The Best of Deep Magic- Anthology One

by Jeff Wheeler

  “Five stings on poor Trea,” the Serpentarium mocked. “Well, since you like to cause pain, girl, I’m sure you can handle taking it.”

  “What do you want from me?” Rista whimpered, unable to break free. She saw the grizzly skulking toward them from the woods, the huge Damon Papenfuss coming from behind.

  “I really just need you alive, that’s all,” Kree said with a biting coldness in his voice. His eyes were like the snake’s, utterly devoid of sentiment. “Until your father is dead. I can’t have him ruining all my plans like he did to the Overlord, now can I?” He looked up at Trea, who was still gripping Rista and holding the knife to her throat.

  “I think one bite is worth five stings. Will that satisfy you, Trea?”

  “For now,” huffed the angered woman.

  Rista stared at them both in fear and horror.

  “Not on the leg, or she won’t be able to walk all night,” Mattson Kree said menacingly. “How about her arm then? You think a little bee sting hurts, Rista? I have magic that can purge the atrox’s venom. But you need to feel it working first. You think you’re so clever? I control every atrox in these mountains. They mostly hunt at night. You think slipping away from me will save you? You think your insignificant bee magic is going to save you? Trust me, little girl.” His tone went flat with ruthless intensity. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

  His eyes flashed with hatred and he nodded to the woman pinning Rista. Trea untwisted Rista’s arm and exposed the meaty portion just below the elbow. The snake’s fangs flashed down, sinking into Rista’s arm. It was painful, like getting jabbed by pins. But then the venom began to turn her blood into fire.

  Trea dumped her on the ground as the convulsions began to shake through her legs. As the pain began spreading throughout Rista’s body, the Serpentarium casually gathered up the snake and gently lowered it into the leather satchel he wore around his neck. Rista’s eyes bulged with pain, but she wouldn’t cry out. The pain in her arm grew worse and worse.

  She could not sense any bees around for miles.

  * * *

  The atrox venom was the most painful thing that had happened to Rista. She knew it would kill her if left unchecked. After Mattson Kree was satisfied she had suffered enough, he offered relief in the form of a glass vial with a stopper. Inside the egg-shaped crystal was a murky liquid. He brought the vial to her arm and looked as if he would pour it on her skin. Instead, the vial began to glow and the murky liquid seemed to suck the venom out of her bleeding punctures. She stared at it, quivering with pain and agony, but fascinated by the magic being wielded. The flaming sensation began to calm and then it was gone, expelled from her body. The murky contents of the vial were darker now, swirling malevolently. He crouched by her, his eyes devious as he showed her the vial, and then he stuffed it into a pouch at his waist and stood.

  “I know you have magic, Rista,” he said in a threatening tone. “I would encourage you to use it to keep any bees from getting near us. Your father will likely send them to hunt you. If I hear even one insect close enough, believe me—you will regret it. Keep them away from us and you will not get hurt anymore. Do we understand one another?”

  “Why should I help you at all?” Rista said angrily, clenching her fists. “You said you would kill my father.”

  His eyes narrowed. “There are many ways one can die, child. Remember that.” Then he turned to the others. “The sun is down. We need to be at the top of the pass before dawn to destroy the guards stationed there. Onward.”

  Rista rubbed the swollen bite marks on her forearm. As she walked, she searched the shrubs and vegetation for a sign of the kobold. Twig was nowhere to be seen.

  After nightfall descended, they hiked by moonlight up to the craggy heights of the Arvadin. The trees became denser, thick with pine needles and cone-shaped tops. The mountains grew steeper as they climbed, but they headed toward a gap between two peaks that still contained chunks of snow and ice. The air grew steadily thinner and Rista found herself gasping for breath to keep up with her captors. Papenfuss and Kylek took the lead, lumbering up the trail. The girl, Trea, no longer wearing the wig, scowled at Rista every time she happened to glance back at her. She kept her longbow ready and covered their trail to make it more difficult to follow. Gabe walked alongside Mattson Kree, conferring with him in low tones, but eventually he dropped back to walk alongside Rista.

  “So you are the king’s son,” Rista said with malice.

