BREAKER: MONSTER TAMER BOOK ONE

by Hooke, Isaac

  The branches above Malem broke away as the giant reached down. He rolled away as that fist slammed into the ground behind him.

  At the same time, the spider arrived at the shoulder area of the giant’s sash. The arachnid was nearly thrown from the giant by the force of the impact.

  Malem gave the final order as the giant retracted its arm.

  The spider moved rapidly, crawling from the shoulder, onto the neck, and onto the giant’s face.

  “What—”

  Before the giant could do anything, the spider spat its venom directly into the giant’s eyes.

  What followed was a stentorian scream more terrible than anything Malem had heard in a long time. A gurgling, agonizing scream that would haunt his dreams for nights to come.

  Forgetting about Malem entirely, the giant stood to its full height and ripped the spider from its face, crumpling the arachnid in its hand before dropping the pieces to the ground. It dropped the club, holding both hands to its eyes, and continued to scream as it stumbled around in the dark, seeing nothing, consumed by its own pain. It smashed into the surrounding trees, tearing away limbs.

  “Go!” Malem shouted.

  20

  Malem raced away through the trees. He nudged the mounts of Abigail and Xaxia in the right direction, since their riders wouldn’t have been certain which way to go without night vision. Meanwhile Gwen followed behind them, herding them.

  Spirit took to the skies, though staying close to the treetops, for fear of the airborne night predators that stalked these territories.

  Felipe peered out from his collar and issued a tiny squeak as Malem weaved between the trees.

  “I haven’t forgotten you,” Malem told the animal.

  He felt a warm, squishy wetness along the top of his shoulder blade.

  “Ah, no,” Malem said. “Not in the shirt.”

  Felipe squeaked again.

  Yup. Taking a shit in my shirt.

  He supposed he deserved it, for scaring the living daylights out of the little guy. Malem was close to losing his shit himself, at that point.

  “Slow down,” he said, and the party slowed to a trot.

  Bounder tripped on a log, and Malem was thrown from the saddle, landing several feet away.

  “He’s down!” Gwen said.

  She pulled up short, as did Abigail and Xaxia.

  “You all right?” Xaxia said.

  “Fine,” he said, standing. His back felt slightly tweaked, but otherwise he was all right. “My mount tripped. We’re going to have to halt, I think. It’s too dark, even with night vision.”

  He could see a glow coming from the distance southeast, where the trees yet burned, thanks to Abigail’s fireballs. He wondered if the earlier flames he had set still blazed, but he didn’t remember seeing any similar glows while Spirit had been above the treetops—the forest wasn’t dry enough for the fires to continue for too long. Either way, he wasn’t about to launch the weary animal again to confirm.

  He listened for several moments. He could still hear the vague screams of the hill giant in the distance.

  “That should be enough to spook monsters for miles around,” Gwen said.

  “Maybe,” Malem said. “We’re still going to have to keep watch.”

  He went to Bounder and confirmed that the iguanid was all right, and then he stripped off his robe and jacket—causing Felipe to leap onto a tree. The monkey climbed it and took up a position next to Spirit. Felipe had kept a glob of fecal matter hoarded in its arms, and the monkey promptly threw it at the hawk, prompting a retaliatory hiss.

  Malem removed his shirt next and cleared off the feces.

  Abigail was the closest to him, and she scrunched up her nose in the darkness.

  “You smell like monkey shit,” she said. “Either that, or you shat your pants.”

  “Probably a little of both,” he said.

  He helped Abigail and Xaxia dismount in the darkness, and then he released his hold on their horses. The party camped once more.

  “I’ll finish first watch,” Gwen said.

  “Really?” Xaxia said. “You didn’t do that great of a job last time.”

  “The spiders snuck right up to me,” Gwen said. “Sorry about that. Won’t happen again.”

  “I’ll take second watch,” Abigail said.

