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

by Craig Halloran

Ears pinned back, the hulking brute lowered its head and stared her down with the cold eyes of a killer.

  This should prove interesting.

  Sidebor floated down onto a small bed of sand to watch. The hot sand felt good on his sandaled feet for some reason.

  Very interesting.

  The fighters circled.

  Elypsa’s graceful feet familiarized themselves with the terrain. She squinted in the bright light of the suns, looking uncomfortable and a bit annoyed.

  The Vicious was at home wherever it could kill. The cunning monsters were nearly impossible to beat in a fight. After all, Sidebor himself had created them to be his own bodyguards, ages ago.

  Now it seemed that his son, Sinway, had mastered the creation as well. A mad mix of magic, underling, and other things. The Vicious were the ultimate warriors of the Underland.

  Lithe of frame but firm, the brooding hulk seemed to tower over the much smaller woman. It was a mismatch of great proportions. The monster darted in and jumped back.

  Elypsa’s razor-sharp sword edge clipped the tip of its nose.

  The cunning fighter feinted in again, only to jump away quick as a wink.

  The swords were extensions of the graceful woman’s arms. Quick and accurate, they cut at the monster with precision and speed.

  Back and forth the woman and thing danced.

  Elypsa’s blades kept the brute at bay until, boots shuffling over the dirt, she slipped.

  The Vicious pounced.

  She twirled around its lunging hide and struck with ferocity.

  Slice!

  The creature unleashed a savage snarl and whirled around to face her. Its right hand dangled between bone and wrist. It tore it off, threw it at her, and charged.

  Elypsa’s blades flashed like black lightning and carved into the oncoming beast. The first sword cut its throat.

  Slit!

  She buried the second sword hilt deep in its chest. Her third strike buried into its heart.

  Stab!

  The Vicious cut loose a final swat with its claws.

  She slipped beneath it, turned her blade deeper in its chest, and ripped it free.

  The creature’s face planted in the sand.

  She shook the blood off her blades, wiped them on the hide of the dead monster, and sheathed them. Crossing through the dust without a drop of sweat or gore on her, she stopped in front of Sidebor. “Where are we?”

  “We are where you wanted to go, the outlands. Miles from the Underland. Leagues from civilization.” Sidebor craned his neck to look at the Vicious. It was still as the stone and quickly being covered up by the stirring sand and wind. “Your skills are extraordinary.”

  “That’s an understatement.” She spied the horizon. Her violet eyes were filled with curiosity.

  “Well, on behalf of the Vicious, the creature was without a weapon.” He glanced at the blades on her hips. “It was at a disadvantage.”

  “I’ll remember that the next time we see one. Then you can fight it.” She raised her chin at him.

  “Oh there wouldn’t be a fight.” He looked over at the fallen Vicious and back at Elypsa. “Just a word.” He waited for that to sink into her mind.

  She looked at him with anger in her eyes.

  He gave her his cruelest smile. Yes, I could have stopped it with my magic, but I allowed it to test you. Out loud, he just said, “So, now that we are Underland fugitives, what is your grand plan?”

  “I want to learn more about the outlands, and I want you to show me.”

  “There really isn’t that much to them, as you can see.”

  “Then why are we always trying to overtake it? There must be something more to it.”

  Now that’s curious. Why indeed? “Let’s go then.”

  “Where?”

  He looked her up and down. Sidebor couldn’t have asked for a better companion. He smiled. “Wherever we want.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Mind racing, Georgio sprinted for the balfrog. He didn’t know what else to do. He’d lost his friend once already. He didn’t want that to happen again.

  Billip and Nikkel raced alongside him.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Georgio!” Billip yelled.

  “He’s gone, Georgio!” Nikkel added. “Unless we can carve him out of that belly!”

  Georgio pushed through them and tore out of their hands. Closing in, he raised up his sword and charged for the creature’s bulbous belly. He swung with all his might. The blade ripped clean through the skin, and pockets of fat seeped out. Like a lumberjack, he chopped into the great beast. Hunks of flesh gave way to his sword’s keen edge.

