Blade and Bone

by Jon Sprunk

  There were only a handful of rebels still standing with Emanon, and they were being forced back foot by foot by the tide of undead. Hoping this was going to work, Jirom dropped back into the crack and set his back against the western face. He wedged his feet against the other side and began to push. As he applied pressure slowly, an ache developed in his lower back. He ignored the old injury and kept pushing. For several long seconds, nothing happened. It felt like trying to lift a mountain. Then he heard a cracking sound, like stone splitting apart. A second later, the eastern face of the cliff fell away from him with a thunderous roar. It collapsed so fast that he started to fall after it. Jirom scrambled for something to grab as his legs dangled over open air. His right hand closed around a tiny spur of stone.

  With many grunts and curses, he climbed back to the top of the cliff. As he lay on his side, panting, Jirom gazed down on what he’d done. The entire top half of the defile’s west face had sheared off, falling down to clog the ravine below. Scores of undead had been buried by the falling rock, but—thankfully—none of the landslide had touched the rebels. Emanon and the survivors dispatched the handful of enemies who remained on their side of the blockage. On the far side, the horde of undead seethed and clawed at the mountain of stone in their way. But already some of them were turning away, heading east or west along the main valley floor. Presumably to find a route around. They weren’t stopped, but he had bought his people some time.

  Forcing his shaking limbs to obey, he began the slow descent down the rock chimney. When he hit the defile floor, Emanon was there. His lover grabbed him in a tight embrace and kissed him with such fervor that Jirom almost forgot where they were.

  When Emanon pulled back for breath, he snarled, “If you ever do something that crazy and stupid again, I swear I’m going to . . .”

  “What? Stop loving me?”

  “Never, you beautiful bastard. How in the seven holy fucks did you come up with that?”

  Jirom paused to admire his handiwork. The southern route was completely blocked by broken stone. It was also serving as a tomb for several of his fighters. Only five, besides Emanon, had survived. We keep paying in blood. How long until we all succumb?

  Pushing away the macabre thoughts, Jirom disentangled himself from Emanon’s embrace and gestured to his fighters. “Let’s get moving. Can everyone march?”

  Red Ox had a gash on his left shin that was bleeding profusely, but a makeshift field bandage slowed the flow enough that he could travel. The others had scratches and bruises, but nothing that would slow them down. Jirom hoped they had reserved some of their energy because they had a long trek to make, chasing after the sleds on foot.

  Emanon led them out, and Jirom fell in at the rear. Every few steps he looked back to the rockfall. There was no sign of pursuit yet, but he knew the undead were still coming for them. They would never stop.

  Three Moons opened his eyes and groaned. Holding a hand to his pain-wracked forehead, he sat up. I hope to hell I’m dreaming this.

  The cave was gone. The desert, too. Instead, he sat inside a ring of huge stone megaliths. Like towering sentries, the stones formed a perfect circle around a clearing. Beyond them rose a forest of huge trees. Three Moons couldn’t identify their deep black wood or the broad teal leaves. Up through the dense canopy was an expanse of orange that didn’t look like any sky he’d ever seen before. Even the grass underneath him was strange, its turquoise shafts topped with spaded points. His thirteen comrades lay around him in the clearing. Some were coming to.

  Three Moons stood up slowly, nursing his injured shoulder. The forest went on in all directions for as far as he could see, limited as that was by the lush foliage. Fear had settled in the pit of his gut. He jumped when a hand tapped him on the back.

  “Easy, Moons,” Captain Paranas said as he spun around. “I suspect I already know the answer, but I’ll ask anyway. You have any clue where we are?”

  Three Moons shook his head. “Not a one.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. He had his suspicions, but they were too dire to say aloud. As the rest of the Blades woke up, they joined him in looking around. Their expressions ranged from professional wariness to outright disbelief.

  “Are we dead?” Ino asked.

  “Can’t be,” Pie-Eye said. “I don’t see no heavenly garden.”

  Raste snorted. “You think you’re going to paradise, Pie?”

