Kraken Killjoy (Son of Fire Book 2)

by Aaron Crash

  Her: “I don’t understand. And I don’t understand this leveling thing. You are level four?”

  Me: “Yes, I’m level four.”

  Her: “I must be at least twenty times your level. That puts me at level eighty. Which means I should be able to understand this skill tree business. Since I don’t, I don’t believe in it.”

  I was still a little bleary from the booze, the lack of sleep, my crazy prophetic dreams, and the memory of Jared. All of it had put in me a grumpy mood. However, like I said, I’d leveled, and I had to decide on my next category of spells.

  I pulled up the Five Magics Skill Tree, but I didn’t need to look at it long. After all the sex, my shakti was full, which meant my atma was whole again. That was nice to know. As for the next spell category to unlock, I knew I only had one real choice. “I’m going to improve my Agni. I’m not the son of stone. I’m the son of fire.”

  Figg sighed. “Rhee isn’t here to call you a ‘son of a bitch.’ I have done it. I am not happy about it.”

  I’d mastered the Agni Trick category, which brought me to the Agni Armor. I truly hoped that with Agni Attack, I would be able to breathe fire. But I had to crawl before I could walk.

  We went outside to the balcony. Figg cast an Uma Trick to sweep wind around us to take us down to the cobblestone street. There, I practiced the magic. “Agnaat injit!”

  Fire swirled around me. In the shadows, I was armored in flame. However, I could feel my skin reacting to the magic. A word came back to me. DarkArmor. That was a Dragonsoul ability, but it wasn’t the big magic that lay locked away in my Anjagar Dayva. No, this was far simpler.

  I adjusted the shakti flowing out of me. Then I shifted my right arm so I had scales. Those scales thickened until I was a misshapen monster, part human, part dragon right arm, all bathed in flames.

  “You can use the normal trigger words,” Figg explained. “Agnaat injit is fine. However, some prefer to specify the categories. Like so. Agnaat gatravaraṇa!” She created a wall of fire in front of me.

  I remembered that in ancient Sayskritch, the five categories of magic were called the ancha catagraffa. Trick was kutakarman and armor was gatravaraṇa—those were the first two. There were other really long, really complicated words as well.

  “I’ll stick with making this simple,” I said. “I like your fire wall.”

  She dispelled the flames and cast another spell, to create a shield of fire. “Thusly, we can armor ourselves with the elements. However, as you know, fire is not my specialty. I prefer water and air.”

  “Because those have more summoning components to them.”

  She gave me an approving nod. “You have learned something after all. I’m glad for that. Agni is mostly for combat. It can be powerful, but there is not a lot of elegance there. It is not subtle.”

  “A more elegant magic from a more civilized time.” The quote came to me easily. Because both Jared and his sister Tessa loved Star Wars.

  Figg didn’t respond. I got that a lot—baffled silence.

  I pulled up my skill tree again.

  I saw my added ability on the Agni branch. It was nice that the Agni Armor category also gave me DarkArmor. So, some of my dragon powers were available to me without me mastering every little thing. That was nice to know. I was anxious to level again, and I wondered what concentration ink would do for me.

  A thought struck me. “Figg, what if tattoos don’t work on my skin? The water brand failed to mark me.”

  She came over and touched my arm. “You already have a tattoo there. You call it your hurricane circle.”

  I nodded and wondered about that tattoo—it was important, but I didn’t know how or why.

  Rhee finally caught up with us. We grabbed our stuff and walked out beyond the western gate. I wasn’t going to take off from my brothel balcony, not with two passengers, when my flying was still a little iffy. That hadn’t been the case back on Earth. However, I’d had a different soul back then.

  Just an FYI, getting a new soul shoved up your butt hurts your flying.

  We stood out in front of the western gate with our supplies and a very nervous Finniwigg Nightshine. She had her bident and net tangled together and strapped down, slung over her back, and she was frowning.

  I was a majestic mostly black dragon standing on the dirt.

  Rhee had her big feathered hat pulled over her eyes. She was drinking water from a flask, or at least I thought it was water. I had encouraged her to rehydrate. She was hurtin’ for certain.

  Clearing her throat, the elf winced. “Finniwigg, you’ve flown with Axel before. This shouldn’t be an issue for you.”

