“Dream? You must have been mistaken. This is your nightmare.”
Chapter Thirty Nine
Talon hurried to the southwest, weaving her way through the forest, careful not to jostle the babies. She wanted to get to the Wide River, and the small farm on its shore that Mellinda had prepared, as quickly as possible.
It wasn’t the babies’ fault. Caring for the babies wasn’t as hard as Talon had feared. The blue eye kept them calm. The blankets protected their soft skin from her claws. And she could kiss their tiny faces and smell Ewwie on them without cutting them with her teeth. Feeding them was tiresome and changing their filthy rags a chore, but she didn’t mind.
The reason she ran was the battle. The mistress would be fighting soon. She had shown Talon. The Mage School and academy people had entered her home. Her brother was there and his wizard. And many other foes. All the foes the mistress feared the most were there.
“Don’t fear, Talon,” Mellinda cooed. “I will destroy them. The closer they get, the more I have them where I want. I will kill them all. All my enemies in one attack.”
That’s what the mistress thought. Talon kept her worries quiet, but she knew. She was sure of what would happen if the mistress lost. If her enemies defeated her, the mistress would escape into the blue eye. The mistress would become Talon and Talon would be shoved into the quiet place forever, kept there unless the mistress found a new host for the blue eye. But if Talon could find the farm, maybe she could find someone Mellinda would rather be. A beautiful farm girl, perhaps.
“Don’t be silly, Talon,” Mellinda purred. Talon saw her pick up the old wizard. She saw Mellinda squeeze him, saw her bugs sting him. “They are mine. See? They-.”
Talon froze. “Misstress?” There was no answer.
The babies began to cry.
She spun around. What had happened? Where did the mistress go? A smile parted her lips. Did she dare believe? Was the mistress gone for good? Destroyed? Talon laughed along with the babies’ sweet cries.
“Hello, Talon,” said a voice behind her.
She spun again and saw a man sitting on a rock. He wore brown clothes and a traveler’s robe, and had brown hair and a fuzzy face; a blurry face. He hadn’t been there before. Where had he come from?
Behind him stood a great beast with a large face. The front end of it was that of an enormous gorilla with dark gray fur, while the back end was like a mountain cat. Yet it wore a saddle and smelled much more like a horse than either of those animals.
Then there was what the man had said. He had called her by name. How did the man know her name? “Did the misstress ssend you?” she asked.
“Your mistress?” he folded his arms. “Mellinda?”
She nodded hesitantly.
“Most definitely not,” the man said with a chuckle. He stood and walked towards her. “Do you love your mistress?”
Talon didn’t know how to respond. Her heart beat quickly in her chest. This man was an enemy! This man was a foe of the mistress! She had to leave! She had to leave or she would be punished!
“You will not run,” the man said and he was right. Talon couldn’t run. She could only stand. He bent over and peered into the basket she held in her right hand. “Shh,” he said and the babies quieted. “Sweet little things, aren’t they?”
“Yess,” Talon said. No, this wasn’t good. The man would take them! “Go away or I will . . .” What would Ewwie have her say? “I will killss you.”
“No you won’t,” the man said, still smiling at the babies.
He was right. She wouldn’t. She didn’t know why but she couldn’t. She couldn’t will her tail to strike the man. “I will eatss the babiess. I will kills them!”
“No you will not,” he said and this time his voice was a bit firmer. But he did not look up at her. He reached down into the basket and picked up the blue eye from between them. He rolled it in his fingers, a frown darkening his blurry face. “What a truly horrible thing to give a child.”
He looked at Talon now and his eyes were kind. Why were they kind? She blinked. “Who are you?”
“I am the prophet,” he said, still gazing into her eyes. “But you may call me John.”
“The prophet?” What did that mean? He was not the Dark Prophet. Of that she was fairly sure. He was not Ewwie’s master. Ewwie’s master would not be like this man.
“Would you like me to destroy this?” the man asked.
“Y-you destroyss it?” Talon asked.
“If you wish,” he replied.
