The man, rough as could be, was younger than he expected, dirt covering his youthful face. Melegal could see thin pale yellow eyebrows. Something about the man reminded him of Georgio. The man’s voice was monstrous when he spoke.
“You being too nosy over here. You been watching us for a while, and we’ve been watching you. You want to die, Tiny Man?”
Melegal remained calm. The man’s hand fell to fat-bladed dagger around his belt. He had a good feeling the young man knew how to use it. He was corned at the moment.
The wench by his side spoke up first.
“Get out of here, you lout! The man’s free to look where he wants. But I prefer it was at me,” she said, pulling his chin over her way.
Melegal nodded.
“Thief,” the man said, “keep your eyes and ears somewhere else, or I’ll take them both.”
Melegal felt a formidable presence before him, but something else about the young man bothered him. He couldn’t let him get away.
“I am sorry for the trouble, fellow, how about I offer you some more to drink … ale isn’t it?”
“No thanks,” the man said, beginning to turn away.
“Something for your lovely companion then, wine to sweeten her lips perhaps—”
The man was snarling as he whirled, shoving the table into Melegal and his date. She squealed as she was pinned to the wall, screaming. I knew I should have gone to bed! Melegal slid under the table, dagger raised to stab the big man’s toe.
Chapter 11
Venir was unaware of anything except excruciating pain. His heart felt like it was being ripped from his chest, and his massive lungs were vacant of air. He didn’t know if he was standing or lying on the ground. All he knew was the searing pain of a white hot poker was jammed through him. The next one that came was even worse. His whole life seemed to have been nothing more than pain and anguish, and he never got used to it. All he could do was what he always did, hold on.
Gone was the ravenous hunger and throbbing in his head. It was all replaced by something more extreme, scathing him all over. He couldn’t feel his fingers that were curled up like knotted branches or his legs that thrashed in the grasses. He had visions of the underlings that surrounded him, a nightmare that left him feverish. One had come and the other had gone. He felt one's fist in his chest and then the pain, the pain of a hundred spikes being driven in his head. How much longer could he hold on?
Just as Venir felt the pain beginning to subside, it came again with fury. Hatred was battling hatred now … his against the unseen force that held him. He had to hang on, or die. His face was purple from suffocation, and his body was leaking blood. Sometimes with pain came numbness, but the pain lived on. Inside his chest he felt his heart giving in. His heart’s thump registered in his ears. He tried to look around, but only the bright sky and shadows remained. If he had the strength to move, he would, but where would he go. Unlike all of the other times he had faced death, this time was different. There was no blacking out at the end, only pain.
He thought of nothing; time was suspended; his life was sublime. The hatred of two iron wills remained intertwined until the bitter end. He would not let the underling win. He could give in. His mind roared one last time as his heart stopped. Everything went cold as the sky turned pink. The squeezing inside his chest remained. The world around him was mute. His eye lids opened and closed a few times before they closed again for good. If he had taken one of these underlings with him, it wouldn’t have been so bad. The grip inside his chest went slack.
Thump-Thump.
Hot blood began course through his veins.
Thump-Thump … Thump-Thump …
He lived. He sucked hot air into his lungs and followed with painful coughs. He was breathing, his color returning from white to a bronzed tan. The sound of the living crashed inside his ears. An underling was screeching nearby. He tried to roll over and stand, but he was weak, like a newborn babe. Get up! Struggling, he flipped over onto his back. The javelins of black light were gone, but not the searing pain. He could see the underling that had assailed him now. Its silver eyes were clear as the sky; its face was contorted with anger as it clutched its chest. It looked injured, but Venir was wary of a trap.
