Tired of Death

by Neil Hartley

  "A soon to be dead..." The figure cut off a moment and peered at him. "Wait a minute! Are you that meddlesome Guardian? The one who has run off?"

  "The very one. And I want some answers."

  "I don't parley with minions," replied the hooded man haughtily, crossing his arms.

  "In that case, I've no reason to keep you around." Dreth pushed Darkblood forward slightly.

  "On the other hand, negotiation is often the way forward," said the Management, quickly implementing a policy U-turn.

  "I knew you would see reason," Dreth eased the sword back very slightly and looked around. "Nice place you have here."

  "Look at me! I'm the boss!" Cuthbert was sitting at a large wooden desk. "Hey! Are these cigars?!" He opened a small box. "Why they are! Dragon Finest Blend. Very nice." He bit the end off one and looked around for a light.

  "Why are you here?" asked the Master.

  "A question some of us have been asking ourselves for some time now," said Emerald, stepping forward. "Maybe you can provide the answers?"

  "You! How did... What are... I mean...?"

  "We ask the questions here," interrupted Dreth. "Now, you can start with telling us where to find the treasure."

  "The dungeon treasure?"

  "No, aunts' secret recipe for chocolate sauce," replied Dreth, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Of course the dungeon treasure!"

  "Oh, it's in the Pit, a few leagues north of here, but you need a key to get in."

  "That would be the one in the Runebox I take it," said Redthorne. "The one our young zombie friend stuck to the Golem."

  Dreth scowled. "I don't suppose there's another one by any chance?"

  The Master laughed. "Not a chance! We don't make it easy for anyone to stroll in and help themselves." He smiled evilly. "So you'd better give up now. If you promise to return to your post I'll forget this whole thing ever happened."

  "There's no other way in?" Percy looked up from a book he was pretending to read.

  "No." The Dungeon Master leaned forward slightly, squinting at Dreth. "Who are you anyway? Why is the Overlord so insistent you don't leave? Tell me, and maybe we can work something out. I know what his weakness is you know."

  It was Dreth's turn to frown. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

  "And who am I? Why have you held me prisoner?" Emerald pushed her way forward.

  The Manager rubbed his hands together slightly. "You are part of an agreement with have with a Lower Power my dear. I'm afraid you will have to return to your casket, or It may get annoyed."

  "It? Who is It?" Emerald asked.

  The Dungeon Master chuckled from within his hood. "Sorry. The time for answers is over. Now you will pay for your insolence!" He raised a hand even as Dreth lunged forward with Darkblood.

  The sword pierced the robe, but it was too late. The body of the Master no longer filled it, and it dropped down to hang loosely around the blade, which howled with anger.

  At the same time shouts and the sound of many footsteps could be heard from the corridor outside, approaching quickly.

  Dreth ran over to the door just as the burly figure of an orc entered the room. He pushed the guard to one side, smashing him head first into one of the bookcases, and slammed the door shut, leaning on it to prevent anyone else entering. "Percy, Cuthbert, find something to barricade us in, quickly!" he shouted. The door vibrated as someone bounced off the other side.

  The zombies and humans hurriedly dragged a desk and a heavy bookcase over, and the portal was soon wedged shut.

  "Now what?" asked Cuthbert, picking up his cigar again. "That won't hold them forever."

  "Mage, spell us out of here!" Emerald said.

  "I can't, unless you can think of a way to nullify the Spite," Redthorne answered.

  "Why do we still have this wizard?" asked Percy. "He's no use to us unless he can cast some kind of spell."

  "Let's give them the female," said Cuthbert. "Maybe they will trade our release for her."

  "Try it zombie, and you will be looking for a metal head to match your leg," said Emerald, suddenly fierce.

  "Stop your bickering," shouted Dreth. "Let me think." He turned to look at the guard he had thrown to one side before. Reaching down, he picked the Orc up by the collar with one hand and slapped it around the face until it woke up. "How do we get out of here?" he hissed.

  There was a noise of water hitting carpet. Dreth looked down and made a face. "Oh come on!"

  The Orc blubbered. "P... please mister, I just started last week, I knows nothin' I does."

