“His condition…” Rungel said. “Wait, move with what?”
“Aesterwind.”
“A phenomenon linked to the weather,” Kallum informed. “A hot-air current that circumnavigates north and south.”
Rungel laughed. “Impossible!”
“We’ll be back soon,” Sonja said. “We need to track down the people who purchased those plants.”
“Umm… Sonja?” Volk swallowed. His hands tightening around the ledger.
She raised a brow. “Red?”
“Look!” Volk pointed to a name on the ledger.
Sonja gazed dumbly at the paper; she was useless when it came to reading. “Right, who is that?”
“Kaine Bluwahlt.” Sonja’s father.
She sprinted from the room with Volk trailing behind.
***
They burst into Sonja’s father’s residence.
“Dad?” she screamed.
The hearth was warm but needed stoking. She focused on the table. In its centre was a filthy blissfruit plant. Fuck.
“Burn it!” Sonja pointed at the plant. “Dad?”
Volk set it alight.
Sonja lit a candle from the hearth’s embers, then raced up the stairs. She stomped through the upper floor like an angry slater beast. “Dad?”
“Ugh, Sonja?” Kaine questioned.
Sonja burst into her father’s bedroom. “Dad! Are you alright?”
“Yes, of course. Are you?”
“Earlier this sun! You purchased a blissfruit!” She forced the candle light to illuminate his face.
“Yes, tasty little things.”
“They infect people.”
“What?”
“Dad, how many fruits were on the plant when you went to bed?”
“Three… One for each of us for—”
Sonja slammed down the candle then raced back to the dining room. From the corner of her eye, she saw one of those cursed fruits on the floor. She unsheathed her claymore and leapt from the stairs. Juices squirted. The fruit flattened.
“No tentacles?” Volk queried.
Sonja’s response involved flinging the husk into the hearth with the tip of her blade. It quickly burned up. “Should be two more!”
Both were beneath the table. Neither had tendrils. Still, they dared not touch the fruit with bare hands. Swift flicks from their weapons sent them into the hearth.
“Is everything alright?” Kaine called from upstairs.
“Yes, Dad. Go back to sleep.” Sonja turned to Volk. “How many more names on that ledger?”
“Twelve, not including Taringa.”
“Shit!” Sonja swore. “Let’s head to the Wounded Wyvern, and see if Velo has had any luck.”
***
Outside the Wounded Wyvern, a short man stood with arms folded. Ansgren. He halted them as they attempted to enter. “Ansgren’s placement is observation obligation for the illustrious Captain. Ansgren pervades Velo has incinerated half-a-dozen blissfruits.”
“Great,” Sonja said. “Who’s were they? Any infected?”
“Ansgren erected an exposition,” the strange man said. He offered a sheet of paper to Volk. “None blighted. The gluttonous vacate naught to contaminate.”
Volk scratched the matched names off his ledger. That meant there were six left. He looked up at Ansgren. “You? You purchased one?”
“Ansgren indulges in exquisites. Alas, blissfruit is currently untenanted. Ansgren shall eviscerate vegetation upon residential reinstation of the moons.”
Sonja glared at him. “And where is Velo now?”
“Velo incinerates Pinksohn’s, whilst Rahlman proceeds persuasion inducement for Professor Formidor.”
“Ouch, imagine trying to pry one of these from Formidor?” Volk laughed.
“Rahlman of all people…” Sonja tutted. “They’ll both be cranky next sun. So, three plants remain?”
“Correct,” Volk said. “Semelis, Esriver, and Enkammer residences.”
“Ansgren, when Velo and Rahlman return, send them to see Professor Rungel.” Sonja glanced at Volk. “You know where these residences are?”
Volk nodded. “Of course!”
***
Three residences. Three incinerated plants. Zero infections.
Sonja and Volk reported back to Professor Rungel’s lab.
“Cleansed?” Velo asked.
“Yeah…” Sonja nodded. “Rahlman?”
