There was a muffled sound of a child’s voice, but they couldn’t tell where it came from.
“Where are ya?” Kiandra shouted.
Another muffled answer that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. “Start looking through everything, Jeremiah you go upstairs.,” she said pointing at a set of rickety wooden steps that looked ready to cave in on itself. He knew better than to argue with her and made his way to the second floor with as much caution as he could muster. Todrick was looking in the kitchen area, while Kiandra searched the living room. Neither of them came up with anything.
“Ya find anything?” Kiandra yelled up to Jeremiah. When there was no reply, Todrick tried, though his voice was far quieter and much frailer than Kiandra’s. Still, Jeremiah didn’t respond.
Cursing under her breath, Kiandra started to climb the dozen or so steps, careful to avoid the nails that seemed to pop out from the wood in the oddest of places. Todrick followed behind, producing his wand from his voluminous sleeve.
“Jeremiah?” she called out, “Where’d you get to?” It was a silly question as aside from the short hallway, there was only one door, opened a crack at the very end. Kiandra waited for Todrick and shoulder to shoulder they crept to the open door. Todrick kept the wand held out before him, as Kiandra gripped the handle of her dagger.
They tiptoed forward as the muffled voice called for help again, and they were sure it was behind the door. Todrick reached out with a shaky, arthritis gnarled hand to pull the door, and was slammed to the ground as something small, sharp and mean ran out at him. Kiandra swung her dagger at it and missed, and in the split second it took her to turn after it, whatever it was, had gone. She went over to Todrick and helped him up, as he brushed the dust off his robe.
“I’m fine,” he snapped, “look for the boy!”
Kiandra grunted and gave him a look that would wither anyone else. Once she stepped over the threshold into the small bedroom, she saw Jeremiah slumped on one of the two single beds, with small tracks of blood running from his mouth. She took one hand and felt for a pulse in his wrist, and while she found one it was faint and unenthusiastic. “I need your help in here,” she called out, and Todrick rushed in and took the boy's hand from her. With his own free hand, he touched the tip of the wand against the boy's temple and then moved it to his forehead and drew a rune.
Todrick could feel the pulse gaining strength, and after a moment, Jeremiah opened his eyes and sat up, legs dangling off the edge of the straw mattress. “What happened?” he asked.
“You don’t remember?” Kiandra asked.
Jeremiah shook his head. “No. I came into the room, thought I saw someone cowering under the blanket and the next thing I remember is waking up to see you two.”
“Do you feel okay?” Todrick asked, releasing the boy’s wrist, and placing the back of his hand against his brow.
“Yes, Never better,” he said, standing up.
“Right,” Kiandra said, “whatever that thing was that called out to us obviously wanted us in here. We need to look for it while we do what we came here for. I think, if we can, the Inn should be our base. Plenty of room and food. Not to mention ale to dull the pains.”
Todrick and Jeremiah nodded in agreement with the plan, and they followed Kiandra down the stairs. As she set a foot on the floor, she stopped without warning, holding up her arm with the missing hand. “Your wand, Wizard, give it here,” her voice was low and steady, but Todrick detected the slightest tinge of fear. He was almost halfway up the staircase, behind the other two, and couldn’t see what Kiandra saw.
“Know how to use one do you?” he asked, handing it over to Jeremiah who then gave it to the one-handed dwarf.
“I fuckin’ hope so.” She replied, and with a quick whip-like motion she flicked the wand towards the living area and a great, gout of flame came pouring forth setting the entire house on fire almost immediately. “Oh shit,” she said, “Run to the front door, and hurry!”
Neither of the others needed any other inspiration than the sheer panic in her voice, and they ran out and followed her down the street, making their way to the Inn.
Getting closer to the Castle.
As Kiandra was about to warn the others about not turning around and to keep running, Jeremiah did just that and stopped in his tracks.
“By the Queen's tits,” he said, unable to believe even his own eyes. He’d seen a great many things both amazing and grotesque, but nothing like what he was seeing at that moment. Running after the trio at full speed was an infant. He, maybe she, Jeremiah couldn’t tell, as it was wearing the skin from someone’s face as a diaper. There was a hole in its abdomen big enough to see through, in spite of the entrails spilling from it and flapping in the wind. It clutched dinner knives in each hand and they were held up as if ready to bring them down into a thick piece of meat, or someone’s body. Its mouth was wide open and filled with fangs glistening with blood, some of which was flowing out and coating the child's chin. The scream it emitted was ghastly and otherworldly. Jeremiah’s bladder let loose, but he didn’t notice. As it gained on him, he heard Kiandra call his name but he couldn’t move, afraid to take his eyes off the thing chasing them. He fumbled for his weapon as the baby leaped impossibly high and headed straight for him. As it came down, and got close enough for Jeremiah to smell its fetid breath and soiled diaper, an eruption of flame streamed past him, singeing the hair on the side of his head, and torched the child, as well as sending it back the way it came. Jeremiah had enough time to hear its skin begin to crackle, before Kiandra slapped him hard across the face, leaving an imprint of her hand.
