Nights in The City of Bone had always been dangerous. City Watchmen used to call the shots with arrogant priggery, where they controlled the districts. Man-urchins, rogues and thugs would rule the streets, preying on the drunk, stupid and weak. Only the seediest of sorts would ever dare come out a night, before. But now, all those troublesome elements were gone. Replaced by permanent evil that preyed on every human, without any discretion.
Hugging the walls from corner to corner, Corrin led the way. A pack of dogs gnawed on dead flesh. Many human heads were mounted on lantern posts. Creed’s stomach no longer turned. He hadn’t gagged in days. He was used to it. Death. Decay.
“Foul, these things,” Corrin muttered, stepping over a corpse with a dozen holes poked in it. “This way,” Corrin said, trekking down an alley. His feet splashed through the muck. He came to a stop, gaping. “Bish.”
A cobweb filled the alley from one side to the other. Behind it another and another.
“Let’s go back,” Corrin said, backing away. He bumped into Creed’s chest.
“No, wait.”
Creed stepped forward and stretched one of his blades out.
“Don’t,” Corrin started.
The metal sliced the webbing. It peeled away and dissipated.
“I’ll be.”
Creed donned his hood and took the lead. The crooning renewed. The underlings were near, but not near enough. Good. He wanted to get back to Bloodhound Castle. Satisfy Corrin. Although coarse and unpleasant, the man had a resolve about him. Made up his mind and stuck with it. Creed liked that about the older man. He had family like that. Liars, thieves and whoremongers, or of a reputable sort. He was used to it. But even his family, a pack of jackals, no matter how hungry didn’t venture out at night. Corrin did.
“Agghh!” Creed said.
Something big as a cat scurried out of the wall. A spider with glowing green spots on its back crossed from one side to the other.
“Did you see that thing?” Corrin said, shivering.
“Just a bug,” Creed said.
Corrin seemed shriveled up when he said, “Hate spiders. Even the tiniest ones.”
Creed slit more webbing. Marched through. There were spiders bigger than horses roaming the streets. He’d seen them. Killed them. Corrin hadn’t heard about that part.
Another spider scurried by and up the wall. Followed by another.
“We almost there?” Creed asked
“Yes,” Corrin hissed. His head swiveled around. Eyes darting up and down. “Go faster.”
Creed could sense the underlings, but not spiders. Or any other thing for that matter. He wondered why that was. His hood began crooning again. An eerie sound filled his ears. His skinned crawled. His veins ignited with fire.
“What is that noise?” Corrin said, drawing out his sword.
Above, the clouds blocked the light of the moons. That’s when Creed looked up. Over the rooftops they came. Underlings riding on the backs of spiders.
Corrin gawped. “You must be slatting me.” He took off running.
“No Corrin!” Creed said, stretching out after him.
Toowah. Toowah. Toowah. Toowah. Toowah. Toowah. Toowah. Toowah.
Darts filled the air. Javelins clattered off stone. Corrin spilled face first in the ground. In an instant he was covered in cat-sized spiders.
CHAPTER 4
“Stay awake!” Venir said.
Melegal shuffled back. Eyes wide. Long fingers drifting to his hilts.
Venir shook his head. “Just come,” he said, gathering his gear. He filled his hands with dwarven steel. “We’ll get her.”
Melegal fell in step. A shadow behind him. Venir wasn’t so much mad at Melegal as he was himself. It wasn’t the first time the thief had dozed off. His friend wasn’t accustomed to the Outland like him. And, the weary eyed thief was exhausted. He didn’t say it, but Venir could tell.
Venir squatted down and fingered the dirt. Haze’s body had left a dragging impression, but the tracks were small. Tiny impressions in the ground. Barely traceable. He sniffed the air. Keen as his instincts were, he smelled nothing out of the ordinary.
“Not sure,” he said, moving on.
“Not sure what?” Melegal asked.
Venir glanced over his shoulder.
“What took her.”
“Underlings?”