  "Then you're no use to me," said Dreth. He made a movement. There was a noise and the Orc shuddered in pain, but only briefly.

  Dreth withdrew his hand from the guard's chest with a sucking sound. He let go of the body and took a bite out of the heart before looking at the rest of the crew.

  "I'm really pissed off now," he declared, waving the dripping organ in his fist. "We come all the way here for what? Nothing."

  "You got an Orc heart," pointed out Percy.

  "This?" Dreth tossed the thing to one side. It fell the floor with a dull splat. "Tastes horrible. Orcs always do. Now. I think it's time to focus people. Our beloved Manager said we can find the treasure in The Pit, wherever that is. The one place it probably is not is in this castle. So, suggestions?"

  "Everyone knows castles have secret tunnels," said Cuthbert. "We just have to find one."

  "Right," Dreth snapped his fingers. "Zombies, get on it. Try pulling the books."

  "There may be a book that can help us," said Redthorne.

  "Fine, check out the books," said Dreth.

  The zombies started searching the library noisily. Dreth went over to the desk and picked out a cigar from the box. Had he ever smoked when he was alive? He really couldn't remember. He tucked the smoke in a pocket thoughtfully. Next to the box was a crystal ball on a stand. As he looked at it, there was a flicker of movement. He stopped and looked closer.

  The ball was full of mist, as was traditional. As he gazed into its depths, the picture cleared, to show a house surrounded by fields, viewed from above, as if from a bird. As he watched, the view moved closer, zooming down over the roof and slowing, to show a yard full of chickens. A figure was feeding them, a young elf maid, with long flowing golden hair, dressed in a simple yet fetching dress.

  The elf was muttering to herself as she threw grain to the animals. Suddenly she looked around, as if startled by something, and appeared to gaze straight at Dreth, her piercing eyes boring straight into his.

  The image disappeared with a dull flash of light as Percy shouted. Dreth looked up, annoyed for some reason at the interruption.

  "Woohoo! Just call me secret passage finder!" The zombie attempted to do a little jig, but ended up tripping over his own metal leg and landing on the floor with a crash.

  With a last puzzled glance at the crystal ball, Dreth walked over the zombie. He stepped over the recumbent undead, who was writhing about like an upturned beetle, and peered into the passageway that had been hidden behind the book-case. Steep stairs led down. "Well done," he said. "Let's go."

  Redthorne moved over to the cloak the Dungeon Master had left behind, and picked it up, peering at it intently.

  "Are you coming or not?" Asked Dreth.

  "This robe has a powerful aura," replied the wizard. "It may be more than it looks."

  Dreth strode over and held the garment up to the light. "Looks normal to me."

  "Yes, well, you're not a wizard are you? Trust me, this is a magical robe."

  Dreth nodded and stuffed the Master's robe into his bag. "As you say. However, for now let's get out of here, before they break in the door."

  As if to emphasize his point there was a loud crash as the guards finally got themselves sorted out into a battering team.

  They got out, Dreth closed the passage door once he was through, leaving the empty library behind them.

  ~ * ~

  The Golem trod steadily forward,
red eyes piercing the inky blackness of the water without effort. Some kind of strange underwater crab detected its approach a moment too late, and was crushed underfoot. The Golem didn't notice. It did notice a yellow glow pop into life ahead and to one side of it though.

  The automaton stopped as the Master's scowling face appeared in the picture. "Where are you now?" he asked, his voice distorted by the water.

  "In the Black Lake. Someone said Dreth took a boat..."

  "Idiot! You were tricked! Dreth and seemingly half the dungeon are in the castle! Get back here at once and deal with them!"

  If the Golem were alive it would have sighed.

  "And hurry! They're in the library. There are books in there that I don't want him finding."

  "Yes Master." The Golem started to turn, and then paused. A spark of curiosity passed through the silicon brain. "Why aren't you wearing anything?"

  The Dungeon Master looked down. "Cursed teleport spell!" He looked up again. "You! Get moving!" The image disappeared with a red flash.

  The Golem turned and started running back the way it had come, stirring up the bottom and leaving a cloud of mud in its wake.

