“Succubus,” Da’Nel said repeating himself. “Now get your damn weapon ready. And for the sake of everyone, try to block the impure thoughts clouding your mind.”
This time Kharisi did as he was told and drew Petram’s ax in his right hand and his own sword with his left. He rarely wielded two weapons but thought this was about as good a time as any.
“Why fondle those,” a voice whispered in his ear, the breath caressing the tip with a scent of lavender, “when you can fondle this.”
An unseen hand grabbed Kharisi’s wrist forcing him to drop his weapon, and he then felt his hand being moved back and forth between a woman’s legs. It had been a while since he last felt that, but it was a sensation he’d not forgotten. He felt another hand grope his hardness, sliding their soft hands up and down. It was only when Da’Nel’s dagger arced in front of him, splashing him with blood, that he came out of his stupor.
The succubus screamed as she came into view, a long gash down her back exposing bone and tender flesh. She turned on the Druid, using her whip, and snapping it. Da’Nel moved quickly and as he gained her attention, Kharisi thrust his sword into her. Blood spurted as the tip came through her front between two impossibly large breasts (which Todrick all but drooled over). As Kharisi pulled it out, Da’Nel grabbed the ax from the ground and chopped off her head. Blood flew from the stump in a geyser, bouncing the freed head at the top of it for a moment before it fell to the ground with a sickening thump. Kharisi raised his foot high and brought it down with all the force he could muster until nothing remained of it but the goo on the bottom of his boot.
“Ewww,” Jeremiah said, his stomach rolling a bit.
“Such a shame,” Todrick said with uncharacteristic wistfulness. “She had such nice tits.”
Jaxon, dressed once again, walked with shame over to Kharisi. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
“Do not trouble yourself, it was the succubus. Can you carry on?”
Jaxon nodded and took his position at the front. The others fell in line and they marched off again, all of them tense and their hands a hair’s breadth from their weapon.
“Todrick was right,” Saerus said with some amusement. “She did have nice tits.”
Kharisi snorted. “When have you ever seen a pair of tits?”
Saerus gave him the mental image of a middle finger and went quiet. Kharisi laughed and shook his head.
They hadn’t walked more than a few moments when Jaxon held his hand up again and they all stopped. “It’s here, somewhere, so be careful where you...” Before he could finish the sentence, Jaxon once again fell into the same pit he had earlier that day. Jeremiah got to his feet and peered over the side. “You alright?”
Jaxon nodded, wiping mud from his ass and lighting a torch from the wall that had gone out. “Yes, now get down here.” Jeremiah jumped down, as did Kharisi, then Da’Nel who was still spry for his age. Jaxon and Jeremiah helped Todrick down, then made sure they all had torches, giving one to each as they passed them going down the hall.
As they came to the intersection, Jaxon pointed to his left, and they moved as one, shuffling along with surprising silence. As they reached the end and found the cell Kiandra was in, Da’Nel felt a pang of guilt and remorse. Even though she and Petram feigned dislike for one another, he knew that was a cover-up for their true feelings. He remembered how she felt when Kiandra lost her hand and could only imagine what she’d feel when she learned about Petram. Da’Nel moved his way past the others and up to the front of the cage. Kiandra was laying where Jaxon had left her, eyes closed, her lips cracked and bleeding. Her breathing was so shallow most would have assumed she was dead.
Da’Nel wasn’t most people, however, and he slid his hand between the bars and placed it on her forehead, while whispered an incantation. His hand gave off a soothing yellow glow and after a moment Kiandra opened her eyes.
As her vision focused, and she began to make sense of what she was seeing, Kiandra smiled. “You pointy-eared cunt, good to see you.”
“And you, taking a nap! Lazy whore!” he said, and they both laughed. Da’Nel touched the lock, and the door opened. The others backed up so she could get out.
“Petram?” she called out, and when she looked at Da’Nel, she knew everything she needed to know, and tears began to take shape in the corner of her large brown eyes. “What happened?” she asked, voice a mere whisper.
