One of them lunged forward, his toothy mouth converging on Squirrel’s position. Its mouth closed on a ball of lightning. It screeched and fell jittering, smoke rising from its burnt palate.
Squirrel ran, pulling more speed from Fist’s mace. He swung another blade of air and opened the stunned raptoid’s abdomen on the way. As its entrails uncoiled, the others followed the path of the attack. They ran after him, noticing the scattering sand under his soundless feet. The raptoids had lost three of their number but now had a way to smell him and to track him.
He was still faster than them, though. Squirrel led them on a pursuit along the edge of the cactus field, making sure that he was outside the radius of the wooden orb’s magic. He let up on his speed to be certain they were all following, then when they were almost on him, turned abruptly and darted into the cactuses hoping they would be foolish enough to follow.
Most of them stopped before entering the field. Only one went inside and it instantly realized its mistake. It stopped and tried to back out, but the edge of its tail struck the side of the cactus. The cactus’ needles pierced through the raptoid’s scales and the tall trunk of the cactus bent toward it reflexively, coiling around the creature. The raptoid screeched in pain and horror as it was dragged under the sand.
Squirrel’s friends heard the commotion and Fist’s panicked thoughts came to him through the bond. Squirrel, what are you doing?
Killing raptoids, he said. Four are dead so far.
Holy hell, thought Lenny.
Stop! Come back to us! Fist said, then let out a slow breath and forced the fear and anger out of his thoughts. I am proud of you. I’m sure you’ve scared them. Now please come back before you get hurt.
Squirrel shook his head as he circled back around behind the raptoid pack. You think I am too frail to fight. But you should trust me by now.
It’s not about whether I trust you or not, Fist argued.
Deathclaw’s thoughts cut in. How many are left? I counted twelve different chirps.
I saw ten, Squirrel said, then he saw two more come in from the desert to join the others and changed his assessment. No you were right. There were twelve. Now there are eight. I killed their deathclaw.
Impressive, Deathclaw said. It will not take long for a new one to be chosen, though. Be wary.
Should we go out there and help him? Lenny asked.
Squirrel, come back in and we’ll all fight them together, Fist said.
Squirrel darted out from a cluster of cacti behind the raptoids and sent a gust of wind out from the bottoms of his feet, launching him into the air. They’ll all be dead before you arrive.
He arced towards the shoulders of the rearmost raptoid and prepared two long blades of air as he went. He slashed out with the blades as he landed and they neatly severed its spine at the base of its head. The creature jerked and fell.
As Squirrel let go of the blades and jumped off of its body, a raptoid lashed out at him with its tail. By pure reflex, Squirrel brought up a shield of air in a solid sphere around him, but the weight of the tail hit the shield and sent him hurtling towards the cacti.
He struck one of the cactus trees and bounced off, striking another one before hitting the ground. The cactus trees were under the orb’s power and didn’t attack, but each impact slammed Squirrel against the inside of the shield. He felt something crack within him and, as he struck the ground, the shield dissipated. He tasted blood in his mouth and looked down. A long cactus needle was protruding from his belly. It must have penetrated his shield.
Fist felt the impacts. Squirrel!
Immediately, the ogre’s mind dove through the bond to assess Squirrel’s wounds. Why did you do this?
I’m sorry, Fist, he sent weakly.
Fist saw right away that the right side of Squirrel’s body was badly bruised. He had several broken ribs and one of them had pierced his lung. The cactus needle had pierced through his abdominal wall but hadn’t struck any vital organs.
He set to work on Squirrel’s worst injuries first, using his magic to mend the ribs and heal the hole in his lung. He was surprised how easy the repairs were and realized that Squirrel’s body was coursing with elf magic.
How did you-? Fist sighed. You have to remember that you are small and-and if you died . . . I couldn’t . . .
I suppose I don’t make a good deathclaw after all, then, Squirrel said bitterly.
