I wish I could be there and fight him with you, Fist said. For Hilt and for everyone else he killed.
So do I, Justan agreed.
I don’t have much to tell you about my day, the ogre said. We have just been traveling north towards the Thunder People territory. It is not the best route. The climbs were hard and the weather has been bad. But Mistress Sarine gave Maryanne a message for me to pass along to you. It’s about Vahn.
Really? That was something he hadn’t expected. What did she say?
She has been researching his name, trying to find any records of him from the past, Fist replied. Today she found something. It was in a book on great villains through the ages. Vincent found it actually. He overheard her discussing Vahn and remembered the reference.
Good old Vincent, Justan said, smiling.
The chapter he found it in was actually about Mellinda. Fist noted Justan’s stunned silence. I was surprised too. Evidently while Mellinda was at the height of her power, she had gone on a rampage through the kingdoms, finding anyone or anything with powers and stealing them. Then once word got out that she had driven the Roo people out of their home and raised an army of trolls, the leaders of the different countries panicked, thinking they might be next.
They found the most skilled and talented assassin that they could, a famous man named Vahn who used basilisks to help him in his attacks. Mistress Sarine says the scholar that wrote the book listed him as ‘rumored to be a nightbeast’. The leaders hired him to kill Mellinda, who I guess was then calling herself the Troll Queen.
I wonder what happened there? Justan said.
It’s actually kind of funny, Fist said. The book says that Vahn started by sending basilisks at her. The story says that twenty of them were sent. Sarine isn’t too sure about that number though, because the man that wrote it seemed to think that basilisks could fly and that they roamed in packs of twenty.
Alright, so he sent a ‘lot’ of basilisks, Justan replied. Then what?
She killed them all. None of their disguises worked and she forced them to take whatever shapes she wanted, then ripped their brains out so that they became statues. Maryanne said that Mellinda turned one of them into a big vase and kept flowers in it.
Justan couldn’t help but laugh at that.
Finally, Vahn decided to attack her himself. She captured him and used her magic to break his will. According to the story she kept him around as a toy, showing him off to people and making him change shapes to amuse her.
The visuals that brought in to Justan’s mind had him laughing even harder. That is . . . the best thing I have heard in a long time.
I thought so too, Fist said laughing along with him. But this is also kind of scary. That is the last time Vahn is mentioned. The book went on to tell how Mellinda was destroyed. It got some of those details wrong, though.
So we don’t know what happened to him after that, Justan said. We know she didn’t kill him, but that’s it?
This is why it’s scary, Fist said. The last time he was seen was with her. Then he isn’t heard from for hundreds of years. But this thing in the mountains acts an awful lot like Mellinda. It drew the moonrats to it. What if it really is her up here? What if she sent him?
A chill went up Justan’s back. Is that was Sarine thinks? What about Locksher? Does he think that the evil up there is Mellinda?
He still isn’t sure, Fist said. But he hopes to know soon. He will make it to the Thunder People territory before we do. Wizard Beehn told Sarine that they should be there tomorrow.
Justan let out a slow breath. By then this should be over.
Good luck, Fist said. Please be safe.
You too, Justan said.
Justan opened his eyes. The moon had gone down a long time ago and the stars were starting to fade as the sky lightened with the oncoming dawn. Gwyrtha, did you hear that story?
I hope she made him turn into a poop, Gwyrtha said with a snort. Justan doubled over with laughter. He had to contact Deathclaw and share the story again.
They rode on and, as the sky brightened, Justan found some of the area familiar from the day before. Deathclaw and Jhonate were only a few miles away straight ahead of him. He knew they had to be getting close.
Just a few minutes later, Gwyrtha slowed. Basilisks. Upwind.
Justan’s heart thumped in anticipation. They were heading up a long slope. Vahn was likely on top. Deathclaw was still at least a mile away so he would have to modify his plan slightly. Okay, we have the element of surprise here. We circle around them. We’ll meet up with Deathclaw and Jhonate. Then we can come back and fight him together.
