Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

  “Go on...” Rose urged. “Maybe confession will help you feel less guilty.”

  “Well,” Dallow said, reeling on the corner of the bed. “I’d been reading about other mage cities in Azaktrha, a different mage city that was underwater. We were supposed to focus on Unsel when going through the portal, but I may’ve been thinking of this city. We aren't sure what it's called. It’s the only explanation I can come up with for ending up here.”

  “In short,” Rose said with a scowl, “it’s Dallow’s fault.”

  “How long are you going to be mad at me?” Dallow asked.

  “Until we’re back in Unsel,” Rose said, kissing him on the cheek. “Not to mention, you’re cute when you look guilty.”

  “Victoria flew off with Angst?” Alloria asked, her voice shaking with worry. “When did this happen?”

  “Best guess?” Hector asked. “Three months ago.”

  The young woman cried. Not the fake cries of a spoiled princess, but the racking sobs of someone who’d been to a dark place and was now back. She held herself as if waves and waves of pain were crashing on her shores. Rose sat on the bed and placed a hand on the young woman’s knee. The princess looked a mess. Against her better judgment, Rose tried to heal her, drawing some of Alloria’s wounds into herself. There was a loud crack, and searing pain coursed through her hand. Rose leaped from the bed, holding her arm, which was now numb, as if she’d slept on it wrong.

  “Rose?” Dallow asked, standing and reaching out. “Are you okay?”

  “I tried to heal her,” Rose said through gritted teeth. “I can’t feel my arm.”

  The teenager looked up at Rose with large, sad, eyes. She tried covering herself with her arms awkwardly, as if hiding how terrible she looked, the weapon hanging limply from her hand.

  “I’m sorry,” Alloria said. “I didn’t know what you were doing. I would’ve stopped you.”

  “What was that?” Rose snapped. She wiggled her sore fingers as feeling slowly returned to her hand. “Why can’t I heal you?”

  “Because I’m already dead. I was killed by the Dark Vivek,” Alloria said through her sobs. “And he sent me here to kill all of you.”

  31

  Gressmore Ruins

  “Are they going to be okay?” Kala asked, holding hands with her new best friend.

  “They’ll be a little bruised, but better for it,” Aerella said calmly. “They really needed to get this out of their systems.”

  “Why are they fighting?” the young girl asked.

  “They’re flirting,” Aerella said cautiously.

  “Does flirting always have to hurt?”

  “Sometimes,” she said. “They’re...complicated.”

  “If you become old again,” Kala said, “can I call you grandma?”

  “No,” Aerella said firmly.

  The blow should’ve crushed his ribcage, but his armor and a hastily created air shield had mostly protected him. Everything was great, except for not being able to breathe and the quickly approaching snowbank. Mere inches from impact, she grasped his ankles. The sudden jerking stop made his back pop and crack all the way to his neck before she threw him up into the air again.

  They’d fought once before. He’d thought she was relieving sexual tension after being torn from her normal mating cycle, but that was months ago. This couldn’t be about mating. Something had been bothering her, he’d felt it, but fighting? Here? Now? He had to end this quickly without hurting Faeoris, or dying.

  Just as he reached the apex of her throw, he placed an air shield platform beneath him to rest on. His stomach caught up several seconds later as he hovered, and waited. He was still winded from her first blow, and there was a formidable dent in his chestpiece the size of a small fist. He looked around until he finally spotted bright wings in the distance, approaching fast.

  At the last second, he willed the shield to drop him down far enough that she passed overhead. He grabbed onto her ankle, thinking he could stop her. Or not thinking. Big mistake. He dangled from her foot as she dove toward the mountain. Faeoris leveled out to swoop in and out of branches. They were the small kind at the top of trees, the ones that poked and scratched instead of skewered. His mind raced. He could stop her. He could throw a shield in front of her, but he didn’t want to hurt her...much.

  They approached a cliff, and he sighed. This would have to be it. She flew along the face of an outcrop, kicking her feet to shake him free, and close enough that he could anchor himself to the mountain. Like a hinge, she smashed into the stone, landing on her face and shoulder. Faeoris skidded alongside the cliff face to a stop. Before she got up to attack again, Angst lunged forward, tackling her. They rolled and rolled until he was on top.

