Bastial Steel

by Narro, B. T.

  It leapt off her shoulder and started down the hill, continuing to yell words Cleve couldn’t hope to understand. The next sight caused his hand to draw his Bastial steel sword without even a thought. His chest squeezed around his heart with a surge of panic.

  Hundreds of mookers were jumping out of the bushes, from behind trees, from out of nooks, from between rocks. They were swarming like bees, rushing toward the encampment in a mad scramble. Their shouts had become high-pitched, sounding akin to a war cry.

  Lysha started down the hill. “Come on!” she screamed.

  Cleve and Jek followed. “Will they attack us?” Jek asked.

  “Maybe after we get inside, if they confuse us with being associated with the sleepers,” Lysha answered. “But not until then.”

  Lysha stopped at the bottom of the hill, waiting for all the hidden mookers to emerge and join the stampede of little monsters. There must’ve been a thousand of them. The sound of their grumbly shouts piqued someone’s interest, for a man within the encampment lifted up one of the black pieces of cloth between two trees for a look.

  He didn’t glance over at Cleve and the others to the side of the stampede. He didn’t give himself enough time for that. The moment he saw the mookers a few seconds from him, he screamed and ran farther into the encampment.

  Lysha broke into a sprint, keeping close to the mookers. “Jek, keep us as hidden as you can with SE clouds once we get inside.” She was holding her bow now. Cleve already had his sword in hand, and he noticed Jek drawing the wand from his belt.

  The mookers were so fast, Cleve would barely be able to catch up to them if he wanted to. It was a frightening thought to think that his party might not be able to outrun them. They kept to the side of the stampede of mookers, making sure they weren’t easily seen by those within the encampment.

  Already there were screams of both man and mooker. Cleve stopped next to Lysha behind a tree that used to have black cloth stretched around it. But now the cloth had fallen, trampled to shreds by mookers.

  Jek peaked around the tree, poking out his wand and beginning to produce a green cloud of Sartious Energy.

  Lysha looked around the other side of the tree. “The cabin is about seventy yards ahead of us,” she said. “We’re going to fight our way there. Keep moving at all times. We need to get inside of the cabin and shut the door behind us to keep out the mookers.”

  “Alright, ready?” Jek asked, his tone cool and collected.

  “Yes,” Cleve and Lysha answered.

  By then, the Sartious cloud around them was too thick to see through. “I’m going to use Bastial wind to blow this cloud ahead of us,” Jek said. “It won’t stretch too far, maybe ten yards. But I’ll try to drag it with us.”

  Lysha grabbed Cleve’s wrist. “Careful swinging that sword around me. It’ll open up my flesh as if I were made of butter.”

  “It won’t touch you,” Cleve said. He realized he was sounding arrogant, but he just meant it as the truth. He knew how to control a weapon.

  “Good.” Lysha nodded. “Go, Jek.”

  Cleve leaned out behind Jek to watch. The mage pushed his wand forward and a windy sound followed. The green cloud flowed forward at about the speed of a jog. The three of them followed behind it.

  On either side of the SE were battles all throughout the encampment. For every man, there were ten mookers. And each time, Cleve saw mookers jumping onto the man’s face and shoulders, taking him down. In a matter of seconds they’d move on to the next.

  They continued forward, and Cleve found someone who’d backed against a tree and found some success simply screaming and thrashing his sword about to keep the little monsters at bay. They edged in and out, looking for a safe way to attack. One jumped at him, only to be hit by the man’s weapon, letting out a shriek and flying through the air like a ball.

  Two more jumped at once. One of them was struck like the first, but the other latched onto the man’s face. He tried to pry off the mooker, only to be taken down by the rest waiting for their opportunity.

  “Can we go any faster?” Lysha asked, her tone somewhat panicked. “This might’ve been a bad idea.”

  “I can’t!” Jek yelled. “And it was definitely a bad idea.” His frantic tone was the exact opposite of what it was before.

  Cleve couldn’t help but realize this was the stupid decision the Takary sisters had been worried Jek and Cleve would make. He found it almost comical that it was Lysha’s choice, though, not theirs…almost comical.

