The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 1-5): Sword and Sorcery Adventures

by Craig Halloran

  The underling turned to greet his aggressors with two swords bared.

  “Nooo!” Eep screamed.

  The larger warrior’s sword arced downward, chopping through the steel of the underling’s blades and sinking his own blade deep into its skull.

  Blink.

  Eep landed on the soldier’s back and started to tear his throat out.

  Don’t you dare, imp! Leave that man be!

  He let the man go, shook the blood off, and buzzed away.

  No more games, imp. Find me Scorch, and I’ll feed you more underlings.

  CHAPTER 24

  “We can’t just drift into the Underland with you looking as you do,” Master Sidebor said.

  “I don’t see why not,” Scorch said. “I think I can handle any danger.”

  Sidebor’s face tightened. As much as he anticipated his return to his homeland, he had no desire to be slaughtered the very moment he arrived.

  “This requires stealth. Deception.”

  “Ah,” Scorch said. He capped the pickle jar. “So you prefer I assume the form of an underling? Maybe I could be one of those horrible … oh, what do you call them?”

  “Urchlings.”

  “Yes, I think that is what you would like to see me be.”

  Sidebor had thought about it. He needed to guard his thoughts better. “Underlings know one another, but they don’t pay such close attention to urchlings or the like.”

  “How about you be the urchling, and I’ll be you?” Scorch’s body shifted, and his robes darkened in color. “How is this?”

  Sidebor faced a mirror image of himself. “Flattering,” he sneered, “but we don’t need them to recognize either one of us, now do we?”

  “Of course not,” Scorch said, “but I don’t think we need to worry about that right now.”

  Ahead, the Current dropped off into the sound of a crashing waterfall. The craft glided over the water, coming to a stop at a small dock.

  Sidebor tied it off and followed Scorch down the pathway. His fingers tingled as he stepped onto the overlook.

  A vast, dark city sat below, carved from stone and fused by metal. Lights twinkled with a soft glow as far as the eye could see. He was home for the first time in centuries.

  “How much did you miss it, now that you see it?” Scorch said.

  Sidebor’s heart pounded. There weren’t many things that moved him, but this did. “I have no word for it.”

  Scorch slapped him on the back. “I can tell.”

  The Underland was glorious. The mammoth cave spanned miles. The castle and buildings rivaled anything above ground. Towers with spires hundreds of feet tall. Roofs of silver and gold. Caves overlooked the city with hundreds of openings and a vast network within. The Current turned into a lake that the city sat on. Underlings paddled small craft through the water. Others floated.

  Sidebor could hear music over the roar of the falls. “Hmmm …”

  “Something amiss?” Scorch said.

  “There isn’t as much activity as I’d expect. The streets seem … barren?”

  “Perhaps you should lead the way?”

  Sidebor summoned his power, stretching his limbs and converting his eyes from deep red to that of a burning orange sapphire. The hair on his head and brows was already thicker than it had once been, thanks to the new body Scorch had provided.

  “Nice touch,” Scorch said. His ruby eyes turned to sapphire blue. “I like blue. Lead the way.”

  Stone staircases wound downward, stopping at a large platform suspended in the air. Wooden walkways with arched bridges went off in several directions. Sidebor felt a tad queasy. There had been changes. Many structures he remembered were gone. New ones, huge and grotesque, replaced them. All of it bore the mark of Master Sinway.

  Sidebor’s claws dug into the rail where he stood.

  “You have family still?” Scorch said.

  “I’m certain they are all dead. Come.”

  Sidebor could have floated but chose to walk. The less attention they drew the better. So far as he knew, Master Sinway didn’t know he was back and had no reason to believe he would be. His adversary had no idea that Scorch had met with him, either. Still, certainly Sinway had some kind of warning in place.

  “No one is expecting us,” Scorch said.

  Sidebor glared at him. The man—or whatever he was—had too much power. But every power has a weakness.

  They made it down to the main streets of the city, where underlings in commoners’ clothing prowled, decorative and tasteful. There were merchants, storefronts, and the aroma of comfort foods he’d gone long without. He heard Scorch’s stomach groan.

