Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

Alloria’s legs were now distorted horrifically, winding about the deathly vortex like paint stirring in a pot of dark oil. The tears streaming down her cheeks were sucked away, and the hungry black mouth of the vortex began dragging him forward too. Bright white flashes sparked behind her, lighting up her legs and torso like lightning strikes. Scar yelped, and the flashes stopped.

  A dark hunger growing in the pit of his stomach longed to watch this through to the end. Maybe this was the madness Aerella had warned him about. He refused to believe anything would drag him into crazy, not even the death of his friend and mentor. He thought of Hector, closed his eyes, and decided that he’d seen enough death. She deserved to die, he wanted her to be punished for what she had done to Victoria, but he refused to give the elements another win. Today, he wouldn’t let them have her; today, he would fight death and his own dark hunger.

  Chryslaenor sparked over his back as he summoned power. The foci let him know that this wasn’t a mere element, or someone pretending to be the Dark Vivek. This was death, and no mortal could fight death. Well, not most.

  Angst anchored his armor to the ground beneath the snow, anchored his bones to the armor, and willed himself to be like the earth, to be a mountain. Death can’t kill mountains. Alloria’s hand was blurry; there wasn’t much left of her. He grasped her forearm with both of his hands and held on for dear life, literally. Alloria screamed, and he winced in pain as a great force drew him forward. What started as a gushing breeze was suddenly a tornado that pulled at his skin and made it hard to breathe. His hold was slipping and, in spite of his efforts, it was a struggle to stand upright.

  “She’s already dead, Angst,” Aerella said. “You can’t bring her back.”

  “Yes...I...can,” Angst growled, squeezing tighter.

  It wasn’t enough; he needed help. Chryslaenor was a frenzy of music, a panicked orchestra that made him wonder if this battle was already over. Dulgirgraut’s deep tone sang clearly in his mind. A calm, low lullaby in the storm. A reminder that Victoria only had precious moments. Despite Angst’s growing panic that chewed away at his gut, Dulgirgraut told him what he needed to know, and he listened.

  Angst slowly, so slowly, anchored Alloria’s bones to his own. He started with her hand and forearm, which mostly remained intact. Angst reached further with his will and reformed her shoulder, drawing the bicep back into shape. It worked, but the portal seemed furious, as though death knew what he had planned. Gently, Angst willed her chest against his and pulled her head forward so their foreheads touched.

  “Hang on,” he grunted to her.

  “I like...this part,” she said between pained whimpers.

  “Then you’ll like this even more,” he said with a smirk.

  He had little time, not only to save Victoria, but to rebuild Alloria before the death vortex closed. Angst willed the bones of her hips to reform, pulling them against his own like a magnet. The bones of her legs solidified as they intertwined with both of his, the blurred colors of her flesh becoming solid once more.

  The swirling mass screamed as it shrank, fighting against his will as he forced the arm holding Jormbrinder to return. He sensed his own victory, and death’s failure, and death was not pleased.

  “Not today!” he yelled. “You’ve taken too much already. This one is mine.”

  With a jerk, he willed her arm whole, dragging it out of the black. With an ear-piercing whine and a loud pop, the vortex closed. Alloria held onto him so tightly that Angst could feel her racing heart through his armor. His arms were wrapped around her bare back, and a quick glance down revealed almost everything—her clothes were in tatters. Her body shivered delightfully against him, and she giggled, and then laughed.

  “A blanket,” he requested.

  “I don’t care. It feels so good to be alive,” she said through chattering teeth then whispered in his ear, “Thank you, my champion.” She bit at it playfully, and his cheeks instantly warmed.

  Maarja wrapped her in a white fur cloak that really didn’t cover much. Angst would’ve appreciated the view under other circumstances, and on a person he didn’t hate. He gently peeled her off and glanced at his friends. They all stared with wide eyes and slack jaws—everyone but Kala.

  “I could do that,” she said sincerely.

  “Of course you could,” he said with a nod, grateful she wasn’t staring at him like some sort of aberration. “We’re good like that. How’s the mutt?”

  “Resting,” she said, petting the lab puppy in her arms.

