There must be something she’ll let me slaughter. Something!
He continued to cruise the sky, cutting through the clouds, scattering herds—watching the underlings have all the fun mutilating and terrorizing. Black wings humming, he circled a horrible scene.
Leagues east of Dwarven Hole, the underlings, ten in all, had a handful of Royal soldiers hemmed in behind the rocks. They were led by an underling mage, dark robed and floating above the ground. Horrifying but also fond memories of Oran, Catten, and Verbard stirred. He cocked his horned head.
Do I miss them?
Badoon warriors hacked a man to pieces and flung them over the rocks, where the three other men huddled together. One of them was holding in his guts and spitting blood.
Haggard, bloody, and bearded, one of the soldiers stepped out from behind the rocks to make his final stand. Hefting a bastard sword and limping, he came forward.
Eep’s large eye widened.
I at least need a snack while I watch this.
The underling mage floated high and out of sword reach. His cobalt eyes flared with color, and ribbons of lightning coiled along his wrists and lashed out toward the soldier.
Zaa-Booom!
Flesh and armor sizzled and exploded, leaving only the soldier’s boots intact. The rest of him was scattered hunks of flesh.
Eep laughed and started clapping.
What are you doing? Trinos interrupted his mirth.
Eh … nothing, Mistress. Moving on now. Nothing to see here.
Do you want to kill?
Yes! Yes! He nodded. His eye locked on the two human soldiers. Please turn me loose!
You may kill, Eep …
Salivating, he started his descent.
…but not the men. You must kill the underlings.
Eep pulled up.
What are you waiting for, imp?
For all of his existence, Eep had served the underlings. They were the ones who had created the spell that summoned him. Commanded him. Tormented him. He recalled all the horrible things they had done to him. Catten and Verbard had chopped him to bits and fed him to dogs once. No, twice! He eyed the underling mage hovering a hundred feet below him.
Really? he said to Trinos.
With full hostility.
Contempt filled him. Blink. He appeared behind the mage and tapped it on the shoulder.
The underling jerked around. Its blue eyes widened.
Rip!
Eep’s clawed fingertips tore out the underling’s throat. Feels good!
The underling’s body drifted to the ground among the ranks of its brethren. The Badoon underlings were quick to react. Small crossbows loosed.
Clatch-zip! Clatch-zip! Clatch-zip!
Darts peppered the air.
Too-wah! Too-wah! Too-wah!
Eep plucked the harmless bolts and needles from his eye and skin. Then he grinned.
Blink.
He tore out one underling’s back and disemboweled another.
Howling, the underlings converged on the knotted hulk of muscles. Steel skipped off his chest. Striking like snakes, they jabbed into his hide.
Blink.
Eep reappeared on one underling’s head and pushed in his eyes.
A sword came down at his horns with pinpoint precision.
Blink.
The blade chopped deep into an underling’s head, splitting it like a melon.
Eep latched onto the underling that swung the sword and pushed his claws into its neck. Blood seeped from the wounds. Eep’s tongue licked out. “Yes!” he hissed in triumph.
His wings buzzed, propelling him into a Badoon’s belly, claws first.
The underling screeched and jabbed a knife at Eep’s neck.
Eep tore out the underling’s innards. Yes!
An underling grabbed Eep’s feet. Another walloped him upside the head with a mallet. Suddenly, the Badoon, no longer surprised, drove him into the ground and began to filet him.
Bite!
Slash!
Blood soaked Eep’s eye. The knot of angry fighters was tightening, cutting him from head to toe.
Eep screamed.
Blink.
He appeared above them as red death, blood soaked and chest heaving. He shook, showering the searching underlings below with blood, both his and theirs. There were only four left.
Battered and bloodied, the underlings dug their feet into the dirt.
Eep’s mouthful of razor-sharp teeth snapped open and shut. “Time to feast!” He dove.
The underlings hunkered into a stance, swords and javelins ready.