  “Underling cuisine?” Scorch perched a brow. “How interesting.”

  It drew some stares from passersby.

  “Speak Underling,” Sidebor whispered in his own tongue. “I suppose you can do that?”

  “Certainly,” Scorch said back in Underling.

  “I suppose you want to dine.”

  Scorch took a seat at a table in front of a dreary café.

  A small female underling came out and greeted them. Her hair was white, eyes pale violet, skin dark grey, and very little covered her nubile form.

  Scorch eyed her with interest while Sidebor ordered. Scorch’s eyes followed her when she departed. “That was delightful,” Scorch said. “Enchanting and pure evil. Hah.”

  “She’s a wretch riddled with imperfections. Why else would she work here?” Sidebor scanned the area. The underlight kept the cave linings illuminated, but there were still exquisite lanterns posted, and lights coming from all sorts of windows. The Underland was a place with its own hideous beauty. Cold. Uninviting. Underlings talked and bartered, but no money was exchanged. Just agreements of sorts. His tense muscles began to ease.

  The underling woman returned with a bottle of port and a plateful of steaming food. She bared a jagged tooth behind her crooked smile and walked away.

  Scorch inhaled the aroma. Dug his fork into the food.

  Sidebor filled their goblets.

  “Mmmm…” Scorch commented, “sweet, sour, and spicy all mixed into something that is far from delicious, yet satisfying and palatable. How would one describe? Gorlicious.”

  Sidebor rolled his eyes.

  As they ate, Scorch asked question after question. Sidebor explained the underling ways, everything from commerce to mating. Scorch devoured it all.

  “I can’t believe what he has done,” Sidebor commented later.

  “And that would be?” Scorch said, tapping his chest and letting out a gentle burp.

  “The Underland is practically abandoned. Our forces are … gone.”

  “It’s not likely the Underland will ever be invaded.” Scorch finished off his port and saluted. “A gutsy move!”

  More stares came their way from other underling patrons that sat nearby.

  “Perhaps we should go, before you prattle off any more gibberish.”

  “Certainly,” Scorch said. “Let me pay for the meal, and then you can take me on a tour.” His hand slid off the table.

  Sidebor snatched it. “We don’t pay for such things. It’s all taken care of.”

  “Not even a tip?”

  “A what?”

  “Never mind,” Scorch said, scooting his chair back, making an awful noise. He bumped into underlings seated at another table, jostling their drinks. “Apologies.”

  What is this fool doing?

  “Did you say something?” Scorch said, teetering away. His feet left the ground, and he began walking on air.

  Muttering an underling curse, Sidebor grabbed the hem of Scorch’s robes and pulled him back to the ground. “Get your senses back, Scorch,” he hissed in his ear. “You’re making a scene.”

  “Certainly, Sidebor,” he said.

  “Keep your voice down. It’s likely a crime to mention me.” Sidebor shoved Scorch along, avoiding all the probing stares, and stopped just inside an alley. “This loose behavior ends now, Scorch
,” he said, seething.

  Blue eyes flashing, Scorch said, “You dare threaten me?”

  “You threaten both of us,” Sidebor said. “As powerful as you may be, you don’t want to engage a host of underling magi. It would be unlikely you’d crawl out of these caves alive. There’s hundreds of them down here.”

  “Hundreds?”

  “Well versed. Hardly pawns.” His sharp nails dug into Scorch’s arm. “I demand your discretion.”

  Scorch glared into his eyes, shoved him out of the way, and sauntered into the streets filled with prying gemstone eyes. Hic! “Come along, Sside, hic … I mean, comrade. I’m so ready to absorb this fine city.”

  Sidebor waited in the alley, fingers twitching and mumbling to himself. “He’s crazy.” He caught up with him. “You’re going to get me killed.”

  Hic! “Oh, why would I do that?”

  CHAPTER 25

  Chop!

  Hack!

  Glitch!