  ~ * ~

  "How long do we have to wait here?" complained Percy.

  "Yes, this light is playing havoc with my skin," said Cuthbert, peeling a strip off his face to emphasize the point.

  "It won't be too long now," said Dreth from his position on the brow of the dune.

  "I don't understand why we're waiting at all," said Emerald. "Surely the longer we stay in one place, the more chance we have of being found."

  "Exactly," replied Dreth, his gaze never leaving the horizon.

  Emerald gave up and went to join the wizard, who was resting on a mat and holding the sleeping baby. "Have you thought of a way to get rid of the Spite yet?" she asked.

  Redthorne shook his head. "They are hard to kill." He sighed. "Dreth could probably skewer it with his sword, he's fast and powerful enough, if we worked together, but he insists on waiting here and staring off into the distance."

  "What's he up to?" she asked, sitting down next to the mage. "We must have been here nearly a full day."

  The wizard shrugged. "I suspect he has a plan. Whatever else he is, Dreth isn't stupid. At least I'm well rested now."

  Sprat played with the dark sand as he listened to the others talk. He didn't understand what was going on, but if Uncle Dreth said they needed to wait, then they needed to wait. Daddy had always said that Dreth was some kind of very powerful zombie, and so should be respected, or at least feared, which was the same thing really.

  The little undead looked up. Dreth was motioning to him. "Come here Spit, I've a task for you."

  Sprat frowned at the mangling of his name, but obeyed, plodding unsteadily over to Uncle, who gripped his shoulder hard enough to crack bone.

  Kneeling down Dreth looked Sprat in the eye, and held the black marble up between two thin fingers. "I want you to do something for me. It's very important you do exactly as I say. Do you understand?"

  Sprat didn't, but nodded anyway.

  "Good. Now, look over there. What do you see?"

  The undead child followed the direction that Dreth was indicating, and saw a large figure, distant, but approaching fast.

  "That's that nasty stone man!" he said.

  "Sshhh!" said Dreth, putting a finger to his dry lips. "This can be our secret, okay? If you do as I ask, I will give you all the arms in my bag."

  Sprat grinned and nodded, he loved arms!

  "Very well. All you have to do is go to the Gol... er, big stone man, and touch him with this marble. Do you understand? Very well. Go on, there's a good zombie."

  Sprat smiled, took the marble, and trotted off towards the advancing Golem.

  ~ * ~

  "Be ready to move," called Dreth over his shoulder.

  "Finally!" said Cuthbert, throwing another piece of skin to the floor. He looked around. "Hey! Where's Sprat?"

  "I sent him on a small errand," said Dreth.

  "What? What errand? What do you mean?" Cuthbert dragged himself up beside Dreth and looked over the black sands, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. "Hey! Where's he going? You've sent him to his doom! Do you know how long he took to build? How many precious hours and adventurer parts went into him? You monster!"

  Dreth bowed slightly. "Why, thank you."

  "I will not stand by and let my son be squashed by a walking brick! I'll save you Sprat!" Cuthbert lurched after the little zombie.

  "Indeed. Perhaps we should all see how this one turns out." Dreth drew Darkblood and stalked after him.

  Cuthbert didn't look back, but hobbled over the dry earth as quickly as he could. Ahead of him Sprat closed with the Golem, who headed directly for the little zombie.

  "Sprat!" Cuthbert slid down a dune, nearly losing a hand in the process. "Come back!"

  It was too late. Even as he closed, the small and large shapes met. He closed his eyes, waiting for the screams and noise of re-death.

  Nothing happened.

  He opened his eyes again. The two figures were standing face to face, or face to kneecap anyway. A strange black glow surrounded them.

  "Excellent," said Dreth, passing him.

  "What? What's excellent?" He chased after Dreth and the two drew near to the Golem and zombie. Up close Cuthbert could see that Sprat was holding the black marble up, touching the automation. The stone was the source of the strange glow.

  Even as they stared the light dimmed and died, and the two figures moved once more, looking about curiously.

  The Golem's gaze fell upon Cuthbert. "Daddy?" it said. "Why are you so small?" It looked down at Sprat. "Hey! That's me!"

