Angst Box Set 1

by David Pedersen

  “What’s this?” Hector said, standing. “I’ve never seen that one before.”

  “Maybe there are more sealtian,” Tarness suggested.

  “But I would know,” he said pleadingly.

  “Sucks, doesn’t it?” Victoria rapped on his leg with the back of her knuckle.

  When Angst finally finished, his legs were together, his back straight, and Dulgirgraut held high above his head. His mouth dry from the hour long workout, he lowered the great blade, resting it on its tip. The connection, the bond between them was now tangible. Information didn’t flow, but was there for the taking, and the foci had settled into his mind cozily, like a swaddled child. He looked at Faeoris with brightly glowing eyes and saw that her face was tracked with tears. She leaped into his arms and gave him a rib-bruising hug.

  “Those last two sealtian,” she said in a voice hoarse with emotion. “I thought they were lost forever. You did that!”

  “We did it together,” he said, tired and proud

  “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said. “You took lead ten movements ago.”

  “I didn’t even know those last thirty existed,” Hector said, leaving his hiding place.

  Tarness and Victoria followed him, Tori’s expression apprehensive. She frowned, focusing on Angst’s face as though straining to read him.

  “Did it work?” Tarness asked.

  “Yeah,” Angst said, smiling at Faeoris. “It really did.” He was surprised by the Berfemmian’s knowing look. “Wait, you knew?”

  “See?” She pushed him roughly. “You don’t know everything.”

  He looked at Hector, who grinned sheepishly.

  “Fine, you were right,” Angst acknowledged to Hector, gratefully placing a hand on his old mentor’s shoulder.

  “It wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you said that again.” Hector grinned from ear to ear.

  Angst pulled him close and whispered in his ear.

  Hector barked out a laugh. “I guess that will have to do.” He chuckled.

  40

  Azaktrha

  ANduaut and Rose stood by the barrier that kept the ocean out and them in. Creeper was curled up into a ball, covering his eyes with webbed fingers as if crying. The top of his head and his knees were pressed firmly against the clear wall, and his other hand reached high. Something moved beyond the barrier, opposite his hand. It was gone before she could make it out, and her gaze returned to the pathetic figure of her companion.

  He was pathetic, and part of her wanted to laugh, but she also felt a smattering of guilt. She’d been pretty harsh to the little fish-man, and she supposed she should show some gratitude. He’d tried to warn her of danger multiple times. Rose knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shivering arm. She could feel his life, tantalizingly delicious to her touch. Creeper jerked his hand away, refusing to roll over and face her.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He merely shrugged in response.

  “I may have been a little mean,” she said quietly. “But sometimes you just...”

  She let that thought trail off. Experience was teaching her that people didn’t always appreciate being told what they were doing wrong, especially when they were upset. They should’ve.

  “Come on, Creeper,” she said. “You need to help us find a way out. You want to leave, don’t you?”

  He shrugged again.

  She sought ANduaut for help, but he was gone. Why would he leave her now? Typical man.

  “I wish you could speak,” she said forlornly. “These one-way conversations are exhausting.”

  Creeper turned to face her, his face contorted with apparent frustration. He tapped near the blue oval on his forehead then pointed at her.

  “Oh, that,” she said. “It’s just that there seems to be so much going on in my head right now, I hate introducing something else. Hearing you in my mind freaks me out.”

  His large eyes became sad, and he rolled over to sit up with his back against the barrier. He sighed deeply. He was a pouty little thing, and inspiring him out of his malaise already seemed more work than it should’ve been. But, she sat on the ground, crossing her legs. Could she really trust him? After all these days, he hadn’t done anything to harm her, and he only wanted to communicate. She shuddered at the thought of lowering any barriers, afraid to let anyone learn the depth of her hunger, but maybe it was just talking. Maybe just this once.

  “Why did you say Angst?” she asked. She tapped her forehead when he was reticent to reply. “Go on.”

  “I saw him beyond the curse,” he said in her mind. “Your An-gst was out there.”

  “He’s not my Angst,” she said, articulating the name to correct Creeper. Her heart skipped several beats as she reminded herself to be realistic and not hopeful. “How do you know it was Angst?”

  “You speak to me in pictures. I see what you say in my mind,” he tried explaining. “I recognized him.”

  “My words are pictures? How is that even possible?” She scowled. “Do you see how much I want to beat you senseless for being in my mind?”

  His mouth dropped open, revealing rows of teeth, and he covered his face, scrambling to push away from her.

  She grabbed his wrist. “It’s okay. Stop,” she urged. “I won’t hurt you. I guess maybe this mind-talking thing does work.”

  He peeked out from his fingers and saw that it was safe.

  “But, how could Angst be all the way down here? Aren’t we at the bottom of the ocean?” she asked in disbelief. “How could he breathe? Was he using magic?”

  “He was with a mermaid,” Creeper said.

  “Of course he was,” she said, feeling the tiniest trace of hope.

  “She could have kept him alive,” Creeper went on. “Breathed for him.”

