The Darkslayer: Chaos at the Castle (Book 6) (22 page)

Clatch-zip!
Clatch-zip!

Two long bolts ripped through the sky
, striking Jans square in the chest. He was pinned to the wood. He shouted once more, hand rising in the air, pointing towards Venir and died.

“Ew… that must have hurt,” Tuuth
said. “But there are far worse ways to go. You’ll find out soon, I bet.”

The Royal Riders fought long and hard, but they were no match for the underling
numbers and mystic forces. A wall of fire encircled dozens of horsemen on the ground. The horses bucked and whined.  Riders were tossed from their saddles into the fires. More missiles from the crossbows and ballistas came, skewering the men and scattering others. Minute after agonizing minute, Venir watched the brave men get picked off. The underling magi cleared the catwalks, and the dead underlings and men were piled up in heaps of torn flesh and metal. The hot fort air wreaked of death.

Slim!

Venir didn’t see any sign of him.

An
hour later, the men of the Royal Riders could swing no more. The last twelve of them surrendered.

“Not bad, Stranger. Not bad at all, for Royal soldiers. But I think a host of orcs would have fared much better.
” He slapped Venir on his back. “At least you’ll have some company. And who knows, they might have you peel the skin from them before they peel the skin from you.” He snorted a laugh. “Now wouldn’t that be something?”

For the first time in his life, Venir had nothing to say.

CHAPTER 28

Lefty dashed from behind the bar, shaking his head, tears streaming from his eyes. Everything happened so fast.
What do I do?

Everyone was screaming
at Scorch, but he paid them little mind. Instead, he pushed his broken nose back into place.

“What have you done
!” Joline screamed.

Kam’s jaw dropped just before her eyes rolled up inside her head.

Joline caught her on the way down.

But Scorch wasn’t paying attention to that. It was the hand that
held his eyes. It twitched on the table. “Fascinating.” Picking it up, he resumed his seat at the bar. “I’ve never experienced a talking hand before.”

“Lefty! Lefty!” Joline cried.

Lefty stood there next to Joline, but still was unsure what to do. There was blood everywhere.

“Scorch!” Joline
shouted. “Why, Scorch? Why!” Joline’s tone was delirious.

Lefty
trembled.

“Oh, put a sock
in it, or whatever you people say.” Scorch shook his head. “I’ll never understand why Trinos picked such leaky beings.” He wiped Kam’s blood splatter from his forehead. “I can only presume it gives the dramatic more flare.”

“Is there anything I can do
?” Darlene said. “I can make a fine tourniquet.”

“You could’ve not cut her hand off
, you imbecile woman!” Joline said. Tears streamed from her face as she held Kam in her arms. “What possessed you to do such a thing?”

“He told me to. I do what he tells me,”
Darlene said. The husky woman handed Joline a rag.

“Would you cut your own hand off if he told you?”

“Probably.”

The woman defied reason.
Scorch defied reason. Everything Lefty had been through seemed to defy reason. But right now, Kam’s bleeding had to stop. And Joline needed to stop screaming.

Lefty leapt onto the bar and
kicked Scorch in the jaw. “Fix this, you—”

Blink!

***

Darleen stood by the table, dumbfounded.

Kam, Joline, the Halfling, and the baby were all gone. She wiped the sweat from her brow and swallowed. “What happened to them?” she said. She started looking under the tables.

“Could you bring me your knife?” Scorch said
.

Darlene wiped t
he blood off her trousers and asked, “Sure, what for?”

Without looking at her
, he snapped his fingers, popping her ears.

She hurried over, ears ringing,
and handed the blade to him, handle first.

He showed her the hand, the gems
embedded in it. “Is it customary to wear gems in this manner, Darlene?”

“No.” She took a closer look. “I have to say, I’ve never seen anything like that before.” She grimaced. “Looks painful, but you know, there are bugs that’ll crawl right inside you and lay eggs. It’s the vilest thing. One time this fella was drinking some ji
g back in Hohm when these eensy weensy bugs came crawling out if his nose and earholes. Huh! He screamed, I screamed, we all screamed for lice cream!” She popped her lips. “I got my chubby arse out of there after that.”

Scorch, so far as she could tell
, was ignoring her. He always did, but whenever she thought he wasn’t paying attention, he’d say something to her. She’d been trying to figure it out, but she’d come to the conclusion that she just wasn’t smart enough. Two minds were better than one anyway, she figured.