He felt the ground shake beneath him as he sat up. Debris was rolling down the hillside and a human-like sound roared from behind him. Venir hated to take his eyes off the underling, but he couldn’t help himself. He turned. A man the size of a tree towered underneath the suns. The monstrous man was swatting at another underling that moved through the skyline like a ghost. He was stupefied. His jaw dropped while his heart continued to race inside his chest. He was coughing again when he turned back toward the underling that was dragging itself away. He had to kill it, but he could barely move. He found his knife lying on the ground and gripped its bone hilt. He squeezed it, but he couldn’t feel a thing. He just hoped he had enough strength to not let go. The silver-eyed underling was getting farther away, shuffling through the ravine, but slowly. Catch him! Kill him! It was easier said than done, but he began to crawl over the dirt, every inch of progress filled with agony.
Behind him, the giant and the flying underling were exchanging blows. The ravine shook as branches, rock and debris were scattered as if by a tornado. He ignored the bellows, pushing himself over the shaking ground, coughing and spitting. It hurt, but he was alive, and as long as he lived, more underlings would die. The silver-eyed underling stopped and turned on him, hissing in its own arcane way. The grasses and bushes on the ground came to life, clutching at his arms, legs, and knees. Brool! But his weapon was gone. He didn’t have the strength to pull the weeds away as they pulled him to the ground. Bone! He tried cutting with his knife, but the blade seemed as dull as a stone against the growing brush. He locked eyes with the underling once more, but it just stared, its chest heaving underneath its gaping mouth. The underling chittered at him again, dark blood trickling from its hawk nose, and teetered away. The foliage encircled his arms and legs, pinning him to the ground, tightening around his body. Exhausted as he was, he tried to rip free, snapping some of the vegetation just to have it replaced by more. In moments he would be engulfed and suffocating again. He sat up, pulling the living ground away. He didn’t know where the strength was coming from, but the girdle encircling his belly was warm.
THOOM!
THOOM!
He looked back down the ravine; the giant was coming back in retreat, crushing everything in its path. It was flailing its hands, swatting at the swarm of birds that now filled the air. Hundreds of rock peckers were jabbing their long hard beaks into the giant’s head. Venir could barely make out the giant's bellowing face as the flock of birds covered it like a swarm of bees. He watched in awe as the giant pulled handfuls of the crushed birds away, but more kept coming.
Venir could see the underling nearby, muttering its spell, controlling the small red-feathered army. The underling was oblivious to him now, golden eyes intent on the giant alone. If he only had a crossbow, a spear … anything at all, he would kill it. Exhausted, he fought with his entangled menace, grabbing hold of the roots and ripping them from the ground. The underling mage above caused a stir within him. He was still weak and aching, but his limbs were starting to regain life. Snap! Crack! More of the tangles were tearing away. Maybe the spell was weakening; he didn’t know. Keep fighting! His helmet was starting to burn again, strengthening his limbs.
The giant was only a few dozen yards from crushing him. One way or another he had to move. The giant began pulling chunks of the hillside and throwing it in the air like a maniac. The underling floated higher and out of harm's way, but the giant noticed. It scooped fresh rock from the ground and slung it hard into the air, showering the underling with small boulders. Venir couldn’t believe his eyes.
It worked!
The underling fell forty feet from the sky, bouncing off the hillside, over the ravine, and landing between him and the giant. Venir could feel the vines and foliage still
encircling him, and he let them be as he watched. The underling scrambled to his feet, but the giant turned back on it. The rock peckers that consumed the giant’s face darted away and began to disappear in the horizon. It was giant versus underling, and the angry giant was coming fast. It raised its fist high in the air and smashed it into the ground a split second too late as the underling leapt clear of the life-ending blow. Green and blue energy encircled the underling's arms as it blasted a streak of energy into the giant’s belly. It fell to one knee, and the underling blasted it again. The monstrous creature groaned, but still it came, backing the underling Venir’s way. Keep coming.
The underling cast a glance back his way, but it didn’t seem to notice him beneath the brush that surrounded him. He could see its eyes though, bright gold, evil, demented, drained and exhausted. Venir’s head was on fire now. He wanted to scream, but he held it in. He might never get another shot like this. Come on, Giant, bring him closer.
