Clang!
Then another.
Jottenhiem sneered, reversed his grips, and came after him slicing, stabbing and spinning. The bald underling was almost as fast as Kierway, but a different skill of fighter. Hours ago, Jottenhiem would have been far better, but that was hours ago. Much had changed in the past few hours.
Creed whipped his blades under Jottenhiem’s nose in a flurry.
“Smell that, Underling?”
Jottenhiem’s lips twisted.
“Smells of death, doesn’t it?”
The underling tore into him. Blades clashed. Showers of sparks went everywhere. Creed felt his hatred growing. His skill increasing. The battle led out of the Throne Room and into another.
Clip! Slit! Clip!
Jottenhiem bled from three separate wounds.
Slit! Clip! Slit!
One ear dangled, and an X on Jottenhiem’s forehead dripped blood into his eyes. He broke off.
“Thinking about running, aren’t you, Underling?” Creed shrugged, gasping. “But there’s no honor in being a coward, is there? Come on, then.” He waved him over. “At least you don’t have a whip around your throat.”
Something propelled him forward, attacking the underling with unrelenting fury.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Jottenhiem’s corded arms started to give, snapping back up slower and slower. It was fatal.
“Enough of this!”
Creed ripped at Jottenhiem with all his might, tearing one sword from his hand.
Jottenhiem gasped.
Flash!
Creed tore the other one out.
Jottenhiem’s ruby red eyes were full of hatred. Anguish.
He shook his head, took a knee and bowed.
Creed’s next stroke was lights out.
***
“No!” Verbard moaned. “No!” His silver eyes darted around. Looking for a ghost.
Clutching Melegal with both hands now, the underling’s silver eyes filled with anger and dismay. Whatever happened had been bad for the underling. Whenever bad things happen to underlings, worse things happen to people.
Melegal clutched at the underling’s wrists and tried to kick at its guts.
Let go!
The ring from Sefron’s chamber glimmered on Melegal’s finger, and a charge of energy coursed through him.
Zzzzt!
Verbard’s brows lifted. His face contorted. His jaw dropped open. “Argh!” The underling yelled, releasing Melegal and clutching his head.
Coughing, Melegal hit the floor, legs moving towards Lorda. The woman had sat up and was rubbing her head, blinking. “Get up, Lorda. Head for that door!” He glanced back.
Verbard spun in the air, shaking his head, arms coiling with mystic energy.
Here it comes!
Zzzzram!
Tendrils of lightning leapt from Verbard’s finger, striking Melegal full in the back.
He skittered across the floor, reeling in pain, mouth tasting like metal and stone. Teeth screaming. He couldn’t move, but he twitched, fingers curled, stomach knotting, his nose filling with the stench of his seared skin and hair.
Verbard floated over, gloating, and raised his arms.
This is it, Melegal. He found Lorda’s eyes once more and mouthed the words, So long.
She reached for him.
Melegal crossed is arms over his face.
Zzzzram!
Boom!
***
Creed didn’t stop with Jottenhiem. He didn’t stop with the imp. He kept going. Limping. Hunting. Sliding from one room to another like a shadow, he slaughtered every underling he honed in on.
I know where you are.
Most of them didn’t see him coming. For those who did, it was too late. One dead underling became two. Two became four. Four became eight. It was a glorious thing.
***
Melegal’s shaking slender fingers patted over his body. I’m still intact! He wasn’t alone either.
Two robed men stood in front of him, coated with transparent swords and shields. One’s hair was long white and wispy, the other looked like he’d just crawled out of the woods. They were accompanied by a blood-bearded giant dwarf and two smaller black beards.
Melegal didn’t stick around to thank them. Instead, he scooped Lorda up and headed for the door.
“Heh…” he breathed, stretching his aching fingers into his clothes and grabbing one of three Keys he’d pilfered from the underling Verbard’s robes. He shoved the Key in the nearest door and turned. The door opened. “Let’s get out of here. Shall we?” He’d hesitated, starting to turn back, when the room shook in its entirety. Shards of marble careened through the air.
