by JD Franx
The old man laughed even harder. “Lookit that, boyo. Let’s see your magic man get out of that one. I’ll bring ya gougers something ta eat later. Enjoy your day.”
“Eamon?” Cormak shouted, wincing from the effort. “Have you checked all these ruins? They are creatures here in the Deep...”
“Been here twenty years, magic man. Only creatures that wander this way are gobshites like yous. Now hush it. Ya make too much noise, then I can’t concentrate. I want to get home not spread me ass all over the multiverse. Later, creatures.” Cackling with madness, the old man disappeared down the stone hallway.
“Crazy bastard,” Dominique sighed. As the hour passed, he became more bored than he ever thought possible.
Clearly, just as bored, Shasta continued the hour old conversation.
“Crazy bastard who knows shit we couldn’t dream of, Captain. Exploding gods-know-what, and blazing bright clay balls? Who is this guy?” Shasta asked, snorting in an obvious attempt to clear her head. Dominique noticed both her wrists had been set, bound, splinted, and wrapped tight, giving her broken wrists some support. The pain did not stop her from speaking though. “That exploding ball of bright light could change the outcome of every ship we take, let alone whatever that was that exploded in the glade. We could sink armoured Royal ships with that stuff easy.”
Cormak groaned and shuffled into a sitting position. “We need to get out of here before we worry about any of that,” he said. “We’re bleeding and both Shasta and myself reek of broiled flesh. If this ruin is far enough under ground and exposed to the caverns of the Deep Earth, this abandoned ruin won’t be abandoned for long.”
“I’m open to any suggestions, Cormak.” Dominique grunted, pulling on the ropes once more to emphasize his point. “Got any runes left?”
“No. Crazy fool took my belt-pouch.”
“Great,” Shasta mumbled. “Guess we’ll have to catch him off guard the next time he’s in here.” Dominique grunted his agreement as a ringing crash of metal echoed from down the hallway.
“I got a funny feeling we’re going to have figure out something else,” Cormak said. “And soon.” Another crash rolled down the hall as a metal dinner plate spun sideways towards the cell, scraping along the stone floor.
As if in reply to the wizard’s statement, an answering nook, nook, nook, reverberated off the walls, bouncing its way to the three prisoners.
“I know that sound, Captain,” Shasta whispered, panic raising her voice.
Dominique nodded as the blood drained from his face. “Yeah, me too. The Mahala are here.” The words were barely out of his mouth when the stone floor beneath them heaved, lifting them a full foot, as an all too familiar explosion rocked the ruins. As the dust began to settle, Eamon’s voice drifted down the hallway towards them.
“Hooya, little bastards. Get the feck out my goddamn ruins!” Several more smaller thumps shook the floor under Dominique and the others. The shrill cries of fleeing Mahala bounced off the stone walls all the way back to their cell.
“Damn that crazy fool’s smart,” Cormack muttered. “The Mahala use echo location. They’ll never come back here after those bangs. The ones who survived will have fried senses for a week, some permanently even.”
“Do you really think our half-cooked asses brought them here?” Shasta asked.
“It’s possible, though you’d think they would have found him some time ago. He has been here for twenty years. Strange...”
Eamon strolled out of the dark hallway, a huge smile pasted to his face. “Bracing,” he said. “Skittery little feckers can bloody move. Too bad for them they’re stupid and can’t see tripwires.” He laughed. “Now why would they come here, after twenty goddamn years? Don’t suppose you gobshites know anything about that, do ya?”
“Of course we do, you decrepit old fuck,” Shasta shrieked. “You roasted us half to death and put us in a cell, in a ruin open to the air currents of the Deep Earth. What the fuck did you think was gonna happen? The Mahala eat people, you half-wit!”
Eamon cackled, clearly finding her outburst hilarious. “And here I thought you’d be a little grateful I set and wrapped your wrists instead of leaving you to become a cripple.” Folding his hands at the wrists, he curled his arms across his chest, mocking her. “Don’t think you’d make much of a pirate when you can’t hold a sword, shiela. Don’t matter, the skittery little fecks are dead, or long gone. Fast as they move, they’re likely half way to holy-roller town.”