The giant was moving slowly now, staggered by the mystic power. Its face was grimacing in pain, flaring with disappointment and anger. Venir marveled at how much it looked like a man, so much like the statues in the City of Three. Now the mighty creature was felled by one of the smallest of races, an underling. The underling pulled something from its robes, a translucent silver globe. It chittered with wicked intent as it blew the hand-sized bauble the giant’s way. The underling stepped back, several steps from Venir now, and watched the globe float down the giant’s path. It was like a tiny bead when the giant wrapped its hand around it and laughed.
BOOM!
The ravine shuddered as the giant’s hand exploded. Large chunks of flesh showered and blood speckled the air and the giant pulled back a bloody stump, wailing in horror. The sound of the mortified giant was deafening, but Venir could still hear the golden-eyed underling cackle.
Kill or Die!
All Venir saw was the laughing underling's back. He didn’t notice the foliage tearing off his skin as he began to rip through it. The underling was still laughing when he struck. He could feel the blade punch through the chest bones and heart of the underling. He shoved the knife hilt deep into the underling's back and lifted the screaming underling from the ground. He gave his own bellow of victory, but he made little noise. He lowered the limp body to the ground. The golden eyes of the underling were frozen in death. Its blood no longer pumped or oozed from its mouth. Venir looked up the ravine where the other underling had gone. The burning in his head was gone now, but the sounds of the giant were not. He looked up just in time to see the biggest hand he ever saw swat him in the face.
Chapter 12
“Lefty, do you have any idea why Kam was crying?”
Lefty sat cross-legged on a small twin bed, twitching his tiny fingers at a feather. The goose feather from his pillow lifted in the air, twirled, and drifted back onto the pillow.
“I did it!” Lefty exclaimed.
“Wow, you really did do it, Lefty! That was incredible!” Georgio was thrilled yet unmoving as he lounged on his twin bed. The bed seemed too small for him, and Lefty’s seemed too big for him, but anything was better than the floor inside the Drunken Octopus or a bed of hay at the stables.
Lefty leaped from his bed and onto Georgio’s, his blue eyes filled with glee.
“I can’t wait to tell Kam! She’ll be so proud of me!”
“Yeah, hopefully that will make her stop crying. Why does she cry, Lefty?”
Lefty looked up at the room ceiling and then back at Georgio.
“I think women do that when they get old.”
“Ah … now that makes sense. She is getting old.”
The apartment where they lived now, above the Magi Roost, was like a castle compared to anything else they'd ever stayed in. The ceiling was high and adorned with several sky lights. There were three bedrooms, and the one Lefty and Georgio stayed in was the smallest. It had a dresser, two beds, and a couple of chairs along the wall. It was nice and colorful, and they still had ample room to play. Clothes that needed washing were scattered on the floor, and some small toy soldiers stood on the dressers.
A large smile grew on Georgio's chubby face when he sniffed the air.
“I think it’s coffee time, Lefty!”
“Yes!” Lefty clapped.
They both hopped off the bed. Lefty was the first to dash outside their bedroom door. The main chamber was filled with the finest décor. A kitchenette, sofa, table and chairs welcomed them. A fancy hand-woven rug covered most of the oaken floor. The chamber had windows too, with curtains, some thick and others sheer. There was a huge desk made from black walnut sitting in the corner, with scrolls, vials and other things of the mystic around it. It was where Kam spent time teaching Lefty some skills with magic.
The coffee was bubbling on the stove. As Lefty grabbed two cups, Georgio grabbed the pot by its metal handle. It was burning hot.
“Georgio, get a potholder!” Lefty exclaimed.
“Hah … I don’t need one.”
The metal was like fire in his hand, and sweat formed on his brow. He held on, filled both cups and set it back down. He looked at his meaty hand and then showed Lefty. There was a thick red line from the pot’s handle, but in a moment it was gone. Georgio rubbed his hands together.