A powerful figure shoved him inside and closed the door behind them. His mind and body started to spin. Creed!
CHAPTER 74
“You first,” Boon said after opening up a black dimension door.
Fogle gave him a look.
“I cast the spell, and I’m your elder. If it makes you feel any better, take the dwarves with you.”
Fogle summoned his power, coating his body in a transparent layer of blue energy and a shield. Armor, mystical or not, wasn’t something he was at all accustomed to. As a matter of fact, he’d never worn so much as a bracer before.
“Let’s go,” he said to Eethum.
Holding his stomach, Venir said, “I’ll go too.”
“No, we’ll need you to pull us out if things go wrong,” Boon said, handing him the end of a rope tied to his waist. “If you hear us scream, tug it.”
“Let the dwarf tug it,” Venir growled. “I’m going in… oof!” Clutching his stomach he took a knee.
“Go, Fogle,” Boon said, “I’ll be right behind.”
Stepping through, they found themselves in the Throne Room facing the back of a robed underling that hovered over a man and woman he did not recognize.
Fogle flicked a green missile into its back. Zip!
The underling’s arms sprawled out.
Zzzzram!
Boom!
The underling’s energy, meant for the man and woman, shot up into the ceiling.
Eethum and the Black Beards charged.
The underling, Verbard, whirled around, silver eyes flashing. With a wave of his hand, he knocked the dwarves around the room, slamming them into the wall.
“Let him have it, Grandson!” Boon yelled, energy erupting from his hands.
A bolt of power slammed into the underling’s chest and dissipated. Fogle fired his own charge, which careened towards the underling and disappeared into the underling’s robes.
The underling reached into his robes and pulled out a glowing orb of power.
Fogle started to fire again, but Boon stayed his hand.
“This is not good for us.”
Verbard laughed.
A burst of energy blinded them.
Fogle heard his grandfather scream.
***
Facing the black doorway, Venir tugged at the rope. Nothing happened.
“I better get in there,” he said, staggering towards the black door.
Srrit!
It disappeared.
“Slat!” He rubbed the back of his head. “Stupid mages! I knew I should have gone with them.”
He could see it now, the two of them fighting the underling mage with the silver eyes. He knew it was him. They had said so. Now, he was trapped inside the blood hungry chamber with nowhere to go.
Fogle’s wall of stone cracked again.
Venir picked up Mood’s axes.
“It’s just you and me, underlings.”
Creak…
Behind him, one of the six doors opened.
Venir’s jaw dropped.
Out came Melegal, whose eyes were as wide as his.
“Vee?”
“Me?”
“I knew you were behind all this!” Melegal said.
“Uh!”
A beautiful black-haired woman was shoved to the floor be
hind Melegal. The skinny thief jumped away and whirled.
“Creed, what are you doing?” Melegal said, backing away.
A tall rangy form stepped from beyond the threshold. He pointed a gleaming sword at Melegal’s scrawny chest with one hand and held a jug of wine with the other.
Venir wiped the sweat and red grime from his eyes with his forearm and locked eyes with the man he’d all but forgotten about months ago.
“Tonio!”
“Vee-Man!”
***
Nullified.
That’s what happened to the plan.
Boon had planned on overwhelming Verbard with his grandson, spell after spell, while the dwarves wove in and out, attacking. It might have worked if it weren’t for something Boon hadn’t foreseen. The Orb of Imbibing.
“Defend yourself, Fogle!”
Zzzram!
Zzzram!
Verbard launched one blast into them after the other, shattering their mystic armor and skipping them across the floor.
Boon tried to summon the dimension door again, but could not.
Verbard pressed the assault. Not letting him get a word out. The underling hovered over them now, draining their powers.
“Which one of you killed my brother?”
“I did,” Boon lied, “and it was quite satisfying. Like a tender piece of veal cooked just right.” Boon licked his lips. “The death of underlings is an excellent dessert.”
