Angst Box Set 1

by David Pedersen

  Niihlu’s face contorted as he gave in to fury. He roared in anger as he launched at the Fulk’han, and his hand shot toward the gray man’s throat. Guldrich leaped aside gracefully as Niihlu’s clutched the throat of an old man against the wall, freezing it and killing him instantly.

  Jarle glared at the king, who lifted his hand as if considering how he could end the fight. Rasaol met his gaze, and Jarle shook his head no. The circle could not be broken, and the fight would not be stopped; that was the law. But the Fulk’han was right. How could he know so much? Had he been awake during their conversation? Had others talked while they were away?

  “Your indecision is why you fail!” Guldrich shouted, staring at Rasaol, who lowered his hand. “Are you hunters or conquerors? Peaceful nature-lovers, or war-thirsty empire builders? You must choose—the old way, or the new!”

  Guldrich circled the fireplace, giving himself more time to taunt. His three clawed toes clicked noisily between the irregular beating of spears and stomping of feet. Niihlu was shaking with rage, and ice fell from his arms like a waterfall, splattering those nearby as he shuffled around to follow.

  “Embrace the old ways, Niihlu,” Guldrich growled. “You don’t deserve what you’ve been given.”

  “You will die like your Takarn, coward,” Niihlu threatened.

  Guldrich roared, leaping through the grate, his claws breaking with angry snaps as he tore through Niihlu’s forehead. Niihlu swung wildly, smashing the gray man’s ribs and throwing him to the floor. Guldrich’s bone armor cracked, his rib casing splayed as he grunted. He landed on a shoulder, which popped loudly. He shakily pushed himself up into a pensive crouch.

  Water flowed like blood over Niihlu’s forehead, crystalizing and blinding the young man. He clawed helplessly at the mess of ice forming over his eyes, only creating a larger mask. Crying out in frustration, he swung wildly at the air. The heartbeat in Owenqua became a murmur. An unsteady beat. An arrhythmia that threatened to burst as the onlookers’ eyes questioned everything unfolding before them.

  “You are all blind to your future. So stuck in ways that keep you from saving yourself. You make for easy pickings.” Guldrich leaped forward, his claws pointed at Niihlu’s throat. “You will die, but I will not!”

  Niihlu lowered his hands. Fighting blind, he reached out and grabbed Guldrich’s forearm. From elbow to finger, the Fulk’han’s arm froze solid. Niihlu smashed his palm into his opponent’s chest. Guldrich screamed in pain as his forearm snapped free, and he flew through the doors of Owenqua, which tore open like paper, leaving a trail of splinters and twisted metal in the snow.

  “It’s over,” Rasaol announced, his shoulders dropped and his voice filled with relief. He strode to the door.

  Jarle followed Rasaol with hasty steps. He spared a look back to see if Niihlu was following for the kill. The champion was still fighting the ice covering his eyes while roughly shaking off helping hands. There were more questions than victory, and more than ever, Jarle wanted to tell calming stories and remind the attending Nordruaut why they should not choose this path.

  “No,” Rasaol shouted.

  Jarle’s attention tore away from the crowd as he walked into the freezing cold Nordruaut morning. His king stood barefoot and almost naked in the knee-high snow, gawking at the imprint left by Guldrich’s body. It trailed off into the early morning darkness, a shuffling through the snow that was already too far away to be heard.

  “He was right,” Jarle said sadly.

  “That he wouldn’t die?” Rasaol snapped.

  “No,” Jarle replied solemnly. “He was right about all of it.”

  31

  “She’s here!” Angst called out. “Water!”

  “What?” Jarblech barked from the doorway. “What are you talking about, wielder? Who?”

  “The lady of the sea,” Victoria shouted.

  The ship stopped. In spite of the storm and the wind and the enormous waves, the ship held still as if stuck on a reef. The waves settled, no longer pushed or pulled by winds. Between intervals of ear-shaking thunder came the sound of splashing. It wasn’t a wave striking the shoreline, or a bucket being emptied, it was as if a moon had landed in the ocean. A tidal wave grew from the water, rising hundreds of feet into the night sky, once again taking the shape of a woman. She was every drowning nightmare, every storm he’d wanted to hide from as a child, and as stunningly beautiful as any great force of nature.

