by C. M. Carney
“Is it dead?” Simon asked.
“It has a bunch of holes shot through it, so I’d say yes,” Vonn said. “But then Simon does too, so maybe we should make sure.”
Simon gave Vonn a sour look and opened his mouth to retort, but a high-pitched scream interrupted him. Everyone turned, weapons at the ready as a short, dark blue blur of a bläärt ran by them and dove onto the drake’s lower jaw, nearly impaling itself on a tooth.
“Bläärt is the last bläärt,” the bläärt, the last of the bläärts if his claim was accurate, yowled and beat his tiny fists against the corpse’s face.
A deep sadness filled Lex on watching the diminutive creature’s pain. “Today has seen too much death.” Apparently, the universe had been lying in wait for Lex’s prophetic buffoonery, because the moment the words passed his lips, the drake’s mouth widened and a rush of gas rumbled from inside, causing Lex to jump back and grip his hammer tighter.
“Was that a burp?” Simon asked, hiding behind Errat.
“Nah, just built up gas escaping,” Lex said. A moment later, the drake burped again and its body spasmed with the threat of vomit. The mouth opened wider and spat out the sputum slathered sphere that was Rubik. Everyone flinched as the mutated Duo-Quadrata slid down the tongue and plopped onto the deck. It rolled about until it found a new equilibrium, the closed, central eye pointing at them.
Everyone stepped back, but Rubik made no further movements. Lex reached out a tentative hand and placed it atop Rubik’s head, like a man comforting his loyal old pup as the euthanasia drugs took her life.
“What in the abyss are you doing?” Seraphine hissed.
“Saying goodbye.”
“To the chaos eyeball death monster?” Simon asked, incredulous.
“He wasn’t always a chaos eyeball death monster,” Lex said, turning a harsh gaze on Simon. “He was once a loyal…”
“Did he not rip out friend Lex’s eyeball and eat it?” Errat’s uncharacteristic interruption brought a scowl to Lex’s lips and changed what he was about to say.
“… acquaintance.” Lex finished and turned back to Rubik. “It’s my fault. I’m the one who turned him into this. I wish I could tell him I’m sorry.”
Rubik’s gummed up central eye snapped open, making Lex yelp, and he fell back onto his haunches. It took a moment for the eye to focus, but when it settled on Lex, it looked livid. The smaller eyestalks pulled through the digestive muck and took aim at Lex. A flash of white surged past the NPC, skewering the large eyeball like an olive destined for a martini. The eyestalks went limp and the light in the central eye dimmed. Lex did not move, but his eyes turned back to Vonn.
“What did I tell you about taking in strays?” Vonn pulled the blade from Rubik, wiped it down with a practiced motion and sheathed it with a snap. He helped Lex up and bowed his head to acknowledge Lex’s pain.
Lex gripped his friend’s forearm in thanks. He tried convincing himself that the grief and the guilt were foolish. You couldn’t have predicted Rubik would mutate into a floating death eyeball, a part of his brain muttered, the part that was always so talkative whenever there was a need to make excuses and deflect blame.
“Shut up, you asshole,” Lex muttered, and the voice went silent, cowering back to its hole.
“Since I know you’re not talking to me,” Vonn said. “Should I worry you’re losing your shit?”
A wry smile crossed Lex’s face at his friend’s adoption of one of his turns of phrase. “I’m beginning to think I'm a bad influence on you.”
“Trust me, I’ve had several lifetimes of bad influences, and you don’t even crack the top ten.”
Lex chuckled, gripped his friend’s arm tighter and nodded his thanks. “If we live through this, I’ll need all the details.”
“Not on your life.”
The sound of a blade sawing fleshrose, and Lex looked down to see Seraphine cutting Rubik’s eye stalks off with a dagger.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“This creature was unique in all the Realms, which means its parts will be worth something to somebody.”
Seraphine didn’t bother to stop or look up, and rage built inside Lex. He could not say if it was the disrespect or the brazen desecration, but a distinct desire to murder the assassin filled Lex. Vonn grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.
“She’s right,” Vonn said. “Loot is loot.”
