Fogle had thought they were dead the moment they stepped inside the hut. Things couldn’t have been more contrary. Their bonds were cut and they were set down on high stools before the Chieftain, who stood, taller than all the others. With a wave of his hands, he’d cleared the room and said, “Welcome, Boon.”
“Yes,” Boon said, nodding, “there are many, many indeed, Tarcot. Beyond what I have seen before. You?”
Tarcot twinkled his fingers in the air. His speech was long and odd. “They move, a great black centipede of death. Destroyers. Reavers. Armored like men from within the high walls. They feed Bish much blood. Innocent blood.”
Fogle rubbed his wrists, eyeing the lone strider that stood like a statue before them. How does he speak? He has no tongue. No lips. Bugs cannot talk. He let out a little cough. The hut was filled with mist that spilled out of strange colorful urns that were scattered throughout the room. The mist felt like flower petals and the scent was uneasy, much unlike what he’d smelled before he entered.
“Any ideas, Tarcot? Your existence is vastly longer than mine,” Boon said.
Tarcot let out a long, low chuckle. “You want a fight, don’t you, Fiend Slayer? To see them skinned and burned.” He held his hard belly. “Ha. Ha.” He pointed to Fogle. “Your grandfather. He likes all kinds of ugly. Take staff and bring thunder from the skies, he did. Killed dozens at a time. He laugh. Thinks it’s funny. Hmph.” He crossed two arms over his chest. “I see no staff now, Fiend Slayer.”
Boon shrugged.
“It was just a stick with some magic in it, Tarcot,” Boon said in a serious tone. “We need to address this matter. Things are not right in this world. It’s different. Can you not feel it?”
Tarcot nodded. “I do.” He clapped his hands.
Fogle had listened to Boon talking about this before. The world changing. A shift. An imbalance. He didn’t feel it, but he did feel Boon’s concern. It was serious.
Two striders appeared from a concealed doorway behind Tarcot. They were tall, but not taller than the others. They wore cloth tunic dresses of many colors. They wore jewelry and had long eyelashes. There was something else different about them too. They had breasts. Round. Heavy. He thought of Cass. Kam. Fogle glanced at his grandfather.
Boon smiled, lifted his brow and said, “Makes me think of your grandmother.”
Another female strider entered with a large pewter tray loaded with strange foods and tall stone carafes. More entered the room in more revealing clothing.
“Ease, Boon. Ease,” Tarcot said. “Today we have peace before war, for war brings no peace.” He sat back on a large four-armed wooden chair. Pointed at Fogle. “Grandson, no never see dancers like this before.” He clapped.
The strings of instruments were strummed. A leather drum beat. The sounds of tiny cymbals chimed with the twenty fingers of the dancing strider women. They bounced. Strutted. Swayed. Heads bobbed back and forth. The rhythm and song took over like a fever. Fogle started to sweat. His heart pounded with the drums.
A strider woman slipped behind him and another behind Boon. Strong hands, four of them, seized his back and neck.
“What!”
The strider woman’s strong arms held him tight and she snickered in his ear.
“We are their guests, Grandson. Enjoy what they serve,” Boon said, eyes closing, neck drifting back.
Says you!
He pulled away, only to be pulled back. She made a strange sound of warning in his ear. Twenty fingers kneaded his muscles. Rubbed his temples, back and shoulders at the same time.
Oh Bish, this feels magnificent.
His head eased back between her breasts. The dancing girls came closer and closer. Their bug eyes and swaying hips became hypnotic. His mind raced one last time. What if it’s a trap? Twenty fingers convinced him otherwise. He thought of Cass. Her lithe frame. Supple body.
The under-Bish can have that Dragon lover! He pulled that dagger out of his heart and slunk back farther. Quit acting like a virgin, Fogle.