  “Angst!” the watery creature roared, her voice filled with spite.

  Rain splattered the deck, the intensity increasing with every breath.

  “I guess I’m not the only one,” Jarblech muttered in disbelief.

  “Nope,” he choked, pulling free from Tori’s grip on his shoulders.

  “Be careful,” she said.

  They all stopped, turning to her in disbelief. She shrugged, her face wrought with worry.

  “Sure.” Angst tried winking through the shower before turning back to face Water with his foci. He muttered to Dulgirgraut from the corner of his mouth, “Now would be a good time to tell me what you know.” He opened his mind, his heart, his everything to feel...nothing. Power, raw power flowed from the sword, and his eyes glowed so brightly he could see their red reflection in the pouring rain, but the giant sword did not divulge a single drip of knowledge. “You suck,” he said admonishingly.

  “I’ve waited too long for this,” Water roared. “You thoughtlessly killed mine. Now I kill you and yours!”

  “What?” Angst asked.

  “You bear the responsibility!” She raised two fists over the ship. “And everyone you care about will pay the price!”

  “But that doesn’t mean everyone here should die,” he pleaded.

  “Yes,” she said, spreading her fingers wide. “Yes, it does.”

  Tamara cried out as she rose into the air. Tori held on until Angst pulled her back so she wouldn’t be taken as well. He looked for the tentacle or gargoyle that held Tamara aloft, but found none.

  “Please, Angst,” Victoria cried, her face already filled with grief. “Don’t let it happen.”

  Tamara hovered there, writhing and fighting as her arms were forced outward and her fingers spread. Her panicked eyes sought Angst’s. “Help me. It hurts!”

  “What do I do?” he begged Dulgirgraut. The sword didn’t reply. “Tarness, throw me at her!” Angst commanded.

  “It’s too late,” Victoria said, looking away.

  What he saw made his chin quiver. Water drained from Tamara’s hands and feet. Her face and torso deflated and her skin tightened to her skeleton. She cried out in pain, begging to be saved. Angst stood ready to do something, anything, but Tori was right. The screams stopped and the tattered remains of their friend’s clothes dropped into the ocean. Tori choked back tears, and a coldness overtook Angst. The wind picked up, and gusts of water flowed through his thinning hair. Rain fell in sheets, and the ocean poured over the sides to flush them out. His joints ached from cold as he raised Dulgirgraut.

  She reared back, laughing at his vain attempt. “And you think that trifle can destroy me?”

  “You wouldn’t be the first,” he said, setting a foot back to brace himself.

  Her face was wild with anger.

  “Wrong answer,” Hector said.

  “It’s not over.” Tori wrapped her arms around Angst’s chest.

  Water threw the ocean at them, a constant hammering that flayed and burned.

  With all his might, he wielded air, erecting a shield against the attack. “It won’t last long,” Angst gasped. “Fireball. All of us.”

  “What do you mean, all of us?” Tarness asked in despair.

  “I think he meant to say some of us,” Hector agreed.

  “Whoever can,” Angst pleaded. “Now!”

  It wasn’t the planet or star that Fire had thrown at them, but it was large enough to light the sky and dry the deck. A ball of fire the size of the castle at Unsel tore into Water. She screamed, her body his
sing as it lost cohesion to the mass of flames. The storms stopped, the monsters stopped, even the tentacles were gone.

  “Was that it?” Tarness asked. “Did we do it?”

  They all looked to Tori for confirmation. Her face was contorted in fear. She shook her head, her arms still wrapped around Angst.

  Water rose from the ocean in all her fury. Sheets of rain showered them as waves threatened to roll the ship, forcing Angst to concentrate on keeping her steady. The monsters were still gone, but they weren’t needed. There was such a deluge of water, it was almost impossible to breathe. Angst threw another fireball at the creature, and another, a non-stop barrage of flames that tore through her. She wasn’t happy, and replied with drowning water that became colder with every passing second.

  “She is trying to freeze us,” Dallow called out.

