Tired of Death

by Neil Hartley

  "They prefer the term cat-people actually. Very correct folk they are." He pulled himself sidewise, to lean on one of the arms of the throne. "No, they won't help, at least to that extent. Ungrateful felines!" Harvey scowled. "As for me, I'm limited in where I can venture. Should I stray too far from this cursed throne," he slapped the item in question," I will perish."

  "Doesn't look like you're far off now," muttered Percy.

  Dreth made a face. "Mmm. So what's this little quest of yours that's so easy?"

  "I told you. Merely recover an item. It's in a crypt down yonder way," he waved towards the far end of the chamber, at a large stone door. "Crypts should be right down your alley I would have thought. Almost like a holiday." He wheezed strangely, and it took Dreth a moment to realize he was laughing.

  "And what is this item? Last time we retrieved something for someone it didn't turn out so well," Dreth said, remembering the Runebox escapade.

  "I don't know," replied the man. He held up his hand to forestall the protest. "Look, I'll come clean, alright?"

  "That would be a first," muttered Redthorne.

  "I was once a powerful wizard, and no, before you ask, I can't help your curse Dreth. Anyway, I was greedy, and I signed a deal with the Management here for eternal life."

  "This all sounds very familiar," said Percy. "You two should have a good chat about reading contracts before you sign them." He pointed at Dreth and Harvey. Cuthbert sniggered.

  "Quiet," said Dreth, irritated because the zombie had a point.

  "As your friend mentioned," Harvey went on, "I didn't read the small print. The spell bound me to this throne. It regenerates me, keeps me alive, although not in pristine condition admittedly. I've festered here for generations, trying to escape. In fact I was the one that created the cat-people. They were supposed to work for me, to be my army, but they refused. Now they live in the caverns nearby and ignore me for the most part. Though they do sometimes help me out when I request it."

  "And this object, which you still haven't told me about, will help you escape?" Dreth pondered the implications of such an item.

  Harvey shook his head. "I don't know. This item is something that's being kept there by the Management. I really don't know what it is. All I know is that they think it's important, so I want it to piss them off. That is why the cat-people won't go there; they don't want to rile the rulers of this forsaken hole. I'm past caring, and you've already annoyed them." He slumped back in his throne. "There, the whole sordid story."

  "You really don't know what it is?" asked Percy.

  "I told you, no idea."

  "And if we bring you this item, what do we get?" Dreth said.

  Von McVon leaned forward and poked a scabby finger at them. "I can tell you how to get to the treasure. That's what you want isn't it?"

  "Let me consult for a moment," Dreth replied, and went into a huddle with the others a little distance away from the throne. "What do you think?"

  Percy shrugged. "Why not? We don't exactly know where we're going anyway. One way is as good as another."

  "I don't trust him," said Redthorne.

  "You're a wizard, you don't trust anyone," replied Cuthbert. "I don't trust you, come to that."

  "If we do find this item, maybe we can take it with us," said Sprat, surprising everybody.

  Dreth looked down at the little zombie. "My thinking exactly Spurt. Glad one of us is on the ball. And if we can't, then we bring it back here anyway, or discard it altogether." He turned back to Harvey, his decision made.

  "We'll do it, but no guarantees."

  Von McVon wheezed his laugh again. "Excellent. I knew you were the ones."

  Dreth let that comment pass. "Any hints? A bit of help? Perhaps a map?"

  "I can do one better." He raised his voice and shouted. "Tom!"

  From the shadows one of the cat-men emerged, he was almost identical to the one from the tunnel, but had black fur.

  "This is Tom, my assistant. He can show you the way."

  "I though the cat-men didn't want to help?" asked Cuthbert, eyeing the newcomer uncertainly.

  "Cat-people," corrected Tom with a low snarl, "is the correct term. We're a society of equals unbiased as to gender."

  "Tom is my assistant," said Harvey. "He's more curious than the others it seems. Or maybe he's just spying on me for the rest of them. Eh Tom?" He squinted at the feline.

  The cat man ignored the comment and licked a paw.

  "Are you invisible?" asked Percy. "I mean, er..." He stopped, confused.

