Brothers Haymaker (Haymaker Adventures Book 2)

by Sam Ferguson

  Ruben smiled wide. “The waitress at the coffee shop. We got to talking about the mage tower and she told me. She was the one who told me of the northern root that runs out from under the tower in a long tunnel and drinks from a deep, underground pool of waters flush with magical energy. That’s when I thought perhaps I should try using the spell again. Of course, I had no idea how I would find you, but I knew that I had to try and get into the archive.”

  “What do we do now?” Jonathan asked. “They’re going to be looking for us.”

  Ruben nodded. “I have enough energy for one more time. I’ll use the spell to come out near the inn. There was a large oak tree there. I’ll bring the others out here to meet you.”

  “How do you know where we are now?” Jonathan asked.

  Ruben grinned and pointed to the trees. “When I walk inside a tree, the trees are my eyes. I saw exactly where we were going, and I can easily make it back here.”

  “I thought people were born with one type of magic,” Jonathan said.

  Ruben’s smile disappeared. “My father was a druid. My mother was a Lisei Priestess. They each followed the life paths that matched their magical skills. Normally, a child will get one type of magic or the other. However, in my case, I was granted both types. I guess that is one of the reasons I was promoted so quickly in the college.” Ruben smiled and huffed as his eyes lit up. “I know for a fact that is the reason why I was betrothed to Miranda.”

  Jonathan narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.

  Ruben nodded understandingly. “Don’t get me wrong, I have since come to like her very much. But, the genesis of our betrothal was partly a broker between powerful wizard families, as is our custom, and partly an experiment I suppose. Seeing as Miranda has her father’s gift of fire magic, I suppose everyone is hoping that we will bear children who can wield three types of magic equally well. It’s silly I suppose, because there are plenty of records of powerful wizards and sorcerers throughout Terramyr that can wield many kinds of magic, but on our peninsula, such is not the case. But, I should get moving. I don’t want the elves to figure out where the others are and get to them first.”

  Jonathan simply nodded and Ruben disappeared into a tree, walking into its trunk and looking as though the tree absorbed him into itself like a tall, human-shaped drink of water.

  *****

  The next couple of days were a whirlwind of running north through the forest. Not only was the party worried about being chased from Telward, but Ziegler had reported that Larkyn had eluded them, leaving Telward a few hours before they had arrived to call upon him. According to the steward at the manor, Larkyn was on his way to Inghali, an elven city which most elves pretended did not in fact exist, for it was easier for most of the so-called enlightened elf races to ignore the sand elves and the debauchery they allowed in their ancestral homeland.

  The group ate little, and slept less. They worked their way through the dense forest until half way through the fourth day, they arrived upon the southern shore of a massive lake that was more like an inland sea.

  The southern banks were lined with tan sands, small, smooth pebbles, and bits of driftwood and seaweed layered up where waves had deposited them over the years. The lake was nearly fifty miles wide east to west, and twice as long north to south. Bull was the first to move toward the beach, where he promptly cast himself down upon the sand with a loud groan and sprawled out to relax.

  “Don’t get too comfy, Bull,” Ziegler said. “We need to find the fishing villages around here, and see about getting a boat.”

  “Another boat?” Jason asked. “Why not stick to the trees and the cover of the forest?”

  “A small fishing vessel can travel upwards of thirty miles an hour, given favorable wind conditions,” Ruben put in. “At that rate, it would only take us a few hours to navigate to the other side.”

  “I’m up for anything that doesn’t involve more running,” Bull huffed from the ground.

  “Are you tired, Bull?” Jason quipped.

  Bull stuck a finger in the air. “I ain’t tired, I just can’t feel my legs.”

  They all shared a laugh at that.

  “Come on, the sooner we find a boat, the faster we can all rest our legs,” Ziegler said.

  Moose walked over and stretched a hand down to Bull. Bull took hold of the offered hand and a second later the mountainous warrior had yanked Bull up into the air and onto his feet.