Yes, Gwyrtha agreed. The rogue horse sped back up and headed off of the road preparing to make a circuit around the monsters
Deathclaw, Justan sent. Vahn is just ahead of us. We are heading around him and coming to meet up with y-!
The ground in front of Gwyrtha rose suddenly, becoming a thick wall. She saw it at the last second and tried to go around it, but it happened too fast. The rogue horse crashed into the barrier at full speed.
Justan was launched from her saddle. The world slowed down. He saw each moment with clarity, but was unable to do anything about it. The barrier appeared to be made of stone, but from the thickness of it, had to be made up of two basilisks working together.
Justan watched the barrier split with the force of the impact. He felt a brief moment of shock and pain from Gwyrtha, then silence. As he flipped up over the wall, he saw something that appeared to be part Roo man and part stone behind the wall, bracing up against it. There was a wide smile on the man’s face. Vahn.
Justan tried to stick his legs out and brace for landing, but he couldn’t move fast enough. His legs buckled and his face smacked into the thick grassy hillside. He felt a series of small pops in his neck and continued to tumble through the grass for what seemed like ages, before he came to a stop.
Justan lay there, looking straight up at the sky, dazed as the shock of what just happened rolled over him. He had to get up. He knew he had to move. Vahn could be approaching right now. Any moment, the assassin’s head could appear right over him.
Justan! cried Deathclaw through the bond.
Justan forced himself to roll to his knees. His face was numb. He probably had a broken nose. Also, it was hard to lift his head, but he forced his body to stand.
Vahn was there, just a few yards away, smiling and clapping. He was wearing the same form he had worn on the day he had killed Yntri. “Amazing acrobatics. You could join a dwarf menagerie with those skills!”
Gwyrtha! Justan shouted, but the rogue horse didn’t answer. He reached for his swords. His hand clamped down on Peace.
The pain and shock left him, sucked away by the power of the sword. His mind flickered through the bond, searching for Gwyrtha’s presence. She was alive. Her ribcage was shattered, her right lung punctured, but she lived.
He pawed for the hilt of his right sword, but his hand came up empty. Rage was missing. It must have flown out of his scabbard while he was flipping through the air.
“Looking for this?” Vahn said, bending down and grasping the hilt of the sword. He held it away from his body, carefully raising it into the air. “Awfully heavy, don’t you think?”
“Thank you for picking that up,” Justan said and released the full amount of the sword’s pent up energy, right through the handle.
Vahn’s arm disappeared up to the shoulder, vaporized by the force of the blast. The shockwave threw the nightbeast into the grass, tumbling just as Justan had.
Justan knew that hadn’t killed Vahn. It did give him a little room to breathe, however. He slowed the world even further and quickly sent his thoughts back through the bond to heal Gwyrtha. He worked by instinct, hardly thinking as he forced his magic to seal the hole in Gwyrtha’s lung. He began knitting the broken ribs back together as fast as he was able. She also had a large contusion on her head and a concussion. There was little he could do to ease it before Vahn stood.
The nightbeast was remarkably resilient. He came back to his feet, his arm regrowing in seconds.
Justan headed for his sword.
“Stop!” Vahn commanded. “Or they kill her.”
The two basilisks that had made up the barrier had reformed into monstrous insect-like creatures and stood over the rogue horse with spear-like limbs pointed towards her.
“I don’t like that sword,” Vahn continued. “I say we fight without it.”
“You look shorter,” Justan remarked. He took a moment to probe his own body for injuries. The results weren’t promising. He had a sprained ankle, a few hairline fractures along his ribs, a sprained neck, and a long gash across the bridge of his nose. It was a good thing he had Peace to take his pain away because he probably wouldn’t be able to move much otherwise.
A ripple of anger rolled across the nightbeast’s face, but he played it off with a chuckle. “A minor setback. I was not aware that you could discharge your weapon from the handle.”
Deathclaw! Justan called.
Coming, the raptoid said, but he and Jhonate were still a good distance away.
Justan still had his Jharro bow strapped across his back. He wondered how many arrows Ma’am could put into the nightbeast before he got too close, but one more quick swipe over his shoulder told Justan that his arrows were also scattered across the hillside.