Chapter
27
The cave ran deep below the Great Forest of Bish. Not hundreds of feet, but miles deep. There was no path. No life. No critters. No bugs. No worms. Just the soft glow of Trinos’s hands that led the Nameless Two one step after another through the gloom, winding and twisting through the catacombs. Not even dwarves or underlings had been in such a hole. That was the way she wanted it. The perfect place to hide.
“Not much farther,” she said, her voice echoing on the hard rock walls. She could feel her companions’ fatigue. Their doubt. Impatience. But they were loyal. Tough. Scarred by time and battle, but still human. An odd pair. Even for Bish. “My strength is with you.”
They’d been walking for hours, well over a day. Trinos could have gotten there faster without them, but she just might need them. She hadn’t needed anyone for … how long, it was almost impossible to say.
It felt good though. Getting away from the world above. Such turmoil. Such chaos. It was getting worse. She felt weaker. The world felt stronger. And it was her creation after all. And not in the way she wanted. Scorch the meddler had done more damage than she originally anticipated. And it didn’t seem that her equalizer, the mystic sack, was enough to handle it.
Or was the sack just having a problem finding a person that could handle that kind of power? Other steps would have to be taken. It was why she was here.
A glow appeared ahead. Radiant and changing colors. She could feel the rock pulsating around her. The Nameless Two were wide eyed. Their hands white knuckled on their swords. She lost her breath a little. The fine hairs on her arms pricked up.
“Come,” she said, moving toward the light.
She rounded the bend in the cave and there it was. A monstrous cavern hundreds of yards wide and deep. In the center, a gigantic orb of brilliant energy. Swirling. Throbbing like a mystic heart. A living moon of wondrous colors. It flared. Colorful lightning lived within. Bright spots but black spots too.
Trinos gasped.
The orb was smaller. Much so. Where the orb had once hung suspended on its own, it now was anchored to Bish. Spikes of earth and rock jabbed into it like spears, with energy coursing through them.
Bish was feeding off the orb like a leech feeds off its prey.
Trinos felt her stomach turn. The orb was where she and Scorch had stored their power when they came. Hidden from the world above for safe keeping. Without that power, they would be trapped on Bish. Forever. Or until they died. For the first time in eons, Trinos felt fear.
“Problematic, isn’t it?” a voice spoke.
The Nameless Two struck.
Stab! Stab!
Scorch stood in white robes, with an irritated look in his eyes. Two swords were buried in his chest to the hilts. “Enough already. Trinos, your over aggressive fleas no longer humor me.”
With a wave of his palm, the Nameless Two were flung away. They jumped to their feet.
Trinos stayed them with her hand. She turned and faced Scorch. “It seems we both share the same concern,” she said.
Scorch brushed his hand over his robes to repair the sword slits and then eyed the rocky shafts that penetrated the orb. “I did not foresee this,” he said.
“Neither did I,” Trinos agreed, “but I did want my world to be unpredictable …” She stretched out and touched one of the spikes in the orb. The power that coursed through the strand of rock was warm. Intoxicating. “It’s exceeded expectations.” She tilted her head and glanced past his shoulder. “Hmmm … I see you are not alone either. Strange company you keep, Scorch.”
A figure in dark robes hovered behind him. His eyes were like iron. There were others. Soldiers in black chain armor with many weapons. Underlings.
“They are your creation,” Scorch said, “are they not?
And quite interesting. Entertaining. I like the way they think. I like the way you thought them out.”
“I didn’t create them to be your evil playmates.”
“Nonetheless, they are.”
Trinos drifted backward and stood in between the Nameless Two. She felt vulnerable. It bothered her much.
Bish was her creation!
And someone was taking it from her.
“Trinos,” Scorch started, politely. He locked his fingers behind his back and began to pace. “I’m thinking it might be best if I left. Perhaps you would care to join me? I long for the loneliness of the stars again.”
He sounded sincere. His smile was dashing. Convincing.
Trinos felt a chill. The thought of a cold life in space again didn’t enamor her. She liked Bish. Hard fought or not. The peaceful moments were worth fighting for. That’s what life was about.
