“Cass!”
He tugged. Dug his heels into the turf and pulled backward. One step. Two steps. The pit hissed. Green and black acid erupted in splattering globs, splashing his hardened skin and sizzling into nothing. He took control of his magic, his anger, his will, pulling the rope back, hand over hand, faster and faster. The ground quaked beneath his feet. Something dark and deadly was furious with him.
He called for her again. The rope continued to coil, foot after foot, at his feet. Where was she? He dragged a man-sized gob of something, sticky, green and black, onto the ledge. He rushed over and picked the mass up into his arms, and the world exploded.
***
One second Fogle's hands were burning, the next they were not. Chongo’s entire body writhed with violent seizures that tested the limits of Mood's mighty arms. In the next second the naked flesh of the druid spilled outside of Chongo, coated in a dark green and purplish goo. The smell had the foulness of an underling’s marsh. Fogle wrapped his arms around the unmoving woman. The wizard was rocking her back and forth, saying, “Don’t die. Don’t die, my sweet.”
CHAPTER 46
Smack!
Lefty reeled as Kam’s heavy hand knocked him to the floor. She wanted to kill the little betrayer, but she needed him.
“How could you do this to me, Lefty? After all I have done for you!” She screamed in his face.
The little blond haired boy said nothing, only holding his tiny hand on his reddening cheek. Kam’s fists were clutched at her sides. She let her anger fight her panic. What else could she do? Her baby was gone, somewhere deep in the vile underbelly of the City of Three. Thorn, Palos’s personal messenger, had been pretty clear on what the Prince of Thieves wanted. He wanted her, more so than gold and power. Why? Why me?
She could hear Joline sobbing inside the kitchen. The woman had returned violated and mortified somehow, unable to speak. Her thick gray hair was a mess, and her clothes were torn. The woman fell completely apart at the news of Erin’s kidnapping.
“Fool woman. What do you suppose to do now?” Thorn said, grimacing. His face and body were burnt and broken, but there was still pleasure in his face. The rogue still had some control, bound by magic or not. “You’ve attacked me. Palos will kill you and your daughter for your transgression.”
Thorn’s mocking laughter was cut off with a wave of her palm. The magic cords that bonded him squeezed around his neck.
“Kam, you must stop this and listen,” Gillem piped in, a nervous look in his eye. “We can’t help you with your baby if you’re dead. Just give Palos — urk!”
Similar bonds held the halfling, the sound of leather constricting around his neck. Kam let the halfling's eyes start to bulge from their sockets, his face turning into a turnip.
“Kam!”
Both Thorn and Gillem Longfingers were choking to death.
“KAM!” Joline shouted again, blocking her view of the men.
They both flopped and kicked on the floor, gagging and coughing for air.
Joline grabbed her face that was flushed and streaked with tears and said, “You are not a murderer.”
The words affected her. The urge to tear something apart drained out of her. She released her hold. Gillem and Thorn gulped for air.
“What do I do?” Kam whispered.
“How much does Erin mean to you, Kam?” Joline said softly.
“Everything,” she sobbed, “she’s all I have left.”
Joline gave her a look, and she knew what she would have to do. It was time to make a sacrifice.
She turned around and muttered something in magic. Her mind shimmered, searching for Erin, trying to bring her baby back. Nothing. Her powers, formidable as they were, had limitations in that regard. She had focused more on the aggressive arts, as opposed to the passive ones. She slunk down onto a chair. Her mind and powers were exhausted, and her grip on the two thieves on the floor was beginning to ebb. She needed time to regain her strength. Thorn had already made it clear her time was short.
She looked over at Lefty. He sat on a kitchen stool, his little head downcast, spitting out his nails. What had happened to the once innocent little boy? She cast a glance towards Gillem, the robust halfling, as deceiving as Palos himself. Georgio had been right after all. Gillem was at the root of Lefty’s problems. How had the boy seen it and not she? Perhaps she hadn't wanted to.
She cursed.
Still, the responsibility was on Lefty. His deceit had led to all this. Lies and dishonesty would cost them all greatly. Maybe the boy didn’t think he had a choice, but there was only one choice when it came to right and wrong. One had to discern the difference.
