“That’s good though, right? I mean no fighting is a good thing.” Jaxon said almost relieved.
“Or it could mean everyone’s dead,” Da’Nel added.
Jaxon looked at him, eyes wide, and on the verge of tears. “Impossible.” He said.
“Nothing is impossible, Jaxon, have you not seen that for yourself?” Kharisi asked.
Kharisi started moving again, and they wound their way around the town, until they came to the southernmost tip, and entered the town proper.
37: Ships in the Night
“Fuck me...” Jeremiah gasped as he stared up at the burned to a crisp man-sized infant. Todrick stepped in front of him, in an attempt to shield him, though he knew it would make no difference. Kiandra approached it with her typical lack of caution, and it did nothing, not even so much as offer her a glance. Though its eyes were gone, the way its head was positioned, and lack of movement gave it a hollow feel.
“Whatever’s manipulating it, isn’t paying attention,” Todrick said. “It’s preoccupied.”
“Now’s our chance!” Kiandra shouted. At the sound of her voice, the infant rolled onto its back, lifted its legs up and shot out a thin stream of pungent green baby shit. Jeremiah and Todrick were able to dive out of the way and avoid being splattered, but Kiandra wasn’t so lucky. As it continued to spray out of the charred bottom, it giggled loud enough to make the building shake. Chairs and tables moved, some falling over, bottles, mugs and other ceramics flew off the shelves behind the bar creating a mixture of sharp pieces and potent drink. Kiandra lost her balance and fell into a puddle of the foulness and took several times before she was able to get to her feet once more. When she did, Kiandra was covered from head to toe in the excrement, and it took everything in her power not to wretch. Instead, she raised her ax in the air, closed one eye as if gauging distance and then threw it at the monstrosity. It buried itself in between the cheeks, the tip of the ax wedging itself into the opening, cutting off the stream of waste.
The shock and pain were enough to break its concentration, and it tumbled to the floor, breaking its fall on a large round table. It splintered without any effort under the weight and several pieces lodged into the creature. The trio wasted no time and launched themselves at the prone figure, Kiandra grabbed the handle of her ax and pulled up on it, rending the flesh and separating what was left of its scrotum. Jeremiah plunged his sword into its chest, above the hole in its abdomen, as Todrick tried to freeze it in place.
It lay still, and as the threesome began to relax and let their guard down, it broke the ice restraining it and kicked out, sending Kiandra and Todrick flying back, breaking through the banister leading to the second floor and crashing onto the stairs. It slapped Jeremiah away as if he were a fly and he crashed into the stools and bar, his back hitting the edge of it with such force he heard bones break.
Todrick and Kiandra moved down the stairs, keeping a wary eye on it, as they made their way to Jeremiah who lay on the floor unconscious. It snarled at them, letting out a cry of pain as it moved in their direction. Each step of its foot caused everything to shake again, though not as violently. Todrick waved his wand to create a pool of glue on the floor to slow the monster down, but he was too weak and exhausted to do much of anything, and nothing happened.
As the animated, enlarged corpse moved closer, the shaking increased, knocking Kiandra and Todrick off balance. Jeremiah was only a step or two away from being crushed underfoot. As the shadow of said foot crossed the young man’s face, the front doors blew in as if a bomb hit them, and Kharisi, Jaxon and Da’Nel crashed through the debris, catching everyone by surprise. Da’Nel quickly raised his hands, fingers forked and pointing at the monster. He uttered an incantation, and the thing began shrinking down to normal size, its skin drying out, then flaking off as if it were a mummy being exposed to the sun.
“Nicely done!” Todrick said, impressed by the spell.
Da’Nel went to Jeremiah’s aid, as Kharisi smashed the remains underfoot until nothing was left but powder and dust. He then turned to Kiandra who was still covered in the dead thing’s shit, and Todrick who could barely stand.
“I sent you to help people, and look what happens,” he chided playfully.
“I’M IN NO MOOD ELF,” Kiandra said, the scowl under the drying shit saying it all. Kharisi muttered a quiet apology and took Todrick by the arm, helping him to a chair that hadn’t been damaged.