“Move your ass!” she screamed at him while pulling his arm. Jeremiah watched the child bounce on the road several times before finally coming to a stop, smoke still wafting from its charred skin. He turned on his heel and ran once more. As they got closer to the Inn, the dead bodies they saw grew exponentially. Kiandra at first thought she was hallucinating, when several of the bodies seemed to be moving, or trying to.
“Burn them!” she said.
“What if they’re still alive? We came to help not hurt.”
“These bastards are long since dead, but something is bringing them to life, now burn the damned things!”
Todrick aimed his wand at the corpses they ran by, setting them aflame one by one as if lighting candles in the church. With each body he lit, came a scream, as they tried to roll and put out the flames, but were too weak to do so. As he looked up, he saw the signage for The Dancing Rooster and relief swept through him. Seeing the soon to be refuge gave him a second wind, and he was able to sprint ahead to the front door and open it for the others.
As they ran inside, Todrick slammed it shut and with great haste sealed it with magic. The Inn was quiet, a bit too quiet for Kiandra’s liking, but she was exhausted and her only thought was to plop down in a chair and catch her breath. Jeremiah had already claimed a seat by the window so he could monitor what was happening outside.
“What now?” Todrick asked, taking a seat at the table with Kiandra.
Kiandra closed her eyes for a moment and thought about the question. “The first thing is to see if anyone’s here. It seems pretty empty for an Inn. I can’t imagine everyone simply left.” She turned to Jeremiah who was still staring intently out the front window. “Why not get us a drink Jeremiah, we could all use one.”
He didn’t reply but got up and went to the bar, grabbing a bottle and pouring three glasses of ale. He brought them over to the table and sat with the others but positioned his chair so he could still have a bit of a view out the window.
“What are you looking for?” Todrick asked.
“Trouble,” he said, voice soft and vulnerable.
Kiandra gave out a short bark of a laugh. “Ha! No need to look for it, it finds us easy enough.” She then lifted the glass to her lips and drained half before letting out perhaps the loudest belch any of them had ever heard.
“I’m going to check out the rest o
f the place, see if anyone or anything is here,” Todrick said, standing slowly, allowing the aches in his back to dictate how fast he rose.
“We should probably stick together,” she said, draining the rest of her ale and wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her shirt.
“You two go, I’ll keep a lookout.” No sooner had he said that when the window came crashing in, sending glass everywhere, and throwing Jeremiah out of his seat.
They heard the same wailing scream as in the house, and all their faces went white. Kiandra had her dagger out and Todrick’s arm was pointed out, wand at the ready.
In the middle of the room, rising into the air was the infant once more. Almost all of his body had been burned, to the point bone was visible in different areas. including part of his skull. Both eye sockets were empty, the contents having exploded from the heat. As it rose higher, it also seemed to grow bigger until it was the size of an adult human when its head touched the ceiling. Jeremiah crawled on his hands and knees to the others, determined to fight with them, and destroy this thing once and for all.
Or die trying, he thought.
36: An Uneasy Truce
Jaxon, Kharisi, and Da’Nel all put their hands in the air, to show they meant no harm. There was a murmuring among the Wilderen and they parted, allowing the eldest Wilderen through.
His skin was like bark, and his hair a tangled mass of twigs and dead leaves. Kharisi thought he was wearing a wooden mask, but it turned out to be his actual face, deep crags, gouges, sap and all. The Elder shook his totemic staff then pointed it at Kharisi and seemed to be motioning him forward. He looked to Jaxon and Da’Nel who stood on either side of him, and they both made the slightest of motions with their heads to do what the Elder wanted.
Kharisi cleared his throat and took several tentative steps forward, lowering his arms as he did so. The Wilderen pointed his staff at Kharisi’s head and slowly brought the staff down. As he did so, Kharisi also began to lower himself until he was on his knees. The Elder then walked up to him so they could look one another in the eye. With great caution, but even greater confidence, the Elder reached out and touched Kharisi’s temple, and they both closed their eyes.
Saerus watched and felt this all with interest, and when he saw the Elder appear out of nowhere, he wasn’t the least bit surprised. Saerus waved his hand in the darkness to create a more inviting environment. Saerus sat on the ground, and the Elder in a wooden chair facing him.
“You are the leader, the one responsible for the destruction of my people, the one who summoned a dragon.”
Saerus thought about his response with the greatest of care before answering. “I am the leader of my people. I did help in the destruction of your people,” he was tempted to add, “Out of self-defense,” but opted not to start an argument which it surely would have. “I did not summon the dragon, though I did and do approve of its appearance.”
The Elder squinted, staring deep into Saerus’ blue eyes. “You seem to speak the truth,” he said. “Listening is as important, and I wonder how well you do that?” The Wilderen said this more to himself than Saerus, but Saerus said nothing anyway. “For many generations, your people and mine have been able to live together, side by side with no clashes. Things were peaceful.”
“I had no idea you still existed, I thought you were like the Earthen Elves and had vanished, or gone extinct. Not until we were attacked did we even know you flourished.”
The Elder looked confused, then laughed. “Like the Earthen Elves? We ARE the Earthen Elves. What is left of us.” There was a wave of simmering anger and bitterness to the last sentence that Saerus didn’t care for. However, it was his turn to look confused.