“Just the one sword will do, I think,” said Vahn. He reached out his hand and formed a sword of his own.
The nightbeast was now a good foot shorter than he was, but Justan knew that this wasn’t the kind of battle where size was going to make much of a difference. He pointed Peace at the nightbeast and wondered how he was possibly going to defeat Vahn when Hilt hadn’t been able to.
“Alright, Vahn,” Justan said. He had to keep him talking while he came up with a plan. “I’m down to one sword. You’re down to the size of a twelve-year-old. That should make us about even.”
“You truly are amusing,” Vahn said, not bothering to fake a laugh this time. “Your friend Sir Hilt didn’t find it quite so funny, when I killed him yesterday.”
This time Justan forced a smile. “I think you’re mistaken. Hilt made a full recovery. The elves even reattached his hand. You really should make sure people are dead before you walk away.”
Vahn raised an eyebrow. “I see. So that’s where your other bonded is. You left him back at the grove and he told you about the named warrior’s mortal wound. That’s good. The dragon’s absence makes things easier for me. Besides, I know you’re lying. Elves can’t heal a wound like that.”
“Of course they can. Elven magic has improved quite a lot in the last few centuries,” Justan cocked his head, ignoring the popping sound his neck made. “You would know that if you were around. Where has the Troll Queen been keeping you stashed all these years?”
This time the nightbeast’s laugh was genuine. “I have no idea where you have gotten this information, but it is wildly inaccurate.”
“I wonder what kind of shapes she made you take?” Justan pressed, sensing that something was wrong in his story, but still trying to find the right button to push. “A chair? No that would be too nice for her tastes. A footstool maybe? A chamber pot?”
“Where did you hear that? That’s old information. That’s . . . You’re stalling,” Vahn said in understanding. “You’re stalling while you think up a plan. I shouldn’t be underestimating you. I think it’s time I killed you now.”
Justan? Gwyrtha said, stirring from unconsciousness.
Faster, harder, stronger, Justan suggested.
What? she said, still groggy, but noticing the two basilisks standing over her.
Faster, harder, stronger, he said again.
No, she said. Bigger.
“Come on, then, nightbeast,” Justan said and Vahn sprung at him. Justan met him sword against sword.
Justan observed the combat in slow motion and learned several things about Vahn during those first few attacks. First of all, he was an accomplished swordsman. Vahn’s attacks were quick and precise even though he wasn’t fighting with a real sword. This struck Justan as odd, because sword fighting was an unnecessary skill for a creature like him. His whole body was a weapon.
Second, there was no way that he had beat Hilt through skill alone. Justan had fought against the dual sword master enough times to know that. This meant that Vahn was a cheater. He was going to try something as soon as he decided that Justan could match him.
Third, Justan knew that he had to win soon, because despite Peace’s magic and the blessing magic that the Prophet had used on him earlier, his body was losing its strength. Sooner or later, it would shut down and he would be helpless.
Fourth, Gwyrtha had gotten really big. The rogue horse had expended the majority of her energy, increasing her size until she towered over the basilisks. The creatures showed no fear, though, one of them jumped onto her back while the other stabbed at her belly from below.
Her roar was just the distraction Justan needed, Vahn turned his head slightly to look back at them and Justan kicked out with his foot, knocking the nightbeast’s knee inward. Vahn didn’t fall, but it put him just off balance enough that Justan was able to get Peace under his guard and stab him through the belly.
The moment his blade pierced the nightbeast’s flesh, Justan saw into his mind. Vahn was desperate. He had assassinated hundreds of people without a single mistake, but his last two assassinations in a row had been failures. He had been imprisoned for centuries and this was his first contract since gaining his freedom. That freedom had come with a price, but it had also come with a-.
“NO,” said a voice deep and terrible.
Vahn’s flesh had closed around Peace’s blade. The voice startled Justan so much, that he was unable to react as the nightbeast spun and twisted, tearing the sword from Justan’s hand.
