The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures

by Craig Halloran

  In another mile he caught sight of the giant in the distance. Lefty sat on Barton’s shoulder like a blond-haired parakeet. They were stopped at the edge of an overlook with their attention far below. Georgio caught up to them.

  “Thanks for leaving me behind,” he said.

  Lefty swung his legs from the front side of Barton to the back. “We didn’t leave you. We were scouting.”

  “I’m a better scout than you are. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “I tried kicking you. You sleep like a rock, so we left you.”

  Georgio frowned.

  “Not for dead, just so we could take a look around.” Lefty ducked aside as Barton started digging in his ear. The halfling’s face soured upon sight of a glob of wax on the giant’s fingertip. “Ew!” He hopped down from the twelve-foot-tall giant’s shoulders. “I hate it when he does that.”

  Georgio moved toward the ledge. “So, where are we?”

  “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.” Lefty stood on the rim with Georgio. “It’s somewhere where the trouble is gathering.” He pointed. “Look.”

  Far off, a city of tents covered the ground. Bodies moved among them in an organized fashion.

  Squinting, Georgio asked, “Are those men or underlings?”

  “It’s too far for me to see. I was trying to decide whether or not I should approach them or just get a closer look.”

  Georgio called up to the giant, “Barton, you have a big eye. What do you see?”

  Barton’s attention was on the tents, but there was a spacey look in the giant’s eye. His lips twitched.

  “I asked him the same question, but he’s not speaking for some reason,” Lefty said, looking up at Barton. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. It’s weird.”

  “Well, we can’t just stand here. We need to find Venir and I need a drink. I say we scout.”

  Lefty shrugged. “Lead the way.”

  Georgio looked over the ledge. It was very steep, leading down into the valley, but the rocky outcroppings made for easy foot- and handholds. “Going down is quicker than going around.” He squatted down and slid over the edge. “Barton, you stay here, I guess. We’ll be back.”

  Barton stood stone-faced.

  Lefty crawled down the ledge. He was halfway to the bottom before Georgio made it ten feet.

  Irritated, Georgio said, “Will you slow down?”

  “No, you speed up.” Lefty scurried down the rocky wall like a spider monkey.

  Picking up the pace, Georgio climbed down hand over hand. The rock gave out under his toe. He slipped, lost his fingerholds, and fell. He skipped, tumbled, and bounced all the way down the wall until he hit bottom. He couldn’t move.

  Lefty doubled over, clutching his belly. “Tee-hee-hee-hee!”

  A lance of pain shot through Georgio’s shoulder as he tried to move. “Argh!”

  Fighting to compose himself, Lefty said, “Did you get hurt?”

  “Yes, I got hurt.” He managed to sit up. “My shoulder’s busted.”

  “Well, it should be. You rolled off that cliff like a boulder. You should have seen your face.” Lefty made some ghastly expressions. He giggled again. “Then, wham, you landed on your shoulder and part of your face.” He stuck his finger out at Georgio. “See, there are cuts all over it.”

  “Yes, I can feel it. Just help me up.”

  Lefty grabbed Georgio’s good arm with two hands. Still giggling, he helped haul Georgio back to his feet.

  Georgio walked over to a pile of rocks and searched over the flat surface until he found an edge. He slammed his shoulder into it. “Gaaaaah!”

  “Do you feel better?”

  “Does it sound like I feel better?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you felt well enough to fall down that cliff again. That was gut busting.” Lefty wiped the tears from his eyes. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed. It feels good. I remember doing it all the time.”

  “We both used to. I guess laughter’s hard to come by these days.” He smiled. “Let’s go. Maybe we’ll find something to laugh at again later.”

  As they walked, Georgio glanced back toward Barton. The giant squatted like a statue slouched over the rim. Strange. They made it another mile before they both saw a dust cloud approaching east of their direction. “Riders,” he said as his hand fell to his sword.

  Lefty plucked out his dagger. “Worse yet. Riders on spiders.”

