The Darkslayer: Chaos at the Castle (Book 6) (27 page)

Joline’s eyes widened.

Kam got up, scooped her baby out of her bassinette with her one good arm and held her tight. “Nobody messes with me or my baby.”

“Uh,” Joline stammered, “how about some hot tea
?”

“Got any Muckle Sap?”

“No.” Joline pulled her shoulders back. “And I wouldn’t give you any if we did. You need to settle yourself, Woman. I don’t know what all you’ve been through, and you can tell me when you like, but now’s no time for drinking. Just rock your baby.”

Kam strolled over to the window. The glass was clear
, but she couldn’t see out. A busted three legged stool lay on the ground beside it. That window, whatever it was, was hard as stone. Kam couldn’t help but wonder if it was all an illusion. Was she really here or not? Joline and Erin were real. Of that much, she was certain, but of the rest she wasn’t so sure.

Erin yawned and stretch
ed, letting out a little squeak. For the first time in as long as she remembered, Kam felt herself smile on the inside and out. She had the most important thing in the world, Erin. She kissed her forehead and took a seat in a rocking chair nearby.

“That’s better
.” Joline worked the kettle on the stove. “You’ve got your whole world now, Kam. Erin’s all that matters.”

Tight as a drum, Kam yawned. Reflecting on everything she’d been through
, she realized life would never be the same. Tortured and manipulated, she’d somehow survived. She was sore. Her face was swollen, and her gut hurt from where she’d been stabbed, but she lived. Erin lived. And even though they were prisoners, at least they were together. She rocked and rocked and rocked. 

Joline walked over, eyes tired, and handed her a mug of steaming coffee.

“There you go. I put some Allybass in it. It always helps me relax. Are you hungry, Kam?”

Kam nodded.

“I’ll fix you something to eat, and how about I run you a tub?”

“No tubs!”

Joline jumped.

“Sorry, just, I’ll wash myself off later.”
Kam shuddered a sigh. “Hopefully, I can still cast a cantrip for it.”

“Whatever you say, Kam.”
Joline fixed herself a cup of coffee and took a seat on the couch, playing with her greying locks of hair. “I might need you to use a cantrip on me, too. I feel like I’ve been rolled in sow waller.”

Kam let out a short giggle
.

It
was followed by a long silence.

Kam felt safe in her heart. Restless, but safe. And the loss of her hand
had been a small price to pay for Erin’s life and her freedom. Perhaps Scorch, at least it would seem, had done her a favor. Shown her compassion, though a bit harsh, and merciless. Still, the image of that rough-cut woman chopping off her hand disturbed her.
She’s a maniac.

“Kam,
I’m sorry to ask, but was Master Gillem a part of all this?”

Kam closed her eyes. So much had happened that she hadn’t had time to take in. She blew a lock of hair from her face.

“You could say that,” she said. “He poisoned the well. He seduced Lefty. But, I don’t think he had a choice. At least, it was either that or death.”

“Oh
.” Joline sat back. “I, I just really liked his company and the flowers he’d bring. He said the nicest things and told the most amazing stories. One time he told me…”

Kam let her talk, but she wasn’t listening
. There wasn’t any sense in spoiling Joline’s memories. ‘There’s good in everyone,’ her mother always said, ‘but it’s often harder to find in some than others.’ Of course, Kam used to believe that, but not anymore. There was no good in Palos. He was rotten to the core.

“Joline?”

“… and those fragrances he made. So… oh, sorry. Did you say something?”

“What happened to Lefty?”

“Well…” Joline looked around. “I, I don’t know. I just assumed he was… oh my.”

“Oh my?” Kam leaned forward. “What do you mean, oh my?”

“The last I saw him, he was kicking Scorch in the nose.” Joline clutched her chest. “You don’t think they cut his hand off too, do you?”

“Why’d he kick him in the nose
?”

“He was mad. He was telling Scorch to fix your hand I think, then poof,” Joline fanned her fingers out, “here we
were!”

Kam’s chest tightened. What in Bish had happened to Lefty? An image of him stuffed in a pickle jar popped in her mind.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Kam and Joline lurched up, looking at each other.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Uh… er… Do you want me to get that?”

Kam handed her Erin. “No, I better do that.” She walked over to the door, grabbed the handle and looked back at Joline.

The older woman mouthed the words, “Answer it.”

Slowly, to her surprise, it pulled open. A familiar figure stood in the doorway.

“You!”

It was Darlene.

“Look
, Lady.” Darlene looked down into Kam’s eyes. “I’m sure you’re still upset about your hand and all, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Huh!” Kam
was baffled.

“But what Scorch says, I does.”

“You are a Maniac!”

“A what?” Darlene rubb
ed her sweaty neck.

“Maniac! A crazy person! Out of your mind! Do you understand that
, you featherless turkey!”

Darlene put her hands up.
“Easy now, Lady. I’m not a Mannyack or a Turkey.
Hic.
‘Scuse me. Must be that last bottle of Muckle Sap. Anyhow, I’m a hunter, trapper, and a proud underling slayer. And, I’ll warn you once: don’t cross Scorch again. He did you a favor, and you know it.”

Speechless, Kam tried to measure the woman’s words. Darlene
still seemed amiable, though taller and formidable.

“So,
” Kam said, “what is it you want?”

“First, sorry about your hand
,” Darlene said. “I guess you’ll just have to learn to wipe with the other.” She winked, pushing her way inside. “Say, this is nice. Better than I imagined it.”

“What do you want?”