“Joline,” Kam said, regaining her feet, “get me the City Watch. I’m sure Thorn’s time would be better served with them.”
She twirled her fingers in the air, and Gillem’s bonds fell loose. The halfling man couldn’t hide the surprise on his face as he quickly rose to his feet, soft eyes flitting back and forth. His long fingers rubbed at his wrists and neck as he said, “Kam, we must hurry. Palos is ruthless. He’ll kill Erin and have you anyway.”
“Aye, wench, she’s probably dead—”
“Chad-dah kin,” Kam spoke. Thorn's lips and ears sealed shut.
Thorn’s newly deformed face had the most panicked expression.
“We can’t have him blabbing my plans to the City Watch. For all I know they are bought and paid for. That should keep him quiet for now. “ She looked at Thorn. “You’re fortunate I left you your nose holes. As for you two,” she motioned to the halflings, “I guess I don’t have any choice. Take me to Palos.”
***
A Gondola. It was something Kam had never ridden in nor known existed before. Small and wavering, the tiny craft cut through the blackness with only the green glow of the lantern providing light. She held her stomach as she shivered underneath a heavy cloak. Behind her, Gillem manned the rudder, his pie face almost hidden in the dark. In the front, Lefty paddled the craft, its small oars moving the craft over the black waters at what seemed to be an agonizing pace.
“How much farther,” she asked, her voice echoing.
Gillem replied, “Not much longer, Lass. Not long at all,” he said as his voice trailed off.
Erin. How would she save her baby? She was venturing far from her beaten path, below the city, into the unknown, where another world waited for her like an open maw. She had heard rumors of the Nest, but she had given little thought to its actual existence. There had never before been a need to concern herself.
“What is that?” she said.
Lefty gave her a glance. She could see the frown etched in his sad face. What had happened to the happy little blond haired and blue-eyed boy? He seemed so much older now, but filled with despair. She looked away. There was no time for forgiveness now. It was his fault.
“Archways, Lass. We are close,” Gillem offered.
She fought against the creeping doom that was seeping into her bones. She had to be strong for Erin. Closing her eyes, she meditated, ignoring the sounds of the paddles dipping and pushing through the waters and the creaking of the boat. She had a few spells left. She always did. One by one she recalled the steps in her mind. Her vault of energy had strength, but it was no longer full. It would take more than magic to escape from Palos. The man might be greedy, but he was no fool. He’d dealt with the likes of magi and wizards before. He wouldn't have gotten to be who he was if he hadn't been privy to their tricks. She thought of Venir. What would the man think if he knew he had a daughter who was abducted? Would he be as angry and vengeful as she?
She tucked her hands up under her aching breasts. I’m getting closer. I must be. She reached out with her mind for Erin. Nothing. For all she knew her baby was starving now. Be strong. Fresh tears began to stream from the corners of her eyes as the passed underneath the arches. Concentrate. Everything faded away as she stared at the tiny lantern, stroke after stroke. She closed her eyes.
“We’re here,”
Gillem said.
Kam opened her eyes. A rotting city awaited them on a mound of dirt. A massive brick chimney was in the middle of it all, smoke seeping from a tiny vent hole on the side. It gave the otherwise hopeless and dreary slat hole the appearance of life. Docks jutted out and wrapped around the entire city where faceless men strolled, stood and talked. Light flickered from torch lit lampposts and the insides of haphazard storefronts and apartments. She couldn’t believe her baby was here, in the dark and murk, among the city’s most notorious ilk.
She glared at Lefty, then back at Gillem.
“Take me to Palos, rogues!”
She ignored the hard and gawping stares as she strode behind Gillem. They would all burn if she had her way: thieves, kidnappers and smugglers, all deserved to die. Many of them would if she did not get her way. She ignored the smell, the rodents and the screams of vile pleasure as they traversed the catacombs of the tiny city's alleys. All she knew was she was getting closer to her baby. Hang on, Baby.
