Angst Box Set 1

by David Pedersen

  Angst looked in the snow for the shard, finally finding it underfoot.

  Dallow patted his shoulder, reaching hungrily. “Hurry,” he pleaded.

  Angst placed the memndus piece in his hand.

  Dallow lifted the shard and set it against his temple. He began to hyperventilate and sounded ready to cry.

  “What?” Angst asked. “What is it?”

  “I can see!” Dallow declared.

  3

  Unsel

  Alloria preened and peacocked, stretching and lounging so obnoxiously on the throne that she surely couldn’t have been comfortable. She twirled her too-long honey-brown hair with a ring-laden finger while looking down to admire her raiment. Her large, young breasts billowed over the smallish, tightish black corset dress made fresh for her mourning.

  Our queen, Vars thought, swallowing bile.

  “We need to discuss the pending attack,” he said.

  “Hmm?” she murmured. “Oh, that. Send criers to clear out any towns remaining in the sinkhole’s path and keep our troops close to Unsel. Those holes aren’t the only threat we need to prepare for.”

  “What?” he snapped. With a deep sigh, the old man let his irritation shudder through him. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. It’s just that I expected to go on the offense. Attack the gargoyle creatures.”

  “With what?” she asked. “Losing a hundred men wasn’t enough? You heard what those creatures did in mere minutes. Don’t be foolish. Our soldiers are no use to us dead.”

  “Then what does Your Majesty have in mind?”

  “Angst, of course.” She smiled wickedly.

  “Of course.” Vars rolled his eyes. “If he has survived, what do you expect your daddy issues to do?”

  “My what?” She sat up.

  “Your champion,” he corrected himself.

  “I’m confident my champion is alive and coming to rescue me,” she said, now at the edge of her seat.

  “You?” he asked.

  “Well, and Unsel.” She shrugged. “And maybe his wife.”

  “Speaking of which, do we know where she is?” Vars asked.

  “She’ll be here any minute.” Alloria smiled, sitting up and reaching for something behind her.

  “How could you possibly know that?” He hated having to deal with her. Perhaps he should have chosen death after all.

  “Haven’t you heard?” She blinked rapidly and pursed her lips as a knocking echoed through the chamber. “I’m the queen!”

  “Right, and I’m sure they’ll love how the queen mourns,” he muttered to himself with a final glare at her inappropriate attire. He walked to the grand double doors and opened one wide enough for a young page to peek in. Vars fought the urge to close it on his head.

  “Her Majesty requested the presence of Angst’s wife, Heather, if she were to arrive in Unsel,” the smallish page stated.

  “Of course.” Vars opened the door wider to view the muscular curly-haired soldier, Rook, a fiery redhead, and a distraught middle-aged woman.

  “Please, come this way,” Vars said, turning on his heel then stopping immediately as he caught sight of Alloria.

  The lackadaisical, self-impressed sexpot had somehow transformed into a grieving niece. From nowhere, she’d produced a black lace shawl that covered her shoulders and buttoned below her chest. Her eyes were now tired, and incredibly sad. Her shoulders drooped, slouching heavily with the unwanted weight of Unsel. Her lips pulled back in a thin, forced smile as they approached.

  “Your Majesty.” Heather bowed, as did Rook and the woman. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Alloria sat straighter with noticeable effort, as if gathering her composure to brave a conversation. Her bottom lip trembled slightly. “Thank you. This was a loss to all of us, and...” She looked around for some guidance. “Um, thank you.”

  Heather frowned with concern. “You summoned me, Your Majesty?”

  Alloria stood from the chair and, with great reserve, walked to Heather. “We haven’t formally been introduced. I’m Alloria.” She curtsied politely.

  “Oh, yes, Your Majesty, my husband speaks fondly of you,” Heather said. “I’m Heather, and this is Rook, and my friend, Janda. They’ve been helping me in his absence.” She patted her pregnant belly.

  Alloria nodded in understanding, “How are you? How is your...”

  “We’re fine,” Heather said, rubbing her stomach. “Thank you for asking.”