  “The king’s youngest son,” he replied casually. “The most useless. The least wanted. I have a better chance becoming master of Stanchion castle allying myself with this lot than I ever had before.”

  “Your father is a good man, an honest king!” Rista said angrily.

  “A fat lot of good it does him too,” Gabe replied with a chuckle. “And what do you know about politics, Rista? You live far away from court. The factions surrounding my father, constantly wheedling and maneuvering. He can hardly get anything done with all the opposition he faces. A king should have power. Not be a slave to the people.” He chuckled derisively.

  Rista’s insides boiled with anger. “And I suppose you think life would be better under the heel of another overlord? Mattson Kree may grant you your father’s throne, but you’ll be his puppet.”

  “Oh yes, I’m sure you’ve got it all figured out,” Gabe said with a snort. “Your father is reputedly the wisest man in all the realm. And look how easily we abducted you. Everyone knew that he was going to Apple Hill. Everyone knew that he left you all unprotected. So wise . . . yet so blind. Are you just like your father?”

  Rista bridled at his taunt, but she tried to keep her voice calm. “And what of the Enclave? Do you think they will sit still while your master seeks to reclaim Battle Mountain? Surely the true Ilias will come.”

  Gabe sniffed and shrugged. “That is a problem, Rista, when your eagles can see so far away. But they can only see during the daylight. They don’t see what happens in the dark.” He was walking closer to her now, his voice dropping lower, almost conspiratorially. “It is a different world at night. A world of bats. A world of croaking frogs. A world of shadows and drunks and laughter and dicing and all sorts of other evils that would make a young woman like you blush. Even the bees cannot sting at night.”

  She folded her arms, feeling a strangeness in her belly as he spoke. His tone was almost confiding.

  “That’s not true, you know,” she said, shaking her head. “Bees can sting at night.”

  “Really?” he said, surprised.

  “Think on it, Gabe. The time people are most likely to be stung are when the bees are out of their hives and people are out of their homes. At night, both are inside. But if you jammed a stick into a hive in the middle of the night, they’d come out fighting.”

  “Humph,” Gabe said with a chuckle. “You may be wiser than I thought.”

  He butted her with his arm and then hiked to catch up to Mattson Kree. And proceeded to warn him about what she had just told him. She gritted her teeth and wished she could summon a swarm into his shirt.

  * * *

  The night began to peel away and they had still not reached the summit. Rista was exhausted and felt her eyelids drooping. Mattson Kree looked impatient and angered by the delay. They were waiting for Trea to return from hiding their trail. The Serpentarium had his boot planted on a jutting rock and stared up at the mountains almost in defiance.

  “How much farther to the summit, Papenfuss?” he asked.

  The bearlike man shrugged. “It’s not much further, but we’ll be seen approaching in the light.”

  Trea came jogging up from the hill, a worried look on her face.

  “What is it?” Gabe asked her in concern.

  “I saw someone,” she said.

  Everyone turned to face her. “Saw someone or something?” Mattson Kree clarified.

  Trea rubbed her arm, keeping her bow flush against her body. “A man. He’s coming up to the pass.”

&nb
sp; Rista’s heart leaped and a small smile crept onto her mouth.

  “Tell me what you saw,” Mattson Kree said patiently, his eyes narrowing.

  “A man with gray hair,” Trea said. “He was hiking quickly with a walking stick. There was something scrabbling alongside him. A raccoon or a small dog.”

  Twig. Rista smiled even wider.

  “Is it the Beesinger?” Gabe asked Mattson Kree.

  “I have to assume that it is,” he answered darkly. “He doesn’t need footprints to track us.” He rubbed his mouth. “Well, he’s come a lot sooner than I suspected.”

  A thrill of hope tingled inside of Rista. Her father was coming. But what could he do against so many?

  “What do we do?” Gabe asked. He had a worried sound in his voice.

  Trea spoke up. “If we wait here during the day, he’ll catch up to us well before nightfall. If we keep going, we’ll be seen by the soldiers.”

  “I know,” Mattson Kree said angrily. “I’m not worried about the soldiers. There are enough atrox in these mountains to kill them all. This is what we do. Papenfuss, you will wait here and ambush the Beesinger with Kylek. We’ll go ahead and clear the pass.”