  Venir cut down two urchlings and the last cave dog. He’d been cramped inside a tunnel, barricading himself behind a pile of the dead. Hours earlier, he had mown a path through them, huddled into the tunnel, and made his defense. Now a heap of mangled bodies, gouged faces, and twitching limbs kept his pursuers at bay.

  He hefted Brool up one more time and brought it down on an underling’s neck.

  Slice!

  The head dropped into the knee-deep water.

  Venir gulped for air and leaned his broad back against the wall. His iron-thewed limbs ached and burned. Gashes seeped blood from him everywhere.

  Kill them all! Helm urged yet again.

  Ignoring the call, Venir turned and ran. The time when Helm controlled his every movement was gone. He’d faced fire, torture, and death countless times. He had become the ultimate survivor.

  No metal bucket will tell me what to do.

  He sloshed through the water and popped out of the tunnel. Boots back on a sandy shore, he jogged through the darkness. He’d given the underlings something to think about. Their pursuit was muted by his impossible efforts. The farther he ran from them, the more the simmering helmet on his head cooled. His formerly battle-heated body became heavy, his breathing ragged. He forged ahead, stopping on the planks of a dock he had found two days earlier. There was a staircase leading to the city above. He swallowed and looked back. The tunnels were silent, the air cool.

  Time for some new scenery.

  With a groan, he slid his shield off his back and snatched his backpack. He pulled out the stitched-up leather sack and opened up the neck. The shield went in first, followed by Brool. He unstrapped Helm’s chinstrap and scanned the dark water and tunnels through him one last time before he pulled him off and dropped him in, spike first.

  Venir’s energy sapped.

  With effort, he stuffed the limp sack back into his pack, shouldered it, and limped up the stairs. His boots squished on the planks. He reached the top, pushed open the door, and was hit by a blast of fresh air. He staggered into the alley and collapsed into some crates and garbage, laughing.

  It was night, but it might as well have been day after being surrounded in blackness for ten days. He forced himself up and wandered down the alley, uncertain where he was. The streets were lifeless, quiet. All the shutters were closed. Doors were sealed.

  But the City of Three always has night festivities.

  Horse hooves caught his ears, and the rustling of armor. Venir slipped into the shadows between two storefronts. The City Watch, some on horseback and others on foot, patrolled the streets with lanterns. Venir saw a weary look in their eyes.

  A pair of men were cuffed and walking with a woozy gait. One stumbled and fell to his knees and started giggling.

  “Get up!” a watchman said. “Get up now!”

  “I’m trying.”

  A club came down.

  Whack!

  “Get up, or we’ll leave you out here with the underlings.”

  “No!” the man said. “No!” He forced himself up to his feet with the help of his friend. “Sorry.”

  Whack!

  The watchman smote him on the back.

  “Ow!”

  “Quit howling and come along.”

  They moved on.

  Venir could feel the heaviness in the air. The nervousness of their voices.

  ***

  Kam dabbed a wet rag on Fogle’s brow. The pair sat underneath the balcony, out of sight.

  “Are you well?” she said, smiling.

  “I’m fine,” he said, leaning closer. “Just fine.”

  The Magi Roost was a mess. Jaen’s powers had set portions of the bar on fire. Fogle’s magic and buckets of water from the trough outside had extinguished it. Now, the fine tavern was once again marred in smoke, grime, and blood.

  He stared at the corpses. Jaen and a dozen soldiers were laid out alongside one another. Jaen’s figure stirred him. He’d never seen such evil from a woman before.

  “Thank you, Fogle,” Kam said. Standing over him while he sat in a chair, she hugged his face. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, his voice muffled against her breasts. He felt her soft lips on his forehead. His battle-dulled senses found new arousal. Blood rushed through his hips.

  Kam sat down on his lap and continued to wipe the grime from his face.

  He averted his eyes from her heavy stare. Tried not to ogle her. He wanted to pick her up and take her to her room.

  She’s incredible.

  “I’m glad you stayed, Fogle,” she said, lifting his chin and looking deep into his eyes. “Very glad.”

  ***

  “Brak,” Jubilee said, shaking him. “Brak, snap out of it!”

