The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures

by Craig Halloran

  He took a seat on a soggy bed of hay. It was a dingy spot, smelling of rotting straw and manure. Cobwebs and spiders as big as his fist clung to the rafters. He shivered and stuck his nose in his spellbook. After reading a few pages, he closed the book. Muttering a quick incantation, he reconnected with Inky.

  The bird took flight from its perch on a chimney flue. It soared high about the spires, drifting in gentle side-to-side angles. Despite Fogle’s unfamiliarity of the City of Bone, Hoff had given him an ample description of the Kling banner. He also knew that the castle was on the western wall. The bird landed on a top spire. Its eyes scoured the castle tops.

  “Well, foil me,” Fogle said. The banners of the royal houses had been taken down. He should have known better. The underlings did the same thing in the City of Three. The ebony hawk’s eyes followed the soldiers marching through the courtyard. Many still bore the insignias of their house on their chests. “Not it. Move on,” he said. He was looking for the striking image of a golden lion resting behind a red shield crossed in black.

  Inky jetted from one castle spire to another. The bird perched inside a window seal. A sand spider scuttled by.

  Fogle jumped. Goose bumps rose on his arms. “I really hate those things.”

  Inky glided down to a lower turret. Fogle spotted the golden lion crest on a soldier’s shield.

  Got it. Good. Now I just need to find out where Venir is.

  The royal knight, Hoff, had been a wonderful source of information. He explained about the arenas, where the soldiers fought, trained, and held ceremonies. The castles, at least most of them, had domes made from stained glass. Inky took flight and circled until Fogle spotted what he was looking for. The bird landed on a dome of glass and peered inside. The colored glass was difficult to see through.

  Strut around, Inky. I need a clear view.

  The familiar moved from one glass pane to another. There were bird droppings all over. It gave Fogle some comfort. The bird wouldn’t be something that anyone would pay any particular attention to. He rubbed his hands together. “There!”

  The bird stopped over a transparent section. The seats inside the stands were filled to capacity with underlings. Two men painted like savages moved about the arena, but the bird poop obscured part of the view. He caught a glimpse of Venir’s uncanny frame. That’s him!

  Inky jostled. A tremor went through Fogle’s body. The bird’s view violently shifted. Get out of there, Inky! Fogle spotted a sand spider coming right at him. Inky was stuck in webbing. The one approaching spit goo. The ebony hawk’s vision blurred and went black. Blast it! I lost him!

  CHAPTER 4

  Venir set his feet. With small lizards crawling all over him, he met the mother devourer’s charge. The lizard slammed into him full force, driving him to the ground. Its long snout snapped an inch short of Venir’s nose. He wrestled over the floor with the scaly monster. Thrashing back and forth, they barrel-rolled over the floor. The beast was strong in scale and muscle. It twisted in Venir’s arms.

  “Get over here and stab this thing!” Venir roared at Creed. The lizard’s tail coiled around his leg. Its teeth snipped a hunk of skin from his shoulder. “Curse you, scaled devil!” Venir socked it in the neck with his fist. It was like hitting a sack of rice.

  Creed ripped a lizard from his face. The tiny claws burned as they raked across his skin. The little monsters chewed him up like he was in a bath of piranhas. He pulled them off one, two, and three at a time. “Madness!” he cried out. Aside from the underlings, he wasn’t accustomed to fighting strange creatures. The lizards were reckless and unrelenting. Bleeding all over, he surged toward Venir.

  Venir locked his big arms and legs around the devourer. He squeezed with all his might. It wriggled, hissed, and snapped with wild intensity. “Stab this thing! I can’t hold it forever!”

  Covered in a blanket of scales, Creed fought his way over to Venir. He took a knee and aimed. “I don’t see a temple. Where do I strike it?”

  “Just above the earhole.” Venir jutted his chin in the general direction. “Now!”

  Creed’s eyes widened. He jabbed the dagger into the devourer’s skull. It sank hilt deep, and he gave it a fierce twist. Scale and bone made a sickening scrunch sound. Blood oozed from its head. It writhed no more. The devourer’s babies dropped from Venir and Creed’s bodies. Lifeless.