  That was a relief. Resting was so much better than dead. He wouldn’t have minded some resting too. Aerella approached him slowly, taking cautious steps. She wasn’t quite old, maybe fortyish, but pale and shaky. He needed her, and didn’t have time for her to be exhausted.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “What...” she began. “What are you?”

  “Uh, well,” he said. “Hi, you must be new here. I’m Angst.”

  Despite the apparent fear in her eyes, she couldn’t help the lopsided grin. “No, I mean, you shouldn’t have been able to do that. That was death. You can’t stop death. You can’t trick death...”

  “Yes, you can,” Dallow said smugly. “I tricked death once.”

  “You’re all doomed.” Aerella shook her head in despair. “Angst, an Al’eyrn shouldn’t do these things. I don’t remember hearing about this, ever, or reading about it in all my travels.”

  “I’m amazing,” Angst said, taking her hand. “And I’m in a hurry.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “My spell at the castle was broken. It was Dulgirgraut who told me how to save Alloria, which means it’s time to save Victoria. I need you.”

  “You’re so calm.” Aerella’s eyes were wide, her head rocking back and forth slightly. “After all that’s happened, why are you calm? We thought...I thought you were going to lose it after Hec—”

  “I’m calm because I have to be. That’s what heroes do. I promise I’ll go crazy later,” he said with a reaffirming smile. “Really, if I can make it through Hector’s death, I’ll be okay. It will hurt, a lot, but later when everyone else is safe. A dear friend taught me to mourn for the dead after I’m done fighting for the living. Good advice.”

  “I try,” Faeoris said, sounding stronger after Rose’s healing.

  “Aerella,” Angst said. “I can’t do this without you. Will you help me?”

  “Yes,” Aerella said, nodding.

  “I need a portal to Unsel or Victoria will die,” Angst said.

  Aerella choked on her reply and began hyperventilating.

  “Angst, she doesn’t have that sort of power,” Dallow said. “Nobody does.”

  “I do,” Angst said, grabbing Aerella’s shoulders. “We can do this together.”

  “Okay,” she said bravely.

  “Aerella, won’t this kill you?” Dallow asked, pulling away from Rose.

  “You’ve been to the mage city at the bottom of the ocean. Azaktrha,” Aerella said to Dallow. “You’ve been to the library.

  Dallow nodded, his face drawn.

  “What does that mean?” Angst asked.

  “Dallow can explain later,” she said, her voice suddenly warm. “Angst, you will see me many times in the coming years, but for me, this is our last adventure.”

  “What?” Angst said. “I won’t do this if it’s going to kill you.”

  “It won’t, I promise,” she said. “I know how I’m going to die, and it’s not here, and not today. But we have to hurry, and I just wanted to say thank you. You’ll never realize the amazing life you gave me, all because you broke the curse of Gressmore Towers. I cherish my time with you as I cherish my life. Thank you.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him squarely on the mouth. It was like being kissed by a cousin, or maybe a second cousin, and Angst was taken by surprise. He didn’t want to be rude, of course, so he kissed her back, sort of.

  “Uh, you’re welcome,” he said, touching his lips.
<
br />   “I never get to shock you,” she said triumphantly. “I win!”

  “Miss Heather won’t like that,” Kala said, a judging frown hanging over peering eyes.

  “I did,” Angst said, smirking.

  “Everyone close,” Alloria said. “Uncomfortably close.”

  “Not me,” Tarness said.

  “What?” Angst snapped. “We don’t have time for...”

  Tarness jerked his head toward Maarja.

  “Oh,” Angst said, dumbfounded. “Uh, then, okay. Will you...will you see to Hector?”

  “With every bit of honor he deserves,” Tarness said with a nod. “I’ll find my way home soon enough,”

  Angst took rushed steps forward to give his friend a hug. It was met with brief, crushing gratitude.

  “Don’t wear him out,” he said to Maarja.

  “No promises,” she said with a nod and a wink.

  “I’m staying, too!” Jintorich squeaked.

  “Good! Someone needs to keep these kids alive,” Angst said, kneeling. “And I’m so glad you are alive, brother Al’eyrn.”

