No one said a word, but there were several looks and nods of assent.
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s take it to these fiends and take our city back.” Venir picked up Brool and buckled on Helm. “Fight or die.”
One way or another, fiends, here I come. Fight or die.
CHAPTER 43 (Epilogue)
Pall the Blood Ranger had walked everywhere all of his life. But moving within the morally devastating maze of the Mist, he felt as though he’d walked ten lifetimes. Stalwart and strong, he surged ahead, dragging one body behind him and the other on his shoulder. Both Georgio and Lefty were wrapped up in the balfrog’s flesh. The monstrous beast had killed them both, suffocating them inside its bowels as they tried to fight their way out. Pall had spent little time with the two dead men, but he’d liked them. They were young and brave.
He marched over the dusty ground, barely able to see his hand in front of his face. He didn’t need his eyes. He needed his nose, ears, and superior instincts. He’d been inside the Mist more than once during the centuries he’d been alive. It was a place where time and space were contorted. It hid one world from another. It was sanctuary to some and death to others.
He came to a stop with his toes hanging over the lip of a ravine, where the wind howled beneath his feet. Beyond the whistles came a faint gurgle of a liquid that burbled. He climbed into the canyon, stirring the shale-like rock beneath his feet in a descent that seemed to take hours.
“Ho-ho! I’m glad this is my final trek into this place.”
His husky body maneuvered to the bottom of the ravine and into a garden spot illuminated by the cotton mist above. Vibrant life surrounded him. Tall trees kissed the clouds. Lush bushes and vegetation surrounded him. He let out a sigh.
“I’m not sure why I left the last time, but I guess I still had work to do. Perhaps it’s done now.”
He pushed through the reeds, coming to a stop at a creek bed. Kneeling, he scooped up some water and drank. Then he sat for hours, maybe days, taking in the view. The ground lived, but nothing else. Rocks bigger than men were covered in a rich, brick-red moss. Fruit so bright in color that it seemed to glow hung from the trees. It was comfort. Peace. He patted the two bodies that were wrapped up in balfrog skin.
“I guess it’s time, then.”
He scooped both bodies up in his powerful arms then walked over to a milky-green pond of foamy water and waded in. Neck deep, he stopped. One by one he peeled the layers of balfrog flesh away from the young men. Their bodies were intact. He faced a willow-like tree that lorded over the pond with branches like arms. With watery eyes and a nod, he said, “You boys better do right by me. Bish, you aren’t even dwarves, but I like you.” He said to the tree, “Whatever I have left in me, I offer to them. Take me for them.”
The waters bubbled like a boiling pot. Pall let the bodies go. They floated on the top for a moment then sank in a burble. Inch by inch, Pall’s body hardened, going from flesh to stone with his eyes frozen on the Mist. The willow’s branches came to life. Two great, leafy arms lifted Georgio and Lefty from the waters and set their dripping figures on the bank. They spasmed and started coughing.
***
Lefty’s eyes popped open. He beheld a shambling tree plucking a stone shaped like a man from the murky green waters and setting it gently in the garden alongside many others. Lefty spit the pea-soup-like water from his mouth and caught a glimpse of Georgio, covered in murk and staring back at him.
Looking around while blinking the sludge from his eyes, Georgio said, “Where in Bish are we?”
Lefty shrugged. “I don’t know, but it looks nice.” He watched the tree settle back into the waters. It moved no more. There was a feeling of sadness within him as though he’d lost something dear. Finally, he asked his friend, “How are you feeling?”
“Hungry.”
BOOK 8: SLAUGHTER IN THE STREETS
CHAPTER 1
A black dragon circled over the Black Columns. Lowering, it vanished behind the pinnacle it circled.
Chongo’s left head bayed. Kam’s hand fastened around the dog’s harness. Her heart raced. Her daughter, Erin, slept slumped over her shoulder. The dwarven army nestled in the Black Columns stirred. Ballista triggers mounted in the rocks clicked back. Chain armor rustled, and leather squeaked beneath it. The hard eyes of the dwarves were fixed on the sky. Every calloused hand was filled with a piece of steel or iron. “It can’t be, can it?” Kam said, not realizing she was talking to herself.
