The sun lowered, and the weather grew cool—became less hot would be a more accurate term—then a pack of grabion attacked. Annoying insects. They weren’t really an issue, but were followed by more slater beasts and rock golems.
Exhaustion was another enemy of the slayers. Twelve were injured by that follow up attack, another two dead. Terrible casualties to be inflicted by such simple creatures.
As the sun began to set, a flock of shock wyverns flew close to the wall. It was an unusual sight: the tiny wyverns generally clung to the mountains. A few stray creatures came close, but the majority of them retreated north after the slayers attacked with arrows and bolts. Shock wyverns could be aggressive, but, like many other creatures they had dealt with that sun, were evidently disorientated.
Finally, the sun streaked its final rays across a bloody sky. First moon would rise soon. They had survived the heat wave. Sonja flicked her hands to the side, launching beads of sweat—infused with the blood of several monstrosities—over the battlements.
Sonja climbed down from the wall walk. Her eyes met with Volk's. “Pub?”
Volk’s freckly face seemed to perk up at that word. “Pub,” he repeated.
Many of the slayers were walking the same direction. Such a sun had racked up quite a thirst!
Velo caught up to them, then asked, “Did either of you see Tyson this sun?”
Sonja scratched her chin. “No…” She couldn’t recall seeing him since they returned from the beach.
“Was he injured?” Volk asked. “Or… you know? That second group of rock golems…” He shuddered. “Shit, I need a drink.”
“I hope those leeches didn’t get to him,” Velo said. “I’ll head around to his residence and make sure he is alright. I’ll catch you up at the Wounded Wyvern after, let you know how he is.”
“Thanks Velo,” Sonja said, nodding. Damn, she was thirsty.
***
Ale soothed her parched throat, calmed her mind, and washed away the events of the sun. Sure, the blood-sweat mixture had stained her undergarments—which was now her main attire—and dried over her skin. But she could relax. The sun hadn’t been all that long either. Normally the sun lingered in the sky longer during the hot weather, but in truth, they were closer to the frozen suns than they were to the slaying season. Not to mention, for Sonja, time always progressed faster when busy slaying.
Volk sat down across from Sonja. He was just as bloodstained. It actually looked as though shit had been smeared across his pale, freckly chest. “I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed.
“What?” Sonja raised a brow.
“Taringa, she bought one of those blissfruit plants.”
Sonja laughed. Volk’s younger cousin often did things he didn’t approve of. “Yeah, I noticed that on the bar. Waste of gold if you ask me.”
“I’ll drink to that!” And he did, taking a large gulp of the not-yet-hot ale. “Sonja, we need to make friends with someone that has the opposite blessing to me.”
Sonja coughed a laugh, spilling ale through her nose. “And that is? Someone normal? Don’t worry, Rigst should be back in town soon enough.”
“No!” Volk shook his head. “Maybe blessed by Glacious? Or something like that. Someone who can hold our drinks and keep them cold when the weather is like this.”
“Ha!” Sonja laughed, not between pulls of ale this time. “That would be fantastic. How handy would that actually be? I mean, for what, once every twenty years? Thirty years? More? I have no memory of weather being like this!”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“We shall bathe in their blood,” someone sung across the room. “We shall bathe in their blood!” another voice echoed. Then another. Again, and again. A chant had begun, calling everyone in the room to join in. Sonja shook her head and joined in. Once everyone within the Wounded Wyvern was chanting their desire to bathe in blood a roar of cheering erupted from the psyched-up slayers.
Sonja raised her drink with a smirk.
“It’s not the time of year for such a chant,” Volk said, scratching his frizzy hair.
Sonja laughed. “No, it really isn’t. But, it’s been a damn rough sun! Let them chant if they—”
“Captain!” Velo screamed from across the room. “Captain!” He pushed and shoved through the slayers towards her. Spilling an excited slayer’s beverage was never a wise move—even for a fellow slayer. Velo was rampaging through the room without any care at all.
“What’s the matter?” Sonja asked, rising to her feet.