  "No. Only some of us have that trait," said Tom. "I can still rip your throat out faster than you can blink though." He flexed a hand stuffed with sharp claws.

  "Charming," said Percy with a sniff.

  "Delightful as this little chat is, shall we get going?" asked Dreth.

  "Wait a minute," said Redthorne. "I need to change the baby."

  "Into lunch would be good," said Cuthbert, but quietly so the wizard wouldn't hear.

  ~ * ~

  "I just don't like it. Why split up when we're already so weak?" Xyth Greenfinger peered down the corridor.

  Vish sighed. She was tired of listening to Xyth complain. His moaning was beginning to distract her, and that could be fatal in this place. "Because," she explained for the thousandth time, "Hammath has so commanded."

  "But those invisible things are still around, we could end up like poor Rendath, newly married he was too."

  "Our mage has cast spells on us. We should be able to see them now, as you well know. Anyway, if we can recover the baby we can all get out of here."

  Greenfinger made a face. "None of us are going to get out of here. Hello? What's this?" He paused, running a finger lightly over a section of wall. "Some mechanism. No doubt a trap that will maim and poison us." He examined the stone carefully.

  Vish Woodstroker rolled her eyes, but waited patiently as the other elf brought out his tools. A moaner he was, but Xyth was bloody good at avoiding traps, as well as spotting hidden things. He had already disarmed several snares that she would have walked straight into. He'd also found the area they were now in, which seemed to be cut from a different rock than the maze that had been slowly killing them before. She hefted the tube Marrim Runecaster had given her. To be used against the wizard if they encountered him, she had said. Vish didn't want to encounter anything.

  There was a click and Xyth stood up. A portion of the wall fell away to reveal a large and gloomy room beyond. "After you," he said.

  Scowling, Vish drew her rapier and stepped carefully through the doorway. Mist crept atmospherically over the floor, and the temperature dropped rapidly.

  "Come on in," she hissed moving forward slowly.

  Xyth crept in behind her and made a noise. "It's cold!"

  "Shhh!" said Vish, looking around. "I think there's something over that way." She stalked through the mist towards several large caskets lined against the wall. "Oh crap. We're in some sort of tomb, let's get out of here."

  She turned to go, but as she did so the fog erupted next to them, to reveal an enormous shape. "Hur hur! Gut gonna have me some elf!" it said in a loud voice, lunging at her with huge hands.

  Xyth screamed and danced backwards as Woodstroker ducked and stabbed at the monster with her blade. It struck home, but was merely a pin prick to the creature.

  "Aaahhh! Bad! Gut hurt! Gut bash!"

  Vish jumped high in the air to avoid the clumsy attack, but it had been a ruse. Another hand grabbed her, pinning her arms to her side. "Xyth!" she cried, but the other elf was nowhere to be seen.

  A horrendous visage drew close, crooked yellow teeth in a massive mouth loomed. Fetid breath washed over her as her captor examined its prize.

  "Let me go!" The elf struggled to speak.

  "No chance!" The hand squeezed.

  Vish opened her mouth, gasping for air. She felt her ribs crack, and her arms break as the giant tightened his grip. "Bastard..." she just about managed to croak, then the world fa
ded...

  ~ * ~

  "This way, keep up please." Tom scurried silently along as the others tried to match his pace.

  "Slow down, there could be traps," complained Cuthbert, "Sprat can't keep up and neither can I."

  Dreth nodded. "The zombie makes a good point for once, about the traps I mean," he said.

  Tom folded muscular arms. "I wouldn't fall for any traps," he said.

  "Well, I might," said Dreth, "and if I get cut in half I'll make sure you suffer the same fate."

  The cat-man sneered, but slowed his pace.

  "How much further?" asked Percy. He peered around at the walls, which were almost black in color.

  "Not far now," hissed their guide.

  "Are you sure this is wise?" asked Redthorne.

  "No, but then nothing I've done recently is wise," replied Dreth. "Come to think of it, I wasn't too wise getting into this whole mess in the first place. Percy was right about me not reading that contract."

  "Told you so," said the zombie, overhearing.

  "You can hardly talk can you?" said Cuthbert. "Bet you didn't plan on being undead all your life did you?"

  "Oh, pot calling the cattle black!"