  The group walked around toward the east, where Ruben was certain there was a small village.

  “According to my map, there is a fishing village named Vizendel.”

  They kept to the beach, rather than make their way through the dense forest, for there were no roads shooting off the main northerly causeway that led alongside the western bank toward Inghali. Along the way, Jason picked up a few rocks and skipped them out onto the lake. Moose shrugged and decided he would play along. He grabbed a slightly round rock the size of Jason’s fist and hurled it out to the water. It flew up in a high arc and landed in the lake more than one hundred yards from where they stood.

  “You’re supposed to skip the stone,” Jason said. “It takes finesse.”

  Moose shrugged and pulled out another cigar. “I was going for distance, it requires strength.”

  Jason grumbled something that even Jonathan couldn’t understand, and they all kept moving along. Far too soon for Jonathan’s comfort, Ziegler even picked up the pace and everyone was once again jogging. He had long ago forgotten about the ache in his side. If anything, he now had a full-body ache that rumbled along with him as closely as his shadow. Much like Bull, Jonathan was beginning to go numb from it all. It was all he could do to keep his eyes on Ziegler and keep pace with everyone else.

  It was sundown before they reached Vizendel.

  The small fishing village was nothing like the grander cities of the elves. These were simple wooden houses and a few buildings near wharfs that had definitely seen some better days. Barnacles and algae grew along the posts, and had even reached the top side of the docks in places. There were four small sail boats tied to the docks with thick, discolored ropes, and a few barrels lined the wharf near a wooden storehouse of sorts that had several large fish hanging by the tail from a wooden post near the front door.

  What Jonathan didn’t see, however, was movement.

  Where were the elves? None were on the docks, in the boats, or even walking between the houses.

  The gardens near each house were overgrown with weeds and wildflowers. Birds busily pecked at berries and vegetables while there were none to shoo them away.

  “Something isn’t right,” Ziegler said.

  Everyone in the group went for the knives they kept in their backpacks. Jonathan readied his bow.

  A raven squawked in the trees above.

  A door opened and an elf walked out from the third house on the right. A black smock covered the front of his tan trousers and off-white shirt. His hair was long, braided into a single plait down his back. In his right hand he held three fish tied together at the tails. He looked up to the group and his eyes went wide. He started shaking his head, but to Jonathan’s surprise the elf didn’t say anything. Instead, he tried to wave them away frantically while nodding to the woods.

  “What is he doing that for?” Bull grumbled.

  “Keep your eyes peeled,” Ziegler said.

  The elf kept waving at them, hurrying across the street and glancing nervously to the woods.

  As the group inched closer, a wind fluttered in from the north and carried with it a familiar stench.

  Jonathan’s heart began to thump faster and he put an arrow to his bow string.

  Moose was the first one to say what they were all thinking. “Trolls are here,” he said.

  Just then the door to the house on the right exploded open and two trolls jumped out. Their ugly, green noses were flared and their yellow teeth were bared beneath matching mohawks of red hair. They shouted something and fired bows without additi
onal warning.

  Moose caught one arrow with his backpack and then dropped the bag to throw his knife. The blade whirled end over end until it sunk into one of the trolls’ neck and the creature fell to the ground, screaming and hollering.

  The second arrow went wide, missing everyone.

  Miranda and Ruben answered simultaneously. She sent a fireball and Ruben fired a bolt of purple lightning. The poor troll didn’t stand a chance. The fireball struck his forehead and the lightning shot through his heart.

  Bull sprinted up to the troll with Moose’s knife stuck in his neck, grabbed the hair in one hand, yanking the head up and back while he dug his knee into the troll’s spine, and then he worked quickly to plunge his knife into the troll’s heart. A second later he released his knife and pulled Moose’s knife through the troll’s neck, severing the head. He tossed the dismembered head to the street and then turned to enter the house.

  “Moose!” Bull called out.

