The Darkslayer: Chaos at the Castle (Book 6) (48 page)

Behind them, t
he underlings were coming. Chittering and screeching as they entered the War Room.

“We either fight them out here, or in there, but hav
ing that big door between us will buy us some time to prepare, at least,” Boon said. “I say we go in.”

“Well, time
’s a wasting,” Venir said, watching the underlings tear up the corridor. “It’s now or never, Wizard.”

“Fine!” Fogle said, being the first to enter.

Boon was next, followed by the Black Beards, Eethum and Venir, who pulled on the door handle, trying to close it.

“See any underlings yet
?” Venir said between clenched teeth.

No one said anything.

Venir and Eethum kept pulling, but the underlings fought them on the other side.

“Heave!” he
yelled.

Eethum grunted.

Venir pulled with all his might, pinching underling fingers around the edges.

“Hurk!”

The door sealed shut. Eethum slammed the bolt in place.

“Whew!”

Suddenly, Venir’s instincts caught fire. He knew he’d made a big mistake. In the distance, something evil chittered and twisted.

CHAPTER 67

“Dogs,” Creed said. “Has to be.”

Melegal could hear nails scratching at the ceiling above them.

“It’s your cat that led them to us, Melegal,” Creed said, “but I can handle them if they catch up. Just lead us.”

With Lorda hanging onto his hand,
Melegal led the way through the winding secret passage until the clawing above them came to a stop.

“See
? They’re stuck in one room, and we’re beneath another, so it’s not my cat.” Shining a tiny beam of light forward, he realized Octopus was no longer around.
Good.
He wasn’t going to admit it, but Creed was probably right.

“They’re still going to catch up with us,” Creed said
, eyes glowing in the dark through The Cowl.

Melegal
shook his head. Something about the man disturbed him. Creed was eerie. Unpredictable. And to make matters worse, he was a Bloodhound. Part of a notorious bunch of chaotic goons.
Keep your back in the front and front in the back.
There was no telling what the man would do, and he had the armament now. Melegal remembered Jarla, who had it before. She was the most evil woman Venir ever knew.

“Just keep your swords
ready, Creed. We’ve still got a shot at getting out of here yet.”

“Are we going to the
Throne Room?”

“Aye. We’re going to steal a
Key.”
Or as many as I can get my hands on.

***

Melegal’s eyes glared through a peep hole.

The
Throne Room was empty. No guards. No underlings. No Keys. No hat.

Where in Bone could they be?

“What is it, Melegal?” Lorda clung to him. “What do you see?”

“Nothing,” he said, “see for yourself. It seems they’ve moved the bloody things.”

“If I were a Key, where would I be?” Creed said, oddly.

On the one hand, Melegal was relieved he didn’t have to face the underlings
. On the other hand, he’d have to start all over again, with the underlings already looking for them.

“Perhaps I can find out, Melegal,” Lorda suggested. “Lords Catten and Verbard are working with my husband. If I can get to them
…”

“No
! They tried to kill you once already. Besides, I can only assume they are either in the Keep or the Chamber.”

“Perhaps the Chamber is where we should go. The
Keys will be there at some point, won’t they?” she said, pressing up against him. “We could hide and wait them out.”

“I’ve already thought of that,” he said, rubbing
his aching neck. He brushed up against Lorda who brushed back.
So amazing. Even in perilous times
. “But they probably have more guards there than anywhere.”

“Then I’ll have to kill them all
,” Creed said.

The madness never ends.

All Melegal wanted was his hat, at least one of the Keys, and his own castle. He was pretty sure his own castle was the most attainable of the three.

“Move or die, Detective,” Creed said. “Move or die.”

***

“I’ll be,”
Lord Verbard said. “He’s butchered.”

Lord Catten was holding up Master Kierway’s head, unable t
o hide the shock in his golden eyes.

“Do you think Master Sinway will be angered or pleased
?” Catten said, handing the head to one of his Juegen.

Verbard gawped
at the mutilated Vicious on the ground. “Probably more angered about the Vicious than his son.” He shook his head. “What do you make of this, Jottenhiem?”

“A swordsman,” the red-eyed commander said
. “An outstanding one at that. Master Kierway was one of the finest swordsmen in the Underland, after me and a few others, of course.”

“You boast, Commander,” Catten said
. “Much as I hate to admit it, Kierway’s skill was without rival.”

Jottenhiem glowered at him
. “If you say so, Lord Catten.”

“Stay close, Commander,” Verbard said. “Whoever did this… well…”

“Might be The Darkslayer, Brother? Is that what you’re thinking?”

It was exactly what Verbard was thinking. It worried him. It more than worried him.

“Eep!”

The bat-winged imp buzzed up to him out of nowhere
, rubbing its taloned fingers together.

“Yess,
Lordsss. Is it time to kill?”

“It’s always time to kill,
” Verbard said, “but the hunt must go on first. Find who did this, imp, and report back to me, immediately.”

“As you wish,
Lordsss Verbard,” Eep hissed and looked at his brother, “and Catten.”

Blink.

With Eep gone, Verbard and Jottenhiem were continuing their brief investigation when he discovered something else.

“We’ve another problem,” Verbard said.

“Oh
, and what is that?” Catten replied.

“Master Kierway’s
Key is gone.”

“Well, Master Sinway won’t be happy about that either, but he said we only need
ed one Key. We still have seven. Kierway’s Key didn’t do much of anything.”