  Angst reached deep into the sea, deep into the ground beneath, and pulled up everything he could. Water moved back as he forced dirt and steel and sand at the element. It wasn’t an organized attack from an experienced wielder, but the desperate attempt of a man trying to save his friends, and it felt like throwing sand in a bully’s eyes. Water swiped desperately at his attack until she stopped moving, solidifying to ice. Thin sandy towers reached out of the ocean like long fingers, strands of sludge and stone that deflected off her hardened body.

  Exhaustion overtook Angst, and the fingers of earth retreated into the sea. Her icy figure once again became fluid, and she grew in fury, even more enormous than before. Water reveled in his defeat, rearing back for a laugh that sounded like thundering waterfalls.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Shut it,” Victoria snapped and pointed upward. “It’s not over. Look.”

  The clouds had formed eyes and a nose, dark shadows in the storm that could be seen with every lightning strike. Below the eyes, a cloudy mouth opened to scream out wind. A body took shape beneath the clouds. Shoulders extended to arms and hands, which reached out with fingers like tornadoes. Even before Angst could brace for the end, a man-shaped tornado the size of Water stepped between her and the ship. Rushing air from the funnel ripped into Water, and the rain suddenly stopped as Air stripped away layers and layers of storm. Lightning thrashed at her from the sky above. Water threw her head back, her mouth open wide in a scream until she finally dove to ocean safety. A tornado rushed toward them. Angst sought knowledge from Dulgirgraut, desperate to know how to defend against Water and Air, but the sword remained silent. The tornado slowed as it met their ship.

  “We can’t do this alone, Angst. It will take two,” the wind whispered in his ear, and all was still.

  Without warning, the sun appeared—a beautiful beacon of hope and light that made everyone hide behind arms and squinting eyelids. The nightmare was over as quickly as it had begun. The captain touched every shoulder, looked every member of the crew in the eye, and said their names aloud. Angst stayed nearby, keeping a watchful eye on the horizon for retribution. Dulgirgraut hovered over the bow once more, glowing gently as if nothing had happened.

  “Four women are missing, including Tamara,” Jarblech said, her voice unsure and her face haggard.

  “Tamara’s dead.” Angst couldn’t stop shaking. “The Lady of the Sea took her, and...” He bowed his head.

  “It happens.” Jarblech’s voice caught as she placed a hand on Angst’s shoulder. “The ocean is a cruel mistress.”

  “I tried,” he said. “We all did.”

  “I know,” Jarblech said, patting him. He was surprised that she wasn’t angry, or throwing him overboard. “Tamara was a fine pilot, and a friend. We will celebrate her life with a feast as soon as we find the others. Can your friends help?”

  “We’ll do our best,” Hector said. “Dallow, can you check the surrounding area from above?”

  “Already on it,” the tall man said, his eyes glowing brightly behind the blue kerchief.

  “Everyone else take a spot and see what you can find,” Hector commanded.

  “I’m searching below deck to make sure they aren’t still hiding.” Jarblech covered her face with a hand and left them.

  Angst hurried portside toward the front of the ship. His heart hurt to beat as though wrapped in a thick layer of guilt. Had he not dragged these people out here, Tamara wouldn’t have died. All he could hope for now was to find the others. He reached out to feel for the mineral in bones, but the sea was alive with creatures of all sizes and it was too hard to distinguish. The brightness of the sun and the choppiness of the ocean made it hard to see. The waves created shadows, and his eyes played tricks on him. Was that something bobbing far out or just the water? He squinted, holding his breath and leaning forward. The waves rocked and the sun hid behind a cloud long enough to make out a hand reaching up.

  “Overboard!” he shouted, kicking off his shoes.

  She was easily a hundred and fifty yards or more away, and waving frantically at Angst.

  “A woman,” Angst shouted over his shoulder. “Overboard!” He placed one foot on the railing. “I won’t lose another one!”

  His friends came running to him as he took a deep breath and launched into the air.

  “Angst, no,” Victoria said. “That’s her, that’s—”

  32

  “Found ‘em!” Jarblech dragged a stocky woman up on deck by her ear, and two women followed, looking sheepish as they held hands. The captain’s hair was a lopsided mass of gray and black, matted down on one side and reaching for freedom on the other. “This one was getting drunk. These two, well, they thought everyone was going to die.”

