Angst Box Set 1

by David Pedersen

  “Hey, you’re doing better than I would,” Angst said encouragingly.

  “Yes, yes, I am.” Dallow smirked. “Please don’t go blind. It would be awful for the rest of us.”

  Everyone else chuckled. Angst was glad Dallow couldn’t see his grimace.

  “Pretend I’m winking,” Dallow whispered.

  “Sure,” Angst said, trying his best to hide the guilt.

  “What next?” Faeoris asked.

  Angst paced, squeezing his hands fretfully. His stomach roiled from stress.

  “What is it?” Tori asked, cattiness all but gone from her voice.

  “It’s too much,” he said irritably. “I need to save Rose, find a way out while saving an entire race of people, and then keep Unsel from being destroyed by lunatic gargoyles and eaten by giant holes. Oh, and time is almost up. How much time do we have left, a week?”

  “A few days,” Dallow said, his voice stiff.

  “That’s what’s bothering me.” He felt dizzy, and his heart was racing. “How do I make a plan for all of that? How do I accomplish that in just a few days?”

  “You don’t,” Tarness said. “We do, just like always. Just tell us what you need.”

  Angst stopped his useless pacing, closed his eyes, and took a deep, calming breath. Tarness and Faeoris towered over Hector, Dallow, and Victoria, as they all faced him, ready to accomplish the impossible. They had more faith in him than he did. It was enough to give him hope.

  “I need to know more about this city,” he said. “How did it get to the bottom of the ocean? What is this curse, and how do we remove it? There have to be books or a library—”

  “On it,” Dallow interrupted. He placed a hand on Hector’s shoulder for guidance.

  “We need books,” Hector said loudly to one of the fish-men, as if yelling and speaking slowly would help. “B-O-O-K-S! All of them!”

  The creature’s eyes went wide and it rushed down a road. Hector led Dallow after him as quickly as they could follow.

  “Let’s try to regroup here in three hours,” Angst called after them.

  “What about me?” Tarness asked.

  “You used to hunt with your dad,” Angst remembered aloud. “Can you and Faeoris try to find Rose’s trail? Maybe she could fly you around for a faster reconnaissance.”

  “Good idea,” Tarness said gratefully.

  Faeoris was already hovering overhead, looking for a place to grip Tarness before reaching under his armpits. “Ugh, you humans need handles,” she said as they flew off.

  “What about us?” Victoria asked, her lips pulled back and her eyes downcast.

  “What Tarness said, just like always,” he replied, an eyebrow raised high. “We’re going to get into trouble.”

  45

  ANduaut leaned against a decrepit pillar that strained to hold up the dusty old building. He cleaned beneath his fingernails with a thin shell broken from the exterior and shuddered at the thought that this would be the cleanest he could get. He was cold, and tired of this. He missed the warm sands of Vex’steppe almost as much as he missed EnDaer. Was this, somehow, punishment for killing his father?

  “Where is she?” the man who called himself Vivek asked from a dark corner of the room.

  ANduaut’s heart skipped in surprise, and he turned to face the tall, ageless man. He bit back defensive words, all too aware of the power his sponsor wielded. “She is tending to her pet.”

  “You’ve done well, saving her.” Vivek smiled as he tapped a long finger to his cheek. “You’ve earned her trust.”

  “Does that mean I can leave?” ANduaut asked.

  “Would you like to leave the same way as EnDaer?” Vivek asked, reaching out to thump ANduaut’s ruby ring with a knuckle.

  ANduaut immediately placed his hands behind his back, remembering how the ring’s destruction had cost EnDaer’s life.

  “What next?” he asked, hastily changing the subject.

  “Bedding her would be wise,” Vivek said. “But I suppose that’s out of the question. Some charm would, at least, be something.”

  “This is a waste of time,” ANduaut said with a frown. “How does this help my people? How does this make me their leader?”

  Vivek grabbed both his shoulders and shook him with surprising strength, ending the brief attack with a sharp slap to his face. ANduaut covered his mouth and stepped back, undecided if he should fight or concede. He never seemed to make the right decision, and paid the price time and time again. He spun the ruby ring around his finger, a leash that kept him alive.