Scorch dug the knife under the gem inside Kam’s palm.

“It seems my little red friends are determined to stay put, Darlene. Any suggestions?”

She propped her elbow on the bar and chin on her fist
. “Maybe we should burn it. I can stoke the fireplace up over there, but let me warn you: it’ll smell something awful.”

The hand twisted away from Scorch’s grip
. Like a spider, it scrambled away.

Darlene jumped out of her stool.
“Great Guzan!” Look at that thing go!” Heart thumping, she chased after it. She knocked over tables and chairs, diving on top of it as it reached the exit door. She held it up with both hands. “I got it, Scorch! I got it!” It felt like a dry wiggling fish in her hands. “Should I throw it in the fire?”

“Hmmm…
” Scorch took a bite out of a pickle. “I have a feeling it doesn’t want that. Bring it back over here.”

“Certainly
.” Her arms wiggled. The hand was strong. Unnatural to hold. “Maybe you should cut the fingers off. I’ve got another knife, you know.”
Thunk.
She pinned the knife to the table and handed him the hand. “This is the strangest thing I ever saw, Scorch. What are you going to do with it?”

His eyes lit up like infernos
. He looked straight at the gems and said, “Time is short.” His other hand became a brilliant blue fire. “What will it be?”

The hand clutched and writhed.

“I grow impatient,” Scorch said.

The red gemstones popped out of Kam’s hand and clattered on the floor.

“Whoa!” Darlene leaned in closer. “You know what, Scorch? Those things kinda look like eyeballs.”

Dangling Kam’s hand by one finger
, he said, “A shame to see such a functional appendage go to waste.”
Plop.
He dropped it in the pickle jar.

Darlene let out a snort
, watching it float down, but a sinking feeling fell upon her.

Where did those people go?

“Don’t worry about that, Darlene,” Scorch said. The gems floated up to his fingers.

And that’s when things became odd.

Scorch talked to himself, ate pickles and cheese, and sipped Muckle Sap for the next hour. He laughed. Scoffed. Mocked. His handsome features changed from one expression to another. Grim. Scary. Bold. Enlightened. But for the most part, he giggled and used the word ‘fascinating.’

Bored, she began to clean up, whistling a lullaby as she picked up the chairs and tables she
’d knocked over. She stopped at the dead bodies and smashed a few flies between her hands.

“How am I going to dispose of these guys?”

She had an idea.

“Uh, Scorch?”

He sat there, eyes transfixed on the red stones he’d set back on the bar.

“Scorch, could you?”

Slowly, he turned, a dark look in his eye.

Walking over to him, she tossed a rag over the gemstones.

He blinked at her, eyes regaining their luster. “What is it?”

She jutted her thumb at the headless bodies.

“Oh,” he sighed. “Just find some sand and sprinkle it on them.”

“Sand?”

“Never mind,” he said. He snatched the rag off the gemstones.

Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff!

“Whoa!” she said.

The dead men had turned to statues of sand. Walking over, she poked the nearest one and wat
ched it implode over the planks on the floor.

“Whoa.
Thanks, Scorch.”

But he wasn’t paying her any mind. Instead, he rolled the gemstones in between his fingers
. “I’ve got to see this.” He said more, but that was all she understood.

She tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She
’d never had those before, but Scorch had never acted this way before either.

The door to the entry way cracked open
, and one of their followers peeped his gray-haired head through.

“Darlene, er … well, any needs?”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Drag in two more of you, and find me a mop and broom.”

Glancing over at Scorch
, she almost peed herself. Only the hand and the pickle jar remained. Scorch was gone with the red gems.

“I got a bad feeling about this.”

CHAPTER 29

“What in Bish are those things?” Fogle yelled
. But Cass wasn’t listening. She wasn’t even moving. “Cass!” Nothing.

Ahead, Barton’s giant feet shook the ground
. Running full stride, his arms swung like giant hammers at his sides.

Fogle whipped the
reins on his horse. “Eeyah!”

Behind him, the angry buzz of the insects got louder, like a hunger
. Fogle had heard about swarms before. He recalled the stories of insects that picked the flesh clean from the bone. Inky’s vision of the insects, each as long as Fogle’s finger, was a chilling site. Sharp rows of snapping teeth, black bug eyes, wings and a stinger like a scorpion for a tail. He glanced over his shoulder.

