Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

  His family. Heather, Thom, and Eila. Their faces flashed in his mind, breaking through the red fury of his anger.

  “We need Ivan alive,” she said, her voice calming. “To save Scar, and Kala, and Faeoris.”

  She was right; he had to save his friends. That was why they were doing this: to save them all. Deep breaths calmed his thundering heart. The red fury subsided, and reality slowly returned. So did feeling. His cheek, his entire jaw was sore from Ivan’s attack. It would’ve been humiliating if he’d cared. He didn’t. Nothing was more important than saving his wife and kids, than saving everyone. His wasn’t a life of pride and acceptance. Getting beaten was just another day. Just another misstep toward winning the battle.

  Angst let go, and Ivan gasped for breath. The knight wiggled free from his dirt prison and dusted off his leg. Surprisingly, it only took a few breaths for the dead knight to regain his sneer. He towered over Angst, looking down his prodigious nose as if he’d stepped in dung. Ivan’s judgmental gaze studied Angst with disgust. It was definitely the man he knew. But how?

  “Why are you alive?” Angst snapped.

  Ivan reached under his silver breastplate and removed a large, red ruby ring. It dangled from a chain around his neck. Angst wanted to smack that sneer across the tent city.

  “It seems I can’t be killed, now,” Ivan said.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Alloria said with a frown and shudder.

  Angst rested a hand on her shoulder. She would know death better than most. Magic had offered Alloria a similar ruby ring, saving her as Cliffview collapsed into the ocean. She’d done the element’s bidding as Queen of Unsel. When Magic was done with Alloria, he’d destroyed the ring. Death had appeared as a dark vortex to claim her, sucking the young woman in one appendage at a time. Angst had refused to let that happen and willed her whole, pulling her together piece by piece.

  “Magic will keep me alive,” Ivan said, swallowing hard.

  “Says the knight who hates wielders,” Angst said. “Weren’t you a tree?”

  “I’m no longer a part of that carcass you created,” Ivan said, glaring at him. “And won’t return to that place.”

  Angst had once slapped Ivan senseless, and the knight had run away. It wasn’t Angst’s proudest moment, the exact opposite of being heroic, but Ivan was a bully, and he’d do it again. Despite hating the knight, his friends had spent half a day looking for Ivan without success, not realizing he’d stumbled into the Vex’kvette. That orange goo affected all non-magical creatures differently, either killing them or changing them. Ivan became a giant purple tentacle monster the size of Unsel’s castle. When Angst killed him, Ivan had looked more like an enormous tree than a man.

  “Fine,” Angst said. “Give us a map to Prendere, and we can part ways.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Ivan said. “I need to guide you. It’s the only way.”

  “Of course it is,” Angst said, gritting his teeth. “I’ll find it without you.”

  “Go ahead,” Ivan said. “And five years from now, I’ll make you beg me for directions.”

  “Or,” Angst said, leaning forward and clenching his fists, “I could just turn you inside out again and again until you tell me.”

  “No, wait,” Alloria said, standing between them and placing a hand on Angst’s chest. “We need him.”

  “We need Magic,” Angst said, doing his best to stare down the knight. The fact that his face was partly numb from being slapped didn’t help. “Alloria, you said you’d bring me to Magic.”

  “He didn’t want to come and sent me instead. I have little choice because he insisted I help you,” Ivan said, looking down his long nose again. “For some reason, he thought you might try to kill him.”

  “Oh, there is no try,” Angst said, lightning sparking from his fists. “I’ll take Magic out like I did the other four elements. I’m happy to do you in again too. I’m surprised you came back for seconds.”

  Ivan shoved Alloria aside and leaned in, nose to nose with Angst.

  “Angst,” Alloria said, tugging at the sleeve of his tunic. “Please.”

  “Yes,” Ivan taunted. “Listen to your young tramp.”

  Alloria reared around and punched Ivan in the face with such force that he stepped back. Angst was as shocked as the knight when she did it again. Blood sprayed from his mouth, and he sat hard on his rear.

  “Wow,” Angst said.