“Are you okay?”
Todrick nodded with a weariness Kharisi had never seen in the mage. “I’m too old for this,” he said without a hint of irony.
“You’re too old for most things,” Kharisi said. Todrick’s arm shot out and grabbed Kharisi’s ear and gave it a good twist.
“Not too old to do that!”
Kharisi cried out in surprise more than pain and rubbed the tip of his pointed ear. “Fine, I’ll remember that.”
“See that you do.”
“Can you tell me what that fucking thing was?” he asked the wizard, though Kiandra answered.
“A nightmare,” she said and explained what had happened since they’d gotten into town. As she began to wind down, Jeremiah regained his consciousness and thanks to Da’Nel’s ministrations had nothing more than bruises and pain.
“Have you seen anyone?” Da’Nel asked, and the three shook their heads.
“Should we split up again?” Kiandra asked.
Kharisi shook his head. “I see no point. I say we march right into the castle.”
“And what if it’s a trap?” Jaxon asked looking behind the bar for an unbroken bottle of something, anything, to soothe his nerves.
“Well, of course, it is,” Kharisi snapped. “Wherever we go is going to be a trap. Traps are made to be slipped out of, the way your clothes are when you're about to bed someone.”
Kiandra looked at him and clenched her remaining fist. “Fuck’s sake, just shut up for once, will you?”
Kharisi made a face as he caught wind of her smell. “I’m not the one covered in shit,” he said.
Da’Nel drew a sigil in the air over Kiandra’s head, and the green waste began evaporating until there was nothing left but the lingering odor.
“I’m glad you’re all okay, and much as I’d like to rest, we still have a way to go before we can relax.” He stood and grabbed Jeremiah by the shoulders. In spite of all he’d been through, he showed nothing but fierce determination, as did all of them as he looked around.
“Ready or not, here we go!” Kharisi shouted and headed to the remains of the front door. The others followed, albeit a bit more slowly and subdued.
“Are you sure this is how you want to do it?” Saerus asked.
“Whatever is in control of the castle, still knows you, and may very well know your thoughts, so I see no use in hiding now. Besides the Wilderen said they would help.”
“And where are they?”
“Close,” Kharisi said, breathing deep, allowing the smoke to burn his nostrils and lungs. “I can sense them, watching. Waiting.”
“And what about Da’Nel?”
“When he shows his hand, we can pounce.”
Saerus sighed, unable to hide his worry and fear. “Saerus, I’ve gotten us this far, and I will keep my word to you. Everything I do is for you.” He closed his eyes for a moment and remembered the kiss that already seemed too long ago. Saerus washed Kharisi’s thoughts with his love, and when the elf opened his eyes, his compatriots were standing around him.
Kharisi drew out his sword and pointed in the direction of the castle, “Come, we have a throne to retake.” No verbose yelling, or platitudes. A simple statement infused with his love for Saerus, and the hope they didn’t die.
They walked, shoulder to shoulder down the main street, passing the burned-out stores and homes. Flames still smoldered in crevices and unseen places, but the damage had been done. The silence still worried Kharisi and it unnerved him more than anything else. As they stepped over the bodies and tried to avoid the
pools of congealing blood, the castle gates came into sight. Not only was the iron gate unattended, but it was also open.
“This should never be,” Jaxon said.
“And yet it is,” Kharisi said. “When is a trap not a trap, Jaxon?”
“When it looks too obvious?”
“Correct.”
“But what if that’s the trap’s design? To make it look like an obvious trap so you think it isn’t one?” Jeremiah asked.
“He’s got a point,” Kiandra said.
Kharisi stopped for a moment, giving this thought. “You very well could be right, Jeremiah, but I don’t think so. What do you say Da’Nel?” When there was no response, he looked to where Da’Nel had been standing and found he’d gone.
Vanished into thin air.
38: Denouement
“Don’t worry about him just yet. Focus on the castle,” Saerus said. Kharisi could hear him pacing back and forth in his head, and the noise started to give him a headache. He rubbed his temples and continued to the castle gates.
