A fifteen-foot-long barge made of black wood glided over an underworld river called the Current. The Current was a black stream of ice-cold water that didn’t flow. Few creatures lived in the waters that ran through a catacomb of cave tunnels. The tunnels were narrow and low to enormous and high, but one could little tell the difference in the sheer blackness if you were not an underling. The water of the Current had a foul sulfur-like smell. Even the underlings could not drink it, but they found its waters cleansing, and some life thrived within the murky deep.
A steady breeze billowed Catten’s robes as he stood at the fore. He and his brother were not unaccompanied, either. They traveled with new companions, just as the clever and silver-eyed Verbard had promised. Catten preferred to rely on his scrolls as well as some other unique oddities to accompany him. Still, he’d also brought some added security for himself.
As Catten stood at the bow of the rudderless barge, two other underlings stood behind him. They were not hunter warriors such as the elite Badoon that had failed them before. Instead they were armed with flexible black-plated armor, bracers, closed-face helms, and twin scimitar-like swords on their hips. They were Catten’s personal bodyguards that had protected him for over a hundred years. Their skills in battle were rivaled by few in the Underland. They were called the Juegen, and as long as he had them with him, he was confident he would stay alive.
Farther behind him, he could hear the heavy breathing of his brother’s escorts. They were the opposite of his perfect guards: armorless, filthy, stupid, and savage. All six of the disturbing creatures huddled in the back, smacking their twisted lips and growling at one another. Catten kept his distance, glaring at his brother, who stood in the middle of the barge cleaning his nails. Catten didn’t know which disgusted him more: Verbard’s nonchalant attitude or their other escorts.
The others who accompanied them were urchlings, but much different from the rest of their kind. Whereas typical urchlings were smaller, hunchbacked, and hairy, these were a taller, stocky, corded, and an albino version of their kind. They had four nostrils on their bat-like faces and could track like a bloodhound. Their claws hands were that of a ferocious wolverine and their tiny brains followed simple orders to perfection: hunt and destroy. His brother had spent generations breeding their kind for occasions such as these. But this group had never hunted with the underling lords before. He better have control of them.
After countless hours of whisking over the black water, Verbard asked, “So, brother, I can’t help but let my curiosity overcome me, but where exactly are you taking us?”
Catten turned and faced his brother. “Oran’s lair.”
Verbard nodded. “That was my suspicion. Of course, you never are one for surprises, now are you?”
“Would you have made a different choice, Verbard?”
“No, I am just saying if I made the choice, it wouldn’t have been so obvious,” Verbard said.
“Then why did you ask me?”
The twin didn’t reply. Instead he tossed a scrap of human flesh to his pet urchlings, who tore into it—and each other—with vigor. Catten didn’t like the sound of his brother’s voice. It irritated him. He hoped Verbard would say nothing else.
Catten turned forward again, straddling the bow. His brother’s behavior had been an increasing agitation. It never bothered him this much before, though. As a matter of fact, Catten often looked forward to his brother’s clever ideas and daring. Now, though, it had become tiresome. He huffed.
And then Catten heard his brother again at his back: “I couldn’t think of anything else worth asking … brother. So how much longer will this trek to Oran’s be? The scenery on the Current is becoming dreadful.”
Catten remained silent.
CHAPTER 9
McKnight sucked in a breath as he saw ahead of him several spider-like creatures the size of large dogs, with man-like torsos and faces, and the legs of a tarantula. He felt horror as the strange creatures advanced on him then began to carry him away.
As they hauled him along, McKnight studied them, for they were like nothing he had ever seen before. The creatures had strange, bearded faces, large insect eyes, small bent antennas, and neutral, insect-like expressions. A chill raced through McKnight’s spine, and he writhed inside his cocoon, obsessed with the thought of driving his dagger into their ugly bodies over and over again.
Calm down, man, McKnight chided himself.
He looked around and realized he could glimpse more of his surroundings.
This might be your chance.