  “KRO—ACK!”

  Still hacking, Georgio glanced back over his shoulder.

  A long pink sticky tongue lashed out and stuck to his face, suffocating him. It jerked him up off the ground.

  Dangling in the air kicking and squirming, he swung like a wild man. His blade finally bit flesh, and Georgio crashed to the ground.

  Billip and Nikkel seized him and dragged him away.

  “Stop! Stop! Let me go!” Georgio cried. His fingers stretched out toward the monster. “Let me go!”

  “You can’t kill that thing by yourself,” Billip said. The smaller man was straining to hold him. “You can’t!”

  Georgio recalled what Pall had said and what Lefty was trying to do. It was madness. Holding out his sword, he said, “I know how to kill it. Inside out! That’s what Pall said!”

  “Pall’s mad!” Nikkel said.

  Redoubling his efforts, Georgio dug his boots into the ground, and he started dragging his friends along with him. “I’m going in! I’m going in!”

  The balfrog’s tongues snaked out.

  Georgio extended his arm toward them.

  The pink and slimy flesh coiled around his hand and started reeling him toward the mouth.

  Billip and Nikkel clung to his waist.

  Georgio felt his shoulder pop out of place. “Let go of me!”

  Wide-eyed, the men released him.

  Propelled by the balfrog’s tongue, Georgio sailed through the air, and into its mouth he went.

  Gulp!

  Suffocating in hot slime, his body was being squeezed into a cocoon-like tunnel. His arms and legs were pinned.

  Instantly, Georgio realized he’d just made the worst decision of his life. He couldn’t die from a wound, but he could drown. Now he would drown in his own stupidity.

  His mind screamed.

  What have you done!

  His body plummeted and stopped on a soft padding. A cavern of flesh.

  With his sword hand, he wiped the goo out of his eye. He was in a hollow space filled with flesh and guts. The organs had a warm glowing illumination to them.

  “Georgio?” said a tiny voice.

  He turned to the sound.

  There stood Lefty, coated in slime with a dagger in his hand. His eyes were weak.

  “Lefty!” Georgio scooted over to hug his friend, but Lefty stayed him with his hand. “What is it?”

  “I can barely breathe,” whispered the halfling.

  He’s right. I can barely breathe, either.

  “Start chopping toward that sound,” Lefty said, “the heartbeat.”

  Georgio heard it. Strong and loud.

  Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!

  Lefty sagged onto his knees. “Hurry.”

  “I’ll get us out of here!” Gripping Tonio’s jewel-encrusted sword with two hands, Georgio hacked away.

  Balfrog innards splattered everywhere. The huge body tremored.

  Focusing, Giorgio kept chopping toward the sound of the heart. At the same time, he fought to breathe. Deep down, he knew time was running out as he waded through the watery flesh. Still chopping despite the strength in his arms fading with the breath in his lungs, Georgio poured it on.

  The thump of a heart pulsated somewhere nearby. Flesh blossomed and popped.

  He cut a veil of flesh and surged through the opening.

/>   There, a pulsating orange bulb beat with hungry life.

  Georgio rushed forward and stabbed it over and over again.

  Finally, the entire body he stood inside swayed.

  At the same time, Georgio teetered and fell into the soft gooey flesh all around him.

  The balfrog’s body convulsed in death throes, squishing him.

  On hands and knees, fighting for breath even as he fought the squishing goo, Georgio searched for Lefty.

  There he is!

  Oh no!

  The halfling’s tiny frame lay collapsed in the goo.

  Georgio picked up his friend in his arms.

  He’s not breathing.

  Georgio wanted to scream, but he didn’t have it in him.

  And then he realized, Oh. I’m not breathing either.

  In his last few moments of clarity, Georgio felt proud of what he and Lefty had accomplished, in killing the balfrog.

  I hope we saved Billip and Nikkel. Hope they live on … to help Venir kill the underlings. That has to be enough.

  The living light of the balfrog grew dim and went out.

