Kings of Ghumai- The Complete series Box Set

by D N Meinster

  Jient immediately put his hand in Neanthal's.

  "You, too."

  Staut reached out, and once his hand touched the King's, they disappeared from the rooftop and reappeared in one of the manufacturing zones.

  The air was filled with the sounds of chains clinking and hammers pounding. Sparks flew from the working tables, and the furnace glowed a hot orange. Sweat coated the skin of the scientists as they worked in the unbearable heat. And roaming between the lines of chained up Bellish were the plated, though the occasional demibeast did pass through.

  "Bring me the latest," Neanthal ordered Staut, who promptly got on his feet and headed to one of the tables.

  "My liege," Peransic announced himself, sidling up to Neanthal.

  "How many have you killed today?" Neanthal asked his most loyal lieutenant.

  The transparent gray entity pulled the sickle from his leg. "Just one. Would you like me to eliminate more?"

  "That depends on what Staut brings me."

  Peransic eyed the Bellish leader. "I have hardly let them sleep in recent decks. If it is not successful today, it never will be."

  Neanthal shuddered beneath his leather coat. If the weapon did not work, then his entire stay in this realm would've been for naught. Magenine had created her prison adjacent to this world, and he'd conquered it to prove a point to Her. But he'd also intended to get back to where he belonged. Ghumai was supposed to be a stepping stone, with the Bellish providing the final step. If they failed him, then all his days here would've been meaningless.

  Glancing at the sky, he thought of all the worlds beyond this one. Should Ghumai prove unsuitable to his ultimate goal, he'd leave and find another. The space between the stars was nothing to a god. The only place that he couldn't get to was the one She had barred him from: the Bastion.

  He couldn't simply show up back in Her realm. No, he had to fight his way to get in. His army and their arsenal had proven inadequate against Magenine's forces. He needed something new.

  Staut approached Neanthal with a lengthy silver pipe in his hands. He held it out and waited for the King to take it.

  Neanthal lifted the pipe from Staut's hands and studied its construction. On one end, the pipe was open so he could peek inside it. On the other, there was a perpendicular bar the sealed it, giving it the appearance of a T. Neanthal grimaced as the shape had become synonymous with rebellion.

  Nevertheless, he let curiosity dispel his anger. "How does it work?"

  Staut tapped on the top half of the perpendicular bar. "Projectiles go in here." He tapped on the bottom portion. "Prop powder goes in here."

  Peransic sneered at it. "But does it work?"

  "Pull back the handle and find out," Staut responded.

  Neanthal gently rested the long pipe on his palm and gripped the short bar in the other hand. He hesitated following Staut's instructions, as the odds this was going to backfire on him seemed rather high. These humans couldn't permanently maim him without magic, but maybe they'd realized that since their last attempt. Had one of Magenine's peons snuck in here and enchanted this weapon? He didn't sense anything, but if Amelia herself had done it, he might not be able to.

  He tightened his fingers up as they began to convulse, and he glanced at the men surrounding him. Peransic looked skeptically at him, while Jient's expression was blank. Staut's eyes revealed nothing, and no other Bellish was even paying him attention.

  "Okay, then." Neanthal twisted his body so the open half of the pipe was pointed at Staut. Before the Project Head could react, Neanthal pulled back on the short bar.

  There was a muffled explosion from within the pipe before the round projectile launched from the device and embedded itself in Staut's chest. His pastel blue cloak grew darker around the newly formed hole. As blood drenched the material, it began to spout from the fresh wound. Staut gurgled and spat out the red liquid before he collapsed to the ground.

  Neanthal's burning eyes reflected his pleasure. The weapon worked, and the irritating Bellish was on his way to the Bastion.

  But the rest of the Bellish in the vicinity had stopped working. The indignation in their gazes was evident, but there was little they could do while they were chained up. At least, Neanthal had assumed that.

  Several of the workers poured prop powder on their chains and lit them up. Following multiple explosions, the links broke apart and the Bellish were freed from their bonds. Some dashed from the area, seeking freedom from the Massku and their leader. Others took up arms, aiming their new weapons at the plated and firing the projectiles. But their armor proved too thick for the round pellets, which either bounced off or flattened against the black metal.