  “I know, it shouldn’t be, but I’m still scared.” Figg took a deep breath. “Very well. I will ride on the left. You ride on the right. And then he can carry our gear with his back paws.”

  “Claws. But yes.” I lowered my big body down to the ground.

  From the walls, Geeze called down. “Farewell, my friends. I will learn more about the merfolk and the vendettas. Come back as soon as you can. You have walls to build.”

  Cheriela, Deela, and Monala were there with him as well as the priest, Bragg Bharta. The big-bellied archaka called to us. “May the Dapta Deevas guide you on your journey. May you know the blessings of the seven virtues: chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility.”

  Rhee snorted at the mere mention of chastity.

  Figg gave her a nasty look. She then raised her left arm, covered in concentration ink. “Thank you, honored archaka. We accept the blessings of the seven angels. May they water the Tree of Life forever!”

  That made the priest smile like only a priest can smile when one of their flock gets all the words right.

  “Bye, people!” Deela shouted. “Don’t die. Come back powerful. And whatever you do, don’t piss off any of the Wynnym. The girls are bad. The boys are worse. And the Stallion King is the worst!” She waved enthusiastically.

  That made Rhee grumble. “I hate people who don’t get hangovers.”

  With the two women on my back, I took a running start, got myself in the air, and then sailed around, aimed, and plucked our bags up with my back claws. Then I was racing away from Foulwater. The sun was blazing across the grasses of the plain.

  I banked around again to get a last look at our town. I knew Figg would appreciate it. The walls were grand in front of the half-timbered buildings of the city, which now had people, smoke, and life. Shepherds with herds were on both the northern and southern hill. I could make out a few buildings in town, like the dome of Tiajati College, the Temple of the Seven Angels, and Geeze’s Perch in the back. The hintala trees were a green blanket beyond his tower. Farther? Sunlight twinkled off the green waters of Foulwater Bay.

  I did a quick scan for Dryx, both hoping I’d see the winged woman and dreading it. I had the feeling, though, she would follow us, unseen somehow.

  As for Figg’s discomfort with flying, I didn’t feel her moving around, and she didn’t call out in fear. My summoner was tough.

  We flew onward over the rolling hills of green and yellow. Some of the grasses were thicker and drier than others. There were ponds, and that was where the greenery collected. Tall water-fed grasses swayed. I found Dvey’s Road. It was a ragged line of what looked like obsidian cutting through the grass as well as hills, knifing forward as straight as a Kansas highway.

  Cheriela had told me about Dvey’s Road. Back when Foulwater had been important, he’d cut it right down across the landscape, torching grasses and blasting through hills. The fires had been awful, but in the end, they had a road of hard black stone. Dvey’s Road connected Sweetleaf to the Yellowmud River. We’d fought the last of the Kankar on a far more normal road that connected an old river keep turned trading outpost to the gates of our town.

  I was weighted down, and the flying was tiring. A headwind wasn’t helping us. When the clouds in the sky collected in the later afternoon and lightning struck in the distance, I fl
ew lower. When I saw a copse of trees, I thought that would be a nice place to weather out the coming storm.

  I dropped the gear first, into some tall yellow grasses, and then spun around and landed, without embarrassing myself too much. Rhee slipped off, followed by Figg, who hit her knees. I expected her to start kissing the ground.

  I shifted, and the sheath for the stone staff went from being a bracelet to a shoulder strap. I took out the Calcifax staff and drew rocks up out of the grass. The ground shook, and dust and dirt showered down, but I arched the stone to make a shelter between two trees. At the center of the copse was a fountain that I’d missed. It gurgled happily, bringing up water from a hidden aquifer.

  I created stone benches for us to sit on. That was where Rhee and Figg went, breaking out some leftover lobster sandwiches. Figg threw me my pants. I know the pirate elf wouldn’t have done such a thing. She liked seeing me naked.

  I was going to have to figure out magic to let me shift with clothes on.

  With pants on, I decided to check out the road instead of the fountain. I walked away from my stone archway and down a dirt path to the obsidian highway. We hadn’t been the first people to stop here. It was like a Xiddian rest area. I wanted a clean bathroom, free coffee, and maybe a few cookies left there by the local rotary club. No such luck.

  The dirt was soft under my toes. The grass smelled good. Overhead, thunder rumbled, and the air had that nice rain-is-coming scent.