Blink.
He landed on the ground behind the four of them and slashed through the tendons behind their knees.
Two collapsed. Two attacked.
Blink.
Eep reappeared behind one underling, hooked his claws under its armpits, and flew straight up in the air. One hundred feet. Two hundred feet.
“Fly underling, fly!” He let go.
With a sickening thud, the falling underling smashed on top of the two with their knees cut out.
Eep dusted off his bloody claws and locked his eyes on the last underling. “What is this?”
The Royal soldiers charged from behind the rock, attacking the last standing underling.
The underling turned to greet his aggressors with two swords bared.
“Nooo!” Eep screamed.
The larger warrior’s sword arced downward, chopping through the steel of the underling’s blades and sinking his own blade deep into its skull.
Blink.
Eep landed on the soldier’s back and started to tear his throat out.
Don’t you dare, imp! Leave that man be!
He let the man go, shook the blood off, and buzzed away.
No more games, imp. Find me Scorch, and I’ll feed you more underlings.
CHAPTER 24
“We can’t just drift into the Underland with you looking as you do,” Master Sidebor said.
“I don’t see why not,” Scorch said. “I think I can handle any danger.”
Sidebor’s face tightened. As much as he anticipated his return to his homeland, he had no desire to be slaughtered the very moment he arrived.
“This requires stealth. Deception.”
“Ah,” Scorch said. He capped the pickle jar. “So you prefer I assume the form of an underling? Maybe I could be one of those horrible … oh, what do you call them?”
“Urchlings.”
“Yes, I think that is what you would like to see me be.”
Sidebor had thought about it. He needed to guard his thoughts better. “Underlings know one another, but they don’t pay such close attention to urchlings or the like.”
“How about you be the urchling, and I’ll be you?” Scorch’s body shifted, and his robes darkened in color. “How is this?”
Sidebor faced a mirror image of himself. “Flattering,” he sneered, “but we don’t need them to recognize either one of us, now do we?”
“Of course not,” Scorch said, “but I don’t think we need to worry about that right now.”
Ahead, the Current dropped off into the sound of a crashing waterfall. The craft glided over the water, coming to a stop at a small dock.
Sidebor tied it off and followed Scorch down the pathway. His fingers tingled as he stepped onto the overlook.
A vast, dark city sat below, carved from stone and fused by metal. Lights twinkled with a soft glow as far as the eye could see. He was home for the first time in centuries.
“How much did you miss it, now that you see it?” Scorch said.
Sidebor’s heart pounded. There weren’t many things that moved him, but this did. “I have no word for it.”
Scorch slapped him on the back. “I can tell.”
The Underland was glorious. The mammoth cave spanned miles. The castle and buildings rivaled anything above ground. Towers with spires hundreds of feet tall. Roofs of silver and gold. Caves overlooked the city with hundreds of o
penings and a vast network within. The Current turned into a lake that the city sat on. Underlings paddled small craft through the water. Others floated.
Sidebor could hear music over the roar of the falls. “Hmmm …”
“Something amiss?” Scorch said.
“There isn’t as much activity as I’d expect. The streets seem … barren?”
“Perhaps you should lead the way?”
Sidebor summoned his power, stretching his limbs and converting his eyes from deep red to that of a burning orange sapphire. The hair on his head and brows was already thicker than it had once been, thanks to the new body Scorch had provided.
“Nice touch,” Scorch said. His ruby eyes turned to sapphire blue. “I like blue. Lead the way.”
Stone staircases wound downward, stopping at a large platform suspended in the air. Wooden walkways with arched bridges went off in several directions. Sidebor felt a tad queasy. There had been changes. Many structures he remembered were gone. New ones, huge and grotesque, replaced them. All of it bore the mark of Master Sinway.
Sidebor’s claws dug into the rail where he stood.
“You have family still?” Scorch said.
“I’m certain they are all dead. Come.”
