Harvest Tournament (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 2)

by Edmund Hughes

  The group formed into a long marching line as they left the city through the gates. Hal pushed his way up toward the front of it, not out of a desire to lead, but out of a need for distraction. He wanted to focus himself on the fight to come. He didn’t want to think about the golden helm and the man who’d worn it for the tournament, or the one it had belonged to originally.

  There will be time for that later. I can’t do anything with the information right now.

  Even still, the knowledge stirred a deep, unfocused anger from the depths of Hal’s chest. He was looking forward to fighting, more than he should have been. One of his hands fidgeted against the hilt of his short sword. His heartgem was still running low on ruby essence, and he’d need to trust in his sword skills to make it through the day.

  The cemetery was almost within sight of Meldence, just beyond a few sprawling farms to the west. The perimeter of guards set up around it was spread wide and undermanned. Hal saw relief in the guard captain’s face as the line of militia drew in closer.

  The cemetery itself was a simple field of gravestones intermingled with a few larger mausoleums belonging to specific Great Houses. The largest one, with Great House Wilde’s family crest chiseled over the entrance, was missing its doors. It was easy enough to tell from the way it drew the attention of the guards that it was the one that led underground.

  “Take a torch!” shouted the guard captain. “Enter in teams of eight. If for any reason you need to split up, do it in pairs! The gold stipend will be higher for those who volunteer to go first.”

  Hal ended up in the third group, along with Hogblade, who had an odd smile on his face whenever he looked in his direction. Hal watched as the first group entered, each of the warriors almost seeming to be swallowed by the darkness of the crypt as they entered.

  They prepared their torches, dipping them into the fire the guard captain had set up. Hal planned on using his to provide a catalyst for his ruby magic as much as could, but was ready with his pistol and spark ring if it came down to it.

  The second team entered the catacombs, and a few minutes after that, Hal’s group was up. He took up a position in the middle of the line and marched into the mausoleum, ducking his head under the low ceiling as they entered the underground tomb.

  The first hallway forked twice in less than fifty feet. Hal’s group stayed together, going left at each intersection, and soon the light from the entrance was out of sight behind them. The air had a stale, sour smell to it, and the crypt was suspiciously quiet, given that there should have already been sixteen warriors and an unknown number of undead moving throughout it.

  “How extensive are these catacombs?” asked Hogblade.

  “Nobody knows for sure,” said the tall, spear wielding warrior at the front of their column. “They were built decades ago. We risk getting lost if we aren’t careful.”

  “Keep taking lefts each time the hallway splits,” said another man. “It will make it easier for us to find our way back.”

  Everyone in the group nodded, and they continued forward, pushing through cobwebs and passed an uncountable number of coffins and cremation urns. There was an unnaturally cold breeze coming from ahead of them, inviting them to shiver from the chill, if not from fear.

  “Wait!” whispered Hogblade. “Do you hear that?”

  They were at an intersection where the hallway split off into three different paths. Far distant screams were coming from the right most one, frantic echoes of the start of the underground battle.

  “We should head after them,” said the spearman. “This is a joint operation. We should try to help when we can.”

  “We’re taking lefts,” said another man. “It’s what we agreed on.”

  “The whole point is for us to exterminate the husks,” said Hogblade. “I think-”

  Multiple husks leapt onto the group from the centermost path, catching them by surprise. Hal already had his sword out and thrust it through the chest of the one who’d set its sights on him. To his horror, it continued struggling, sliding down the length of his blade as it reached for him with its long, disgusting fingers.

  More husks rushed at them from the same hallway. Hal saw one of the younger men in the group miss a stab with his dagger and immediately take a bite to the neck. Hogblade cut through the husk attacking the boy, but it was already too late.

  Hal kicked the husk on his sword backward, decapitating it as he freed his sword. Several more husks, these ones more skeletal and aged in form, pushed down from the left hallway. Hal, Hogblade, and the others that could still stand were forced down the rightmost path, toward where they’d heard the screams earlier.

  This is chaos. We ran in blind.

  Panic spread through the group like an infection. Husks surged after them, turning their raid into a desperate, claustrophobic struggle toward safety. Hal was still in the middle of the group, and the men behind him alternated between pushing him forward and trying to pull themselves in front of them.

  “Keep moving!” screamed one of the men the back. “Keep… Aghhh!”

  A spray of warm blood shot splattered onto Hal’s cheek as a husk slammed blackened teeth into the neck of the man next to him. He stabbed with his sword, aiming for the husk, but suspecting that it would have been more merciful to finish off the doomed warrior.

  The front section of his group had split off from him in the few seconds he’d been standing still. Hal had no idea how many of them were even left capable of fighting. At least four had fallen, by his count. Another husk charged from the darkness behind him. Hal threw caution to the wind, drawing upon what little ruby essence he had to cast Flame Blast off his torch.

  The fireball struck the approaching husk full in the chest, filling the air with the smell of singed, rotting flesh. No more came at him from that direction, but whether it was because all of the undead nearby had been defeated, or respected fire as a weapon, he had no idea.