  Venir shoved the dead lizard from his chest, panting, and freed his leg from its tail. Creed kicked the lizards away. The underling handler darted in behind Creed and struck him in the back with its staff. Creed let out a wild cry. He whipped around, striking fast, and tore the underling’s throat out with the dagger. Gurgling in its own blood, it dropped dead. Holding his side, he staggered. Venir caught him. He held the man upright. “Will you live?”

  Creed sucked air through his teeth. “We’ll see.”

  Blood ran down their bodies from small wounds peppering their flesh. Sweat and blood caked their stained hair. Venir faced Altan Rey. “What are you waiting for, traitor? Send another meat sack in for the slaughter.”

  The underlings jeered. The underling soldiers carried the lizard handler’s corpse away to the dugout, and the lizard was dragged into one of the trap floors. The smaller creatures were scooped up and swept away.

  Altan Rey came out of the dugout. “Rest yourself, men, while I consult with the new leadership.”

  Venir and Creed stood tall in the ring. Elypsa came down the stairs, graceful as a swan and deadly as a poisonous spider. She spoke in underling to Altan Rey. “The underling truly is a marvel, isn’t she?” Creed said to Venir.

  “Yes.” Venir’s eyes attached to the sack.

  Master Sinway clutched it like a newborn’s blanket. The sack seemed like a harmless thing, but there was still a sense of the power within. Perhaps, Venir thought, he’d learned to rely on it too much. Now he needed it more than ever. He gave the sack up willingly, but maybe it wasn’t his to possess in the first place. What might have been, might be gone now and forever.

  Elypsa glanced over the men a time or two as she spoke with Altan Rey. Finally, she broke away and resumed her seat between Kuurn and Master Sinway. Ebenezer and Manamus sat on the other side of Master Sinway but not close. Their eyes were filled with intensity.

  Altan Rey lifted his arms, revealing Melegal’s cleverly concealed dart launchers. He approached the warriors but stayed out of reach. “It seems that the underlings would like to see a battle of steel. I’m bringing the racks out. Take what you want. Choose wisely.”

  “Unlike you, we will.” Creed spat on the ground. “You’ll regret this deception, Altan Rey.”

  The mage offered a quick smile. “No, I won’t.” He walked off.

  The underling soldiers carried over the weapon racks. They set one in front of Venir and the other in front of Creed. Creed chose a finely crafted pair of longswords. There weren’t many men alive that could fight with both. Twisting the blades through the air, he grimaced.

  Venir hadn’t fought with anything but Brool in quite some time. Everything he touched was unfamiliar to his hand. He took a battle axe. The edges were notched up, but the blade was hard and keen. It was a toy in his hands compared to Brool. He grabbed a hatchet to match it. Looking at Creed, he shrugged.

  The underlings took the weapon racks away and set them against the arena’s wall. The underling crowd started their rousing chittering. Altan Rey stood to the side of the dugout doorway and waved.

  Men in ragged clothing ambled out. Sacks with eye and mouth holes covered their faces. Most of them were raw boned, and they could barely carry the swords they held. The underlings showed them outside one by one. Their eyes were white as moons as they gazed at Venir and Creed. One of the ragged soldiers tried to run back into the dugout. An underling solider drove a jagged dagger into his gut. The man doubled over with a loud moan before he died.

  Altan clapped his hands. “To the death, gentlemen.” He closed himself inside. “To the death.”

  CH
APTER 5

  Underlings prowled the Under-Bish. Boon, aided by Blackie, dispatched them into the strange lands beyond the Mist. The tiny fiends were little more than rodents scurrying the halls of ziggurat that many giants called home. Driven by a lust for death, they crept into a nursery where a pair of twin baby giants lay in the cradle. The softly snoring infants were bigger than cows. The underling soldiers, curved blades in hand, slew the infants.

  It was hours before the giants caught wind of the murder. Outraged, booming voices shook the hallways. The underlings scurried through the halls, searching for places to hide as the giants hunted them down. Cornered in a kitchen of massive proportions, the underlings were swallowed up in enormous hands.

  A giant man squeezed an underling so hard its eyes popped out. Bones were crushed into fragments. The small knot of underlings died like rats, but the giants were furious. They dressed for war. Gathering by the dozens and armed to the teeth, they marched into the Mist, singing a haunting tune.