  "What's the meaning of this?" demanded the body of Sprat.

  Dreth leaned over and plucked the black gem from the zombie's grasp. It was no longer black, but clear, as if made from ordinary glass. He bent down to address Sprat, or at least Sprat's body.

  "Now then Golem. Not so high and mighty now are you?" He laughed a low chuckle. Then he stepped forward and tapped the RuneBox that was still attached to the stone monster's side. "And I believe this is mine too."

  "What have you done?" asked Cuthbert, totally bewildered. He looked around as the others caught up.

  Dreth stood up. "This," he held up the marble, "is a device to transfer the consciousness of two bodies. I met a helpful necromancer back in the village who told me all about it. Your son and the Golem are now firmly housed in each other. A far more satisfactory arrangement, I'm sure you will agree."

  "Daddy, I'm scared!" said the Golem, using Sprat's voice.

  "You will not get away with this!" said the Golem from inside Sprat.

  "But I have," said Dreth. He raised Darkblood. "And now, I'll finish you off for good!"

  "Wait!!" Cuthbert leapt forward and held on to Dreth's arm, stopping the swing. "You can't kill my boy!"

  "He's not your boy," Dreth gestured at the large stone shape. "He is!"

  "Even so, I demand you let the body live. Or un-live even."

  Dreth looked at him a moment, and then lowered his sword. "Very well, but the Golem cannot be allowed to roam free. Tie him up and guard him. You lose the kid, and trouble will follow." He sheathed Darkblood and walked away. "Come on. We have a treasure to find."

  ~ * ~

  Garret Murkhard crouched down next to a stunted tree and tried to catch his breath, whilst simultaneously not breathing. Those cursed elves! They were damned good, he had to admit.

  He peered around the trunk nervously. They had managed to keep away from each other on the ship and through the village, but once they left that haven the age old hatred between Drow and Elf surfaced, and the following few hours had been full of a fierce skirmishes between the two groups. The natural advantage of the Drow being on 'home' turf had been neutralized somewhat by the hunting skills of the surface scum, who were at their best in the forest terrain.

  Garret had been separated from the rest
of the Drow in the last encounter, and was now desperately attempting to locate his comrades.

  Moving slowly he crawled out of his hiding place. Keeping behind brush wherever possible.

  There was a sound and a sharp pain in his middle. He looked down to see a white arrow protruding from his waist. Shit! He dived to one side just as another barb whispered past.

  Pushing his way into a nearby bush he pulled at the protruding shaft. The pain nearly made him pass out, and he staggered backwards.

  "Does that hurt?" A silken voice came from behind.

  He whirled round, trying to bring his sword up at the same time, but he was too slow. The grinning elf moved his rapier in a blur.

  Garret felt the cold kiss of metal as the blade sliced open his stomach. He looked down breathlessly, trying in vain to hold his intestines in as they looped out through his fingers.

  His breathing ragged, he looked up into the hard eyes of the enemy. "Please..." he gasped.

  "I will be merciful where you would not be," the hunter said, raising his sword.

  Garret's eyes widened as the weapon flew through the air. For a moment he felt a burning pain, and then the lights went out.

  * * *

  The Pit.

  The rock wall of the cavern loomed above them.

  "Now what?" asked Emerald.

  "I don't know," said Dreth. "I just get the feeling here is where we can get out. There must be a secret door. Percy, try pushing that light colored patch over there."

  Percy moved to comply, grumbling under his breath. He was rewarded by a hiss and an expulsion of green vapor which issued forth from a hidden aperture.

  "Poison gas!" exclaimed Redthorne, moving hastily away. Emerald quickly followed him.

  Percy waved a hand in front of his face, unaffected by the trap. "Great, now I'll smell of poison all day."

  "Should be an improvement then," said Cuthbert. He pointed to a sharp bulge of rock further up the wall. "This looks a likely handle. Do you think it's trapped in some horrible fashion as well?"

  "Only one way to find out," replied Percy cheerfully. He pushed at the stone.

  A panel hidden in the wall slid to one side with a dull grinding sound.

  "Easy!" said Percy, stepping through and looking left and right. "We're back in the tunnels."