  “We’ll be seen!” Trea said worriedly, pointing to the skies. “Let’s all wait for the Beesinger and ambush him together.”

  Rista felt worry trembling in her stomach. There were four of them against her father, and he was old. There was also Twig. And of course, she would do what she could.

  Mattson Kree shook his head. “He’ll be no match for Papenfuss, let alone a grizzly.”

  Rista had to do something. She saw them conferring closely, ready to make a decision that would kill her father. If she could run ahead, she could warn the soldiers and bring them down to help. Although she was tired, the sudden panic lent her strength, and she glanced up the trailhead, wondering how far the gap in the pass would be. Trea had her bow, and she had no doubt the woman would shoot at her, but she had to try something!

  Rista glanced once more at the trail and prepared to bolt when suddenly Gabe was standing next to her, gripping her arm with his hand. She tried to shake him loose, but he clenched her so tightly it hurt.

  “That wouldn’t be wise,” he whispered to her.

  “What are you doing, Gabe?” Mattson Kree demanded.

  “She was about to run! You were all looking the other way and I saw her. We’d better gag her, just to be safe.”

  “Do it,” the Serptentarium ordered, glowering.

  Gabe withdrew a wadded rag and stuffed it into her mouth and began tying it roughly behind her. “I like your hair,” he whispered, tightening the knot. “It’s like sunshine.”

  She gave him a withering look and he only chuckled at her, returning to grip her arm.

  “You are so naive,” he scoffed, making her even angrier. She’d lost her chance to warn her father and cursed herself for being too slow. She should have bolted the moment the idea struck her. But Gabe was watchful. She’d remember that. She kicked him in the shins out of pure spite and anger, and he winced, startled.

  “She does have a stinger after all,” he mused, then pulled her along toward the others. She watched helplessly as Papenfuss and Kylek began to lumber down the mountain. The worry in her stomach turned to sickening fear. No human could outrun a bear. Her father had made sure he had taught his children that.

  * * *

  Mattson Kree walked ahead of them now, climbing up the steep slope toward the gap. Gabe marched with Rista next to him, one hand on her arm to keep her close to him. He kept glancing nervously back at Trea who was scouting for signs of what happened down the trail.

  The Serpentarium’s fancy cloak was brown with dust and dirt from the hike. He looked sternly ahead, his brow furrowed in concentration.

  “He’s summoning them,” Gabe whispered to Rista.

  She couldn’t answer him because of the gag and was wondering why he was even bothering to tell her.

  “He is powerful. And ruthless. He’ll do what he says he’ll do. His goal is to destroy the Enclave and put himself the master of it.” He pursed his lips. “He just may accomplish it too. If anyone could, it would be him.”

  Rista tried to jerk her arm away again, but he wouldn’t loosen his hold.

  “He is enemies with the Enclave,” Gabe continued, as if she were holding an equal part of the conversation with him. “He tried to earn his way there, to be admitted. He learned about serpent taming, which admittedly takes a great deal of courage. The homestead where he grew up was situated on a viper’s nest. No one knew it.” He chuffed to himself, shaking his head. “Killed his entire family. He was the only one who survived. His aunt raised him.” Gabe rubbed his jaw. “He grew and mastered his fear of snakes. He was determined to reclaim the abandoned homestead. And he did. He surely did. He began to develop a reputation of taming atrox and helped other families rid their properties. For a fee. He was doing everyone a great service, so he thought. But the Enclave refused to admit him. They saw something unworthy in his motives, I think. By denying him entrance, they provoked him. He learned at a young age that when you set your mind to something, however impossible the ambition, you will succeed if you do not falter. He’s the sort of man who could overcome my father’s kingdom and set himself as a tyrant.”

  Rista looked at him, again confused at why he was talking to her in such a way. He wasn’t boasting. He was speaking in a low, conspiratorial voice, almost as if he were trying to confide in her.

  She wanted to ask him questions but the gag prevented it.

  “Watch how he uses his power,” Gabe said, nodding. “Pay attention.”