Gillem pushed his way inside two swinging tavern doors. She followed, booted feet clomping on the planks, and came to a sudden stop. A dozen men wielding crossbows and knives greeted her: four on a balcony, the others on the main floor, spread out among the tables.
“Have a seat, Woman,” one said from the balcony, sucking on a toothpick that dangled from his mouth. “Prince Palos will be with you momentarily.”
“Tell that blood sucker I’ll see him now!” she yelled.
Clatch – Zip!
Kam cried out. A small crossbow bolt protruded from her thigh, knocking her to the ground. An eruption of pain raced through her leg, and humiliation followed on the snickers of the men. She’d never been cut or stabbed by anything before, but she’d stitched a kitchen wound or two. Blast, it hurts. I never imagined. Kam fought to regain her feet. As Lefty reached for her hands she punched him in the chest, filling the room with uproarious laughter.
Two uncomely men dragged her up into a chair and bound her. Her leg was on fire. It was agony. Help me. There wasn’t an honest face in the room to heed her call.
Then, as the man with the toothpick in his mouth reloaded, he said, “Any more blasphemy towards the prince and the next one will go in your neck. That will leave us to take care of your darling little baby.”
CHAPTER 47
The City of Bone. A black monolith shimmering below the burning sky. Georgio wiped the sweat from his brow. Home. He sped up his pace, mouth watering at the thought of a stuffed biscuit and milk.
“Slow down,” Mikkel said, peering through his spy glass. A look of frustration crossed his ebony face, his big smile many days gone. “Get a look at this, Billip.”
“I want to see,” Georgio turned back and headed for Mikkel.
“In a minute, Boy,” Billip said, pushing him aside.
The journey from the City of Three had been nothing short of harrowing. Wind storms came and went; the nights were longer than the days and of all things, underlings. Georgio had killed three himself, and Billip and Mikkel had killed another twelve, but they weren't without casualties. One mintaur and two ponies were dead. Only they themselves and somehow Quickster still lived.
Billip, skin tanned by the suns, his sharp features hardened by battle, gawped as he peered at the ominous city.
“Let me see,” Georgio pleaded. His stomach groaned. He was starving. They had started off with all they could carry, but after that last fight with the underling hunters most of their supplies were left to wither in the dust. He’d had little food in days. He couldn’t ever remember being so hungry. It didn’t seem possible.
Billip tossed Georgio the telescope, turned to Mikkel and said, “Those people are worse off than we are.”
“What people?” Georgio said, “I don’t see hardly anything.”
Billip jerked the spy glass from his grip and hit him in the head.
“Ow! What did you do that for?”
“Wrong end, Stupid.”
“Oh,” he replied, rubbing his head as he raised the spy glass back to his eye. “What the in world of Bish!”
There were thousands of them. People. Huddled in a moving mass outside the City. He had never seen that many people in one place before. It was enough for an army. An army without a banner or siege equipment. An army that was starving to death. His belly let out another loud growl.
“You better get used to that,” Mikkel said, “because we can’t get in there. Bone!”
Billip kicked up the dirt. “Bish!”
Georgio could see the anguish in Billip’s face as he clutched at the bandage on his side. Mikkel sat down behind Quickster's shadow and adjusted the sling on his busted shoulder. Georgio felt a little guilt as the two men baked in the sun, clearly in some type of agony—internal and external agony. He, however hungry he may be, was fine. Sure, getting feathered with a few crossbow bolts hurt like the dickens, but the look on that underling's face before he ran them through almost made it worth it.
I got to have a biscuit. So close.
He walked over to Quickster and stroked his think black mane. If the quick pony was thirsty or hungry, he didn’t show it. The pony seemed as oblivious to the blistering environment as a stone. “We better not take you anywhere nears those people, Quickster. Those people will turn you into a roast.”
“They aren’t the only ones,” Billip said, tossing a knife into the ground.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said. “I’m not eating my friend.”
Mikkel added, “We may have to trade him, Georgio. It’s the donkey or us.”