“Tyson!” Velo took in a deep breath. He looked exhausted. Terrified. The attention of the entire tavern was fixed upon him. “His face! It’s… fucked! Captain, come, take a look!”
Sonja rolled her eyes. In sync with Volk, she lifted her drink to her lips and slammed down the last of the contents. She stood, then followed Velo out of the tavern.
“See!” Velo said, pointing at Tyson.
He was right: Tyson’s face was fucked.
“What happened to you?” Sonja asked.
He managed a groan. It sounded painful. Embedded in his left cheek was a festering green pod. It looked like—
“Is that…” Sonja swallowed. “Is that one of those blissfruits? Stuck in your face?”
Tyson nodded lazily. He had gone pale. The skin around the pod had blistered red and was surrounded with circular clumps of white. Black and green veins spread from the pod, reaching out across his face and down his neck.
“Captain?” Tyson asked. “Am I going to be alright?”
Sonja muttered, but didn’t say anything clear. Instead, she shrugged, glancing to Volk. “What you think?”
Volk also shrugged. “Take him to Kallum?”
“Take who to me?” Kallum questioned. It was about time he arrived at the Wounded Wyvern. His gaze moved to Tyson. “What, may I ask, have you done to your face?”
“Ugh…” Tyson grunted. “Hurts.”
Kallum looked to Sonja. He didn’t look scared, in fact, he looked excited. The kid loved the unknown, even when—especially when—the situation was morbid. “Let’s get him to the Bristrunstium.”
“Velo, go back and grab Tyson’s plant,” Sonja commanded. “Bring it to the Bristrunstium.”
“Ask for Professor Rungel’s lab,” Kallum added. “Meet us there.”
“Shit, there’s one of those plants in the tavern!” Volk exclaimed. “Near Taringa!”
“Grab it,” Sonja said. “Now!”
“Good,” Kallum said as the other two raced off. “A physical plant should make identification easier, and if anyone could understand this mysterious plant, it would have to be Professor Rungel.”
***
Navigating the Bristrunstium was usually much easier with Kallum at her side—how he memorised the endless stone hallways and rooms, Sonja would never know—but Tyson’s condition was getting worse. He slowed them down, groaning in pain the entire walk to, and through, the scholarly building. So much so, that Volk and Velo had caught them up while they wandered the corridors.
Kallum located the door he was seeking. It looked considerably different than the others that lined the hall: built from heavy metal, secure. Sonja barely noticed the lever beside it that Kallum swiftly pulled down. A burst of air flowed from the room. The door seal released. It was warm, but not as hot as the air outside. Sonja rolled her eyes. She couldn’t understand some of the ridiculous experiments that were completed within the complex.
“Professor Rungel?” Kallum called out.
“In here,” he responded. “Don’t leave the door open!”
Sonja and Velo assisted Tyson through, then Volk sealed the door using a similar lever on the inside.
The room was humid. And green. It was like someone had taken a tropical jungle and placed it indoors. Muddy dirt—covered in leaves and branches—stuck to their boots. Ferns and other lush plants blocked out the dark, stone walls. Insects chirped at varying intensities. Sonja even saw a snake from the corner of her ey
e. It slithered away, hiding itself among dead vegetation.
“Professor, have you ever seen anything like this?” Kallum asked, pointing back at Tyson.
Rungel turned to the infected slayer. His eyes bulged beneath his thick glasses and he choked something inaudible. He shook his head. “What happened?”
Tyson slumped into an old tree stump that had been carved out and now resembled an armchair.
“A trader came from the south,” Velo stated. “Had these weird fruit plants.” He nodded to Kallum, who was carrying both Tyson’s plant and the one from the Wounded Wyvern. “It seems the fruit attached itself to him!”
Rungel fixed his attention to one of the potted plants. “I’ve not seen this before.” He held one up and rotated it slowly. “Looks like some kind of palm. However, those plants grow in the north. Far north. I couldn’t imagine something like this surviving so far south.”
As Rungel was rotating the plant—the one Tyson had purchased—one of the fruits dropped to the floor. They all turned their attention to the fallen fruit. Tiny vines, like needle-thin tentacles, sprouted from its form. The tips of the tendrils were barbed with sharp, black hooks. The fruit slowly hauled itself towards Rungel’s boots, like an octopus crawling across land.
