“I can make that happen,” Vivek promised.
“What do I need to do?” Angst asked, licking sweet drink from his lips. He was so thirsty, his hand gripped the chalice firmly.
“Lay down your sword,” Vivek advised. “Step away from the battle. Just as your wife has asked, it’s time to stop being a hero.”
Angst sighed in relief as though this was the answer he sought, even if he couldn’t remember the question. “That’s it?”
“Nothing else, Angst,” Vivek said. “You will see your friends home tomorrow. Your princess will be alive and safe. Life will go on.”
“It seems too good to be true,” Angst said. He drank again from the chalice and felt more than a little spinny. “What about the others?”
“The others?” Vivek asked.
“Everyone else,” Angst said, throwing an arm in a wide arc. “What about my not-friends? The Nordroot? The Fulkinn? What about the people of Melkeerr?”
“I can’t promise you everyone will survive what will come to pass,” Vivek said.
“I can’t leave them unprotected,” Angst slurred.
“Haven’t you lost enough? Haven’t enough friends died?” Vivek continued. “How many more deaths do you want on your conscience?”
His thoughts were thick as sludge. He wanted his friends safe, and somehow knew Vivek could deliver. But, someone else had a Tori, or a Hector, or a Rose. They were just as important as his friends were to him. What kind of hero was he if he abandoned everyone? If he abandoned anyone? He knew he couldn’t save everyone on Ehrde, but he couldn’t just walk away from them either.
“Your offer is fair, and gracious,” Angst said, forcing the words out around his thick tongue. “But I decline.”
“What?” Vivek asked.
“This is bigger than me, and my friends. They would all give their lives to save innocents.” Angst said sincerely. “What kind of hero would I be if I traded their lives for me and mine?”
“But your friends will die if you don’t,” Vivek said. “You will die! Your wife and children...”
Angst stood, the chair flew backward, and he slammed his fist on the stone table. A wide crack appeared, reaching across the marble to Vivek, who stared down in surprise.
“Don’t you dare threaten my family!” he said, his hand glowing a bright blue.
Vivek stood. “Tell me, boy, is this your choice? Do you sacrifice your friends and family just to be a hero?”
“No,” Angst declared. “I’ll save them, and I’ll save everyone! I choose to do the right thing!”
The room shook, and the distant fire blazed and grew, shaping into something almost human. It approached the table, raw heat emanating painfully as it closed.
“I told you this was a waste of time!” Fire’s voice crackled.
“Are we doing this now?” Angst snapped. “As I see it, three down, two to go!”
Fire grew, and Vivek stood defensively.
“Wait! You’re not the Vivek, or the Dark Vivek,” Angst said. “I know you!”
“And you will barely remember any of this!” Vivek snapped.
“We can’t fight here,” Angst said, realization dawning. “Or you would have killed me already.”
Neither creature said a word. He was safe! Angst smiled, reached for the chalice and took a deep drink. He set it down and wiped his mouth. Pointing at Fire, he said, “Let’s start with you. I’ll take you out first!”
Fire roared, but Angst ignored him, facing the one who called himself Vivek.
“And then you,” Angst said to Vivek. “Tell me, what happens when I win? Is that when I become an element?”
“Like we discussed,” Vivek said to Fire. “Kill everyone he loves, starting with his friends.”
19
Angst’s eyes drew open slowly, as if he were trying to peel an orange that wasn’t ripe. His head didn’t merely throb, but rather made a thudding sound like a trapped monster anxious to get free. He foggily thought through his various discomforts and wondered if this hangover would be the thing to finally kill him. His burning stomach wanted nothing more than to empty its contents. Angst hated throwing up, for any reason, and began to take deep, soothing breaths. The bed was entirely too warm, and he wiped slick sweat from his face with his free hand. Wait...why was only one hand free?
His other hand was numb and tingling painfully under Faeoris’ neck. Her firm breasts were once again nicely squished against his chest. He looked down to see her long, dark hair that smelled like fresh rain over a field in springtime. One of her legs was wrapped over his stiff knee, which popped as he shifted his weight. Angst’s concerns became far more powerful than his burgeoning hangover. What had he done last night, especially with Faeoris? How could he uncouple himself to go use the bathroom? Weren’t there twins involved in this dream? Why hadn’t beautiful young women crawled into bed with him before he got married?