  Neanthal observed the rebellion-in-progress with amusement. Didn't they realize how foolish it was to try this when he was there? He'd have thought the smartest men in Ghumai would know better.

  The Bellish managed to kill one Massku after pouring prop powder on a plated being and setting fire to him. That was the only loss Neanthal would tolerate.

  He dropped the new weapon and stretched out both arms in the direction of his enemies. They lost their cohesion, becoming black clouds, and they slithered and slunk away from their master until they reached the Bellish. The dark vapor wrapped around each of the scientists that it came across and bound them from any further action. Once Neanthal had them all in his vice, they rose into the air, helplessly dangling from his outstretched and warped limbs.

  "I would have expected more intelligent action from the lot of you," Neanthal growled in his gravelly voice. "Every single one of you should die for this act of insolence. But your weapon works, and I need you to make more of them. So only half of you will die."

  Half of the helpless Bellish had their necks snapped in an instant by the black cloud. The rest were returned to the ground, where they remained dazed by their losses.

  Neanthal's arm retook their shape, and he lifted the weapon from his feet. "You're project head, now," he said, looking at Peransic. "If any one of them gives you problems, kill them."

  Peransic bowed as he said, "Of course."

  Neanthal firmly gripped the weapon again before summoning a plated into his presence. "There's one more thing I have to test."

  As he held the pipe, it began to glow as if it were fresh from the furnace. He imbued the weapon with his power, and then took aim at the plated in from of him. He pulled back the short bar and let loose one of the enchanted projectiles. As soon as it made contact with the plated, the being burst into dust.

  Neanthal let out a wondrous laugh. It was perfect. Not only would this weapon benefit him in Ghumai, but he could make it so Magenine would fall to its power as well. The Bellish had done marvelous work. It was a shame he'd had to kill so many of them.

  Chapter Eight

  Remnants of Roamers

  "M'dalla!" Aros shouted in jubilation.

  "Shh," she replied. "You don't want them to come back, do you?"

  "I don't think they're coming back," Slythe stated, eyeing the piles of stone limbs in the vicinity.

  "Unnecessary bloodshed," Loraya mumbled, intentionally glancing away from Rikki.

  "I don't see any blood," Rikki retorted. She, along with Aros' and Doren's armor, was the only source of light in the narrow pass.

  This time, Loraya stared at her. "These lives could've been spared if you'd listened."

  Aros tugged at one of his spikes as he saw Rikki clench her fist tighter on her staff. There could be more bloodshed if the discussion continued in an argumentative direction. He wasn't sure he could say anything to end it, so he decided to do something.

  Aros shuffled between Rikki and Loraya and wrapped his arms around M'dalla.

  The Roamer was clearly surprised and raised her hands in disbelief before she laid one down on her friend.

  "I thought you might be dead," Aros said before letting go of her.

  There were fresh scars atop M'dalla's head from where she had been burned in Belliore. She'd even shaved the res
t of her hair off to even it out from the damage, so she was completely bald. "You really think we're friends, don't you?" she said before flashing him a warm smile.

  "Weren't you coming to save us?" Aros asked, returning the grin.

  Loraya hurried to Aros' side. "So, you're the Roamers?" She looked unimpressed as she glared at M'dalla's yellow cloak.

  "We're what's left," Slythe spoke up.

  "Did a stone spider get the others?" Doren inquired.

  "Worse," M'dalla sighed, and she glanced at Slythe.

  Aros had never even been particularly distressed by spiders, but now he was certain he would be for the rest of his life. Too many creatures he encountered were likely to haunt him thereafter. "What's worse than those things?"

  "Kahar," Loraya answered

  Slythe's nod was difficult to perceive in the low light.

  Aros had been to three other kingdoms already, and he'd never heard a leader spoken of like this Mahan Kahar. He remembered being surprised by the ill will toward King Halstrom in Kytheras, and the feuding brothers in Faunli had not engendered many warm feelings. But none was so despised as this Kahar. It made Aros wonder how anyone could follow him to begin with.