“They won’t be back, Eamon,” Cormack offered. “They move like that because they’re senses are stronger than ours—”
“You don’t say, magic-man. Echo-location, dumbass, like bats back home on Earth,” Eamon interrupted. Speaking slowly, as if talking to to a simpleton, he added, “That’s why they left so fast. The pressure from the big bangs were too much for their senses. Of course I know that, you eejit! Now maybe now I can get some work done today. Especially with you stupid pirates asleep.”
“We’re the idiots?” Shasta said, as she snorted. “We’re not going to go to sleep, dumbass.”
Eamon smirked. “Night, folks.” Tossing a small tube into their cell, he turned and disappeared down the hallway once more.
“What the fuck now?” Dominique said, kicking the tube away from himself.
“No! Don’t—” Cormack yelled. Dominique’s boot hit the cylinder with a loud pop, breaking the tube in half. Purple smoke hissed out, filling the cell.
“Crazy fucking bastard,” Dominique sighed, as he lost consciousness, but not before he watched Shasta and Cormack slump over out cold.
CAIRNWOOD, FREE LANDS
From high in the oak tree beside the lodge, Cassie muffled a cry as she watched Kael fall beneath the powerful fist of the Orotaq Shaman. Breaking the promise she made to him, she hopped across the branches and slid down the tree in less than a second. She vanished into the throngs of fighting throughout the town square. Despair swallowed her common sense as she raced to find Kyah; she had joined the fighting the moment it broke loose. Cassie stared out into the throng of fighting, but couldn’t see her. No one else had magic that could save Kael from the shaman. Something with his plan had gone very wrong.
Everything would have gone exactly as planned had Kael not made one mistake, though it was ultimately a mistake that allowed the people of Cairnwood to gain the upper hand. When he locked the doors to the north watchtowers, he did not know that a shift change was due. As Kael was sneaking through the lodge, the watchtower relief arrived and discovered the spear-locked doors. Instead of returning in silence, the four Orotaq guards sounded the lookout alarms instead. It kept the four of them out of the initial fight, and gave a big advantage to the town.
When Wairekk left earlier in the evening to return to Black Hollow, he took his blood-mate with him. Very few Orotaq warriors had one. Orotaq magic was a mystery in Talohna, even to those it affected. When two Orotaq warriors stand side by side facing imminent death on a battlefield and blood has mixed with the enemy and with each other, should both survive, a magical bond forms and the blood-mates are connected to each other, protecting the other in any situation. They fight together, live together, and eventually die together. It was a rare and powerful form of Orotaq magic. The two warriors gain the strength, speed, and stamina of the other. Orotaq blood-mates were almost impossible to kill and had two of the oldest still been in Cairnwood, the outcome would have been very different.
Wairekk’s departure left eleven Orotaq warriors and the two shamans in the village. The four at the watchtower meant the Cairnwood citizens only had to deal with seven as Kael dealt with the wizards. Kael’s weapons smuggling had armed close to fifty men and women, but the two pikes turned the advantage heavily for the town’s people, allowing them to stay out of the range of the Orotaq’s powerful physical attacks.
Kyah had been darting through the mass of people using the lightning spell Kael taught her to distract the Orotaq fighters while the townsfolk cut them down.
Her kinrai chain hummed and whistled as it darted out, left and right, though both chain and magic did little harm because of the Orotaq’s thick hide and natural resistance to magic.
The last Orotaq warrior was chopped down while the men with pikes buried in its flesh did their best to hold the monstrous fighter still.
As he fell, Kyah approached Cornelius Redding. “Mayor! There were still at least two of the enemy at the watchtowers,” She glanced around and took a quick count of the Orotaq dead. “Probably four.”
“Who are you? You’re not from our town,” Cornelius asked, as she got closer.
“I am a friend of Kael’s. We travel together. We must go after the last four Orotaq. You have yet to lose a single person from Cairnwood. Should you hope to keep it that way, we must hurry.” He nodded and yelled for others to help. They were just leaving to go to the watchtowers when Kyah heard Cassie scream for her, she turned around as the young girl rushed into her arms.
