Monster War (5 page)

The Queen of Nightmares nodded approvingly. “Good boy. As soon as my lovely Golems destroy the cities, the rest of my fierce babies will pursue every last human to their dying breath. You’ve done well, Edward.”

Pinch nodded, but didn’t move. The Queen of Nightmares eyed him curiously.

“What is wrong? Are you afraid that I might…dispose of you…now that you’ve completed my bidding?”

“Yes.”

“Come.” She opened her arms wide and Pinch walked to her, resting his head against the reptilian skin of her waist. She held him tightly. “You are the favourite of all my babies, Edward. I will never let anything happen to you. Do you understand?”

“I do. Thank you.” Pinch’s voice was soft and trembling.

Realisation suddenly dawned in the eyes of the ancient and terrible beast. “There is something else, isn’t there? It’s not enough that you be protected, kept from harm. You want something more. You want to be
powerful
, don’t you?”

Pinch’s eyes lit up like stars. “Yes…powerful…exactly!”

“You can open portals. None of the creatures of the Nether, myself included, can do that. Surely, that makes you special.”

Pinch nodded. “Yes, but…I’m still…” He looked away, unable to say it.

“Human?”

The way she uttered the word made it seem as though she understood every fear and dream in Pinch’s dark heart.

“Yes. Human and…small and…weak.”

The Queen of Nightmares laughed then. It echoed hollowly around the glossy walls of the shell. “There is no need for you to be small and weak, my darling. That is the role humans have always given you. That is not the destiny
I
see for you. I see something far greater.”

Pinch looked up at her hopefully. “Is there something that can be done?”

“Of course. If you trust me, I can make you…glorious.”

With a sharp talon, she slashed open the index finger of her lower left hand. Green blood oozed to the surface in a noxious bubble. She held the bloody finger to Pinch’s small, thin lips.

“Drink,” she commanded.

Pinch looked up at her, unsure. “Is it—”

“Drink,” she repeated, more gently this time. “Drink and you will know power such as you have
never
known.” The green bubble trembled on the tip of her finger.

“Yes,” Pinch said, more confidently now. “I will.” He leaned down, wrapped his lips around her bony finger and drank.

T
he craggy mountains of the 3
^rd
Ring seemed to shift and shimmer in the blue light of the Netherforge. Charlie and his friends shielded their eyes from the glare as they stepped through the portal and on to the rocky ground. The hiss of steam escaping from underground vents and the ringing of hammers on metal filled their ears.

“Wow, just
look
at this place,” Brooke said. “I had no idea it was this big.”

The size of a football field, the Netherforge was built around a large well filled with a thick blue liquid that glowed like lava. The well was ringed by various ancient tools and machinery.

At one end was a crusher of some sort, dusted with a fine yellow powder from the shards of mustard-coloured
crystals that lay shattered around it. Charlie recognised them almost instantly - he had seen those crystals on the 5
^th
Ring. Large vats of water surrounded the forge itself. Charlie didn’t notice any nearby springs to feed them, so he guessed that the water had to be brought in from the ocean of the 4th Ring - no easy task. A series of dark metal racks held stone moulds in the shape of weapons - swords, axe blades, lances - and everywhere Charlie looked, he could see oversized anvils.

“Man, this place is seriously awesome!” Theodore exclaimed. “Lots of danger!”

As their eyes adjusted to the intense blue light, Charlie and his friends noticed several Banishers busily working around the forge, crafting or repairing weapons. Charlie recognised German writing on the uniform of a man pouring some kind of molten metal into a mace-shaped mould. A woman with a patch that appeared to have Swedish writing on it pulled a glowing blue longsword from the lava and thrust it into a vat of water, where it sizzled in a geyser of steam.

“NO, FOOL!” a voice suddenly croaked - it was deep and thick with phlegm.

Charlie turned to see a large creature leaping across the forge. It landed on the stone with webbed feet, then rose to its full height - easily twice Charlie’s size.

“What is that thing?” Brooke asked.

“I’m guessing it’s the Smith.”

The Smith was a giant bullfrog. Its grey-green skin was horribly pocked and scarred. A cartoonishly wide head rested on a neck that ballooned outward as it breathed. The beast’s lips were green and rubbery and its eyes were cruel red globes that protruded from a face oozing pus. The creature snatched the longsword from the bewildered Banisher and proceeded to yell at her in Swedish.

“He doesn’t look very friendly,” Violet said.

Theodore snorted dismissively. “Aw, he doesn’t scare me. And he better not yell at
us
that way. If he tries to, I will pulverise that overgrown frog! I’ll Nether-Slap him!”

“WHAAAAT?” The swollen head of the great creature swivelled towards the boastful boy. “What did you -
crooooak!
- say to ME?” With one mighty leap, the Smith cleared the forge and landed centimetres from Theodore, who stumbled backwards.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean anything by it, sir. Or at least, I didn’t think you’d hear me.”

