The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces

by Craig Halloran

  CHAPTER 26

  “Where are we?” Elypsa sat on a rock inside a grove of leafless trees. Her breathing was rapid, and her voice raspy. “Where, Kuurn, where?”

  He took her by the hand and patted it. “You’re safe. I’d never let anything happen to you.”

  She jerked her hand away. Her stomach was in knots from the transportation spell. “Don’t touch me. I’m not grateful.”

  “As you say,” he replied. “But my feelings will never change. Where is Sornay?”

  “Dead.”

  “He was already dead.” Kuurn fingered his gored eye and grimaced. He was still plucking darts from his face. “I hate to admit it, but those fragile humans gave me a surprise. They fight like hungry urchlings. Some of them aren’t so weak as I thought, and they weren’t terrified of me at all.”

  She drew her knees up to her chest and winced. Her ribs were sore, probably broken. The man, Venir, had almost kicked the evil out of her. “Some humans have more guts than others.”

  Kuurn’s head tilted, and his brows wrinkled. “They do? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “It’s not a literal word, just a term of endearment they use to reference their wills. They say the stupidest things.” She looked up at Kuurn. “So did you kill any of them?”

  “Perhaps.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I never thought I’d see the day when I’d fall trying to kill humans.”

  “I don’t think we should mention this encounter to Master Sinway when we greet him,” Kuurn suggested.

  “And how do you suppose we explain the loss of his precious Sornay? He won’t take it lightly.” She kicked at the dust. “I’ll just tell him he died fighting to protect me from the Darkslayer. It’s an honorable death. Besides, he’s certain to be angry with me anyway.” She dusted her hands off and scanned the area. “Which way?”

  “We don’t have to walk anywhere if I wait a couple of days. The battle put me to task, but I saved enough magic to rescue you.”

  “You’re going to keep reminding me, aren’t you,” she said, extending her hand.

  Surprise filled his eyes as he helped her up. “I would do anything for you, Elypsa. You know that.”

  “Anything?”

  He nodded.

  “Close your eyes and pucker your lips,” she said with a smile.

  “Pucker my lips?”

  “Like this.” She pursed her lips.

  Kuurn closed his eyes and did as she requested.

  She didn’t know why she was going to do what she did, but something about the humans had gotten to her. She balled up her fist and slugged him in the jaw.

  He fell over backward and didn’t move a muscle. His breathing was fine.

  Hands on her hips, she laughed so loud it hurt her ribs. “Ha ha ha!” She sucked air through her teeth. “Enough of that, but it’s so funny it hurts.” She felt free and liberated somehow and wasn’t certain why. The only thing she could think of was she’d faced death by the Darkslayer and she had not died. “Hmmm … I never thought being alive could feel so good.”

  Kuurn came to consciousness. Sitting up on his elbows, he moved his lower jaw from side to side and glared at her. “What did you strike me for?”

  Thinking of the human women she’d met, she replied, “I guess because you’re male and I’m female.”

  “Meaning?”

  She shrugged. “Get your arse up, and let’s get going.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Inside the Orcen Elbow, Jubilee was dressing a nasty wound on Brak’s arm. She said to him, “Feeling better?”

  Speaking with a mouth stuffed full of meat and bread and with chicken grease dripping down his chin, Brak replied, “Yeah.”

  Jubilee shook her head. “Well, I’m just glad you’re back to normal and nobody died.”

  Brak eyed the tavern room he was in. It wasn’t familiar, and it looked like a tornado had torn through it. There were several people inside it now, picking up the unbroken tables and chairs and throwing the broken pieces into the firewood pile. A man almost as tall as Brak and as skinny as Melegal was coordinating the clean-up effort. “I did this, huh?”

  Jubilee nodded.

  He noticed a bruise on her cheek. “How did this happen?”

  Chin down, the girl shrugged. “I got in your way.”

  Brak’s throat tightened, and his eyes started to water. “I hurt you.”