She licked her lips. If that blue eye was gone, then the only one left would be the one in her. The mistress would always live in her. Still, for some reason, she said, “Yess.”
“Very well,” the prophet said.
He held out the blue eye and it quivered and shook. A little grasping claw sprung from the side. He grasped it in his other hand and tore it out. Then the eye began to change color. It was no longer dark blue, but light blue, then lighter still until it was a bright white and held a soft glow.
“There then,” he said and placed the item within his robe. “I will be taking the children now.” He reached out and though she didn’t understand why, she handed him the basket and the black bag. He nodded at her and took them over to the beast. He lifted the basket and the beast sniffed them with its wide nostrils and smiled, showing a huge mouth full of yellowed teeth and making a huffing noise that sounded something like laughter. The man laughed. “Babies do smell delightful, don’t they, Rufus?”
Talon realized that the man was going to leave. He would leave her and the mistress would return and she would be angry. “Wait! John! The prophetss!”
He turned his kind eyes back on her. “Yes, Talon?”
She walked up to him hesitantly. “Will you . . . kill me? Please?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You wish to die?”
“Yess. I . . .” her jaw quivered. “I am . . . broken.”
“I’m sorry, Talon,” he said and his eyes really did look sad. “I am not the one who is to kill you.”
She looked down. There was no hope then. Just endless nothingness.
“Would you like me to remove the eye from within you?” he asked.
She shuddered, and looked up at him. Did he mean it? Tears welled up in her eyes. “Yess! Please!”
He smiled. “Very well.” He moved closer and placed his palm just under her ribcage. “Hmm. She did make this hard to get to, didn’t she?”
He closed his eyes and flattened out his hand, then pushed his fingers inside of her. Talon felt his fingertips push through her skin and muscle. It did not hurt, but he pushed through her inside parts and she felt a tingling as he clenched something within her. When he withdrew his hand, he held the blue eye. His fingers were not bloody and he did not leave a wound in her flesh.
“Would you like me to destroy this eye?” he asked.
“Yess!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. And in a moment, this eye was as white as the other one. He placed it in his pocket and turned to leave again.
“John!”
“Yes, Talon?” he asked, smiling kindly at her again.
“I-I . . .” She feared to speak it. Part of her adored this man now. Yet inside of her was another part that wanted to kill him. That part was being held in check at the moment, but it was snarling in the darkness within her. It wanted to rend his flesh, to tear him, to string his inside parts around the clearing.
“Can you . . . fix me?”
“Is that what you wish?” He asked and his face seemed to glow.
“Pleasse.”
He reached out and placed his hands on her head and the dark part inside her screamed. Now! Now was the time. He was vulnerable. He would not stop her. Rend him! Tear him! Eat him!
Then a warm glow spread over her body and the dark part shrunk back. This was a new feeling for her. It was a new sensation and was very interesting. It felt good. Far better than pain. Far more than pleasure. This feeling was differ
ent.
Then he let go and the feeling faded. The darkness inside her growled and screamed, but it was weak.
“It is not for me to fix you, Talon,” said the kind man. “But perhaps that will make it easier.”
“Pleasse!” Talon said. Ewwie would have had her caress him, grasp him as she begged. But not this man. She fell to her knees at his feet. “Pleasse, John, try again!”
“Talon, do you know what it is to be good?” he asked.
She blinked. “Good?”
He sighed and his smile turned sad. “If you want to be fixed, go east, the direction the sun rises. Travel through the forest. I believe you have a friend there. Take her and continue east. Go over the mountains.”
“Friend?” She thought on his instructions. How could she go? She wasn’t allowed. If she left . . . there was no more Ewwie and the mistress could not touch her now. She smiled. She could go east and she could get fixed because she was free!
“Another thing, Talon,” John said. He held out the two white eyes. They glowed softly. “Take these. You may need them.”
Mellinda froze. She held Latva in her fist, high in the air, surrounded by stinging bugs. But she looked like the one who had been wounded.