Sidebor could have floated but chose to walk. The less attention they drew the better. So far as he knew, Master Sinway didn’t know he was back and had no reason to believe he would be. His adversary had no idea that Scorch had met with him, either. Still, certainly Sinway had some kind of warning in place.
“No one is expecting us,” Scorch said.
Sidebor glared at him. The man—or whatever he was—had too much power. But every power has a weakness.
They made it down to the main streets of the city, where underlings in commoners’ clothing prowled, decorative and tasteful. There were merchants, storefronts, and the aroma of comfort foods he’d gone long without. He heard Scorch’s stomach groan.
“Underling cuisine?” Scorch perched a brow. “How interesting.”
It drew some stares from passersby.
“Speak Underling,” Sidebor whispered in his own tongue. “I suppose you can do that?”
“Certainly,” Scorch said back in Underling.
“I suppose you want to dine.”
Scorch took a seat at a table in front of a dreary café.
A small female underling came out and greeted them. Her hair was white, eyes pale violet, skin dark grey, and very little covered her nubile form.
Scorch eyed her with interest while Sidebor ordered. Scorch’s eyes followed her when she departed. “That was delightful,” Scorch said. “Enchanting and pure evil. Hah.”
“She’s a wretch riddled with imperfections. Why else would she work here?” Sidebor scanned the area. The underlight kept the cave linings illuminated, but there were still exquisite lanterns posted, and lights coming from all sorts of windows. The Underland was a place with its own hideous beauty. Cold. Uninviting. Underlings talked and bartered, but no money was exchanged. Just agreements of sorts. His tense muscles began to ease.
The underling woman returned with a bottle of port and a plateful of steaming food. She bared a jagged tooth behind her crooked smile and walked away.
Scorch inhaled the aroma. Dug his fork into the food.
Sidebor filled their goblets.
“Mmmm…” Scorch commented, “sweet, sour, and spicy all mixed into something that is far from delicious, yet satisfying and palatable. How would one describe? Gorlicious.”
Sidebor rolled his eyes.
As they ate, Scorch asked question after question. Sidebor explained the underling ways, everything from commerce to mating. Scorch devoured it all.
“I can’t believe what he has done,” Sidebor commented later.
“And that would be?” Scorch said, tapping his chest and letting out a gentle burp.
“The Underland is practically abandoned. Our forces are … gone.”
“It’s not likely the Underland will ever be invaded.” Scorch finished off his port and saluted. “A gutsy move!”
More stares came their way from other underling patrons that sat nearby.
“Perhaps we should go, before you prattle off any more gibberish.”
“Certainly,” Scorch said. “Let me pay for the meal, and then you can take me on a tour.” His hand slid off the table.
Sidebor snatched it. “We don’t pay for such things. It’s all taken care of.”
“Not even a tip?”
“A what?”
“Never mind,” Scorch said, scooting his chair back, making an awful noise. He bumped into underlings seated at another table, jostling their drinks. “Apologies.”
What is this fool doing?
“Did you say something?” Scorch said, teetering away. His feet left the ground, and he began walking on air.
Muttering an underling curse, Sidebor grabbed the hem of Scorch’s robes and pulled him back to the ground. “Get your senses back, Scorch,” he hissed in his ear. “You’re making a scene.”
“Certainly, Sidebor,” he said.
“Keep your voice down. It’s likely a crime to mention me.” Sidebor shoved Scorch along, avoiding all the probing stares, and stopped just inside an alley. “This loose behavior ends now, Scorch,” he said, seething.
Blue eyes flashing, Scorch said, “You dare threaten me?”
“You threaten both of us,” Sidebor said. “As powerful as you may be, you don’t want to engage a host of underling magi. It would be unlikely you’d crawl out of these caves alive. There’s hundreds of them down here.”
“Hundreds?”
“Well versed. Hardly pawns.” His sharp nails dug into Scorch’s arm. “I demand your discretion.”