Two of the strange creatures carried McKnight in and out of webs within an enormous room. The odd light illuminated more than just corpses and cocoons, and the edges of the room began to form. It seemed to be designed for some other, larger humanoid race. McKnight noticed tables, chairs, and other furnishings much larger than that for ordinary men. There was even a massive fireplace, and a variety of weapons lay scattered about as if a battle had taken place.
Where am I? The detective strained his eyes. And where are the people who used this furniture?
Perhaps the losers had been cocooned. He had no idea what race might claim the belongings in this enormous and apparently endless room. Giants? Maybe the legends were true? He was so disoriented he could not even tell if he was above or below ground. Nausea overcame him as he bounced along over ceiling and along walls. He spit bile and groaned.
Soon McKnight was dropped to the ground and then dragged through a winding, twisting corridor that seemed to have been bored through wood. Then the creatures stopped in darkness. He heard the sound of a door opening and felt hot air on his face. He filled his nostrils with exhilaration. Sweet Bish!
Then he was plucked up again and dragged out into a burst of blinding sunlight. Purple and blue spots danced before his eyes. His vision slowly returned as he felt the warmth of sunlight on his cheeks. Be ready.
He crooned his neck and noticed he was out on the limb of a monstrous tree. It felt as if he was free again, despite the inescapable bondage. A tremble of hope entered his mind. He’d had little need for simple joys in the past, other than those supplied through various pleasures in the City of Bone. But now he felt what it meant to be free—or at least close to freedom. A spark consumed him that only a fighting man would understand. He just needed one chance. He looked into the stoic insect eyes of his strange captors.
“Have mercy on me!” he said with a croak.
I sure as Bone won’t return it, though.
As he lay flat on his back, he could see more enormous branches above, covered with bright leaves of emerald and gold. Then he was hoisted up and, without warning, tossed off the massive branch.
He screamed: “Nooooooo!”
Then he noticed Tonio plummeting alongside of him.
Anger overtook his fear, and McKnight yelled out, “You idiot, Tonio! That I should die like an urchin because of your arrogance—ulp!”
McKnight felt his stomach lurch as he jerked to a halt in midair and began to bounce in suspension on a web-like cable. The cocooned Tonio swayed before him. McKnight looked below, expecting to see the ground, but only another massive branch stared back at him, along with some of the arachna-men—as McKnight had begun to call them in his mind. Still overwhelmed with helplessness and fury, McKnight used his momentum to swing toward Tonio and butt the warrior hard in the chin with his head. The jolt was painful, but he continued his assault. Tonio soon responded in kind, and the two butted each other like legless rams.
The arachna-men on the branch below then began pushing McKnight and Tonio into each another. The subsequent laughter sounded to McKnight like night owls hooting. Then he heard a snap of his tether, and he plunged yet again onto a hard branch with a painful thump. He felt the hands of the arachna-men on him, rolling him over and over again, until finally he plunged into a hole. He screamed as he slid downward through the blackness. It was a long, fast ride, which ended as he felt himself vaulted into the air. McKnight plopped onto a
hard wooden floor. He rolled over just in time to see Tonio plummeting his way.
“Ooomph!” McKnight groaned as he reluctantly softened the big man’s landing.
Lying on his back, his body aching, McKnight glanced around at their new surroundings the best he could. Hundreds of pairs of insect eyes gazed down on him and Tonio from row upon row of tiered seats—all filled with arachna-men.
An arena carved right into the heart of the tree?
McKnight struggled against his bonds and managed to sit up on the wooden floor. Nearby, Tonio rolled around like a burning earthworm.
A second later, several arachna-men surrounded them both, poking their chests with spear tips. Two of the ugly beings cut their cocoons with slender blue-bladed daggers. The cords of webbing became brittle as soon as the blades cut across them. A powerful tingling coursed through the detective from head to toe at the feel of the air.
But then McKnight held his nose as a stench filled his nostrils. Thick pools of liquid drained from his cocoon onto the ground around him. He wondered if it contained some of his own excrement. But the muck that covered him seemed to dry fast and he found his clothing still intact, though soaked and misshapen. He might as well have stepped out of a sewage monster’s belly, but he let it go: his moment had come.