Suddenly, a cry went up from the dwarves. The dragon emerged in the channel between the great rocks, gliding through like a big bat. It bore down on Kam and Chongo, yellow eyes drilling holes right through them. Its wings bent, slowing its speed, and it landed softly twenty yards away on all four feet.
Chongo’s paws clawed at the ground. He huffed and groaned. Kam tugged on the harness. “Easy.”
The dwarves, carrying spears with points that could pierce a fly’s eyes, surrounded the dragon. The dragon let out a gust of hot air that stirred hair on the nearest beards. Overhead, Mood called out, “Dwarves, stay your weapons. The dragon is a friend.”
Kam tore her eyes away from the yawning maw of the dragon. Mood traversed the rocky ledges with familiar company. “Boon.”
The elderly bald wizard gave her a wave and a wink. He shuffled down to ground level and gave her a long, warm embrace. “You feel as ample as ever, handsome Kam.” He held her fast for another long moment. “Yes, ample. Did I ever tell you about my wife?”
Breaking off the hug, Kam said with wide eyes, “No. Aren’t you dead? I’m pretty sure I remember burying you in the dust.”
“Heh-heh-heh,” Boon laughed with an ornery flicker in his eyes. “I’ll not die so long as I have moments like this to live for.” He patted her waist with his hands. “It’s good to see you, Kam.” He patted Erin’s back. “And this little one too.” Chongo licked his face with a slobbering tongue. “Blecht!”
“Was that worth living for too?” Kam laughed.
Wiping his face on the sleeve of his robe, Boon said, “Not so much.”
The dwarves quailed at the sight of the dragon, Blackie. Three figures were climbing down from the black dragon’s saddle—two smallish women and a huge man that towered over the dwarves.
Kam’s eyes became misty. “Brak!” She handed Erin to Boon and ran to Brak. Then swallowed up Brak in her arms the best she could. She hugged his rock-solid body with all of her might. “I’ve missed you.”
Brak awkwardly petted her head. “I, uh, missed you too.”
“Good Lords, Brak,” Jubilee said, “do you always have to be so strange?”
Wiping her tears, Kam said, “Jubilee!” She croaked out a wet laugh and hugged her. “Missed you too. I… I’m so glad to see all of you.” Her throat tightened. All the faces of so many of her friends came back in a haunting way. She was scared to ask what they knew. She hadn’t seen any of them since before they battled Scorch. “Is this all of you?”
“No,” Jubilee said matter-of-factly.
“Are you going to tell me who else I could be expecting?”
“There’s just this one dragon and its girlfriend, creepy druid lady, Cass…”
Kam’s eyes fell on Cass, who was standing among the sullen-eyed dwarves, toying with their beards. The albino woman appeared to have skin as soft as rose petals and hair as white as cotton. Her gestures were grace and laughter. Fogle had spoken little about her, but it was clear the druid was a temptress and heartbreaker.
“I’m strange and you’re ornery,” Brak said to Jubilee. “Kam, Fogle is with us, him and a healer called Slim and a woman, Jarla.”
Kam’s blood froze. The encounter she’d had with Jarla in the Magi Roost was unforgettable. She searched Brak’s face. He looked away. “Tell me more.”
“I’ll tell you more. Jarla is the nastiest—murmph!”
Brak clamped his hand over her small mouth. “It’s a long story, but we are all well. Jarla, uh, rid
es with us…sometimes.”
Jubilee kicked Brak in the shin and broke free. “‘Jarla rides us’ is what you really meant to say! She’s nothing but a sword-swinging harlot with a heart of steel.”
Cass sauntered over. “Did I hear someone mention my name?” She extended her hand to Kam. Her brow perched when Kam offered her stump. “Oh my, it’s a good thing you have other notable assets.” She shook the stump. “I’m Cass.”
“Kam.”
“I have to say, Venir and Fogle certainly keep good company with fair women. It’s nice to meet you.”
“So, Fogle is well?” Kam asked Brak.