Velo laughed. “I checked in to Formidor’s after visiting the Pinksohn residence.”
Sonja raised a brow.
“Yeah, Rahlman was playing by the rules too much,” Velo said. “I didn’t want to work my way into Formidor’s bad books, but I preferred it to the alternative of a plant-faced Holtur.”
“You didn’t leave behind any fruit?” Volk asked.
“To Formidor’s disgust, I was completely thorough.”
Kallum chuckled. “So, no more infected? Holtur is cleansed?”
“Seems that way. Can you believe Dad bought one?” Sonja said.
“For real?”
“I can confirm that,” Volk said. “First time I’ve seen Sonja swinging her claymore around the dining room.” The group all laughed.
“Oh yeah, the fruit is fine to consume,” Rungel stated. “It seems it needs to hit a certain ripeness to sprout the tentacles. Even then, I’m pretty sure they only function for a few hours, and not on all plants. Perhaps the plant needs to reach a certain level of maturity. Or perhaps—”
“How about Tyson?” Sonja interrupted the tangent.
“Uh, I can’t say,” Rungel stated. “I’ll keep a close watch on him. Hopefully we can remove the fruit without too much hassle. Don’t worry, everything will be back to normal in no time.”
“Now we just need the weather to stabilise,” Sonja said.
“I think I like this heat,” Velo said.
“You’re crazy!” Sonja stretched out and yawned. “I think I need an ale.” She looked at the other two slayers. “Pub?”
“Pub.”
***
After the sun of slaying, and moon of hunting tiny trees, Sonja deserved a few relaxing ales. The Wounded Wyvern was filled with intoxicated slayers. She was jealous of their state.
“To blissfruit,” Sonja sarcastically quipped, clinking mugs with Volk. They downed their ales. It was good. Then, Kallum and Rungel raced into the tavern. Damn.
“No…” Volk sighed.
“Sonja!” Kallum cried. “It’s Shinto!”
“What happened?”
Kallum was struggling to catch his breath. Sonja was worried he might have one of his episodes. “He went mad! Broke through the barrier and strangled Tyson.” He sat down, focusing on his breathing.
“What?” Sonja asked.
Kallum struggled some more. Sonja reached for the elixir in his pocket.
“He is still contained,” Rungel said. “But he has gone mad. We need an almighty slayer to help us!”
Idiot. You don’t speak words like that among a horde of drunken slayers. Sonja stood up, gesturing for Volk and Velo to do the same.
“I’ll help you!” said an intoxicated slayer.
“As will I!” another said.
“You ca’rn ‘ave my fax!” That slurred combo made no sense.
“Kallum, stay,” Sonja said. He wouldn’t be able to hold off an episode if he ran again. “Professor, lead the way!”
Sonja placed the elixir in her brother’s hand. He should be fine, but it was better to be safe than sorry. She then stood up, and followed the professor out. They rushed, being sure to outrun the drunken heroes that wanted to help.
***
Shinto had escaped. Sonja’s eyes fixed on the man wandering around the Bristrunstium’s courtyard. He ran in one direction, then scanned his surroundings. The confused man raced up to plants and trees, clawing at them, biting them.
Sonja gestured for Volk and Velo to flank either side. “Shinto!” she called out.
Shinto’s gaze
snapped towards her. His eyes glowed yellow-green, a ghostly apparition under the clouded moon. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that left his gnarled lips was a scratchy cry. He fell to all fours, then galloped towards Sonja like a hungry beast.
“Release him, horror!” Sonja called out, hoping to find some shred of humanity left in whatever charged towards her. She readied her stance, unsheathing her claymore. Sucking through her lips, she took in a deep breath. This was a monster—a horror—not a man. Sonja could slay a monster.
The clouds shifted, revealing the thing’s face. Each of those little fruits had sprouted into a small tree, the roots of which wrapped around the inhuman face. Shinto leapt towards her, revealing more small trees that burst from his chest, legs, and arms.
