They slunk underneath some white willow trees and emerged in a grove filled with huge mounds of earth covered in thick layers of ivy. The mounds weren’t a natural part of the landscape but more like a creation of man. They were spread out in rings of circles.
“I’m guessing this is where the magi live.” Slim held a bright-yellow praying mantis on his hands. “At least, according to him it is.”
“You talk to the bugs?” Brak said.
“Sometimes. For the most part, I can comprehend what they are saying.” Slim’s light eyes widened. “I believe Fogle is in one of those mounds.”
Brak studied the creepy mounds covered in twisted vines and lush greenery. There were flowers among them and many thorns. They had an unsettling look. “I don’t see any way to get in.”
“I don’t either, so we’re just going to have to wait for someone to come out.” Slim gave a nod to Olg and Ugg. “Once we catch one, we’ll have the ogres squeeze the information out of them.”
“Or we’ll just get captured again,” Jubilee said.
“You wanted to come after him.” Brak dismounted and pulled his sword free. “It’s no time for second-guessing now.”
“That’s right. Besides, you’re the son of the Darkslayer.” Slim smiled. “I’m sure you can take them.”
Brak crept toward the mound. The ground trembled. The horses whinnied. In the second row from the front, the top of one mound exploded. Debris and vegetation flew high. Chunks of earth and ivy came down on the forest like rain. A yellow light glowed from the center of the mound that had become a crater. Voices were screaming. Men in raggedy robes floated out of the blasted open gap in a stream of fear and vanished into the forest.
Eyes fixed on the smoking crater, Brak watched a man in green robes shuffle to the top of the destroyed mound. Wisps of energy snaked around his hands and eyes. His appearance was fierce. Impatient.
“Fogle!” Jubilee shouted.
The wizard waved. He ambled down the mound, tearing his feet from the vines, cursing. He held his spell book tight to his chest. He met the party at ground level. “Let’s get the Bish out of here.”
CHAPTER 20
Boon sat on the ground with his head down between his knees. “Bish, my head hurts.”
“That’s because you’ve been dead and now you breathe.” Cass was glowering at Blackie. Acquainted with the strange and eerie as she was, she couldn’t fathom that Boon breathed. Worse yet, it seemed Blackie had something to do with it. The dragon lay on the ground with his snout hidden underneath his wing. “Don’t you try to avoid me.” Cass kicked him. “I’m getting fed up with your tricks.”
“Will you stop talking so loud? I haven’t adjusted to the living world yet.” Boon snorted in some air. “Ah, but it is good to breathe that hot desert air. Woo. But my head splits.”
“You sound like one of those city men that drinks all night and sweats all day with complaint.”
“That’s what I feel like.”
Boon’s blue robes had scorch marks all over them. His many age spots looked burned. The dusty man rocked back and forth.
Cass sighed. “Blackie, why did you come here? And Boon, why do you live? Did you cast some sort of hibernation spell?”
With both hands, Boon rubbed more of the grit from his eyes. He fixed his attention on Cass. A smile crossed his lips. “You have a figure worth dying again for.”
“That’s where your mind wanders after such a long slumber? My body?”
Boon gathered a knee underneath him with a groan. “Pretty much. After all, that is what most men live for.” He teetered where he stood. Spreading out his hands, he steadied himself. “Now, what were you complaining about again?”
“I wasn’t complaining.”
“You’re a woman, aren’t you?”
“I’m a druid, and I’m not a complainer.”
He reached out. “Druid or not, you’ll always be all women to me.”
Cass helped him up. “As much as I hate to ask it, will you please tell me what is going on? Blackie doesn’t speak so well. He tends to stiffen up when he’s in trouble.”
Boon shuffled around in a circle. His white eyebrows lifted up and down. “Ah, it’s starting to come back to me now. Is there another grave near mine?”
She shrugged.
Boon walked, searching for something. Scorch marks from the battle showed on the rocks. “Good. It hasn’t been so long, then.”
“Long for what?”
