Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

  “You, me, Jarle, your leader...we can all sit down with some ale and figure this out,” Angst said. “I could really use a drink or seven.”

  “Drinking does sound like a better idea,” Niihlu agreed hesitantly. “But it would be shameful not to kill you, Angst. Nordruaut do not walk away from the challenge.”

  “There is no shame in peace,” Angst said, reaching out with a hand.

  “It will hurt,” Niihlu said, holding up his palm.

  “Less than the alternative,” Angst said with smile, and the two men clasped arms.

  It did hurt, a lot. Ice formed along Angst’s forearm, and it felt like he’d shoved it into a frozen lake. The change that had overcome Niihlu from bonding with the axe wasn’t right.

  “I don’t know that they will come to an agreement,” Niihlu said.

  “We can persuade them. These tend to help,” Angst said, nodding at the sword.

  “What’s that?” Niihlu asked, gripping tighter to Angst’s forearm. “What is that?”

  There was a noisy pop in the distance that made them turn to look. A portal, larger than any Angst had seen, formed about a mile away. Hordes of creatures rushed through the black hole, charging toward the center of the battleground.

  “It...it looks like a portal” Angst said, trying to tug his arm free.

  “Did you do this?” Niihlu said.

  “No,” Angst replied. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

  Niihlu wouldn’t let go, his face twisted with anger as he turned to him. Angst grasped for Chryslaenor, which was just out of reach.

  “You lie!” Niihlu cried. “It’s a trap!”

  50

  “What have these warmongering fools done now?” Jarle asked.

  “It’s a Fulk’han army being led by a giant creature,” Faeoris said as she landed, her bright wings disappearing.

  “I don’t believe it,” Aerella said, her eyes wide. “I don’t think even an Al’eyrn could maintain a portal of that size to move so many. They had to be close.”

  “We receive scout reports every day,” Gose said firmly. “There have been no armies within a hundred miles of this battlefield.”

  “No,” Aerella gasped, reaching back shakily to lean against Maarja. “Magic. The element Magic had to bring them here.”

  “What do we do?” Maarja asked, placing several calming fingers on Aerella’s small shoulder. “That monster is charging on Angst, and the Fulk’han army follows.”

  “We fight,” Faeoris said, drawing her long sword. “We protect Angst!”

  “We can’t take the battlefield first,” Jarle said firmly. “Not during a challenge. We would be in forfeit. Those are the rules.”

  “If we don’t fight, Angst will die and you will lose!” Faeoris said, her cheeks flushed with anger.

  “Skaadi,” Jintorich squeaked respectfully. “Is that your army of Fulk’han?”

  “No, Al’eyrn, it is not,” Jarle answered.

  “Then someone else has taken the battlefield first,” the Meldusian said from Maarja’s shoulder. “They could be working with the eastern Nordruaut.”

  Jarle stared at the army as it rushed forward. Clouds of snow billowed into the air around the Fulk’han, and the charge sounded like distant thunder. With the lightning that sparked around the portal, it looked like a storm had landed on the battlefield.

  “Then we go to war,” Jarle said darkly. He turned to Gose. “Tell our brothers and sisters that we take the field at my command. Ready the archers. I want them to draw the Fulk’han to us and away from Angst.”

  They clasped arms, looking into each other’s eyes. Gose nodded and marched away, barking orders to the Nordruaut.

  “What of Angst?” Jarle asked. “Can you help him?”

  “With Jintorich’s help, I can create a portal that will bring us to him,” Aerella said.

  “I am at your service,” Jintorich said with a bow.

  “I will stop the giant before you get there,” Faeoris said, her wings appearing. She leaped into the air and flew toward the charging Fulk’han.

  “Wait for the second volley of arrows!” Jarle called out after her. “Maarja, with me. We are going to hunt down King Rasaol and end this madness.”

  “I will stay with my friends,” she said firmly. “Jintorich and I battle well together. We are a team.”

  “Fine, keep them safe,” Jarle said. He hefted a pike the size of a small tree and held it aloft. “And let’s end this war.”

