The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 1-5): Sword and Sorcery Adventures

by Craig Halloran

  Scorch brushed his hand over his robes to repair the sword slits and then eyed the rocky shafts that penetrated the orb. “I did not foresee this,” he said.

  “Neither did I,” Trinos agreed, “but I did want my world to be unpredictable …” She stretched out and touched one of the spikes in the orb. The power that coursed through the strand of rock was warm. Intoxicating. “It’s exceeded expectations.” She tilted her head and glanced past his shoulder. “Hmmm … I see you are not alone either. Strange company you keep, Scorch.”

  A figure in dark robes hovered behind him. His eyes were like iron. There were others. Soldiers in black chain armor with many weapons. Underlings.

  “They are your creation,” Scorch said, “are they not? And quite interesting. Entertaining. I like the way they think. I like the way you thought them out.”

  “I didn’t create them to be your evil playmates.”

  “Nonetheless, they are.”

  Trinos drifted backward and stood in between the Nameless Two. She felt vulnerable. It bothered her much.

  Bish was her creation!

  And someone was taking it from her.

  “Trinos,” Scorch started, politely. He locked his fingers behind his back and began to pace. “I’m thinking it might be best if I left. Perhaps you would care to join me? I long for the loneliness of the stars again.”

  He sounded sincere. His smile was dashing. Convincing.

  Trinos felt a chill. The thought of a cold life in space again didn’t enamor her. She liked Bish. Hard fought or not. The peaceful moments were worth fighting for. That’s what life was about.

  Scorch came closer. “I can’t do this without you. Nor you me.” He held her face in his hands. “You are such a beautiful creature. Brilliant. Perhaps we can start our own world together. The greatest of all systems.”

  Her flesh stirred. Goosebumps raised on her arms. His warm breath on her neck comforted her. She felt more alive than ever.

  She rested her hand on his broad chest. Felt his hard muscles. Impressive. She looked up into his eyes. They were blue like newborn planets. Filled with life. But, a furnace of deceit was behind them. I can’t be this mortal. She narrowed her eyes, shoved him back.

  “You don’t want to leave,” she said, clenching her fist. Be ready. “You just want the power.”

  Scorch offered an innocent grin. “I want both. To come and go as I please, as you once did. We both can have both again.”

  “I don’t want both,” Trinos said. “I want this.”

  “Then help me harness the power so that I might leave.”

  “That would only give you the power to destroy me. To destroy Bish. That is why one cannot leave without the other’s consent.” She poked him in the chest. “This never would have happened if you had never meddled with my world in the first place.”

  “You could have just let it be. Left me alone. But you wanted an explanation.”

  “You’re right,” Trinos said, turning away. “I should have left you to the Void.”

  Scorch seized her wrists and jerked her to his chest. “You’ll certainly wish you had if you don’t succumb to this.”

  “Unhand me!” she yelled.

  The cavern shook. Shards of rock dropped from above, sizzling into the orb and splitting the hard ground.

  He forced her toward the ledge. His blue eyes were infernos. “Do this, Trinos!”

  “Never!”

  The Nameless Two’s blades bit into Scorch.

  The iron-eyed underling flung them aside with a wave of his hand.

  The underling soldiers pounced on the fallen fighters.

  Trinos’s feet shuffled on the ledge. Scorch had overpowered her with his surprise assault. His hands were vices on her wrists.

  “Quit fighting,” he said, “You’ve no choice in the matter.” He looked over his shoulder at the underling with iron eyes. “Do it!”

  The underling gestured with his glowing hands. She raised her guard, and gasped when Scorch muted it with his powers. She and Scorch were lifted from their feet and sailing toward the orb.

  “Stop this madness!” she screamed in his face.

  “Never!”

  Into the orb they went with a dazzling flash.

  Bish shook and trembled.

  ***

  Master Sinway stood on the ledge with a smile on his face. He’d never imagined such power before. He stretched out his hand. Fingertips. It fed him. Just to harness it would give him all the strength he ever needed.

  Clang! Clang! Clang!

  He turned toward the skirmish.