“
They’re getting closer! Eeyah!”

They
’d made it over a mile when his horse began to labor for breath. Ahead, Barton began to clutch at his side.
No! Think of something, Fogle!

No
spells came to mind that could put a stop to thousands of insects, and anything from the spellbook would take too much time.

Looking over his shoulder, he screamed again. “Cass!” The insects were getting closer. H
is horse was slowing, and ahead, Barton’s feet stumbled. “Come on, Druid! I need you! You’re the one that’s supposed be able to talk to things in this world.”

The buzzing became louder, not so much a buzz, but more like the sound of thousands of tiny metal scissors opening and closing. Fogle fought the image of his flesh being ripped from his skin one tiny chu
nk at a time, a thousand times over.

Do something
, Wizard!
What had Mood said?
You can die doing something or nothing. It’s your life. Make it count.

Fogle flung his arm back
, flinging tendrils of energy from his fingertips. The energy punched into the grey swarm, creating a hole. An eruption of tiny explosions in the sky followed. A second later, the hole closed. Fogle shook his head. He was angry. Every time he overcame one obstacle, he found himself faced with another that he was even less prepared for.

You can’t be ready for everything.
Boon had said.
Just be ready to act.

“I’ll be ready to act
, all right. Act dead!” He whipped the reins. “Barton! Think of something. We’re about to have company!”

He couldn’t tell if
Barton could hear him on not, but the giant slowed and turned.

“Keep moving
, Giant!”

Barton just leered at him, clutching at his sides, huffing for breath.

“What are you doing?” Fogle said, riding up to him, stopping.

“No more
running, Wizard. No more. Wooooo. Barton tired.” His hands fell to his knees.

Fogle tried to summon his energy but couldn’t think of anything to cast. It was too late. The swarm was only seconds away. He pulled Cass tight and looked up at Barton.

“I guess this is good-bye, Barton.”

Barton
scooped out two massive handfuls of dirt from the ground and reached for him.

“What are you doi
—ingggg!”

Barton pi
cked them both up off the horse, set them in a large divot in the ground, and huddled over them.

Fogle tried to squirm away, but an infant could have done better.
“Get off—mrph!”

Everything went black. Fogle and Cass were trapped beneath the hot sweaty mass of
Barton’s belly flesh.

I’m going to suffocate in sweaty lard!

Barton’s body groaned and twitched over top of him an
d Cass. He could hear the muffled cries of the deformed giant’s moans of pain. All he could imagine was the insects eating Barton alive. How long would Barton hold them off until they got to him? Would he suffocate first?

“Cass
.” He caught a drop of Barton’s sweat in his mouth. “Yecht!”

He tried to think of something. Anything that might help. He needed air. Barton needed help.
He grabbed Cass’s face and stroked it tenderly. He held her tight. Above him, Barton’s big body shuddered. He didn’t know who to feel worse for, the giant or himself. Inside him, he wanted to fight, but there was nothing he could do.

This is pathetic.

A minute passed, then two.  Barton’s moans and cries subsided slowly.

He’s dying! The bugs will be through any moment.

Barton’s body stop
ped shuddering. The only thing Fogle could feel or hear was his own heartbeat. He pushed up on Barton. “Let us out!” He drove his knee into his belly. What if Barton died and they were trapped? “No! Blast it, Barton, get up!”

He summoned his energy. His fist lit up and he drove it into Barton’s belly.

Ssssrack!

Barton’s body lurched upward and rolled over. Fogle gasped, basking in the white daylight that greeted him. He could breath
e again! One last breath of sweet air before the bugs got him. He crawled out of the hole that Barton had dug and scanned the sky. It was empty aside from a few clouds. The humming of bugs was gone.

“Where did they go?” he said, spinning around.

Barton groaned. The big giant lay flat on his back with hundreds, if not thousands, of red welts all over his body. “Oooooh,” he moaned. “My belly hurts.”

Fogle stood over his side and patted
his belly. “Uh… looks like you’ve had too much bug poison. I’m sure it will go away.”

Barton rolled his big neck his way, staring at him with
his one good eye. “You alright, Wizard? Barton helped you, right?”

“
Indeed, Barton. I’d be dead without you.”

“Pretty lady alright too?”