“I fought an underling here—Master Sidebor. His power was greater than mine, but I drained him enough for Venir to finish him off. It appears that Venir did that.” He faced Cass. Tapping his chest with his fingers, he said, “This body failed. My magic was drained. But I always leave something somewhere. It’s a spell I keep that I like to call the mystic possum. It’s very powerful, and only the dragon’s breath can awaken me. I created it when I was prisoner of the giants. I played many tricks on them. They caught on to it. Bound me up head to toe. Anyway, that’s why Blackie came. I used some of his parts to create the spell. Actually, he helped. He’s not that fond of the giants either, but he serves them.”
Cass cut him off with her hand. “We both serve them now. It’s the only way I can stay with him. We are the guardians of the Mist. No need to recite your history to me.” She gave Blackie an easy kick. “Time to depart.”
“What? No,” Boon objected. “You can’t leave me here. You need to tell me what is going on in this world.”
“We are going back to the Mist and the Under-Bish. I should take you back with us. I know the giants don’t like you. That’s the joy of having you back. For now, I’ll pretend this incident didn’t happen.” She climbed on the dragon’s back and sat on the small saddle she’d created to ride the dragon. “Good-bye, Boon. I hope this next venture among the living serves you better than the last.”
“No, you can at least give me a lift. I can’t just wander the wasteland. I hardly have the strength to walk from here to there. Besides, I need Blackie’s help.”
“He’s already helped you, has he not?”
“I learned something when I fought that underling. I found a weakness to exploit. But I need something.”
Sighing, she said, “What is it that you need?”
“My spell book.”
CHAPTER 21
Fogle kept the spell book locked between his elbow and side in a viselike grip as he ambled out of the Red Clay Forest. He snorted in the dry, hot air of the wasteland. He looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun’s bright light with his hands. He snorted. Ah, I never would have imagined I’d have missed this bone-rotting heat. He cast a glance behind him.
Brak and Jubilee were side by side, fighting their way out of the bushy border of the forest. Brak knelt and kissed the sand.
Jubilee flopped on her back. She practically squealed. “I hope I never wind up in that sweltering bug trap again.” She rubbed gritty dirt on the bug bites that peppered her arms in small red lumps. “Oh, it itches.”
“I told you not to cut through that patch of brush.” Brak’s big face opened into a scary yawn that could swallow a melon whole. “You should have stayed on the horse with me. I warned you.”
“Don’t start. I’m just happy to be out of there, itchy or not.”
Slim, accompanied by the ogre twins, pushed through a webbing of heavy branches with a cheerful smile on his face. “We made it.”
“Yes, it only took us a day longer than it needed to,” Jubilee fired back. “How can it be quicker to get in than get out?” She got up, dusting off her elbows. “We came the same way.”
“Bish happens.” Slim waved his odd, spidery fingers at Fogle. “So where to now, fearless leader?”
He was ready to suggest the City of Three as he stared into the glaring dustbowl that welcomed them like a sand wolf ready to devour a rabbit. He thought of the wizard towers that pierced the sky with their gilded tops of gold and silver. He missed his home with its comforts and luxuries. E
ven though Bish’s rugged terrain had hardened him, Fogle felt the need for a break. But that would be a long time coming. He sensed something—an end for him or his companions. He took a seat in the dust, set the spell book in his lap, and opened it up. He leafed through the pages that were torn. Rage simmered inside his gut. Rane was a fool. Idiot! His nimble fingers unfolded a sheet of mystic parchment cupped in the palm of his hand. He matched up the tear with the torn binding of the book. At least I saved one page.
Everyone gathered around Fogle. They covered him in shadows.
“Well?” Jubilee asked.
“I’ve got some learning to do. See to it that I’m not disturbed,” he said.
“And then what?”
“We shall stay the course. All roads lead to Bone, it seems.”
CHAPTER 22
Venir led the way into the secret tunnel. The pitch black didn’t affect him. It never had. He’d been in the tunnel so many times that he could navigate it with or without the helmet. The tunnel descended in a half-mile straightway. It bottomed out at a large, slab-metal grate. Water rushed through the ground far below.