Venir shrugged. Kept going. The morning light behind them. It bothered him. Every hour of the trip bothered him a little more with every league. If he had the armament, he could at least rule out underlings, but now he couldn’t say. He felt blinded. Muted. Weakened. He ached. He should have shaken it off by now.
Continuing another few hundred yards, the body impression of Haze stopped. He circled the spot wider and wider, peering everywhere.
“They picked her up,” Melegal said, staring at the ground. “Whatever they is.”
Venir had his theories. The tracks were similar to sand spiders, but those didn’t sneak into camps and haul people off. Underlings often rode spiders’ backs, but they would have taken them all out, not just one. Whatever it was, it was different. He pushed the hair out of his eyes as the wind picked up.
“Be ready,” he said, picking up his pace. “The hot breeze will wipe out the tracks if we don’t move quick.” He started into a trot. Bone!
Venir had thought the journey back to the City of Three would be quick and easy. It was anything but that. The man who once thought he could handle anything wasn’t so sure of himself. His ribs were busted. His jaw rattled. One ear was sawn off. Over the past few weeks he’d had the living snot beaten out of him and had lived to tell about it. Talking only made it worse. The threshold of death sang to him. Somehow he dodged its embrace. He should feel joyous. Triumphant. The survivor that survived it all. But the fires inside were gone. And, he missed Chongo. He’d found him only to lose him right after. Mood and Slim were gone too.
Suck it up, Venir!
Now, he felt naked in the Outlands. Raw. He knew the terrain as well as anyone, but he knew it better with the Armament. With Chongo and others.
We should have stayed with a caravan.
Pride had prevailed. He could cross the landscape faster than any man. Lead Melegal and Haze through the wilderness. But after a day, he doubted himself. And there were things Melegal had told him. About Georgio, Billip, and Mikkel. He had a son by a woman named Vorla. He’d really liked her. She’d died looking for him. And Kam waited for him in the City of Three with their baby daughter. So much had happened since he departed, he didn’t know what to feel.
They’ll probably wish I hadn’t come back once they see me.
His booted toes stopped on the edge of a sink hole that started to form. He stretched out his axe, stopping Melegal. He pointed to rocks that lay nearby.
“Toss one in there,” he said.
Melegal ambled over, drawing one sword, picked up a rock and eyed him.
Venir nodded.
Melegal tossed it in.
A sand spider erupted from the ground. Sand-colored with black stripes, tiny red eyes and dripping fangs. Its body the size of a large hound.
Venir chopped into its legs.
Hack! Hack! Hack!
It spit webs. Spewed acid.
“Argh!”
Venom sizzled on Venir’s forearm.
Hack!
He brained it.
Its eight hairy legs juttered and it sunk back into its sandy hole.
Melegal’s hips twisted back and forth, sword ready.
“Should I expect more?”
Venir shook his head, grimacing. The skin on his arm was red and bubbling.
“You alright?”
“Could be worse. Just stay behind me.”
Another half mile they went. Trotting. The brisk winds started to blur the tracks. Venir ignored the burning in his arm. Hid his worry. There was a good chance that if they lost the tracks, they’d lose Haze altogether.
“Maybe we should move faster,” Mele
gal said.
“Maybe,” Venir replied. “But if we hit a spider pit, it’s over.”
“If we don’t find Haze, it’s over.”
“We’ll find her,” Venir growled.
A hundred yards later, he came to a stop. The tracks were gone.
Melegal rubbed his forehead, shaking his head, facing down.
“We keep going the way we were headed,” Venir said.
“What’s that?” Melegal pointed.
In the distance, strange objects jutted from the ground. Mud houses shaped like bee hives. A faint smell caught Venir’s nose. He sniffed.
Melegal yawned.
“Bone!”
It was the same smell he’d awoken to. Like coffee. A little sweeter. He yawned. His instincts fired. His eyes caught Melegal’s. That’s why they’d slept so soundly. That smell.
Melegal started his march forward.
Venir stayed him with his hand.
“I’ll go—”
“You aren’t—”
“—first!”
They approached.