  Malem was relieved, since he needed a full night’s rest to recover his strength. Abigail could have probably used one, too, but that would mean she would have had to trust Xaxia to stand guard. Malem actually had no problem with the bandit keeping watch, because he intended to have Bounder, Felipe, and Spirit alternate as well.

  But he didn’t say anything.

  He was happy to let them decide amongst themselves.

  Instead, he dressed and retreated to the far side of the camp, where he lay down to close eyes that still burned slightly from the venom.

  He slept a full eight hours, and awakened with the dawn to find Abigail seated with her back popped against a tree nearby. Her head was bowed, and her eyes were closed.

  Nice watch standing.

  Well, at least the night had passed without any further encounters.

  Now that he was fully rested, he cast out with his mind, searching for nearby monsters. There were none that he could detect. Only animals. Some were dangerous, true, such as the bear on the peripheries of his senses, and the cougar prowling just beyond sight of the camp, but that was the extent of it.

  He was always amazed to find animals of any sort in the territories monsters ruled, animals not just surviving, but thriving: life always found a way. The beasts adapted by changing roles: predators became scavengers, hiding through the night, and then picking the meat from the carcasses left behind by monsters. Some might look at that as demeaning, with once noble animals such as cougars and bears being forced to rely on the leavings of others, but animals didn’t suffer from human pride.

  He didn’t want Abigail to catch any flak from the other two women for falling asleep on the job—even if it was probably deserved in this case—mostly because he wanted harmony among the party. If the group encountered more enemies, they needed to be at peace with one another, and fully trusting in their abilities, rather than constantly bickering and distrusting one another.

  So he decided to wake her up before anyone else woke. It would have to be done surreptitiously.

  Spirit was awake and on watch as ordered, so he had the hawk land next to Abigail and issue a soft squawk, waking her.

  Abigail’s head shot up. “Wha—” Her forearms lit up as she scanned her surroundings in confusion. When she noticed the hawk, she said: “Oh.”

  She glanced worriedly at the other women to see if she’d been caught snoozing on watch, but they were fast asleep. She cast a final glance in Malem’s direction, but he pretended to be under as well.

  She slumped in relief and he barely suppressed a smile.

  He ordered Spirit to land beside him and squawk louder, so he could pretend to wake up.

  He stretched and opened his eyes. “Morning, Spirit.” He held out his forearm, and the hawk landed on his bare skin. “Fetch me some rabbit.”

  Spirit took to the skies a bit too eagerly, its talons accidentally ripping a small wound into his arm. He applied healing unguent sparingly to the gash.

  Spirit returned ten minutes later with a freshly killed hare.

  Malem chopped off both legs for the hawk to eat, then cleaned the hare and threw it into a cook pot he pulled from his saddlebags. Gwen and Xaxia awoke to the smell of boiled meat, and the party members broke their fast on rabbit.

  Meanwhile Felipe scored a few eggs from a bird’s nest and kept them all to himself. Bounder didn’t eat—the iguanid was still sated from the spiders and oraks it had devoured the night before.

  “You know, I kind of feel sorry for the little guy,” Abigail said as she worried the meat from a rabbit bone.

  “I don’t,” Gwen said.

  “Neither do I,” Xaxia said. “An
imals were put here on this planet to feed us.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Malem tore into a piece of meat. “We’re not entitled to anything nature provides us with, neither animals nor plants. Which is why we have to take only what we need to survive. It’s always been my motto. Life in all forms is precious.”

  “That’s why you’re so poor, Breaker,” Xaxia said. “Taking more than what you need is a much better philosophy.”

  “And look at how well it’s served you,” he told her.

  “True enough,” she said. “Though my problem is I throw in my lot with the underdog far too often. And that’s why I end up trapped in the middle of monster territory, chased by oraks and their wolves, with only a bunch of misfits at my side. Talented misfits, admittedly, but misfits all the same.”

  “You just wish you could do what I do,” Abigail taunted.

  Xaxia pursed her lips. “And if you knew what I could do in bed, you’d want to be me, too. Just ask him.”

