The Truth about Heroes: Complete Trilogy (Heroes Trilogy)

by Krista Gossett

  She was too hot to pay any thought to that pun and Finn just nodded skeptically. He made a move to grab the handle of the door, but Verity grabbed his wrist harshly and shook her head when his eyes snapped to hers.

  “It’s too hot to touch or I would have had it open by now. How the hell did you get down here anyway? What about Calyr?”

  Verity wasn’t usually one to swear but the heat was getting to her. Desert heat could be cruel but it was dry; this place was wet and musty, no airflow and wholly unforgiving. If this place were any hotter, the moisture would be distorting the door with the rise of steam. For all the moisture and heat, this place was so far devoid of any actual hot springs. Certainly not the lava pits it would take to heat the town above.

  Finn grinned, but it was a weak and exhausted attempt as well.

  “I wasn’t about to let you do this alone, so I brought along a powder to spike his wine. I don’t know how long it will last but I figured it would buy enough time to find you.”

  “I never told you where I was going…” Verity countered, partially with shame.

  “I figured I’d start with the top. It would be like the Reishefolk to build from the bottom up to go back down,” Finn poked fun at his own kind now.

  Finn tore the right sleeve off of his shirt (being left-handed) and wrapped it around his hand to try the handle. It squeaked wretchedly like nails on a chalkboard but swung open, belching a hot burst of air in the process. It was darker in there and the walls seemed to pulse grotesquely but they stepped inside cautiously.

  Verity reeled back in horror as her eyes adjusted enough to see what she was looking at.

  “By the goddess, Finn, what IS that?” her voice trembled in revulsion.

  Around the perimeter of the cavern, a huge bloated fleshcolored worm sat and throbbed like the epitome of gluttony. It smelled of rot and death but other than the worm, there was nothing but steam and rocks. Logic told her rocks did not have a melting point but the rocky walls looked drippy and smooth like lumps of wax. The worm had hundreds of feelers from end to end, but which end was head or tail was anyone’s guess. The feelers had what looked like great sucking mouths on the ends, poorly mimicking the endlessly hungry beaks of baby birds, only with wicked little teeth. Verity clung to Finn, still clutching her blades, and noticed he had pulled a long dagger from somewhere himself.

  From behind them, where the bronze door laid open, they heard heavy, clumsy footfalls and turned to see Calyr shuffling in, looking overly drowsy and dejected.

  “Calyr, what the hell is this thing?” Finn demanded of his stepbrother. However, Calyr kept shuffling past them and towards the great ugly worm.

  They watched numbly as he approached the feelers and Verity cried out when several shot out and grabbed Calyr by his hands and feet, lifting him off of the ground. The hungry feelers tore at his clothes greedily, stripping him naked, some latching on to him to feed on his blood. They could see old ringed bruises from previous feedings on his body.

  After a minute or so, the feelers seemed sated or weak as they put Calyr down and the entire gargantuan body of the beast sagged as if in slumber.

  Calyr crawled away from the feelers weakly towards Finn and Verity who were still too stunned to move. Finn removed his shirt and dressed his brother in it.

  “We won’t have much time before it wakes again,” Calyr croaked with exhaustion. “The root that you used to put me to sleep—I have been building a tolerance to it for years, knowing how it affected this thing. So many people I have fed to it, all to save my own hide… If not for the root it might have eaten me too, but each time, it slept before it did… If you want this to end, it’s your move now. I will not miss it… Perhaps I even hoped you would be so reckless as to find your way here…”

  Verity felt both pity and disgust with Calyr now.

  “This is the cause of the weather? How many people has this thing eaten?” Verity asked him now.

  “Hundreds. Thousands, maybe. There are no jails here—this is why…”

  Verity turned to Finn now, her face angry but resolute.

  “I need you fly me close to that thing, along its body,” Verity told Finn, not at all happy with what she planned.