  “No, I’m fine. Fogle broke my fall. Don’t worry about it, Brak. It was my fault. I should have stayed away like Fogle said.”

  Shaking his head no, he said, “No, it’s not fine.” He felt ashamed. Angry. He’d gone berserk, and he didn’t have any recollection of anything―not the tavern, not the ogres, not any of the wanton destruction around him. It was maddening. Using the knuckle of his index finger, he gently lifted up Jubilee’s chin. “I’m sorry. I promise I won’t let that happen again.”

  Tightening the binding on his arm, she replied, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Brak. Especially to me. I’ve been around you long enough to know what you can and can’t control when you get like that.”

  “It’s a curse.” He clenched his jaws and added, “I hate it.”

  “You’ve saved a lot of lives because of it. Don’t forget that―and don’t blame yourself. You’re a better man than that.” She touched his cheek. “And I’m a tough little woman. I can handle it.”

  “But I could have killed you.”

  “But you didn’t, and that’s what matters.” She offered him a jug of water and wiped his chin. “Now clean yourself up and straighten out.” She thumbed over her back. The ogres were behind the bar, fixing the shelves. “You’re starting to remind me of those two ogres.”

  “So the three of us did this?” He stared at the twin ogres. They were huge, standing as tall as Brak but fat and bulky like toads. The boards creaked with every step they took. One of the ogres picked up an entire support beam like a stick of wood, pushed up the sagging ceiling with it, and shoved it into place. “I just remember feeling like I was coming out of a dream and those two were stuffing their faces and still dreaming. I didn’t think it was real until someone said my mother’s name.”

  “That was Slim, the tall guy. This is his place, and apparently he knew your father and mother. At least he says so. He seems nice but odd.”

  Slim caught Brak’s eye and made his way over. He pulled up a chair and said, “Did you get your belly full?”

  Brak nodded.

  Slim’s eyes were penetrating. He shifted in his chair and started to look away. “You have Vorla’s eyes, that’s for certain, but that’s Venir’s chin. So, what happened to her?”

  “She was killed in Bone.”

  “By underlings?” Slim asked.

  “No, by a bunch of cutthroats.” Brak looked away. He didn’t like talking about it. He missed his mother more than anything and often wondered what it would be like if she were still alive.

  “I liked Vorla,” Slim continued. “She was very entertaining. Spirited. The world was much better with her than without her. I just assumed maybe the underlings got her just like they got everything else, including this city.”

  “What happened here?” Jubilee asked.

  “About a year ago,” Slim said as he softly touched Brak’s wounds one by one, “the underlings tore through everything and held the entire town hostage. However, they made a deal with the so-called Royals of Two-Ten City―who are a bunch of orcs and ogres. These Royals turned the humans over to the underlings. They killed every last one of them. Men. Women. Children. They let the rest of the races live so long as they stay out of underling business. A deal was struck in blood and sacrifice.”

  “So all the humans are gone? What about you?” She glanced at his spidery hand. “You’re a man, aren’t you?”

  Slim smiled. “I like to think I’m more than a man, and I sort of am.” He extended his spider hand out of his sleeve. The fingers were long and thin with fuzzy black hairs, and there were eight of them.
He wiggled them. “It’s creepy but unique.”

  Brak tucked his chin down. He was glad to be healed, but he wished Fogle had done it and not this stranger.

  Jubilee frowned and said, “It is creepy. What happened?”

  Stroking his face with his spider fingers, Slim looked at Brak and said, “It’s an interesting tale involving your father. He almost died. I saved him and mostly died. The crawly creatures carried what was left of me away to the arachnamen. They stitched me back up and also did this to me. I live, but a part of me still died.” He pointed at Brak. “But it was worth it, because your father is still alive. At least I hope he is. Nobody makes mincemeat out of underlings like he does. He really, really hates them.”

  “We know,” Jubilee said.

  “So,” Slim continued, “I’m allowed to live here because I’m a healer and the powers that be need me. I just have to hide when the underlings come around―and believe me, they do come around. Always unannounced. But I get fair warning.”