  “You really are a weak-minded fool,” Vivek snapped. “Have you seen that big, glowing stick she carries with her? She killed three times as many of those creatures as you did, and still had the strength to heal you.”

  “Yes,” he said, “she is powerful.”

  “And if that power stood by you, supported you...” Vivek’s voice was impatient. “Would that give you the spine you needed to lead?”

  ANduaut slowly nodded in understanding. “Yes, I believe I could use her.”

  “You need her,” Vivek said smoothly, “far more than she will ever need you.”

  “But why would she want to help me?” he asked.

  “She’s going through a few changes,” Vivek explained. “They will help her bond, just as I did, with the others. She’s alone and scared. Nothing a little love couldn’t fix.”

  “Love?” ANduaut asked, and then his shoulders drooped in despair. “Oh.”

  “You can fake it... What’s that?” Vivek stared off into the distance, his eyes wide with shock. “No!”

  “What is it?” ANduaut asked, grabbing his staff and crouching in preparation.

  “Another?” Vivek proclaimed in surprise. “There was only supposed to be one! Where are these all coming from?”

  “Another what?” ANduaut said in frustration. “You aren’t making any sense.”

  “Another foci!” Vivek placed a hand behind ANduaut’s back. “It’s too soon. Stop her from wielding it, before it’s too late!” He pushed the confused man out the door.

  “Wait!” Rose called out. “We should let ANduaut know where we’re going.”

  Gendel’s thin shoulders dropped in surrender. The skinny creature paced back and forth, rubbing his oblong head and squinting dark eyes as he pondered. He looked so frustrated that Rose worried he might explode. She considered siphoning a teaspoon of his life so he would calm down, but wasn’t convinced she could make herself stop. Even considering it brought a wave of hunger that made her stomach cramp.

  “Fine, Creep...Gendel,” she said, tapping her temple with an index finger. “Go ahead.”

  “You need to come and see now,” Gendel thought in her mind. “It will help save us.”

  She searched the nearby rooms for the tribesman. ANduaut had been as conversational as her little friend, but there was something to be said about the silent type. Too many of them spoke too much. This one needed no words for her sake. He was so beautiful, and she shivered thinking about that sturdy jaw and chiseled muscles.

  “Please.” Gendel waved her to the door.

  “Fine.” She gave in, picking Chryslaenor up from the floor. “I’m sure he’ll find us. I hope.”

  Gendel led her down a wide stone stairway covered in dimly glowing moss, pausing only briefly to survey the road before exiting the building. Rose was more cautious, still wary from their recent battle. Wouldn’t the creatures be looking for revenge?

  “No,” Gendel answered in her mind. “They are afraid of you and the man. They will not attack again.”

  Rose shook her head irritably, the tinny sound of his high-pitched voice echoing between her ears. It was unnerving, and she yawned, stretching her jaw until she heard a pop. He studied her but remained quiet.

  A glimmer of daylight provided a dramatic view of the vast city. Thin flickering beams reflected off tall shell-covered buildings that stretched higher than the castle in Unsel. They were passing an enormous building, l
ike a rectangular pyramid. This city should’ve held thousands of people. So, what had happened? Had these fish-men killed everyone? That was impossible; they were practically helpless.

  “So why haven’t you tried to eat me?” she asked.

  “You do not look that tasty,” Gendel joked.

  “Ha,” Rose said in surprise. “I’m not, I promise.”

  “I need an ally,” he explained. “Not dinner.”

  “An ally?” she asked. “For what?”

  Gendel stopped and faced her, tilting his head to one side and crossing his arms.

  “You’re trapped in here,” she said.

  He nodded, spun about, and rushed forward.

  “But the rest of your, uh, people,” she prompted. “Why aren’t they allies?”

  “It has been a long time,” his voice sounded upset, even in her head. “They have lost their way.”