  Finn’s face winced gruesomely but he nodded and picked her up. He looped around first then dove close. Verity’s blades bit into the spongy hide of the worm and a great ripping sound followed as she filleted the creature open like a fish. After a few feet or so, bodies in various stages of decay tumbled out in slimy piles of gore, the smell nearly unbearable. The only thing comparable was the carnage in Myceum but again, this was worse for the fact that the space was enclosed and the bodies were not at all fresh. Calyr found his feet as the gore started to pool and reflexively vomited before he could pull himself to flee. Halfway down, Verity no longer needed to cut; the sheer weight of the dead tore the rest of the body open for her. A high-pitched keening of the dying creature kicked up and Finn’s wings were nearly caught by the feelers trying to stop its killers. He swung Verity away and flew out of the bronze door, kicking it closed as he went. The thing inside lost its shape as the body tore and deflated.

  Calyr was slumped against the wall, twenty or so feet from the door. Finn put down Verity to approach his brother, although he was trying his best not to vomit himself.

  “Why did you suffer that thing? For the weather?” Finn asked his brother, seething with anger and disgust.

  “I know I have not been the best brother to you, Finn, but I thought you would think better of me than that,” Calyr told him now, the long tunic style shirt hanging to mid-thigh, the missing sleeve making it hang awkwardly on his thin frame. “Our great grandfather found this thing when the Reishe first settled here and could not bring himself to kill it. When it feeds, it releases a chemical that feels better than sex…”

  Verity had guessed as much, seeing as how Calyr’s naked body had gone rock hard once the thing latched onto him.

  Calyr went on to tell them how their great grandfather had started off keeping the thing a secret, letting it feed off of him as he built up his home around it. It got bigger as it fed and one night he got drunk enough to brag about it. He had watched in horror as, instead of merely feeding off of them, it devoured his friends. For a long while he had not gone to the thing, thinking it would surely eat him too, but the thing had created a need in him and a madness that led him back to the creature.

  Their great grandfather also had a fondness for the harrow root, which he later found was the thing that stopped him becoming a meal for the beast. He had fed the beast a great many people before learning that was what saved him though. The beast was rougher with the man though when it was not properly fed, so he could not just let it feed solely from him. He did not think the harrow root would be able to save him from that fate forever.

  It became clear that the man passed the secret on to family, but the thing giving off so much heat was an occurrence of only recent years and the thing became ravenous. The only reason Calyr was able to feed the beast so well was because the climate phenomenon it caused drew more people to the Peaks. Like his ancestors, he tried to feed the beast only the lowest sorts— thieves, murderers, rapists, but it was increasingly difficult to keep up with the demand.

  “I didn’t want to do it; I was horrified when our grandfather passed it on to me. It was a horror meant for our father and he deserved it too, after the way he did our mother. I know she wasn’t the best mother, but part of that was because of how he abused her,” Calyr told them, as Finn helped him ascend the path they had gone down to get there. Verity walked behind them, taking in all that Calyr said.

  “No matter how a woman is treated, she should never take it out on her children. That is inexcusable,” Verity snapped at him now.

  Calyr looked back at her and sighed heavily.

  “I should have told my grandfather to shove it, I know. But in the years before I inherited his title, he had been grooming me with the harrow root. It only takes one t
ime before the horror is overridden with the pleasure the thing gives. And you are right, Verity. Our mother was wrong. Yet she was the only mother we ever had. Children are groomed to crave the love of their parents, even blind themselves to the brand of ‘love’ they are fed.”

  The doors of the elevator were shut when they reached it and when Calyr pushed the button, it opened to the lift being inside and they stepped inside and stood in silence as it rose to the top floor.

  Verity hadn’t expected the change to be so quick, but when they stepped out from behind the tapestry (Calyr limping to his bed), Verity could see the snow falling softly outside of the windows. The city below was lit up like a Christmas tree and she could see all of the people below crowding the streets in awe of the winter that finally came.