“I imagine he and Jarla are riding things out, awaiting our return,” Cass interjected with a smirk. She sauntered away to Chongo.
Rubbing the goose bumps on her arms, Kam said, “She gives me willow bumps.”
“Yes, she’s spooky.” Jubilee kneeled down and relaced her boots. “Fogle’s fine.”
Brak’s head moved on a slow swivel. “I see Chongo, but I don’t see Father.” He looked down at Kam. “I dreamed about him.”
“Don’t worry about Venir, Brak. He’s right where he wants to be.”
“He’s in Bone, isn’t he?”
She nodded. “At least that’s where he is supposed to be.”
“I want to go back to Bone,” Jubilee added. “They have the best food there.”
Brak grinned and patted his stomach. “Indeed. There is that one place that makes the most delightful biscuits. Georgio and I would stuff our gullets all of the time. I bet he’s in there with Venir, isn’t he?”
Tears streamed out of Kam’s eyes and dripped down her chin.
Catching her by the elbows, Brak said, “What happened, Kam?”
“Georgio and Lefty are dead.”
CHAPTER 2
Sitting on a blanket, Fogle slipped his sandals on. He licked the salty sweat from his lip. His heart thumped so loud he could hear it. Jarla buttoned her leather vest over her firm breasts. She bent over and slid her chain-mail miniskirt over her long, athletic legs. She took her time. Fogle’s mouth watered.
I’ve just spent hours romping her to the point of exhaustion, and I still want her.
Jarla gave him a long, lasting, seductive look, strapped on her sword, and vanished into the trees in the forest.
Fogle swallowed. He wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten into Jarla, but he liked it. If I wasn’t a man before, I’m a man now. Bone, that was great! He fell onto his back with a smile from ear to ear. Though, I did feel like my chest was going to explode a couple of times. I’m glad it didn’t. He fanned his face.
The forest was so hot the leaves seemed to sweat. The night critters chirped and scurried, making an odd harmony in the background. He lay there for long minutes. The sweat dried. His body cooled. He rolled over on his elbow, reached for the waterskin, and drank. “Ah!”
After draining down several gulps, he donned his robes and stood on shaky legs.
The black witch made my knees weak. I wobble. He fell on his backside and laughed. He wasn’t sure what overcame him. He was giddy. He peered up through the leaves that half hid the moons hanging in the sky. He had fully expected Cass and Blackie to show up by now. Perhaps that was the thrill of it. Getting caught. Cass had hurt him. I won’t ever let her do that to me again.
He rolled up to a knee and found himself face to face with Slim’s bony knees. “Gah! Don’t do that again. Those pale legs of yours are scary.”
With a cheery voice and a warm smile, Slim said, “They aren’t quite as sensuous as Jarla’s, are they?”
“I should say not.” Fogle came to his feet. “I suppose you’ve been hanging around.”
Slim bit into a ripe, plum-colored fruit and, with his mouth half full, said, “No, you had your privacy. I just walked up after Jarla rode off. I didn’t hear all of the grunting and moaning until I was wandering back. It sounded like two wounded ogres making babies.” He crunched into the skin of the fruit. “I kept my distance after that.”
“Ha-ha.” Fogle picked up the blanket and began folding it up. His glance followed after Jarla and beyond the leaves that took her. “She rode off, you say?”
“She likes to ride.” Slim shrugged his eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll come back. I think she likes you. Imagine the two of you galloping off into the sunsets. Won’t that be divine?”
“Your jests aren’t amusing.” Fogle set the folded blanket down. “Besides, I think part of what she did might have been out of jealousy, or spite, against Cass.”
“I have a feeling that you don’t mind that one bit. Shame on you, dirty old wizard.”
Fogle gestured with open arms as his head sank into his shoulders. “I couldn’t say no to that. Would you?”
“Probably not. Well, no, of course not. Jarla’s as gorgeous as the lights in the sky. I’ll warn you though, two women cut from a different cloth are both sinking their claws into you.” Slim made a tick sound. “They’ll rip apart you or each other.”
“I hardly think so. I can’t imagine two women fighting over me.”
“You’re a powerful man; they like that. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they tried to kill each other over you.”