  ***

  Georgio rubbed his blurry eyes. A weird howling caught his ears. Barton, the young, disfigured giant that was aiding them, stopped in his tracks, and Georgio bumped into his leg. “What is that noise?”

  Barton spun around. “Giant song.”

  “Awful song is more like it,” Lefty said. He was perched on the giant’s shoulder, holding onto his hair. “We need to get out of here, Barton.”

  “We are close.” Barton trudged along again.

  Georgio rushed after the long-legged giant. The mist was so thick that he could barely see ten feet in front of him. And even though Barton moved slowly, it was still much quicker than the stride of a normal man. Georgio had let Barton carry him for a while, but it was awkward, and Barton’s breath was awful. “Barton, you said that hours ago. Bish! It might as well have been months ago. This is taking forever!”

  “It’s not as long as you think it seems. The Mist is tricky. Don’t believe it.”

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Lefty said.

  Barton twisted his neck toward Lefty. “Don’t call Barton dumb. Barton know the way out. You don’t.”

  Looking down at Georgio, Lefty said, “Well, he does have a point.”

  “I suppose.” Georgio pulled his sword out. “I’d like to give him a point.” He slammed the sword back into the scabbard. The walk was impossibly long, and his legs were aching. He thirsted and his stomach growled. The mist was insufferable. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy to be alive or not. Already, he missed the grove that had more than enough sustenance to fill him.

  “Georgio, when we get back, what is the first thing you want to do?”

  “I’m going to Bone and getting some biscuits. A wheelbarrow full of them.”

  Lefty rolled his eyes. “I know, but aside from that.”

  “Well, I guess it will be fun to get a look at everyone’s faces.” Georgio chuckled. “I bet Nikkel will piss his pants. We should have fun with it.”

  “Yes.” Lefty’s eyes gleamed. “It will be fun to see our old friends again, assuming that they survived. What if the underlings have finally taken over?”

  “Don’t say that. Venir won’t let that happen.”

  “You really think he can stop the underlings all by himself, don’t you?”

  Georgio shrugged. “I don’t see why not. He’s stopped all the ones he’s faced so far.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” The strange howling started up again. “Barton,” Lefty said, “if that’s giants singing, what are they singing about?”

  Barton kept walking.

  “Barton?” Lefty asked again. He tugged on the giant’s earlobe. “Tell us what.”

  In a dark and husky voice, Barton said, “Vengeance.”

  Lefty shot Georgio a curious look then said back to the giant, “Vengeance for what?”

  “I don’t know the answer to everything. Stop bothering me, little rabbit. I walk and all you do is talk. No talk. Just walk.”

  Leaning over Barton’s shoulder, Lefty said, “I guess we’ll find out later.”

  “Yeah, if you mean later as in forever. We’ll be dead then.”

  “Don’t be so glum about it, Georgio. You can’t die.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of.” Yawning, Georgio shuffled up to Barton. He snagged the back of the giant’s shirt and let the disfigured brute tug him along. He’d do anything to see the suns again. The soft glows of the moons. Birds in the sky. Anything that moved or brought some sort of illumination. Most of all, he missed his friends. He wanted to see them all again. Alive. He walked on until he couldn’t walk anymore. “Barton, we need to stop.” His lids were heavy. He fought to keep his eyes open. “We need to sleep.”

  “Sleep is death in the Mist.” Barton turned around, picked Georgio up, and cradled the man in his arms like a child. Georgio gave in. Lefty crawled down onto Georgio’s chest. He sat with his back against Barton’s chest. “Good. Both of you be quiet now. Barton can think.”

  “Don’t fall asleep, Lefty,” Georgio said. “He’s a giant who almost killed us once. We can’t trust him.”

  “I won’t.” Lefty covered his yawn. “You rest now. I’ll rest later. Deal?”

  “Deal.” Georgio fell asleep. Moments later Lefty did as well.

  Barton chuckled.

  CHAPTER 6

  “I’m not going to sully my blade on helpless people,” Creed said to Altan Rey. “This is not entertainment. It’s senseless bloodshed!”

  The underlings booed and hissed. The underling soldiers shoved the shaking men with hoods on their faces toward Venir. One of the ragtag men swung his sword at Venir. Venir clobbered the side of the man’s head with the flat of his battle axe, knocking the man out cold.