  Chryslaenor sparked with noisy dark lightning as they reached a courtyard. In the center stood a monument she recognized all too well. Grime-encrusted and cracked, it was virtually identical to the one that Dulgirgraut and Chryslaenor had rested on.

  “Not another one,” she said with a sigh.

  As she set Chryslaenor on the ground, the hilt seemed reluctant to release her hand, as if covered in cobwebs. Tiny bits of the black lightning bit her hand sharply. “Stop that!” she shouted, stomping on the flat of the blade to force it to the ground. She rubbed her hand, scowling at the sword’s apparent tantrum. “I’ll come back when you behave yourself.”

  Gendel’s dark eyes were large as he watched the altercation, but he said nothing.

  She approached the monument cautiously, as it was in bad shape. The glowing moss had grown into cracks that splintered the marble like lightning painted onto canvas. Hand-sized chunks had given up their long tenure, falling from the stone to litter the ground. She circled until she had a better view, and that was when she saw them.

  Two long-handled golden daggers rested atop the monument. They were identical, both the length of her arm, with three golden edges. The handles were long enough that she could imagine them connecting to form an odd sort of staff. The hilts of both daggers rested on the marble slab while u-shaped marble fixtures held the blades upward. If she’d found this on the surface, she would’ve wondered which constellations the daggers were pointing at. Down here, they were merely aimed at opposite ends of the dome.

  She held her hand over the handle of one. No black lightning or angry bites. Rose already liked this foci better, if that was what it was. She blew dust off, and a chunk of marble broke free opposite her, its crash creating a cloud that made her cough.

  Rose blew at the dust again until she could see Gendel, who nodded encouragingly. He raised his hand to indicate that she should lift a blade. Carefully, as if trying to pet a wild animal, she rested her hand on the hilt.

  “JORMBRINDER: THE EXCEPTION,” echoed in her mind.

  She jerked back, and the dagger followed, stuck to her hand. It dropped to the floor, heavy as an anchor. A golden light surrounded the blade and crept up her arm, burning like fire.

  “Get it off!” she screamed.

  Chryslaenor was bigger, but it wasn’t this heavy. Something was wrong. She tried lifting it, but was only able to drag it several inches. The golden glow burning her arm stopped at her elbow as it met a painful sleeve of black lightning. Her chest heaved as her arm went numb, and she felt the thirst for energy to fight this thing, to get it off.

  The sword. She had to reach Chryslaenor. Jormbrinder became heavier with every movement. Each step was a battle as she reached for the giant sword.

  “What have you done?” she shouted to Gendel.

  “I am sorry!” he cried out in her mind. Gendel ran away as fast as his short legs would move. “It was the only way.”

  “He’ll be the first one I eat.” She grunted as her hand touched Chryslaenor’s hilt. Rose didn’t know if she screamed out loud or just in her head, but holding both blades at once drowned her body in such pain that the screams didn’t last long.

  46

  “So, you’re saying chicken means coward?” Faeoris asked, her tone befuddled. “I would never have guessed he was a coward.”

  “No, I don’t mean it literally,” Tarness said, trying to correct her gently. He didn’t feel like being dropped. “When you were with him, I bet he didn’t kiss you.”

  “He did not,” she said irritably. “He said he couldn’t.”

  “That’s what I mean by chicken,” Tarness said. The joke was completely lost on her. He wished they were back with the other Berfemmian. He was better at being ‘forced’ to mate than he was at flirting.

  “Oh,” Faeoris said, and it sounded like she understood.

  They’d started at the center of the city and circled outward, flying over roving bands of fish creatures and dodging buildings and skyways. There was a lot to take in. Most cities looked the same, but not this one, and he wondered what kind of bars this place had, what kind of music they would play. Tarness loved big cities. In spite of his size, it was easy to get lost. People tended to forget just how enormous he was. He didn’t feel so awkward.

  “Um, is there any way to slow down?” he asked, embarrassed. “I’m having a hard time seeing anything at this speed.”

  “I’m not,” Faeoris said shortly, not slowing. “Do you have a forever-mate, like Angst?”