  Anger crashed through King Rasaol with every wave of Fulk’han soldiers that charged out of the enormous vertical hole. It looked like a cave mouth filled with dark swirling clouds. Yellow lightning leaped from the edges, striking the ground and kicking up snow. A giant beast with six enormous arms, a blotchy colored gorilla creature the size of ten Nordruaut, led the army.

  “I knew the West couldn’t be trusted!” Rasaol shook a fist in the air. “Jarle would rather fight his Nordruaut brothers and sisters than see the challenge through!”

  “They have no honor,” Dark Vivek said, placing a hand on the king’s shoulder. “But it’s not what you think.”

  “Where did you come from?” Rasaol asked, jerking his shoulder away. “And where have you been?”

  The odd-looking man, who typically appeared ageless, now showed his years. His cheeks were sunken and his eyes drawn, as if the Dark Vivek hadn’t eaten in a lifetime. He lowered his hand shakily and gasped in a short breath.

  “I thought you were going to be here to help,” Rasaol said. “To advise.”

  “Then pay attention while I advise.” The tall man pointed to the dark circle. “Look.”

  The shadowy hole collapsed into itself until nothing remained. Rasaol’s fear of the black hole was soon replaced by fear that a Fulk’han army had taken his battlefield.

  “Your help is too late. I’ve seen what one gray man can do,” Rasaol said, unable to keep the shaky edge from his voice.

  They’d captured a gray man named Guldrich. After almost killing their champion, Niihlu, without a foci, he’d murdered a dozen Nordruaut and escaped. That was one man; this is an army.

  “The Fulk’han aren’t here to fight you,” the Dark Vivek said. “They’re here to help you.”

  “What?” Rasaol snapped. “After killing my people?”

  “Would you rather have them as enemies, or allies?” the old man asked.

  Rasaol nodded reluctantly as the militia of western Nordruaut charged the field.

  “Angst will now have to battle two Al’eyrn,” the Dark Vivek went on. “Your Niihlu, and the Fulk’han champion, Lurp.”

  “Why would they do this thing?” Rasaol asked, feeling helpless. “Why would they be our allies?”

  “They are after knowledge that Angst holds,” the old man said. “That is all you need to know.”

  Rasaol spun around and grasped the old man by the neck with two fingers, lifting his limp body high into the air. This advisor had done little to help his cause, providing the eastern Nordruaut with nothing more than a broken Al’eyrn. He was done being treated like a servant.

  “Tell me!” he roared.

  The Dark Vivek didn’t fight his fearsome grip, his legs didn’t kick, he merely hung on. He raised what would’ve been an eyebrow, had the man had any hair, and stared at the grasping hand in annoyance. Rasaol lowered him slowly and let go. The Dark Vivek angled his head to stretch out his neck.

  “There is a prize they wish to win. It is called Prendere,” he explained calmly. “Angst knows the location of the weapon. It has enough power to win this war, and he will give it to the West.”

  “The prize should be ours,” Rasaol said with a grimace. “But how can we trust these creatures? I would feel better if they were dead. And how do we fight the wielders that travel with Angst?”

  “I’ll take care of his wielders,” the Dark Vivek said. “And when the West is defeated, I will tell you the Fulk’hans’ weakness.”

  “Yes,” Rasaol said, the blo
odlust flowing hot through his veins. “And then the prize will be ours!”

  “Of course,” Dark Vivek said with an indulgent smile. He snapped his fingers and was gone.

  “And once the prize is mine, I will see an end to you,” Rasaol said.

  Enurthen

  The fifth time Dallow attempted his pronunciation of a word that sounded like “cornblower,” Hector lost it. Frayed nerves, excitement to leave, and concern for his friends and what they were facing—all of it exploded out of him in a fit of laughter. Rose chuckled while Dallow faced forward irritably.

  “You’re not helping,” Dallow snapped, swiping at perspiration on his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

  “I’m not sure I could,” Hector said, struggling to control himself. “I would’ve laughed the first time I said it!”

  Dallow’s thin lips curled into a reluctant smile. He walked over and placed a hand on Hector’s shoulder. “I don’t want to leave, either.”