  A mooker jumped onto his leg and opened its mouth to bite Cleve, but he kicked the creature off before it could. Lysha shot it with an arrow before Cleve had a chance to drive his sword into it. Another one jumped at Jek. Cleve saw it coming and slashed his sword downward, slicing the creature in half.

  If a mooker had never been on his shoulder, he would’ve thought they had soft skin given how easy it was to cut the little monster with his Bastial steel sword. But he’d felt one enough to know that their skin was even tougher than his.

  “We should be close,” Lysha said from the front. “Let the cloud fizzle out so we can see.”

  Jek let his wand drop, giving out an exhausted breath. Lysha was right, the cabin was just ahead.

  With immense fury, Lysha pushed on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Cleve!”

  “I got it.” He kicked the door with all his strength.

  It flew open, and the three of them jumped in, shutting the door behind them. The cabin was small enough to see everything the moment Cleve stepped inside.

  “Kasko,” Cleve muttered, taking a step toward the small man.

  “Stop,” Kasko said calmly…too calmly for Cleve’s taste. “Throw down your weapons or she dies.” He had a knife pressing into the throat of a woman who had to be Vala Takary, the Queen of Goldram.

  Her hands and feet were bound with rope. Kasko stood against the wall, holding her in front of him. Vala’s eyes were wide in fear, her mouth twisted and uttering little gasps with each subtle movement Kasko made.

  Beside Vala was a man in his twenties with the same golden brown skin as his mother and the other Takarys.

  Raymess…not moving.

  “Is Raymess alive?” Lysha asked, keeping her bow aimed at Kasko. The Prince was slumped in the corner, cuts covering his face and arms.

  Outside, screams of death were becoming less frequent. It was only a matter of time before the mookers had killed everyone. Cleve still didn’t know if they would force their way into the cabin or not, but he did know he needed to hurry.

  Cleve decided to toss down his sword as Kasko had demanded. Jek threw down his wand next. Lysha kept her bow aimed high, though, even taking a step forward.

  “Don’t test me,” Kasko warned her.

  “Is Raymess alive?” Lysha repeated, this time louder.

  “Yes,” Kasko said. “I know how much I can bleed a man before he dies. Now throw down your bow or I’ll kill Vala Takary.”

  The Queen whimpered.

  Lysha tossed her weapon, taking her Bastial steel knife from her belt and throwing it on the ground as well.

  “Now what?” Cleve asked. He had no idea what Kasko had planned, but whatever it was, it needed to happen soon. The mookers could find them at any moment.

  “Someone is going to die,” Kasko said. “It can either be you, Cleve, or Vala Takary here.”

  “The moment you kill her, you’re dead as well,” Cleve said.

  “I’m fine with that,” Kasko said with startling confidence. “Once the Takarys hear how you let her die instead of yourself, your life will be over anyway. And there’s nothing more I want right now than for you to suffer.”

  Kasko grabbed the whimpering queen by the hair. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Stop struggling or I’ll kill you now.” He pressed the knife into the underside of her chin, and a trickle of blood ran down it. She stiffened, closing her eyes and shedding a tear.

  Kasko let go of her hair to jab his finger at Cleve. “You’
ve ruined everything I’ve been working toward with Jessend. I was going to use her to take power in Waywen and win this war. Capturing Raymess and Vala was done under my command. And now you’re about to ruin that as well!” Kasko screamed. A silence followed that allowed Cleve to hear the grunt-filled dialogue of a group of mookers walking around outside.

  “Keep your voice down,” Lysha urged through a whisper. “Or we’re all dead.”

  “I’ll shut up once you run a knife across Cleve’s neck!” Kasko screamed.

  The mookers outside grew louder. Jek seemed to be using Sartious Energy to do something with the door.

  Lysha moved away from the one window, refusing to look at Cleve. “I will not kill Cleve, and you will not kill Vala or Raymess,” she threatened. “The only way you’re getting out of this alive is if you let her go and we bind your wrists with SE. We’ll take you out of here safely.”

  A smile formed on Kasko’s lips—one that sent a chill down Cleve’s back. “I’d rather be killed here after watching Cleve die than spend my life in the Takary prison. But if that’s not going to happen, I’ll settle for killing Vala. First, Raymess needs to know what’s happening.”

