What are they saying? Fist asked.
They are wondering how creatures that smell like us were able to kill so many of their kind, Deathclaw replied.
Edge wasn’t thinking about what was behind them. His eyes were on the mountain looming ahead. At the pace they were going it couldn’t be more than a half a day’s ride away.
As the morning hours wore on, the heat grew until it was miserable even for those with protections. Lenny was once again hit the worst. For a while, he joked about removing Albert’s saddle and wearing it himself. Rufus was even complaining.
Hot! Ooh! So hot! he moaned. The rogue horse was slowing down, his tongue lolling from his mouth.
Artemus, Edge asked through the bond. Is there anything you can do for him?
The wizard gave it some brief thought. He is Fist’s bonded, and not directly connected with me, but if Fist will allow my magic entrance, I should be able to cool him. He sent complex threads of air and water magic into the rogue horse and Rufus shivered.
“Ooh ooooh,” he said, sighing in relief.
Got anythin’ fer me? Lenny hoped.
The kind of bond that the Jharro ring gives isn’t strong enough for me to pass a spell through, Artemus said apologetically. Then a thought occurred to him. Actually, there may be one thing we could try. Edge, can you give him Whisper?
Edge perked up in his saddle. He drew his great grandfather’s naming dagger from its sheath at his waist. The blue ice that filled the crack in the naming rune steamed in the hot air. He held it out to Lenny and as soon as the dwarf grabbed the handle, he gasped as the wizard’s magic rolled over him.
Frost came out of his mouth and he smiled widely. “Well, dag-gum! Ain’t never been so happy to be cold.”
It will only work as long as you hold the handle, Artemus told him.
Ain’t never lettin’ go, the dwarf promised.
The mountain loomed closer and closer and as the end of the desert was in sight, the chirps behind them grew in urgency. They’re coming, Deathclaw declared.
Edge ordered that they pick up the pace. Deathclaw jumped up onto Rufus’ back and they started to run. While they did so, Edge turned around to face the oncoming pack and drew his bow.
How many? he asked.
I tried to keep track but it was difficult, Deathclaw replied. Larger than the other pack.
I have twenty arrows, Edge replied. He strung the bow in one quick motion and drew an arrow from his quiver. I just have to keep them off of us until we reach the mountain. I don’t think they’ll follow us out of the desert.
Deathclaw didn’t disagree. They’ll run on either side of us and try to box us in. They’re faster than us. Rufus might be able to outrun them, but Albert is too hampered by this loose sand.
When the first raptoid appeared behind them, Edge was ready. The Jharro bow flexed as he fired, and the arrow darted faster than any normal bow could shoot. The arrow struck the running raptoid between the eyes and passed through its skull, continuing into the desert air beyond.
The animal tumbled dead to the ground and Edge drew another arrow, searching for his next target. Deathclaw pointed to their right where two more raptoids ran, flanking them. Edge lined up his shot on the larger of the two and put this arrow through its heart.
Lenny whistled. “Nice dag-gum shot!”
Edge drew another arrow, ready to fire again, but a chirp echoed out. The raptoids fell back. Evidently, they had decided that this particular prey wasn’t worth it.
No other major threats faced them as they approached the mountain. Nevertheless, when Albert and Rufus stepped out of the sand and stepped onto hard rock, everyone let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s already cooler,” Fist said with a smile and with every step, that fact was more evident.
“Now the question is where to start climbin’,” Lenny said, looking up at the steep slopes and sheer cliffs with trepidation. He had climbed mountains before, but it wasn’t the part of adventuring he was fond of.
“I can do it!” Rufus declared, looking at those same cliffs with delight.
The guardians would disagree. Artemus said through the bond. We must find the stairway. It is where Jhonate would have gone.
“Stairs,” said Lenny more cheerfully.
“We still may have to fight our way up them,” Edge warned.
“Perhaps not,” said Deathclaw. He was crouched next to a trailhead that led into the hills. “I found Jhonate’s scent. She was here recently. Not more than two hours ago.”
Edge’s heart leapt into his chest. So close! “Let’s hurry. We still may be able to catch her before they start their climb.”