Fist started to repair the hole in his abdomen. What are you talking about? You, a squirrel, killed five raptoids tonight. You’ve killed ogres, trolls, even a giant. I know you can fight.
Then why must you always tell me not to? Squirrel asked.
How many times over the years have we had this discussion? the ogre said. I don’t need you to be my deathclaw. I can fight. Rufus can fight. Isn’t it enough that you’re my best friend?
Squirrel felt Fist finish his healing. He sat up without the slightest twinge in his body and picked up the long cactus needle. It still had a smear of blood on it. I will always be your friend. But I am getting old. I want to fight while I still can.
But you always have to fight things strong enough to kill you in one hit! Fist argued. He felt Edge’s hand on his shoulder.
In a private part of the bond where Squirrel could not hear, Edge said, Both of you are right. There has to be a way for you to meet in the middle on this.
Fist nodded. But now isn’t the time to figure it out. He stood and turned to face the others. Aloud he said, “We need to kill the rest of those raptoids.”
“We must do it and fast,” Deathclaw agreed. “We are straddling the line between two territories and the noise of this battle will have been heard.”
“I got an idea how to do that,” Lenny said. He held out the round thing he had been fiddling with earlier. It was the paralyzing orb that the mercenaries had tried to use on them. “Somebody kicked it during the fight and there was a dent put in it, but I got the runes all lined up. All it needs is to be charged with magic.”
“That does take some of the fun out of it,” Fist said as he took the device in his hand and began pouring energies into it.
“That sounds fine to me,” said Edge. “Right now I just want to get out of this place.”
All seven remaining raptoids were waiting as the tribe exited the cactus field. Their new leader chirped out a command and the pack spread out, waiting for their prey to try and run. Edge lobbed the orb into the midst of them. A buzzing sound filled the air and the raptoids froze in place.
Fist turned to look at Squirrel, who had exited the field next to them. He looked dejected and was holding his little helmet in his hands. The ogre rested his heavy mace on his shoulder and said, “Well, Squirrel? Do you want to help me finish what you started?”
Squirrel perked up. He placed the helmet on his head. I will kill the three on the right.
Chapter Twenty Six
The Big and Little People Tribe – Alsarobeth
The desert was a torturous experience for Jhonate. She and Nod had weighted themselves down with water, but the way that the sun beat down on them from the moment they stepped onto the sand, she had known it wouldn’t be enough.
Nod pulled out the hand drawn map he had received from the wizard and imp pilgrims he had met at the tent city. Jhonate had known right away that it would be of little use. The map was very basic. The mountain was at the top of the map and their starting point at the bottom, but though there was a route drawn with a dotted line, there was no legend to give a sense of scale or distance. A few squiggly lines were drawn in to give an impression of dunes, but at the edge of the map was a warning that said dunes constantly shift with the wind.
The only things that were helpful were a few circled danger spots marked with numbers. One read, “Hot spot. Searing Sands.” Another read, “Not cactus field. Actually monster tongues!”
“Perhaps we should return to the city and come back better prepared,” she suggested.
“Naw, that won’t be necessa
ry, Sar!” Nod assured her with a smile, sweat dripping from his lip. “You read our letters from the Seer. All you need is your name and your artifact. Wif’ me here to help guide you, you’ll get there right as rain!” He winced up at the clear bright sky. “Could use some rain.”
Hours later, she was certain Nod was wrong. They had passed the bodies of dead pilgrims, large fearsome insects feasting on their carcasses, and came upon their first monster. A huge worm-like creature rose from the dune in front of them. It was covered in glittering scales and its circular maw was big enough to envelop both of them in one bite.
She had gotten in a defensive stance, her Jharro staff at the ready. But Nod had cowered behind her and shouted out for her to use her talisman. When the creature reared above them, she had drawn Tulos, her naming weapon. The dagger had gleamed a purer white than the sands around them and the red rubies on its hilt had pulsed with a power she didn’t understand. The monster veered away from them and dug its long body under another dune.
“See, Sar!” Nod had cried. “The seer was right!”