  "Kettle not cattle," interrupted Dreth. "And be quiet you two, I think we're here."

  They drew up beside Tom, who was standing next to an archway. Peering through, Dreth could make out some narrow stairs heading down. "There's no chance these stairs are trapped of course," he said dryly to the cat-man.

  Tom merely grinned smugly. "I don't know. This is as far as I go. I'll wait here for you, though you probably won't come back up."

  "I had a cat once," said Dreth. "I had it neutered." Ignoring the look on Tom's face, he turned to Percy. "Your turn. Get going."

  "One day you're going to run out of guinea cows, and then where will you be?" the undead grumbled as he gingerly stepped onto the first stair.

  "I'll manage somehow," said Dreth, pushing Cuthbert down next.

  Once the zombies had climbed a little way in, Dreth followed, with Redthorne and the baby behind. Sprat brought up the rear.

  The stairs wound around in a spiral, and were narrow and uneven, making the footing treacherous. The gloom deepened as they descended, and it started to get colder. Still, no traps were sprung, and they made it down to the bottom safely.

  "Well, so far so good," said Percy.

  They examined their new surroundings. There wasn't much to see. A short, wide passage, made of the same black stone, led up to a solid looking wooden doorway.

  "Forward!" commanded Dreth. "Go around the wall though. I don't like that patch of light stone in the middle there."

  The zombies complied, making it to the end of the short corridor unscathed. The others followed cautiously and soon all were stood contemplating the portal.

  "May as well," shrugged Dreth, and pushed.

  The door swung open with a creak, to reveal a cavernous dark chamber. Mist crawled over the floor, and the walls and high ceiling stretched out as far as they could see, disappearing into the gloom.

  "Ooh!" said Percy. "We never had mist. That is so cool!"

  "Harvey said the item was here, stored in the middle casket," said Redthorne. "It must be that one over there, on that platform." He pointed to a raised section some distance away, which stood higher than the surrounding fog. Perched on top of the dais were several large caskets.

  The group started forward, but almost immediately Cuthbert kicked something. He stooped and fumbled about, trying to locate what he'd kicked.

  "A skeleton, poor bugger. All crushed," he said eventually.

  "No doubt it wasn't a skeleton when the crushing took place," said Dreth. "Which leads me to my next question."

  "What did the crushing?" Redthorne finished for him.

  "Er, probably he did," said Percy, pointing.

  "Oh fug!" Dreth backpedaled quickly, followed in short order by the others, as a giant form lumbered towards them, an idiot grin on his face.

  "Gut eat!" Boomed a voice, which echoed around the hall. The large shape, at least three times as tall as Dreth, was dressed in tattered brown rags. His greasy brown hair fell past broad shoulders, and he was in serious need of a bath. A long warty nose overhung a wide mouth, full of crooked yellow teeth.

  Dreth turned just in time to see the door slam shut. "Scatter!" he shouted, as the huge figure swung at them.

  They needed no telling. Redthorne was picking up speed rapidly, the baby crying as it was bounced around. Of Sprat there was no sign. Cuthbert and Percy were dodging left and right.

  Dreth sprinted into the dark as the giant's laughter bounced off the walls. "Such fun!"

  "Let me at it! I'll slice its fingers off! What a feast!" Darkblood complained from his sheath.

  Dreth ignored the sword and ducked behind a boulder, which turned out to also be sheltering the wizard, who was squatting down, a hand over the baby's mouth to keep it quiet.

  "Can you cast some sort of protection spell on me?" said Dreth. "A shield of some kind?"

  Redthorne nodded. "Keep the baby quiet while I work."

  Dreth grabbed the infant and stuffed some of his robe into its mouth as the mage hastily worked his magic. In the distance he could dimly see the giant chasing Percy, who was running in circles and screaming.

  There was a sudden flash of light, and a shimmer surrounded Dreth briefly.

  "Done! You should be good for about 20 minutes," said Redthorne. "The shield will protect you from crushing but not sharp objects. I figured that thing would rely on smashing rather than swords."

  "Thanks for the tip," said Dreth and stood up. He drew Darkblood as he walked forward, looking like the angel of death as he strode through the fog.

  "Giant! Come on and pick on someone not your own size!" he shouted.