They started up the path at a jog. With the trail this fresh, Deathclaw was able to follow her scent easily. The path moved up and down, but meandered very little and Edge soon caught a glimpse of the stairway that Artemus had spoken of in the distance. It wound its way up into the snow-covered slopes.
Edge focused his vision, hoping to perhaps catch a glimpse of his wife, and noticed that there were caves dotting the mountainside all around the stairs. Strange misshapen figures moved about on the slopes. “I see the guardians moving around up there.”
Someone has stirred them up, Artemus said.
Hurrying forward, they turned a corner in the path and the bottom of the stairway appeared. Standing in front of it was a glowing brick portal and several familiar figures. The Bash Brothers stood next to the Wizard Ghazardblast and the armored imp. The only unfamiliar person was a lanky seven-foot-tall gnome warrior with a shaved head The number three was tattooed onto the side of his skull and he carried short swords in each hand. In front of all of them standing with feet widely planted, was Lenny’s nemesis.
“Hey, Lenui!” shouted Vern. The dwarf was once again dressed in full platemail, but he was wearing a different helmet this time. It was covered in runes and painted red instead of the Earthpeeler family crest, the forehead was simply embossed with the letter ‘V’. He was holding Lenny’s throwing hammer in one hand.
“I got somethin’ to return to you!” Vern snarled and threw the hammer as hard as he could. The hammer left his hand and the magic took control, rocketing the weapon forward at incredible speed.
The head of the hammer struck Lenny square in the chest.
***
“Killer!” “EAT YOU.” “Dance . . .” “The seer!”
The mental calls of the guardians were incessant. However, the power of her dagger still seemed to keep them at bay. They prowled the mountainside and lined the trails, but none attacked. A few reached for Nod, but once again he stayed close enough to her to avoid them, keeping his good hand on her hip.
The guardians were a bizarre group of beasts. Actually, they were more of a mishmash of beasts. No one was the same as the other. Some had the heads of birds, some reptiles, others mammals of some kind. Their arms, legs, and torsos were just as diverse. The only similarities between them were the mindless expressions on their faces and the enormous toothy mouths in their torsos.
“I find it hard to fathom,” she said. “With those mouths in their chests, where are their hearts or lungs?”
“I doubt they have ’em, Sar,” answered Nod with a shaky laugh. “Can’t kill a guardian without a heart, can ya?”
“The Grove . . .” “Chew you!” “EAT!” “Named one.” “So hungryyy . . .”
The disturbing mental calls bothered her less and less as they climbed. They had become repetitive. The only ones that actually bothered her were related to the fact that she wanted to be a mother. She still had nightmares about the day that her baby had been taken from her, killed in her womb. But she was able to brush the attacks aside. She was doing something about that. Soon she would reach the top. Soon her curse would be gone.
Nod didn’t take the mental barrage as well as she did. He became more and more on edge as they went and sometimes he mumbled to himself. Because of the guardian’s voices it was hard to make out, but she was pretty sure he w
as just saying “Almost there” over and over.
The slopes around them were now coated in a thick layer of snow, but none of it was on the stairway. Each step was clean and dry and Jhonate wondered if there was magic that kept the stairs clear or if these monstrous guardians cleaned it themselves.
The climb continued as the afternoon passed and Jhonate continued to put one foot before the other, careful to keep her spear tip held aloft as the guardians lined the way ahead, waiting for a misstep. Her legs went numb, her hands trembled. She lost track of how long she had been climbing and then, suddenly, the stairway came to an end.
She found herself standing atop the mountain on a shelf so flat it was as if the tip of the peak had been sheared off by an immense blade. The edges of the shelf fell away into sheer cliffs on all sides, and running through the rear third of it was the barrier. It shimmered with a slightly greenish tint, blurring the details of the world on the other side.
In front of the barrier was a marble archway made of four curving stones. At the center of each stone was a seal that looked to be made of clay. One seal was white, one black, and the other two were gray. In front of the archway, in the center of the mountaintop shelf, was a large stone altar.
Sitting on the edge of the altar was an old man wearing a gray robe. The man’s dark skin was wrinkled, his hair white, and in his hands he held a folded piece of paper. He tucked the paper into his robes when he saw her.