The structures weren’t particularly large or many in number. Dome shaped entry ways, a few feet high, made out of dirt, rock and wood, held together by a white pasty substance. Venir touched it. It was hard. Didn’t stick. He guessed the threshold was there to keep the light out and the dirt from filling in. He peered down inside the tunnel. The coffee smell wasn’t strong, but it was from there.
“Pretty dark in there,” he said, kneeling down. “Maybe we should wait them out.”
“We don’t even know what they are.”
Melegal reached inside his cloak and withdrew a coin wrapped in cloth. A bright burst of light winked from it.
“I’m going in,” Melegal said, creeping toward the entry way.
Venir’s head throbbed. He longed for the helm. It had made the night seem as bright as day. He’d been without the armament before, but it had never bothered him so much. He hadn’t been so long without it. It was almost as if he’d lost everything. He needed to get to the City of Three. Reunite with the others. Sit by a fire. Drink.
“Melegal,” he said, laying a hand on Melegal’s bony shoulder.
The skinny-faced thief with the scraggly beard paused and looked right at him.
“Fight or die,” Venir said.
Melegal huffed.
“What else would we do?”
CHAPTER 5
Brak swung the fireplace spade into Darleen’s nearest goon’s face.
Wok!
The man screamed, his nose crushed beneath the metal.
Darleen squalled. Ripped another knife out.
“Yer gonna regret that!”
She lunged at Brak. Tripped over Billip’s foot and crashed to the floor.
The other thug tore a dagger at Billip’s chest. He twisted out of the way.
Georgio socked the man in the jaw. Drove a fist in his gut, doubling him over.
Brak smacked the same man in the head with the shovel again. The spade bent and the man went down cold.
Billip twisted the blades from Darleen’s hands and kicked them away.
“Enough of this, Woman!”
“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!” She squealed like a pig.
“Brak!” Georgio said.
The other thug had Georgio’s curly head in a lock at his waist. The heavier man held him locked in a vice. Georgio’s face turned red.
Brak was there in two strides and said, “Let him go!”
“Let her go,” the thug said.
Brak slugged the man between the eyes with a sledge-like punch.
The man blinked a few times. His head rolled on his fat neck. “Try that again—”
Whop!
The thug melted onto the planks.
Georgio coughed and rubbed his throat. He looked at the man on the floor.
“They don’t miss any meals.”
Nikkel appeared. Wide eyed. Worried.
“What are you doing?”
Billip had Darleen’s arms behind her and his knee in her back.
“We’re wrestling trolls,” Billip said, struggling. “What’s it look like we’re doing?”
“Who you calling troll?” Darleen spat. “I’m going to rip that goatee off your face, Billip!”
Brak had never wanted to hurt a woman ever, but he wanted to now. Or at least make her disappear somehow. Darleen was a menace. Hardy. Annoying. Stupid. Dangerous. She fit in the Magi Roost about as well as a sow with make-up. He shook his head. He was hungry. Tired. Angry. He kneeled down and grabbed a handful of her hair. Pulled her face to his. Looked her dead in the eye. She reeked of alcohol.
“Shut your mouth.”
She fell silent. Her body slackened. She sobbed.
“Why don’t you like me?”
All the men sighed. Billip rolled his eyes.
This wasn’t the first time Darleen had a fit. They all looked at each other. Georgio was shaking his head. Darleen brought this up all the time. Who liked her and who didn’t. So far, only a handful of people hadn’t admitted to it. That was all the men in the room other than the thugs on the floor. They’d suck the dirt from her toes if she asked them to.
Billip eased off her back and slapped her big rump.
“Cause your ornery like an orc.”
She rolled over, tears filling her eyes.
“I’m not an orc,” she moaned. “I’m a woman.”
“A woman with a poor disposition.”
Darleen sat, slack jawed, swaying on the floor. She scrunched her face. Her ferret eyes thinking.
“So I’m brassy,” she moaned. “Lots of folks like brassy.”
“Yes, well,” Billip said, reaching out and helping her into a chair.
“Brazen like an ogre is more like it!” Georgio said.
