The two combatants had something in common, McKnight realized: both were once full-blooded men of Bish. Now, though, both had been twisted by fate into something perverse and unnatural. Tonio had more humanity on his side, plus an iron will blackened with desire for vengeance, while his freakish counterpart sought only its survival, it seemed. The detective could only watch and look for an opportunity to escape. But if Tonio didn’t pull this off, they were both dead.
The spider creature began leaping toward Tonio in quick bursts, like a deer. Tonio shifted his feet, eyes focused. The creature leaped high above the warrior and dove toward him. Tonio dodged, avoiding its full weight and possibly a broken back. Tonio still went down on one knee with the blow. The creature punched him in the face, knocking him onto his back.
McKnight grimaced at the sight of Tonio’s face getting beaten in. But then, in an explosion of rage, Tonio surged back to his feet.
Wham! Wham! Wham!
As fast as Tonio had risen, he fell back to the ground even quicker. Two blows to his belly and another to his head knocked him to the dirt again.
Oh no! McKnight looked around, seeing no chance of escape, even if he could get free of his bonds.
The arachna-men in the audience were on their many legs, clamoring hard.
As McKnight shifted his gaze back to the fight, he saw the lightning-fast spider creature jab Tonio again and again, finally roaring in triumph. Now on his hands and knees, Tonio seemed no match for the beast’s power. But Tonio rose yet again, his body busted and bruised, with welts raised on his head. And then McKnight saw something he couldn’t believe: a small smile cracked across Tonio’s bloody lips. McKnight felt his heart pounding faster with inspiration. Maybe, just maybe, they still had a chance. He jerked at the cords holding him. He needed just one more chance.
As the battle intensified, the audience of arachna-men screeched with such fervor that the great tree seemed to shudder. Fire burned in Tonio’s brown eyes as he faced his assailant once more. Taking advantage of the distraction, McKnight stretched to his limit in trying to grasp the blue steel dagger that lay just out of reach. His fingers strained just inches from its hilt, but he could reach no more. Twenty feet away, the spider-creature caught sight of McKnight’s efforts and turned toward him. Thankfully Tonio seized the moment to rush it from behind, but the creature’s leap was too great, as it landed by the blade and kicked it away.
“Bone!” McKnight yelled. “Tonio! Get me a dagger! It’ll cut the webs!”
But Tonio only focused on the creature now, facing him again.
“Get the blade stuck in its back, Tonio!” McKnight shouted.
He watched as Tonio snarled, beckoning the next blows. They came in a flurry of jarring snake-like strikes. Tonio matched them blow for blow with his own ferocity. They hammered one another all over the arena with fists, knees, and elbows, each blow enough to break a lesser man’s bones.
The hulking creature shuddered under several of Tonio’s powerful blows. Its midsection cracked, and jabs into its face had shut some of its eyes. Still, it landed two blows to each one of Tonio’s. Tonio’s body was taking a beating from head to toe, and pale red blood dripped slowly from his nose and lips.
Tonio punched on until at last he sank with a gasp to both knees. He dropped his chin down as the deafening crowd jumped around with excitement. Apparently no one in the arena had witnessed a battle such as this before.
Caught up in the intensity of the battle, McKnight almost failed to notice something. The dagger he’d tried to reach earlier had been kicked almost within reach. Using the broadsword in his hand, he began to nudge the dagger his way.
The creature turned as it heard the scraping of the sword against the dagger. It rushed at him in a red blur. Sweating and quivering, McKnight hurled the sword at the creature’s chest. It dodged it with ease and the blade stuck in the ground. But McKnight had finally reached the dagger and now began slashing at the webs. The monstrosity grabbed his wrist and snapped it; the blade fell free.
“Argh!” McKnight screamed, dropping him to his knees.
It roared in his face as he spat at it. Stars exploded in his head as the spider creature punched him in the chest, snapping ribs and dislodging all his breath. He watched as it drew back its hairy red hand for a final lethal strike. At least I’ll die fighting. It pulled back its heavy arm just as the tip of a broadsword blade exploded through the front of the creature’s chest. The blade disappeared, only to emerge again through its belly and disappear again.