“I know,” Lex said after several seconds, his voice low and cold. “But does she have to do it right in front of me?”
“You don’t like it, don’t watch,” Seraphine said.
The muscles in Lex’s jaw clenched, and he glared down on her. “If you weren’t in Furrick’s body, I’d…”
“Get me home and back to my real body and I’ll let you do lots of things,” she said, turning and giving him a coy wink. Coming, as it was, via Furrick’s face, the gesture caused Lex’s stomach to roil. He wanted nothing more than to smack the smug look from her face but knew he could not.
“Why don’t we go check out the damage to the ship,” Vonn said and with gentle pressure, he led Lex away from Seraphine.
His anger eased with each step, replaced by a mélange of other emotions; regret, insecurity, fear. He hung his head and let himself go numb. His steps became heavy, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up under a warm blanket and hide from the world.
A sharp slap to the face brought him back.
“We’ll have none of that,” Vonn said, cutting off any complaints. “I know you didn’t want this. That you wish Gryph were here. Well so do I.”
Lex glared up at the rogue.
“Oh, quit being so damn insulted and stop pouting. Do you think Gryph has it all together? Do you think he’s not making shit up as he goes? Cuz, I’m here to tell you, what you’re going through is what he does. It’s what all leaders worth a damn feel. What makes some good and some bad, is how they deal with the aftermath of their decisions. I have one question for you. Are you gonna crumble or are you gonna stand tall?”
Lex met Vonn’s eyes with purpose, dredging all the strength he could muster into him and he nodded. Vonn clapped him on the back
“Good.”
“You said stand tall on purpose, didn’t you?” Lex asked, bringing attention to his oft-maligned height.
“Course I didn’t. A mere slip of the tongue.” Vonn turned and walked away.
“You’re full of it, Vonn Siddig.”
“Course I am.”
Lex smiled and then followed his friend, surprised at the lightness of his mood. He walked up to Simon, and despite everything, he was feeling pretty good. Maybe we'll live after all. He put a reassuring hand on Simon’s shoulder, a hand that said ‘I understand your feelings and I am here for you. Together we can get through anything.’
“We’re screwed,” Simon said, his eyes on the wrecked ship.
30
Simon wasn’t wrong. The ship was a mess. The falling drake had snapped the main mast, bringing both sails and nearly all the rigging down with it. The few remaining ropes swayed back and forth in front of the red-orange backdrop of swirling clouds. The sight dredged up images of the primal horror he’d felt while battling the chaos spiders. Lex shivered at the memory, but it triggered something else, curiosity.
“Why does this ship have sails?”
“Duh, it’s a sailing ship,” Simon said, again showing his mastery of the teenage know-it-all tone.
“It has engines and bläärts.” Lex paused and looked down on the lone bläärt in apology. “Had bläärts. What does it need with sails?”
“Perhaps the Master wished to be thorough, in case he ran out of fuel, or bläärts,” Errat suggested.
“Good theory, but have you felt any winds since we’ve been here?” The others all considered for a moment, and one by one shook their heads no. “Right. Sails require reliable and steady winds, and the closest thing to steady and reliable we’ve run across in this crappy realm is Gaarm. Now I know no
ne of you know him the way I do, but trust me when I say this, you're lucky you don’t, and Gaarm being the reliable one is a bad omen.”
“So, you’re saying we should cut the masts down, toss the debris overboard and make sail without sails?” Simon asked. “What if we run out of fuel again? One bläärt won’t pedal us out of this.”
“First off, the bläärt isn’t here to pedal. He’s here to operate the refueling system,” Lex said, looking down on the small blue man. The bläärt eyed Lex nervously, before beaming a one-toothed grin. “And second, I’m sick of calling him Bläärt the bläärt. He needs a name, one that lets him stand out, be his own man.”
Vonn leaned in and whispered into Lex’s ear. “Once you name it, you’ll become attached to it, just like Rubik.”
Lex waved Vonn off and brought a hand to his chin in thought. “What name fits you? How about Bart. No, too similar. Um, Harold? No.” Then with a grin and a snap of his fingers, he pointed at the bläärt. “I’ve got it. I hereby name you, Steve.”