  The suffocating blackness closed in.

  ***

  Eyes and tongue popping out, the huge balfrog lurched and let out a loud croak. Its entire body sagged. Its mouth closed with both tongues hanging out.

  The remains of the small army raised their weapons in salute and let out a triumphant cheer. “Hooray!”

  “They did it!” Billip and Nikkel yelled, slapping each other’s hands.

  Spurred on by the victory, the jung and the striders turned the tide on the underlings.

  But Billip ran for the balfrog, took out his sword, and started chopping. “We need to get Georgio and Lefty out of that beast!”

  The flesh didn’t give.

  “Boon! We need to slice this thing open!”

  The wizard appeared. “I don’t have a sword at the moment.”

  “Then make one!”

  “Somebody hold this thing’s jowls open!” Pall said, standing in front of the slain monster. “Hurry now!”

  Nikkel climbed up into its mouth and lifted the lips apart.

  Billip and Pall climbed up behind him.

  With a heave, muscles straining all over, Nikkel opened the balfrog’s mouth wide, with him standing like a post between the lips. “Hurry,” he gasped.

  Billip wedged himself in there as well.

  Pall slid inside, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

  The moments were agonizing, and doubt swelled in Billip’s chest. Arms trembling, he told himself to hold on.

  For Lefty! For Georgio!

  A sucking and squishing sound caught his ear. Pall was crawling out of the monster’s throat with two bodies in tow. He tossed the first one out of the balfrog’s lips.

  The small frame bounced off the frog’s chin and into the dirt. Lefty’s slime-covered body wasn’t moving.

  Pall shoved Georgio out of the mouth too.

  His body rolled down alongside Lefty’s.

  Pall jumped out by the pair of friends.

  Billip and Nikkel rushed down to them.

  Shaking the slime from his red beard, Pall said with a sad voice, “They killed it, but they didn’t make it. Sorry.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Spell hanging on his lips, Fogle found himself tongue-tied. There was something about the scarred and beautiful woman. There was power in her picturesque physique. Danger in her eyes. She had said she would kill them, and she meant it.

  She approached Brak, and she appeared to be prepared to carve him into slabs of meat fit for roasting.

  “Pardon,” Fogle blurted out.

  The woman turned. Her blue eyes burned into his. “You wish to precede him into death?”

  Hands up, Fogle replied with respect, “It seems that you are short-handed on men. Perhaps you could use some others? Er … to replace them?”

  Blade to his throat, she sneered at him. “Do I seem like someone who needs men?”

  Swallowing, Fogle felt the blade nick his Adam’s apple. “You don’t look like you need anybody.”

  “Hmmm, you are wise for a man. What is your name?”

  “Fogle.”

  “Well Fogle, I don’t allow spies to live.” She drew her sword back. “It’s called survival.”

  “I’m not a spy!” he pleaded.

  She stayed her hand. “That’s what the last spy said.”

  “We are traveling with this child,” he replied, gesturing to Jubilee. “We only came upon your men by accident.”

  “That’s unfortunate, but I don’t take any chances. You still have to go.” Again, she poised to strike.

  “At least give us some sort of chance.” He was staring right into her hardened eyes.

  It was clear she could not have cared less who he was or what he had to offer. She was going to kill them. Kill them all.

  And then he remembered who she was! “Jarla, stop!”

  She paused. “What did you say?”

  “Jarla, stop!”

  All of the brigands shuffled, eyeing one another.

  “Where did you discover that name, Fogle?”

  It was a fascinating dilemma that gave him the advantage. He knew her, but she didn’t know him. He was certain she wouldn’t have forgotten that day, though. The day Venir vanquished her. He was there, and it was there that they’d hitched up again with Billip and Mikkel.

  Careful what you say next, Fogle. Should you be truthful, or shady?

  “I’ve seen you before, what seems like ages ago. It was a place in the worthless dirt just like this. That day, I was riding with Venir.”

  Her eyes widened. She took a step back, rested her longsword on her breast, and tapped on the steel with her fingernails.