  No, Verity decided, she did not want to stay here. She would always see that worm when she closed her eyes here. She wondered if Calyr would come along with them when they left. Through all Verity had been through, she wasn’t too bitter to not believe in second chances. It did not take long for Daunting Peaks to cover the place in a blanket of snow, the warm weather plants shrinking away in revulsion. Verity wasn’t sure if it was revulsion or cold that made her shiver, but this was no place for a desert girl and Finn did not seem too eager to keep her here either.

  Calyr seemed to want to avoid them out of shame but she asked Finn if she could talk to Calyr alone. However, she had done it, she had managed to convince Calyr that there was such a thing as redemption and he had given in after all. They headed southwest towards the mountains where an empty town stood waiting for new management.

  Chapter 14: Heroes’ Tribute

  Krose had washed the last of the dishes, that night, exhausted but sated still. The restaurant had been open for a while now and as tiring as the work could be, he never grew sick of it. It was nothing like adventuring but that was what he found most charming about it.

  He certainly had no lack of female companionship since settling in the electric city and this place he ran was no hole in the wall like the dive bar he had met Rienna in. Something about a man that loved to cook was like an aphrodisiac to the women here. Never mind that some of the women were married; it certainly didn’t stop them and they were not his vows to keep. A jealous husband or two might try to get his revenge but Dinsch at his back made quick work of jilted suitors. It wasn’t something Krose gloated over, but he certainly was grateful for it.

  His brother Seije was always busy and it took quite a bit of convincing to get him to agree to visit and, of course, bring Rienna along. At one point Arden was supposed to come but had to see his brother in Abundance instead. He briefly remembered the man’s twin brother Sylvas. It was memorable because it was rare that only one twin was born Soulless. Arden’s brother had been tasked to be a lowly courtesan and, come the day his Purpose was named, his parents shunned him with cruel ease. He bore no particular fondness for Arden but he hoped that after visiting Sylvas, he might visit Krose to let him know how Arden’s twin fared. He knew that not all of the Soulless did well with souls.

  Krose’s hair had gotten longer rather quickly, another thing that seemed to be popular with the ladies. He pulled the apron over his head when he finished with the dishes and headed out to the front of the restaurant/bar where Dinsch was wiping down the tables with Seles.

  Seles had been flourishing here in a way he had never seen her before. She smiled more, looking less like the scholar, less like the politician’s wife and more like someone he could definitely see Dinsch falling for.

  She wore her hair in a ponytail when she worked, which looked cute for revealing the daintily pointed ears of a Bryfolk. She had no tail as most of them did so she could easily wear human styles and they suited her well. She was not embarrassed of her feet as Dinsch was so she didn’t tower over people when she wasn’t walking, settling back on her heels when she wasn’t moving about. When Krose came out of the kitchen, she had a broad grin for him. In fact, at the end of the night, she seemed to have more pep in her step than any of them and she worked just as hard.

  “You look like you have good news,” Seles prompted, at the look on Krose’s face and noticing he clutched a letter.

  “Rienna and Seije are visiting next week,” Krose spilled, just as impatient to let them know.

  Dinsch perked up his ears and dropped his rag, springing for Seles. She squealed when he picked her up and swung her around in his glee.

  “We have to plan something special!” Dinsch gushed out, still spinning Seles around as she swatted at him playfully to put her down.

  “Yeah, of course we do. I was thinking we could start planning tomorrow, see if we can get the city involved,” Krose agreed, tucking the letter into his shirt pocket.

  One of the barmaids had been waiting to go home with Krose, a woman named Jalay, but the wheels in his head were already turning with the anticipation of his brother and Rienna coming to visit so he sent her away apologetically. He was up until the wee hours of morning before slipping off to bed. He thought maybe he had gone overboard but when he ran it by Dinsch and Seles, they were as enthused as he had been to see it through.