“Steve? That’s a stupid name for a bläärt,” Simon said. “It’s almost as bad as Rubik.”
A flare of anger tinged guilt rose in Lex. He held Simon’s gaze until the teenager averted his gaze. Once that battle was won, he crouched down and extended his hand. “What do ya say, Steve?”
The bläärt extended his hand tentatively, then pulled it back, nervous energy filling his eyes. Lex smiled, trying to reassure the creature. Finally, the bläärt smiled, stood tall, spat a greasy glob onto his palm, and grabbed Lex’s hand. “Bläärt am now Steve the bläärt.”
“Uh, it’s good to have you aboard Steve,” Lex said, grimacing as the gobbet of bläärt snot squished against his palm. Steve saluted, turned, and walked away, legs high stepping in happy pride.
Lex stared at the mess on his hand, looked at his pristine robes, and then smirked at Simon. Before the undead teen realized his intention, Lex wiped his hand across the front of Simon’s jerkin. The undead teenager’s mouth hung open, and he sputtered before regaining his composure.
“How dare you,” he sputtered.
“Go help Seraphine hack up the dragon,” Lex said, his irritation at Simon undimmed.
“I’m the Barrow King, undead lich lord, and necromancer. I’m no janitor.”
“Can you reanimate the dragon?”
“No. I might be able to do that inside the Barrow.”
“Well, until we’re back there, you’re a janitor, just like Rubik.” Lex turned his back on the teen and walked to the helm, staring intently into the morass of clouds. Vonn followed, and after a short-lived glare, Simon stomped over to the drake corpse. Seraphine held a knife up to him, and with slumped shoulders, Simon began to harvest.
“You forgot he’s the only one who knows how to pilot the ship, didn’t you?” Vonn asked.
“I totally did,” Lex admitted, placing his hands on his hips like a conquering admiral. “More to the point, Simon did as well. So we’ll give it a few minutes, I’ll congratulate him on a job well done, we’ll throw the debris overboard, and we’ll be on our way.”
“On our way where?”
“Not a clue, but we’ll figure it out. After all this ...” Lex waved his hand around the deck. “… we’re due for a bit of good luck.”
The words were barely past his lips when a large shadow crept over them. All eyes on board looked up to see a massive craft block out whatever odd source illuminated the Realm.
“You ever get tired of being Lady Luck’s bitch?” Vonn asked, drawing his sword.
“Just about every time I open my mouth.”
Lex grabbed his hammer and filled it with Spirit energy. The others took their places behind Lex and Vonn, each prepping whatever method of attack they favored. The ship continued to drift above them, and Lex began to hope they hadn’t seen them at all.
Just a gang of chaos assholes out for a lovely afternoon fly.
The sound of cannons firing interrupted Lex’s thoughts, and two harpoons trailing chains smashed into the decking near the prow and stern. The decks groaned, and the ship lurched to a halt. Twin creaks of rusting metal rose, and their ship inched towards the attackers. Thick black plates resembling scales covered the hull of the massive ship. The haphazard manner the plates were attached suggested there had been little planning and no standardized methodology.
A pair of large, smoking engines extended from the hull on thick pylons, presumably to keep the foul clouds of oily exhaust away from the crew. If the slick muck covering every surface was any indication, the design was lacking.
Soon, the two ships were close enough for their crews to see each other, and Lex’s heart sunk. They were outnumbered at least ten to one, even if you included Steve the bläärt, who’d scampered below deck at the first sign of trouble.
“Great, chaos pirates,” Simon mumbled, his gaze moving up and down the line of oddly dressed enemies.
“They look more like bad cosplayers at a third-rate horror con,” Lex countered.
“Did I hear you say horror?” a large, three-armed man asked. “Cuz me and the boys here loves us some horror, and terror and screaming and all them accompanying bits.”
“No, no,” Lex said. “I said honor, as in it is an honor to meet you…” Lex left his question hanging, giving the chaos fiend the time to tell them his name.
“I am known as Krenaaz the Defiler,” the leader said. “Is it really an honor?”
“Yes, and a tremendous honor at that.”