  But then, Neanthal was hated and still many became Thalians in his wake. What did these vile beings have that so many found themselves attracted to? Surely their lust for power was evident enough to see right through. Or is that what their followers hoped? That they'd share that power once they had gotten hold of it?

  If Aros and his friend were successful, they'd never have to meet Neanthal. However, it seemed that to avoid that meeting, they'd have to confront this Kahar in the near future. He did not look forward to it.

  "You know what happened to Yuurei," M'dalla spoke softly.

  "The MR," Aros stated.

  "The what?" Loraya asked him.

  "A Bellish plague," Aros replied.

  "Oh," Loraya said without any more comment.

  "Zeniri is on the Twilight Islands," Slythe went on. "We haven't heard from him in days, but we're not so worried."

  Aros wasn't sure who Zeniri was, but he kept that to himself.

  "It's Azzer that concerns us," M'dalla relayed to them.

  "He's our mage," Slythe said, "and the reason Kahar went after us."

  "This king has it in for the magic wielders," M'dalla interrupted.

  "We fought them off best we could, but Kahar has his own mages. There were only three of us, and Kahar had the numbers," Slythe regretfully acknowledged.

  "You should've asked for our help," Loraya told him.

  "And who are you?" M'dalla asked.

  "Loraya Lette, of the Revolutionaries," she answered.

  "You Revolutionaries abandoned these mountains at the first sign of Kahar's forces," Slythe recalled. "You left us. We refused to go."

  "You're the reason Kahar targeted the mountains!" Loraya spat. "We could've worked together."

  "We have different priorities," M'dalla replied.

  "Yeah, our priorities," Doren snapped.

  Aros tapped on one of the Keys hanging from his waist. Their light jingle only caught M'dalla's attention.

  "Why only two?" she asked.

  Rikki hung her head before supplying an answer. "Hatswick got one."

  The night could not disguise the fear in Slythe's eyes. "You are the ones that should've asked for help."

  "You tried to fight us for them!" Doren replied, offended by the comment.

  "In Faunli and Belliore," Aros added. M'dalla had been the only Roamer to offer aid rather than combat.

  "We should've fought harder," Slythe responded. "Then Hatswick would have zero."

  Doren curled his fist up, but Loraya placed a hand on his shoulder to try and prevent a brawl.

  "Aros has two Keys," Loraya noted. "How many do you have?"

  Slythe grimaced while M'dalla let out a guffaw. "She's got you there."

  Aros grinned at Loraya, an expression she hastily returned.

  "We don't have a choice, now," Rikki said, getting over her momentary shame. "We have to work with each other."

  "Because you failed," Slythe grumbled.

  There wasn't time for Loraya to prevent Doren's next punch. His fist collided into Slythe's cheek.

  The head of the Roamers would have fallen if M'dalla didn't use her arms to keep him propped up.

  When Slythe regained his composure, swords with hilts twice as long as their narrow blades fell from his sleeves into his hands. As he readied to strike, Doren took hold of his shield.

  Aros withdrew his clawblades in an instant, while M'dalla took her damaged flail into her grip.

  All four of them stood in an attack position, but none was ready to make the first move. They twirled and swayed their weapons, scrutinizing each other to see who might dare to strike.

  Aros didn't like being on the opposite side of M'dalla, and he promised himself he wouldn't swing at her even when the battle commenced. He'd only taken his blades out to back up Doren, not to harm a friend.

  "Y'all aren't dead," Yayne jubilantly exclaimed as he wandered into the middle of their pack. His girth easily prevented either side from being able to land a hit. And with that, the tension between them was broken.

  Kyer embraced his sister as he made it back to her. "Thought you were right behind us."

  "We'd be dead if it wasn't for her," Loraya said, pointing at Rikki.

  "Thank you, Rikki," Kyer said.

  "Who are these two?" Yayne asked, finally noticing the Roamers.

  Slythe and M'dalla put their weapons away as they introduced themselves.

  "Well, what do you know,” Yayne stated. "We don't have to go any further into these mountains."

  Aros and Doren returned their weapons to the magnetized backs of their armor.

