The Darkslayer: Chaos at the Castle (Book 6) (18 page)

That should keep them busy.

He should have gone, left, fled while he had the chance, but he wouldn’t. He wanted to kill them. Kill as many as he could. Trick them. Trap them. Slaughter them. They were many, but he was one.

Blast, I wish that staff
still had its extra oomph.
Just get on with it, Boon!

He
muttered a spell.

On cat’s feet
, he drifted through the woodland. Up the creek away from the wary eyes of the underlings. His robes blended in perfectly with the fog as he did so. He stopped, heart pounding in his chest, as three underling soldiers chittered past him. With further caution, up and away he went.

This should do.

He pressed his palm into a tree
, scorching the bark. One by one, he did the same to many trees in a row, staying parallel to the search line of underlings, all the while maintaining the sound commotion illusion to keep them away. It was tedious work, but the results would be divine. Over a hundred trees later, he sat down, rested his back against the tree, and closed his eyes. He could hear the chitters of the underlings. The sounds repulsed him.

Ah, what is this?

A breeze started to dissipate and lift the fog. Above, a pair of robed underling magi hung in the air nearby.

As I suspected.
Perfect timing.

The wind pushed the fog down through the grove, down the ravine towards the falls.

Boon summoned a word of power.

The last tree he touched burst into flame, igniting
the next one, and so on. The chain reaction was quick and devastating. The underling magi’s spell to rid the ravine of the fog only hastened the affect. The wind sent the flames jumping from tree to tree. In moments, the grove was a crackling bonfire of smoke, sealing off escape for the battalion of underlings.

Laughing under his breath, Boon crept out of the grove. He could picture the underlings now,
burning by fire or leaping from the ledge and plunging to their deaths.

It’s a
good start.

Zzrcak! Zzrack!

Two red balls of energy struck him in the chest, knocking him down. He rolled to his feet. Spit dirt from his mouth. The two underling magi stood before him. Yellow gem eyes boring into him.

He grimaced, rubbed his chest
, and coughed. “Is that all you have for me?”

T
hey flung their arms forward. Balls of bright energy shot out towards him.

Boon caught one
ball in one hand, one in the other, and shoved them together. “Amateurs!” He hurled the orb of energy into the nearest underling, catching it full in the chest.

Boom!

Flesh and robes scattered.

“Perfect!” Boon said.

Vines burst from the ground, entwining his legs, pulling him down.

“Don’t you have any
thing new to offer?”

The
remaining underling let out a shrill whistle.

“Calling for help won’t save you from me!”

Boon shot a green dart of energy from the tip of his finger.

Zing!

It punched through its throat. The underling clutched at its neck and collapsed.

“Blasted vines!”
He reached down and ripped them away. “You’d think they’d have gotten more creative by now.”

The grove was an inferno
. Its smoke a black tower. There was no need for the one remaining underling mage to send a signal; the blaze would attract every underling for miles.

What to do
?

Ahead, the barren landscape of the Outlands awaited. If he was smart, he’d try to catch up with Fogle and his friends, but something told him he needed to stick around. See what was going on. He had plenty of spells and energy left.

One more strike, Boon
.
If you can take one battalion, you can take two, maybe three.

It was his way. Trap and ambush. Trick and destroy. He’d drowned underling
s in riverbeds. He’d suffocated them in their sleep. He’d burned them alive in fires. With magic, illusions and a crafty mind, he baited them. Fishing for underlings he enjoyed; killing them he relished.

Boon narrowed his eyes, scanning the horizon. H
e had no place to hide. He was exposed, but over a mile in the distance, another large grove of trees waited. Could he get there before the underlings saw him? And how much longer could he last on his own?

“I swore if I ever got out of the Under-Bish, I’d take the fight back to the underlings again. Let’s go
, old man, while your bones and muscles still bend.”

Running, he headed straight for the grove, sandaled feet digging into the ground. Ahead, the trees weren’t tall, but they’d offer sanctuary, a place to burro
w in and hide maybe. Rest.  Recharge. Renew the fight on the morrow. He didn’t want to use all his spells either. He didn’t have the spellbook to renew them. The ones he’d memorized for a lifetime were few.

A blur of black sped his way
. Faster than the fleetest deer, it stopped twenty feet away. An underling hunter, armed in leathers, clawed fingers wrapped around the jagged blades of a dagger, barred his path.

Boon sent a green missile its way. A foot fr
om its face, it ricocheted away when two more underling magi appeared in the sky. Another underling sped into his path, followed by another, and another. The shock troops had arrived.

Face grim,
jaw set, Boon ground his feet into the dirt.

“So be it then!” Boon muttered a spell.

Arcs of light shot his way. The underling hunters closed in.

R
ocks exploded beneath his feet. He dove away and rolled up on one knee.

“This is more like it!”

His beard bristled in and out of a
see-through suit of mystic armor, which shimmered bluely around him. A shield wavered in one hand, a black sword of energy in the other.

The
y came at him. Fury and murder in their eyes. Armed and armored, they were the superior force. Experienced fighters. Killers one and all.

Boon’s scintillating blade sheared through one
’s leg at the knee, dropping it. He gutted the belly of another.

Another
stabbed its dagger at his chest, skipping off his chest plate.

Boon caught it in the jaw with a back swing. He was a trained soldier,
had been part of the old programs in the City of Bone, before he took to wizardry. He liked fighting, but it couldn’t destroy things as fast as he could with wizardry.