***
One Black Beard had been crushed inside his armor. The other was out cold. Eethum lay on the floor bound up by yellow magic cords. Fogle’s grandfather was a horrible negotiator.
Be silent, Fogle wanted to say, but his tongue was made of wool. Fogle had thought he was ready for anything by now, but he wasn’t ready to not be able to use magic.
He gazed at the orb that pulsated in Verbard’s hand like a beating heart. Bish is just one excruciating surprise after another. He tried to lock minds with Verbard.
“You dare!” the underling Lord hissed, squeezing his telekinetic fingers around his neck. Fogle was choking. Beside him, Boon clutched at the invisible fingers wrapped around his own neck, face turning purple. Verbard was getting stronger as he got weaker. There was nothing, nothing at all he could do. Was there? Searching the deepest recesses of his mind, he had to find the answer. He had to find the key. He heard his neck crack. Or was it Boon’s?
***
“Finally,” Tonio said, shattering his wine jug against the wall, “I’ll have your head.”
Shoulders lowered, axes bared, Venir charged in. “No! I’ll have yours!”
Krang!
Tonio’s gleaming sword tore Venir’s axe from his wrist. The half-dead man was powerful and fast.
Venir ducked under a decapitating cut and tore a gash across Tonio’s belly.
Tonio laughed. “You already killed me, Vee-man! You can’t kill me again. Sorry yet?”
Whack!
Venir cut across his leg, but Tonio countered, punching Venir’s bullish form in the face, cracking his nose open. Spitting blood from his mouth, Venir squared off again, shoulders dipping, belly aching. Whatever Tonio was, it wasn’t mortal.
“I’ve been searching for you a long time, Vee-Man.” He ran his fingers down his gash. “I’m going to split you in half as well. Show you how bad it feels. You ruined my life. You ruined everything!”
Venir forced a laugh at him. “Especially your face!”
Tonio grunted and stuck his sword into the stone. “Come on then,” he said, walking over, “see what you can do with that little axe of yours.”
“I’ll be glad to show you, Tonio!”
Slic—
Tonio caught his arms and wrenched the axe free from Venir’s hands.
Venir dug in, punching at the monster’s ribs with his hardened fists.
Tonio didn’t feel a thing.
Whop! Whop!
Venir’s head snapped back. His knees buckled.
***
Melegal had seen Venir brawl with anything from underlings to half-ogres, but he’d never seen him fight something that couldn’t be hurt or broken.
Tonio’s speed and strength were Venir’s match. Toe to toe, blow for blow, they fought and wrestled over the mosaic floor.
Come on, Vee!
Venir hammered away, an angry juggernaut, but his strength was fading.
A lightning fast strike caught Venir in the chin, wobbling him.
“Your head is mine, Vee-Man!”
Tonio wrapped his arms around Venir’s head and squeezed. It turned red, then purple, his blazing blue eyes rolling up.
Move, Melegal!
***
Fogle thought of Cass. Dying, he still found himself angry with her for abandoning him―for a Dragon of all things―and now, leagues from his home that smelled of flowers and sweet wine, he was going to die.
Verbard’s fading face was gloating from above, sneering at him and his grandfather.
“I’m disappointed. I thought the pair of you would have more power that I could store in my orb. But the power I have should be enough to bring my brother back, once more, if I must.”
Glitch!
A dark bloody sword burst into Verbard’s chest and disappeared.
Glitch!
Another blade followed. In and out.
“No,” Verbard said, incredulous, turning on his captor. “Where did you come from?
The man in the cowl with the glowing eyes stood tall, swords held in his thick wrists.
“Are you The Darkslayer?” Verbard said, splitting up blood and sagging to the floor.
Creed swung both swords at once.
Slice!
Verbard’s head slid from his shoulders.
“I guess I am, Underling.”
Fogle clutched at his chest, gasping.
Boon was doing the same. The old man, coughing, reached over and grabbed the Orb of Imbibing.