  The underlings chortled in their own foul tongue. Venir cocked back his arm and considered launching the hatchet into the crowd. Possibly at Master Sinway. But the underling wouldn’t leave himself so exposed as that. The ragged men gathered among themselves. Their perspiration was filled with fear and desperation. Altogether, they bum-rushed Creed with slavering jaws and fingers clutching.

  “Bone!” Venir grabbed a man by the hood and yanked it off. The man whirled around and took a stab at Venir. Venir parried. In that split second, Venir got a good look in the man’s eyes. There was a deranged yellow glow in them he’d seen before. The vagrant’s jaw was cockeyed. Drool oozed from his mouth. “Creed! They’re induced. Don’t hold back!”

  Creed’s parrying blades took on a life of their own. Sharp tips of steel snaked through his attackers' wild swings. He opened a throat and pierced two hearts. The desperate vagrants kept chopping. The fear in their eyes was gone. He put one down after another.

  Nearby, Venir went to work. The battle axe brought swift mercy, whistling down and splitting a vagrant’s skull. His hatchet hacked deep beneath the meat where the neck met the shoulder. The man crumbled onto the floor. Venir’s arms pumped like machines. Every stroke brought death. The vagrants would fight until the inducers wore off or until they were dead. They fought like crazed wild men.

  “Gah!” Creed cried out. A hard stab from a hooded rogue pierced his thigh. Creed chopped his head off, deflected a blow, and killed another with a stab in the gut.

  Back to back, the towering warriors slew the deranged men. Seconds later, it was over. The underlings cheered as men died at their feet. Venir and Creed sucked for air. The wounds were piling up.

  “This is getting out of hand,” Venir growled. “They’re whittling us down one sliver at a time.”

  “Perhaps we should storm the stands. Make one lasting show of it.” Creed flung the blood from his blades. “I don’t think the armament is going to be with us today. Or at least you. I couldn’t handle it.”

  Venir’s eyes slid over Sinway. “I’m a fine aim with this hatchet.”

  “Perhaps there will be an opening.” Creed groaned. He was holding his side. “Speaking of openings, this one is worse than I realized. That dig the underli
ng took was nasty.”

  “Is it lethal?”

  “Only if I stop breathing.”

  Altan Rey stepped out of the dugout. As the bodies were dragged away in bloody trails, he said, “Little by little, my friends. The more you suffer, the more thrilled the underlings are. But the warm-up is over now. The real fighting shall begin. A challenge has been made to you, Creed. Do you accept?”

  Creed gave Altan Rey a funny look. “I didn’t realize that I had a choice. Who is my opponent? You, I hope.”

  “Nay.” Altan turned. Elypsa moved down through the stands. The citrine-eyed mage, Kuurn, was with her. She hopped into the arena. “Elypsa admires your skill with a blade. She delights in a challenge of steel.”

  Creed looked down at the woman. “I never imagined I’d be fighting a woman so fair. Perhaps she could put on one of those bloody garments. Her figure is distracting along with all of the rest of her. Can we cover her face with one of those hoods? As you can see, I am flesh and blood.”

  Kuurn spread his fingers, palm out, in Venir’s direction. Venir lifted from his feet and slammed into the wall. His head cracked hard against the stones. Stars burst before his eyes. His shoulders sagged. When he lifted his head, Creed and Elypsa were squaring off. Altan Rey and Kuurn backed away. He yelled out to Creed, “Fight or die, Bloodhound! Fight or die!”

  ***

  “I understand you’re a true saint with a sword,” Elypsa said to Creed.

  “So, I take it you’ve heard of me in the Underland?” Creed smiled. “I must have a greater reputation than I thought.”

  Circling him, she said, “You are a big man with a big ego. You’ll need all of that if you are going to entertain the likes of me.”

  Even with razor-sharp steel in her hands, the underling woman was as radiant as ever. Her figure was intoxicating. Her soft lips perfect. Creed shook his head. He took a deep draw from his nose. Remember what Venir said. She almost killed him even with the armament on. “You have me at a disadvantage. Elypsa, is it?” She nodded. “These swords are not my customary fare. They are a bit on the heavy side. This one here,” he held up the left one, “has a bend in it.”