  “Fuck right I am!” Pie-Eye checked his weapons. “I’m a fucking hero is what I am. Everyone knows heroes sit at the table of the gods with bunches of pretty girls to serve their every pleasure.”

  “This isn’t paradise,” Ino said. “It’s downright eerie.”

  Captain Paranas spoke up. “All right. Stow the chatter. Niko? There you are. We need to know where we are. That magic doorway took us a long way from the desert, and I need to know which direction we take to get back.”

  “Get back?” Pie-Eye asked.

  Three Moons said nothing. This had been his doing, and he didn’t want to be the bearer of what would surely be some unwanted news. I hope we haven’t jumped out of the cauldron only to end up roasting in the fire.

  “That’s right,” Captain Paranas said. “We’re going back to report what we found. We still got a war to win, soldiers.”

  Raste made a rude comment under his breath, but the mercenaries got busy. Wounds were cleaned and bound while the last remaining scouts—Niko, Jauna, and a younger man named Syanos—fanned out to search the area.

  Three Moons went over to the nearest megalith. It stood almost three times his height. The sides were smooth and flat, giving no indication of its purpose. Unless it’s just a landing spot for that portal. But who built it and why?

  “Moons,” Captain Paranas said in a low voice. “We need some answers here.”

  “I know, Cap. But I don’t have anything to tell you. Wherever we are, it’s no place I’ve ever seen before.”

  “So give me a guess. You’re the wizard.”

  Three Moons shot him a hard look. The kind he used on green recruits who asked too many questions. “We’re a long, long way from home. And maybe there’s no way back.”

  Captain Paranas took off his helmet and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”

  Three Moons squinted at the stone. Despite what he’d told the captain, the queer feeling in his stomach hadn’t left. In fact, it was growing stronger. It was similar to the connection he’d felt with the portal, but not as localized. Like he was supposed to be here.

  He was further inspecting the stone when a shout rang out. Raste was on his knees, yelling and writhing. His right hand was held tight by the mouth-like blossom of a tall plant.

  “Get it off!” he yelled as blood ran down his wrist.

  Before Three Moons could react, Ivikson pulled out his sword and chopped through the stalk of the plant. Raste rolled away, clutching his wrist. Three Moons hurried over and knelt beside him.

  “Easy, boy. Let me see.”

  He rolled back Raste’s sleeve to get a better look. The head of the plant was still attached. It held on with rows of tiny serrated teeth. They moved back and forth, even after it had been severed from the stalk, slowly sawing through the flesh. Three Moons drew his knife and placed the point against Raste’s wrist.

  “Wait!” Raste cried. “What are you going to do?”

  Three Moons nodded to Ino and Pie-Eye. “Hold him.”

  Despite Raste’s loud objections, they pinned him to the ground while Three Moons worked. He tried prying the teeth back from the wrist, but they were dug in deep. He didn’t think he could get his knife underneath them without cutting an artery. Putting down the blade, he reached for his fetish bag. He had a couple of drying compounds that might kill the ravenous plant before it ate Raste’s hand. He was searching for them when he came across a small bone pipe. Yes, that would work. If we were back in our own world. But here, who knows?

  Three Moons placed the pipe to
his lips and blew an experimental note. It carried, far louder than he intended and with perfect clarity. The high grasses on the fringe of the clearing parted, and a small creature appeared. It had the general shape and size of a mole rat but with a coat of bright blue fur.

  The creature waddled straight into the midst of the Blades as if they weren’t there. Ino saw it and almost tripped in his rush to backpedal away. “What is that?” he yelled.

  “You can see it?” Three Moons asked.

  “Of course I can fucking see it!” the northerner shouted.

  Three Moons held out a hand to stay Ivikson’s attack. “Just calm down.”

  The creature looked like a rock spirit, the kind he had summoned and dealt with all his life, but in the flesh. The spirit came over to Raste, who was still shuddering in agony.

  Three Moons grasped Raste by the bloody wrist. “Can you help us?”