“You see? We’re not the ones who are too late, Mellinda. You are.” said Latva his voice pained, yet full of satisfaction. Alfred shouted his name and ran to the base of the witch’s form, slashing repeatedly with his sword, but there was no effect.
Latva smiled through the pain. “You gathered all your moonrats around us, didn’t you? You wanted them all to see.” He turned his head to look down at the others. “Remember the orange eyes! Don’t let them-!”
“Enough!” Mellinda roared. The wizard disappeared into her hand. Moonrats poured in from the forest all around, snarling and biting. “What did you do?” she demanded, glaring down at them. “What have you done!”
“Her real body’s under the tree!” Wizard Nikoli shouted. He shoved his way past the warriors and reached his earth magic into the ground. He strained. The great tree shuddered. Its roots began to pull up from the ground.
“No!” Mellinda cried and slammed her black hand down over him. When she lifted it again, he was gone, disappeared inside her black form.
The warriors and wizards fought in the clearing, slaying moonrats as quick as they could, but the sheer numbers were overwhelming. Fist knocked them aside with great swings of his mace and electrified his body, frying any moonrat that reached him. Gwyrtha in her armored form tore into them, biting and slashing, while Charz stomped them and smashed them and tore them apart, immune to any kind of damage they could inflict.
Modified trolls screeched as they ran into the clearing, but they were weakened by the pepper and few in number. Willum blasted one into pieces with his axe and Lyramoor lopped the head off another. Kathy the Plate tore one in half with a swing of her axe and Lenny caved in its skull.
Tolivar and Faldon fought side-by-side as they had in days gone by, leaving quivering pieces of moonrats in their wake. Samson ran around the outside of their circle, trampling and spearing them. Swen stood in the center of the circle, each of his arrows piercing a skull, while Darlan hurled fireballs into Mellinda’s form, knocking her back and trying to keep her from grabbing any more of them.
Despite their efforts, black sludge crept back into the clearing, flowing steadily over the dirt. Wherever the sludge was, Mellinda was in control. It rose up, forming grasping hands, and her form rose above it all. She swung her arms, knocking people down and at times, swallowing them whole.
Justan fought, the world slowed down in his eyes. He slashed about him with his swords, slicing and blasting the moonrats away.
Where are they? Deathclaw sent as he speared a moonrat through the eye with his tail barb. Where are the orange eyes?
Justan blasted aside a group of moonrats, blowing them to pieces, and glanced around. Deathclaw was right. All the moonrats they fought had green eyes interspersed with a few yellow ones. Latva had thought the orange eyes important. Why had they disappeared? Was Mellinda protecting them?
He ran to Beth. The witch was standing in the center of a circular area about ten feet in diameter that was free from black sludge. Her eyes were closed and she was grimacing.
“Beth, where are the orange eyed moonrats?”
She flinched. “I don’t know. Scattered. They’re running away.”
“Stop them! Cut her off.” Justan said.
“I’ve been trying but she is too strong here,” Beth said. “I can barely slow them down!”
“Fight her!” Hilt said.
“I’m going to collapse any minute!” Beth shouted.
“She needs . . . Fist!” Hilt shouted. “Fist come here!”
The ogre slammed out with his shield, shocking moonrats and knocking them aside. He ran over to them.
“Hold Beth,” Hilt said. He slashed out and a blade of air sliced through three moonrats at once. “Hold her to your chest!”
“But why?” Fist said.
“Just do it!” Justan said. Mellinda reached a great black arm towards him and Justan swung out with Rage, blasting it and all the insects within to pieces.
Fist grabbed Beth and pulled her in against him. Beth struggled for a moment, then she sighed and suddenly it seemed as if the air thickened around them. The sludge flooded back. Moonrats fell, jittering on the ground and Mellinda screamed.
Fist staggered and Justan felt the ogre’s energy fade. Desperately, he pulled energy from Gwyrtha and fed it into him, but Beth was pulling it in as fast as he could draw it. Justan ripped at the magic blocking the Scralag, yanking at the threads until finally he tore it free.