  I walked onto Dvey’s Road. The demon king must’ve been unimaginably powerful. He’d created five hundred miles of a perfectly smooth road. It was like polished stone, or glass, totally black. Weeds and grasses had cracked the edges, but the center was completely intact, though it was centuries old.

  This would’ve made travel far easier, and yet, merchants had to be careful of the Kankar herds. Yes, Dvey had created the Nectar Empire’s Department of Transportation, but he’d created the Department of Twisted Fucking Monster Creations as well.

  The Kankar were thanks to Dvey’s mutations. Countless lives had been ruined by the demon deer men. Was Dvey more demon than king? Geeze would say so—he’d come from Rax, the continent to the east, across the Uchina Sea, a thousand years ago to fight the Pentakorr.

  I felt eyes on me. Turning, I wasn’t surprised to see Dryx standing there behind me. She’d picked up a purse from someone, probably stole it from a local fisherwoman. It did have that stained I-hold-trout look.

  From inside it, she pulled out something small, too small for me to see, and slipped it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed.

  Rain spotted the obsidian in big splatters, first a few, then more, and then both Dryx and I were heading to my shelter. I had to smile. Dryx had come back, and I’d caught her eating one of those seeds. Did I really want to know what they were?

  Chapter Eleven

  I COULD’VE MADE THE birdseed joke, but I showed some restraint. Both Dryx and I were forced up the path to the shelter I’d made. We hunkered down there with Figg and Rhee, who sat across from me and Dryx on the other stone bench under the rough rock archway.

  Next to me, the winged woman sat primly with her wings tucked away and the satchel on her lap. She looked like a grandma on a bus with her purse full of Red Lobster cheesy biscuits. The idea of cheesy biscuits wasn’t helping me focus.

  Rain splattered down, and it didn’t look like it was going to be letting up any time soon. The grasslands were lost in a chill mist. The scent of the wet weeds deepened. Water dripped off the top of my shelter. It was clear I was going to have to make some improvements, and then maybe scavenge firewood. I didn’t think we’d be flying off in that rain.

  Rhee glanced at the winged woman and then at the sorceress, who were gazing at each other. “What are you two doing?”

  “I’m waiting for her to talk. You can talk, correct?” Figg asked.

  Dryx’s aquamarine eyes were bright but troubled. She nodded.

  My summoner squinted at her. “A nod is not words.”

  “Ugly,” Dryx said in her very matter-of-fact, slightly accented voice. “I am having trouble looking at you. You are very ugly, Finniwigg. Axel isn’t human, though like now, he can pass as one. I have to remember him with wings. As for the Myrran woman, I really only look at her ears. It makes it easier. Also, I saw her in the act of lovemaking. I can remember watching her come. That also makes it easier.”

  Rhee put out her hands. “See, Finniwigg? We have all the words now, and we all are in agreement that I like to orgasm. So we can chat, then we can have sex, and then we can fly to Sweetleaf.”

  Dryx made a face. “The storm will not pass soon. The clouds are tamya in nature, and that means the electric claws will try and catch us as the sky shouts in anger. Sky blood will drip. Sky spirits will moan. We should wait for it to pass.”

  Figg’s eyes flashed. She wanted this quest over and done with and there wouldn’t be any delays. She about exploded but Rhee grabbed her hand and pushed a finger against my summoner’s lips. “No need to shout, Finniwigg. Dryx says the sky will do all the shouting for us.”

  I had to think. It was a full day of flying to get to Sweetleaf. Breaking that up wouldn’t be so bad. It was Tuesday, and thanks to Geeze’s divination magic, we knew the next merfolk attack was coming on Monday. We still had six days. I didn’t want to push our luck flying home at the last minute, and we still had to move silt, water, and rock to make our eastern wall.

  The winged woman sat straighter. “I wrote Dryx in the dirt because I wasn’t sure if the dragon man was literate, and I wanted a short word. But really, you monkey bones shouldn’t call me that. I am Lalindryx Nagina Pjolin.”

  Rhee got a goofy look on her face. “Nagina? That sounds like—”

  “Easy, Rhee.” I stopped her before she said something we might all regret. We didn’t need to be teasing our new winged friend about her middle name.