  Moose was already on his way inside. The hulking man made the door in four steps, pulled Bull’s knife from the headless troll, and then stomped inside. A moment later, the entire southern wall of the house exploded and two trolls went flying out amidst a shower of broken boards. Jonathan lifted his bow, seeing that neither of those two trolls were mortally wounded. He fired his first arrow through one troll’s eye as he rolled along the ground. Jonathan’s second arrow pierced through the second troll’s heart.

  Miranda added another fire spell for good measure, and then the battle turned into a hell storm.

  Doors opened all around them and trolls poured into the street.

  Ruben brought down lightning upon three trolls emerging from a house with swords, frying them instantly. Miranda blasted another with a fireball that ripped through the troll and then exploded in the doorway he had emerged from.

  Jason dropped his knife and ran for a sword that one of the trolls had dropped.

  Jonathan turned to cover his brother. He fired three times, dropping three trolls. Jason bent down to scoop up a sword and then made quick work of a fourth troll by severing its head.

  Screams went up in the village, and the party spun around, looking for the source.

  “There!” Bull said as he emerged from the demolished house he had just cleared with Moose. He was pointing across the way to the storehouse with the fish hanging in front. A large, heavily muscled troll exited the house and had two she-elves, one in each hand by the throat. He roared violently and then the sound of snapping necks filled the air. The elves twitched and then their lifeless bodies were dropped to the ground.

  Jonathan stared in horror, but then he noticed a troll archer coming out from around a corner to the right. He sent his arrow just in time, for the troll was about to fire as well. Luckily, Jonathan’s arrow struck a moment before the troll released his shot and the troll fell to the ground while his shot jerked up and over the village.

  Jonathan reached back for another arrow, but then he noticed a troll barreling down toward him. The snarling creature had a spear in hand, and was coming in hard. Jonathan grabbed for an arrow, but his fingers fumbled and he missed. Just before the spear reached him, Moose came around on the side, snatched the spear behind the head and yanked it up. The troll went with it, swinging his legs and growling ferociously, but Moose jerked the weapon away and sent the troll flailing through the air. A second later, Moose threw the spear and pierced the troll’s heart. The troll fell lifeless to the ground with a sickening tha-bump.

  Jonathan looked up to Moose, who simply winked at him and smiled. Only then did Jonathan realize that the man was still smoking his cigar.

  “Jonathan, rooftop!” Jason called out.

  Jonathan snatched an arrow, this time without fumbling, and turned to see a pair of archers lining up. They were both preparing to fire. Ruben and Miranda were engaged with their backs to the archers, fighting a group of six trolls. Ziegler was hacking his way toward the hulking troll standing over the two dead elves and roaring. Bull and Jason were busy fighting hand to hand.

  If Jonathan couldn’t take both trolls in one shot, someone was going to be killed by the second troll archer.

  Jonathan jumped to the left, then spun to the side and pulled his arrow back as quickly as he could. He lined up the trolls and then fired, whispering a small prayer to the gods for help. The arrow flew straight and true while Jonathan stood motionless, staring in an attempt to steer the missile with his eyes. He was relieved only when the arrow cut the string of the first archer’s bow and then continued onward to sink into the second archer’s neck. The first archer screamed as his arrow fell to the ground when the bow limbs snapped into place and cracked. The second archer jerked to the side and his shot sailed down to strike some other hapless troll fighting in the road, striking it in the forehead.

  Jonathan pulled a second arrow, and then a third, driving through the two troll archers’ hearts before moving on to find new targets.

  Jonathan looked up to see the hulking troll disappear into the storage building and then reemerge with another victim. It was a male elf, this time. The troll held him up over his head, and then he swung the elf by his ankles and dashed his head against the building before tossing the limp and broken body to the ground.

  Jonathan drew an arrow and fired on the hulking troll, but it looked up and snatched the arrow from the air just inches before it would have pierced its heart. It sneered at Jonathan and then it produced a brass staff. Flames erupted from the staff and flooded the building. Screams and shrieks filled the air. The hulking troll barked some sort of orders, and the dozen or so trolls still alive turned to retreat. The hulking troll then spewed the magical flames on the ground, creating a hedge of fire between him and Ziegler.