“There’s a river beneath us,” Hoff said. The royal soldier was the loudest of the five adventurers. His armor, though well maintained, made a rubbing sound with every move he made.
“It either leads to the Everwells, or it’s something else. I’ve never had a need to find out.” Venir peered into the deeper depths below. The faintest throb started in his helm the longer he stared. “Let’s keep moving.”
“That pot’s not starting to burn on your head, now, is it?” said Melegal.
“No.” The feeling subsided. Venir lengthened his stride, strengthened by the homecoming. Whenever he returned from the Outlands, the cool air of the tunnel refreshed him. There were plenty of fond memories of Bone that stirred inside him. The good and bad both gave him a lifting feeling. “You aren’t going to get misty eyed when we enter, are you, Melegal?”
“Not unless it smells worse than it used to.”
“Smells?” Jasper asked.
“Don’t worry, my sweet. You’ll get used to it.”
“I haven’t been in the stone city in over a decade,” Hoff said. “I like the hot winds that skim my chin whiskers. Yet I hope there are some allies still left that I can call upon.”
They ascended to the top plateau of the tunnel. The passage door stood wide open. Nothing stirred within the stable beyond. Not a single country mouse scurried in the hay. Venir nodded at Melegal.
The thief stuck his hand beyond the threshold. On silent feet, he eased inside the stable. With his booted toes, he stirred the hay as he moved deeper inside. The stable door was closed. Rising on his toes, he peeked over the top. His head turned side to side. He faced Venir and the others and shrugged his narrow shoulders.
Venir entered the stable, as did the others. He found Melegal’s gaze on him and said, “Nothing underling here. That doesn’t mean there isn’t something else.”
Melegal adjusted his cap. His fingers checked the mechanisms on his dart launchers. He made his way over to the side of the stable door with the hinges on it. He gave a nod and climbed over it.
The faint scrape of a sliding bolt touched Venir’s ears. He didn’t think the others would have heard it. The stable door swung outward, making a crack no wider than the breadth of a man.
“Hurry,” Melegal ordered in a whisper.
Everyone slipped through the narrow gap.
Melegal closed the gate.
They stood inside the enormous stables. Aged beams still held up the fragile-looking facility. There were many footprints in the ground—many more so than there used to be. In the past, very few people ever entered the barn.
Staring into the rafters, Jasper remarked, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many cobwebs. Such big ones, either. Creepy.”
Melegal looked up. His eyes widened.
Huge webs coated the spaces between the rafters and the huge portal in the roof. Pigeons by the dozens were caught in the webs. Black, bulky creatures with long legs bigger than a dog’s crept through the ancient wood.
Jasper let out a gasp.
“I’ve never seen so many.” Hoff started pulling his sword from its sheath.
Venir clamped his hands over Hoff’s. “No. Everyone move really slowly. Follow me, and keep your eyes down.”
As difficult as it was to pry his own eyes away from the rafters, he managed to lead everyone toward the northern door of the stables. Something banged into one of the stable’s doors. Venir took a glance just as Jasper did the same.
The head of a spider as big as Chongo peeked through the bars of a gate. All eight green eyes were fixed on them. Its spider face banged into the door again.
An old man teetered out of an open stable. He was nothing but shaggy hair and scrawny limbs. “Be quiet, Archibald. You and your children woke me from my—” The hermit froze in his tracks. Looking at Venir, he said in a hushed but loud voice, “You!”
Melegal moved in on the man.
The hermit flipped his hands up. “No alarm. No alarm. I’m pleased,” he said in a scratchy voice. “Delighted.”
The stable rattled again.
“Eh, let’s move out of Archibald’s sight. He gets very jumpy when people pass through.”
Melegal had the fragile man by the elbow. “Be silent.”
“Eh-heh. I knew he’d be back. I knew it.” He peeked past Venir. “Eh, you disposed of the guards.”
Venir nodded.
“There will be more. Zasmah! I’ll get grilled on this. Just come, and come quick.”
With an approving nod from Venir, Melegal let the man go.