The creature released McKnight’s wrist in a howl of pain. It whirled on Tonio, just as the man brought the heavy blade down. The sword bit deep, almost severing the creature’s arm from the shoulder. Red and black blood now flowed like pus from its gaping wounds.
It spewed webbing onto Tonio’s sword arm, trapping it to his chest. As Tonio grasped the blade with his free hand, it also stuck, leaving him helpless.
“No, you idiot!” McKnight screamed.
The creature stumbled toward a small spear on the floor. Its dangling arm dragged wet across the wooden surface. The detective recovered the blue-bladed dagger and cut himself free. He ignored the burning pain in his chest and charged as the spider creature bent over toward the spear. McKnight jump onto its back and stabbed the blade deep into its brain. It fell to the arena floor. McKnight gasped in relief, then grasped his broken wrist and felt a surge of pain in his shattered chest—finally falling to the floor next to the dead spider monster.
Summoning his last strength, McKnight crawled over and pulled a dagger from the creature’s back. Please … no more fighting today. He stumbled to his feet and walked over to Tonio, then sliced through his bonds. The webbing tore away as the blade ran through it.
They both stood still now, smeared with blood and gore, in the midst of the totally silent arena. Thousands of arachnid eyes stared down on this pair who had just defeated their champion. McKnight expected the little red and white spiders to swarm from their tiny holes at any moment and devour them to the bone. So be it.
Instead he watched a dozen armed arachna-men descend from above and surround them. Two wielded webbed whips that they snapped around the men’s ankles. Two more blew webs around their arms to secure them to their chests. McKnight didn’t struggle.
He watched as the dead spider creature was cocooned and hauled down the tunnel it had come from. He was glad to see it go, but he hoped that the abomination of man within was dead for good, never to be brought back.
McKnight then was jerked off his feet again. He and Tonio were hauled upward above the arena, into one of many large holes in the ceiling. Now what? He was dragged again, winding upward through spirals inside the tree’s core. Bright light finally washed over his face.
Once again, he found himself outside on a giant branch, like earlier in the day. Lying there, he wondered what was next. Then he was heaved off the branch. What! He’d never get used to freefalling. He saw the green grass below rushing up to greet him. Panic overcame him as he sensed the end of his life. Anything to get this day over with. Something jerked at his feet as he juddered like bowstrings. He bounced and dangled in midair a dozen feet above the ground.
He couldn’t believe it. I’m alive! Then as quick as he stopped, he was plummeting to the hard ground again.
Thud!
To his surprise, the webs began to dissipate. Gingerly he sat up, rubbing his chest and wheezing.
He still held the blue dagger in his hand. Tonio still had the broadsword. McKnight laughed and began to roll along the ground in joy. “Ow!” He rubbed his crushed wrist. But he didn’t care.
Tonio stood up, the shadow of a smirk on his battered countenance. McKnight could barely recognize the man’s swollen face. He slapped him on shoulder as they surveyed the familiar surroundings together. They were back in the Great Forest of Bish, not far from the City of Bone, their home.
“Tonio, we’re going home!” McKnight said. “Let’s go while we still have daylight l
eft. “To Bish with these rotten woods and foul spiders. I need women and wine!”
“Kill Vee,” was all Tonio said.
“Hah, Tonio, be glad you live. If Venir still lives, we’ll find him, I swear it. But right now, let’s get home. His death can wait a little longer. Then we’ll make him pay, if someone else hasn’t already.”
McKnight had little idea how much time had passed since their abduction, but he no longer cared. More on his mind now was that he’d bonded with Tonio—and how odd that seemed. From the beginning, he had disliked the proud young Tonio, whose arrogance had almost cost him his life. But now, he’d gained a new respect for the warrior. The spoiled young man had become a survivor. Tonio had been boastful all his life, but now he had earned the right to his pride. Perhaps his father had been right about him after all. McKnight had to admit that he was rather glad to have the fearless warrior on his side.