“No!” He wrapped his arms around Quickster’s neck. “He’s not even mine … he’s Melegal’s”
Billip jumped up on his feet. “The beast is mine, Boy! Melegal stole him from me!”
“Did not!” Georgio screamed.
“Ah, but he did. What else would you expect from a thief?” Billip poked Georgio in his chest. “He stole my ass!”
Mikkel rumbled in laughter, adding, “You can say that again. Did he steal your tender heart, too?”
Georgio slapped Billip’s hand away saying, “He’s Melegal's, and under my care. You might as well try to kill me if you want to take him.” He ripped his broad sword from his sheath. “And just to remind you … You can’t kill me!”
Billip slugged him in the jaw. He dropped to his knees, sword falling from his hand. Then it hit him. He raised his finger. “I just remembered: I know a secret way in!” He fell face first into the dirt.
CHAPTER 48
It was big. Venir stood in helpless horror, his own marrow running cold, at the sight of one of the most ghastly things he ever saw.
“Bish.”
One horse was being weaved into a cocoon while the other’s life was being sucked from it. A spider, the size of four war horses, had its fangs plunged deep into the big horse's haunches. The grey mare kicked one last time as its strong and vibrant body was sucked down to a husk. The enormous insect rose up on four of its eight hairy legs and let out a frightening screech that would have run a giant’s blood cold. Run! His instincts screamed, and he would have if not for something else.
Huddled down in the tall grasses, he strapped on his helm and withdrew his shield. There would be no running from that thing. Hide yes, but run … no. But, that’s not why Venir stayed. It was something else: underlings. Six of them rode atop a basket impossibly embedded on the spider's back. The second dawn's light had risen to reveal the gleaming evil in their bright speckled eyes.
His helm began to burn and beckon. Kill! The black eyelets began their glow. Them! The bond between him and Brool became one. ALL!
Venir’s muscles bulged; his veins writhed beneath his skin as his blood began to flow like lava. He took no notice of his heaving chest or prickling hairs as he fought to hold his position. The venomous spider glided over the grass, its long hairy legs touching the ground as soft as petals. It was the only barrier that came between Venir and the underlings. In order to kill them, Venir would have to ki
ll it. It was time to fight. It was time for something to die.
As the spider tapped around the clearing on its fuzzy black legs, Venir crept forward. Attack! The black body and white-and-black-ringed orb of this spider wasn’t very different than that of the sand spider had been. He was certain there was nothing but gooey green guts in there. From a hole on its tail end, spider silk shot forth, spraying and coating the dead horse. It turned again, the red glow of its eight eyes scanning over the grass and jungle. It felt like thunder behind his temple, exploding in his ear. Attack! The spider reared up on its hind legs almost fifteen feet in height and screeched once more.
The underlings were making short chittering commands as they tugged at many ropes on the saddle. The spider shuddered and shook, knocking one underling off its back and onto the ground. In the next instant, the spider’s front spear-shaped leg pierced the underling in a series of lightning quick blows. Something in Venir quivered.
Avoid those.
The underlings chittered with anger as they jabbed long black rods into the insect, and they crackled with every strike. The spider's feet flailed as it reared and then it dropped and settled down. The underlings had regained control and turned the insect toward him. Venir remained still. His shield was pulled in front of him as he hunkered into the tall grasses and angled himself behind a small grove of jungle trees. Fear and rage intermingled in his mind. The spider was getting closer, each of its steps crushing down on the ground with power. He would have liked to be giant sized again so he could smash the insect under his toe. Attack!
Something bounded past him. The spider turned. A cotton tailed rabbit as big as a man stood up in the field.
A giant rabbit? What in Bish?
Spider silk shot out. The rabbit bounded away in a single leap that took it clear from his sight. The spider turned in pursuit, its rear flank exposed. Venir couldn’t contain himself. The proximity of the underlings was killing him. Attack! Like a metal gazelle he bounded over the grass, closing the gap from him to the spider in two seconds. The spider flinched as he rolled under its belly, grazing its hairy coat. A spear-like tentacle jabbed at his head, glancing off of his shield.
The Darkslayer: Book 04 - Danger and the Druid Page 24