Scorch glared into his eyes, shoved him out of the way, and sauntered into the streets filled with prying gemstone eyes. Hic! “Come along, Sside, hic … I mean, comrade. I’m so ready to absorb this fine city.”
Sidebor waited in the alley, fingers twitching and mumbling to himself. “He’s crazy.” He caught up with him. “You’re going to get me killed.”
Hic! “Oh, why would I do that?”
CHAPTER 25
Chop!
Hack!
Glitch!
Venir cut down two urchlings and the last cave dog. He’d been cramped inside a tunnel, barricading himself behind a pile of the dead. Hours earlier, he had mown a path through them, huddled into the tunnel, and made his defense. Now a heap of mangled bodies, gouged faces, and twitching limbs kept his pursuers at bay.
He hefted Brool up one more time and brought it down on an underling’s neck.
Slice!
The head dropped into the knee-deep water.
Venir gulped for air and leaned his broad back against the wall. His iron-thewed limbs ached and burned. Gashes seeped blood from him everywhere.
Kill them all! Helm urged yet again.
Ignoring the call, Venir turned and ran. The time when Helm controlled his every movement was gone. He’d faced fire, torture, and death countless times. He had become the ultimate survivor.
No metal bucket will tell me what to do.
He sloshed through the water and popped out of the tunnel. Boots back on a sandy shore, he jogged through the darkness. He’d given the underlings something to think about. Their pursuit was muted by his impossible efforts. The farther he ran from them, the more the simmering helmet on his head cooled. His formerly battle-heated body became heavy, his breathing ragged. He forged ahead, stopping on the planks of a dock he had found two days earlier. There was a staircase leading to the city above. He swallowed and looked back. The tunnels were silent, the air cool.
Time for some new scenery.
With a groan, he slid his shield off his back and snatched his backpack. He pulled out the stitched-up leather sack and opened up the neck. The shield went in first, followed by Brool. He unstrapped Helm’s chinstrap and scanned the dark water and tunnels through him one last time before he pulled hi
m off and dropped him in, spike first.
Venir’s energy sapped.
With effort, he stuffed the limp sack back into his pack, shouldered it, and limped up the stairs. His boots squished on the planks. He reached the top, pushed open the door, and was hit by a blast of fresh air. He staggered into the alley and collapsed into some crates and garbage, laughing.
It was night, but it might as well have been day after being surrounded in blackness for ten days. He forced himself up and wandered down the alley, uncertain where he was. The streets were lifeless, quiet. All the shutters were closed. Doors were sealed.
But the City of Three always has night festivities.
Horse hooves caught his ears, and the rustling of armor. Venir slipped into the shadows between two storefronts. The City Watch, some on horseback and others on foot, patrolled the streets with lanterns. Venir saw a weary look in their eyes.
A pair of men were cuffed and walking with a woozy gait. One stumbled and fell to his knees and started giggling.
“Get up!” a watchman said. “Get up now!”
“I’m trying.”
A club came down.
Whack!
“Get up, or we’ll leave you out here with the underlings.”
“No!” the man said. “No!” He forced himself up to his feet with the help of his friend. “Sorry.”
Whack!
The watchman smote him on the back.
“Ow!”
“Quit howling and come along.”
They moved on.
Venir could feel the heaviness in the air. The nervousness of their voices.
***
Kam dabbed a wet rag on Fogle’s brow. The pair sat underneath the balcony, out of sight.
“Are you well?” she said, smiling.
“I’m fine,” he said, leaning closer. “Just fine.”
The Magi Roost was a mess. Jaen’s powers had set portions of the bar on fire. Fogle’s magic and buckets of water from the trough outside had extinguished it. Now, the fine tavern was once again marred in smoke, grime, and blood.
He stared at the corpses. Jaen and a dozen soldiers were laid out alongside one another. Jaen’s figure stirred him. He’d never seen such evil from a woman before.
The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces Page 38