Haggie patted its head.
“Such a little charmer, aren’t you?”
It whacked her in the belly.
“Oof!”
She doubled over.
It clocked her in the jaw.
Haggie saw large white spots and everything faded black.
***
The guardian stepped out of the glowing circle and took the mystic sack out of the cauldron. It opened the mouth of the sack and stuffed her inside like rags, then walked over to the dogs and rubbed both their heads. The dogs licked the guardian imp up and down, drawing a fierce little smile. It reached inside the sack and pulled out large ham bones and tossed them on the floor with a clatter. They barked, lay down and started to gnaw.
With a grunt, the imp tossed the sack over his knotty shoulder, scaled the wall like a monkey and disappeared through the window.
CHAPTER 25
Venir sat on the sofa in Kam’s apartment. Baby Erin was nestled in his big arms. Sleeping. Silent.
“She’s so tiny,” he said. “Like a halfling.”
“She’s big for a girl. You’re just too big for a boy,” Kam said, offering a weak smile.
Venir grunted. The last few days had been the best he’d known since he left. Despite all the bruised and cracked bones, he felt better. Not his best by far, but better. It was Kam he worried about now. She looked gorgeous sitting in the rocker. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But her eyes were tired. Her demeanor dark.
“How does it feel to find out you’re a father?” She teetered forward in the rocker. “Of not only one, but two?”
“Well,” he said, shrugging his big shoulders. Erin stirred. “Easy now, little girl. Uh … well she’s far prettier and seems a little less temperamental.”
“You haven’t seen her hungry. She can be quite the handful. But you didn’t answer me.”
“Bish is full of surprises.” He offered a smile. “Brak and Erin are some of the better ones. I can say that.”
Kam went over to the window and stared outside. She was different. Unsure. Angry. Venir could feel it. It was also how he felt.
“I don’t have any plans, Kam, if that concerns you.”
She turned and huffed.
“Venir, I couldn’t be happier that you’re here, but given the circumstances, it might be best if you left again.”
“Will you quit saying that?”
“No,” Kam objected. “Darleen will—”
Venir let out a gusty laugh.
Erin’s eyes lit up and she giggled.
“Are you really worried about that oversized raccoon?” He got up and set Erin inside her cradle. “Hah! Melegal has a handle on her.”
Kam twinkled her fingers. The cradle rocked and started singing.
“No Venir! She’s not the problem. It’s Scorch. And Master Sidebor. They will come. And when they do,” she shook her head. “It’ll be the end of all of us.” Her chin dropped. “You finally came, but you couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
Venir covered her shoulders with her hands.
“Then perhaps we should make the most of our time together before that time comes?”
Her head snapped around at him.
“What?”
He eyed the bed.
Her green eyes blazed. “Pig!”
“I’m no pig,” he said, holding down his voice. He’d wanted her from the moment he first saw her again, days ago. “I need you, Kam. I want you … now.”
She shoved him in the chest.
“Go try your charm on Critter Face. Get out of here, Venir!”
He stood his ground.
“You have not left my thoughts since the day I left.”
“And you have not left mine,” she said, twisting away from his clutches. “And that’s not a good thing!” She opened the door and beckoned him out. “Go!”
Venir headed for the door and went right out.
She slammed it behind him.
He caught it with his foot. “Sssssh … you’ll wake the baby.”
She shoved him back and quietly closed the door.
He heard her on the other side of the door, saying, “Men!”
“Wenches,” he said, heading for the stairs.
***
Melegal sat huddled in the corner alone at the Magi Roost. Despite the rough start, the tavern was more than palatable. The serving girls were pretty and friendly. The wine as good as it comes, not the cat piss he’d gotten used to in the Drunken Octopus.
He cleaned his last fingernail with a knife. Took a long sip of wine. Eyed a serving girl with swaggering hips and puffy red lips.
Looks better. Smells better. Must be better. Hmmm?
She made her way over to him with a warm smile on her face. Her blouse dangled open at the neck. Her eyes and nails were painted in soft colors and she smelled like freshly cut flowers.
“More wine?” she said, taking a seat. “Food or other delicacies?”
“Is that all you have to offer?”
“Now, now,” she said, patting his hand. “This isn’t that kind of tavern. I bet you’re from Bone, aren’t you?”
Melegal shrugged. “What gave it away?”
“Oh,” she said, twirling her hair, “you’re more direct down there. But, I like a man that’s straightforward.”
Melegal slid some coins across the table.
“And I like pretty girls that keep sweet wine coming.” He flashed a smile. “Bring me some stew as well.”
“Certainly,” she said, wiggling her hips out of the chair and walking away from the table.
With admiration, he watched her go. He held up his goblet.
To Haze. May your memory never fade so long as my loins can help it.