McKnight trudged north, Tonio lumbering behind, breath raspy. McKnight didn’t know if he could completely trust the Royal. The detective wanted revenge on Venir as much as Tonio, but then what? Would the Royals take them back into their fold? The former Royal brat wasn’t exactly the handsome warrior he used to be. Personally McKnight didn’t think a mother would even want him. McKnight looked back at Tonio. The silent gray-skinned man with heavy scars tottered like a child in the forest. Every so often, Tonio took time to marvel at the birds and bugs.
What is going on in that head? McKnight wondered.
His thoughts, though, ceased at the sound of something large disturbing the bushes farther behind them. A low growl burst forth. He ran toward the rear as Tonio bolted toward the bushes.
CHAPTER 10
Underling Lord Catten and company entered a strange lair alongside the Current. The cavern sanctum below Bish’s hot surface was one of a kind. He gazed in wonder at the unique objects in the cavern.
The bleak establishment was illuminated by green-flamed smokeless candles and decorated with dripping stalactites. Catten also saw common furnishings about: sofas, garments, tables, and chairs of a variety from many races in the world above. Catten found that odd. Then a strange scent hit his nostrils. He and Verbard covered their noses; whatever it was would take some getting used to. His brother began tapping his finger on the odd plethora of glass jars.
Why must you be a child? Catten thought.
Some of the jars were tiny, and others as large as a man. Many jars were empty, but most were full of a clear thick liquid that preserved a creature within, some in part and some not. I would like to stuff you in one of those, Catten mused as he watched Verbard.
Within the jars, Catten saw ogre and orc heads and hair, women and children of all races, some strange insects, parts sewn together from one race with another, and more. The scene was dark, insidious, twisted, and disturbing, even for Catten. He picked up a large jar that contained a dog’s head on a halfling girl’s body. He shook it, nodded, and set it down.
Oh, Oran, what have you done?
Even the more vile land races would cringe at the sight of the immoral collection. Catten took his time, trying to piece the atrocities together, trying to understand. There were too many things he could neither imagine nor explain. Finally he let it be. They were here for another reason.
He led Verbard to a barred dungeon room. Now Catten could see the source of the stench: torn and shredded human bodies that had been decaying for weeks, if not months. Verbard laughed as he swung the door open and studied the corpses. Catten wondered what had killed them—and why his brother found the whole scene amusing. Whatever killed these individuals was neither underling nor human. Catten walked around, eyes flashing. Whatever had killed them might still be around. Oran’s lair was littered with caverns and tiny dungeons like this one. Whatever it was … could be anywhere.
“Oran really was a strange one indeed,” Verbard said. “His obsession with all the other races was out of control. I think it would have been best to have killed him, rather than banish him. I just don’t see the point in all of this and do not care to, either.”
His brother’s words echoed but Catten remained silent. Verbard dropped down on a velvety red couch down the way and uncovered his nose. Catten heard him chitter an order, then watched as the albino urchlings dragged the foul carcasses into the Current one by one.
Moving down the corridor, Lord Catten’s gold eyes widened when he discovered a study-like room. A table of papers, scrolls, and notes sat in the room: just what he was looking for. Using magic, he sorted through the objects and notes, suspended them before his eyes, then moved them with a wave of his hand. He knew there must be a clue here, but he also knew that Oran would have taken due care in leaving his objectives behind to be hidden from others. Catten took his time, and eventually Verbard came in and sat down on a small couch opposite the table.
The hours passed in long silence. As he worked, the thoughts of facing the Darkslayer didn’t exactly thrill Catten, but he felt himself relaxing in the odd ambience of Oran’s lair, with some newly founded admiration.
Maybe Oran was smarter than all of us, he thought.
While Verbard slept, Catten went on trying to familiarize himself with Oran’s dealings. It revealed a lot of details about the races and creatures on Bish that he did not know, but none of it mentioned any dealings with the Darkslayer. It was very clear to Catten that Oran took great care in not revealing his intentions about anything he was going to do, but only recorded what he’d already done.