  “Bish, I hate underlings.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Wild-eyed, Brak the berserker swung Spine Breaker into an underling’s skull. The crack sounded like a board breaking as its head mushed like a melon. The fury had only begun. Up to his armpits in underlings, Brak busted up one after the other. He choked one by the neck while bashing it in the face with the cudgel. The gray-skinned fiends fell in heaps of busted bones and sagging limbs. Every strike Brak made caused a loud fiery crack.

  Chongo bull-rushed a wave of underlings over the arena wall. He pounced on them in tandem. His claws ripped open their chests. The underling soldiers rallied. They tossed javelins into Chongo’s flank. Some stuck and some didn’t. The huge dog shook off the oversized needles. Baring his fangs, he growled, barked, and attacked. He snatched an underling in his jaws. With a fierce bite, he crunched through its chain mail. He slung the underling aside, struck fast as a snake, and chomped into another underling’s leg.

  Venir’s powerful legs carried him high in the air. With the help of his hand, he propelled himself over the arena wall. He gored an underling in the chest with a quick thrust. He ducked under an attacker’s bladed swing. He clobbered in a jaw with a backhanded strike.

  Get the sack!

  Vaguely aware of the fighting that surrounded him, he focused on the mystic sack lying on the bleachers. Sinway abandoned it when he crossed the arena to attack Manamus. Her flesh turned to dust. The foul smell of burning flesh and crispy hair defiled the air. Venir sensed the underling’s presence coming back. He forced himself upward in the sea of fighting. He had to retrieve the sack. Already his lungs burned and labored.

  Another man fought in the stands—Ebenezer Kling. He was long and rangy, with broad shoulders, fighting with the skill of a true swordsman and the heart of a lion. The heavy length of steel he wielded turned aside the underlings’ smaller weapons and quickly brought death. But Ebenezer too was outnumbered.

  The walls were closing in. Time was running out. Venir had to get the armament, kill Master Sinway, and save them. He gutted an underling.

  “Churk!” it garbled.

  Venir hefted it up with one arm, and slung it into two others. He spied the stitched-up sack. It was little more than a body length away. Fingers outstretched, he leapt.

  ***

  Ebenezer’s heart turned around the moment his mother, Manamus, died. They’d never had the strongest of affections, but in the end, her final words made it clear. He mattered. She mattered too. The underlings would have to pay. He parried a sword and countered with a slice to the neck. “This is my castle! Get the Bish out of it!”

  Using his length, he beat the enemy forces back, steel catching meat from time to time. He paid for it. The underlings flanked him. Spears jabbed at his ribs. A tip struck his thigh. With a chop of his sword, he sliced through the spear’s handle, twisted his strike, and cut through the underling’s leg. “Argh!” he cried out. A metal tip dug deep into his shoulder blade. He jerked away and spun. Five underlings pounced at once, driving him to the ground.

  ***

  Venir’s fingertips brushed against the soft leather of the sack. Underlings pounced on his back. Their sharp fingernails dug into his arms, pulling him back. “Get off me, you evil ticks!” He crawled up the seat and reached for the sack again.

  The entire arena trembled under the power of Master Sinway’s voice. “I’ll take that.” The sack glided away from Venir’s outstretched fingers into Sinway’s awaiting hands. “Enough games!”

  The plank seats vibrated. The air
stirred. With a burning look and gesticulating hands, Venir, Brak, Ebenezer, and Chongo were lifted into the air.

  “Kuurn,” Sinway said, “let’s string these fools up.”

  The slender underling’s citrine eyes glowed with fire. Kuurn made an open pass across his face with his long-fingered hand. Webbing spread from the top rafters to the bloody arena floor, dividing the arena in half.

  One by one, Sinway used his telekinetic power to stick Venir and company back-first on the webbing. Venir wriggled. The more he did so, the more the webbing took hold. Brak thrashed like a wild man, burying himself deeper in the webs. The webbing clung and ripped his skin the more he jerked. “Brak! Calm yourself before you rip your face off!” Venir ordered.

  If his words were heard, it didn’t show. Brak moaned and growled with savagery.