“It
did enough to help anyone escape.”

Catten twirled a dark gray cap on his fingertip
. “Are you suggesting The Darkslayer fled?”

“We don’t know
that it was The Darkslayer.” Verbard’s nails dug into his palms. “And what is that on your finger?”

“A mystic
al item.”

“What does it do?” Verbard
’s hand slid inside his pocket over his Orb of Imbibing.

“I don’t know yet, but I will soon.”

“It’s ugly.”

“It’s charming.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be wearing it when Master Sinway arrives.”

Catten slid it in
to his pocket. “I suppose the time has come to greet him.” He pulled a Key from his pocket. “Shall I let him enter, or shall you? I could lead him to your Throne Room, if you like.”

“Or I could lead him to yours,
Brother. But we’d better be rid of this scourge first.”

Verbard tossed Lord Almen’s whip to Jottenhiem.

“Soon you might get your chance to prove who is better: Kierway or you, Commander.”

CHAPTER 68

Venir felt like one side of his body was going out the other.

“Bish! What is happeningggg
?”

He felt the wind whoosh through his hair
. A split second later he stopped.

“Fight, Man! Fight!”

It was the old wizard, Boon, yelling. Yellow strands of light licked from his fingertips, striking at the hive of underlings surrounding them.

Choking down the
queasiness, Venir lashed out.

Slash!

An underling warrior fell dead with its neck open.

“You fight well, Warrior
.” Eethum banged one attack away and countered another. “But can you fight long?”

Glitch!

The Blood Ranger gored the underling’s chest.

Venir, brow buckled, did what he did best. He swung and swung
, giving no thought to where he was or what he did.

“Fight and die!” he cried

***

Fogle’s first question wasn’t
‘Where am I?’ but ‘How much longer am I going to live?’

He blasted the first underling he saw in the face, knocking a hole in it and barreling two more over.
In the dim light, he caught glimpses of a large chamber that was rows deep in underlings.

I can’t be in the Underland
! I can’t be!

He summoned a mystic
al shield and glanced over his shoulder. The door they’d come in was sealed.

There
must be another away out of here.

Two underlings converged on him, mouths wide, curved swords low. The first struck hard, its edge glancing off his shield
, cracking it. The other slammed into him with its full weight, pushing him backward. They kept swinging, chipping away shards of magic one piece at a time. Something ignited in Fogle.

No!

The underlings. They’d caused so much anguish. So much pain. He’d lost Cass because of them!

NO!

He shoved his arms forward. His attackers were flung backward, clearing a hole at the bottom of a wide torch-lit stairwell that was otherwise filled with more underlings coming down.

“Hahahaha,” he heard his grandfather laughing, “Brilliant
, Fogle! Brilliant!”

Boon flung a ball of smoke up the stairwell. It exploded in a puff of air, leaving behind it a wall of stone. Those underlings were sealed outside the chamber.

“Have at them
, warriors!” Boon cried, eyeing the hoard of underlings that still surrounded the party. “Let’s route these fiends once and for all! Hahahaha!”

Like two Juggernauts, Venir and Eethum gored every black thing breathing.

“Bish!” Fogle lifted his feet from the suction of the floor. The fallen were being sucked dry. Dry husks in an instant. A nasty chill went through him. “What is this place?”

***

“Eight!”

Chop!

“Nine!”

Slice!

Arms heavy, chest filled with fire, Venir kept swinging. Mood’s well-crafted axes could cut metal, but they weren’t as light and balanced as Brool’s keen edge that he’d grown so accustomed to over the years.

Gashed from chin to toe, he fought on and on, mindless of anything else. He’
d gotten his wish. He’d sent more underlings to the grave. He could die complete. Happy. He buried one axe in the next underling’s chest.

Large drops of dark
blood showered the odd mosaic floor, which sucked every bit up.

“Venir!”

Eyes blazing, he whirled.

“They’re all dead,” Boon said. “Look around.”

Twenty underlings, maybe thirty, were being sucked dry by the floor, their flesh withering.

“A
w.” Eethum knelt down at the armored shell of a Black Beard. The dwarf was one of only three that now remained.

Venir’s wounds dripped like sweat
, feeding the yearning floor. His skin crawled. “We need out of this cursed place.” He walked over and tugged on the handles of many doors. “Hurk! Get over here, Eethum, and help me!”

The dwarves remained kneeled, holding hands, heads bowed over their fallen comrade.

Venir tried the next. Then another after that.

“You need a
Key, Venir,” Boon said, with Fogle standing by his side, panting.

“I’ve got my own
Key.” Venir swung Mood’s axe into the wood, juttering his arms. “Son of a Bish! It’s harder than stone.”

“It’s magic,” Boon said,
taking a stroll around the room. “Hmmm… six doors.” He peeked into the alcove, where seven lonely pegs remained. “I’ll be. Strange. Tricky.”

“What
?” Fogle’s face was drawn up as he shook underling guts from his robes.

“This room,” Boon said, his voice filled with wonder
, “I believe is an ancient device I’ve read about before. It’s a Chamber of Transportation. As I understand, it can take you anywhere in the world. Very mysterious magic this is. Ancient. Dark. Dangerous.” He ran his hand over one of the doors. “If the underlings have the Keys… my… well, that would explain a lot of things.”