Sobbing, Cassie let go and began pulling Kyah with her while trying to explain what happened. “You have to come, Kyah. Now. He needs you. Please hurry! I think he’s dead!” she screamed, tugging on Kyah’s arm with all her strength.
Cornelius overheard and yelled at Kyah. “Go with her. If Kael needs help, we’ll handle the last four. Go quickly! If he dies then we will have won but a token victory. He gave us the chance to fight. Go.” He nodded and turned toward the watchtowers, waving for his fighters to join him.
Kyah nodded. “Where is he, Cassie?”
“Behind the lodge, the last shaman beat him, Kyah. Please hurry,” Cassie begged, as she began crying once again.
“I will, but you stay here with the people who are not going to the watchtowers, yes? Promise me?”
“I want to help him, Kyah,” she persisted.
Kyah touched her cheek. “I cannot help him if you are there, sweetheart. I will be too worried for you. Battle magic is unpredictable. If you were to die, then we will have saved nothing. Please stay here.” She smiled and took off for the lodge, and for Kael. “Gods, keep him safe,” she mumbled to herself.
Kyah rushed the short distance to the lodge, her toes seldom making full contact with the dirt below her feet. With her heart in her throat, she burst through the front door and stared in awe at the gaping holes in the rear of the lodge. Picking her way past burning wood and straw mattresses that danced with growing flames, she jumped through the opening into the spacious courtyard. The Orotaq shaman had a massive fist wrapped around Kael’s throat and shook his unconscious body like a rabid dog with a rat. A full three feet from the ground, Kael’s feet swayed back and forth, matching the movements of his upper body. Kyah’s stomach lurched into her throat at the sight, positive the man she cared so much for was already dead.
She screamed at the top of her voice. “Stop, you goddamn animal!”
The shaman turned at her words, a suspicious frown on his face. After a quick look, he instead offered a sly smile. “Ah, Wairekk was right. This purge has brought forth many profits. Even this offal’s healer has come to play magic,” he said. His deep voice was full of amusement as he tossed Kael’s body to the ground and turned his full attention to Kyah. It made her heart hammer with rage.
The shaman continued talking as he moved closer, and it forced Kyah to circle away. She glanced left and right to see if anyone would come to her aid.
“I thought you came to play magic, healer. You must know no one will come to help you. This town’s people are not that stupid. You risk your life to save them, but they would let you die to save themselves. It is something far beyond your ken.”
“You know nothing of what I understand, you disgusting freak of magic.”
The shaman laughed. “You know, little one, we’ve heard many tales of this DeathWizard and his healer,” he sneered, as he pointed at Kael. “When I am done showing you real magic, you’ll heal for us. Warriors returning to battle only minutes after serious injury will impress Wairekk to no end.”
“Healing magic does not work that way, you ugly bastard. You are as big a fool as you are ugly, Orotaq,” Kyah said, still looking back and forth in all directions. “I am not Fae. I cannot heal like them.” Looking down as she came to Kael’s broken body, grief and despair threatened to overwhelm her. “Oh gods, what did you do to him, you animal? Wake up, love, please. You have to help me. Kael, wake up!” she screamed as loudly as she could, then bent down and shook him, careful not to injure him further, but not so much as a twitching muscle moved.
The shaman clucked his tongue and chuckled. “He’s broken, little girl. Might you last longer? Perhaps your not-Fae healing magic can stop me better than his pathetic death magic did?” he mocked.
The Orotaq shaman’s maniacal laughter, as well as the thought of Kael lying close to death, ignited Kyah’s anger. Once it spiked, her true nature tore free from her control. One last look around the courtyard and through the destroyed lodge showed her that no one was coming and Kael was well beyond helping and hearing.
Her voice strengthened and she rose from Kael’s side. “The only fool I see is you, dog! Your commander needs to supply you witless fools with better information,” Kyah sneered. As hatred dripped from her words, she stepped over Kael’s unconscious body and stood her ground against the shaman, using her own body to shield Kael.