Sonja swiftly leapt to the side, burying her claymore into the beast’s ribs. With sickening crunches her blade cut through knots of tangled roots. She spun around and readied herself to follow up with another attack.
The creature leapt at her.
Her blade had gone through the midsection of the creature. It should be in two pieces, but Shinto was whole.
Sonja tried to block the strike, reinforcing her claymore in a horizontal position. She skidded across the cobbles from the sheer force of the attack.
Sickening ooze gushed from Shinto’s claws as they clasped around Sonja’s blade. Fluorescent eyes flickered as green teeth chomped at the air, seeking her flesh. Shit, the merchant had become strong.
A spearhead pierced through Shinto’s head, and flaming blades struck at his wood-like flesh.
“Captain, are you alright?” Volk asked.
Velo flung the creature to the ground, then removed his spear.
“Yeah,” Sonja said, stepping back from the monstrosity. “Better than him.”
“That was a close one!” Velo huffed.
Suddenly, Shinto moved. The creature spun around, sweeping the legs of the three slayers. The movement seemed to extinguish the flames—on both the creature’s body and Volk’s hook swords—and it leapt to its feet. It screeched, then towered over the three slayers.
Sonja attempted to get back to her feet, but Shinto’s arm had her pinned down. The creature’s body then twisted, and it pinned the two other slayers with its shifting legs. Shinto’s free arm plucked a fruit that had, somehow, already grown from one of the trees on his face. Yellow-green eyes fixed on the fruit, and it tilted its head to inspect it.
Barbed tendrils slid from the fruit, reflecting the eerie light of the creature’s eyes. It smiled, slowly turning its attention to Sonja.
“Hey, fucktimber!” Rungel yelled from behind the creature.
Shinto twisted around, inspecting the professor.
Rungel smirked, hefting a bucket of water to his chest. “Get a little salt in your diet!” He doused the creature with the bucket’s contents.
It squealed, staggering back. Shinto’s body was smoldering, shrinking with each step it retreated. Disintegrating with each wretched scream that left its lips.
Some of the liquid splashed onto Sonja. She frantically wiped it from her body. “What is that stuff?” A good question given what it was doing to the melting pile of wood.
“Water,” Rengal said, smiling. “Ocean water.”
“Salt water?” Velo asked.
“Yeah,” the professor said. “I’ve been studying the plant, remember? Not for long, but long enough to uncover the reaction it has to salt water.”
Sonja laughed. “That explains why the fruits didn’t go all crazy over the ocean. Its invasion attempt would have sunk and melted!”
“Why didn’t you just douse it in the lab?” Volk asked.
“Salt water is not something I retain high stock of. What use would I have for it in a forestry lab?” Rungel stated, then pointed at a nearby building. “The fishmongers often leave some of their catch outside. Generally the smaller fish to use as bait later on.”
Sonja only just noticed the little fish flopping around them. Shinto was now a pile of sludge.
“Thank the fishmongers!” Sonja said, then burst out laughing. “Alright, reckon we can enjoy an ale now? Without having to deal with this trader again? The sun and moon’s events have made me incredibly thirsty.”
“Pub,” Volk stated.
“I’m getting too old for this,” Velo disagreed. “Think I might try something else.”
“Suit yourself,” Sonja said. “Guess we’ll see you on the wall.”
Velo sighed, then set off in the opposite direction.
***
The next sun, Velo did not appear on the north wall.
Fortunately, the sun began quiet. It was not all that uncommon for a quite sun to succeed a hectic one. Most of the nearby creatures had suffered and required just as much rest as the citizens of Holtur. Sonja lazily leaned against the battlements. She hadn’t slept much, and her muscles were still aching from dealing with Shinto and the slaying of the previous sun.
Volk made his way to the wall walk, then asked, “Have you seen Velo? Since the Shinto incident?”
“No…” Sonja furrowed her brow.
“We cleansed that shit, right?” Volk asked. “I mean, what if he got infected?”