  Ruben peeled away and sent a lightning bolt at the large troll, but the troll raised its staff and somehow managed to deflect the bolt. It ricocheted back and struck the ground near Ruben, throwing him to the side as it exploded in a puff of dirt, stone, and smoke.

  Moose and Bull took down two more trolls, Jason caught one himself, and Miranda blasted two more. Jonathan turned his bow on the others and was able to bring down another pair of the hideous creatures before they all vanished behind the wall of flame.

  Ziegler sprinted forward, leapt through the barrier, and disappeared behind the flames as they resealed the barrier behind him.

  “Captain!” Bull shouted as he rushed forward. At that moment, the firewall bowed out and exploded. A wave of white, fiery air blasted out toward the party. They all dove to the ground and covered themselves as best they could. Jonathan felt the sting of the fire as it rolled over him. When the danger passed, Jonathan jumped up to look for Ziegler.

  He was relieved to see the captain was safe, but he couldn’t revel in the feeling for long.

  Captain Ziegler took the head off of two more trolls, and then he turned his attention to the burning building. He grunted and shouted as he swung a large sword at the wall, breaking through the panels and boards. Black, thick smoke billowed out from the opening, but Ziegler didn’t stop. He hacked away at the wall and then dropped the sword to use his hands to rip the building apart. Once there was a hole in the wall big enough, Ziegler dove into it. Jonathan and the others ran to help.

  Moose pulled at the opening, ripping nearly half the wall down on top of them in the process. A great cloud of smoke blasted them and Jonathan had to duck and put a hand to his face to keep from choking.

  “Captain!” Bull shouted again as he rushed in.

  “Here!” Ziegler called out from the smoke.

  Moose also dove in, and a moment later the three of them emerged with four elves. They were coughing and sputtering. Moose and Bull slapped the elves lightly on their faces. Miranda offered them water, and Ruben moved in to listen to their breathing.

  Jonathan stood there, helpless. He didn’t know what to do. He was no physician. He watched helplessly for a moment, until his brother nudged him on the side.

  “Give them wate
r, like Miranda is doing,” Jason said as he held out two water skins.

  Jonathan nodded and went to work. He knelt beside a she-elf. Her skin was covered in soot. Her hair was partly melted to her left shoulder and the left side of her face. Bull was kneeling on her other side. He took one of the water skins and began pouring water over the melted patches of hair. The she elf slowly turned her head and her green eyes looked up to Jonathan for a moment before turning dull. Her body heaved and convulsed as she took in another desperate breath.

  “No, you don’t have my permission to die,” Bull snarled. “Move back, Jonathan,” Bull said. The bald warrior then moved to the elf’s chest. He placed a hand over her heart and then leaned down to listen to her breathing. He took in a breath and then put his mouth over hers. Jonathan could hear the exchange of air and the elf’s chest rose slightly. Bull came back up, took another breath, and then pressed his mouth to hers once more. When he came up the next time, he stopped and flattened his hand on her chest. He moved two fingers to the side of her neck and shook his head angrily. “No, no, no!”

  Bull gave another breath and then began giving compressions to her chest as well. He looked up to Jonathan. “Hold her feet up,” he said.

  Jonathan didn’t question the man. He moved to the elf’s feet, grabbed them by the ankles, and lifted them up a foot off the ground.

  “Keep them there!” Bull ordered. He continued to alternate between giving breaths and compressions for several minutes. The black smoke swirled around them, and the heat was becoming unbearable.

  Moose tried to convince Bull to move the elf further away, but Bull pushed him away, refusing to stop his efforts to save her. Jonathan stood and watched helplessly. Soon, the others gathered around them, but no one said anything to Bull. Jonathan watched as Ruben called a wind to push the smoke back, but everyone else was still, watching Bull work as his face and bald head grew redder and redder.

  Finally, he fell backward, exhausted and out of breath.