“Seer Rahan?” she asked and was careful to make sure that she still felt Nod’s hand on her hip.
He gave her a resigned smile and slid down from the altar. He swayed on unsteady feet and took two steps towards her. “Ah, child. You came. What name did the Bowl give you?”
Jhonate blinked and showed him the rune on the back of her right hand. “I am Sar Zahara. I received your letter.”
“Zahara?” said the seer with a smile. “Ah yes. Very appropriate. An ancient name with many meanings. Trainer? Yes. Teacher? Yes. Commander? Yes. Did you know it also could mean mother?”
There was no mocking tone is his voice. Still, after the calls of the guardians, she winced. “Seer Rahan. I have come too far to be patronized.”
She felt a sting in her hip and Nod’s hand was gone.
“I meant no offense,” Rahan assured her.
“No, I think you were mockin’ the lady,” Nod said, appearing behind the seer. The old man jerked and Jhonate saw the pilgrim’s sword sprout from the center of his chest. Nod sneered and whispered into his ear, “Bet you didn’t see that comin’.”
“Nod!” Jhonate shouted in disbelief. She stumbled and had to hold on to her staff to keep her feet.
The seer turned his head to look at the man. “Oh, but I did. I foresaw your destruction in this place, Nod. Or should I say, Zeston? Your kind always meets a tormented end.” Nod’s eyes widened, and the seer gave his killer a wan smile. “Haven’t the voices in your head told you? You poor boy.”
With a snarl, Nod wrenched his sword to the side.
Before Rahan went limp, his eyes shifted to Jhonate. Their gazes connected, and a jolt went through her. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but it was as if something important had been given to her.
Chapter Twenty Seven
The Big and Little People Tribe – Mercenary
The throwing hammer struck the center of Lenny’s chest with a loud crack. Then it bounced to the ground. Grinning with relief, Lenny bent to pick it up. He kissed the head of it. “I’m glad to see you, Buster Junior One! I thought I’d lost you fer good.”
“Dag-blast it!” Vern swore.
The imp sneered in response. “You underestimated his armor again. I told you, it’s runed to repel impact. We went over this in preparation.”
“Shut yer trap, needle-mouth,” Vern growled, his glare focused on Lenny. “Shoulda thrown it at yer ugly face, Firegobbler!”
Grinning, Lenny pointed the throwing hammer at the dwarf. “I dunno how you got here, Vern, but I’ll tell you what. Since you was so kind as to return my hammer to me, I’ll give y’all a chance to turn yer gall-durn, ugly, corn-lickin’, arse-faces outta the way.”
“Please don’t make us kill you,” Fist added, his gaze focused on the Bash Brothers.
“That’s right,” said Lenny and he let out a tired laugh. “We just wanna get up the damn mountain.”
Vern scowled at the party and bellowed, “This is as far as you go!” With a confident sneer, he added, “What you see before you is a crew hand-picked to exploit yer every weakness. Either you turn around and head back into that desert or-.”
“Enough of this nonsense,” Edge said, stepping towards him with a look of smoldering anger. “Look, I don’t have time for your posturing. I’m tired. We’re all tired. We know you’re not gonna back down. Let’s get this fight over with so that I can go find my wife.”
Vern snorted in disappointment. “Fine. If yer in a hurry. Ghazardblast!”
The wizard signaled, and the mercenaries rushed towards their targets. The imp darted at Fist with a burst of speed, the gnome warrior ran at Deathclaw, and Vern strolled towards Lenny. Edge watched the wizard, preparing himself to defend against a magical attack.
The wizard noted Edge’s attention and thrust his staff into the air. He pointed his finger. Power pulsed from the staff and surged across his torso and down his arm. A complex weave of fire and air erupted from the wizard’s fingers, but instead of surging towards Edge, it moved out in a large grid-like pattern.
Walls of intense fire sprang from the ground, rising twenty feet in the air. Edge shook his head at the attempt for further delay. Ghazardblast had separated the combatants.
Edge turned around and saw that he and Rufus had been left alone in a wide quadrant with the Bash Brothers. He cracked his knuckles.