“She just needs something better to drink than your sweat, but she should be fine. Can you get up?”

Slowly, Barton rose to
a sitting position.

“Belly hurts,” he said, rubbing it. “Like I got whopped by a giant. Did you do that?”

Fogle turned away. “Have you seen the horse?”

Barton pointed east.

“Ah,” Fogle said. Making his way over to the mount that stood basking in the haze of the hot day. “Oh.” When he got close, a chill ran through him. The horse still stood with the saddle and his bags intact, but every ounce of flesh and skin had been picked clean. Only the bones remained. He glanced back at the giant. Barton’s thick skin had saved them all. All but the horse, anyway. He grabbed what gear he needed, headed back, and tried to make Cass as comfortable as he could.

“How are you feeling, Barton?”

“Dizzy. Little bugs stung me and bit me, but Barton too tough. Too strong. Belly still hurts though. They didn’t bite my belly. I don’t understand why it hurts.” Barton scratched his head. “Was something else underneath me with you? Huh, Wizard?”

Feeling guilty, Fogle was ready to confess.

“Barton, I—”

The giant’s eye closed
, and he fell backward.

Thoom!

“Great! Just great!” Fogle put his hand on Barton’s chest. It still rose and fell. “I guess he’s alive.” He kicked the dirt.

Now what, Wizard? Now what?

Cass had curled up like a baby, and Barton began to snore, leaving him as alone as he ever felt before. He found a place beside Cass in Barton’s ditch and took a seat.
Inky!

Closing his eyes
, he tried to summon the familiar. The last thing he remembered was the bird flying into the swarm, and he’d completely forgotten about the bird after that. He gave it a minute or two and gave up. He pulled at the locks of his hair with both hands.

What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?

Little more than an hour ago, he had things under complete control. Cass was fine, Barton cheerful and his horse reliable transportation under his legs. They were going after Venir, the Darkslayer. Following the dog Chongo. His ebony hawk would lead straight to them.

Now, all of his plans were crushed. Inky was gone. Barton and Cass were almost comatose
, and his horse was dead. He could only think of one thing. Well, two things.

G
o east. Or sleep―and wake up dead.

Going east
should have been simple, but it wasn’t. The suns and moons didn’t always rise in the same places, not than anyone ever thought about using them as a compass. Mood had always complained that getting around Bish would be easier if the suns and moons rose in the same places. Instead, you had to know the terrain.

Look for the signs.

A keen eye could
see for miles in any direction, and the layout of Bish was simple. All you had to know was where places were and how to get there. Just don’t be too forgetful. To make matters worse, some days, especially in the Outlands, were longer than others.

Probably have our bones picked clean out her
e.

H
e noted a bird of some sort circling above.

Great.
Probably man-eating condors. Let’s hope I can handle them.

Fogle pulled his spellbook from his pack
. It fit on his hand at first, then, opening and closing, it got bigger and bigger, until he had to set it on his lap. He thumbed through the pages.

The
re ought to be something in here.

Meanwhile, Barton’s
snoring made the ground rumble.

Page by page
, Fogle scanned his book, finding nothing immediately useful. He’d need more time and rest to learn anything new, and he had other spells in mind he had to keep until he used them. He nudged Cass. Her pale pink lips were cracked and dried. He poured a little water from his canteen on her lips, bringing forth a sigh.
Poor thing.
The feisty woman seemed so vulnerable right now, leaving him uncomfortable.

He stuck his nose back inside his book and read through more of Boon’s spells.  A bad feeling crawled through him. Was Boon still alive or not? The old man was crazy enough to figh
t an entire army of underlings and willing to die for it.

Bish
, don’t’ let me get that crazy.

Spell after spell he read
, not recalling hardly any of them. He felt ashamed now at his reluctance. Boon’s written pages were a treasure that never should have been ignored. He giggled at one of them.
Breast replenishment.
With a special note.
For aging wife
. Fogle shook his head. Much of the magic in the City of Three was used to upkeep images, a practice which Fogle, unlike most, found detestable. He wondered if Boon was one of those who created such a spell to begin with. Page after page he went. Transfigurations. Polymorph. Elementals. Enchantments. Transmutations. Conjurations. A dozen forms of evocations and illusions, and so on. The ones that were most effective on underlings were highlighted. But there wasn’t anything he could find that would give him directions. Fogle marked a few pages and closed the book.