“Really?” Krenaaz pulled his third arm up to scratch the back of his head. It was an awkward motion since the arm used sprouted from his midsection and had trouble getting by the massive two-handed sword held point down with his other two hands. “Nobody’s ever been honored to meet us. Course that’s usually cuz we’re about to kill them and toss them into the cooking pot.”
Raucous laughter boiled over the crowd, and Krenaaz beamed at his wit. A henchman, a rather squat fellow with several too many eyes, leaned in close and whispered something in Krenaaz's ear. The three-armed fiend scowled and tried to wave the man off, but the shorter fellow was quite insistent. The leader shrugged his shoulders in defeat before turning back to Lex.
“My esteemed colleague here wishes me to inform you that not all of us like our meat cooked. Somes of us likes it raw, especially when it’s dwarf.”
“I’m Ordonian.”
“Really?” Krenaaz looked down on his underling. The smaller man stomped, spat something unintelligible at Lex, and pushed his way through the crowd. “Oh, now you’ve gone and upset him.”
“Um, yeah, sorry about that. Please accept my humblest apologies. Guess we’ll be on our way.”
Krenaaz laughed. “I like you mate. You have an amusing demeanor to you, but unfortunately, I can’t just let you go. The boss frowns on that kinda thing.”
“Boss?” Simon asked.
“Mixengettorax, the Lord of Carnage, the Flayer of Flesh, the Maestro of Slaughter, the Slurper of Marrow, etcetera, etcetera. He’s my great, great uncle on my mother’s side.”
“I knew you looked familiar. You have his … eyes.”
“I do?” He wiped the grime off a nearby minion’s metal breastplate and used it as a mirror. “Well, I would say thank you, but I suspect you are not being truthful.”
“Course I am,” Lex said, his tone offended. “Would I lie?”
“I damned well hope so. We take none too kindly to folks who speak the truth around here.” He huffed and puffed. “I don’t mind the lie so much, as it was an ill-spoken one.”
“I don’t follow,” Lex said, a looming sense of doom filling him.
“Nobody who gets close enough to see my uncle lives to tell the tale. The only thing Ol’ Mixxy loves better than bad news is eating thems that delivers said bad news. Everyone knows that.”
“Well, right,” Lex said, mind scrambling. “Obviously, everybody knows that. But I delivered good news, so he told me I’d done an excellent job, said here’s some gold a
nd a ship and tell anyone you meet that you’re under my protection and they need to send you on your way with plenty of food, fuel, and some decent directions.”
“Really?”
“Truthfully and honestly.”
“Well, now I know you’re lying, the Boss hates truth almost as much as he does honesty.”
“Which is why I just lied to you.” Lex’s head pounded from the moronic back and forth, but he needed to push for any delay, any advantage.
“Ah, ha,” Krenaaz said and pointed all three forefingers at Lex. “I see what you did there. Well played. Dishonesty through honesty, an excellent ploy.” He looked down on Lex. “You know, it’s a shame that I still have to murder you. You seem like horrible enough blokes, the kinda guys I could toss back a few pints with, but killing you will impress the Boss and might punch my ticket to Earth.”
“Earth?” Lex said rather more loudly than he should have.
31
The creeping fear that had wormed its way through Lex’s body since the moment they’d landed in the Realm of Chaos became a torrent that chilled him to the bone. He understood, at least on an intellectual level, that the Princes of Chaos were malevolence personified. They had been locked away in the Realm of Chaos since the beginning of time by the Source itself. Since then, they’d worked tirelessly to escape their prison. They had one goal; to spread chaos to all the Realms.
It had never occurred to him they’d go after Earth. Never occurred to him they could.
“What do you mean, your ticket to Earth?” Lex asked. Every molecule in his body was buzzing, humming with dread. He could barely conceive of the concept. The military forces of Earth had powerful weapons, but they had no experience with the powers of magic, especially the horrific reality-bending power of chaos.
A chaos invasion of Earth would leave the planet a blasted wasteland.
“What, you ain’t heard? This really is the ass end of the R-O-C. Everyone’s talking ‘bout it, or at least thems of us tryin’ to impress one Prince or ‘nother with our misdeeds.”