Ignoring the stiffness in his cramping muscles, McKnight exploded into action. Tonio, too, wasted no time, catching the closest arachna-man by the neck and snapping its spine like a twig. The young warrior then snatched a dagger from its lifeless grip and leapt at the others.
McKnight disarmed another arachna-man of its blade and used it to poke a hole clean through its throat. The kill felt good. And even though McKnight knew the odds were not in their favor, he sensed no serious fight in the creatures that now surrounded them with their spears lowered—no doubt they’d all been shocked by the onslaught he and Tonio had wrought already.
As he focused on his foes, McKnight heard hoots of excitement from the creatures watching from the tiered seats. Then McKnight snarled, and he and Tonio waded into the arachna-men, stabbing and carving them into puddles of milky blood.
McKnight pulled his blade from one of the creatures and glanced to his right. He could see that the arachna-men were overmatched as he watched Tonio tear into them like a rabid animal. Tonio pinned one to the ground with its own spear and stomped its spider body into goo. We’re gonna get out of here, McKnight thought, liking their chances more by the second.
Seeing the flash of a spear to his left, McKnight hurled a dagger into the open mouth of his attacker. A bubble of webbing erupted toward McKnight’s face as the creature tried to spit the blade out. Another arachna-man rushed straight at him with a spear, bent low. Feeling his legs limbering up, McKnight leaped forward, vaulting over the creature and landing on its back. Twisting quickly, McKnight threw an arm around its neck and strangled it from behind. It crumbled, lifeless, to the floor.
Another rushed in, spear tip bearing down on McKnight’s belly. He snorted a laugh, leaping and kicking it square in the face. He felt its nose crunch under his heel. At the same time, Tonio rammed a spear through its body and it spit globs of bloodied webbing in all directions. Falling to the ground, it writhed in agony.
McKnight watched as all but one lone arachna-man scurried over the walls and disappeared. Glancing around, McKnight counted eight dead. Then he picked up a spear, and together he and Tonio flanked the last arachna-man, who fell to its knees, trembling. McKnight kicked it onto its back and pinned it there with his right foot on its chest.
“Let us go!” McKnight yelled to those in the audience. “If you do, we won’t kill him! We have no quarrel with any of you!”
He heaved for his next breath, knowing his burst of energy now dwindled.
McKnight heard only silence, as if his words were being considered—if they even understood him at all. It was an odd moment. The strange creatures did not blink, but only looked at one another with their insect eyes. McKnight looked around but could see no discernable way out. Iron spikes and barbs seemed to prevent any escape from within the arena—which he could now see had indeed been carved out right in the heart of the giant tree.
How many more must I kill? McKnight knew that he lacked Tonio’s strength. He hadn’t fought so much in years. He didn’t figure his skill with a sword and his excellent marksmanship would serve him now. He was too exhausted. But … Fight or die.
At his side, Tonio stood still, gray as a granite statue splattered with red, black, and white blood. The rangy man seemed to barely even be breathing while McKnight himself was gasping for air.
Then a deep chant rose in the seats around them, like a thousand hooting owls. Were they singing a horrendous song or were they summoning something? McKnight felt something moving under his feet. Looking down, he saw hundreds of hand-sized spiders begin squeezing up out of small holes all over the arena floor. He felt his stomach drop to the floor.
The spiders were white with tiny fangs. Red stripes and spots covered their hairy backs. McKnight froze as they began to swarm onto the creature he had pinned to the ground. Then McKnight jerked his foot off the arachna-man’s chest as the spiders completely covered its body. Soon McKnight heard the spiders’ tiny mouths begin to devour the arachna-man alive. McKnight’s stomach turned to mush and he gagged. Please no!
Fifteen seconds later, all the spiders had scurried back into their holes. Only the arachna-man’s spear remained. McKnight felt an overwhelming sigh of relief run through his shivering body. I hate spiders, I hate everything, McKnight thought, thinking of jamming his spears into the little holes. McKnight saw Tonio standing nearby, ready to drive his spear into the tiny holes as well.