  “Angst,” Victoria called, her hand cupped around her mouth. She was pale and leaned over, wincing.

  “What’d he do now?” Jarblech asked with a gruff sigh. She let go of the ear, glowering like a disappointed parent, and pointed at a spot for the three to sit like children in trouble.

  “He dove in to save one of your pirates,” Tarness said, a smirk on his lips. “But Tori thinks it was the mermaid.”

  “I tried to stop him,” she said, her eyes filled with worry. She swallowed hard. “He said he saw a woman.”

  “Damn mermaids, they’re all over the place here,” Jarblech complained bitterly. “Didn’t I mention that?”

  “No,” Tarness and Hector said in unison.

  “It was her, or one of them,” Dallow said with a sigh, his hand on the memndus stone against his temple. “And they just went underwater.”

  “Is he safe?” Victoria asked, gripping her stomach as if there were anything left to empty.

  “No,” Jarblech spat. “She’ll probably drown him, or eat him, or mate with him then eat him.” She stopped when Hector held up a hand in warning. “What do you want to do? Head over there?”

  They all looked at Victoria, who stared off in the distance. She closed her eyes in concentration, and after a long moment shook her head in disdain. She turned to Jarblech. “You mentioned a feast for Tamara? This will probably take a while.”

  They floated feet below the ocean’s cover, with Moyra’s arms wrapped around his neck. The water moved, but they didn’t, and the feeling of weightlessness overcame him. He looked into her eyes and saw...something so compelling. An endless hunger that drew him in. Could he possibly give enough? Would that all-consuming hunger devour him? He should’ve been afraid, should’ve been fighting to free himself before he was consumed, but in those large, dark eyes, dark as the deep ocean, he also found acceptance. She believed in him, or wanted to, and it was every bit the encouragement he needed.

  Their lips pressed firmly together as they breathed the same air. It wasn’t a kiss...or not just a kiss. Angst needed every breath she gave him, and he tasted her in the air they shared. He knew it was wrong, and felt like a moth, but she burned so brightly.

  Angst pulled his head back, Moyra still holding him as close as clothes. His belly was tucked in under her firm breasts, which heaved against his chest. He was grateful for their barriers—his clothes, her scales—as tho
ugh this made it a little okay.

  She held her mouth to his, and it wasn’t air, not yet. Her lips were closed and his were open. He was already longing to breathe, but she teased, her thin tongue dancing along his lips. As his eyes widened in panic, her mouth opened to remind him that she was air and life. He drew in deeply as her tongue flicked across his, dizzy from the lack of oxygen and rushing blood from passion he knew was wrong. Guilt was overpowered by the need to survive, and that, somehow, had to make his transgressions forgivable.

  Moyra had told him she saw his thoughts as pictures—now he wondered if she could translate their meaning. Rather than overthink it, he spoke in his mind like he had with Tori.

  “Am I dead?” he thought. “I hate dying.”

  “You are safe with me, An-gst,” she said in his mind. “Not dead, but I was so worried when the monsters attacked.”

  “I’m glad I’m not dead,” he thought in relief. “I don’t think I would taste very good.”

  “I think you taste wonderful,” she teased, taking full advantage of his need to breathe.

  Her face was becoming harder to see. The light was fading as they sank lower into the ocean. His heart raced, and he kicked frantically as panic overtook him. Her grip moved to his shoulders, forcing him down. He tried pulling away, but her arms were incredibly strong. He thought she shook her head, but it was almost impossible to see. They stopped moving, and she allowed him to breathe, which he did in desperate gulps.

  “Do you trust me, An-gst?”

  “I want to.” He breathed her in slowly, steadily. The fear became distress, and his heart slowed to a jog. As he calmed, he could hear the distant song of Dulgirgraut. It was sincere, soothing, and his eyes began to glow so he could see her face more clearly. She waited with all the patience he would’ve expected from a butterfly, squinting, her face taut, and her tail jerking from side to side. What was he so afraid of? Certainly not Moyra—she could’ve killed him without this adventure—the fear was his own and he buried it as much as he could. Dulgirgraut stopped singing and the glow from his eyes faded so she became a beautiful silhouette on a dark foggy night.