  The spirit reached up with both paws and tugged on the plant mouth. The hungry flora pulled free with a faint rustle of its leaves. The spirit placed it reverently on the ground. Three Moons wanted to kick the carnivorous plant far away, but he held back out of the respect the spirit was showing. “Pie, give me some help.”

  Three Moons held up Raste’s injured hand. Some of the flesh was mottled and oozing blood, but it looked like the damage was superficial. “Wrap him up and give him something to drink.”

  While Pie-Eye got to work, Three Moons bent down closer to the spirit. “Where are we?” he whispered. A voice replied, as clear as new-spun crystal, in his head.

  You are strangers to the overworld. Why have you come?

  The overworld? He’d never heard the term before, but it set off alarms in the back of his head. This place resembled too many old legends—stuff he’d learned at his grandfather’s knee—for him to take it lightly. In the legends, people who got caught in the nether realms either never returned or they came back many years later with their minds and bodies horribly altered. At the time, he had understood those tales as lessons to not meddle with forces beyond his ken. I should have paid better attention.

  “We got here by accident,” he said to the little creature. “Through a doorway. Do you understand?”

  “Moons.” Captain Paranas was standing over him. “Are you talking to that thing?”

  “I think it’s a spirit of the earth, Cap. It’s talking to me.” He tapped his skull. “In my head.”

  “Ask it to conjure up some wine,” Ino muttered. The big Isuranian was pale. Sweat ran down his face, though the temperature in this place was cool. Far cooler than the desert they had left behind.

  You and your den mates came through the hole between worlds? The earth spirit wriggled its tiny nose. You are maya-touched. You are the den leader?

  Maya-touched? What was that? When the spirit said it, Three Moons felt a brief tug on his personal energy, like a psychic handshake. “I don’t understand what you mean. I talk to the spirits in my world. We need to get back there.”

  Yes. You flesh creatures should return to the underworld.

  Three Moons was about to ask why they should leave when the little spirit suddenly turned with an intent expression. Then it vanished straight into the ground as if it had dropped into a hole, but there was no hole there.

  “Moons,” Captain Paranas said quietly. “What the fuck is happening?”

  Three Moons stood up and turned in a slow circle, straining with all his senses—earthly and otherwise—to penetrate the woods around them. Something was out there, just beyond his perception. He could feel it watching them. “We need to move. Now.”

  Captain Paranas didn’t argue. “Everyone, move out! Niko, pick a direction and blaze a trail. We’re moving, people!”

  Pie-Eye helped Raste up before they followed the rest of the Blades. Three Moons stayed behind for a moment. He wanted to see if the little creature would return. He had so many questions, the first of which was how he and the Blades could get back to their own world. Obviously the spirit creatures were able to travel back and forth. Or did they? Perhaps they merely—

  “Moons!” Captain Paranas shouted. “Get your ass moving!”

  With a growl of frustration, Three Moons hurried after his brethren. Branches with blue-green leaves whipped him as he hobbled along as fast as his old bones could manage. The captain was right in front of him, with the rest of the Blades strung out along a rough trail Niko had found. Three Moons hoped they were going in the right direction. Wherever that was.

  Get a grip on yourself. You’re the only one who can get them out of this mess. Now think! How do we get back to our world?

  He thought back to everything he had learned about the spirit world. Stone circles were supposed to mark sites of great importance, usually places where the spirit lines intersected, but he didn’t see how that helped their present circumstances. There was no portal on this side of the veil. And that was what they needed. Another portal.

  After an hour, the captain called for a rest, and the Blades fell out along the trail. Three Moons had just enough energy left to walk over to where Raste sat beside Pie-Eye. Raste’s sleeve was soaked with blood from where it had leaked from the field dressing. “He’ll need that rewrapped,” Three Moons said.

  He was just about to sit on the ground when Jauna appeared, tugging at his sleeve. “The captain wants you.”

  Swallowing a bitter curse, Three Moons followed her to the head of the company where Captain Paranas was wiping his sweaty face with a rag while he talked to Niko. Both men looked over as Three Moons joined them.