Angst vaguely remembered chasing twins to his room before they disappeared. That was neat. All he’d wanted to do was sleep, and dream of them, but Aerella had made him repeat everything about the twins. She was mostly concerned about the buttons on Karina’s fitted vest, of all things, referring to them as gears. Angst had said goodnight to a nagging Aerella, sort of promising to stay away from them. They didn’t look dangerous, though; they looked delicious. Perfect, even. He hoped he hadn’t sounded like an idiot. Aerella had been right about one thing: they were there for a reason. Beautiful young women never just sought him out. He always had to woo them, even into friendship, and convince them he wasn’t just a dirty old man. Well, not a threatening one. So, who were they? Twins were so rare, they were almost magic, and the only ones he’d ever met were his own children. Until now.
He drifted, thinking about Thom and whatshername, and winced. It must’ve been a very good port, or at least a lot of mediocre port. Either way, it had soothed his worries and ailments for the night, even if it was already punishing him. Something popped in his back, and he sighed. He didn’t remember it hurting, but it felt better now.
Angst tugged at his numb arm, hoping to be gentle. Faeoris rolled over as if done with him, providing an amazing view from the top of her back down to everything curvy. The view brought him to his senses. After freeing his arm, Angst clenched his hand until blood flowed again. He sat up slowly and lolled to one side. Bracing himself with one arm, he drew shaky fingers through his sweaty, graying hair with his other. His gaze lingered on the back of Faeoris’s fine torso. She really was incredible. How did she end up with him naked, again, after being so angry? He winced and avoided thinking on that further. Hopefully Kala didn’t know, or there would be even more explaining to do. She was a constant reminder to behave himself, like he needed that in his life.
The only thing that really made sense right now was bacon. A lot of it. Angst needed food more than air, and the greasy kind that only inns like this could provide. His stomach growled anxiously at the thought before clenching in pain. He covered his mouth and let out a small burp.
“I just want to eat then return to the blanket cocoon,” he mumbled. Seriously, why had he had so much to drink?
Faeoris cooed something far too welcoming, and Chryslaenor sang something that almost sounded judgmental. Angst really wanted to sink back into the cool sheets until the throbbing in his head went away. It wasn’t right, but Faeoris was probably too drunk to care if he accidentally curled around her again. After a long, deep sigh, Angst covered her up, because in a guide to chivalry that someone else must’ve written, it was the proper thing to do.
Angst braved standing, glad to see he was still wearing pants. They were drenched, and he leaned over to sniff, hoping it was sweat. Had he really had that much to drink? He must’ve passed out on the bed then she’d crawled in naked next to him. He smiled. That meant it wasn’t his fault, right? Mostly? He leaned over to pick up a tunic, which was a mistake as his stomach revolted. He slipped it on with moments to spare before rushing out the door.
A
s a boy, Angst had read a lot about heroes. Great knights doing great deeds, dragon slaying and maiden saving. There wasn’t a single story that included peeing. Maybe it wasn’t heroic to pee, or throw up, or break into a cold sweat and the shakes from too much booze, but he couldn’t imagine being the only one. After his brief experience with this heroing nonsense, he truly believed a lot was left out of those stories. He wanted his money back. Nobody sang about friends reluctant to adventure, rowdy nights of drink and naked women the hero wasn’t married to, or stumbling down the stairs. In his mind’s eye, every knight from stories was seven feet tall with bright shining armor and the indelible disposition of perfection. They lived without err, they were always young, and so were their fair maidens. And skinny, don’t forget skinny, and fit as if they didn’t eat food to get all those muscles. He’d bought into a beautiful bill of goods, and thought he did his best to live up to it. But the truth was, this may’ve been the best pee of his life.
After returning to the inn, Angst could smell something greasy cooking, and used the walls of the hallway to guide him. The quiet was broken only by the sizzling sounds of breakfast, which probably meant it was early. His mind worked through the possibilities. This meant he could scarf down a disgusting breakfast, drink a jug of water, and crawl back into bed for a few naked hours. Of course, maybe he should sleep on the floor. He stopped and shook his head. Even this drunk, sleeping on the floor made no sense at all.