Deathclaw watched the gnome warrior’s approach with interest. The best fighter he had ever fought against was a gnome warrior named Cletus. When it came to fighting, Cletus was an unparalleled genius. When it came to anything else, he was as Lenny would say, dumb as rocks. Of course, gnome warriors were known for their low intelligence.
“What is your name, gnome?” Deathclaw asked as he drew Star from the sheath on his back.
The seven-foot-tall gnome didn’t reply, but rotated his bald head on his neck with a series of cracking noises. He twirled his swords in his hands.
“Can you not speak?” the raptoid hissed and wondered why the gnome had the number 3 tattooed on the side of his head. Was he the third in a series of mute gnomes?
The gnome lifted a short sword in each hand and bared his teeth at him. “I’m not paid to talk.”
Deathclaw cocked his head. Perhaps this bald gnome wasn’t as stupid as other gnome warriors. “Do you know a gnome warrior named Cletus?”
“I’m not paid to know Cletus,” the warrior replied and Deathclaw realized that he was stupid after all.
Then the gnome came at him and Deathclaw’s questions about the warrior ceased. There was only the fight.
“Alright, you gad-flamin’ moon-head,” Lenui said as Vern drew closer. “Why you gotta make me prove my point again? Yer just not good ’nough. I’ll admit that the Earthpeeler family’s got some good eggs in it, but none of ’em are you.”
Vern hefted his double-bladed battle axe. “I’m tired of yer insults and constant belittlin’. Ever’body knows yer just a loud-mouth who likes to strut around and think yer better than the rest of us.”
“I only think I’m better than you when yer around,” Lenui said. Actually, he kind of felt bad for Vern. “Listen here. I know it couldn’t’ve been easy to be an Earthpeeler in Corntown raised in the shadow of us Firegobblers. I can also see that it would’ve been hard to find yerself matched up against me at every turn. But dag-blast it, you fiddle-head, some of it was yer own fault.”
Vern guffawed. “It’s my fault that ever’where I went all I heard about was the great Lenui Firegobbler? The great new talent?”
“No, it’s yer f
ault that you couldn’t leave me the hell alone!” Lenui said. “I got no reason to try and keep ’nother dwarf down, but ever’where I went, you was there tryin’ to stub my dag-blamed toe! When I’d set up shop, you’d come in on the same blasted street. When I had my eye on a lady, you’d tell her nasty things ’bout me.”
“Never needed to do that,” Vern said. “Any lady with any smarts could smell you comin’!”
Lenui narrowed his eyes. “You told Adelaid Hillstomper that I shaved my own arse.”
Vern blinked. “That weren’t me. That was yer cousin Beveau.”
“Beveau? That saddle-sniffin’-.” He sighed. “Look, it don’t matter. What I’m tryin’ to tell you here, Vern, is that this is gonna stop. Now. Today. My toe’s sore ’nough. If’n you leave and never make trouble fer me again, I’ll swear never to piss on yer name again. We leave each other be.”
Vern’s axe lowered a bit and for a moment Lenui thought he would see reason. Then he hawked and spat. Some of the spit left the face hole of his helmet, but most of it didn’t and dangled from the bottom of the mouth guard in a long stringy glob.
“I see. Yer scared now, ain’t you? Spendin’ days in that desert’s got you worn down.” Vern chuckled. “But that’s too bad. I got you dead to rights. I done fixed my armor and I’m ready fer all yer tricks and weapons.” He rapped on his helmet with the side of his axe and it didn’t move a bit. “When I’m done killin’ you, I’m gonna make sure yer friends are dead. Then I’m headin’ to Reneul and introducin’ myself to yer widow. She’s gonna need a good strong dwarf in her sad life.”
Lenui sucked at his teeth and nodded to himself. Then he threw Buster Junior One at the dwarf’s steel-shod right boot. The weapon left his fingers, the magic engaged, and the hammer rocketed forward to cave in the toe of the boot with double impact.
Vern howled and hopped on his other leg and Lenui surged forward. He grabbed the hilt of Artemus’ dagger. Hope you don’t mind doin’ some cuttin’ fer me, he sent and stabbed the tip of the dagger right through Vern’s faceplate and into his skull.
Sir Edge Page 31