  The Nameless Two outmatched his Badoon soldiers, their blades as fast as they were sharp. They moved with speed beyond their powers. Sinway was certain the woman had something to do with that. Her powers were unfathomable as well.

  And here I thought I was the most powerful in all the world. I am a gnat!

  Mesmerized, he watched the orb. Scorch had promised him more power than he could imagine, but he could imagine quite a bit now. He leaned closer. Why should I wait for him to give it if I can take it for myself? He licked his lips.

  Glitch!

  He turned. The last Juegen soldier had fallen. The Nameless Two came straight for him, blades dripping with gore. Summoning his power and slinging them backward with a thought, he turned to face the orb once more. Thousands of years of life converged into his next thoughts.

  “I want. I get.”

  Into the orb he went.

  CHAPTER 28

  It was late. The bustling in the Magi Roost was dwindling. Venir’s chair groaned when he rested his forearms on the table. The fire crackled behind him, warming his back. A blurry eye inspected the innards of his tankard.

  “Ale!” Venir yelled.

  “There’s plenty on the table,” Melegal said with a bargirl giggling on his lap. “Pour and be silent already.”

  Venir grabbed one empty tankard after another and tossed them to the floor.

  “Grog!”

  “You finished all that was left,” Melegal said.

  “I did?”

  Melegal nodded. “But they’ve plenty of coffee left.”

  Venir leaned back, chair groaning. He’d been drinking the better part of the day. Loosening his bones down to the marrow. Softening the aching in his muscles. He rubbed his face. Felt the sting of the shiner on it. Ran his fingers over his missing ear.

  What else is there?

  He rested his hands on the edge of the table. Eyed the black stubs of his fingers on one hand. It trembled. Flexed the five on the others.

  “I’m surprised there’s this much left of me,” he whispered.

  “Me too,” Melegal said, not looking at him.

  Venir wasn’t sure if Melegal was talking to him or the buxom woman on his lap. His thoughts drifted to Kam. He didn’t know if she was mad at him or not. He rubbed his face. Yawned. Turned toward the fireplace and reflected several moments. Fight or die. He grabbed a metal poker and stirred the coals. I fought and should have died. I fight … things die. “Hmph.”

  A strong hand slapped his shoulder. He turned. Billip stood behind him and took a seat. His forehead showed deep creases.

  “Try to keep it a little lower, Venir,” Billip said, cracking his knuckles. He eyed the front door and balcony. “We haven’t had this much peace in days and I’m certain it won’t last. Let us all enjoy it if you can?”

  Venir scooted back to the table.

  “Why does everyone act like they’re dead already?”

  “Because we probably are.”

  “That doesn’t sound like your kind of talk, Billip.”

  Billip rubbed is goatee and offered a grin.

  “Well, if you insist on sitting around until Scorch arrives, my perspective will be plenty clear.”

  Venir stretched his long arm across the table and grabbed a metal pitcher. He looked inside and tossed it to the floor.

  “Will you stop doing that?” Billip said. “Have you lost both your b
rains and your manners? This isn’t one of Bone’s holes, Lout.”

  Venir let out a rugged sigh and leaned back. “Does one man frighten you so, Billip? After all we’ve fought? All we survived.”

  Billip grabbed his arm and squeezed it. “We need to leave while we have the opportunity. He’ll be back. Our lives depend on it.” He swallowed. “Talk to Kam. Tell her to leave this cursed place.”

  “She won’t go, Billip. Not with any convincing. Certainly not mine.” He pulled his arm away. “And where would she go? Any of us? The underlings spread like weeds. Look at these people.” Over a dozen patrons remained. Smoking. Drinking. Having hushed conversations with one another. “They are scared slatless of the wilderness. There is nothing but death out there. Melegal and I barely made it here ourselves. The caravans are arriving in bits and pieces. You said so yourself.” He stood up. “No, I’ll take my chances with this Scorch and the other one for now.”

  “Melegal,” Billip started, “are you hearing me?”

  Melegal shrugged his narrow shoulders and said, looking at his girl, “My ears are reserved for her lips tonight. You should do the same.”

  Venir rubbed Billip’s head, picked up the pitcher, and set it on the table. He patted the long hunting knife on his hip.