“You have a wild imagination.” Fogle took another drink from the waterskin and offered it to Slim. Slim took it.
“Just try to stay focused.” Slim’s Adam’s apple rolled as he gulped the water down. “Do you ever get the feeling after people leave you might not ever see them again?”
“All of the time.” Fogle’s eyes searched the clouds. “I hate waiting.”
***
Jarla returned a few hours later. A dead deer was draped over the back of her saddle. She dismounted and untied the deer. Carrying the beast on her shoulder, she walked over to the campfire where Fogle and Slim sat and dropped the deer. “Anyone hungry?”
Fogle nodded. “I could eat.”
“Good.” She pulled a dagger from her belt and flicked it into the ground. The edge of the blade nicked the sole of Fogle’s sandal. “Start skinning and start cooking.”
“You want me to do it?”
“I brought the dinner. You cook it.” She took Nightmare by the reins and walked away.
Scratching at his beard, Fogle looked at Slim, who said, “I think you’re being domesticated. Don’t worry, I’ll help you skin the deer.”
“I can skin the deer, but I’m not very good at it. It’s not exactly my forte.” Fogle’s lips twisted in a sneer. “I’m not some manservant to do her bidding. I’m a mage. A formidable one. I could turn this entire forest to ashes if I wanted.”
“If you don’t want to cook the beast, then make her do it,” Slim suggested. “Use a spell. Bend her will to yours.”
Fogle squinted. Jarla and Nightmare faded in with the trees and shrubbery. “Eh, I guess I can do it just this once, but not so much for her, for myself and you.”
“I’m flattered.” Slim stood, his knees cracking. “I’ll make a spit. You start skinning.”
Fogle plucked the dagger out of the dirt and eyed the blade. His eyes fell on the deer. With a long sigh, he pushed up his sleeves, rolled the deer over, plunged the dagger in, and opened up the carcass. “Pew.”
Jarla watched Fogle struggle from far away, inwardly laughing to herself.
CHAPTER 3
From a rooftop, Venir overlooked the Royal Roadway, a long thoroughfare paved with cobblestones that stretched from the east gate to the west gate, with a huge intersection in the middle leading north to south. It was ten wagons wide. For the past several days, Venir and Melegal had been in hiding, moving from spot to spot, trying not to get scooped up. It was nightfall now. The breeze had died, but the foul stench of death still hung in the air. He stood with his broad back against a chimney stack. Black smoke from the streets stung his eyes.
“That’s a lot of gallows.” Creed knelt on one knee, peering over the ledge of the building. His red locks were woven in a tress. Corrin stood by hi
s side. His steely eyes were glued to the men hammering nails into the support beams of the gallows. “I’ve never seen so many necks stretched before. There’s hundreds of them.”
The gallows were spread out along both sides of the streets. The ropes holding the broken bodies groaned as the wind picked up. Pyres of burning bodies glowing with a foul fire illuminated the streets. Men’s, women’s, and youngsters’ feet dangled over the cobblestones. One of the gallows was in full swing. A man was hustled up the steps. He shouted muffled pleas through the rope that bound his mouth. The underlings shoved the kicking big fellow up the stairs.
“Good for him,” Corrin said as he shaved a block of wood with a small knife. “Don’t go down without a fight. Screw those black bastards.” One at a time, the prisoners were shoved up the steps until ten living bodies filled the nooses. The underling executioner wore a dark suit of leather armor adorned in small chains. Chittering at the small crowd of underlings howling for blood, the executioner yanked the handle back.
The bodies dropped. Nine of ten necks snapped. Feet danced and twitched on one man. An underling shot him in the heart with his crossbow.
Venir ground his teeth. Creed’s big mitt was white knuckled on his sword grip. Corrin shook his head side to side in a slow motion.
The worst of it wasn’t over. The underlings lined up in a row in front of the gallows. The black soldiers loaded up small crossbows and blow guns and held target practice. The bolts and darts protruded all over the dangling bodies.
Creed spit. “No respect for our dead. I’m going to make those fiends eat it.” He twisted his head in Venir’s direction. “What say you?”
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