  “Thank you all for coming.” Alloria sighed. “This may sound a little odd, Heather, but I miss your husband’s counsel. He was so supportive after I lost my parents.”

  “No, that sounds about right,” Heather said dryly.

  “Have you heard anything from Angst?” she asked. “Unsel needs him now more than ever, as I’m sure you do.”

  “I miss him terribly, Your Majesty,” Heather admitted. “We haven’t heard from him, but I have good reason to believe he was successful in acquiring the sword.”

  “Oh.” Alloria smiled, grabbing Heather’s hand and bending slightly at her knees. “That’s the first good news I’ve heard in days. May I ask how you know?”

  “It’s, well, it’s magic-related, Your Highness.” Heather looked sheepishly at Vars, who tsked his disapproval.

  “Our opinions differ considerably, Heather.” Alloria nodded toward Vars, still holding Heather’s hand. “And my opinion matters, so please, feel free.”

  “Angst has a connection to our dog, Scar. The same malady that was affecting Angst when he was dying without a foci affected Scar too,” she continued at Alloria’s nodding. “Scar seemed to die, but something happened and he came back.”

  “That’s wonderful news.” Alloria held her hands together. “Is Scar here?”

  “No.” Heather looked down and took a deep breath. “Scar turns into a, well, a giant monster dog when he needs to. After he came back to life, he became the monster and stayed that way. So, we left him at home.”

  “I...um. Oh.” Alloria appeared dumbfounded. “Is there anything that I, that Unsel can do to help?”

  “At this point, I believe it would be dangerous to bring him to the castle,” Heather said gratefully. “I like to think Scar just needs Angst to return, Your Majesty.”

  “Don’t we all,” Alloria said, walking back to the throne and fwumping into it.

  “The sinkholes?” Rook asked.

  “Speak when spoken to,” Vars snapped.

  Rook whipped his head around, his teeth bared and gaze hot.

  “Vars,” Alloria snapped as if yelling at a pet. “These are friends. I invited them here for help and guidance. We can stand on ceremony later.”

  Vars’s fists shook, but he nodded as he acknowledged her command.

  Alloria covered her mouth and nose with her hand as though hiding and contemplating. After long, worrisome moments, she spoke. “Yes, Lieutenant Rook. The sinkholes are only weeks away from Unsel. Without Angst and his sword, I’m not sure what we can do.”

  “Evacuate the city, Your Majesty,” Rook said without hesitation. “While there’s still time.”

  Vars rustled in his armor. How dare this mere mortal give advice to the queen?

  Alloria held a hand out to calm him. “That’s a good thought, Mr. Rook.” She smiled. “Go on.”

  “Why do you need Angst?” Rook asked.

  “For his magics, of course.” Alloria’s brow furrowed. “I thought that would be obvious.”

  “He’s not the only one in Unsel who wields magic,” Rook said. “There are more than a dozen men and women who came to Unsel’s defense when the monster birds attacked. Under the right leadership, they could defend—”

  “That’s enough!” Vars marched forward and gripped Rook’s shoulder, spinning him about.

  Rook dropped his hand to his sword. “I beat your son in every round we dueled,” he whispered. “Care to have a go, old man?”

  Vars smirked and reached for his own weapon. Heather and Janda slowly made their way to the
door.

  “Stop!” Alloria stood, pointing a finger at both men. “Vars! You go stand over there!”

  “The corner?” Vars asked in disbelief.

  Alloria’s eyes darkened as she held up a hand and wiggled the fingers he no longer had.

  Vars shuddered, his heart wrenching from the humiliation. He glared at Rook as he slowly made his way to the corner by the door.

  “Lieutenant Rook,” Alloria spat, “if you ever, ever, threaten Vars or another soldier of Unsel again, I’ll see you in irons. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Rook stood to attention.

  “Heather, Janda, you weren’t dismissed.” Alloria put her hands on her hips.

  The women looked at each other, stopping mid-stride on their way to the exit.

  “Rook, you were suggesting a mage corps, like the old zyn’ights?” she asked.

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Rook said, sounding amazed.

  “Stop being surprised.” Alloria rolled her eyes. “I’m royalty. I’ve had more than a little education.”