  The beast stopped running after Percy and looked around. "Little man die now!" he said, and lumbered forward.

  Dreth held his ground, hoping the wizard's spell would be up to it. The giant was big! Fat bounced as it jogged towards him. Ugly too. Its face made Cuthbert look pretty.

  As it closed the giant slowed, puzzled as to why its prey was not running away.

  Dreth raised Darkblood, which positively hummed with bloodlust. "Feeed meeee!" it moaned.

  "Giant! Surrender now. You cannot hurt me. I'm Dreth the Giant Slayer."

  "Gut bash! Gut no afraid!" came the response.

  "Gut! Is that your name? Listen to me. I am Dreth of the Undead Way! We're from the dungeon too. No need to attack us!" Dreth tried reasoning.

  Gut merely snarled, and grabbed him with a giant fist, enveloping Dreth. Darkblood was held out horizontally though, and the sword pierced the giant's hand, resulting in a howl of pain of deafening proportions.

  "Bloooood!" shrieked the blade, drinking life essence.

  Still, the cut was not fatal, and giant was big and strong. He squeezed hard.

  The spell held, and a look of puzzlement washed over the huge face as Dreth remained unharmed.

  "Have you had enough? Or do you want me to get angry?"

  Gut dropped him and, clutching his injured hand, backed away. "Gut sorry Mr. Dreth! Gut not know! Please not hurt Gut!"

  Dreth picked himself up off the floor and dusted himself down. "That's better. A bit of respect!" He turned around. "Come on out! Our friend has learned his lesson."

  Slowly the others emerged from the haze. Sprat popped out of the fog next to Dreth, making him jump. "I found a stick!" he said happily, showing Dreth a short tube clutched in his hand.

  "Yes yes, go and play with it somewhere else, there's a good minion," said Dreth, keeping his eyes on Gut.

  Sprat nodded and skipped off, waving his new toy around as the others approached.

  "Good job," nodded Redthorne.

  Dreth spoke to Gut, who was sitting down now, blubbering to himself. "Giant! Which casket have you been told to guard?"

  "That one sir, please not kill Gut sir! They said Gut hurt peo
ple as long as box not touched." Gut pointed at the raised platform they had spotted earlier.

  "Very good," Dreth replied. "Stay there then. If you are good I will er, let you help us some more."

  "Oh joy," muttered Cuthbert.

  They climbed onto the dais and looked at the casket, which was made of dark stone. The cover was of the same material, without adornment, and appeared to be simply rested on the top.

  "It's a bit coffin like isn't it?" said Percy cheerfully. He heaved on the lid, which slid open in a cloud of dust.

  They peered in. "Cooo! Look at that!" said Cuthbert.

  "A babe," Percy replied. "Cute, and tasty looking."

  Dreth slapped his hand away. "No eating the merchandise. This woman must be what old rotten wants." He brushed a few cobwebs away and looked her over.

  She was, he had to admit, fairly attractive for a corpse. Long hair was arranged carefully about her. It was striped white and black, like some sort of desert animal Dreth only half remembered. She was garbed in a simple long black robe, and her skin was a pale and delicate cream color. Her hands, which were crossed over her in the classic pose, were adorned with four rings, each one had a different colored jewel set in the middle, which sparkled even in the limited light.

  "Well, no sense hanging around." He bent over and then stopped. She had opened her eyes and was looking at him.

  "Er, hello? Who are you?" she said. "Are you the one?"

  Dreth paused and then straightened up. "Could be," he said. "Name's Dreth. We were, er, just passing by. So. Ah. How's it going with you then?"

  Percy tittered and whispered something in Cuthbert's ear.

  "I'm waiting," the woman said, sitting up in one swift motion, vampire style.

  "What a lovely name," said Cuthbert. "I'm Cuthbert, this is Percy. Zombies first class at your service."

  "Ignore these idiots. Who are you waiting for?" Dreth enquired politely.

  "I..." She frowned. "I don't know."

  Redthorne tapped Dreth on the shoulder. "A word?" he said, and moved away.

  Dreth followed as the woman rose, slightly unsteadily, to her feet.

  "Let me help you there," said Percy, as she climbed out of her coffin.