  He was left alone in the hallway, aside from the corpses of both allies and enemies. He couldn’t see the torchlights of his group members that had rushed ahead. Hal was on his own, and the more he turned that thought over in his head, the more terrifying he found it to be.

  CHAPTER 41

  Hal attempted to retrace his group’s original path into the catacombs, to no avail. At some point during their frantic flight away from the first group of attacking husks, they’d taken a few random turns. He tried to navigate using blood stains and corpses, but it stopped being a sensible strategy as he came across the bodies of other warriors who hadn’t been with is group.

  He forced himself to stay calm, knowing that if he started panicking, he would be surrendering to whatever fate had in store for him. He thought of the last time he’d been in a similar situation, back when he’d pushed through the caves north of Fool’s Valley with Zoria and Vrodas.

  I never realized how much having them along gave me courage…

  Still, the memories gave him strength to draw from. He still had his sword and pistol, along with a lit torch. He was nearly as well equipped as he could be, and even if he was alone, there were others in the catacombs, fighting toward the same goal.

  Slowly, Hal began to navigate the halls of the dead. He chose paths at random, no longer having any incentive to track his path. He listened at every intersection, occasionally choosing to head toward or away from the sounds of battle.

  The catacombs were far more massive than he’d originally realized, and over the course of the next hour, he didn’t come across a single enemy or ally. He pushed further into the dark tunnels, the silence growing with every step he took. He worried that he might be heading toward something more dangerous and evil than he was prepared for, but saw no other choice than to keep going.

  Something moved in the darkness ahead of him as he came to the next intersection. Hal brought his sword to the ready, waving his torch back and forth for illumination as he continued forward. He heard a scratch against the stone tunnel and flinched back. A large r
at walked into the sphere of his light, glanced up at him, and then continued on its way.

  He heard footsteps beyond the rat, combined with heavy, inhuman breathing. Hal considered trying to run before deciding that it would only get him killed faster. The monster stepped into view, and from its shadowed outline, Hal knew instantly that it was no regular opponent.

  The Alpha Husk. The one I fought on that night with Zoria.

  It watched him, sizing him up. Its eyes reflected the light of Hal’s torch, though they still managed to look black and empty. Hal feinted forward with his sword, channeling essence from his heartgem and preparing to cast a spell as he did.

  The Alpha Husk backed off, disappearing back into the shadows. It was the smartest thing it could have done, and it made the hairs on Hal’s neck stand up straight. He waited, not wanting to waste his ruby essence on a spell into the dark. He couldn’t hear it moving, and had no idea where it was.

  Hal started forward again, taking slow steps, sweeping the torch back and forth in time with the frantic pounding of its heart. He felt as though the monster could sense his fear. As though it knew that it would be a more effective strategy to attack his psychological state, rather than his body.

  “Come on!” said Hal. “Come get me! Don’t waste my time!”

  There was no response. He continued forward into the tunnel, too paranoid about being attacked from behind to consider turning back. He expected to find an intersection, or some other easy ambush point, but there was nothing. And then, a thought hit him. The ceiling was higher in the section of the tunnel he had just walked into.

  Hal looked up as the Alpha Husk dropped down. Its long, disgusting fingers were outstretched to the sides, creating a net of appendages to wrap him into. He rolled, barely managing to get out of the way of the first attack.

  He swung his sword in a furious series of slashes, cutting off one of the monster’s fingers and forcing it to fall back. He hurriedly pulled his heartgem out of his shirt without letting go of his sword, and then using the torch as his source, he channeled essence and pushed into a Ruby Trance.

  Hal did not lack for thoughts to fuel his passion. He was angry with the monsters, both for how they plagued the city, and how they terrified him. He was annoyed by whoever’s plan it had been originally for him and the other warriors to head into the catacombs in such small, untrained, ineffective groups.

  And most of all, he was furious with himself. Because more and more, he relied on his heartgem, and more and more, it fueled him into making stupid, rash decisions. He’d killed a man for revenge without taking the time to understand the situation. He’d been so mad, and it had been so easy for him to give in to rage and hate, and the heartgem had rewarded him with power for it.

  The Alpha Husk was preparing to attack again, but Hal barely noticed. He was deep in his Ruby Trance, and more importantly, he could feel something beyond it. The more he leaned into his emotions, the closer it was. Another level of power, one that promised untold strength and unhindered casting, called out to him.

  Ruby Ascension… I can push into it if I want!

  And Hal was about to, when the Alpha Husk made its move. It charged forward, throwing its arms out to the side and gnashing its teeth like a rampaging, violent animal. Hal whipped the tip of his sword up, reacting to that basic impulse to fend off a crazed beast.

  But the Alpha Husk was smart. As soon as he had extended his weapon, it ducked down, making itself small and rolling under his guard. Hal had a torch in one hand and his sword in the other, and could only watch helplessly as the Alpha Husk seized the heartgem in its long fingers and tore it loose from his neck.

  It threw in a vicious headbutt for good measure, its forehead slamming into the side of Hal’s face. He stumbled back, brandishing his torch and feeling as though a significant part of his being had just been gutted out of him. His emotions were suddenly hollow, and his awareness reached for a reservoir of ability that wasn’t there anymore.