  “Of course.” He nodded appreciatively.

  “Gather them, Rook, while there’s still time,” Alloria commanded.

  “Right away,” Rook said proudly, daring a smile at Janda.

  “What?” Vars said from his corner, furious she would even suggest the idea of a mage corps. How foolish could she be to put them in such danger?

  “Were you talking?” Alloria snapped.

  Vars grumbled to himself and partly turned to face the wall, still keeping one eye on them.

  “Heather,” Alloria said, her voice suddenly warm butter. “I would like you to stay at the castle. Your friend is welcome to join you.”

  “Oh, I was going to stay at—”

  “You are staying here,” Alloria continued. “I want to keep you and your baby safe. And if you find a way to communicate with Angst, I have to tell him how much we need him.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “And I would appreciate your counsel, of course.”

  “Of course.” Heather sighed.

  “You can stay in Victoria’s chambers, as they’re currently unoccupied,” Alloria said.

  “Thank you,” Heather said, sounding as if she’d gagged up the words.

  Alloria nodded warmly, as if she’d given the greatest of gifts. “Rook, please let me know your progress. I expect to hear from you by tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Rook said proudly.

  She nodded to dismiss them.

  Rook bowed low with the others and led them to the door. They slowed as Vars opened it.

  “This isn’t over,” Vars whispered.

  “You’re right,” Rook said coolly.

  4

  “How?” Angst asked, rushing over to Dallow.

  He held out a hand to keep Angst back and stood slowly, his forehead scrunched in concentration and the memndus stone pressed firmly against his temple. He took a step, followed by another, and another until he was walking around the campsite like a rat in a maze. A broad grin crept across Dallow’s face, and Tori began to clap excitedly. He circled the campfire, tripped over a branch, and fell into Tarness’s arms. The stone went flying. Hector caught it before it was lost to the woods.

  “Neat trick,” Hector said, handing it back to Dallow. “How does it work?”

  “When I press it against my temple, it’s like looking into the original memndus at Gressmore,” Dallow answered between excited breaths. “Like looking at a map so I can see the top of everyone’s heads. It’s going to take some practice—”

  “Hmm?” Angst lifted his head and stared off into the woods.

  “What?” Hector said, sniffing the air and looking around.

  “We have company.” Angst remained seated.

  Hector did not, brandishing a short sword as he stood. He tilted his head back as if his nose was squinting for a better view. “Nothing.” He cocked his head to one side and cupped a hand behind his ear. “How can you tell before me?”

  “Really?” Angst’s eyebrows scrunched together.

  “Oh, that.” Hector nodded once at Dulgirgraut before Angst could answer.

  “Have a seat. It’s not that kind of company.” Angst stood, walked to the edge of the campfire heat, and dropped to both knees, resting on his feet.

  “What is Angst doing?” Dallow asked, pulling the memndus stone away from his temple.

  “I have no idea,” Tarness answered.

  “Come on out. It’s okay,” Angst called. He slapped his knees twice, like beckoning a pet.

  The almost-human face of a gamlin popped out of the ground as if peeking out of a lake, making a small ripple of dirt and snow that flattened to leave behind no trace of its arrival. Gamlin were the foot soldiers of the element Earth—much like dragons were for Fire, cavastil birds for Air, and gargoyles for Water. Gamlin seemed to come in the same sizes as dogs, ranging from yip-yip to eating you out of house and home. The smaller ones were sort of cute, like hedgehogs but with rocky quill-like protrusions and humanish faces. Their cuteness was deceiving. They had long bear-claws instead of fingers, sharp teeth, and seemed to be invulnerable. Angst had watched them dive in and out of dragons as easily as the ground. Normally, he would’ve stayed away, but Earth’s final words were, “The remaining gamlin are yours.” He was starting to understand what that meant.

  Angst smiled, holding out a hand.

  The creature’s nose scrunched in concern as it inched forward.

  “You’re not in danger. Not from me anyway,” Angst promised.

  The gamlin reached him, leaning forward to lick his finger.

  “Be careful, Angst,” Victoria called out.