  “Gross,” Rose said, dismissing the thought. Her mind was now racing, and she fought back tears. She’d almost lost hope. Was it really possible? Could Dallow, Angst, and the others be here to save her? Angst. He had so much power with the foci. That power could feed her, fill her... She shook her head, struggling to block off the thoughts that kept sneaking in. She looked out beyond the barrier and saw nothing but darkness.

  “Gendel,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “My name is not Creeper,” he said, sounding annoyed. “My name is Gendel.”

  “I...I’ll remember that, Gendel,” Rose said, taken aback. She’d never considered that he had a name, which made her feel a little guilty.

  “I was not always like this,” he went on, looking down at his body in disgust. “I was not always a Creeper, as you call me. I was something else, bigger and stronger than this thing you see.”

  “Uh huh,” she said, her attention still partly on her friends. “So how did this happen to you?”

  “I led my people to this city, to explore the ruins,” he said. “We were attacked by that creature.”

  “I know that creature,” she said. “I hate it, whatever it is. Someone should kill it.”

  “It is the oldest living creature on Ehrde, and it cannot be stopped,” he said with a sigh. “We tried to fight it, but after killing so many, the monster trapped the rest of us in here. We have been here ever since.”

  “When did this happen?” she asked.

  “Long ago. Long, long before you,” he said, and she assumed he meant before she was born.

  “So why do your people keep attacking me?” she asked. She held out her thin arm and wiggled her fingers. “Why did that little bastard eat my hand?”

  Creeper rolled back over, covering his head and shaking violently. His webbed ears folded painfully under his clenched fists.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t have to. “I promise, Gendel.”

  “They have not been attacking you,” he muttered, still facing away. “They have been trying to attack me.”

  “I...but...oh,” she said, her anger growing as everythi
ng came into place. He’d been with her since the beginning, or they thought she’d been with him. Every time they showed up, she’d fought them off. He had been using her to protect himself. She took deep breaths, reminding herself that she’d promised not to harm him. Rose was pretty sure that harming included maiming and killing.

  “I have been alone for so long,” he pleaded. “I have been alone, without my friends, in a body that does not even feel like mine. You would not understand.”

  Gendel’s words squeezed the anger out of her heart like juice from a plum. She’d only just regained control of her body, and it was still changing. The sword didn’t force her to go anywhere, but now her blood was orange, and her hunger for eating life was growing exponentially.

  “I understand, all too well,” she said with a grimace. “What you did isn’t right, but I really do understand.”

  “I am sorry,” he offered, reaching out with a hand.

  She nodded curtly, not fully accepting his apology. “So why are they after you?”

  “They blame me for all of it. For leading them to the city, and getting trapped by the curse,” he said. “And after so many years, they are almost like animals. All they remember is revenge.”

  “Cree...Gendel,” she corrected herself. “You want out of here as badly as we do. Do you know a way?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I cannot by myself.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?” she shouted, pushing herself back up to stand.

  Gendel sighed and tapped his head as a reminder.

  “You really need to grow a pair,” she admonished. “Let’s go, like, now!”

  He smiled, showing rows of teeth. She shivered, but said nothing. He had at least earned the right to smile, even if it was horrifying. Gendel ran down a walkway, his feet slapping the pavement noisily.

  “Come on!” He waved her to follow.

  Nordruaut

  Short puffs of frosty air left his mouth as Guldrich grunted, grappling with all his might. The sweat dripping from his brow fell off in tiny balls of ice. His good arm was blotchy from the freezing temperatures and blustering wind. Even the furs that now covered him were barely enough to shield from the raw cold.

  There was a sloppy, wet sound and his hand dripped with warm liquid. He wrenched his claws out, only breaking one this time, and the Nordruaut dropped to the ground. The body twitched in its final struggle for life. He rolled the giant over and jerked the knife wedged between his ribs free. After wiping fur and blood off the fine blade he’d won from another kill, he returned it to its sheath. The Nordruaut made fine weapons, but who in their right mind wore armor made from animal skins and fur?

  He took tall steps over knee-high snow to find a clean patch, free from blood and battle, and used the snow to scrub Nordruaut off his hand and arm. Guldrich stretched his right arm, which had been removed below the elbow. Fresh, exposed muscles now covered the bones that had already grown back. He’d had no idea his own healing would be so powerful, and wondered how many pieces he would have to be diced into before finally dying. The arm was grotesque and useless as anything but a stick, but there it was.

  Would he have to replace the kill marks he’d carved into the gray skin or would they grow back too? Guldrich laughed uncontrollably as he reviewed the three bloody kills sprawled about the snow bank. Why hadn’t these fools killed him when they’d had the chance? They had different rules for times of war than they did for times of peace? It made no sense. They were amongst the most feared creatures in Unsel, and he’d just killed three with one arm. These giants were far weaker than he’d thought, and Fulk’han needed to know.

  But who would he tell? He’d already marked the useless emperor and his cabinet on his list of soon-to-be dead, quickly followed by the magic-wielding bitch who’d sent him to this frozen death. The chill bit at his partially-formed arm, which tingled with a painful numbness, as though it had fallen asleep and couldn’t be woken. One good thing about that silly fur armor—it was warm.