He shifted toward the fire. Tightened the cloak on his shoulders.
The Magi Roost was in good order now. All the broken furniture had been stitched together by a magic spells. Kam had done that, to the bewilderment of many. Beautiful and smart, a pressing advantage despite the missing hand. That was the eerie thing. The hand that drifted inside the oversized pickle jar. Who does such a thing? Melegal had gotten the entire story, thanks to Billip. It was disturbing, perhaps overblown. Let’s just see how it goes? If anyone draws trouble, it’ll be Venir. I’ve no quarrel with this Scorch or Sidebor.
Darleen stepped into his view. She rubbed her big chin and eyed him. Her goons that he’d come to know from earlier, Dasan and Ozark, accompanied her.
Lords, she’s like Sis and Frigdah in one. A Motley Girl ten times.
Ozark and Dasan took seats on either side of him. Their faces were busted and bruised. Darleen stood right in front of him, blocking his view.
“This is a scrawny one,” Darleen said, sucking her teeth, “and I can’t tell for sure if it’s a man or a woman.”
The goons chuckled.
“I’m not surprised,” Melegal said, “I don’t think giant vermin can discern that.”
“Oh ho!” Darleen said, slapping her knee. “He talks like a man. Let me ask you something, man-woman.”
“Ask away, uh, Darleen, isn’t it?”
“Yea.”
“Well, that is a pretty name, but something’s wrong with it.” He gave her a hard look.
She drew back and said, “What?”
“It’s just that the name and the face don’t match. I mean, I’m well-traveled and I’ve never met an orc named Darleen before. Perhaps you should try an orcen name. Durlith.” He rapped his fingers on the table. “That’s it, Durlith! Durlith … Yes, that fits your face like a gauntlet.”
Ozark and Dasan laughed.
Darleen shot them a look.
“Listen you!” She pointed right at Melegal. “Joke all you want, but when Scorch and Sidebor get here, I’m going to have them peel you apart from the inside out.”
“And if they don’t come?” Melegal said, checking his nails. “Then what will you do? Perhaps it is you who should go. After all, it is you who are not wanted.”
>
Darleen slammed her fists on the table. Her face and neck turned blood red.
Melegal eased back in his seat. She was big for a woman and her breath was bad. The whole lot of them smelled.
“You need to go! Your friends need to go with you!” she seethed. “It’s the only way Scorch will spare you. Consider this warning a kindness.”
“I didn’t realize livestock were capable of kindness.”
Dasan grabbed Melegal’s jerkin at the shoulder. Jerked him forward. “You better mind your manners,” Dasan said, drawing him in.
Melegal looked right into his eyes. “Let go.”
“Or what?” Dasan said with a jutting chin.
Melegal grabbed Dasan’s hand and wrenched his thumb.
Crack!
Dasan howled, jumping up from the table.
Whisk!
Melegal slipped a dagger under Ozark’s fat neck.
Blood dripped onto Ozark’s armor.
“I can draw more or I can draw less.”
Wide eyed, Ozark pulled his fat hands away from the daggers in his belt.
“Are we finished here,” Melegal said, “Durlith?”
“Not even close,” she said, slowly turning away. “Let’s go!”
Ozark eased his greasy neck away. Dasan sneered and moved on.
How did this place get mixed up with that woman? Critters burrow. She’ll never go.
He adjusted the cap on his head. Perhaps I can convince her.
He focused on Darleen’s mind. Eyed her feet. His head began to tingle.
She fell face-first into a table. Screamed. Bounced up to her feet with wine and food all over her. She punched Dasan in the arm.
“Why did you trip me for?”
“I didn’t!”
She punched him again, looked around and scurried out of the room.
Melegal tucked his dagger inside his cloak with a smile.
The barmaid came back with a carafe of wine and a large clay bowl of stew. “That was something,” she said, pouring his wine. “Are you alright?”
“Never better.”
She had a worried look about her.
“Is something wrong?” he said.
“Did they hit you?”
“No. Why?”
“Your nose is bleeding.”
Melegal touched his finger under his nose. The blood on his fingertips was warm.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Perhaps it’s this northern weather.” He slipped out a handkerchief and dabbed his nose with it. “There. Seem better?”
She nodded, reached over and rubbed his chin.
“You just whistle if you need me, Handsome.”
“I certainly will.”
His head started to ache.
Bone!
CHAPTER 26
“Underlings,” the strider chieftain said, gesturing with his two left arms. Up. Down. Out. “Many.” He jabbed his spear into the ground. Clicked his tiny sharp teeth. “Many. Many. Many.” He wore a headdress that hung over his head like a helmet with metal beads down to his neck. His chest was covered in plate mail that looked fit for a human. He was tall, taller than the rest.
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 any
one 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.
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