“I’m getting tougher. It doesn’t even hurt as much.”
Lefty shook his head and said, “Man, I wish I could do that.”
“Well, at least you can learn magic. I can’t. I’m not smart enough,” he said with a little frown.
Kam had tried to teach Georgio some, but it was a lost cause. It just wasn’t in him. It wasn’t in just anybody. Either you had it, or you did not. Georgio didn’t care that much, though. All of that concentrating hurt his head. As long as he could eat and nap as he pleased, he had no need for magic.
They both sat down on the couch and looked out the window. They could see the mountains and cascading falls in the distance. They spent most of their free time at the falls and even had made some friends. The water here was the most refreshing in the world of Bish. Georgio never knew that such a wonderful place could exist.
Now came that time of the day when the boys would have to tackle some chores. Georgio patted his full belly, content to wait for the coffee to kick in.
“Lefty, do you ever miss Melegal?”
Lefty took a sip and gave him a thoughtful look.
“Yes.”
“I don’t. He’s cruel.”
“Ah … you don’t mean that.”
Georgio slugged down the steaming coffee and went back over to the stove.
“Yes I do. He liked you, but he didn’t like me.”
“He just didn’t act like he liked you,” Lefty said, as he played with the hairs on the top of his toes.
Melegal had worn Georgio out with meaningless chores. The thief would starve him for hours that seemed like days if he didn’t get his work done. He made him treat Quickster like a Royal stallion. Georgio didn’t miss the chronic brow beating and cursing, either. He didn’t miss being Melegal’s scapegoat. But, he did miss Venir.
“Lefty, who do you miss more … Melegal or Venir?”
Lefty shrugged.
“I don’t know. I miss writing Venir’s stories, but I miss all the things Melegal taught me, too. It’s different.”
Georgio returned back to the sofa, sinking into its maroon cushions. It was beginning to seem like Venir had been gone forever. He still simmered inside that the big man had left without saying good-bye. He had cried for days after that. He wanted his hero back home.
With the coffee fully consumed, the pair began whistling and doing their meager chores. Lefty picked up the clothes, made the beds, and dusted the room. Georgio took out the trash and headed to the stables next door. It was just like old times, except Melegal wasn’t around.
“Lucky me,” he said, shoveling out some of the manure in the back of Quickster’s stall. The quick pony stood there, staring at him with a blank look.
“What Quickster? Why do you always stare at me? Go eat!”
Quickster didn’t move, continuing its odd stare. It made Georgio uncomfortable. It was as if Melegal was still watching him, waiting for him to do something wrong. It wasn’t long before Georgio was sweating, and his tummy began to growl. He took a sack of apples that was hanging in the corner and fed one to Quickster. The pony nickered, turned away, and lay down in the corner. Georgio watched the gray pony’s furry black stomach rise and fall as it quickly went back to sleep.
Georgio took a bite out of his green granny apple and sat down in the hay. The sour taste made him think of Melegal. He forced it down and smacked his lips.
“Ugh,” he said, grimacing.
The apple would curb his hunger. Kam wouldn’t feed him any more until lunch, and he hated to wait. Kam told him he couldn’t just sit around and eat all of the time, but he didn’t understand why. She wouldn’t give him any money, either. At least Venir and Melegal gave him money. It had been a long time since he had a savory Georgio biscuit. His mouth watered at the thought. That was one thing he missed about Bone.
“You ready to go?” a tiny voice said from outside the stall.
Georgio dusted off his hands as he stood up, closed the stable door, and latched it.
“You bet, Lefty. I’m starving. Let’s go skim somebody.”
Chapter 13
A heavy blade burst through the table, inches above Melegal’s head. The wench was screaming as the tavern’s clamoring began. Melegal was ready to strike his dagger into the man’s boot when someone pulled his assailant away.
“Leave him be, Brak! Sit down! I can handle myself!”
The Darkslayer: Book 03 - Underling Revenge Page 6