  Angst tried his best to give Jintorich a gentle, one-armed hug. Faeoris was less gentle, picking up the little man and hugging him like a lost puppy. After a brief embrace, she pulled him free from her breasts and returned him to the snowy ground.

  “I hate that,” he said with a frown.

  “No you don’t,” Maarja said.

  Maarja and Faeoris stared at each other, nodded once, fist bumped, and said nothing.

  Angst, Alloria, Aerella, Rose, Dallow, Kala, and Scar all grouped up in a huddle. Angst set Chryslaenor in the middle on its tip.

  “No helping,” he said to Kala.

  “Aww,” she whined.

  “Just pay attention and learn,” he said firmly. “That’ll be help enough.”

  It was enough to make her stop complaining, even if her face was still sour. Angst placed two hands on the hilt of Chryslaenor and looked at Aerella. She intertwined her fingers with his. Angst nodded ready, as did Aerella, and he willed. As the power from her spell grew, he turned around for one last look at Tarness. His big friend’s face was scrunched in pain, and he looked at the ground. One hand fidgeted relentlessly, spinning a shiny object wrapped around his finger. Spinning it until Angst could see the ruby ring on Tarness’s hand.

  “No,” Angst whispered.

  58

  Unsel

  There was a sudden drop, the unsure feeling of no ground beneath his feet, and a momentary lurch as his stomach caught up. But portal travel was fast, and the odd sensation was gone almost as quickly as it happened, leaving him disoriented. Had he really seen the ring on Tarness’s finger? He glanced around. They were already in the great hall of Unsel, and his big friend was still in Nordruaut.

  Faeoris, Rose, Dallow, Alloria, Kala, and Scar all stood with him, but Aerella was gone, just as she’d warned.

  “Come on!” he shouted, jogging, not blurring, to Victoria’s room. This level of exhaustion was new. Powering the spell that had gotten them to Unsel made him shake with the weakness of illness. At least the slow jog gave him time to think about Hector, remorse squeezing at his heart. So many had died, so many lost that he cared about, but Hector was different. He was family. Angst couldn’t bear to lose any more family—he deserved for Victoria to live. He’d earned it. Hector had earned it for both of them. With every remaining fiber of his strength, he willed her to stay alive. He willed it. Angst could practically sense her pain, sense her desire to die and be done with it, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  The word forever couldn’t describe how long it took to rush down hallways in armor, breathing heavily, sweating in the late spring closeness of the castle. Had the great hall become longer since he left? Every guard looked at him with wary eyes—would they try to stop them?—then glanced at the giant sword and kept to themselves.

  Chryslaenor hovered over his back, bright sparks of blue lightning flashed over his shoulders, popping and crackling noisily in his ears. The power thrummed like a second heartbeat that drove him, kept him from collapsing, and kept her alive. She would live, he wouldn’t let her die, Chryslaenor wouldn’t let her die! Please, don’t let her die.

  His friends were short steps behind him, most of them gasping in exhaustion. They sounded so fatigued that he could only imagine that their pain and weariness mirrored his own. They were at that point beyond tired, driven only by habit or a crazy man screaming, “Go! We’re almost there.”

  Angst stumped up the stairs and stumbled to a halt before Victoria’s room. The time barrier was gone, and he cursed himself for failing. Victoria’s eyes were open, her hands on the dagger, and she blinked. She blinked!

  He turned to Rose and Alloria, grabbing their hands and leading them forward. Angst shoved past several guards, pulling them to Wilfred and the young healer, who shook from exhaustion.

  “I’m here,” he said to Victoria. “We’re going to make this right.”

  She barely nodded. It was enough.

  “You, take out the blade,” Angst said to Alloria. “Rose, heal her.”

  Rose looked at him like he was insane while Alloria followed his commands with surprising obedience. She pulled at the dagger, making Victoria squeak and gasp in pain. Rose placed her hands on Victoria’s face and screamed, blood pouring from her chest. The dagger wouldn’t move.

  “Angst, I can’t,” Rose said, jerking her hands away. She was pale and shaky. “It’s too much.”

  “The blade won’t come out!” Alloria said.

  “Try again,” he demanded. “You put it in there. You take it out.”

  Alloria struggled with the dagger, being less gentle. Victoria writhed in pain, her chest unwilling to release the foci.