Zzrcak! Zzrack! Zzrcak! Zzrack!

Bursts of energy careened off his shield, his chest, his mystic helmet
, chipping fragments of energy from it all.

The underlings
’ weapons gouged and cut. They were useless against his magic. Angry, they slung their weapons to the ground and jumped on top of him.

Boon staggered back under the weight and crashed to the ground. His black sword was too long to stab.
I’ll try this!
Concentrating, he shrunk it into the size of a dagger and jammed it into an underling’s skull.

An underling jumped on his arm, pinning it to the ground, while the other wrapped
its arms around his legs.

Zzrcak! Zzrack!
Zzrcak! Zzrack!

He jerked his shield up. Energy exploded out
of it, cracking it apart. He kicked and flailed at his underling grapplers.

“I
’ll try this then, roaches!”

His shield transformed into a dagger, his dagger a shield.

He sunk the mystic blade into the underling’s skull and ripped it out.

“No more chittering for you!”

Reversing his grip, he slid it between the other underling’s ribs, drawing forth a howl. He extended the blade, shooting out the other side of the underling, cutting its breath short, jaws locking in the air.

Vine
s exploded from the ground, entwining his legs.

“Not again
!” He cut them away. Huffing for breath, he rose back to his feet, ready. “Who’s … eh … next?”

Gem speckled eyes, on the ground and off, had him surrounded.
Rows and rows of them.

He banged his mystic sword into his shield.

“So be it then!”

Bolts of lightning struck from all over
, shattering his armor, pounding him into the ground. Everything tasted like metal, and his beard was smoking. Flat on his back, his eyes fluttered open just in time to see an iron net drop from the sky.

CHAPTER 22

Miles away, Fogle Boon could no longer see the smoke in the distance. All signs of his grandfather were faded and gone. In front of him, Cass’s limp figure was slumped against him in the saddle. His arm held her tight around the waist.

“Cass,” he whispered in her ear, “can you hear me?”

She hadn’t moved, but she breathed. Fogle felt a great deal of anger when he got a closer look at her face. It was scraped up, bruised and swollen. She looked awful.
They’ll pay for this.

“Where did
Puppy go?” Barton said. Scratching his head, his arms were like tree trunks as he ambled forward. “I like the puppy. He has two heads. Hee. Hee.”

It was a good question, but the answer was obvious.

“He’s going after Venir,” Fogle said. He shifted in his saddle. His back was in knots already.

Barton smashed his fist in his hand

“The man with Barton’s toys! Get him, Puppy. Get him!” Barton stopped and leered back with his one good eye. “Wizard, how are we going to find the doggy again?”

Fogle pointed upward. Inky, his ebony hawk was circling in the sky.

“Oh … that’s right. Good thinking.”

It was good thinking, especially this time around. Tak
ing no chances, Fogle had cut off a lock of Chongo’s mane while the beast was licking Cass, then fed it to the bird. The familiar should have no problem tracking Chongo, but he wasn’t so sure that the sliver of horn from Venir’s long hunting knife would allow Inky to find the man.

We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.

Cass pressed her back into his chest. He could hear her smacking her lips. Reaching around, he put a canteen to her mouth and felt her delicate hands wrap around his wrists. A fire went through him as she sighed, drank, gulped and sighed.

“Is that you, Fogle?”
She reached back, nails gently scratching the stiff hairs on his cheek. “Did you save me?”

Despite the weariness, he felt his chest swell.

“You could say that,” he said in her ear, “but I wasn’t without any help.

Without looking back, she gulped down more water from the canteen.

“How did you find me?”

“Barton heard Chongo barking, I believe.”

Cass straightened her shoulder and leaned forward.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but I’m tracking him, see?” He pointed into the sky. “We’re going right after him.”

“Hmmm… I’m impressed, Fogle Vir—, oh, sorry, Fogle Hero. Seems you’re getting a knack for this adventuring after
all…” Her voice trailed off.

“What? What is it, Cass?”

“Where’s Boon?”

Good question. Dead most likely.

“He held the underling
s off while we escaped.”

“And you left him?” she
said.

“No, he could have come, Cass. But he didn’t want to
, and I couldn’t make him, not with a hundred men.”

It was the truth. The pair of them had prepared more than enough spells to bail them out in a pinch if need be, but Boon
had made it clear. He’d rather save his energy to kill underlings.

Cass turned her hips in the saddle and draped her sensuous legs over his. Her long
-lashed pink eyes bore into his. “He’s a crazy old man, isn’t he?” She brought a smile to her battered lips.

She understands. Thank goodness for that.

He couldn’t help but smile back. Despite the bumps and bruises, she was still the most beautiful thing he ever saw. A sparkle was in her eye.

“That might be a mild way of putting it.” He cleared his throat. “Cass, I’m glad you’re—
mmrph!
”

Cass grabbed him by his
thick locks of hair and kissed him. The long, hot wet kiss was beyond words.

She gasped and sunk into his chest.
“I’m glad you’re well too.”

Fogle wanted to jump of
f the horse and have her right then and there. He pulled her in for another kiss.

She pushed
his chest back.

“
Control yourself,” she said, “We won’t have time for that until the danger is over. And that won’t be any time soon. So, do you have any idea where we are? I lost track leagues ago.”