  Abigail’s face darkened and for a moment he thought she was going to burst into flames. Either that, or Xaxia would.

  Come on, peace and harmony, he willed toward Abigail, though he couldn’t sense her at all this morning—her mental guard was up fully.

  Thankfully, she kept the flames, and any venomous words, to herself.

  “What about monster life?” Gwen said abruptly.

  Malem glanced at the half gobling. He was glad she wasn’t wearing the robe. All that exposed green skin was really easy on the eyes. “What was that?”

  “You said life in all forms was precious,” Gwen explained. “So, what about monster life?”

  He considered for a moment. “Monster life, too, I suppose. Live and let live, that’s another one of my mottos.” He paused, then held up a hand. “Although... that only applies to a point. When the monsters are invading your land, threatening to overwhelm it and change your way of life, or to kill you outright, you can’t stand idly back. You have to take up the sword.”

  “If you truly believe that,” Abigail interrupted. “Why don’t you fight? The Alliance could use you.”

  “We’ve been over this before,” he told her. “I don’t fight in the wars of men.”

  “You say that like you’re not a man yourself,” Xaxia commented.

  He chuckled softly. “Ever one to go for the jugular, huh bandit?”

  She shrugged, giving him an innocent, all-too-sweet smile.

  “You’ve seen my Darkness,” he told her. “You know why I can’t fight.”

  “The Darkness,” Abigail mused. “That’s what you meant when you said many men would die if you went to the front lines.”

  “Yes,” Malem said.

  “But you promised us we would be safe, traveling with you,” Abigail pressed.

  “That’s because I know the Darkness won’t come,” Malem said.

  “What if it does?” Abigail said. “And you’re wrong?”

  “Then I’ll do something for you I wouldn’t do for those men on the front lines,” Malem said.

  “Oh?” Abigail said, rather haughtily. “And what’s that?”

  “I’ll sacrifice myself for you,” he told her.

  She didn’t know what to say to that.

  He felt a wave of concern from Gwen’s energy, and he sensed that she wanted to engage in a mental dialog with him to discuss this, but he dismissed it. There would be no discussion. If the Darkness came, and the only way to save them was to throw himself in its path, he would do it. He knew that now.

  Why do these three mean so much to me?

  But he already knew why. They had bonded while on the road. Fighting side-by-side for their lives against hordes of monsters would do that to anyone. It helped that he was intricately linked to one of them: Gwen. Who must not die no matter what happened.

  Though he had to wonder: if he died, because of the nature of their bond, would she succumb, too? Would she be dragged down to the underworld with him?

  No. He refused to believe that. Refused.

  Beside him, Bounder moaned in worry, sensing the black mood he suddenly found himself in. Malem patted the seated animal on the flanks consolingly. “It’s all right, boy.”

  The party members finished their breakfast in silence.

  Malem salted the spare rabbit meat and added it to his stores.

  Shortly thereafter they were back on their mounts, heading through the Midweald once more, making their way toward the northern eaves under the light of the morning sun.

  He relished in that light, knowing the dark would return, all too soon.

  21

  Malem continued to keep his beast senses searching at full tilt throughout the remainder of their journey through the Midweald. He detected another hill giant at one point—maybe the same one from last night—and they slowed their pace, giving it a wide berth and making as little noise as possible.

  When the hill giant was well behind them, they increased their pace once more.

  They reached a stream and refilled their canteens. They also washed their blood-encrusted robes. Well, those that still had them: Abigail had burned hers away, leaving only the red dress underneath.

  “I see now why you chose that as the color,” Xaxia said, nodding at Abigail.

  Abigail shrugged. “If you’re trying to imply that the blood blends in, you’d only be partially correct. The fact is, blood rarely touches me.”

  “That’s right, you burn your enemies,” Xaxia said. “That makes you somehow superior, does it?”

  Abigail sniffed, and returned to watching the surrounding woods with Felipe.