  Rista kept her eyes fixed on Mattson Kree. He unlatched the satchel he carried and then hefted out the enormous atrox. The man’s face brightened as he held the serpent. He seemed to be speaking to it, whispering to it in a strange, encouraging way. Then he set it down on the ground as he kept walking toward the ridge ahead of them. Rista felt something brush against her and saw with terror another atrox slither past. They were emerging from the woods and brush all around them, flocking to the Serpentarium as if he were invoking them.

  “He’s been summoning them for a while,” Gabe whispered. “See how they come to him. The mountains are full of atrox.”

  Gabe kept Rista back a few paces as she watched the serpents writhe and slither around their master’s legs. They came in a horde, first dozens, and then hundreds, until the entire trail was full. Some hissed and reared at each other, as if fighting to be closest to him. It was like a river of snakes, and it horrified Rista to see it. She was trembling uncontrollably at the sight and felt Gabe’s hand tighten on her arm. They were walking amidst the river of snakes also and she saw the uncomfortable look on his face. He wasn’t enjoying it either.

  Then the shouts of men started up again. The soldiers saw the threat. There were cries of pain. Rista cringed as she heard the noises, the groans of men, the shrieks of fear. This was awful magic. This was the stuff of nightmares.

  The serpents converged on the gap ahead and all the while he walked, the Serpentarium smiled with glee and satisfaction. He reached the top of the ridge and stopped, staring down at the scene before him. He chuckled to himself, satisfied at what his power had invoked.

  Gabe and Rista reached his side, and she stared down, growing sick at the vision of soldiers wearing the tunic of Stanchion castle spread out on the ground, some still twitching as the venom overwhelmed them in moments. The sight horrified her and made her tremble. There were at least two dozen soldiers. Some had perished while trying to climb up on boulders. All were slumped and fallen. The serpents had done their work quickly. The river of snakes would have been able to handle ten times that number. In fact, she realized with horror, it would be enough to stop an army. She thought she’d be sick. She knew she’d have nightmares.

  The cruel look in Mattson Kree’s eyes as he glanced at her spoke of his willingness to do anything to achieve his goals.

  “What n
ow?” Gabe asked solemnly.

  “We await word of the Beesinger’s death,” he said coldly, and his look made Rista even more afraid.

  * * *

  It was an agonizing wait and Rista took a long time falling asleep in one of the tents used by the soldiers. She couldn’t stop thinking about the soldier whose tent it was. She had been raised on her father’s stories of adventure, but now she understood a part of the sadness that was always in his eyes. Gabe was positioned outside to guard her, but she was so tired and heartsick, she eventually fell asleep.

  A tug at the gag awakened her and she blinked her eyes quickly, confused and trembling. She felt little claws digging at the bond and suddenly the gag loosened. She turned her head and saw Twig. Her heart leaped with excitement.

  Rubbing her eyes, she tried to contain her emotions. Gabe was no longer patrolling the door. She heard his voice outside, talking to Trea and Mattson Kree.

  “What do you mean he’s dead?” the Serpentarium said with fury. “He’s an aging man, how did he manage to kill Damon Papenfuss?”

  Trea’s voice was full of worry. “Kylek turned on him. Kylek killed him!”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Gabe said. “One person’s magic cannot be used against another form of animal.”

  “I know that!” Mattson Kree snapped. “It’s not possible. Tell me what you saw. What you saw, Trea!”

  “It happened very fast,” the woman said. “Papenfuss sent the bear down to kill him. It was quite a distance from me, so I couldn’t see it well. Kylek is huge! He roared and came down to fight and then suddenly . . . I don’t know . . . he was distracted. He kept swatting his face.”

  “Bees,” the Serpentarium said with a shiver of revulsion in his voice. Rista peeked through the tent and saw the emotion of fear in his eyes.

  “Of course it was bees!” Gabe snapped. “He’s a Beesinger, after all! But bears have thick hide. They destroy hives all the time.”

  “The bear was distracted. Then the Beesinger went around the bear and charged at Papenfuss. He’s no match for the giant, but suddenly a swarm struck him. I saw it. He was crying out and swinging his arms. The Beesinger hit him with a pack. A bag. Something. He clubbed him in the head but kept running. Then Kylek came and attacked Papenfuss. He killed him. I saw it! Then the bees started coming up the mountain and after me, so I ran. We have to get out of here! He’s brought a whole swarm with him!”