“Now isn’t the time,” Kharisi said, “let’s get out of here first.”
“Another elf? Why am I so fucking lucky? You quiet that hole before I do it for ya, understand?”
“Kiandra,” Da’Nel said with some warmth and a bit of force, “Kharisi is right, we need to get out of here. We killed countless Wilderen, but there are most likely many more. We need to leave.”
“We have to destroy this place, so they can’t get to the surface again.”
Da’Nel nodded. “We will, I’ve already thought about that, now get your big ass in gear and let’s go.”
Kiandra nodded, and they all returned the way they came.
“That was almost too easy,” Jaxon said, climbing out of the pit, and helping Kiandra out.
As they all reached the surface, Todrick being assisted once more, Da’Nel and the wizard motioned for the others to step back. They stood opposite once another on each side of the hole and began their recitations. A dark red smoke issued from Da’Nel’s fingers while a blue and green cloud issued forth from Todrick’s. The clouds traveled throughout the hole, and when the two were done, he motioned for the others to follow, and they hid behind the trunk of a tree.
Da’Nel gave one final word, and the ground began shaking. The hole began to fill itself in as they heard screams from below become muffled from the dirt clogging their mouths. As the underground cave imploded a long crack in the earth began to form, widening and growing faster as the destruction beneath increased. “Run!” Da’Nel shouted, and no one needed to be told twice. Jaxon again led the way, this time to the castle, as Jeremiah and Kharisi helped Kiandra move along. Kharisi was surprised by her strength and resilience and wondered if he’d have to reevaluate his thoughts about dwarves.
The group dashed through the grass and between trees until the sound of the ground breaking lessened, and only when it ceased did they begin to slow down and catch their breath. Kiandra was the first to stop as she bent over, one hand on her knee trying to catch her breath, Da’Nel placed a hand on her back and her breathing eased considerably. Todrick, though old and near the end of his life kept up well with the others, in spite of the sweat pouring off his balding head and down his face.
Kharisi looked up at the sky and saw the first traces of light beginning to make their way into the darkness, and when he looked down, he saw shadows far stronger than what should have been. He turned around in a circle, then stopped, as his mouth hung open in disbelief.
In the distance, he could see the fires in the town he’d called home still burning, and brighter than ever.
34: Assault on Tulan
“My town, my people,” Saerus said, deep-rooted sorrow staining his voice like black ink. Kiandra showed no signs of being surprised when she heard a strange voice coming out of Kharisi’s mouth.
“Petram said there was trouble, but I never expected this,” she said, rubbing her bandaged stump with her good hand.
“No one did, not even me, and it’s my twin at fault. And mine for not seeing it.”
“No one could have known, as you said,” Kharisi added.
“I should have!”
Kiandra then took notice of the different voices and found it more amusing than intimidating. “You arguing with yourself? Are ya going mad?”
“I’m stuck in Kharisi’s mind, also the fault of my twin.”
“I’m sorry, that cannot be a very nice place.”
Kharisi frowned. “You’re as rude as Petram, now I know where he got it from.”
“Enough,” Da’Nel said, “we’ll make camp
and plot our next course.”
“That seems pretty obvious,” Jeremiah said. “We kill everyone in our way who defends that imposter.”
“If you’re feeling suicidal,” Jaxon replied. “Going head-on will be a sure way for all of us to get killed.”
“We can sneak in through the dragon’s cave.”
“You are mad!” Kiandra said, shaking her head in disbelief.
Da’Nel went to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “That may be the safest way though.” He then produced his book and began to walk off.
“Da’Nel,” Kharisi called out to the druid who turned to look at him. “No more sacrifices, we can’t afford to lose anyone else.”
“Not if I can help it, but there’s one other thing we need to do.”
“Only one?” Jaxon said, tongue firmly in his cheek.
Da’Nel ignored the remark and continued. “We need to save the townspeople, help those who are injured, as well as get survivors to safety.”
“Safety? Where would that be?”