“Well.” Darlene grabbed Kam’s cup of coffee from the table and took a sip. “Mmmm… that’s fine coffee. Did you make that, uh…”

“Joline,” Kam said.

The rocker groaned when Darleen sat down.

“Joline. Like Darlene. I like it.” She slurped another mouthful. “
Mmmm, that’s good. Not like that Muckle Sap, but still plenty good.” She kicked her legs on the table.

“What do you want, Darlene?”

She scratched her brown hair, stirring the little flakes that fell out. “Things are getting busy downstairs. I need some help.”

“Help with what?”

“Serving the people.”

“Customers?”
Kam said.

“Yes. You see, I don’t have much experience running a tavern
. I’ve always wanted to, but I never had the money. But thanks to Scorch, I now own this one.”

“This is my tavern!”

Darlene got up and looked down at Kam. “Nope. It’s my tavern now. And you’re going to help me ruin it …
hic.
I mean, run it.”

CHAPTER 36

Blink!

“Say!” A dwarf, black-haired and mangy, couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Where’d ye come from?”

Lefty tumbled onto his butt, shaking his head
. “I-I don’t know.”

The dwarf slammed his fist on the table.

Lefty jumped.

The surrounding men and dwarves erupted in laughter.

Lefty shook his head.

What has happened? Where am I?

He was in a tavern. That much was clear by the layout, the drinking and eating that surrounded him. A fireplace sat cold at his back, and suspicious eyes drifted over him and onto the next patron. There was something else, something weird about where he was. It was misty.

Gathering his thought
s, he looked to the dwarf, who now had his nose buried in a tankard of ale. “I’m from the City of Three, I think.”

The dwarf eyed him from behind his tankard, gulping it down.

Clonk!

“Bring another and one more f
or my out-of-the-city friend here. Say!” The dwarf rubbed his beard. “You’re pretty small, even for a halfling. Humph. The City of Three, ye say. Well, that might explain your appearance. Are you one of those magi or wizards I hear about there? I didn’t think halflings could take to magic with such fashion.”

Lefty crawled up on the chair and sat down. He wasn’t certain what to say or think at the moment. The last hours of his life had been incomprehensible enough.

“Dwarf, uh, my name is Lefty Lightfoot, and I really have no idea where I am. Can you tell me?”

The dwarf guffawed as the
barmaid, heavyset but not uncomely, set down their tankards, laughing as well.

“Can’t ye tell?”

Lefty scanned the room. It wasn’t the City of Bone; there were no dwarves there. And it couldn’t be the City of Three; the distant roar of the falls didn’t catch his ears. And other than the few other places he’d been in his life, he didn’t really have any idea at all. It wasn’t a village or a logged outpost. He shook his head.

“Have a drink, Halfling,” the dwarf said, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder
. “Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.”

Being polite, Lefty took a sip, glancing around as he did so.

There were women, some dressed in thick but scant clothing, and the men were of a dour but rugged sort. A pair of full orcs sat in the corner, quiet and unusual. At the next table over was a man that might have been half-gnoll with a heavy sword on his belt. Somewhere he couldn’t see, someone played a flute, another strings. A sad tune, a slow tune that settled over the room.

“Are you going to make me guess
… Apologies, but may I have your name?”

“No,
you might just ferget it. Dwarf will do, and no, I’m not telling you where you are.”

“I could ask someone else, I suppose.”

The dwarf’s bushy brown brows buckled, and his calloused hand reached under the table. Lefty heard a dagger or knife slip from his belt. The dwarf leaned inward.

“Ye could, but I’d consider that rude.
And I don’t like rude people. You aren’t rude, are you?”

I might as well be. After
all, I’m a thief, a liar, a disappointment, a failure, a lousy friend, and a wretched urchin. Why not be rude too?

The dwarf, who appeared as rugged as they come, reminded him a little of Jubbler, just thicker. Besides, it didn’t look like Lefty had any friends in the world anymore. Maybe it was time he made a new one.

“I’m sorry, Dwarf. The truth is, I’m not rude, just really confused. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know where I am. I-I—Sheesh, I guess it’s for the better!”

“Ho-ho!
” the Dwarf said, “Little one, yer frustration will do ye little good. Take a breath, a drink, and tell me a little about yerself, and if I’m satisfied with your tale, I’ll tell ye where ye is.” The dwarf winked.

Over the planks of the room,
Lefty noticed a creeping fog that swirled as the men and women passed through it.

That’s odd.

“Where should I start?”
Lefty’s feet were sweating.

“Wherever ye want, Lefty. Wherever ye want. I’ve got all the time in the world.”
The dwarf lit up a cigar, leaned back, and kicked his heels up. “And just so you know, yer a long, long way from whence you come.”

A few more solemn faces joined them at the table, each one less friendly than the next. Lefty’s feet were as damp as they’d ever been before.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

CHAPTER 37

“Can you hold a shovel?”

Venir hesitated,
thinking of his aching wrists, then nodded. He was disgraced. Humiliated. Defeated. He reached out with his busted wrists.

Tuuth shoved it in his chest.
“Better off digging than dying, for now anyway, Stranger.”

Grimacing, Venir wrapped his hands around it and shuffled away, half dragging his feet. He could barely walk. He was dizzy. Thirsty. Hours ago he’d barley had the strength to watch the masses of the Royal Riders be slaughtered, but he
’d held on through the bitter end. Watching the underlings chop brave men into bits and pieces was hard. Watching them burn in a pyre was even worse. The stench of burning flesh stung his eyes. It was suffocating.

“Stranger
.” Tuuth blocked his way with his big body. “What does that tattoo on your back mean, ‘
V
’?”