  Guldrich made his way back to the dead Nordruauts and tugged fur off them until he found usable pieces. He searched their still-warm bodies for food, but they carried more bladders of mead or ale than anything substantial, as if hunting him had only been supposed to last a day. The killing was a distraction, and he needed to focus on making the long trek back to Fulk’han. He had no clue how far away home was, and laughed to himself again at the realization that he barely understood why he was here.

  That wild bitch, that stranger, had magicked him hundreds of miles north into enemy territory. She’d said he would find a champion. They needed a champion or there would be no Fulk’han empire. Instead, he’d found nothing but a Nordruaut child with an axe that froze his arm off. He should cut her arm off to see how she liked healing through it. This thought quickly passed as he pocketed dry jerky and frozen bread. A snack to the giant, it was enough for two meals.

  “South,” he grunted to the bodies. “Tell your friends I’m headed south, and I’m leaving a trail of corpses behind until they give up their hunt.”

  41

  Angoria

  The next morning, Angst and his friends stood before Faeoris. They waited on the dais where she and Angst had performed the sealtian, where Angst had finally made the bond with Dulgirgraut work. He’d been right about one thing: this foci communicated very differently than Chryslaenor. There was no excited flood of information like a young teenager brimming with stories. This was more like a wise old politician who told you what you needed, but only when you needed it. The sword had strengths that he would need time to research and understand. It seemed especially adept at healing, and imbued Angst with even more knowledge, but not enough to replace Dallow’s eyes.

  Victoria coughed impatiently, and to no avail. Faeoris looked up into the clear sky, her eyes trailing three Berfemmian darting beneath clouds, diving at each other like hawks fighting over territory. Dallow’s head bobbed and weaved as they flew until he winced. Angst jerked his gaze upward at a distant crashing sound, and one of the bodies fell like rain. Faeoris scoffed, her wings appeared, and she launched into the air, reaching the downed Berfemmian before she ended up becoming a puddle. Faeoris returned to the platform, unceremoniously dumping the unconscious warrior to the hard ground before continuing her watch.

  “You have provided us with a new tool,” she said gratefully to Angst.

  “I’m not sure falling to your death is a good thing,” he said warily.

  “Don’t you see?” she asked excitedly. “Aerial combat!”

  “Great,” Hector said dryly, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “That isn’t all,” Victoria said, raising a finger. “You also now have freedom.”

  “I...we...” Faeoris stuttered as though she’d missed this, and when she spoke again, her tone was defensive. “We have left Angoria. We do every year.”

  “Only to mate,” Angst said. “Now you can visit me whenever you want.”

  Faeoris smiled, while Hector and Victoria sighed deeply.

  “Was it wise to tell them?” Hector whispered.

  “She isn’t stupid, just distracted,” Victoria replied in a hushed tone. “She would’ve figured it out, and it benefits us to point it out now.”

  “It does benefit you,” Faeoris said, peering cautiously at Hector.

  “My apologies.” Hector bowed politely. “Your hearing is as good as mine.”

  “Probably better,” Faeoris said sternly.

  They continued waiting politely.

  “These formalities are killing me, and taking forever,” Angst said, stepping forward and placing a hand on hers. “I need to get into that hole.”

  “You said we couldn’t,” Faeoris replied, her brow furrowed.

  “What?” Victoria gasped.

  Angst’s breath caught in his chest; he was at a total loss for words. Had she really made a joke that crass? Wasn’t that his job?

  Faeoris burst out laughing, pointing at Angst with a long finger. “Your
face,” she said between gasps. The Berfemmian looked at each of his friends. “I don’t suppose he’s often without words.”

  “I may just like her after all,” Victoria said with a broad grin aimed directly at Angst. “She’s much better than the mermaid.”

  His ears and cheeks warmed at his friends’ laughter, and he could feel all eyes on him. Faeoris’s face had darkened, and she looked ready to pose a question when there was another crash high above. A colorful plume of light wings spread behind her as she launched upward. She returned with two limp Berfemmian, one in each arm, and dropped them beside the third.

  “Are they dead?” Tarness asked.

  “No,” Faeoris grunted. “But it would serve them right.”

  “Why not practice lower to the ground, maybe by the beach?” Hector asked, his nose twitching anxiously. “A few bruises would probably teach them faster than dying.”

  “True.” She nodded. “But not the beach. Too close to the ocean.”

  “You can’t swim?” Angst taunted.

  “I can do anything,” she replied with a raised eyebrow. “If a Berfemmian were to become unconscious and land in the ocean, they would be eaten by the monsters.”

  “You mean that green monster thing that destroyed our ship?” Angst asked.

  “I speak of the mermaids,” she said. “That creature doesn’t come near the beach. He stays by that hole.”

  “Not all mermaids are monsters,” Angst muttered.

  “Yes, yes, they are,” Faeoris said firmly. “They are the illusion of humans who lure men and women into their trap before devouring them.”

  “They sound terrible,” Victoria chided.

  “They’re like the pretty feasting plants that eat small bugs,” she continued. “Or the butterflies of Cayman Expanse, beautiful until they swarm and spew toxic acid over your entire—”