Velo reached for the fruit.
“Idiot!” Kallum slapped away the hand. “Have you forgotten what happened to Tyson?”
Rungel moved away, and the tentacled-fruit started moving towards the next closest pair of boots. It was uninterested in the soil beneath it. Uninterested in the dead vegetation. It sought flesh.
“What are you?” Rungel asked, returning with a pair of purcrassus-leather gloves. He awkwardly picked up the fruit. Tentacles thrashed about wildly. Fast. Aggressive. The hooks buried into the gloves, then began to sprout new tendrils from the barbs. “Shit!”
“Red!” Sonja cried.
With a swirl of his hands, Volk summoned a ball of flame. Careful to not let the barbs latch onto his own skin, Volk moved the fire closer to the fruit. Either the heat or dryness of the flame was too much for it. The tentacles retracted. Rungel dropped it to the ground.
“Captain?” Volk asked.
The tentacles sprouted back out.
“Incinerate it,” Sonja said.
He doused the fruit in flame. It caught on fire with ease. They all watched it burn, sizzling and popping. Slowly, it cindered to ash.
“Red,” Velo finally interrupted the silence. “Reckon you could do that to the one attached to Tyson?”
Volk looked to Sonja, who in turn looked to the professor.
“I… I honestly don’t know,” Rungel said.
Sonja shrugged. “Give it a go.”
Volk conjured another ball of flame. He stepped towards Tyson—who now looked like he was asleep. Slowly, Volk brought the fire to the embedded fruit. Tyson’s eyes snapped open and he began to scream. Volk diffused the flame, taking a step back.
“We’ll put him in quarantine,” Rungel said. “Same with the plants. I’d suggest rounding up this merchant of yours. Collect all his plants until we understand what they are.”
“Will it kill him?” Tyson asked.
“Difficult to say,” Rungel stated. “Plants spread their seeds in a multitude of ways. I don’t see why a fruit would kill a host. Really, I’ll need to study the plant, and host, in order to confirm the severity of it all.”
“We need to find the rest of Shinto’s plants,” Sonja commanded. “If they are a risk, I’d rather them quarantined or incinerated.”
“Umm… Professor…” Velo’s hands nervously fidgeted. “We all ate that fruit. Could we be in trouble?”
Rungel sighed. “Again, it is hard to say. I’d assume not. Our stomachs are full of powerful chemicals—strong enough to deal with all that ale you slayers drink—I believe the fruit would have broken down by now. Still, keep me informed if any of you feel ill. I’ll study the fruits over the moons.”
“Need help with the tests?” Kallum asked.
“Damn straight,” Rungel said. “I need all the help I can get. After all, I will be in trouble with the wife—again—if I spend another set of moons at work!”
Kallum turned to his sister. “Find Shinto. Obtain his ledgers. We need to know how many of these plants are scattered throughout Holtur.”
“Agreed,” Sonja said, then turned to Volk and Velo. “Alright, let the search begin.”
“Search?” Kallum asked. “He’d be at Boulder Beach. The vlibers need water, remember?”
“Of course,” she said. “Velo, return to the Wounded Wyvern. See if you can find any leads on purchased blissfruit plants. Red, you and I shall apprehend Shinto.”
***
“Shinto!” Sonja called out as her and Volk approached Boulder Beach.
No response.
“Shinto?”
They stepped across the sand. Something smelt off.
“Red, increase your flame, as much as you can. I don’t want those fruits penetrating either one of us with their tentacles.”
Volk’s torch grew faintly brighter, illuminating the source of the stench. A vliber lay on its side, breathing heavily on the moist sand. Sonja then noticed the creature had a large sucker on its underside where its mouth should be. Around the sucker, four blissfruits protruded from the vliber’s blue-silver scales. It stirred upon noticing Sonja, crying out in pain.
“Try burning them off,” Sonja requested.