“I hear EVERYTHING, boy! This is MY forge. I am the -
crooooak!
- SMITH!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Smith,” Brooke said, her voice quaking.

The Smith looked at her disdainfully. “What are you
CHILDREN doing here? This is a serious place for -
crooooak!
- SERIOUS Banishers.” Then he noticed Violet’s axe, which glowed a dim blue. “How DARE you bring such an inferior trinket to my forge. Is it a TOY? No toys here - WEAPONS! Serious weapons!”

“That’s what we’ve come for,” Charlie said. “A serious weapon. Maybe the most serious.”

The Smith swivelled its balloon-like head in Charlie’s direction. Its red eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re different. There’s something ABOUT you, boy. Something…”

“My name is Charlie Benjamin.”

The Smith’s eyes widened. “Ah, I’ve -
crooooak!
- HEARD of you.” Charlie’s ego flared pleasantly, but was quickly doused when the Smith continued: “I’ve heard you’ve caused great TROUBLE. I’ve heard you’ve caused much -
crooooak!
- TRAGEDY!”

“That’s not true!” Theodore shouted. “It’s all lies from people who don’t know him, people who envy him!”

“And what say YOU, Benjamin? Is it all -
crooooak!
- LIES?”

“It’s true I’ve made some mistakes,” Charlie said, “and I’m sorry for those. But I never meant to harm anyone. We came here to save people - all of us.”

“How NOBLE!” the Smith sneered. “Please, I BEG you, how can a simple smith like me be of assistance to such a -
crooooak!
- WORTHY group as yourselves?”

Charlie took a breath to steady his nerves. “We need a sword. The Sword of Sacrifice.”

The Smith stared at him for a moment, then burst into cruel laughter. “Begone, CHILDREN, and waste my time no -
crooooak!
- further.” It turned to go.

“Stop,” Charlie commanded. “I need that sword - and you’re going to get it for me.”

The Smith turned back to him with a look of astonishment in its bulging eyes. “Oh, AM I?”

Charlie nodded. “Headmaster Brazenhope sent me here. She said I needed the sword to slay the Fifth. She said you would give it to me.”

The Smith grunted. “Do you know, boy, what that sword would DO to you if you were to TOUCH it?” The creature leaned in so close that Charlie could smell the sour pus that dripped down its cheeks. “It would DESTROY you. Only a DOUBLE-THREAT can wield such a -
crooooak!
- magnificent weapon.”

“I am a Double-Threat.”

“Oh, really?” The Smith seemed far from convinced. “I’d HEARD that you were, but seeing you now, I find it HARD to believe.”

“He is!” Theodore shouted. “He’ll prove it to you!”

“Oh, he WILL,” the Smith spat. “He will prove it -
crooooak!
- or DIE.”

“Why does everything in the Nether have to end with ‘or die’?” Theodore grumbled as the group followed the Smith up a treacherous trail carved into the face of the tallest peak on the 3
^rd
Ring.

“I hate this,” Brooke said, clinging to the mountain face for protection as she slowly edged her way upwards. She glanced down at the distant rocks below and turned ghastly pale. “Oh, boy, do I hate this!”

“Move it, Brooke,” Violet said - the height didn’t seem to bother her in the least. With the sure-footedness of a mountain goat, she quickly slipped past the tall girl and sprinted up the path to join the boys.

“In HERE!” the Smith shouted. The bloated creature stood at the mouth of a tunnel where the trail came to a dead end. “Not far NOW! The time of BANISHING is near!” With a boisterous
crooooak!
it hopped into the entrance - little more than a crack in the side of the mountain - and was soon gone.

Theodore stared into the blackness nervously. “Umm…looks kind of dark.”

Charlie clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’ll be cool. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Afraid?” Theodore laughed shrilly. “Who said anything about afraid? Where did the word ‘afraid’ come into the conversation? I’m not afraid! I am a death-dealing machine! I am a weapon of doom!”

“You want me to go first?”

“Would you?”

Charlie entered, followed by Violet.

By then, Brooke had caught up. She peered uncertainly inside the mouth of the cave. “We’re really going in there?”

Theodore swallowed hard and nodded. “Looks like it.”

Brooke took his hand. “You’ll protect me, right?”

Theodore instantly brightened. “Protect you? Are you kidding? This is Theodore Dagget you’re talking to - the man with the plan! I eat Nethercreatures for breakfast! I—”

As he talked, he led her inside, praying desperately that she couldn’t see his knees shaking. The tunnel, though dark, was mercifully short and Theodore was still babbling away when he and Brooke walked out the other side and into the pale blue light of the Nether.

“—and that’s, of course, the benefit of my constant
chatter. See, it lets any Nethercreatures in the tunnel know that there’s an instrument of destruction nearby and that they do not, repeat, do NOT want to tangle with him.”

Brooke nodded sympathetically. “You were very brave.”

“I know.”

She tried to let go of his hand, but Theodore clung on tightly.

“Over here!” Violet shouted, breaking the awkward moment.