  Venir had full view of the mayhem he and his friends had caused. Underlings were clumped over the seats and the arena wall, gored, broken, and bleeding to death. The survivors gathered alongside Master Sinway and Kuurn. The deep hatred in their eyes bored into Venir and company. He’d wounded them deeply. They cut him deep too when Elypsa killed Kam. The lone female underling was lying against the arena wall. She stirred. With languid eyes, she shook her head and stood up. She staggered toward the center of the arena, and with help from her brood, she climbed into the stands. She took her place between Master Sinway and Kuurn.

  Creed lay in the arena as well, sitting in his own pool of blood. His back was against the wall. He held up his sliced-off hand with his good hand. Though painted, the skin that could be seen on his face was pasty and ashen. His breathing was shallow. His eyes were rolled up in his head. He looked more dead than alive.

  “Keep breathing, Creed,” Venir said.

  The man didn’t respond.

  Master Sinway stood tall, feet floating over a foot off the ground. His robes dusted over the planks. “I will give you credit, mortal; you fight with a gallant heart. You don’t know when to quit. Even I admire the fighting spirit. But this show is over.” Master Sinway tossed the sack over his shoulder in an uncharacteristic way. “You’ve singlehandedly slain enough of my brethren, and it ends once and for all today.” His fingers ran over the stitches of the sack. “As for this bizarre creation that has aided my enemies far too long, I shall destroy it. But first I will destroy you, as promised, one bit at a time, for the pleasure of my brethren. Kuurn.”

  Kuurn gestured toward the rafters. His fingers wriggled like spider legs as he chittered in underling. White spiders with red stripes that could fit in the palm of a man’s hand crawled out of the rafters and onto the webbing. They scurried toward Venir and the others. Each and every spider had a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Somebody help her!” Jubilee pleaded. She was cradling Kam with her ear tilted to Kam’s mouth. Erin attached herself to her mother’s legs. “She’s still breathing. Barely.”

  Fogle was on a knee. His hands trembled. Kam was dead so far as he was concerned. Blood pumped out of the wound in her ribs. It twisted his stomach. No, no, no, this can’t be happening. It was happening though. Right before his eyes, his dearest friend was dying. On the other side of the portal, he was certain Venir and the rest were doomed. He’d never felt so helpless.

  Billip and Nikkel stood over him, battered and bloody, with fire in their eyes. “Open another portal,” Billip demanded. “We can’t help Kam, but we can help Venir.”

  Shaking his head, Fogle croaked out the words, “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?” Nikkel said.

  Fogle had never seen the young black look angry before. “I can’t open another portal. That last one was all that I had left in me. I-I’m sorry.”

  “It’s over then,” Billip said, shaking his head. “It’s only a matter of time for the rest of us. I say we find Hoff. We need to honor Venir’s final words. We’ll take down the West Gate even if it kills us.” He looked down at Kam. His eyes watered. “We’ll avenge her. Let’s go, Nikkel.”

  Slim lowered his lanky frame over Kam. “She isn’t dead, though chances are that she will be soon if we keep talking and not acting.” His spider fingers popped up out of his sleeve. With a strange life of their own, they crawled into Kam’s wound. She jerked. “See, she lives. Mostly dead only.”

  “What are you doing?” Cass stood over Slim’s shoulders with a curious look on her face.

  “I hope to stop the internal bleeding. It feels awful in there though. She’s truly ripped open.”

  “She grows cold,” Jubilee said with a sniffle.

  “Cass,” Slim said. “Can you warm her up?”

  “I’m a druid. I can do much more than that. Just tell me what you need.”

  Slim gave a quick smile. “Certainly, but after I get Kam out of the grave. In the meantime, I need you to keep her warm.”

  Cass rubbed her hands together, creating a warm pink radiance. She took off Kam’s boots and grabbed her ankles.

  Tears streamed down Jubilee’s face. “I can feel it. So warm. Comforting.”

  “It’s a necessity when living in the mountains, sometimes. The north is very unforgiving.” Cass eyed Fogle. He was slouched over. “Your worry is of little use. Do something fruitful, Fogle. Your expression fouls my mood.”

  He snapped out of his trance and scooted back. He wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to help but couldn’t. Over the years, he’d felt a very strong kinship with Kam that sometimes became something else. He’d wanted her since the first day he saw her. Now the worst thing possible was happening. With a guilty heart, he was witnessing her death.