“If we ever escape this cursed tree, Tonio,” McKnight said, “I swear I’ll burn it to the ground!”
Then McKnight heard a creaking sound and he turned to see a tall door opening on the far side of the arena. The arachna-men in the arena seats sat staring at the door like dogs waiting for a treat. From deep within the tunnel came an eerie growl, the likes of which McKnight had never heard before. Then a clacking sound echoed from within the corridor behind the doorway. It grew louder. Tonio gripped a spear in each hand while McKnight studied the blue-bladed daggers in his own grasp. The mysterious blue metal matched the spear tips, and he wondered what it might be—but right now, he wondered even more what on Bish was coming down that corridor.
The crowd started to cheer, and balls of web floated from their mouths like smoke in the air. Something fearful was emerging from the tunnel. McKnight really wanted to run. Son of a Bish!
And then it appeared.
A great hairy humanoid creature filled the entryway. It stood over six feet tall, with brutish muscles covered in red and black fur like a tarantula. It also had a tarantula’s head, with eight tiny insect eyes glowing green. Its mouth was a wicked maw, opening and closing like a snapping turtle, all the while showing four curved fangs. McKnight noted the man-like hands and arms, and that, even stranger, it wore insignia pants like a Royal soldier, but no shirt.
To McKnight, it appeared as if a formidable human had been transformed into a spidery predator. Whatever it was had been a man at some time. McKnight felt something stir beside him. He glanced that way and saw Tonio’s white knuckles squeeze the shaft of his spear. Did he recognize the spidery humanoid? Had a Royal son like Tonio been turned into this perverse abomination?
The creature squatted, brandishing its blade: a broadsword of excellent craftsmanship, McKnight could see. Tonio stepped forward, obviously trying to flank the creature, and McKnight followed suit on the other side. Then Tonio charged, flinging one of his tiny spears at the beast’s chest. In a flash, the spider-human leaped into the air and the spear sailed beneath it. McKnight froze in place, watching in awe as the monster landed behind Tonio, who whirled around in confusion. The spider creature swung its broadsword blade down toward Tonio’s head, but Tonio intercepted the blow with the shaft of his other spear. The sword tore through
the shaft, splitting it in two but at least deflecting the blow into Tonio’s muscled shoulder. The big man groaned.
McKnight shook of the numbness of the moment and leapt onto creature’s back. He felt his daggers sink deep into its spine and shoulder blades. It howled, and spit burst forth from its mouth. Then McKnight felt the creature grab at him and fling him headlong to the ground. He rolled up to take a knee, thinking, That should have killed it! And as he looked at the monster, he could see bluish blood ooze from its wounds. But then it came at him, sword raised to smite him down.
“Bone!” McKnight cried, trying to crawl away.
Just then, Tonio stepped in and delivered a crushing blow to the creature’s jaw area. The spider monster responded with a slice from its broadsword, which Tonio ducked. Rolling with his momentum, Tonio grappled at the thing’s legs, trying to drive the beast to the ground. McKnight stood on shaky legs as the creature dropped its sword, grabbed Tonio around his belly, and flung the warrior over its ugly head into the closest wall with a sickening smack. Even as he thought to defend himself, the detective was amazed to see Tonio rise back to his feet. It was clear that Tonio was no longer an ordinary man.
With the creature advancing on him again, McKnight dashed for the broadsword. As he grasped it, a stream of web was spit onto his feet, holding him fast. He considered trying to cut the webbing away, but feared to, lest his blade also stick. The creature stepped toward him. I’m doomed. But then the creature turned again to Tonio, who was striding toward them, shaking his fists in challenge.
The creature peered back at McKnight; it knew he wasn’t going anywhere thanks to the webbing on his feet. Then the spider beast shook its own red-haired fists at Tonio with a shrill screech—in obvious understanding. The audience erupted with elation. Tugging against the bonds that held him fast, McKnight could only watch as the two warriors squared off like traditional Royal soldiers. Some shred of humanity certainly still lurked deep inside the hulking spider creature.
The Darkslayer: Book 02 - Blades in the Night Page 5