  His new friend looked at Victoria in panic and dove back into the ground. Angst frowned at the princess over his shoulder. She shrugged dismissively but then her eyes suddenly widened and she pointed. Angst faced forward to see four gamlin around him, all within arm’s reach. Three more popped out of the ground. The sixth gamlin bumped into the seventh, who immediately pushed the other, for all the world like a rock-covered toddler.

  “Hey, that’s enough of that,” Angst warned, and they stopped.

  “They’re listening to you,” Victoria said, now directly behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “Should she be there, that close?” Hector worried aloud.

  “Yeah, she’s fine,” Angst replied. He whispered to Victoria, “I think you’re fine.”

  “I’m fine.” Victoria dropped to her knees beside Angst and coaxed the smallest gamlin closer. It crawled forward and sat on her lap. She oohed, which made Angst smile. Victoria reached to touch it, jerking her hands back nervously every time it moved. It was the size of a small cat, and looked up at her with an innocent smile. Victoria touched its cheek with the back of her fingers and it closed its eyes at the affection.

  “I want one!” she declared.

  “Figures,” Hector grunted, sheathing his sword into nothingness and sitting on the fallen log.

  “I don’t think they’re house-trained,” Angst teased.

  Tori petted the gamlin’s back. “They’re too cute, Angst. When they aren’t trying to kill us and— Ouch!” She jerked her hand away, blood covering the tips of her fingers.

  The gamlin looked at her nervously, glanced at Angst, and dove from her knees into the ground, quickly followed by several more.

  “Are you okay?” Angst took her hand and inspected the cut.

  “It stings, but I’ll be all right,” she said, pulling her hand back. “The quills on their backs are like razors.”

  “We should remember that. Why don’t you have Dallow heal—”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “Angst?” Tori nodded for him to look.

  Three gamlin were standing before him. Two held the smallest one captive, and pushed it forward. Without warning, it screamed in a high croaky voice as the two gamlin holding it began plucking quills from its back.

  “No!” Angst com
manded, jumping to his feet. “Stop now!”

  They all stopped, their beady eyes looking at him nervously.

  “What were they doing?” Victoria took his hand to stand.

  “They were punishing him for harming you,” Angst said. “I think they meant to kill him.”

  “Why?” She frowned. “Wait. How do you know that?”

  “I think...I can sense what’s going on. What they want... It’s hard to explain.” He shook his head.

  “You can sense all of them?” Tori touched his cheek. “How many are there?”

  “Seven hundred and eighty-two,” Angst stated. She pulled her hand back. “I think.”

  “You think?” she asked in surprise. “How could you even guess?”

  Angst didn’t have an answer for something he didn’t understand. He returned his attention to the gamlin. “Let him go,” Angst commanded.

  The small one pulled free, smiled at Angst then returned to Victoria’s lap for more attention.

  She smiled and held her hand over its back, trying to figure out how to pet it.

  “Do you control all of them? All seven hundred and eighty-two?” Tarness asked.

  “It’s not exactly about control—” Angst began.

  All of the gamlin sat upright, like deer listening in the woods. They dove into the ground, the smallest licking Victoria’s hand before departing.

  “What is it?” Hector looked around. “Isn’t your sword supposed to glow when we’re in danger?”

  “Are the gamlin attacking?” Dallow asked.

  “Not us,” Angst said calmly. He walked to the others and wielded the giant blade. “I can feel movement in the ground five hundred yards away. Someone’s riding toward us. Maybe soldiers?”

  Everyone readied their weapons.

  Angst grinned wickedly. “I want to try this foci out in a normal battle,” he said excitedly.

  “You have no control over that thing,” Hector admonished.

  “I’ve got this,” Angst assured him, smiling.

  In a blur, he tore off in the direction of the gamlin. Something felt off. He rushed past trees, seeking the fastest path through the woods, and suddenly there it was. With a loud crack, he careened off a large tree, spinning out of control until crashing into another. The tree creaked painfully as it wrenched from the ground and fell onto the road. There was a loud cry in the distance and the crunching of metal followed by abrupt silence. Angst lay still, sprawled in his armor like a turtle on its back.