  They continued onward for the next hour. Malem had Spirit fly ahead, and he reported seeing the edge of the forest.

  “It should take about an hour, right on schedule,” he said.

  The undergrowth thickened once more, forcing them to wrap their faces and mounts in the protective blanket pieces they had saved. Gwen donned her freshly cleaned robes, which were still damp, but that was apparently preferable to the constant scratching of the branches. Probably cooling, too. He was a little disappointed to see her covered, as he rather enjoyed the previous view, but he supposed it was less distracting.

  There were some grumbles about that thick, nettling undergrowth, especially from Abigail, who complained it was slowing them down.

  “We’re officially out of monster territory,” Malem said to cheer them up. “Or at least, beyond where the spiders roam.”

  “Good!” Gwen said. “If I never see another spider again, I’ll be happy.”

  “Hey honey,” Xaxia said, riding alongside. She dangled a daddy-long legs pinched between thumb and forefingers.

  Gwen screamed, and spurred her horse forward through a series of brambles while Xaxia cackled.

  “You’re evil,” Abigail told her.

  Xaxia shrugged.

  The undergrowth soon became thick enough that they traveled in single file once again, with Bounder in the lead, and Malem chopping away with his sword. He worked up a good sweat, and chopped with far more enthusiasm then he had yesterday after the mentally draining orak battle.

  An hour later the party emerged from the eaves of the Midweald. Rolling hills covered in grassland filled the view to the north and northeast, with the forest edge meandering alongside the hillocks to the northwest.

  The party members promptly stripped off their protective wraps and lowered their hoods, and also removed the fabrics they’d folded around the heads of the horses. Gwen didn’t remove her robe this time. Too bad.

  When that was done, the party struck northeast through the tall grassland.

  “Are we heading toward the road?” Abigail asked.

  “For now,” Malem said.

  “Is that wise?” she pressed.

  “I need to orient myself,” he told her. “I can’t do that until we find the road. I don’t plan to do more than approach it from a distance.”

  “Good,” she said.

  They reached the ro
ad region shortly. As promised, Malem kept well away, letting Spirit scout the area.

  “Is the road usually this empty?” Gwen commented. She was standing on the back of Neeme and shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand as she surveyed the distant route.

  “Get down!” Xaxia hissed before Malem could say the same words. “You’ll give away our position!”

  “Sorry,” Gwen said. She quickly lowered herself back onto her horse’s flanks.

  “For a so-called hunter, you seem to know little about actual hunting,” Xaxia said.

  “I’m just not used to being the prey,” Gwen said. She glanced at Abigail. “I never did get an answer about the road. Is it always so empty?”

  Abigail nodded. “As I said before we took this route, there is very little direct trade between the Midweald and Fallow Gate, so traffic is expected to be low.”

  Malem led, keeping well away from the road, planning to mirror its course from two miles away with Spirit’s help. He rode between the hollows formed by the hills, his mount wading through the tall grass.

  Gwen rode in silence alongside Malem for a few moments. Then she blinked away sudden tears, and told him: “You know, I thought killing those oraks would make me feel good. And it did, for a little while. But the pain has returned, stronger than ever. I realize… no matter how many oraks I kill, it won’t bring back the villagers. My family. I still see their faces. Stricken, lying dead on the ground. Charred.”

  She swallowed before continuing. “The night before the attack, I was planning a trip with Farrier James and his family. We were going to go fishing, and maybe hunt some boar. Now they’re gone. I’m never going to see his daughter’s sweet little face again.” She shut her eyes in pain. Malem could feel the sheer rawness of it seeping through their link. “I don’t know what to do. No one knows they ever existed, except me. Their memories are forgotten to the world. No one… no one knows how important they were to me. How much pain their loss has caused. And I find myself asking, what’s the point of continuing to fight? What’s the point of… living?”

  “There is no point,” Malem said.

  “Some encourager you are!” Xaxia quipped from his other side. “If I’m ever down, remind me never to look to you for a spirit boost.”