“By the dragon’s cave. Not in it, but by it. There’s no telling what his mood will be, and I do not want to risk lives needlessly.”
“What about here in the woods?” Jeremiah asked, not relishing the thought of innocents so close to a hungry dragon.
“I don’t think we’ve seen the last of the Wilderen, in fact, I’m almost sure of it. They’re far more dangerous to them than Toryan.”
“How do you know there’s more?” Kiandra said with suspicion.
“Feel the ground, you can pick up the vibration of their drums. The same rhythm that lulled us into stupors back in the cavern.”
“Well, that’s all we need,” Kharisi said shaking his head with disbelief and weariness. “any good news?”
Da’Nel shrugged. “If we get killed, it will at least be quick.”
“What does your book say? Any helpful hints? Any insights on what to do?”
“Nothing,” Da’Nel shot back with an unexpected abruptness. “It’s done enough, the rest is up to us.”
The others nodded, and once they’d had a quick meal, they were ready to set off again.
“Who is going where?” Jeremiah asked.
“Considering Saerus is with me, my going to the castle is a given. As it is with Da’Nel.”
“And me,” Todrick said.
“No, you can do more by healing those who need it,” Saerus said. “I do not wish to lose you. Take Jeremiah and Kiandra with you. Jaxon is with myself and Da’Nel.”
“Over my dead body am I not going with ye,” Kiandra said, puffing up her already ample chest to preposterous proportions.
“He’s right,” Da’Nel said, “you would be better with helping the others. You’ve given enough, and I will not ask more of you than this.” Kiandra was about to interrupt when Da’Nel continued on. “No argument, you won’t win it. In fact, you should go now, and get a head start. You may be a distraction enough for us to get to the entrance.” Da’Nel straightened up and looked at everyone. His gaze was piercing and exuded strength. “We do not know who is going to be against us, but we have to be prepared that it may be family or friends. Do not hesitate to draw your swords. Know that we have a duty to protect the crown and its citizens. Stay strong, stay alert, and stay alive.”
Without another word, Kiandra, Todrick and Jeremiah left the camp, heads high and shoulders squared.
That left Da’Nel, Kharisi, and Jaxon to stoke the embers and give them a head start. Da’Nel started a small fire and began heating some crushed beans, leaves and water in a small pot. The smell of bitter root and chocolate filled Kharisi’s nostrils, and he’d forgotten just how much he missed simple things like hot drinks. Jaxon seemed indifferent; no doubt his time as a guard had all but ruined his palette given what they had to eat in the barracks. Da’Nel added some other spices into the pot, stirred some more and then gave some to Kharisi whose cup was at the ready.
“Smells divine,” Saerus said, wishing he could taste it himself and not just get Kharisi’s thoughts about it.
Da’Nel offered some to Jaxon who waved it away, content to sit by the fire and stare into the flames.
Kharisi sipped carefully and smacked his lips. “That is exactly what I needed,” he said.
“What you need is a bath,” Saerus countered. “You are getting rather pungent.”
“You never complained before,” he told Saerus.
“Disgusting, that’s all you are, is disgusting.”
Jaxon looked with curiosity at Kharisi and then over to Da’Nel. “Ever wish you could hear both sides of their conversations?”
“Not for one minute,” Da’Nel answered without skipping a beat.
“Yeah,” Jaxon said, “me neither.”
“Da’Nel,” Saerus said, ignoring their banter for the moment, “do you know how I’m going to get out of Kharisi’s body?”
Da’Nel shook his head. “Vague ideas, nothing more. I need to consult the book further, but pointless to do that until everything’s done and...”
“... and we see who’s still standing,” Saerus finished.
“Your words, not mine.”
Kharisi finished the rest of his drink, rinsed his cup out and put it away. “I think they’ve had enough of a head start, we might as well take our leave.” Jaxon and Da’Nel nodded. As they took the final leg forward onto their destiny, none of them knew if they’d even live to see the sun again.
“If things get bad, I mean we’re about to lose everything, what about Toryan?” Jaxon asked, though he knew the answer already, he couldn’t help but have a little hope.
