not helping keep me alert in the dark waterway tunnels, and even Roofus had curled up with her and added his warm weight to the cuddle pile. The aches and pains of the day were finally being soothed as my adrenaline finally crashed, and my eyelids fluttered with exhaustion.

  The loss of the demon core was a harsh one I would need to talk with Zoie about. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be pleased at the trade, but I would do it again every time if the matter was her life or death.

  Still, there had to be another way to arm myself against Ren. The ghost king seemed to be sure of it, and even though he was some undead Witch King of an ancient unearthly civilization, I felt like we had some sort of understanding when he asked me about my motivations.

  I tipped my head back against the lip of the boat and let my eyelids drift shut as I continued to think about the coming tasks and the predicament I landed myself in.

  Somehow, I needed to try to stop Ren from his assassination plot against Lord Mec.

  The royal races were set to start in four days… closer to three now if my internal clock was accurate. I was still figuring out time on this world, but so far everything seemed like it was a standard twenty-four-hour day give or take a couple hours. It could also be my perception, but some days felt like minutes, and some felt like months. Even today seemed like a week.

  It wasn’t surprising when I finally lost the battle of sleep and surrendered myself to the rocking motion of the stream.

  There were bright flashes of light in my vision when I dreamed. I couldn’t really remember the specifics, but I felt uneasy like I was running out of time. Every time I tried to travel down a path in front of me, I ended up getting turned around and lost through the white mist all around me. The only other thing that remained with me in the endless bright void was the steady ticking of a clock…

  Tick, tick, tick.

  I woke up with a start as someone tapped me on the metal clasp of my cloak with the tip of a sharp dagger.