Brooke and Theodore scampered across the wide ledge they now stood on to join the rest of the group, who were waiting for them in front of a stone bridge that arched across a chasm. Clearly a natural formation, it had no guard rails, no steps, no protection of any kind.

The Smith turned to them with a dark expression that Charlie figured was its version of a smile. “So, my little GRUNTS, have you ever faced a -
crooooak!
- Chasm Wyrm before?”

Charlie shook his head. “Never even heard of one.”

“I have,” Brooke said. “They mentioned them in Leet Bestiary class. They’re pretty rare, I think. They fly and…there’s something unusual about them, but I can’t quite…” She struggled to recall exactly
what
was unusual about them, then finally gave up and shook her head. “I
don’t remember. It’s definitely
something
though.”

Violet nodded. “Well, that’s helpful. At least now we know it’s ‘definitely something’.” She turned to the Smith. “So do you have any info about fighting these monsters, other than that there’s ‘definitely something’ about them?”

“Only THIS: most Banishers -
crooooak!
- do not SURVIVE the encounter. Even DOUBLE-THREATS are undone by them.” It hopped closer to Charlie, grinning. “I have been here eons, BOY. I have seen MANY -
crooooak!
- Double-Threats. I have seen many DIE!” The creature gestured to the bone-white rock that spanned the chasm. “Go on. Show us your -
crooooak!
- POWER.”

Charlie glanced at his friends - then headed out over the arch.

“Good luck, Charlie,” Violet called after him.

“And don’t look down!” Brooke added.

“You just call me if you need help!” Theodore yelled. “I’ll come running! You know I will!”

Charlie could hear them, but already his mind was drifting away, drifting to the solitary place he always went to when battle was imminent. Walking across the narrow bridge reminded him of something. At first, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but then the answer came to him.

The Trout of Truth.

To be tested by the great fish, you had to walk alone across a series of stepping stones, until you reached the very middle of the fathomless black lake that the creature called home. There, you stated your destiny. If you spoke true, you were left unharmed. But if you lied, the Trout of Truth exploded up from the water and swallowed you whole before spitting you back out, covered in slime, on the far, grassy shore.

Glancing around, Charlie thought it was entirely possible that something might shoot up from the dark, airy depths beneath him and swallow him whole, just like the Trout of Truth - but he seriously doubted that it would have the generosity to spit him back out, unharmed. He stopped in the centre of the bridge and waited, his right hand resting on the hilt of his rapier.

It began to glow blue. Something was coming.

Charlie looked down into the chasm, straining to see movement in the darkness, trying his best not to be frightened by the nauseating thinness of the ribbon of rock on which he stood. Accidentally, his right foot knocked off a pebble. It fell into the inky well and Charlie waited for the sound of it hitting the bottom to echo back up at him. The sound never came.

But something else did.

Floating up from the darkness, Charlie saw one of the most beautiful sights he had ever witnessed. It looked like a giant butterfly, with a wingspan as wide as a cathedral ceiling. And the colours! Candyfloss pinks side by side with the brilliant green of a peacock’s feather; swirls of sunset red next to the haunting purple of a twilight sky. The wings were a rainbow of hues, shimmering and shining against the blackness like a stained-glass window. As the creature rose, Charlie began to see the fine details of its pixie-ish body - wide, round eyes and an elfin nose. The creature smiled at him and the smile warmed him from the inside, filling him with its rosy glow.

This couldn’t be the monster he was supposed to fight. Could it?

Greetings, traveller
, the creature said, although its lips didn’t move. Charlie wasn’t sure if it actually spoke the words or if it somehow just transmitted them into his brain.
You look weary. You have been through many trials. You deserve rest…and comfort
.

The creature’s voice was kind and soothing and Charlie was surprised to discover that he
was
a little bit weary and that he
did
need rest and comfort. Luckily, it looked like those were two things a marvellous being like this could provide.

“You’re right,” Charlie said finally. “I guess I am a little
tired. Really tired, actually. People are expecting a lot of me - saving the world and all. Sometimes I just want to say ‘forget it’ and lie down and take a nice, long nap.”

Back on the ledge, Theodore watched his friend with growing agitation. “What’s he doing? Why is he having a heart-to-heart conversation with that monster? Why doesn’t he just kill it?”

“I don’t know,” Violet replied, clearly concerned as well. “That thing is hideous.”

Even though, to Charlie, it looked like a beautiful butterfly, his friends saw it for what it really was - a Chasm Wyrm. A flying red dragon with lidless green eyes and rows of razor-sharp teeth that stuck out of its black gums at crazy angles, like headstones in an ancient cemetery. Its tail was long and clubbed at the end and its wings were coated in hard scales that gleamed dully in the weak light of the Nether.

“Uh-oh,” Brooke said.

Violet turned to her. “Uh-oh? Elaborate, please.”

“I just remembered what the deal was about Chasm Wyrms. They take over your mind. They can make you think things that aren’t real and do things you wouldn’t ever want to do if they weren’t in your head, controlling you.”