  “No,” Tarness said, his voice low.

  “Good,” she replied.

  “There is someone,” he continued.

  “Of course there is,” she said with a sigh.

  “I don’t know if it’s going to work, or even if she’s interested,” he went on. “She’s Nordruaut, and I’m obviously not. We only met for a brief time, but there was something. It probably sounds silly.”

  “Yes,” she said tartly, setting him down as she landed. “All you humans and your forever-mates are silly. And what does Angst see in that snooty child, anyway? She’s using him, and he doesn’t even know.”

  “Oh,” Tarness said, suppressing his smile. “That’s why you’re angry.”

  “I’m never angry,” she snapped.

  Tarness tilted his head to one side and looked at her in disbelief.

  “Fine, sometimes I get upset,” she said with a huff. “But he would choose to bed with her and not with me? Am I so ugly to be dismissed like some...some friend?”

  “You’re not ugly,” Tarness said, shaking his head. He sighed. “You should’ve heard Angst go on about you when we walked up the stairs. I’m sure he won’t stop talking about you for months to come.”

  “Really?” she asked hopefully.

  “I probably won’t either,” Tarness said. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “But that woman, how can she be a princess? She’s so tiny, she couldn’t even defend herself in a fight.”

  “Not that she should have to, being a princess and all,” Tarness said, “but she could probably take me in a fight. Maybe even you.”

  “What?” Faeoris asked, mortally offended. “It’s magic, isn’t it? That’s why he’s chosen her as a mate?”

  “She’s not his mate,” Tarness said with a laugh.

  “But, how is she not?” Faeoris asked. “They are obviously connected.”

  “You know how he wouldn’t kiss you? He won’t kiss her, either,” Tarness said. “They don’t cross that line, they just jump on it a lot. Anyway, they’re friends. About as close as friends should get. Too close, if you asked his true mate.”

  “Oh, they are essent,” she said, looking high into the air. “Like my Marisha.”

  “Essent?” Tarness asked.

  “They love each other, like friends and family,” she explained. “Close like mates, but not lovers. Essent.”

  “Yeah,” Tarness agreed with a sigh. “That would be them. They get confused about it sometimes, but definitely not lovers.”

  “Good, because she’s ugly,” Faeoris said sharply, cross
ing her arms. “Don’t you think she’s ugly?”

  “Uhhh,” Tarness said, knowing there wasn’t a right answer. He was so tired of discussing Angst’s love life that this was only tolerable because Faeoris was beautiful and almost naked. She didn’t appear offended by his attention, and he was grateful. “Why did you set us down here?”

  Faeoris knelt, holding her hand over a pair of dusty footprints. Large ones that could’ve been from a fish-man’s webbed feet, and smaller, human-like tracks.

  “You saw that from up there?” Tarness asked. “Wow.”

  They jogged down the path, following the footprints until she placed a hand on his chest, stopping him like a wall. They could hear scuffling and the patter of feet. A fish-man ran up to them, his arms flailing over his head comically. He skidded to a stop, and looked at them both. The creature sported a sky blue oval on his forehead, like a birthmark.

  “I am sorry,” they could hear in their minds as he ran past them.

  “What was that about?” Tarness asked.

  From around the corner, he heard the cry of a woman. Tarness recognized that voice.

  “Rose?” he called out, running as fast as his thick legs would carry him.

  It was farther than he’d thought, and he hoped Faeoris didn’t notice how exhausted he already was. They jogged around a maze of alleyways until they found a square courtyard twenty feet across, surrounded by stone planters and benches. In the center stood a large, familiar monument. A dusty haze surrounded the stone slab, but he couldn’t see anyone else.

  “What?” Faeoris asked. “What is it?”

  “Oh no,” Tarness said, unable to keep the worry from his voice. “Not another one.”

  “You don’t even need me,” Hector said encouragingly. “It’s like you’re not even blind.”

  “You are a terrible liar,” Dallow laughed, gripping his arm tightly for guidance. “We’ll find Rose and this nonsense can end.”