“Grab my hand, Fogle, so I can restore you. Quickly!”
***
Melegal whipped out the Sisters and struck Tonio in the back of the knee, tearing out tendon and flesh.
“What? You skinny flea!” Tonio teetered, losing his balance.
Venir bull rushed the man onto the floor and started to ‘ground and pound’ him, one blow after the other.
Tonio swatted the blows off and clutched at Venir’s throat.
Stab!
Melegal pinned one of his swords through Tonio’s shoulder.
Tonio caught him by the ankle and jerked him down.
Melegal tried to twist away from Tonio’s grasp.
Snap.
His ankle cracked.
“You break like a twig!”
***
Venir was drunk with battle. He punched, kicked and clawed, almost oblivious to his opponent, but the arrogant tone in Tonio’s voice kept him going.
“Ahhh!”
Melegal, his best friend and confident, cried out.
Tonio had the man’s leg and still hung onto Venir’s throat, holding them both in his vise-like grip.
Venir’s instincts took over. He fumbled for a weapon. Found his long knife strapped to his leg. With both hands, he raised it over his head and drove it straight into Tonio’s heart.
Crunch!
“That won’t work, Vee-Man!” Tonio said. His grip was getting stronger. “I have no heart!”
Venir twisted the knife inside Tonio’s chest.
Tonio’s eyes widened. “Urk!”
Tonio’s body shuddered.
“Grab an axe, Melegal!” Venir said, wrapping his arms around the monster, holding him to the ground.
Melegal hopped over towards the axe. “And do what?”
“Chop his head off!”
Melegal caught something in the corner of his eye.
I have a better idea.
***
Tonio slung Venir off and ripped the knife from his chest. “You already killed me! I’ll make you sorry!”
Venir, huffing for breath, was too slow.
Tonio closed in, stabbing at him.
Melegal! What are you doing!
The thief was fooling with the underling on the blood-sucking floor.
Venir tried to dodge. Tried to block.
Glitch!
His own hunting knife caught him in the leg.
Twisting away, Tonio ripped a hunk out of Venir’s back.
Slash!
Getting cut to pieces but still standing on his feet, Venir watched Tonio’s final blow start down.
The monster’s split face had a cruel smile on it. “Time to die, Vee-Man.”
Tonio stopped, not moving a muscle, the bloody blade no longer coming down, a surprised look on his face.
“Venir,” Melegal yelled, “catch!” The thief tossed him Mood’s axe. “Be quick about it!”
Venir snatched it out of the air and whirled full force into Tonio’s neck.
Slice!
Tonio’s head bounced off the floor and rolled. His big body collapsed on the ground.
Venir collapsed as well. He snorted for air. Tried to shake the spots from his eyes. He reached over and pulled his knife from Tonio’s grip.
“I knew I should have killed that Royal brat in the first place.”
***
Pinching his nose, Melegal adjusted the dark cap on his head with the other hand, admiring Tonio’s’ corpse. He wiped the blood that dripped from his nose. That was close.
On the floor, Venir looked as bad as he’d ever seen him. It tugged at his heart a little. Big lout.
He helped Venir back to his feet.
“You know, you should have listened to me—”
“Don’t start, Me.”
CHAPTER 75
“So we all agree then,” Boon said, standing in the alcove, eyeing the Keys on the pegs.
They were all there except one, which Melegal believed Jarla had.
Fogle didn’t care much either way. The only thing that mattered was that the underlings didn’t have the Keys. He looked back over at the Stone Wall he’d produced. It was still holding. Behind it were―he had no idea how many underlings.
The party all knew now that despite their victory today, the underlings were penetrating the City. The battle for Bone had just begun.
“Shouldn’t we destroy the Keys and the chamber?” Fogle suggested.
Boon rubbed his brow. “That’s up to you, Fogle. Take a Key and do with it what you like, but remember, it always leads back here. And as I understand it, the room is here now, but it might be elsewhere later.”
Chaos At The Castle (Book Six) Page 36