  Kasko kicked the Prince in the side. Raymess groaned but did not wake. Kasko kicked him harder, and the Prince’s face came to life, scrunching with pain. When he found Cleve and the others, his eyes widened.

  “You’re getting out of here,” Kasko told him. “But your mother might die first. It’s up to this man, Cleve Polken.” Kasko pointed at Cleve. “It’s his choice as to who lives and who dies. If he lets Lysha cut open his throat, I’ll let your mother go. But if he doesn’t, then I’ll cut hers open…and with great pleasure. You’ll tell your father what happened here. Understand?”

  Raymess looked back and forth between Cleve and Vala. He tried to mouth words, but only a murmur came out.

  “Louder,” Kasko told him, shoving him with the sole of his boot.

  Raymess tried to stand, only to receive a kick from Kasko.

  “Stay down!”

  Cleve started toward Kasko, but he squeezed his grip harder on Vala. She let out a scream.

  “Get back, fool. Get back! This is your last chance or I will cut her.”

  The mookers were right outside their window now—Cleve could hear them.

  Lysha held out her palms. “Calm yourself, Kasko.”

  Kasko ignored her, switching his focus back to Raymess. “Answer me. Do you understand that if Cleve doesn’t die, he’s allowing your mother to be killed?”

  Raymess licked his parched lips with the very tip of his tongue, as if the effort alone was too much to bear. He nodded at Kasko.

  “Good.” Kasko smiled again, changing his focus to Cleve.

  Jek was at the window now, barring it with Sartious Energy. “Lysha’s not going to do it.” He spoke softly as he worked. “Even if Cleve tells her to.”

  “It’s true,” Lysha said. “No one’s going to go along with this plan. If Vala dies, then it’s purely your fault.”

  Cleve felt even more dread when Kasko’s grin only widened. “You really think Danvell Takary will forgive you three when he hears what happened? Think about it. Bastial hell, you’re idiots if you don’t realize all of your lives are over if you allow me to kill Vala instead of Cleve.”

  Cleve glanced at Lysha, finding a disquieting lack of confidence in her eyes as she stared at Kasko. Next he turned to Jek. The mage had finished with the window, his glance now fallen to the ground. Neither of them would look at Cleve.

  Is this what my life has come to? He tried to find some solace in the idea that Kasko would be killed shortly after he was, but it didn’t make his despair any more bearable.

  “Lysha,” Cleve said, waiting for her to look at him before continuing. He put his hand on her shoulder. “He’s right. There will be no life after this for the three of us if I don’t agree to his terms.”

  Cleve slowly started toward the knife she’d thrown down. Keeping his gaze on Kasko, he said, “I’m going to pick up this weapon and give it to her.”

  “Keep moving slowly or I kill Vala.”

  “Cleve, don’t do this.” Jek’s tone was pleading. “This is a stupid decision, and there’s no way for me to support it. We told each other we wouldn’t do something like this without support from each other.”

  “I’m sorry, Jek. And tell Jessend I’m sorry as well.”

  Cleve handed the knife to Lysha, but she wouldn’t take it. He stepped closer to her, leaning in to whisper, “Take it by the blade and hold it steady.”

  She did.

  Keeping his voice low so no one else could hear, he said, “When I say ‘go,’ use psyche to tell Vala to get out of the way as best she can.”

  Lysha’s eyes opened wider. Her neck stiffened with a nod. Cleve stepped back and lifted his chin, exposing his neck.

  “Do it!” Kasko screamed.

  Again, the mookers’ dialogue started up. There was even some tapping on the walls.

  “Go,” Cleve told Lysha.

  She shot her palm forward at Vala behind him. Meanwhile, Cleve grabbed the knife by the handle, spun around, and threw it where he remembered Kasko to be.

  It all happened in a blink—Vala fell to her knees, Kasko lunged downward after her, and Cleve’s Bastial steel knife struck the small man in the shoulder.

  It caused Kasko to stop for a heartbeat, staggering back with a scream. Jek let loose a fireball. It was small, the size of a fist. But it did strike Kasko in the chest.