“Where’d he slink off to?” Kiandra said, not surprised in the least he’d disappeared.
Kharisi shrugged. “We’ll find out,” he said, and then added under his breath, “one way or another.”
There was a sense of hopelessness that draped them without Da’Nel there. Deep down, each expected him to be the one to take care of things, to turn the tide and to win this battle. Without him, they all felt they were facing their own deaths. Even Kharisi had his doubts, but there was no backing out now. He stopped once again, and turned to his friends, for that’s what they’d all become, even Kiandra. “If any of you want to turn back, I don’t blame you. Each of you has given more than I could ask for; sacrificed yourselves on Saerus’ behalf. I’ve no idea where Da’Nel went or why. I do believe he’ll be there when we need him, I do not believe he deserted us. It’s our turn now, we can do this, we’re the craftiest fuckers known to this world. Together we can move mountains.”
“Ye never shut your maw do you?” Kiandra said with something close to a smile. “Move your ass Elf, we have things to kill.” The others nodded in agreement, despite whatever hesitancy they may have felt. Kharisi smiled, turned back around and led them to the gates.
The lever that was used to raise and lower the gate was jammed with an unidentified body part. Kharisi couldn’t tell if it was an arm or a leg, or even if it had been shoved in the geas on purpose. There were certainly enough severed limbs to choose from laying on the ground, some still twitching from the magic that had resurrected them.
“Come, I’ve been waiting.” A voice boomed out, sending Kharisi to knees in pain, clutching at his head. He was sure it was going to explode. Saerus yelled out as well, feeling the same pain as Kharisi, his eyes filling with bloody tears. “Is that my dear, dear brother?”
“It’s not the pig that you fuck,” Saerus spat back.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you again.” The voice said almost on the verge of orgasm at the thought. “That’s if my defenders don’t do it first.”
Even as Offa was saying this, the dismembered limbs, dead bodies and those still living but in thrall to their new master started to close in on the group. Kiandra wasted no time and began swinging her ax, and the others followed suit. Todrick gained a second wind, the fury at seeing what his beloved castle had turned into, provided the strength to set things aflame once more. Even on fire the limbs and the dead kept coming, as soon as one would go down, three more would pop up like the jester’s Jack-in-the-box.
“Don’t worry about killing them, we can’t. We need to kill what’s inside of the castle and break its control!” Kharisi called out to the others. Never did a minute’s walk seem so long, and so far to him, yet it proved almost impossible to go even that short distance. His arms grew weary as he swung his sword and pushed others out of the way. His eyelids wanted to shut, his body to rest, His arms began to drop to his side, and Saerus sensing he was coming under some sort of spell, yelled as loud as he could, near to bursting the elf’s eardrums in the process.
Kharisi’s eyes snapped open, and his sapped strength returned, “I owe you for that,” he told Saerus, unsure whether he meant it as a promise or a threat. As the ringing in his ears faded, he fought his way through the throng of the dead, the main doors of the castle in view and closer than ever. He looked back and saw the others were keeping up, even Todrick who was using lightning spells now.
The closer they got, the harder they swung, and all of them were covered in sweat from the exertion. None of them had ever known war in their lifetime, Kharisi excepted, and their training was about ability, not endurance.
They were close enough now Kharisi could reach out and brush his fingertips against the heavy doors. As he looked down, he saw blood pouring forth from underneath. The sight of it chilled his marrow, even as the warmth of the wrought iron circle he clutched to open the door burned his hand.
The door refused to budge, and as Kharisi pulled his hand away, strips of his skin stayed on the handle that was now glowing red. As he got ready to call for Todrick’s help, the doors blew inward with such force they came loose from the hinges that should never have come loose.
The party wasted no time and ran in over the useless doors and into the throne room. They did not get very far as Offa took up almost the entire space. At first, none of them knew quite what to make of what they saw, as they had no frame of reference for what was before them. It was very close to reaching the beamed ceiling, but the body was more of a fleshy sack made from corpses and other body parts. A multitude of eyes was scattered around the being, some blinking and moving around, others milky and blind. It reached out an arm that seemed to elongate and picked up a guard who appeared to be one of the few that were alive without having to be reanimated. The guard was lifted high in the air, hovering over an ever-widening maw that threatened to split the giant head it was a part of in two.