  The Alpha Husk seized one of his arms and slammed him into the stone wall of the tunnel. The wind pushed out of Hal’s lungs. He attempted a feeble cut with his sword and missed. He tried to burn the monster with the fire of his torch, but the Alpha Husk was quick and full of energy.

  It swooped in again, this time grabbing Hal by the scruff of his shirt and attempting to pull him into biting range. He stabbed desperately with his sword, over and over again, hitting air each time as the monster dodged with inhuman speed. He saw the creature’s teeth, its mouth opening wide enough to snap a human’s jaw hinge, and knew that he’d missed his chance to escape.

  A strange sound came from behind him, along with a flash of movement. A dark silhouette the size and shape of a bird slammed into husk’s head, scratching and biting until the monster was forced to release Hal and defend itself with its fingers. Hal stared in numb shock as Karnas landed on the floor between him and his undead opponent.

  He didn’t allow his surprise to stop him from seizing the moment. He lunged forward, slamming his sword into the Alpha Husk’s abdomen before it could fall back into its fighting rhythm. The monster let out a scream of pain, and he wasn’t done. He pulled his sword free and put all of his strength into a savage side slash, severing head from body.

  The creature spasmed as it fell to the ground. Hal found his heartgem in its hand, the cord tangled around its fingers. The gem itself was covered in husk blood. Hal wiped it off on his shirt, trying not to think about what Lilith would say if she saw how dirty he’d let her gift to him become.

  “Karnas…” whispered Hal. “What in the world are you doing down here?”

  The young dragon made a self-satisfied yawning noise and jumped back into the air, beating its wings and hovering in place. If he’d been much bigger, the hallway wouldn’t have been able to support his wingspan. The thought made Hal realize just how much Karnas had grown in the time since he’d been hatched.

  A rumbling noise came from overhead, followed by a shower of rock dust. Hal took a step forward, grabbing Karnas and running as the sound intensified. The ceiling groaned, and the hallway behind them collapsed in a sudden waterfall of rock and earth. It cut off the way back, though given how little direction Hal already had, it didn’t seem to matter.

  “We’ll keep going forward, then,” he said, giving Karnas an appreciative look. “Sound good?”

  The dragon lifted up into the air again, and then landed on Hal’s back, letting its claws settle onto his shoulders so that he could effectively ride on his chosen human. It was a little ridiculous, and Hal wondered if the baby dragon had done it intentionally to lift his spirits.

  CHAPTER 42

  Hal continued into the darkness at a cautious pace, wary of both the risk of another husk attack and the risk of a cave-in. His torch had burned down to the handle, and he was forced to discard it after a couple of minutes of having the hairs on his fingers singed by the sinking flame.

  Without a proper light source, the catacombs were pitch black. It made little difference to him, however. He kept his hand on the wall, stopping to listen every few feet for the sound of rushing air or shouting voices.

  He heard something eventually. It wasn’t the frantic screams of his fellow warriors, or the low groans of the undead. It sounded like conversation, a simple back and forth between two voices.

  The tunnel curved, and as Hal came around the bend, he saw a blue glow in the distance. He slowed his pace, moving as quietly as he could. A robed figure came into view within the chamber ahead of him, along with something he’d never seen before.

  The center of the room held a circle of small crystals, each of them connected by a long, thin chain. The crystals were somehow projecting the image of a woman within them. Her form was blurry, half the size it would have been normally, and made of ghostly blue light.

  But even still, the woman was gorgeous. It was impossible to tell the color of her hair or clothing from the projection, but her face was timelessly beautiful, and her eyes were pi
ercing in their intensity. She was an elf, judging by her ears, and she wore a regal dress that clung to her tightly, accentuating her generous hips and bust. A crown sat atop her head, and decorative chains connected it to an intricate choker around her neck.

  She was speaking to the other figure, the one who was physically present in the room. The robe the figure wore made it hard for Hal to discern much detail, though he could tell that it was a man from the tone of his voice. Slowly, he drew to the edge of the chamber, just outside of the sphere of light given off by the woman’s projection. Both used the eklid language, and it took Hal a couple of seconds to focus on the syllables and understand them.

  “Do you think it likely then, your highness?” asked the robed man.

  “No,” said the woman.

  “It seems as though it would be rash to totally dismiss the possibility,” said the robed man. “Does it not?”

  The woman in the projection had a strange expression on her face. Her eyes seemed as though they were focused, and yet distant at the same time. Hal felt a chill run through him as he stared at her, his heart pounding hard enough to seem audible.

  “The Ardstone family may have a rebellious history, but I choose my confidants well,” said the woman. “If the heartgem had been recovered, it would be in my hand, Mabron.”

  Hal stiffened. He’d slipped the heartgem into his pocket after the husk had broken the cord, and his hand went to it instinctively. Karnas’ claws dug into his shoulders a little deeper, mirroring his own tension.

  “Of course, your majesty,” said the man. “Far be it for me to doubt the truth of your judgement.”

  “The rumors of Aangavar’s death are more concerning to me,” said the woman. “He had the eggs of his brood mate with him on the surface, and we never got a count on them. That could mean several potential dragons born out of pocket.”