As they continued through the hot sands, Jhonate realized that as long as she had her dagger out of its sheath and held aloft, creatures would leave her alone. She didn’t like carrying it unsheathed because it meant she couldn’t use her staff effectively in case she did have to fight something off. Nod offered to carry it for her, but Jhonate thought of a better solution.
She caused the end of her staff to open up. She then slid the handle of Tulos inside and had the Jharro wood tighten around it. Her two weapons had now become one, a de facto spear.
They soon discovered that the protection given her by the dagger’s presence didn’t also apply to Nod.
A giant scorpion-like creature with a single large eye and two sets of pincers skittered over a dune and lunged at him. He managed to swing his leg out of the way of its pincers but its tail stinger plunged into his horse’s side and pumped it full of poison. The horse screamed and tried to run away, but the thing’s pinchers had latched onto its legs.
Nod had the presence of mind to grab his pack and a back of water before he jumped down. Jhonate tried to rescue the horse and a few swipes of her new spear caused the scorpion thing to back away, but it was two late. The horse collapsed and wouldn’t get back up.
Nod walked at her side for a while, but it soon became evident that if Nod took more than a couple steps away from her, the monsters would circle around to attack. Unfortunately, this meant that he had to ride behind her.
Jhonate had thus far escaped being in such close proximity to the man, but she had no choice. Every time something moved in the sands nearby, he would cling to her. It happened more often than she deemed necessary and she sometimes had to clout the man to get him to let go. He claimed that he hadn’t meant anything by it, and she understood that it was reasonable for him to fear for his life, but she had seen Nod in battle before. This was not a man who quavered in dangerous situations.
When night came, she planted the end of her staff in the ground and the two of them huddled around it, swaddled in blankets. During those long hours, Nod didn’t make any overt moves that would have caused her to eject him onto the sand, but he was constantly brushing up against her. Once again, she had to warn him to keep his hands, crippled and non-crippled alike, to himself.
As their water supplies dwindled, she took to an old Roo-Tan technique and began chewing certain herbs that she had brought along with her. They were often used as a cure for poison, but they also had the side effect of keeping thirst at bay. In the filthy swamplands of Malaroo, such things could often times save a warrior’s life and in this desert she was fairly certain it saved hers. While Nod ran out of water on the morning of the third day, she was able to make hers stretch.
They did their best to keep to Nod’s poorly drawn map, but it caused them to meander a bit from the straight line to the mountain that Jhonate so wanted to follow. The only time they were certain that the map had any accuracy was when they saw the field of cactus tongues in the distance on the afternoon of their third day. Using the field as a reference point, they reoriented themselves and made good time the rest of the day.
Just before they stopped for the night, Jhonate’s horse collapsed of heat exhaustion and died. They rescued what supplies they could from it and set camp. In the morning, just as they set off on foot, they heard chirping noises in the sands. Soon they were surrounded by creatures Jhonate recognized right away. A pack of raptoids encircled them, watching with curious eyes.
Jhonate feared that the power of her dagger wouldn’t be enough this time, but when they didn’t attack right away, she walked slowly towards them, Nod clinging to her cloak. They didn’t move until she was mere paces away. Then, slowly, they gave her space to walk between them. As they walked by, one of the creatures swiped its claws at Nod and he threw his arms around her.
She pointed her spear at the raptoid and it backed away. “Nod, if you do not relocate your hands right now, I will throw you to them,” she growled.
“I ain’t gonna try and fondle you at a time like this, Sar!” Nod protested, but he moved his hands down to her waist.
They made their way through the crowd of raptoids, but the pack followed behind them the rest of the morning, as if waiting for Nod to take two steps away from her. The raptoids didn’t leave until they took their first steps out of the desert sands and arrived at the base of the mountain at midday.
The air grew steadily cooler with each step they made away from the desert and soon, they had to bundle up to ward off a chill. They came upon a pathway that wove through the foothills and as they turned a corner, their goal came into view. Ascending the mountain, winding up the steep slopes was an ancient stone staircase.