  In a soft voice, Jubilee said, “We can’t stay here, can we.”

  “With the entrance you made?” Slim raised his eyebrows. “The sooner you leave, the better.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Fogle lay on a decent-sized bed in a small room on the top floor of the Orc’s Elbow. A couple of hours ago Jubilee had delivered to him the news they wouldn’t be staying. But Slim and his colleagues had agreed to keep a lookout for underlings and cover for them with the locals so they could get some rest.

  I swear this bed is the most comfortable thing I have ever lain in.

  If Fogle had never left the City of Three, then this bed probably would have been the most uncomfortable bed he ever lay in. At the moment, after days of sleeping on the ground, it felt soft and rejuvenating. He squirmed in it and nuzzled his face in the small satin pillow.

  I feel like I could stay here forever.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been alone. Isolation was something he had thrived on all his life. It reinvigorated him, and only alone could he really bury himself in his studies. He’d been accustomed to visiting his peers only when he felt like it. To meeting in the nicest taverns and boasting over the finest wines. To showing off his mind grumble skills on the weak and talking of scandalous conquests within their precious mage towers. He’d been young then. Arrogant. Proud. He hadn’t had a single doubt in his head. He’d had the entire world all figured out.

  Bish, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Older now and wizened by the Outlands, he’d come to realize how childlike his musings had been before. Now, he was a different man. He’d found abilities within himself he’d never imagined, and he liked himself more. He’d survived. He’d learned. He’d conquered. He fluffed up his pillow and closed his eyes.

  Now if I can just shut off my mind. Let me have this peace now, and I’ll face death on a later date.

  He tried not to think about what needed to be done. Where would they go? Or where would they run? The way he understood it, there wasn’t any refuge for the humans―north, south, east, or west.

  Just forget about tomorrow, Fogle. Enjoy the silence. Enjoy the now.

  Alone in the rustic and dusty room amid the comforting sounds of the busy tavern downstairs, his taut muscles eased and his mind slowed into rest. He drifted off to sleep.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Fogle’s eyes popped open. “Aw, no, no, no. Go away.” He was certain it was Jubilee. The pesky girl never rested. She was always up. Talking. Walking. Humming. “If there aren’t any underlings in this den, then just go away!”

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  Fogle stuffed his face in the pillow and screamed.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  He chucked the pillow at the door and rolled up into a sitting position. After taking what he hoped would be a calming deep breath, he rose to his feet, crossed the room, and flung open the door, saying, “This better be good, Jubil—?” His mouth dropped open.

  Jarla stood in the doorway. Scarred and exotic, she was cleaned up, hair tied back behind her head, wearing a burgundy dress and her boots. A dagger was belted around her hips.

  The brigand queen brushed up against him on her way inside. “Close the door.”

  Swallowing, Fogle did as he was told.

  She was facing the bed and didn’t turn to speak when she said, “If you don’t like interruptions, you might want to secure the door.”

  With his heart speeding up he slid the bolt over and turned. Showing an uncertain smile, he said, “Welcome.”

  “Have a seat. We need to talk.” Her voice was as matter-of-fact as ever.

  Fogle reached for a small chair in the corner of the room and started dragging it over.

  “No,” she said, pointing to the bed. “Sit here.”

  Fogle sat on the bed right in front of her and said, “Done. So are you here to discuss an exit strategy?”

  Picking at her maroon lips, she said, “No, it’s more of an entry strategy.”

  “I don’t follow. Are we going to invade somebody’s territory?”

  She made a little smile. “Mage—”

  “Why don’t you call me Fogle?”

  Jarla shrugged. “Fogle, I liked what you did with your magic earlier today. I actually did find it impressive. Powerful. I liked it, and I don’t like many things.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  She leaned forward and grabbed his hands. She was face to face with him, caressing his fingers and looking him in the eyes. “I have a feeling there’s another kind of magic in your fingers. I’m curious.”

  “I can do a variety of things.”

  “Scoot back,” she said.