  “Let me up!” Faeoris roared, unable to move her arms or legs. Angst had anchored her bones to the ground and was straddling her stomach. “Get off me!”

  “What, can’t you breathe either?” he asked, struggling to draw in air. Maybe humor would shake her fury. “I know I’m fat, but a strong, muscly Berfemmian like you should breathe fine. Your lungs look nice to me.”

  Faeoris wasn’t laughing, even a little. Tears of frustration streamed through dirt and blood on her cheeks. This didn't feel at all like flirting, or playing. She was genuinely upset. Wait, blood? He immediately jumped off her.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said. “Are you—”

  She swatted him, and Angst flew back fast. Berfemmian. Temper. Got it. He bounced off something that looked like a mountaintop, his shoulder wrenching painfully as the bounce hadn’t slowed his flight. As if she’d been skipping stones in a pond, he bounced again, his leg twisting the wrong way with a wincing crunch. That one hurt. He continued flying back until he landed on something soft enough, at least, that he was sure it wouldn’t be the worst way to die. Faeoris’s arms were wrapped around his chest, the same one that was struggling to breathe. She brought him to a snowy mountaintop and set him down. Everything throbbed, a severe precursor to pain. Tomorrow was going to suck. His companions only seemed to remember he was old when they thought it was funny.

  “Goodbye, Angst!” she shouted as she rose into the air.

  “Where are you going?” Angst coughed.

  “Home!” she shouted, looking around helplessly.

  “Do you know where home is from here?” Angst asked.

  He lay in the cold snow for a very long time before she landed beside him. He should’ve had the right words. This probably should’ve been one of those chivalric moments mentioned in that crappy heroing guide he’d never received. Sitting up made him gasp for breath, and everything popped or stretched wrong and then popped again. The only reason he wasn’t screaming had to be the cold, numbing, delicious snow. Why couldn’t he suddenly become younger like Aerella? He’d been able to deal with pain when he was younger.

  Angst stood on one leg to face Faeoris. She turned away, holding herself.

  “What’s this about?” Angst asked, holding back a potentially embarrassing cough. “You startled me when you attacked. I think I peed a little.”

  She chuckled, finally.

  “That’s not my favorite way to pee,” he continued. “Getting knocked into the air by a pretty woman. But now we know it works, in case of peeing emergencies.”

  “Don’t make me laugh when I’m angry at you,” she muttered, wiping her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She spun on a heel, her fist reeled back.

  “What?” Angst said, holding up his good arm defensively. The other arm was supposed to defend him too, but instead chose to hung limply by his side. “I’m...not...sorry?”

  “You just don’t get it! You say sorry, and you don’t even know what for.”

  “I’ve been married a long time,” Angst said. “I’m well trained.”

  “That doesn’t fix anything!” she screamed.

  “Then tell me,” he said. “I care, Faeoris, but I won’t understand until you tell me. I’m a man.”r />
  She covered her face with both hands. “I was stuck in Unsel for three months. I waited for you, and you never once said thank you!” she said behind her hands. “When you found out I didn’t know how to get home, you didn’t once offer to help. Not once!”

  “Oh,” he said, carefully lowering his injured leg for balance.

  “I was trapped—with your wife, who hates what I wear, and Maarja, who hates me for being Berfemmian. I had to beat her insults into submission, which made everyone else afraid of me,” Faeoris shouted. “I agreed to travel with you because you’re my friend, only to learn from a child...a child...that we aren’t supposed to sleep naked together.”

  “I...” he began, raising a finger in his defense.

  “No one in Unsel would mate with me. No one! They look at me like I’m a freak,” she cried. “And then, nobody made me feel more like a freak than you did.”

  “What?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “You would kiss that fish. That human-fish-mermaid. You would kiss her, but not me, Angst,” she said. “You have no idea what I’m going through. Our time to mate came and never left. It’s still here!” She beat on her chest. “I don’t want children, but I’m driven to make them. It’s maddening. You’re the only one I care about, the only person I love, and you turned me away. It’s the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever experienced. Tell me why, Angst. Am I a freak? Am I really so awful?”