Feeling frustrated and weary of his search, Catten riddled his pointed nails into the table while listening to his brother snore. He overturned the table. Verbard snapped up. The Juegen guards surrounded Catten, as the urchlings did with Verbard.
Verbard stood and walked toward Catten.
“I don’t think Oran would appreciate that,” Verbard said with a hiss.
Catten turned away and raised his hands to chest level, palms out. He muttered as he felt magic swell into him. Power surged into his hands, and his fingernails glowed a faint blue. Verbard stepped back.
Shutting his eyes and trusting his magic to guide him, Catten turned and panned his way around the cavern. Catten had always been a natural with magic, some for protection, but also for detection, which he relied on now. He felt his hands brighten. Step after step, he felt himself drawn to powerful magic. His hands were burning like fire when he let the spell go. Before him stood several big jars on the floor. He moved them and discovered a small chest hidden beneath them in the ground.
“It seems you have found something, brother,” Verbard said, smiling.
“Indeed,” Catten said with a nod. “Now let’s see what Oran has been hoarding over the years.”
Catten reached down, but Verbard pulled him back. Then Verbard’s hand glowed before him as he levitated the painted chest from the cave floor. A pair of white-fanged serpents slithered out and struck the chest at the handles, imbedding themselves into the wood. Catten grabbed each serpent, snapped their necks, and tossed them away. Verbard then guided the chest to another table and set it down.
Standing over the table, Catten inspected the dark chest. Images of fiends were painted on it, and the chest seemed almost alive in the green candlelight. Catten looked at his brother, who shrugged. With a wave of Verbard’s palm, the chest lid opened. Inside, on top, were trinkets and treasure. Catten tossed all of it out. Digging deeper, he found scrolls, potions, and vials, setting them on the table as he pulled them from the chest.
Verbard bent over, sniffing the vials. “Hmm … good stuff,” he said.
Oran, you dirty underling, Catten thought. You have a nice hoard here. No wonder you kept to yourself.
Catten smiled at his brother, who returned his own in kind. He felt connected to him again. Then an odd feeling crept back into Catten’s mind: they weren’t alone.
Catten turned in time to see a long barbed tentacle snag one of the urchlings. It screamed, helpless, as the tentacle tore into its body, dragging it into the Cur
rent. Then something ancient and foul crawled out of the Current only a dozen yards from where they stood inside the study room. The remaining urchlings gathered in front of Verbard, while the armored Juegen defended Catten.
Seeing the creature rise from the Current, Catten shook his head. He had never seen anything like it before. It was a black mass of flesh with a snapping maw the size of a watermelon. Dozens of long tentacles protruded from its muddy jellyfish-like body. It hissed with a twisted long tongue that looked to have an eye at its tip. Then it moved toward them.
The Juegen burst into action, cutting the whipping tentacles away. Their curved twin blades sliced with precision and ease through the tentacles, but they were being overwhelmed by the thrashing monster. The urchlings threw any object they could find at the creature—including items from the table.
“No!” Catten screamed. “Brother, take care of this!”
Catten scrambled to save the potions before they were all gone. The screams of the Juegen distracted him. They were in trouble; he had to act. He heard his brother chant a spell as he himself stepped out of reach of the tentacles.
Verbard’s spell was powerful. Catten could feel the energy his brother summoned as he watched Verbard hold his hands out as if he was going to grab something. His brother looked at the monster, then clasped his hands tightly together.
You can do it, brother.
Catten could feel his brother squeezing something. The monster’s screech was ear shattering. It struggled, then its tentacles loosened on the Juegen and they went back to chopping away at the creature. Catten avoided the onslaught, stepping back and knocking over the work table, then stumbling to his knees. From the floor, he felt his brother squeeze even more, but he felt Verbard’s strength ebb. Catten sensed his brother’s pain-filled mind and aching chest, and directed a thought toward him: The Darkslayer, brother! Remember!
The Darkslayer: Book 02 - Blades in the Night Page 6