  Fogle couldn’t read her expression.

  The surprise in her face vanished. She stood complacent.

  We still breathe. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?

  “The snakes,” she said to him. “I remember the snakes. You’re a wizard, aren’t you.”

  “At your service, Jar—”

  “Bind his hands!” she ordered. “Quickly! Hers as well.”

  The leather of the cords bit deep into Fogle’s wrists.

  Jubilee started to cry.

  “Stifle their lips as well,” Jarla said. She turned on a heel and marched toward Brak, who still stood on his knees. His arms hung limp at his sides, and his head was down, stomach rumbling. She grabbed his chin, tilted it up, and said, “Look at me.”

  Slowly, Brak brought his eyes to hers.

  “You have Venir’s eyes. Are you kin to him?”

  “I’m his bastard son,” Brak replied.

  “How sweet. So, does your father the pig still live?”

  “I’d say so, seeing how nothing can kill him.”

  Jarla sheathed her sword and laughed.

  The other brigands chuckled along.

  For a moment, the dark woman almost seemed happy. “And what is your name?”

  “Brak.”

  “Sounds like something your father would come up with.”

  “No, my mother Vorla did.”

  Holding his big chin in her hand, she studied his eyes. “I see a boyish innocence in there. Very strange.” She caressed his shoulder, stopped, and looked at Gondoon. “And you beat my ogre. Perhaps there is a use for you yet, but you’ll have to understand I have severe trust issues. As they say on Bish, ‘Never trust a mage.’” She faced Fogle and Jubilee. “And I don’t like other women in camp. Tsk, tsk. Shall I kill them or not?”

  “You don’t have to coerce me,” Brak said.

  “Coerce?” Jarla said. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Brak shifted to one knee and stood almost eye to eye with her. “You need a new commander. I’ll be it. Spare my friends, and you have my word.”

  Fogle tried to shout out, “No,” but he stopped himself. It’s not the worst plan. Maybe they’ll let us go and we’ll free him later.


  “Your father betrayed me, Brak. And I don’t need a mindless berserker ruining my camp. I think it’s for the better that I kill you all.”

  “That would be a mistake,” Brak said. His stomach moaned. “You can use me. I pledge my loyalty.”

  “All men are liars.”

  “All women are liars too.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “Yes.”

  She patted his face. “You’re much wiser than your sap-driven father was. So be it. You can all be my guests. Men, guard them.” She led Brak to his feet. “As for you, Brak, it’s time to prove your loyalty and consummate our relationship.”

  Jaw on his chest, Fogle watched Brak and Jarla leave. Did she say consummate? I don’t think Brak knows what that is.

  Lucky bastard.

  CHAPTER 29

  Melegal rode on Quickster with Jasper latched on behind him. Ahead, Joline rode with Kam and Erin. Venir walked, and Trinos was nowhere in sight. It had been a long day. A long life. Shoulders sagging, Melegal rode on, trying not to think about the possible terrors that awaited him next.

  It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it.

  Slom and Zurth were dead. He had kind of liked them. They hadn’t had much of a choice in the matter.

  Scorch was gone, or at least he seemed to be. That gave Melegal little relief, however. The damage had been done. He’d never be the same again. He blinked. He could still feel those needles in his eye, and his vision didn’t seem as sharp. He smoothed over his cap.

  The only thing I can trust is under this hat, and I need to protect it.

  Venir moved ahead with a long and easy stride, helmet off. He had a half-smile on his face and almost seemed cheerful. Once again, the man had conquered death, with some help of course.

  The same could be said of Melegal. That strange and radiant woman, Trinos, had come to his aid. He should have been dead. His blood had been spilled everywhere. His clothes were stained dark red. Yet, he breathed. He wasn’t certain whether he was thankful for it or not.

  They’d been riding for a couple of hours as the suns set when Jasper said to him, “Do you have any idea where we’re going? I miss my city.”

  “Into some other terrifying situation, I assume.”

  Her arms squeezed him tighter. “I’m being serious.”