  It would be a lot of planning and bartering, but other than rolling out a proper heroes’ welcome, it would also drum up more business in the long term. They certainly weren’t hurting for business, but with more income, they could expand—hire more employees, open more restaurants. This business could have them all living well before they were old enough to retire or pass it on to a new generation. Krose started by hiring new temporary staff to replace them so they could supervise and enjoy the events too. Or maybe not so temporary if things went according to plan.

  Krose dealt with putting in food orders, setting up more seating in their outdoor space and securing a venue nearby for more of what he had planned. He sent off his more energetic friends to bargain with vendors to make it a real party. They set about putting up fliers, beefing up security, hiring entertainers— this was going to be unforgettable. As it all came to together, he marveled at what they could accomplish when they really got down to it. He had played with the idea of the restaurant many times, but it had been Rienna that had really helped him make up his mind. So many times on their journey, his humble offerings had snapped her out of her moods.

  He could still remember the day he met her, the travel-worn bride in the torn wedding dress loaded for bear. He had been foolish enough to take her lightly and got off easy. He had insisted she trade the dress for something more inconspicuous and she had relented there at least, giving him some hope that traveling with her wasn’t going to wholly suck. On the way there, they had slept in a barn together. She wouldn’t sleep until she was sure he was asleep. Of course, he had been good at faking and once she had gone to sleep, he ended up watching her sleep that night.

  Seeing her so vulnerable had put up doubts that she would really be able to help him, but as it turned out he was very wrong about that. Neither of them were prepared for the horrors the Bryfolk were subjected to at the hands of the ogres, but Rienna had handled herself far better than he had expected. Even now, Krose could not get Dinsch to talk about it—Seles had been better able to talk but her time with an ogre had been shorter before her future husband had saved her from that fate. Krose suspected that Seles was mentally built of stronger stuff than Dinsch as well, but would never admit that aloud.

  Krose supposed he was softer than he would admit too; Rienna had also given her virginity to him during the Summer Festival at the Burrow (which was becoming a more common name for Bryfolk Hole). He knew that it hadn’t meant to her near what it had to him—she was throwing away a piece of what her gender put on a pedestal because the man she had saved it for was dead. She wanted to throw away what intimidated her, what she thought made her weak and get rid of what could make her seem vulnerable or childish. Krose knew all of that, yet still had held a hope she could love him. He realized that was a foolish hope before investing too much into it, but he also knew that sh
e did love him in a way. They were bonded as warriors and had been through hell together. Whatever else happened, they were a kind of family that blood could never be, bound in a true covenant of blood on the battlefield rather than the water of the womb.

  He had never seen Rienna as the bright-eyed girl in the diaphanous prismatic gown. Nonetheless, he could picture it from the remnants he had seen of that gown. Sometimes, she could be almost sweet and it always took his breath away. He would never tell her that either because chances are, she would knock him on his ass for getting that mushy. He had seen her hate become love and even her love become hatred. She had lost four men she had loved (her father, Belias, Ashe and, though she would never admit it, Melchior). She had not romantically or familiarly loved Krose, but he knew she would mourn him just as deeply if he passed too. Of all of them though, he thought that it was Night and Freesia that really haunted her. He knew that she had placed a piece of her own hopes into seeing theirs work out and seeing them destroyed from the outside was a real blow to her. She saw what she had been tucking away in her own tragedy unfold again in vivid clarity.

  Krose imagined that in some way, she saw her and Belias in the two of them too personally. That watching Freesia fight her feelings was something she was deeply invested in, something she could understand. It was Freesia that died first though and it shattered her hopes for love against the worst odds. She could do nothing to console Night, no one could. Erised walked right into that hole in his heart and there was no salvation for him. Erised always found those dark cracks and Rienna was always left to clean up his reign of destruction.

  He didn’t think Rienna would survive the blows at Elcarim. He had seen her walking like a specter on the battlements at the abandoned fort and it had taken every ounce of restraint to not follow to make sure she didn’t throw herself off of the wall. Yet somehow, she surprised him then too. At that point, he knew why they wouldn’t work as lovers. Whatever he thought he knew about her, he really didn’t know her very well at all.