“There they are,” said Nod excitedly. “The stone stairs of Alsarobeth!”
At the base of the stairs was a small waterfall and both of them rushed over to drink their fill of ice-cold water and refill their water bags. The water was so refreshing. Jhonate was reminded that she hadn’t been able to bathe in weeks. If Nod hadn’t been there, Jhonate would have stripped down and washed off under that waterfall, no matter how cold it was.
“So what do ya ’fink, Sar?” Nod asked, peering up at the stair. “Should we rest here and camp for the night or start up?”
Jhonate stretched and rotated her shoulders as she looked up at the long climb ahead of them. “I have no desire for this journey to last one day longer than it has to.”
She didn’t see it, but the smile Nod sent her way had a sense of menace to it. “You won’t get no arguin’ from me.”
Jhonate started up, but before Nod joined her, he stopped to take something out of his pack. It was a rectangular brick covered in complex runes. He sat it down not far from the stair and climbed up after her.
“What was that thing you left down there?” she asked.
“That was part of the deal I made with that wizard pilgrim fella back at the tent city. He gave me his worthless map, and I told him I’d leave his brick at the stairs of Alsarobeth. It’s a tradition for the man. He leaves one of those bricks at every holy site he can.”
“Why a brick?” Jhonate wondered as she resumed her climb.
“I asked him the same ’fing,” Nod replied. “Say’s it’s from his childhood home. He does it in memory his old dad. His story warmed my heart, I must say. I told him I’d be happy to do it.”
“I do not understand why a brick would remind a man of his-,” she began before a chorus of voices invaded her mind.
“Named one.” “So hungry.” “The seer . . .” “That dagger . . .”
The voices were loud, and she was certain she heard them in her ears as well as in her mind. The voices were full of emotion. Some were angry or ravenous, others were curious, wistful, or even reverent. “Do you hear that, Nod?” she asked.
“Feed us!” “Come closer.” “EAT YOU!” “Defender of the Grove . . .”
“Don’t listen to ’em!” Nod sn
apped. His crippled had was clutched protectively against his chest and he had drawn his sword with the other. “They lie!”
“Do not let the voices get to you,” she warned. “They are not talking about you. They are the guardians of this place.”
“Maybe you’re hearin’ some’fing different than me, Sar. It sounds very personal,” Nod replied.
“HATE!” “Dance with us . . .” “Hungry.” “Mother . . .”
The last one sent a shiver up her spine and as she looked up the mountainside, she saw a series of caves pockmarked the slopes. Strange figures were emerging from them. Suddenly, perching on a rock not far from her, she saw a bizarre creature.
It had the torso of a bear and stood on two hairly legs that ended in bird-like talons. Its arms were long and hairless with short fingernails and its head was that of a huge rat. In the middle of its broad chest, spreading nearly from arm-to-arm was an enormous mouth that opened to show sharp fangs.
***
Edge and his friends hurried through the desert, hoping to get as much distance between them and the cactus fields before the heat of the day overtook them. They hadn’t gone far before they heard the alarmed chirps of a second raptoid pack inspecting the bodies of the twelve that Fist and Squirrel had killed.
Will they come after us? Edge asked through the bond.
Deathclaw replied with a mental hiss. Yes. Though if we are fortunate, they will be careful. Any prey that can take down a pack like we did is one to be respected.
Lenny, who was taking up the rear on Albert, kept looking back over his shoulder. You sayin’ careful like, ‘Dag-gum, we better not mess with them folks,’ or careful like, ‘We’d better kill them sons of dogs ’fore they come after us?’
Careful as in they will decide how best to kill us after watching us awhile, Deathclaw replied.
Indeed, the signs that they were being followed continued into the early light of dawn. The raptoids didn’t show their faces, but their chirps were heard continuously. Some of them were questioning, others sounded like orders.
Sir Edge Page 30