  “I’ll destroy you,” Ivan shouted, struggling to stand in his full suit of armor.

  Angst held Alloria’s shoulders and gently drew her back.

  “You deserve that and more,” she screamed. The young woman was shaking, and her eyes were lost to a wildness that didn’t feel completely sane. “I hate you!” Fury seethed from her as she gritted her teeth and gasped in short, feral breaths. She looked ready to claw Ivan’s eyes out, tear out his throat with her teeth, or explode. “Hate!”

  “Alloria?” Angst asked, wondering if this is how he’d reacted only moments ago.

  She stopped, blinked several times in surprise, then turned to him with a loving expression. “Sorry, baby.”

  Angst sighed, shaking his head. She was probably more broken than he was.

  Ivan burst out laughing. “I’m glad she’s on your side,” the knight said.

  “Me too,” Angst said in a small voice. It was true. He would’ve hated to be on the receiving end of that much crazy. “Fine, we go together.”

  “Let’s leave tomorrow,” she said. “After we rest.”

  “How can we rest with him lurking nearby?” Angst asked.

  “Put your swords in front of the tent,” Alloria said. “We’ll be safe. You need your strength.”

  The look of worry on her face was justified. He was tired to the bone, and everything from cheek to back throbbed with pain. Or was that age? It would’ve been wise to leave The Fette tonight in case Marisha came back, but Alloria’s eyes were a little frightened, or maybe desperate. He nodded, reluctantly, and she sighed. Her shoulders dropped, and she leaned into him.

  “Fine,” Ivan said, pushing himself up to standing. He opened his mouth and rubbed his jaw, peering at Alloria with calculating eyes. “Tomorrow then. I look forward to our…adventure.”

  Angst stared on in disbelief as the knight he killed wandered past the fire and into the distant woods. The man hadn’t only died, his body had been completely destroyed. How could he possibly be here? The only way he could be alive was if Angst had gone to the past and reset everything, but that hadn’t happened yet. It was confusing to his tired brain, and he decided that it was future Angst’s problem.

  “Bring me to bed, Champion,” Alloria said, her voice a little too sultry.

  “Sure,” Angst said. “Lead the way.”

  Despite exhaustion and confusion, he needed his swords. Angst slowly made his way back to the entrance of The Fette while Alloria readied herself for sleep. She’d said something about washing up, but he’d been more than distracted. The cool, night air smelled fresh, and the quiet was surreal compared to the attack. He meandered through the labyrinth of teenage sex-tents, letting his mind wander. It was the first time he’d been alone in recent memory, and he was grateful for the chance to think.

  The beautiful twins had once again appeared and disappeared. They acted like friends, but he found them hard to read and could only hope their agenda was in line with his own. The twins always seemed too ready for something to happen, on the edge of their seat, even when sitting on the edge of his knees. They sought a foci, yet another foci to deal with, but were vague about why. And then there was that little thing about them being from the future. They were going back in time, apparently to right a wrong like he wanted to. That made his head swirl with whens and what-ifs that were better understood by the Dallows of the world.

  And now he had to deal with Ivan. The haughty, self-important dead man he’d hated more than anyone was suddenly alive. How was that possible? Worse than that, Angst now had to team up wit
h the knight to save his family. It made his stomach churn.

  All of this, and now Marisha had somehow been transformed into something dark and smelly. One of the most dangerous, beautiful creatures on Ehrde wanted him dead. Marisha had accused him of killing her essent, Faeoris. If she knew the truth, she’d be fighting by his side, preferably downwind.

  This wasn’t the hero story he’d planned all his life. His goal of becoming a knight had become a complicated mess of living elements, women from the future, too many loved ones lost, and an ache in every joint. What else had happened during his months of healing, and mourning? It didn’t matter; he was tired of everyone’s crap. All he wanted was to drop Alloria off on a secluded island where she was safe and harmless, get knighted, and retire drunk and happy with his wife and kids. Everyone else could go felk themselves.