The guard screamed for help and pleaded for his life even as he pissed himself with fear. A tiny waterfall of urine cascaded into the open mouth, and an ungodly tongue lashed out to lick the liquid from its lips. It began to lower the guard into its mouth, slowly and dramatically, making sure all were paying attention. The bloated tongue began licking the man, his clothes ripped away from the force and strength of the tongue. As the head began to disappear, and the screams reverberated inside, a loud, familiar shout came from outside the entranceway, and two axes flew overhead, slicing through the tongue with no effort at all. The monster dropped the guard who would have most certainly died had he not bounced off the monster’s body and that softened his landing before tumbling to the floor. He scrabbled away like a crab, his mind broken by what had happened. Someone in the crowd gave him a blanket that he wrapped himself in and shoved the corner of it in his mouth.
Kharisi and the others looked back and standing there, arms folded across his chest, a proud smirk across a face that seemed to be sprouting hair was Petram. With his axes gone, he drew two daggers and ran over to Kharisi.
“I thought you were dead!” he said, eyes filling with tears.
“That’s what ya get for thinking, you pointy-eared twat. Now, let’s finish this!” Without another word, Petram charged ahead giving the most fearsome warrior’s yell anyone ever heard or would ever hear. Offa was not phased, however, and as Petram got closer, a leg shot out and kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying so high, he got stuck in one of the chandeliers.
“Well that’s typical,” Kiandra said, her eyes also filling with tears. She then looked up and shouted at him. “You can get yourself down from there, I’m not rescuing your sorry ass again!” She tried to sound angry but the relief and happiness of seeing him rang through too much.
While they were distracted by Petram at the moment, Offa slid another arm out of his corpulent, and corpusculent body, and grabbed Jeremiah by the leg, pulling him along the ground. The boy’s screams were drowned out by Kiandra’s yelling, and Petram’s demands o
f getting him down. Seeing no one was going to fly up there, Petram took one of his daggers and began cutting through the ropes that held the chandelier in place. They all watched as one by one the ropes gave way to the sharp blade. Even as Offa stretched out and grabbed Todrick and then Jaxon by the leg and began dragging them as well, no one seemed to notice.
Petram, from his vantage point, saw, and he pointed at them, and as they looked several more arms appeared from nowhere and grabbed Kharisi and Kiandra by the leg, and began dragging them. Petram began sawing even faster and started rocking the chandelier back and forth, to gather some momentum and help to snap the remaining ropes. The to and fro motion began to make him lightheaded and dizzy, but that only served to make Petram rock harder. When he felt he got to the greatest motion forward, he cut the final rope, and as he fell, launched himself forward, daggers poised to strike when he landed. Before he had a chance, he was grabbed mid-air by another arm, and all of them were now caught and flailing around in the air, as Offa waved them all as if they were flags. His laugh as he did so caused the stone of the castle to hum and vibrate. It was a low, wet sound, and as unpleasant as a laugh could be. Offa smashed Jeremiah onto the ground, and everyone heard the cracking of bones and the shortened yell of pain before he lost consciousness.
Offa stuck out what was left of his tongue, the part Petram’s axes hadn’t cut off and ran the bloody stump up and down Jaxon.
Kharisi and the others, aside from Todrick who also appeared to be on the verge of unconsciousness, began waving their weapons around, but it was a futile and energy wasting activity. “I’m sorry, Saerus, I let you down,” Kharisi said, and it broke Saerus’ heart. Not because of the death which seemed to be imminent, but the utter sorrow and regret that clung to his words.
“Don’t give up,” Saerus shouted, “don’t you dare!”
Kharisi tried to answer but as he struggled, he felt an arrow whiz by his cheek. Another grazed the top of his head, while another zoomed between his legs, which he found far too close for comfort.
Errors of the Flesh Page 24