The main room was dark, fortunately, and empty, more fortunately. A dim light shone from the kitchen, and Angst crashed in more violently than he’d planned. The skinny, awkward-looking Manst spun to face him, holding up a dark, greasy pan dripping with soap. Not quite a foci, Angst thought, grinning to himself.
“Oh, Mr. Angst,” he said. “You’re still up.”
Still? He was afraid to ask what time it was. He nodded, a little irritated that Manst was being so rude. Couldn’t the funny man stay in focus a little?
“Not breakfast?” Angst asked.
“Um, did you want me to make you something?” Manst asked, his voice wary.
“Bacon?” Angst asked.
The younger man looked toward a plate on a nearby table. “This was wrapped around some of our beef for cooking. It’s cold, but I’m sure it’s fine to eat.”
Angst eyed the small pile of dark, oily strips. He nodded and grabbed a handful. The bacon was cool and greasy, but it smelled amazing. He bit into the mass like a wild animal and nodded gratefully around a cold, tasty mouthful of sloppy meat. Even as he swallowed, his stomach gurgled loudly, which made Manst wince.
“Hank ooo,” Angst mouthed. “Wa-er?”
Manst nodded slowly, handing him a carafe. Angst accepted with his free hand and chugged the water until he was too full. He slowly turned about to stumble out the door.
“Um,” the young man said. “Mr. Angst?”
“Mmm?” he asked around another biteful.
“Ms. Marissa,” he said, his voice strained. “She was looking for you?”
Angst swallowed several times, and it was painful, his mouthful being too large. Suddenly, the bacon was sort of disgusting, and he turned around to return it to the plate. His hand was oily, and Manst handed him a towel.
“Thanks,” he slurred, hoping it made sense. “Is everything okay?”
“She said there was something wrong with the hot springs,” he said, his face tightening like the string on a bow. “That maybe you could magic them...”
“Oh, uh, sure,” Angst said, his stomach clenched. His eyes were heavier than Tarness, and his brain begged for bed. “I’m not sure how much help I can be, a mess something like this, but if she’s waiting, I’ll let her know I can help tomorrow.” It was so frustrating; he was certain none of his words made sense.
Manst seemed apprehensive, maybe even upset. He held a pan up high, almost defensively.
“I’m sorry,” Angst said, not really understanding. “I probabably seema mess right now too. It’s been tough and, really, I’m just trying to help.”
“Right,” Manst said dismissively. Angst could make out wide eyes. “Just go to her.”
Angst didn’t know what that meant, but took it as his leave to leave and stumbled out of the room.
The night air was brisk, refreshing, and needed. He took in several deep spring breaths. Bed would still be a much better idea, but Marissa was waiting, and he wasn’t rude. How could hot springs even break? He sighed. A quick look wouldn’t hurt. He walked an unsure path to the rear of the inn and found a double door to the basement springs wide open. Angst stumbled down the curving stair, following a torchlit path to the bottom, where his knee buckled. He leaned over to rub it when he heard a pleasant ahem. His eyes slowly tracked from his knee and along the stone floor, all the way to the heady pool and beautiful woman in it. His eyes widened, and his mind sobered for but a moment.
Marissa stood in the distant hot spring pool, the water rocking low below her waist. Steam wafted from her naked body. Candles around the room reflected off her pale, glistening skin. Her breasts were far more than a handful, and her tiny waist stretched taut from the cool air that followed him in. Goosebumps formed as she shuddered, making everything jiggle seductively. Marissa’s firm, wet nipples begged for attention. Long, blond, wet hair was pulled back from her round face. Her eyes were dark and seductive, enticing him to join her. His clothes suddenly felt very uncomfortable. She cupped the hot water in both hands, pouring it over her breasts in steamy wonder. Angst took it all in like a starving man, not shying away once from the beautiful vision. He became dizzy, and suddenly remembered to breathe.