The old hermit-like stableman led them inside a stall. “Just keep your voices low.” He pointed above. “Noise attracts. They won’t come after you without an order from the fiends. So are you here to roust them?”
“It depends on how many need rousting,” Venir replied. The hermit had been there as long as he’d known the place. It was astonishing that the man still lived. “What can you tell us?”
With climbing fingers in the air, the old man said, “There are thousands. More keep coming. But they pale in comparison to the royal faction. The royals play along with the game. Everyone suffers. The furnaces below burn the bodies of the dead. Day and night.” He sniffed. “Can you smell it?”
It was the same smell that had lingered outside in the pyres of burning bodies. Now the smell seemed to permeate even the woodwork of the building. “What can we expect in the city?” The helm throbbed. Venir twisted his head around and rose to his feet. “We have company.”
CHAPTER 23
Ebenezer stood on his knees with his jaw hanging toward the ground. Elypsa’s slice had ripped right across his innards. Under ordinary circumstances, he’d be looking at his bowels spilled on the arena floor. Instead, there was a burning sensation. His fingers caressed the chainmail links underneath his sliced-open tunic. Blood dripped from his fingertips. He gave Elypsa a look.
The underling woman with the perfect facial features gave him a victorious nod. The lithe fighter extended her forearm. “I pulled back. I like how you fight.”
Absorbing the exotic perfection of the woman, he received her arm and, with a grunt, allowed her to help him to his feet. Admiring the sinewy features of her dark-skinned arms that fought with the weight of a man behind them, he said, “You are a marvel. Your mercy is noted.”
An underling soldier tossed her a cleaning rag. Elypsa snatched it out of the air. “I only spared you in case I need a sparring partner later. You’re fortunate that my fury didn’t consume me, or else your disembodied head would be licking your bowels right now.”
Holding his bloody stomach, Ebenezer said, “Noted.”
Kuurn appeared at Elypsa’s side. The underling mage’s citrine eyes burned into Ebenezer. “Why spare this fool of a man? His husk is as useless as any other. All the men will die soon enough, anyway.”
With a smile in the co
rner of her mouth and her eyes on Ebenezer, she said, “It’s something only a warrior can appreciate. It’s something that you would not understand, Kuurn.”
With a twist on his thin black lips, Kuurn said, “Nor would I ever care to. I could kill this vermin with a single thought. Come, now. We have a wedding to plan.”
Everyone’s attention turned to the figure in the stands. Master Sinway was on his feet. He rose in the air until the robes hid his feet and grazed the wood benches. “This mild entertainment has been quite enough for me. I have real work to do now.” He glided out of the arena with his entourage of underling soldiers.
Elypsa sheathed her weapons and hooked her arm around Kuurn’s. “Come on, tall and gruesome. We have a wedding to plan.”
Kuurn’s tight lips eased. “Assuredly.”
With a final look back at Ebenezer, Elypsa added, “Same time tomorrow?”
Sweat dripped off his chin when he replied with a nod, “Certainly.” He watched them go. He took a long breath and muttered, “Slat, I hope not.”
CHAPTER 24
Venir skulked in the stable with the others. His eyes narrowed on the old stableman, who teetered out of the shadows toward the underlings. The glaring eyes of the black-haired fiends locked on the man with hatred.
The stableman bowed. “Eh, is there anything I can help you with?”
Layered in dark leathers, the underling with long black hair as fine as corn silk clubbed the old man with a quick back fist. The fragile man spun to the ground, holding his eye and wailing, “Mercy! Mercy!”
A second underling with a knot of hair on his otherwise bald head kicked the old man in the ribs. The small throng of underlings chittered with a sinister glee.
The sound turned Venir’s blood to fire. He was coiled to spring. His knees started to bend upward. He gripped the haft of Brool, his axe, knuckles turning white. The leather wrap creaked. The underlings moved on into the deeper recesses of the barn. The light-footed men moved with a swagger. Their small heads were tilted back in laughter. They had the cocky presence of conquerors.
The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 20