“We’ve been traveling with one, and he said he’s the last of the Earthen Elves.”
The Elder shook his head from side to side slowly and deliberately. “No, he is not of us.”
“Then what is he?” Saerus asked.
“A deceiver. A trickster. A devil.”
“Impossible!” Saerus said this with such defiance and denial, that it took the Elder by surprise. “He’s done nothing but help all along the way!”
The Wilderen smiled, but it was one fraught with sadness and a bitter knowing. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. And he will continue to do so until it no longer helps him.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
The Elder slammed his staff on the unseen ground and it shook with his anger. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“What is that supposed to mean, we were never your enemy.”
The Elder sighed and shook his head. “That remains to be seen, but Da’Nel is an age-old enemy of my people, and also one of yours, though it seems your knowledge of your own people’s history is nothing more substantial than the dust in the air. He is a dragonkin. A shapeshifter of immense ability.”
Saerus stepped back as if being punched, and it felt that way to him certainly. While his first instinct was to not believe the Elder, after all, why should he? Yet there was something in him that was telling him what he said was true.
“What do you think Kharisi? I know you’re listening.”
Kharisi came out from the shadows of his own mind and joined the conversation. He gave a small bow to the Elder as an act of respect and turned to Saerus. “He did kill Petram,” he said.
“That has bothered me ever since it happened. It seemed out of character, no matter his reasoning or logic.”
“Let’s be honest, we know nothing about him, the only ones who do are Petram and Kiandra, and we saw what happened to them.”
“Yes, well she’s still alive thanks to him.”
Kharisi looked over to the Elder as Saerus spoke, his eyes narrowing, as his blood began to boil.
“No thanks to them,” he said, staring down the Elder. The Wilderen didn’t back down. If anything he seemed to grow in stature.
“She was to be used to lure him, we had no intention of killing her ourselves.”
Kharisi started to open his mouth, and Saerus quickly pulled him aside, to keep him from saying something they would all regret. “Now is not the time,” he told the elf. “Please, let me finish this, and we’ll deal with the results when we can. There are more important things at the moment.” He then leaned in and kissed Kharisi, neither of whom expected the small act of tenderness. “I do love you, you hot-blooded elf. Now go,” Kharisi smiled and dissipated back into the darkness of his thoughts once more.
If the Elder had any reaction to the kiss, Saerus couldn’t tell, and the Wilderen said nothing of it, anyway. “Here is what I propose,” he said.
“I’m listening.”
“We will help you, we will restore your kingdom, so long as you let us deal with the dragonkin.”
Though he wasn’t there, he heard Kharisi’s thoughts about it, and they seemed to match his own. “And you will no longer attack our people as they travel?”
“We only wish to live as we always have, amongst ourselves, away from others.”
“Agreed then.” Saerus got on his knees and held his hand out palm up. The Elder placed his hand on Saerus’ palm down and a truce was formed.
In the time it took to blink, Saerus found himself back in the forest, looking through Kharisi’s eyes once more.
The Wilderen and their Elder were gone.
“By the Queen’s...” Jaxon said before trailing off, the surprise of seeing a tribe of Wilderen vanish before his very eyes turned to fear, as now they could be anywhere.
Kharisi stood, unblinking. Afraid to turn around, certain Da’Nel would read his face, would know what’s been the topic of conversation.
“You alright?” Jaxon called out.
Kharisi closed his eyes, took a deep breath and gave a ragged exhale before he answered. “Yes, I’m fine, we need to get going.”
“But the Wilderen...” Jaxon began only to have Kharisi cut him off.
“They won't be a problem. Not in the immediate future at the least.”
&n
bsp; “And why is that?” Da’Nel asked. His tone was of mild curiosity, and if there were anything beneath it, Kharisi couldn’t tell.
“Because...” Kharisi started before stopping himself. Cursing himself for almost giving it away.
“Because why?” Da’Nel said.
Kharisi turned on his heel and looked to the traitor, and through gritted teeth said, “Just because.”
Jaxon and Da’Nel exchanged looks but said nothing. Kharisi took long strides between the two as he headed off to Tulan to finish everything once and for all.
“Calm yourself,” Saerus said, forming images of their brief kiss just moments before. That seemed to relax Kharisi whose strides became shorter and less angry. “We’ll worry about Da’Nel later, right now we have other things to do.”
“You’re right,” Kharisi said under his breath.
As the smell of burning grew stronger, the trio knew they were getting closer to town. Kharisi stopped for a moment and let the other two catch up to him. “We’re almost there,” he said, stating the obvious, as all their noses began to twitch from the smell. “We’ll enter from the farthest part of town, I’m sure that’s what Kiandra and the others would have done. With luck, we can find them and find out what’s going on there.”
Jaxon and Da’Nel nodded their agreement, and they started their trek again. When they caught the first glimpse of the castle, they adjusted their direction, heading to the farthest part of town, the slums.
“Hear that?” Kharisi said, pausing for a moment.
“I don’t hear anything,” Jaxon said.
“Exactly. I’d have expected to hear something. Anything. Screams, fighting, yelling. But there’s nothing. Not even a wet fart.”
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