  “We’ll be alright.”

  It was going to take more than scary stories to run Venir off. He’d fought hard enough to get back. The Outlands. Underlings. The Under-Bish. Giants. Dragons. He’d survived them all. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

  Billip looked over his shoulder at him. “You don’t have that get up, Venir. Not that I think that’d be much help either.”

  I escaped Outpost Thirty One without it, he wanted to say, but didn’t. He would have died without Slim. That much was certain.

  “Billip,” Venir said, “I’m staying. You’ve no reason to stay if you don’t want.” He looked at Melegal. “You either.”

  “Hah,” Melegal said, “I’m not staying on account of you. I’m staying on account of her.” He squeezed the barmaid’s knee. She giggled and slapped his shoulder. “And I’ve come as far as I want for today. I’m not going anywhere near those Outlands. Not after those … things!”

  “What things?” the barmaid said. “I want to hear this.”

  “You’ll hear when I say you can hear and not a moment sooner.” Melegal bounced her off his lap. “Now off with you. Take me to your abode. My limbs grow weary.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I need a woman’s touch to soothe them.”

  Georgio, Brak, and Nikkel burst out of the kitchen and headed straight for Venir’s table and took a seat.

  “What’s going on?” Georgio said. He had a toothpick in his mouth.

  Brak burped.

  Nikkel was all smiles, patting his belly.

  Joline stormed out of the kitchen, her eyes locked on Billip. She hollered, “Keep them out of here! Giant urchins!” She pointed. “You’re going back to the market first morning!”

  “Me?” Billip said. “Make them go!”

  “You all go!”

  She ducked back into the kitchen.

  “Fine job, boys. Fine job!” Billip cursed.

  “Aw, don’t worry, Billip. We’ll go.” Georgio said, yawning. “It’s nothing.”

  “Taking you to the market? Any of you?” Billip said. “Last time, half the supplies didn’t make it back. I’d trust an orc sooner than you overgrown bed-wetters.”

  Venir let out a gusty laugh. Everyone followed. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard. There used to be more laughter in his life but now there was hardly any. It didn’t use to be this way.

  Brak’s swollen face had a big round smile.

  Nikkel’s teeth shone white.

  Georgio’s curly hair bounced on top of his head.

  Even Melegal couldn’t hide the grin on his face.

  “Vee!” Georgio said. “I want to hear what all you did. How many more underlings are dead?”

  It was a moment. Venir’s heart stopped in his chest. The mutterings of people. The smell of food. The taste of ale. A smoky room. Embers crackling in your ears.

  This was home.

  Venir laid his heavy arms on the table. All eyes were on him. Even Melegal stayed his withdrawal. Brak leaned in the farthest of them all. Eyes wide. Filled with wonder. Curiosity.

  “I’m not even sure where to start,” Venir said, looking down at the table. “It’s been so long … I’m not sure I have the tongue for it anymore.” He cleared his throat. Pushed back from the table. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  Brak grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “Maybe there is no tomorrow.”

  Their eyes locked. Venir shook his head and tried to pull away again. Brak held him fast.

  “Tell us what happened to your fingers,” a sprite voice injected. “How’d they get cut off? It looks like an underling ate them.”

  Venir saw a girl taking off an apron. She climbed up and sat cross-legged at the end of a table. It was Jubilee.

  “Yeah,” Nikkel said. “I want to hear about the time you fought Farc too. I was there!”

  “An imp ate them,” Venir said, holding out his hand. “The ugliest thing I ever saw, and I’ve seen a lot of ugly.”

  “As ugly as Darleen?” Georgio said with laugh.

  “Uglier.”

  Everyone fell silent.

  Before he realized it, Venir was talking. Telling. Arms flailed in the air. Stories rolled off his tongue like honey, one word after another. Every ache. Pain. Doubt. Regret. It fled. It went on for one hour. Then two.

  Giants.

  Dragons.

  Imps.

  Man-urchins.

  Orcs.

  Brigand Queens.

  Mist.

  Minotaurs.

  Royals.

  Ogres.

  Wizards.

  Oversized Insects.

  Underlings.

  Horror after horror. Fight after fight. Torment after torment.