Scorch came closer. “I can’t do this without you. Nor you me.” He held her face in his hands. “You are such a beautiful creature. Brilliant. Perhaps we can start our own world together. The greatest of all systems.”
Her flesh stirred. Goosebumps raised on her arms. His warm breath on her neck comforted her. She felt more alive than ever.
She rested her hand on his broad chest. Felt his hard muscles. Impressive. She looked up into his eyes. They were blue like newborn planets. Filled with life. But, a furnace of deceit was behind them. I can’t be this mortal. She narrowed her eyes, shoved him back.
“You don’t want to leave,” she said, clenching her fist. Be ready. “You just want the power.”
Scorch offered an innocent grin. “I want both. To come and go as I please, as you once did. We both can have both again.”
“I don’t want both,” Trinos said. “I want this.”
“Then help me harness the power so that I might leave.”
“That would only give you the power to destroy me. To destroy Bish. That is why one cannot leave without the other’s consent.” She poked him in the chest. “This never would have happened if you had never meddled with my world in the first place.”
“You could have just let it be. Left me alone. But you wanted an explanation.”
“You’re right,” Trinos said, turning away. “I should have left you to the Void.”
Scorch seized her wrists and jerked her to his chest. “You’ll certainly wish you had if you don’t succumb to this.”
“Unhand me!” she yelled.
The cavern shook. Shards of rock dropped from above, sizzling into the orb and splitting the hard ground.
He forced her toward the ledge. His blue eyes were infernos. “Do this, Trinos!”
“Never!”
The Nameless Two’s blades bit into Scorch.
The iron-eyed underling flung them aside with a wave of his hand.
The underling soldiers pounced on the fallen fighters.
Trinos’s feet shuffled on the ledge. Scorch had overpowered her with his surprise assault. His hands were vices on her wrists.
“Quit fighting,” he said, “You’ve no choice in the matter.” He looked over his shoulder at the underling with iron eyes. “Do it!”
The underling gestured with his glowing hands. She raised her guard, and gasped when Scorch muted it with his powers. She and Scorch were lifted from their feet and sailing toward the orb.
“Stop this madness!” she screamed in his face.
“Never!”
Into the orb they went with a dazzling flash.
Bish shook and trembled.
Master Sinway stood on the ledge with a smile on his face. He’d never imagined such power before. He stretched out his hand. Fingertips. It fed him. Just to harness it would give him all the strength he ever needed.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
He turned toward the skirmish.
The Nameless Two outmatched his Badoon soldiers, their blades as fast as they were sharp. They moved with speed beyond their powers. Sinway was certain the woman had something to do with that. Her powers were unfathomable as well.
And here I thought I was the most powerful in all the world. I am a gnat!
Mesmerized, he watched the orb. Scorch had promised him more power than he could imagine, but he could imagine quite a bit now. He leaned closer. Why should I wait for him to give it if I can take it for myself? He licked his lips.
Glitch!
He turned. The last Juegen soldier had fallen. The Nameless Two came straight for him, blades dripping with gore. Summoning his power and slinging them backward with a thought, he turned to face the orb once more. Thousands of years of life converged into his next thoughts.
“I want. I get.”
Into the orb he went.
Chapter
28
It was late. The bustling in the Magi Roost was dwindling. Venir’s chair groaned when he rested his forearms on the table. The fire crackled behind him, warming his back. A blurry eye inspected the innards of his tankard.
“Ale!” Venir yelled.
“There’s plenty on the table,” Melegal said with a bargirl giggling on his lap. “Pour and be silent already.”
Venir grabbed one empty tankard after another and tossed them to the floor.
“Grog!”
“You finished all that was left,” Melegal said.
“I did?”
Melegal nodded. “But they’ve plenty of coffee left.”