  “I can’t!” Alloria cried.

  Angst shoved Alloria away, knocking her to the floor. She looked like he’d stabbed her through the heart and began sobbing.

  “I thought she was the only one who could remove the blade, Dallow,” Angst snapped.

  “It was a theory, Angst,” Dallow said weakly. “I’m sorry.”

  He turned to Rose.

  “I don’t know what to do, Angst,” she said. “If I try to heal her, I’ll die. Would you choose her over me?”

  Angst’s gaze danced between Rose and Victoria. Rose would do it if he asked. He loved them both so much, but in such different ways. Chryslaenor’s song screamed that he couldn’t hold onto Victoria much longer. He roared in frustration, making everyone in the room jump. Why did it have to be so hard? Maybe he could help heal. Both foci told him no, it wouldn’t be enough. Healing wasn’t his talent. Rose could heal, but it would kill her. If she could just...if she could...

  “Rose,” Angst said. “You need to bond with Jormbrinder.”

  “What?” she said, her entire body tensing.

  “You almost bonded with Chryslaenor,” he explained. “Can’t you bond with Jormbrinder? It would give you enough power to remove the blade and heal her.”

  “I can’t,” she said, her eyes wide.

  “Do you hear the song of the foci?” Angst asked, nodding at her wide-eyed reaction. “I think you do, and I believe that you can bond.”

  “I...” Rose said. She crossed her arms. “No. It changed you. I don’t want to change like that.”

  “This is for Unsel,” he said.

  “I felking hate Unsel!” she shouted, her lip quivering.

  “This is for me,” Angst said.

  “I felking hate you!” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “If you’ve ever loved me, Rose,” he said, “you will do this.”

  A stream of curses spewed from her mouth, making the guards flinch, Wilfred blush, and Kala cover her ears. Rose leaned over to Alloria, grabbing the handle of Jormbrinder. “Give me that, bitch!” she said, jerking it from her hand.

  Alloria reached for the blade, but Angst smacked her hand away. He spun Rose around to face Victoria.

  “If you need to pas
s the wound to me,” he said. “Don’t hesitate.”

  “I won’t,” she growled. “I hate you.”

  “I hate you too,” he said, his heart swelling with gratitude.

  Rose placed her hand on the other half of Jormbrinder still in Victoria, and bonded with the foci. Angst knew she bonded. Not just because her hair lifted as if a breeze had entered the room, not just because the room itself seemed too bright, not just from her whimpers as she gave a part of herself to the foci. It was deeper. Maybe it was the songs of Chryslaenor and Dulgirgraut, harmonizing reverently. Maybe it was a deeper sense of everything that his foci gave him when he paid attention. Or maybe it was the fact that he was so close to Rose he could see the change happen, feel it.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes rolled back.

  What felt like an eternity passed within breaths, and Rose withdrew the dagger slowly from Victoria’s chest. A forest green fire coated her forearms, pouring into Tori. The princess shook her head back and forth, her body tensing. Rose muttered words Angst didn’t know or even recognize. Finally. Finally, it stopped. Rose and Victoria gasped.

  Tears streamed down Angst’s cheeks as he dropped in front of Tori. He placed her face upon his chest, and she collapsed into him, wrapping her arms around him. It was done. He was done. His princess lived. Rose was safe. Everyone was okay. From behind him, he could hear Kala’s mom, Nikkola, sobbing. After many sorrys from Kala, there may have been a swat and Kala began sobbing too. Wilfred was there, his hand resting on Duke Ranson’s shoulder as the man wept into his hands.

  “Rose, how are you?” Angst asked.

  “I’m sorry, Angst,” she said, her voice distant.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, looking over Victoria’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry I ever questioned this,” she said with a wry smile. Rose stood and walked to Dallow.

  “Are you all right?” Dallow asked nervously. “You sound...different.”

  “I'm better. I was able to heal the princess,” she said, placing hands on his cheeks. “Now it’s your turn.”

  Rose pressed her lips against Dallow’s. Green light filled the room once again, and Angst felt warmth in his heart. If she could heal oldest friend, if Dallow could see again, it would be more than he could’ve hoped.