  He did.

  She straddled him. Her fingernails grazed his face and pushed the hair from his eyes. “Your stature is unlike what I’m used to, but I hope you can surprise me. Can you surprise me, Fogle?”

  Flushed, Fogle said, “I’ll think of something.” His fingers charged with a soft flowing energy. He touched her back and ran his hands slowly up her spine.

  Back arching, Jarla gasped.

  CHAPTER 29

  Venir, Kam, and Erin rode on Chongo, and Melegal and Jasper were on Quickster, leaving Billip and Nikkel on the last remaining horse. They galloped down through the Outland dust, following after the dwarves. After several weeks in Dwarven Hole getting refreshed, everyone was weary once more. At least they were alive.

  “How are you holding up?” Venir asked Kam.

  Her slender arms were wrapped around his waist, and her head was resting between his shoulders. Erin was sitting in front of him, wide eyed and excited as ever. Kam tickled Venir’s ribs and said, “I can finally feel my fingers again, but I couldn’t tell you where my toes are without looking.”

  He chuckled. His body rumbled when he did so.

  “You like this trip, don’t you,” Kam added.

  “I can’t say I hate it. Besides, what isn’t to like when I have my two favorite people with me?”

  One of Chongo’s heads, the one whose tongue hung out most of the time, barked.

  “Excuse me, Chongo. I meant three favorite people. Or creatures.”

  Chongo barked again.

  “Fine, people.”

  Pressed against Venir’s back, Kam’s body rumbled with her own laughter. “He truly is a marvelous person,” she said of Chongo. “I wish more people were like him.”

  “And I wish more people were as wise as you,” he replied.

  Kam rapped her knuckles on Helm, making a hollow sound. She said, “Do you have to wear this? I can only imagine how unbearably hot it is.”

  “I’d rather not, but after our last encounter, I don’t want to take any chances. Even with Chongo here we can’t be too careful.” He scratched Chongo behind the ears, and Erin did the same. The dwarven setter, transformed into a two-headed beast, was the ultimate hunter. Especially when it came to underlings.

  They’d made it a couple of miles when Chongo’s tails and ears
went up. A cloud of dust rose on the horizon. The rumbling of galloping hooves carried in the breeze.

  Holding his position, Venir said, “We have company.”

  Billip rode along his left side, and Melegal and Jasper his right.

  “There are many, very many,” the archer said, getting his bow ready.

  Venir glanced at Melegal. “Why don’t you ride out there and see who it is?”

  Without looking back at Venir, Melegal replied, “Sure. Can I borrow your helmet?”

  Laughing, Nikkel said, “I’ll ride out, Venir.”

  “No, there’s no need. Judging by the looks of them, those banners waving in the wind, I think it’s the jung.”

  “You can see that?” Billip asked.

  Within two minutes the jung were right on top of them. There were hundreds of human, black-haired riders who all carried the sandy-gray and white banners of the nomads in their hands. They were well armed and dressed in desert robes.

  Kark the jung leader rode on a great tan steed. Two curved swords hung from his hips like fangs. He and the rest of the jung were skinned up and bloody, right through their armor and robes. Many had soaked-red bandages for hands and arms. Built like a bear, Kark leaned forward in his saddle and eyed Chongo. His eyes slid up to Venir, and he said, “Either you live, or a giant white corpse breathes.”

  “My blood still runs hot,” Venir said, removing Helm. “You sound like a person who has heard otherwise.”

  “Mood implied you were gone. I should have known he lied. He’s gone mad.” Kark spat a bunch of black juice onto the ground. “Too many jung have died.”

  “What happened?” Venir asked.

  The hardened fighter’s dark eyes narrowed. His face was full of anger. “He marched us straight into the canyons of the Badlands. My baked skin crawled, but Mood assured me the passes would be fine. Halfway in, the canyon’s rims filled with those demon jewel-eyed underlings. They coated us like a sandstorm. I’ve lost over half of my jung.” He beat his chest. “My pride. Slaughtered.”