“I doubt it,” Sonja said, stretching out her legs. “We were thorough.”
“I don’t know—” Volk cut off as a hot gust of air blasted up from the south. With the fiery breeze, shadows flew over them. Vlibers. It looked like hundreds of them.
“I thought there were only four?” Sonja whispered to herself. “Don’t attack!” she commanded down the line.
There weren’t hundreds. There were thousands. The mysterious creatures floated overhead with the hot air. It was remarkable. Then she noticed a large shell. Shinto’s shell. It flew over with two vlibers supporting it, two more pulling it.
The shell flew close to the wall—close to the command bartisan. After it passed, Velo waved from the opening.
“Sorry, Captain!” Velo called out. “But I need a change of scenery!”
Sonja shook her head and laughed. “You’re an idiot, Velo, you know that?”
Velo simply shrugged.
“Wherever you end up,” Sonja called out, “leave the plants alone!”
AFTERWORD
Holtur Stories has been one of my favourite projects to date. It all started with Flight of Flame (the order the stories appear in this book is the order I wrote them) as a way to hone my craft and practice writing short stories. I posted it with a critique group (www.fantasy-writers.org) as a monthly challenge. I then repeated that process over the next 10 months; I never thought I’d enjoy writing short pieces so much!
Writing these stories also gave me an incredible bond with the characters of Holtur. I think this really shines in The Holtur Curse, which is set shortly after Flesh Ripened. I wanted each slayer to feel like a hero in their own right.
If you’ve read the other Holtur books, I hope that Holtur Stories has given you another level of appreciation for this amazing, yet terrifying, town. If this was your first venture into Holtur, be sure to check out the rest of the series!
Enjoyed reading Holtur Stories? Well, it would be awesome if you were able to leave a short review. Reviews help books gain visibility, and yours will help bring Holtur to the attention of more readers. You don’t need to write a whole essay on the story, simply leaving “It was an awesome anthology!” can help out far more than you’d think it would.
Just head over to my book page by clicking this link, select your platform, and share your thoughts with the world. Goodreads reviews also help out a lot.
Thanks again!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As always, a big cheers to you, the reader, for supporting me on my writing journey. I hope you’ve enjoyed these bite-sized adventures through Holtur.
Many amazing authors (at www.fantasy-writers.org) critiqued these stories and helped them become the amazing chunks of glory that they are. A special shout out to the members who helped me out, in one
way or another, through 2017: Aiara, Arisillion, Asenath, brianjvc, Chelle, DanWerkhoven, Eragon, gabrias, gjb504, Harmonian, hiddenelves, indigo, Ingthor, Jon Wolff, Kukana, LinaBean, Mare Matthews, Rayjonez, SallyM, Sky, snowmooneclipse, Starrynightgal, Stoneaxe, Super Nova, Tarragon Slayer, Wee Nelson.
None of my stories would be complete without the shrewd-perfectionist attitude of my partner, Jeni. Thanks for all the hard work you put in and not being afraid to tell me when something sucks or needs a serious restructure.
Thanks again for reading Holtur Stories!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hailing from the land where people wrestle crocodiles for sport and utilise kangaroos for transport, Cameron Wayne Smith is a fantasy author with a taste for adventure.
Cameron has spent his adult life travelling and learning about the world while working in a huge variety of jobs. Seriously, at just over 30, Cameron has worked in libraries and fighter jets, been a tour guide in Central Australia and North Queensland, and engaged in all sorts of miscellaneous employment.
Best known for his Holtur series, Cameron writes fast-paced action stories set in fantasy worlds. His stories are garnished with a hint of horror and a modest sprinkling of hilarity.
Cameron's hobbies include travel, skydiving, snorkelling, bush-walking, pet-sitting, and brewing his own beer. He also loves the geeky, fantasy, and science fiction stuff that you can find in books, games, and on screen.
Connect with Cameron via his website, Facebook, Twitter, or Goodreads.
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