  “What?” Hector asked in disbelief.

  “It’s been sort of...nice,” Dallow continued. “No crazy monsters, no magical weapons, we aren’t being hunted by anyone, all wrapped up in paradise.”

  “But we can’t stay,” Rose said.

  “This city will kill us,” Alloria said shakily.

  “Yes, and I’d rather die out there than sitting around in here,” Hector said, now calm. He looked at Dallow and Rose, wrapped up in their blanket armor. There was an odd feeling of warmth in his chest, one he barely recognized.

  “As a soldier, I don’t often let myself get close to people. Too many deaths, and grieving is a distraction. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I’m often at odds with Angst. His heart is exposed to pretty much everyone, and mine is buried under layers. But for all our arguments, I would have to agree with what Tarness said. I’m glad we went on this adventure, and I did enjoy this time with you, my friends.” He gave them both a brief, firm hug before stepping back and coughing uncomfortably into his fist.

  “Speaking of Tarness, what do we do...you know...” Rose said, looking uncomfortable.

  “We bring his body with,” Dallow said darkly. “Angst should have the opportunity to say goodbye.”

  “Of course,” Hector agreed with a nod.

  “Can we just go?” Alloria asked with an impatient sigh, wrapping herself in a protective hug.

  “One more word, and I’ll bond with the dagger and jam it down your throat!” Rose snapped.

  Alloria swallowed hard, tugging nervously at her honey-brown hair, but said nothing.

  “It’s time for another adventure,” Hector said, placing a hand on Dallow’s shoulder and walking him toward the barrier.

  “It’s time to leave,” Rose said.

  “You can do this,” Hector encouraged, taking several steps back.

  Dallow took in a deep breath, said the words, and the doorway opened just where it had been months ago. Hector expected to be blasted with freezing Nordruaut air, but the cold merely seeped in like a door had been cracked open. It was as if something blocked the wind, but Dallow merely looked satisfied, nodding to himself.

  “Took you long enough,” Tarness said, walking through the doorway. “I was getting bored waiting”

  Hector drew two daggers, Alloria screamed, and Rose leaped forward. She wrapped her arms around as much of the enormous black man as she could. He patted her on the back with one large hand while reaching out with the other. Dallow and Hector stepped forward to join the embrace.

  “I knew you’d make it,” Rose said.

  “What?” Hector said in surprise.

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Do you people ever stop hugging?” Alloria asked.

  “What’s she doing here?” Tarness asked, his head cocked toward the bound girl.

  “We figured there was a better chance that Angst would come looking for us if we had her nearby,” Hector teased.

  “Makes sense,” Tarness said with a smirk. “I’m pretty sure she’s why I’m here.”

  “Heh,” Hector said with a grin. “It is good to see you! How did you survive?”

  “I...I can’t say,” Tarness said, staring at the ground. He briefly looked at them all again and grimaced out a smile. “I can’t say right now. We don’t have time. Angst needs us!”

  “What has he done now?” Rose asked, shaking her head.

  “Niihlu is an Al’eyrn, Angst is going to fight him, and the entire Fulk’han nation just showed up through a portal.”

  “Angst doesn’t mess around,” Rose said in disbelief.

  “A portal, for that many?” Dallow asked. “How—”

  “No,” Alloria said, tugging on Hector’s sleeve. “No. It’s the monster. The element Magic brought the Fulk’han with their monster, Lurp. He’ll kill Angst. We have to go now!”

  “I guess we’re crashing a party,” Tarness said with a grin.

  51

  Nordruaut

  Angst hung by one arm in Niihlu’s icy grasp. How long would it take to freeze completely and break off? Chryslaenor was so infuriatingly close that lightning hopped from the sword to his reaching fingers. A steady thunder boomed around them, growing ever louder. An army approached, but with greater speed than humanly possible.

  “What is that?” Niihlu asked in alarm, whirling Angst about to face them. He pointed at something large in the center, approaching faster than everything else. “What did you bring here?”