  “I would like to think your heart would be bursting the same for me as it is for her now if I were in the same situation,” Cass said.

  Fogle looked into Cass’s pink eyes. The druid always saw right through him. “Just save her, please.”

  Cass’s chin dipped. “Anything for you, Fogle Burdened.”

  Slim’s body stiffened. Kam lurched. Her eyes popped open. There was the scrunching sound of sinew, bone, and cartilage mending in her body. At the same time, Slim’s youthful face began to age. His skin tightened. Age spots appeared. The long hairs on his head turned from tawny to gray. He started to withdrawal his hand from the wound, slowly. In a wheeze, he said, “This is bad. Very bad.”

  The druid sounded one hundred years old and looked worse. His eye sockets were hollow. Fogle scooted back, his jaw hanging open. Slim gave him a feeble wink as he finally withdrew his spidery hand.

  “Will she live?” Fogle asked.

  “It’s up to her now, I’d say,” Slim replied in a dry voice. “Hoot, that really takes the life out of me. It becomes worse every time I do it.” He collapsed on the barn floor.

  “Slim!” Fogle rushed over to the man. The lengthy man was light as a feather when he picked him up. “There’s nothing left of him.”

  “He is not like us,” Cass said. Her voice was cryptic. “He is part of Bish.”

  “What do you mean by that?” he said. Slim was still deteriorating. His bones and skin became brittle. “Slim? Slim?” He gave a gentle shake. Slim’s head snapped off. “Gah! Did I just kill him?”

  The entirety of Slim’s body turned into small flying insects with pale-blue wings and sand-colored bodies. They scurried, took flight, and flew up and out of the barn’s skylight in the form of a small swarm. Birds dived on the swarm and gulped many of the bugs down.

  “Ew,” Jubilee said. “That was really strange.”

  Eyes cast up, Cass said, “It was a beautiful thing. Good-bye, Slim.”

  “He’s gone forever?” Fogle asked.

  “Probably so, in the form that you know him, at least.” She turned her attention to Kam. “Your woman is still cool but breathes. That’s the best that can be done for her now. You can’t expect much when one is on the brink of death. Chances are, if she wakes, she won’t be the same.”

  “Why do you say that?” Fogle asked.

  “This is
Bish. It happens.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Altan Rey stood deep inside the dugout. The door leading out opened. All of the underlings had abandoned the dugout as far back as the preparation room. The fight was over. Altan rubbed his cold hands together.

  I’ve never witnessed anything like that before. If any man could have stopped Master Sinway, it was Venir. A pity it did not happen how I hoped. Or did it?

  He stared through the bunker bars. Venir and his comrades were hemmed in by webbing. The biggest man of all, a towering seven-foot monster, raved unintelligibly. His situation became worse with his tremendous struggles. The blood from the men’s wounds dripped on the floor and soaked into the webbing. Now, tiny spiders so creepy that Altan’s bones chilled crawled toward the doomed men.

  Altan swiped a thick layer of sweat from his bald head. In truth, he was hopeful that Venir could defeat Master Sinway. Deep down anyway. It seemed logical at the time. Even Venir had him convinced that, if it was going to happen, it would happen. Fate took a different route. Fortunately for Altan Rey, he played both sides, preserving not only his life but Castle Kord’s as well.

  Take a breath, Altan. You did what you had to do.

  Watching the creeping doom crawling down the web, his fingers fidgeted with his thumb. They lit up with a crackle. He didn’t want to see Venir die like this.

  Devoured by spiders. A sickening thing. It’s no way for a warrior to die.

  With a flick of his fingers, he could send a shower of sparks out. The embers would destroy the webbing. He envisioned the heroic moment. He saw Master Sinway turning him into dust too. He balled up his hand, and the magic fizzled out.

  I’ll just have to find another way, for me, anyway.

  There was a passing breeze. He turned. A woman stood before him. “Ashlyn, you shouldn’t be here.”

  “You’ve been gone too long.” Ashlyn wore tight-fitting red robes laced with green. A belt with a dagger graced her hips. Melegal’s gray knit cap hung over the side of her face in a stylish manner. She ran her fingers through his hair. “I was worried.”