“I came to, uh, I’m here to fix the hot spring,” he said thickly, not daring to take a step forward. Not daring with every ounce of his waning strength.
20
Nordruaut
“Dallow’s still in there?” Hector asked, leaning against a tree and rubbing the scar along his chin with a thumb.
“He won’t leave,” Rose said, unsure what to do. “He’s obsessed with opening that door again. It’s as if he thinks Tarness could still be alive.”
“Maybe he is,” Hector said.
“It’s been months,” Rose reasoned. “Out there, in that cold...you two need to accept what’s happened. Tarness is dead.”
“I would’ve believed that a year ago,” Hector said. “But now, after what we’ve seen? Angst’s head was split in two. I watched what look like a sun destroy a large city. I’ve seen dragons. Dragons! We were in a city that was stuck in time. And another city that was underwater. I just don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“I do,” Rose said, her vision blurry with tears. “I believe Tarness is dead. It breaks my heart, but we aren’t going to get out of here unless you two focus on what’s real.” She wanted to smack reason into Hector until he accepted the truth. It was frustrating, and Rose longed for a win in this conversation. “And why aren’t you helping him?”
“Helping him what?” Hector asked, clearly dumbfounded.
Rose rolled her eyes. Maybe smacking wasn't enough, but even if it was possible to knock him senseless, she would just end up healing him, absorbing his injuries into her. It always hurt, so talking would have to do.
“You seem more upset today than normal,” Hector asked. “What gives?”
“I feel like we’re waiting to die,” she admitted, slumping to the ground.
“I’m not going to die here,” Hector said confidently. “I’m going to die on the battlefield, against all odds, doing the impossible. There will be songs, and stories...though, not as good as my stories.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. Hector could always make her laugh. She looked at the old soldier, who was even older than Angst. His military crop of short white and gray hair had grown into a mess over the last several months, almost hanging to his shoulders. He would sometimes pull it back into a top knot that made her scoff, but it kept the mess out of his stern face. His eyes were caring and yet intense, gray and wolf-l
ike under thick lashes. Hector crossed his bare arms, all wiry muscle, and frowned at her. He wore light brown leather breeches and a sleeveless tunic. He held no weapon, but always had one in hand when needed. His magic, other than the weapon thing, was inside. Who knew, maybe that was where the weapons were too? He was strong, fast, and could climb trees like a monkey. He could stand incredibly still, like a cat, and then move so suddenly it would startle everyone nearby. It was said Hector was one of the few men who had been able to beat Captain Guard Tyrell in a duel. He was dangerous, and Rose was glad they were on the same side.
“There won't be any stories if we don't get out of here,” she said sharply.
“Consider it a vacation before we return to battle,” he said with a grin.
“We should be doing more,” she tried arguing.
“Dallow is obsessed enough to find a way out,” he said. “And if he doesn’t, you and I will continue to explore until we do.”
“But it’s been months,” Rose said with a sigh.
“Then why are you sitting there pouting?” Hector asked with a hand out.
Rose cursed his charm and rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hold back her smile. He was right about this being a vacation. This vast city was far from awful; it was actually paradise. They were protected from the freezing Nordruaut winter. They’d discovered an abundance of trees overgrown with fruit, nuts, and crops of vegetables. Every home they’d entered was pristine and new. It was as if the inhabitants had cleaned before leaving. It was so unnerving that she couldn’t sleep in the same home for more than a week, and left them all in the same condition in which she’d found them. Something didn’t feel right. The other two mage cities they’d visited were cursed, so what had happened here?
She took his hand and stood before brushing herself off. He smiled, turning in a direction they hadn’t explored. After two steps, Rose heard a shout from the library behind them, followed by several curse words she recognized. They were some of her favorites. She turned about to see Dallow burst through the library doors, trying to tear a hardbound book in half. He roared like a giant, but the book seemed to be winning the battle. Dallow’s eyes flickered several times, like twinkling stars in a cloudy night, before going into hiding. His light blond hair was matted, sweaty against his forehead. Princess Victoria’s blue sash covered his eyes, but it wasn’t wide enough to cover all of the scars. Rose approached him and gently took the tome from his hands She set it on the ground before giving him a reassuring hug.
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