  Part of her didn’t want to stir him. Hours ago, he’d almost hewn her into bits and pieces, but she was the one who had provoked him, after all.

  “I think you should leave him be,” Jasper said. She sat at the fireplace with her feet up. “He almost killed us.”

  “No,” Jubilee said, looking over her shoulder at the dead. “She did.”

  “Well, you showed her different, didn’t you?”

  “She had it coming.”

  Shivering, Jasper drew her legs up to her chest and held them tight. “I’ve never seen anything like that before, and I thought I’d seen plenty. I’m guilded with a nasty crowd. And Fogle,” Jasper said, eyes sliding over, “he took out Jaen, well, mostly. She’s one from the highest order.”

  “You’ve never been to Bone, have you?” Jubilee said, snapping her fingers in front of Brak’s face.

  “No. I’ve always heard it was a little slathole filled with the nasty races.”

  “Hah! You’re joking.”

  Jasper shook her black-haired head. “It’s well established that the most powerful live and thrive here in Three.”

  “You’re serious.”

  Jasper nodded. “And there will be consequences, now that Jaen has fallen. Her allies, I’m certain, won’t take this well. Not well at all.” Her eyes locked on Jubilee’s. “They’ll avenge her.”

  “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  “My own.”

  “Well, you’d better pick one.”

  Jasper leaned back and closed her eyes.

  “Mrrmuh,” Brak said, shifting on the floor.

  Jubilee put his head on her knees and stared down at him.

  “What happened?” he said, smacking his lips.

  “You killed everyone again.”

  “What?”

  “Only kidding,” she said, “you only killed almost everyone.”

  “I did? Who?”

  “Just a bunch of soldiers—and you almost killed us.”

  Brak jerked up into a sitting position. “What?”

  “You sat up, Brak!”

  He scanned himself. Moved his arms and fingers. His jaw dropped.

  “Can you stand?” Jubilee said. “Here!” She pushed a chair over. “Try to climb onto this.”

  “I can’
t,” he said, shaking his head.

  “You can! I just watched you kill all those men,” she said, pointing at the corpses. “That wasn’t done by a cripple. Now get your arse in that chair, Brak!”

  “Are you going to start saying mean things again?”

  Jasper huffed a laugh.

  Jubilee glared at him. “If I have to.”

  “I don’t like that.”

  “Well, I didn’t have much of a choice,” she said, folding her arms over her chest and looking away. “You saved us all for it, so let it go.”

  Grunting, Brak took a knee and looked down at her. “How’s this?” he said.

  “Can you stand?”

  He stretched upward, and a smile started on his grim face.

  Jubilee’s eyes turned to saucers. “Brak! You did it! You did—”

  He teetered over and crashed through a table, hitting the floor with a thunk.

  “Well,” Jasper said, “at least he made some progress.”

  ***

  Kam’s lips found Fogle’s: soft, warm, hungry. Her fingers ran through his hair. Elation consumed him. Logic gave way to lust.

  Wham!

  Wham!

  Wham!

  Heavy blows rained down on the front entrance.

  Kam’s lips tore away from Fogle’s, but her hand held him fast by the hair. Sweat ran down her heaving chest.

  Wham!

  Wham!

  The next blows shook the hinges, bowing the door inward.

  “I can fix that,” Fogle said, twitching his fingers.

  “No,” Kam said with her eyes smiling at his, “save your energy. I’m sure they’ll go away.”

  “Could be the Watch.”

  “They’d have said something. The Royals would have too, for that matter. It’s just travelers looking for an inn. They’ll move on.”

  They waited, panting.

  Fogle’s hand eased up her thigh. “Seems you were right.”

  She kissed him. The world melted away. A rush of lust consumed him. He kissed her neck.

  “Upstairs,” she said, kissing his ear. “Take me now.”

  “Absolutely—”

  Crash!

  The front door burst open, shattering the bar. A statue covered in blood and brawn staggered inside, his skin slashed to ribbons in a dozen places. He held a large purse in his bloody hand and tossed it on the remains of the bar.