  Vala was on her hands and knees shrieking, crawling away as quickly as possible. Kasko was yelling as well, scrabbling forward after her, nearly tripping in his dazed state. Though, he was on target, his knife held in the air.

  Cleve jumped forward, grabbed his sword off the ground, and sliced off Kasko’s head in one smooth motion.

  It only caused Vala’s shrieking to grow louder, mixed now with manic crying.

  Raymess was unconscious again. Vala crawled over to hold his head in her hands for a breath, then maneuvered herself around his back to rest him upright against her.

  The mookers outside seemed to have figured out there were Humans in the cabin. They were shouting and pounding on the walls. One broke the window and was trying to smash its way through Jek’s Sartious barrier of two crossed planks. Another jumped up to join it.

  Lysha loosed an arrow and hit one in the shoulder. It fell back with a shout. The other one snarled and jumped off before she could shoot it.

  Pounding picked up at the door. Cleve saw that Jek had filled the gap between the door and its frame with Sartious Energy, but green flakes were flying from it as the shaking became more violent. Jek pointed his wand to repair the unending damage.

  Cleve’s attention shot to the ceiling as the scraping of claws threatened to break through the wood above them.

  Vala Takary was helping Raymess up. Cleve ran over to help, throwing the Prince’s arm over his shoulder and using one arm to hold on to him while the other held his sword firm and ready for any mookers that broke through.

  “Will the we are peaceful dance work?” Cleve asked.

  “Not at this point,” Lysha answered, keeping her bow aimed at the window. Two more mookers jumped up, grabbing onto the Sartious bars and trying to pry them off. Lysha let down her bow and ran to them with her dagger out, jabbing each one in the finger to make them let go and drop. Three more jumped up in their place.

  “Jek!” Lysha shouted as she swiped at them with her Bastial dagger.

  He waved his wand to repair the bars that were barely managing to keep the mookers from coming in through the window.

  “We’d better come up with something soon,” Jek said through heavy breaths. “I can’t keep this up too much longer.”

  “We can’t fight through hundreds of mookers.” Lysha’s tone was urgent, desperate. Cleary, she had no ideas. Hearing her made Cleve’s mind work twice as fast. If she wasn’t going to figure something out, then he would.


  “I’m faster than they are, just barely,” he said. “Make an opening in the roof with your strongest fireball, Jek. I’ll pull myself through and distract them.”

  “Now that is the stupid decision we were talking about!” Jek yelled.

  “You can’t run from mookers,” Lysha added. “They’re everywhere. They’ll close off every route.”

  “Jek, just do it before we all die!” Cleve screamed.

  “Do it,” Vala said. “Let him distract them.”

  Cleve went to the corner to drag one of two chairs over to the center of the small cabin.

  “Fine!” Jek’s tone was exasperated, his anger startling Cleve. “But I’m telling Jessend that I tried to stop you.”

  “Hurry up.” Cleve was in no mood. “It sounds like some are already on the roof,” he added. “So they might come in after you make an opening, but I need time to pull myself out, so I can’t stay to help. Otherwise, more will—”

  Lysha interrupted him. “We know, Cleve!” she said, now just as angered as Jek. “We can take care of the mookers that come in on your way out. Don’t stick around to fight them—Bastial stars, this is stupid.”

  “Ready?” Jek asked, his wand pointed at the thin wooden ceiling above Cleve.

  Taking a breath, Cleve nodded.

  There was a flash of light and then the sound of wood cracking. Something fell—two of them. Mookers.

  Lysha kicked one and stabbed the other. That’s all Cleve could see before he jumped up from the chair, using his forearms to propel himself onto the roof in one fluid motion.

  He drew his Bastial steel sword and gave a quick look to each direction. There were no other mookers on the roof…at least not yet. Many were jumping on top of each other, scrambling up the sides of the wall for a look.

  One of them grabbed hold of the edge and poked its snarling face over. Cleve kicked it and jumped after, soaring behind its body that squeaked and tumbled into the smallest patch of mookers he’d found so far—maybe five of them within clawing range.

  In the moment he needed to regain his footing from the landing, he swiped his sword at them to create enough distance. They jumped back, teeth bared, and then Cleve was off.