“Toryan, more than anything is a dragon, and one with magic far more powerful than my own. It should be no surprise that the book I write in was created by him.”
Kharisi stopped and whistled. “It shouldn’t be, but it is. And why I never thought of that makes me feel even more foolish.”
“Why?” Saerus asked for all to hear. “Up until now, you thought it was a book from the Ancient Elven races, not a dragon.”
“Which would mean, that the elves were actually descendants, or relations to the dragons somehow.”
“Neither is relevant,” Da’Nel said, somewhat snappish, “now let’s pick up the pace.”
The trio said nothing until they reached the outskirts of Tulan. Then they could say nothing because what they saw was unspeakable. Even worse was the smell. Not just the bubbling and blistering people, but the livestock as well. It was as if something had decided to annihilate everything it saw. Da’Nel swallowed hard as his face turned ashen. Kharisi covered his nose and held back the urge to gag, while Jaxon stood there, shocked to the point of immobility.
From the north and the direction of the castle were the last remaining guards, bloody, worn out, and near death. Accompanying them were guards who, by all appearances had been raised from the dead. No corpse seemed to be left to waste. Those with missing limbs, guts spilling out, were swinging their swords, hammers, and axes for all they were worth. As the carnage began to create even more, pools of blood began reaching out to one another turning the ground into a crimson swamp.
Da’Nel inched forward and motioned for the others to stay where they were. He wiped some sweat from his eyes with the palm of his hand, then muttered an unintelligible incantation across his open palm. A small dark cloud began to form, and he blew it into the sky. As it gravitated upwards it became even darker, and Kharisi could see sparks and small bolts of lightning, illuminating it. Da’Nel waved his hand towards the fighting and the cloud followed his direction. When it was directly above, the bolts flew out of it fast and furious. When the first bolt hit, the corpse was attempting to rape a young woman who was frozen with fear. A loop of intestine hid the dead man’s erection, which is where the lightning struck. It let out a scream, giving the girl time enough to break out of her paralysis and run away. The charge ran through his body, burning and cooking him from the inside out. The smell of simmering meat began to perme
ate the air, as other bolts of lightning found their victims and did the same to them.
Yet even as they fell to the ground for the second time, they got right back up and continued to pillage the village, this time with even more ferocity. Da’Nel uttered a few curses under his breath and opened his book. Already lightheaded from the blood loss required to get this far, he nevertheless spilled more onto the page, and the book slammed shut on its own accord. As the thundercloud continued, those that had already been struck and were smoking like a dying campfire, went rigid, then began to split apart as if an unseen butcher was slicing them to be sold at the market.
Jaxon turned his head away, unable to abide the smell or the view. Kharisi gave him a comforting pat on the back, telling him, everything would be okay. Yet, even as he said that he knew it was probably a lie. At the sound of a snapping twig, he turned and saw a group of Wilderen standing behind them, spears in hand, teeth-gnashing, and murder in their hearts.
35: A Return to the Dancing Rooster
It was Jeremiah’s idea to enter town from the farthest entrance from the castle, and that proved to be the right plan. The main street was deserted, even the dead bodies were few and far between.
“They must have run towards the castle, poor bastards,” Todrick said, nudging a dead body with one foot. As he did so, the stomach of the corpse began to bulge, almost resembling an expectant mother. A rat’s head gnawed through the flesh and then the cloth covering it before looked around. It licked the blood from its claws and wiped its whiskers when its coal-black eyes spotted the trio. It let out a squeak and popped back into the hole it had made and continued feasting. Todrick grimaced, pointed at the raw and ragged orifice and a flash of fire, followed by the rat’s final shocked squeak.
Kiandra gave a slight tug on his sleeve and they got moving again. They zig-zagged from building to building looking for survivors, but they were either empty or filled with the dead. As they approached a small house, no more than a shack really, Jeremiah heard a faint cry for help. He ran to the house and saw the front door was hanging on a hinge. He pushed it out of the way and called out.
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