  He talked on and on from night till dawn. Every seat was filled when he suddenly felt compelled to stop. Took a breath and looked up. Kam was there, Erin in her arms, smiling the same as the first time he met her.

  He smiled back and winked. “See, no blood this time. My stories don’t always hurt.”

  The front door creaked open. Some of the sleepy faces at the table stirred.

  Venir watched Kam’s green eyes grow wide. Erin fussed in her arms. Jubilee looked over her shoulder and gasped. All the young men’s faces went taut. Melegal looked at him and shrugged.

  A man in dark robes entered the room with a hood over his head. Darleen, Ozark and Dasan came down the steps with triumphant looks in their eyes.

  Billip whispered to Venir, “That’s Master Sidebor.”

  The lights in the room grew dim. The air felt cold.

  Venir’s hand fell to the knife on his hip. He eased it out. Eyed Melegal.

  Jubilee hopped off the table and scurried out of sight.

  Master Sidebor took her place and stood at the table’s end.

  “It is my understanding that cooperation is no longer forthcoming from you,” he said, sliding the sleeves up his arms. He tapped his long black finger nail on the table. Tiny holes sizzled in the wood. “I think Scorch will be very unhappy to know that his warning was not heeded.”

  “This Scorch is not welcome here,” Venir said, standing up, “and neither are you.”

  Sidebor lifted his hooded head up. “Human, your mouth and your girth only give me more to torment … and I will enjoy it.”

  Venir’s heart started thumping in his ears. This thing sounded like a man. Looked like a man. But something was different. Twisted. Wrong. He looked up at Kam. She was shaking her head. She started down the steps. Osark and Dasan barred her path.

  “Get out of my way!” Kam demanded. “Sidebor! Leave them be! It’s me you want, not them. Let them go. I’ll stay.”

  Sidebor chuckled. “Oh, it’s too late for that
, I’m afraid,” he said, scratching patterns in the table. “Too late, much so. My patience is at an end. Scorch’s will be as well.”

  Sidebor didn’t look so smug when the entire tavern shook.

  Wood cracked and groaned. The floor buckled. Glass and pottery crashed to the floor.

  “What in Bish was that?” Billip said, looking around, eyes wild. “I felt the entire world shake. I swear I did!”

  Sidebor’s hood had fallen from his face. His ruby eyes flashed a startled look.

  Venir’s blood turned red hot. His neck hairs rose. His veins pumped with fire.

  Underling!

  He launched himself—knife first—over the table.

  CHAPTER 29

  Creed sat inside his cell with his head between his knees. His wounds burned. His head hurt. The cold damp air made him shiver. He coughed.

  Bone! What have I done to myself!

  He thought of the armament. Such power he’d had in his hands. He should have used it to dispatch Lord Grom. That’s what he should have done. He never imagined his grandfather would punish him so. And for fighting underlings, of all things. Defending his home. His city against evil.

  It’s upside down.

  He leaned his head against the wall and started rubbing the callouses on his hands. They were thick and white, like hide armor. Since he’d been a child he’d swung steel like a duck treads water. Now, he felt naked as a babe. Helpless. Defenseless. In his own home, of all places.

  I’ve got to get it back!

  He thought much about Lorda. Her teardrop face, cat eyes, and long silky air. She’d betrayed him, but in a good way. She actually cared. Wanted him alive and not dead. He always did have a way with older women. He allowed himself a smile and fantasized some more.

  She likes me.

  “The woman pretty. The woman pretty ... Eh,” the other prisoner said. “Like a cat. Kit cat. Cat. Long since I see a woman.”

  Creed put his head back down.

  “Seen many women. Had wife. Children. Not pretty like that ... Eh. Eh. No, not pretty like that.” He licked his overgrown mustache and gestured with his hands. “So round ... Eh. Round. Curvy like flower vase ... Eh.”

  Creed still had no idea who the old man was and he didn’t care. He’d ruled out it being his uncle. Still, it bothered him that this stranger knew everyone in the castle. They were family in one way or another. Many of them. Hundreds. Some lived in and some lived out. But the Bloodhounds were thicker than thieves.