  Angst could only wish that the cold crawling up his legs would reach his heart, which ached for his friend. She didn’t understand, and he’d done a terrible job of explaining. It was just that, Faeoris was his friend. Despite her insane beauty, he wasn’t looking for a new wife. He’d chosen her to be his friend. It had to be so different from how she lived, where women were friends and lovers, and men were for mating. Distracted by everything and more, he’d really neglected her, and she deserved better. But first, she had to know.

  “Kiss me,” he said.

  “No,” she snapped.

  “Please,” Angst said, as sincerely as he could. He genuinely wanted her to try. “I love you too, Faeoris.”

  Her head jerked around to make eye contact, and she sucked in her lips.

  “I’m serious, I really do love you,” he said, reaching out. “Please kiss me.”

  She took several steps, closing in. He could feel her heat, smell her skin. Even after beating the crap out of him, she smelled great. Faeoris wrapped her arms around his neck and moved closer. Her eyes closed lustily, their noses bumped, and she stopped. Seconds passed, and her eyes opened once again.

  “I...I don’t get it,” she said. “I want to mate so badly, and you’re a man, but I can’t with you. I can’t even kiss you.”

  “Now you understand,” he said, only hating this a little. “You may be one of the few who does.”

  “What do you mean?” Her arms were still around him, but she pulled back.

  “You can’t kiss me because we’re friends,” he said, holding up a hand and crossing his fingers. “We’re like family. I do love you, totally and completely. But we’re friends. We don’t kiss, or anything else. I’m sorry if you thought...if I led you to believe... Faeoris, I’d do anything for you.”

  Her hug made more things pop, and he was awarded with many wet kisses on his cheeks. Angst wanted to hug her back, but was locked into a Berfemmian straightjacket, which was pretty nice. When she finally let him go, he took several moments to catch his breath.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Now that I realize some of what I’ve done, I’m really sorry. You deserve so much better, and so much more from me.”

  Faeoris sniffled, but said nothing and stood very still. She didn’t even shiver. He did, almost uncontrollably, and it felt like they may be here awhile. He sought help from Chryslaenor, who hummed from a distance, giving him just enough of a spell. Angst created a fire that burned air instead of wood. That spell didn’t make sense to him, but he would just have to ask someone smarter when this was done. Snow quickly melted onto rough shale, and he slowly regained feeling in his legs.

  “My closest friends have always been women,” Angst said, as he gave up standing and sat down awkwardly in his armor. “Always. It’s been that way my entire life. I’ve had some friends who are guys, but not many. Most of the women I’m close to are beautiful, and needy. Sometimes it works, like with my friend Rose. She’s kept me on the straight and narrow, especially after wielding Chryslaenor. There were never any misunderstandings with our friendship. I thought it was the same with Victoria. I was always drawn to her, too much, but we were friends. I never thought we crossed the line, but we jumped on it a lot. When I realized she’d fallen in love with me, I felt like I’d done something wrong.”

  “What about Moyra?” Faeoris asked, sitting beside him.

  “I don’t know,” he said honestly. Angst sighed deeply, and his heart chilled as he swallowed a deep lump of sorrow. “Maybe we didn’t have time to learn to be friends. Maybe I finally crossed a line I shouldn’t have. Maybe I’m just a terrible person.” He covered his face.

  “She was pretty, your Moyra,” Faeoris said. “I would’ve kissed her.”

  Angst looked up and smiled. Her reply wasn’t forgiveness, or pity, or even understanding. It was acceptance, which he needed more than anything. “That would have been great.”

  She smiled in a way that made her seem older, and wiser. “Why did you let me sleep naked with you, if it would make Heather mad?”

  “She’s always mad,” he said in frustration, and quickly saw that wasn’t the right answer. “You’re young, and beautiful. Did I mention that you’re beautiful?”

  “I’m not sure I remember you saying that,” she teased.

  “You are,” Angst said, his cheeks very warm. “The attention is nice. But it was selfish. I didn’t mean to hurt you, just to make myself feel good.”

  “I’m older than you,” she said.

  “You look younger,” he replied. “It still counts.”