Come out, Artemus! Come out and fight! Coldness leeched through the bond, but there was no reply. Why was there no reply? He needed him now! He blasted out with Rage again and thought back to what Artemus had said when they spoke. Suddenly he understood. The Scralag wasn’t going to attack for him.
The warriors kept hacking away at the flailing moonrats, but more tumbled into the clearing. Mellinda slowly reached for them.
Beth cried out. “She’s too strong!”
“Mother!” Justan said. He grasped Darlan’s shoulder. She shot fireball after fireball into Mellinda’s figure, knocking it back. “Mother. We need you here!”
A fireball went awry, blasting to the side as he dragged her over to stand by Beth. She turned at him, her face enraged. “Are you crazy! I could have fried you!”
“I need you to fry everything!” he said emphatically. Beth’s sphere of influence was shrinking again. The warriors backed in, tightening the circle.
“What?” she demanded.
“Do your huge spell. The one you’re famous for. The Sherl spell!” The moonrats were getting to their feet now, sluggishly, and Mellinda was leaning forward again. “You have to do it. The orange-eyed moonrats are getting away. It’s the only way we’ll reach them all.”
“But I’ll kill everyone,” she gasped.
“No. No you won’t. I will protect them. You must trust me,” he said. “How big can you make the spell?”
“I-I don’t know. I’ve never put all my energy into it,” she said.
“Make it as big as you can. Destroy the whole dark forest if possible!” he said. “Just kill all the orange eyes!”
“But-!” The moonrats began streaming from the trees again. Mellinda picked up Stout Harley. Jhonate charged into the blackness after him, but Justan could do nothing to help her. He had to trust on the ring to protect her. He looked to his mother.
“We’ll live! Do it! Otherwise she’ll get away!”
She grit her teeth and began to gather her energy.
Justan reached back through the bond, reaching his thoughts into the Scralag’s place. This had to be what the book meant; what Artemus meant. It had to be! Artemus! Protect us. Please! Protect my friends from the fire. Artemus save us!
“It’s gettin’ friggin’ hairy here!” Lenny shouted.
>
Mellinda’s sludge rose up like a wave, swallowing Faldon and the dwarf. Gwyrtha jumped in after them.
“Faldon!” Darlan shouted.
“Do it, mother!” Ice flowed from Justan’s chest. Black talons burst free from his chest, followed by a white arm . . .
Darlan screamed.
Flames erupted in a circle from where she stood, filling the clearing in half a second. It flowed past the enormous tree with a deafening roar, shooting through the dank and damp places, consuming huge hornets’ nests and hives of biting ants, incinerating pits of venomous snakes as it went. It surged outward, covering the trail Latva had made, and blasting across the road into the forest beyond. The inferno’s intensity rose and molten rock bubbled up from the earth.
The creatures within the radius of the spell disappeared with little more than a sizzle to designate their passing. The black sludge bubbled to ash. Trees burned away in seconds. Not a single orange-eyed moonrat escaped.
Darlan stood alone in a molten sea and sobbed as the last of her magic faded. The ground began to cool to black and she fell to her knees. “Justan!”
There was no trace of anyone.
“You promised!” she cried. “You promised . . .”
She felt a chill and turned. There had been nothing behind her a moment ago, but now there stood a tall white figure. It had a mouth full of razor teeth and its claw-tipped arms stretched nearly to the ground. It reached out and touched her shoulder and she heard it speak in a hissing whisper, “Graandaauughterr.”
It raised its hand and a wave of frost radiated outward from it, rolling across the fiery landscape. The flames went out. The ground cooled and the rock settled. A wind flowed across the baked landscape, blowing the ash away and Darlan saw domes of ice scattered all about her, bulging up from the blackened ground.
“Thank you,” she said, turning back to look at it, but the creature was gone.
The icy domes cracked. Then one-by-one, they burst apart. People stirred in the space beneath, then stood and looked around them in awe.
“That was cold . . . holy hell,” Charz said his eyes wide as he looked at the destruction around them. “I believe that would have killed me.”
The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat Page 47