  "What now?" Kyer asked. "Are y'all coming back with us?"

  "Back where?" Slythe inquired.

  Both Kyer and Yayne looked over their shoulder to see if any of Kahar's spies might be listening. But the pass was too dark to spot any eavesdroppers even if they were there.

  "The forest," Loraya answered without any hesitation.

  M'dalla and Slythe eyed each other. "This is where we..."

  "Where you what?" Doren responded with a sneer.

  The question reminded Aros what he was owed. He'd been so excited to find M'dalla he nearly forgot one of the reasons he wanted to find her. "If we're going to work together, I think you need to answer our questions."

  "We haven't agreed to join with you yet," Slythe replied, and he caressed the fresh bruise on his face.

  "Well you better, ‘cause we didn't journey out here for nothing," Yayne growled.

  "If I gave you answers, you couldn't handle it," Slythe pointed at Aros. "And neither could you or you or you or you." He pointed at everyone except Rikki.

  "What is there to hide?" Kyer asked.

  Aros had wondered the same thing. M'dalla had been reluctant to tell him anything in Belliore and wanted to consult with Slythe before revealing any details about their past. But Slythe seemed to want to keep their history secret. Why? Unless they were Thalians, it didn't make sense.

  "How about this?" Slythe started. "We will help you, but you stop asking us questions."

  "This one's not gonna follow that rule," M'dalla said, indicating Aros.

  "Come on!" Aros said.

  "We accept," Rikki said, speaking for all of them. She turned to her friends. "You're going to need them."

  "What's that mean?" Doren said, his foul demeanor overtaken by concern.

  Rikki grabbed both of Doren's hands. "I can't stay with you."

  Aros thought for a second she was breaking up with him. And they'd just gotten together. But then she glanced at Aros, too, and he understood. She was leaving all of them.

  "No," Doren pleaded, wrapping his arms around her like that'd stop her from going.

  Rikki whispered something in his ear and then pushed him away. "I will not let my mages suffer
at the hands of this Kahar. I'm the Grand Mage of Kytheras. They are my responsibility."

  "In Kytheras, not Ghumai!" Doren shot back.

  "Kytheras is Ghumai," Slythe state absentmindedly.

  "I'm going to save them." Rikki looked to the Roamers. "I'm going to save Azzer."

  "Thank you," Slythe muttered.

  "No, no, no," Doren repeated.

  But Rikki was getting ready to depart. She held out Ji-Ji to her boyfriend. "Please look after him."

  The request further infuriated Doren. "That's a person! He can look after himself!"

  "Dorenculous!" Rikki cried out.

  Doren walked away from her before circling back. "You can go back for them once we have the Keys. By then, we could all go with you."

  "And let them all suffer in the meantime?" she replied. "I can't."

  The rest of the group looked on in flabbergasted silence as Rikki and Doren continued to have it out.

  "We didn't have a choice when we got separated in Faunli," Doren remembered.

  "That's why I'm doing this!" Rikki replied. "I'm choosing to help them."

  "Over stopping Neanthal?"

  "Can none of you handle it without me?"

  Doren didn't give anyone a chance to respond. "I can't!"

  Before Doren could scream anything else at her, Rikki planted a kiss on his lips. She held herself there while everyone awkwardly watched.

  "Kwee!" the purple fuzzball on Aros' waist exclaimed.

  Aros stroked the top of Mr. Kwee's head with his finger as his friends' kiss continued. He didn't like the thought of losing Rikki any more than Doren did. But they had M'dalla now. And Loraya. And the rest of the Roamers and Revolutionaries. All of that combined could be enough to make up for a missing mage.

  As Rikki finally pulled away from Doren, she dropped Ji-Ji into his arms. "Don't lose him."

  Rikki came up to Aros next. She tugged at her necklace until it came off and then held it out for him. "If I don't come back within a deck, find me and give this back." She dropped the decorated channeling crystal into his palm.

  Aros immediately put the necklace on, and it hung adjacent to the golden M on his neck. "You'll be back."

  Rikki smiled at him and then looked to Loraya. "Take care of him."

  Aros didn't understand why she was asking Loraya to do that.