Volk nodded. The creature writhed and cried as Volk administered his fire to the infection. It thrashed about, but didn’t levitate from the sand. Not like the majestic creature they had seen the previous sun. The fruit caught alight, and the creature groaned louder. Veins streaked out under its skin, wrapping around the vliber’s skull and snaking towards its brain. The fruit popped, and the creature went limp. Dead.
Volk backed away from the creature, a single tear running down his cheek. “Guess we can’t burn them out.”
“No…” Sonja shook her head softly. “Probably best to cremate the creature. Make certain it won’t spread.”
Volk sucked in a deep breath, sniffling as he did. “Yes, Captain.” He ignited the other three fruits. No objection from the vliber this time. The vein-like tentacles of the remaining fruits coursed towards the creature’s brain. Volk spread the fire along the vliber’s torso. Whatever this was, they couldn’t let it infect Holtur.
“Shinto, you monster!” Sonja yelled at the shell.
Still no response.
She climbed into the shell, then looked around. Volk followed her in, his fire lighting up the inside. It had a mother-of-pearl colour to it that seemed to change depending on the angle it absorbed light. Stepping through, it felt much larger on the inside. The walls narrowed with each rotation. They passed dozens of the plants. It was visible that many more were here earlier. Plants that had been sold to the people of Sonja’s home.
They found a bedroll. The man in red rested atop it.
“SHINTO!” Sonja screamed, kicking at the man. He stirred at that.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, sitting bolt upright.
Sonja’s jaw dropped. “You.”
Shinto slowly rose to his feet. Sonja and Volk had their eyes glued to his cheeks. Embedded along his face were a collection of fruits; there had to be at least ten of them.
“Your face!” Volk exclaimed.
Shinto touched at his face, brows furrowing. “What?”
“Your fruits are infecting people!” Sonja exclaimed. “We need to destroy your plants. We need to know how many you sold in Holtur, and who to. NOW!”
“What?” Shinto said, incredulous. “My face? Blissfruit infecting people?”
Fiery light sprayed a kaleidoscope of colours across the shell as Volk began torching plants.
“Stop!” Shinto cried. He tried to run, but Sonja forced her palm into his sternum, knocking him back to his bed. His chest didn’t feel right. It was squishy, crunchy. Liquid oozed through his red singlet.
Sonja gasped, staring at her palm. It was covered in juice. Fortunately no barbs or fruits had attached to her. “Show me your chest!”
Shinto breathed shallow breaths.
“SHOW ME!”
He slowly raised his singlet. Shinto’s body was riddled with the fruits. He screamed, terrified. “What’s happening to me?” he rasped.
“I don’t know. Something to do with your plants.”
“Must you destroy them?”
“Better than they destroy us,” Sonja stated. “Your ledgers?”
Shinto stood, weakly. His eyes welled up as he looked at his burning plants. Sonja kept her distance from him. She had no idea if this infection could jump from host to host.
“Here,” Shinto said, handing several sheets of paper to Sonja. His eyes glumly focused on the floor.
“We must quarantine you,” Sonja stated. “We can’t risk this spreading.”
“I can’t!” Shinto argued. “The Aesterwind will move from this region next sun. My vlibers and I must move on.”
Sonja pulled him towards the exit of the shell, pointing at the burning vliber. “The infection already killed one of your vlibers,” she said. “I won’t allow this to spread.
“But—”
Volk thumped him on the back of the head, knocking the merchant out cold. “Let’s get him back to the Bristrunstium.”
***
It was a struggle, but they safely transported Shinto to the Bristrunstium. None of the pods had sought out Sonja or Volk’s flesh. Kallum and Rungel were now in a lab adjacent to the green room. One with sealed rooms separated by clear screens. A room used for quarantine.
“He’s covered in them!” Rungel exclaimed. “That can’t be, I mean, the trauma. Not good! Ugh, get him into this containment unit. I don’t want those things exploding!”
Sonja shoved Shinto into the unit and Rungel promptly sealed the door.
“Well, he didn’t think a check up was important,” Sonja stated. “Wanted to keep moving with that Aesterwind.”
Holtur Stories Page 16