  Dryx scowled. “You should call me Her Ascended Majesty, Lalindryx Pjolin, but perhaps you would have trouble saying that. Dryx will be fine. In fact, I think I might enjoy such a familiar name spoken by such strange wingless creatures as yourselves. It is close to what my friends called me in Al-Mawkwa-Takka.”

  Figg’s mouth dropped. “Lalindryx Pjolin? Are you related to the great hero Sinaj Pjolin? And your first name, Lalindryx. I studied another hero of your people, Lalindra Namenri. I thought to summon her to rescue my village.”

  I raised my hand. “She got me instead. Lucky girl.”

  Dryx harrumphed. “No, Axel, Lalindra Namenri saved this world from the evil dragons, and then from the demons, and still lives, somewhere, on another world, sleeping until she is needed again. Finniwigg would be lucky to have summoned her.”

  “I was awake,” I pointed out. “And together we saved the town. I’m counting that as lucky.”

  My dream came back to me. A skill tree or a luck tree? That was the question that Eggero Khel had posed to me. The answer was clearly a little bit of both.

  Figg didn’t want to talk about any of that, because she gave me a pissed-off look. It was obvious my summoner wanted more information about Dryx.

  The angel girl continued. “I was named for Lalindra. I have spent my entire life trying to live up to her legend. As for Sinaj Pjolin? She is my ancestor, and we spoke of her often. We had a shrine to her in our wassi. That is our word for house.”

  Figg slipped off the bench and knelt at Dryx’s feet. She took the woman’s strong hand in hers. “Lalindryx Nagina Pjolin. I am very honored to meet you. To speak to you. We don’t know much about your people. Please, tell us more.”

  Dryx shook away the hand and turned her head. “Yes, Finniwigg, I will tell you, but please, it’s hard for me to look on you. And your touch sickens me.”

  My summoner made her way back to the seat and sat down. I was glad to see Figg wasn’t taking much of what Dryx said to heart. Any girl drama right then would’ve sent me out foraging for wood. We had fresh water, thanks to the fountain burbling deeper in th
e little copse of trees. I wanted to check it out once we got more of Dryx’s story.

  Rhee laughed. “You didn’t mind her touch when she saved you, Dryxie.”

  “Lalindryx, Myrran slut!” the winged woman barked. “And if that is too much trouble for you to say, then Dryx is fine.”

  “Lalindryxie Vagina Pole-In-Me,” Rhee said, smiling. “And aye, angel girl, I am a Myrran slut. And proud of it. You seemed to like it when you were riding our man.”

  Dryx flushed, speechless.

  Figg sighed. “Rheesee, please. Be nice. Lalindryx comes from a faraway land. She is descended from a great hero, from a great race, from an advanced civilization. I am nothing compared to her.”

  Dryx loved all that. “Thank you, Finniwigg. As for you, Rheesee, I was short with you. I apologize. I am not used to being addressed by a lesser person. Your Raxian relatives, the high elves of the eastern forests, are a great civilization. The Myrra? Less so.”

  That tickled Rhee. “Much less so. So much less so. I am so much lesser. I have more orgasms though. A lot more than those arrogant, repressed, twisted-up old prunes living in their forests and writing fucking poetry no one reads. So much less so.”

  Dryx was about to break her face frowning. “You are jesting. Your elf is jesting with me. She says words but doesn’t mean them. Or she means the opposite of them. This lack of clear communication is wasting our time.”

  Rhee laughed more. Until Figg pleaded with her. “Rheesee, again, please.”

  My elf and I exchanged amused glances.

  I took control of the conversation, well, as much as I could. It was like wrestling with an alligator in Vaseline. “Tell us your story, Lalindryx. Tell us why you hate the merfolk so much. Did that black-bearded merman put you in the box?”

  She’d been giving us attitude, and she’d sat there like a queen, or a grandmother. But with my simple request, a look of fear hit her face. Anguish filled those aquamarine eyes. “I’m ashamed you saw me so weak. Before the box, I was... I was... Lalindryx Pjolin, a sky warrior of Al-Mawkwa-Takka, of the Pjolin Wassi. I served the sky king, and my kurrachiyya were as deadly as lightning, as swift as a north wind, as fast and as cold. We lived in the Urkwa Mountains, and I kept my people safe from the demon spiders, the demon ratwings, the hell knights, all from ancient Shapta. All from the kingly evil that once ruled all of the southern lands.”