Darleen’s eyes narrowed on Georgio. “You muffin headed bastard! You started this!” She started to rise and spit on the floor.
Brak and Billip stepped between the pair.
“Nikkel! Is there any coffee ready?” He turned to Georgio. Whispered, “Get your arse out of sight.”
Darleen and Georgio were oil and water. Brak would never forget how it started. A day after they arrived, they’d all sat a table reuniting. There was a feast. Loaves of bread. Stacks of meat and cheese. Soups of many varieties. The serving girls were polite and very pretty. Darleen was even cheerful. Coarse, but entertaining. Then Georgio had asked Kam why they kept a woman with a butt like an ogre. The grudge match had been going on ever since.
Darleen sniffed. She craned her neck. “I hate him.”
“Darleen,” Billip said, patting her knee. “He’s a young man. But a good worker. I can get good work out of him.”
She shook her head. “You guys are just here for Kam. And that baby. Otherwise you’d probably leave me.”
“We like it here. Just let us do the work and you enjoy it.”
Brak nodded.
Darleen scowled at him. “You’re an ogre, Big Face.”
Brak had heard it all his life, but it didn’t bother him. He’d known he was different from the beginning. He was much bigger than people his age. Much older looking too. Always tall, thick and quiet, he never fit in. Just let Billip do the talking.
“Darleen, let’s settle you in the sack. When you get up, I’ll have this all taken care of.”
She nodded.
Brak felt the tension between his great shoulders ease. They might even get something to eat earlier than expected, with Darleen down. She always wanted to take charge where she wasn’t needed, and it was Kam’s place, not hers. Of course, he’d spent little time with Kam and his, so far as he understood it, half-sister, Erin. He glanced at the entrance to the Magi Roost. He saw Kam staring at it from the balcony from time to time. He wondered if she was thinking what he was. Would his father, Venir, stroll through there one day?
Nikkel returned with an urn of coffee and two metal mugs and set them on the table.
Darleen
shuddered a sob and said, “Thank you. Mmmm. Smells good.” She grabbed the metal coffee pot and poured. She bobbed her head and looked at Billip. “I think I’ll take your advice. It’s been a long night. Can I fill you up a cup?”
“Sure,” Billip said. He grabbed his cup and held it out.
Darleen swung the metal coffee pot into his jaw.
Clang!
Billip fell out of his chair clutching his face, stunned.
Darleen raised the pot again and slung it at Nikkel.
He ducked under it, swooped in and locked up her arms.
“Let go of me!” she growled. Nikkel was big for a young man, but Darleen was bigger. Nastier. She drove her knee into his crotch.
“Oof!” Nikkel said, buckling over.
Brak went in for the bear hug. She slipped out of his arms like a wild animal and slugged him in the jaw.
“Ow,” she said, flinging her hand, wincing. She launched her boot between his thighs. Once. Twice. Three times! “How’d that feel, you big-faced bastard!”
Brak sagged to the floor.
Darleen went for her knives.
“Now I’m going to cut all your—”
Georgio tackled her. Drove her into the floor. She started stabbing.
Georgio howled.
“How’s that feel, Pie Face!” She stuck him the leg again.
“OW! You wart hog!”
All the men piled on top of her. Billip wrenched the blade from her stabbing hands.
“I’ve had enough of this!” Billip said. “Stop it!”
She spat in his face. Kicked and flailed all over. “You haven’t seen the worst of me yet,” she growled. “Scorch! Scorch! Scor—mmrph!”
Brak clamped his mouth over her mouth. She bit through the skin. He held on.
“I hope you have a very good reason for this,” a voice said.
The room went silent. Everyone froze. Ears perked. Eyes wide.
Brak glanced over his shoulder. Scorch stood, arms folded over his chest. A look of disappointment on his handsome face. At his side, another man stood, hair black as coal and dark features. His eyes shone like red rubies.
“They attacked me, Scorch!” Darleen said, wrestling back up to her feet. She shoved Billip’s face. “Tried to kill me.’
The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces Page 3