“You shall see who the real fool is, little one, after you are broken and lying in the dirt beside your lover.” The shaman frowned as fire formed in one hand and swirling ice in the other. The two magics reacted violently as he brought his hands together and compressed the two spells, releasing the twisting mess straight toward Kyah and Kael.
Kyah refused to move as the hissing wall of steam roared towards her. The shaman’s wide grin showed the confidence of his attack. Moments before the magical storm slammed into them both, Kyah lifted her right hand, and with the palm facing out, barked words that had not left her mouth in almost a year. A solid green shield materialized over her body and Kael’s. The raging storm of vaporized water coated her shield, but with a simple twist of her wrist, the shield snuffed out the Orotaq’s magic.
“You witch!” the shaman snarled. Clearly intending to say more, Kyah was quick to interrupt.
“You have no idea, you goddamned dog. Your filth has knelt before my kind since the dawn of time,” she cursed. The venom of hatred coated every word.
The shaman stood completely still, as if unsure of what to do. Only one group of people would ever speak to an Orotaq shaman with words like that, and if he used violence against a Dead Sister, it was punishable by a lot worse than death. Kyah smiled, yet still seethed with anger as she watched the shaman try to figure what had just happened.
“I... I...”
She cut him off, again, before he could say anything else. “Enough,” Kyah barked. Her right hand shot up, putrid green magic frosting her fingers. “Your lesson is learned too late, dog.” She sneered and walked towards him, long strands of green mist trailed from her fingers and hissed as they hit the ground, fusing rock, grass and dirt alike. The shaman dropped to his knees in obedience. Too late to save himself, his selfless act of reverence might help his brothers down the road. Kyah’s smile widened. Almost immune to normal magics, the Orotaq were extremely susceptible to demonic energy of a witch’s magic.
Standing almost face-to-face, Kyah grasped the shaman by the throat. “Foolish. What a waste,” she hissed. “You will die in as much pain as I can give you. I was not to reveal myself for many years, if ever. You will pay for that, animal,” she scowled, as acidic green magic wormed its way from her fingers and into his pale blue flesh. From her hand on his throat, the vile green magic spread, darkening the shaman’s veins as it entered his bloodstream on its way to his heart. His eyes bulged from the pain and his teeth ground together as he tried to suppress the intense agony rushing through his veins. To the Orotaq, to cry out during death is the same as begging for mercy. There was no greater shame or disgrace.
Knowing this,
Kyah poured more magic and suffering into his body with every ounce of power she had hidden for almost a year, hoping to see the disgrace in the shaman’s eyes. Realizing he would not scream, and not wanting to risk discovery, she slipped her left hand to the back of the shaman’s head.
“Auka orka.” The two words of demonic power suffused her body with immense strength and she snapped his neck like a dry twig. The shaman fell without a wound on his body. The shaman’s neck, thicker than a five-year-old bull’s, was broken and twisted like a rotted twig.
“Shit,” she whispered. “Fucking bastard Orotaq.” With no way to explain what happened, she dragged the shaman’s body past Kael to the nearest tree and sat him back against the base. Wrapping her kinrai chain around the shaman’s thick neck, she tossed both lengths behind the tree. Standing at the rear of the tree, Kyah picked up both lengths and used the tree as a brace while she sawed the chain across the shaman’s neck. It took a handful of seconds before she felt the head fall from his neck and her chain dig into the tree. Freeing her chain, she admired her handiwork.
“Good enough. Haeger bal,” she mumbled. Passing her right hand over her face and down her left side, a gentle fire scorched her flesh. The heat popped and split her skin, leaving blackened scorched marks, crackled flesh, and raw blisters across her left arm and ribcage. After a lifetime of suffering, her face merely twitched at the grievous pain, but to others it would look like she had fought the shaman to near death before winning. It would also give her a reason to force Kael to try and heal her. His lack of earth-bond magic had been disappointing at best, yet his death magic was frightening, even if it was unpredictable. Satisfied her story would be believable, she dropped to Kael’s side to make sure he was alive.