  The swords were waiting patiently, and he set them in place to hover over his back. It would’ve been better if they sang, but their presence was still comforting as he struggled to find his way back to Alloria. He grimaced in frustration at being lost, and barely stopped before plowing through a tent. With a calming breath, Angst reached out and summoned a globe of light. It was much brighter than he’d intended, but at least now he knew where—

  “Hey,” a young man called out from the tent he’d almost stomped on.

  “Turn it off,” a woman shouted from another.

  Angst extinguished the spell immediately. The tent city was less empty than he’d expected. The silence was soon replaced by the moans of passionate, humping teens. Had they actually run in fear from the battle, or run for covers? The sounds distracted him from his frustration, and he couldn’t help but smile at the youth. Sex was far, far more important than pending doom, right?

  He rushed as carefully as he could, eventually finding the tent. It seemed even smaller than before as he set the swords by the entrance. He peeled off the remains of his tunic and tried using it to wipe away a thick layer of salty grime. It was moist enough from sweat that he’d undoubtedly just rubbed it in. He had taken the time to heal his wounds, but should've taken a bath too. Even though he felt over-warm, he kept the leggings on, hoping they’d be a layer of protective humility in the dark.

  “Hey,” he whispered, trying not to bump her as he crawled into the tent. He awkwardly found his spot and wiggled under the blankets.

  “Hey,” she said huskily, in a sleepy voice.

  Sleepy was good. He was too tired to deal with more ‘poppa’ issues.

  She rolled over to snuggle next to him and placed a hand on his chest. He gasped as her large breasts squished against his side. They were covered in something silky, and she smelled like wildflowers. He didn’t and was very aware of his personal stench of old-man-sweat, alcohol, and fear. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on grass, and rocks, and dead cats. It wasn’t enough as she snuggled closer.

  “Thanks for having my back,” he said, clearing his throat several times. “You stopped Ivan long enough for me to defend myself.”

  “Anything for my champion,” she said. Her hand slid down to his stomach.

  He didn’t notice. Really, he didn’t notice. Why had he eaten so much cake throughout his life? Would it be too obvious to suck in his gut right now? Definitely. Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t do anything foolish. Despite her hunger and perfect body, and that smell that wafted into his brain, she was far too young. When had he first started enjoying sex? Sixteen? Seventeen? It didn’t matter; this was different.

  “We make a good team,” he said, his heart skipping a beat. Teammates weren’t lovers, and he hoped she was just stretching her fingers. “After a good night’s sleep, we’ll be ready to do more team…stuff.”

  Alloria shifted and rolled so smoothly that he could do nothing more than gasp before she was on top. She held his face as she leaned forward, placing her lips against his. They were full, and soft, and sweet. This was so much better than getting beaten by Marisha and Ivan.

  Her want, her need, her softness was incredible. For a moment, he let her. He couldn’t help it. She kissed, he kissed, their tongues danced, and a fire burned inside him. That fire swelled in him like everyone else who remained at The Fette. He wanted this, he deserved it, and there was nothing to stop him.

  Tori had slept naked next to him, but it had seemed nothing more than an inappropriate tease. Faeoris had crawled into their tent and taken off her clothes because she didn’t enjoy wearing them. Well, and it was mating season for her. They were both friends, or something. Sex seemed an impossibility with either of them. Those flirtations had threatened his wall, kicking and striking with every bit of heat, all uncomfortably deflected by marriage. That one thing had kept him from doing what he really wanted, and that one thing was now gone.

  Now, hovering over him was youth in perfection. Every fantasy he’d ever had was here and now. Alloria’s hips ground against him, and he reacted like a teenager ready to go, writhing with her every gasping breath as she suckled his neck. Her hunger was raw and full of need. It had been a very long time since he’d been wanted that way, and he longed for the outcome. She would ride him like a pony until all that desperation, all that lust and desire, was completely extinguished.