Gwyrtha roared again as one of the basilisks stabbed into her back. She reached back and grabbed it with her teeth, tossing it to the ground and slashing at it with her claws. The second basilisk was slashing at her belly, but she had somehow managed to harden her scales enough that it did little damage.
“Nice trick,” Vahn said, tearing the sword free and throwing it to the ground. He shivered. Having his emotion sucked away had been a disturbing experience. “But you’re powerless, now.”
Justan backed away from the nightbeast, trying to decide what to do. His body’s pains had rushed back in on him. There was no way he could put up much of a fight. He could run, but in his current state, Vahn would catch him easily.
His hands trembling, Justan pulled Ma’am off of his shoulder and pointed her at the nightbeast. “Stay back.”
“Your bow?” Vahn laughed and approached him steadily. “If you were a Roo-Tan warrior, maybe that would be a threat, but I have watched you with it. You can barely get it to speed up an arrow.”
Justan backed up another step, slowing time as far as he could. “You’re wrong.”
Vahn sneered and lunged towards him, leading with his sword. Justan sidestepped the attack and made a lunge of his own. As he did so, he willed Ma’am to drop her bowstring and straighten, forming a spear-like tip.
The Jharro wood penetrated Vahn’s flesh at the top of his torso and split, forming a cage-like network of roots that surrounded the nightbeast’s core. It was right in the place he liked to keep it, just below the base of his neck. This was another thing that Justan had learned when his sword had pierced the beast.
“I have had three weeks to practice with my bow since the last time you saw me,” Justan said.
Vahn’s eyes bulged. His body started to transform, forming weapons.
“Don’t move!” Justan warned. “No matter how fast you think you are, all it will take is a single thought for me to crush your core.”
“Then why don’t you? I killed the elf. I killed your friend.”
“I want to know who sent you,” Justan said. “If it wasn’t Mellinda, then who?”
The nightbeast sneered. “If I tell you, then what? You’ll let me go?”
“If you promise to leave me alone,” Justan lied. Of course there was no way he was letting him go.
Vahn laughed bitterly. “Fine. He might even find it amusing. Switch to spirit sight and I’ll show you.” Vahn lifted his left arm and black spirit magic swirled across the back of his hand, forming a naming rune. It was on the opposite hand from a warrior rune. Vahn had been named at the Dark Bowl. “Do you understand now? You heard his voice earlier.”
Justan swallowed. “The Dark Prophet sent you? How?”
“Your previous information was only partially right. The Troll Queen did ensnare me.” Vahn snarled at the memory. “Made me her toy. When she tired of me, she had one more bit of fun. She commanded me to go and kill her old lover. The Dark Prophet.
“I got close. Far closer than any being in history. As a reward he sealed me away.” He smiled evilly. “Until a few months ago. When Vriil was killed and Mellinda destroyed, he wakened me. You were the first target on his mind.”
“Why?” Justan said. “Why would he send a resource as valuable as you just to kill me?”
“That rune on your chest. He fears it,” Vahn said, then grimaced suddenly. “Ah! Went too far with that one. Ouch, that made him mad. Time to stop playing.”
There was a snapping sound and Justan felt the Jharro wood jerk in his hand. Justan looked down and saw that Vahn had formed a razor sharp beak around the wood. It had snapped shut, biting through the bow. Justan jumped back, narrowly avoiding the piercing lunge of a claw that had grown from the nightbeast’s side.
“You should have killed me right away,” Vahn said. “Now your last trick is used up.”
Justan folded his arms even though it hurt to do so. “Not really. I have one left.”
Vahn’s form rippled. His eyes turned red, his teeth became needles, his skin blackened, and his voice a screech. “How can you be so confident?”
“Because I’m not just a solo fighter,” Justan said. “Base of the neck.”
Vahn’s eyes widened as he tried to move his brain, but the end of Justan’s bow still surrounded it like a cage. Deathclaw’s sword stabbed into Vahn’s body from behind, striking where Justan directed, piercing through the Jharro cage inside him, destroying the nightbeast’s brain.
The Ogre Apprentice Page 43