  They both stared into the fire that burned from nothing. As the snow continued to melt, so did the numbness that masked his pain. His breathing became shallow, and spots began to appear before his eyes. She’d really worked him over, but he would do anything not to show it.

  “Would you save me?” she finally asked.

  “What?” Angst asked.

  “Like your princess,” Faeoris explained. “Would you save me like you’re trying to save her?”

  “I’d fight through time to save you,” he snapped. “I’m not going to lose anyone else I love.”

  She launched at him for another bone-crushing hug. It hurt in the best way possible.

  Faeoris pulled away, frowning at him. “Yeah, you’re right, no kissing,” she said firmly.

  “Of course not.” He sighed then grinned mischievously. “What about the sleeping naked together thing?”

  “Only when I’m drunk!” She laughed.

  “That’s fair,” he said.

  “And I’ll try not to make you mate with me.”

  “What?” His heart skipped a beat, his question lost to her laughter.

  32

  Angst and Faeoris landed gently at Gressmore Ruins, and he wanted to thank her. But the first step away made him wince, and the second made him wince more. The snowy mountaintop no longer numbed the injuries from Faeoris’s thrashing. He struggled to breathe and hunched over with his hands on his knees; his ribs didn’t feel right. Faeoris helped him remove his plate and chainmail chest piece, and then the padding beneath to reveal his pale torso covered with dark purple blotches.

  “Oh no,” Faeoris said, shocked at the sight.

  “That looks painful,” young Aerella said with a wince.

  “That was a lot of flirting,” Kala said, swallowing hard as she stared at his wounds. “Miss Heather’s going to be very upset.”

  “Not with this type of flirting, she isn’t.” He groaned. His whole body was throbbing in pain, and he dropped to his kn
ees.

  “I’m sorry, Angst,” Faeoris said. “I guess I was a little upset.”

  “More than a little,” he wheezed, feeling dizzy. “Aerella, can you heal this?” He waved at his entire body.

  “I don’t know if I remember all the spells. I’m still too young,” she said apologetically. She squeezed her eyes shut, her nose scrunching. “I’ll concentrate.”

  “I think I can mend the bones.” Angst awkwardly threw out his cloak and lay in a sprawl, stretching out his arms and legs. He tried to focus, but just couldn’t catch his breath. “Then we can look for the memndus stones.”

  “I was a physician, Angst,” Jintorich said, bounding next to him. “I’ll fix you up, and then see to your armor. I’ll need a hot fire.”

  “On it,” Maarja said, rushing away, the ground shaking less with every step.

  “A physician, and a blacksmith?” Faeoris asked. “And a midwife?”

  “I am one,” Jintorich said sincerely. “One of many.”

  “Thank you,” Angst said. His little friend had said that several times, but before he could ask what it meant, Faeoris was hovering over him in the best way possible, and he was too tired to even try making eye contact.

  “I’ll stay right here, Angst.” She sounded worried. “I’ll take care of you.”

  “That sounds like a great idea,” he said, before everything faded away.

  Angst woke to a crackling fire, laughter, and the distinctive horting of gamlin. He opened his eyes and took in deep, full breaths with working lungs. It was night! How long had he been out? As delicately as one would pet a newborn pup, he felt along his ribs. They weren’t even sore to the touch. Concentrating, he sought broken bones with his mind, but everything seemed connected and whole, though old. He’d never healed so quickly before... Would it be possible to rebuild the squeakier parts of his knee, or even reinforce his tired back? Glorious laughter interrupted his thoughts, and Angst rolled to one side.

  A slightly older Aerella, a sweaty Kala, and a tail-wagging Scar chased a gamlin who dove in and out of the ground like fish in water. The giggling didn’t stop as a human-like face popped out of the dirt, smiled, and returned to hiding. Little puppy hackles rose from Scar’s neck and back, but his tail wagged vehemently. Jintorich lay nearby on a bedroll, snoring loudly, hair from his eartops occasionally twitching. Maarja and Faeoris sat beside each other, staring at the fire, sharing a jug of something that seemed large for the Berfemmian but small for the Nordruaut. Maarja laughed at something Faeoris described with her hands, before deftly placing one on the Nodruaut’s knee.