  From elements to giant Ivans, Angst had faced a lot of larger-than-life threats. There was something nightmarish about any creature that grew to the size of a small tree. He'd gone toe-to-toe with things that made the Nordruaut seem as small as Angst on his first day of school. The existence of these creatures, any of them, didn’t make sense. Sense would be giants that moved slowly, but this thing, this behemoth galloping toward them on six legs, hurtled forward. It didn’t blur around like Angst could, but it was like a boulder rolling down a mountain.

  “Let me go!” Angst shouted. The song from Chryslaenor blared through his head, a staccato of sound that raced his own heart. “We need to defend ourselves!”

  Niihlu just stared like a cat facing a mirror, in awe of this force of nature that would inevitably overtake them. The Nordruaut had hunted creatures along the Vex’kvette. He’d seen monsters, but had likely never faced elements. Angst had felt the same sense of awe and fright during that first battle with the one-eyed creature who’d abducted Rose.

  Something about that thing running toward them reminded Angst of the fight with the one-eyed monster. It had been a messy win, and after, Hector had told him to stop trying to brawl, to use the sword and magic. Chryslaenor’s song virtually sang “yes,” and Angst listened.

  Angst couldn’t get Niihlu’s attention, and breaking free might break his arm, which was now mostly numb and covered in ice. Niihlu was practically made of ice himself, and would probably let go if he was burned. There was no wood...but Angst didn’t need wood. He’d made fire from nothing when sitting on top of that mountain with Faeoris. How much could he make?

  He knew the spell, but needed fuel to make it more effective and something to help him focus. Earlier, Angst had been filled with so much hope, he’d almost—accidentally—done something peaceful by offering Niihlu a truce. Now that pandemonium had broken out, he was feeling irritated and helpless—not the best source of power. Challenging roars surrounded them from all sides as Nordruaut from the east and west took to the field. Chaos approached fast on many, large legs.

  Bright, colorful lights dove at the large creature, slowing its approach. Faeoris! As always, just what he needed.

  Angst focused on the spell, straining to draw in enough power to summon a lot of fire from nothing. Faeoris flew around the creature, weaving in and out of his swings like a hummingbird. It stopped, rearing up on two...arms? She swooped low, and it batted her away like a gnat. The Berfemmian was thrown high into the air, soaring in a long arc until landing in the snow, unmoving.


  “Faeoris!” Angst shouted.

  Fire exploded before them, throwing Niihlu off his feet and freeing Angst from the Nordruaut’s hold. Angst landed in the snow, and stared in surprise at the ten-foot-wide orb of flame he’d created. It wasn’t what he’d intended to cast. It was more like the fireball he’d thrown at Water on the ocean, but stationary, and hovering. There was no time to figure it out. Angst rushed to his sword and hefted Chryslaenor high.

  Niihlu looked like a melting snowman, taking panicked steps away from the fire as the icy sheath that covered his body steamed. He screamed in pain, stumbling back through the thawing snow. The fire blazed like a desert summer; snow around it pooled into a boiling pond beneath the ball. It had been the distraction Angst needed to free himself, but it was too much. The ball of light was slowly growing, but before he could ask the swords how to stop it, the ground began to shake.

  “Now what?” he said, turning away from his fiery creation.

  “Lurp!” the monster roared as it launched himself high into the air, blocking Angst’s view of the sky.

  “Jintorich, I need you to come down and hold my hand,” Aerella said, beckoning him off Maarja’s shoulder. “I’m going to cast the spell to create a portal, but you’ll need to fuel it.”

  “I can help,” Kala said nervously, practically petting the hair off Scar.

  “I know you can,” Aerella said impatiently. “But I can’t make a portal large enough for Scar at his full size, and it wouldn’t be safe for you to be in the middle of that battle without his protection.”

  “I’ll make my own portal,” Kala said with a pout.

  Aerella hadn’t considered this. The child may have had the ability to duplicate spells, but she didn’t have the strength to back them for long. The stress of it would probably kill her, or she would get stuck trying to go through and die in the process. She shuddered at the thought.

  “Please, Kala,” Aerella said. “The spell could kill you.”