  “Any ideas how to get out of here yet?” the captain asked.

  “I’m still working on that, but I think we should keep moving.”

  “Well, come look at this.”

  Captain Paranas and Niko led him off the trail. The ground was softer here and covered in a layer of black loam. It reminded Three Moons of the swamp where he’d been born and raised, only strange and twisted. He kept expecting something bad to jump out of the bushes at any moment.

  After pushing through a few yards of bluish shrubbery, and keeping a sharp eye out for more of those flesh-eating plants, they entered another clearing. A trickling creek of quicksilver entered from their right to flow into a broad pool. Sunlight danced across the mirror-bright silver water, making him blink.

  “You think it’s safe for us to drink?” the captain asked.

  Three Moons knelt on the shore of the pool and dipped his finger into the liquid. It was cool to the touch. When he pulled his finger out, the silvery stuff dripped like normal water. It was completely odorless. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

  Bracing himself, he cupped some of the water in his hands and took a sip. It was slightly sweet, refreshing the desert-shriveled tissues of his mouth and throat as he swallowed. He didn’t detect any foul tastes. He took a bigger sip. “It should be fine. It’s not like we have a lot of choice in the matter.”

  As Niko went back to fetch the rest of the company, Captain Paranas squatted down beside the pool. He took a sip and then splashed some on his face. The silvery water ran down his neck and clung to his beard. They both refilled their waterskins as the other mercenaries arrived. Ino sat down beside the pool and immediately plunged his injured leg into the water. Three Moons was about to urge caution, but it was too late.

  The Isuranian sighed with gusto. “That feels fucking marvelous.”

  Raste sat down by the water and looked over. Three Moons shrugged. Raste slowly unwrapped the bandages from his injured hand. The skin had turned a little gray, but the sores were closed. He lowered it into the pool, and a smile spread across his face. The other Blades started to strip down for a dip.

  “You think that’s a good idea?” Three Moons asked the captain.

  He let out a long breath. “Hell if I know, Moons. But we’ve been out on that desert for weeks. I think we need the chance to unwind. If you’re concerned, then you can have the first watch.”

  With that, Captain Paranas
kicked off his boots and waded into the shallows. The rest of the mercenaries were jumping into the pool. Three Moons hadn’t seen them smile since forever, but now they were laughing and splashing each other, the silver water streaming down their naked bodies. Three Moons found himself smiling at their antics in spite of the dread he felt surrounding this place. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that coming here had been a mistake, although the portal’s existence indicated that someone had wanted to come here long ago. He wished he knew more about that. He had the suspicion it was vitally important to their current situation.

  Three Moons walked around to the creek that fed the pool. When he got to the tributary, he looked up its channel. The creek ran down a gentle slope. Farther up in that direction, maybe a mile or two, two tall hills formed a V. Higher elevation would give them a better view of the area. He was about to head back and suggest that to the captain when something caught his attention. Just a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. Pale and roughly man-sized, it slipped away with exceptional speed. Another pale shape dashed through the brush on the other side of the creek.

  Three Moons rushed back to the others.

  “Moons!” Captain Paranas drank from his canteen as he stood knee-deep in the pool. “I take back what I said. Screw the watch and get in here. It’ll make you feel ten years younger. Maybe more in your case.”

  “We got trouble, Cap!”

  Despite their horseplay antics, the Blades reacted to his warning with practiced professionalism. They dashed out of the water and grabbed their weapons. Crossbows were loaded, swords and axes bared, as the mercenaries formed into a loose line along the pool, keeping the water at their backs. As he glanced around, Three Moons noticed his brothers and sisters were looking pale. Their skin was blanched, especially on their legs and lower torsos. Was the silver water infected with something?

  Before he could think to do anything about it, the edge of the clearing erupted in violence. Eight gray-skinned figures charged from the brush, hissing and growling like wild beasts. They stood on two legs but moved low to the ground, leaping high as they attacked the Blades. But what caused Three Moons to stop and stare were their faces. They had no eyes, just a smooth slab of skin where their eyes should have been.