Venir leaned back, chair groaning. He’d been drinking the better part of the day. Loosening his bones down to the marrow. Softening the aching in his muscles. He rubbed his face. Felt the sting of the shiner on it. Ran his fingers over his missing ear.
What else is there?
He rested his hands on the edge of the table. Eyed the black stubs of his fingers on one hand. It trembled. Flexed the five on the others.
“I’m surprised there’s this much left of me,” he whispered.
“Me too,” Melegal said, not looking at him.
Venir wasn’t sure if Melegal was talking to him or the buxom woman on his lap. His thoughts drifted to Kam. He didn’t know if she was mad at him or not. He rubbed his face. Yawned. Turned toward the fireplace and reflected several moments. Fight or die. He grabbed a metal poker and stirred the coals. I fought and should have died. I fight … things die. “Hmph.”
A strong hand slapped his shoulder. He turned. Billip stood behind him and took a seat. His forehead showed deep creases.
“Try to keep it a little lower, Venir,” Billip said, cracking his knuckles. He eyed the front door and balcony. “We haven’t had this much peace in days and I’m certain it won’t last. Let us all enjoy it if you can?”
Venir scooted back to the table.
“Why does everyone act like they’re dead already?”
“Because we probably are.”
“That doesn’t sound like your kind of talk, Billip.”
Billip rubbed is goatee and offered a grin.
“Well, if you insist on sitting around until Scorch arrives, my perspective will be plenty clear.”
Venir stretched his long arm across the table and grabbed a metal pitcher. He looked inside and tossed it to the floor.
“Will you stop doing that?” Billip said. “Have you lost both your brains and your manners? This isn’t one of Bone’s holes, Lout.”
Venir let out a rugged sigh and leaned back. “Does one man frighten you so, Billip? After all we’ve fought? All we survived.”
Billip grabbed his arm and squeezed it. “We need to leave while we have the opportunity. He’ll be back. Our lives depend on it.” He swallowed. “Talk to Kam. Tell her to leave this cursed place.”
“She won’t go, Billip. Not with any convincing. Certainly not mine.” He
pulled his arm away. “And where would she go? Any of us? The underlings spread like weeds. Look at these people.” Over a dozen patrons remained. Smoking. Drinking. Having hushed conversations with one another. “They are scared slatless of the wilderness. There is nothing but death out there. Melegal and I barely made it here ourselves. The caravans are arriving in bits and pieces. You said so yourself.” He stood up. “No, I’ll take my chances with this Scorch and the other one for now.”
“Melegal,” Billip started, “are you hearing me?”
Melegal shrugged his narrow shoulders and said, looking at his girl, “My ears are reserved for her lips tonight. You should do the same.”
Venir rubbed Billip’s head, picked up the pitcher, and set it on the table. He patted the long hunting knife on his hip.
“We’ll be alright.”
It was going to take more than scary stories to run Venir off. He’d fought hard enough to get back. The Outlands. Underlings. The Under-Bish. Giants. Dragons. He’d survived them all. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.
Billip looked over his shoulder at him. “You don’t have that get up, Venir. Not that I think that’d be much help either.”
I escaped Outpost Thirty One without it, he wanted to say, but didn’t. He would have died without Slim. That much was certain.
“Billip,” Venir said, “I’m staying. You’ve no reason to stay if you don’t want.” He looked at Melegal. “You either.”
“Hah,” Melegal said, “I’m not staying on account of you. I’m staying on account of her.” He squeezed the barmaid’s knee. She giggled and slapped his shoulder. “And I’ve come as far as I want for today. I’m not going anywhere near those Outlands. Not after those … things!”
“What things?” the barmaid said. “I want to hear this.”
“You’ll hear when I say you can hear and not a moment sooner.” Melegal bounced her off his lap. “Now off with you. Take me to your abode. My limbs grow weary.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I need a woman’s touch to soothe them.”
The Darkslayer: Series 2, Box Set #1, Books 1 - 3 (Bish and Bone) Page 13