  It would take nothing, absolutely nothing, to give in to that hunger. His family was gone so there were no more walls. There was nothing left to lose, but somehow, a part of him knew he would lose everything. Was he becoming numb to the sight and feel of beautiful women? Nope, not even a little. Maybe he was just more prepared for it now. A little. This teen in all her beauty with her soft body and large breasts and firm nipples begging for attention was grasping for something that wasn’t hers. And despite everything his body wanted, his mind reeled.

  He clasped both her wrists in frustration and rolled over, making her squeal in fear or pain. With a gasp, her mouth met his again, even more desperate than before. She didn’t wince away from his roughness; she welcomed it. Alloria would do anything for him. Anything.

  The tent city was distracted, and they were just another couple. Nobody would know, nobody would care. It was infuriating because there was only one thing he really wanted. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He had no choice but to follow his instincts.

  18

  The decision to combine forces with Eastern Nordruaut was unanimous. Paranoid Bryymel was the only one to complain, but even his reservations were minimal, and nobody listened anyway. Now convinced that Angst had killed Jarle, the East and West happily combined forces to hunt for him. There’s nothing like having a common enemy to rally behind, and Angst’s transgressions were bad enough to ultimately end their civil war.

  Guilt rolled over Tarness like an avalanche that never quite seemed to stop. He’d lied to Maarja about training with Jintorich. He’d lied to everyone about searching for Jarle’s body. And now, he’d lied to the Nordruaut about Angst killing Jarle.

  When Tarness accepted the ring, he hadn’t expected that it would make him lie. All he wanted was to get to Angst and help his friend through this new disaster. Not that he felt like much of a helper. Or even a friend. So far, his help had inspired the entire Nordruaut nation to hunt him down. He now spent a lot of time staring at his feet, trying to figure out how to pull himself free from that avalanche.

  They were fast approaching the Rohjek border. The Nordruaut had run for four days, stopping six times for food and three times to sleep. At this point, Tarness needed a solid eight, or maybe twenty, hours of sleep. The Nordruaut woke refreshed after four. Despite riding swifen, Tarness and Jintorich spent more time exchanging yawns than talking, even though yawning meant taking in gasps of sweaty Bokeen stench. The enormous, pungent mounts must’ve been made of wet hay. Their scent coated his mouth with an earthy flavor that scratched his throat and made his nose run.

  Eventually, to the chagrin of his wife, Tarness trailed far behind everyone. She reluctantly gave him space, but not without cost. Nobody could cold-shoulder like a Nordruaut who’d spent most of her life
living on an iceberg. Jintorich did not give him space. He was like the neighbor kid who wanted all your toys. The little Meldusian rode close beside him, glancing over expectantly but saying nothing. No matter how small Jintorich was, four days of his discerning gaze was impossible to ignore.

  “What?” Tarness finally muttered.

  Jintorich continued staring.

  “I feel like you want something, or like I’m in trouble,” Tarness said. “Why don’t you just borrow my dad’s belt and give me a good wailing?”

  “That belt is probably too large for me to swing,” Jintorich said with a smirk.

  “Heh.” Tarness was unable to hold back the chuckle and wished Angst, Dallow, and Hector were here. Their irreverent humor could lift him up on his worst day. All these days felt like his worst.

  “You didn’t spend all those months searching for Jarle’s body,” Jintorich said, tugging at a wispy eyebrow.

  “How did you know?” Tarness asked, once again staring down at the avalanche. It felt like the snow was beginning to pile up a little higher.

  “You had no reason to bring Rasaol and Niihlu to us unless they had Jarle’s body. They could have brought it at any time. I deduct that they were waiting for something,” Jintorich said. “So, what have you been doing?”

  “I’ve been collecting body parts and bringing them to Magic,” Tarness said.

  “Body parts?” Jintorich asked.

  “Lurp’s body parts,” Tarness said with a shudder. “The enormous four-legged Al’eyrn that fought against Angst and Niihlu.”

  “Right,” Jintorich squeaked. “How could I forget such a monster? Too many thoughts in my head, I suppose. Why parts?”

  “Lurp was too large to bring all at once,” Tarness said. “And Magic refused to come out in the open himself. It took a month to chop off giant, frozen body parts and carry them to the cave where we met.”