The Ogre Apprentice (24 page)

Locksher sent a tiny flow of fire at the creature, setting its fur ablaze. There was no noticeable reaction right away. It continued its silent attack. “Hmm. There is no fear response. No attempt at self preservation.”

The wizard increased the heat until the creature’s entire body was covered with flames. The beast’s behavior didn’t change. It continued trying to get at Fist until it was completely consumed. Fist drew back in distaste as wisps of smoke blew across his face. Locksher pursed his lips at the blackened husk that remained.

 “As I suspected. As long as the larvae are alive and the reanimated corpse has the ability to move, it will continue to do so. If we are to fight them with flames, it seems we must do so with caution.” He sighed. “On to the next. Let us try electricity this time. Fist, you’ve seen this work on the larvae before. Will you take care of this one?”

With a reluctant nod Fist targeted the mouse in the center. He sent out a short zap and the mouse fell stiff.

“Interesting, the effect is instantaneous.” Locksher waved a hand over the still body, sending out a probe of magic, then jotted down a quick note. “It seems that the shock burst all of the larvae inhabiting its body. Your ogre kindred were right. Electricity is most effective against this foe.”

“Good,” Fist said. That was the first positive information to come out of this experiment as far as he was concerned. “And the last mouse?”

“Well, the ogres seem to use ‘bashing it’ as their proffered method of dealing with the problem.” Locksher reached out and made a fist.

Two stones rose up from the ground on either side of the mouse and slammed together, crushing it between them. When the two stones fell to the side, the remains of the mouse were still twitching. Locksher stuck his hand out over the creature and nodded.

“I thought that might happen. The body of the mouse insulated the larvae from the force of the blow, but all of its bones are broken, making it unable to move effectively.” He waved his hand, dismissing the shield wards, then shrugged and began writing more notes in his book. “I suppose that breaking the bones of the attacker is an effective way to neutralize the threat until the body can be burned.”

“Was this really necessary?” Fist wondered. “All we did was confirm what Crag and the others already told us.”

“And I should just take the ogres’ word for it?” Locksher didn’t look up from his book. “Now that I have tested their theories, I know it for a surety.”

Fist didn’t know why, but something about the way Locksher dismissed Crag’s words out of hand stung him. Frowning, Fist looked at the crushed mouse. It was still moving weakly and with his spirit sight, he could still see it pulsing with black.

A curious impulse overtook him and he reached out and picked it up. The little body was hot in his hand and he felt the malevolence of the maggots prying at the bond.  Gritting his teeth, Fist bent his will against it. The malevolence recoiled from his attack and the tiny maggots began squirming free from the mouse’s body, falling into his hand.

“Don’t do that!” Locksher snapped as he realized what Fist had done. He reached out and an arc of electricity leapt from his fingers, stinging the ogre’s hand and popping the bodies of the tiny maggots.

“Ow!” Fist complained, dropping the mouse to the ground and rubbing at his singed fingers. The shock had numbed his arm from the elbow down. “Why did you do that? The bond makes me immune to their magic.”

“Never get overconfident when you are investigating with the unknown!” Locksher snapped, pointing at him with uncharacteristic sternness. “There is no such thing as a perfect defense when it comes to spirit magic.”

Fist blinked. No such thing as a perfect defense? “But . . . Justan’s great grandmother told me so back at the Mage School. She said the bond would protect me.”

“That may be true in part, but I have learned more since leaving the school.” He lifted the ancient leather tome that he had been reading earlier. “This is an in depth study on spirit magic attacks. It’s one of the books that was unsealed by the prophet during the war. Neither Vincent or Mistress Sarine knows I borrowed it, by the way, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell them.

“Anyway, I have learned many things I didn’t know about the nature of spirit magic. For one, it has an inherent weakness; a weakness that those maggots are designed to exploit.”

“What weakness?” Fist said. He squeezed his fingers into a fist repeatedly, trying to get the sensation in them to return.

“What would be the best way to explain this to you?” Locksher bit his lip, frowning. “I’ll start with the basics. Spirit magic is different from elemental magic in one important way. While elemental magic is powered by the mind, spirit magic is powered by the soul. A person’s soul is the sum total of who they are and is immortal. It carries on with you into the next world when you die. However, despite being immortal, your soul is susceptible to attack and can be damaged or coerced by the spirit magic of others.”

“I know that much,” Fist said.

“Good,” Locksher said. “Then it will be easier for you to understand this next part. Everyone’s soul has two forms of defense. The first is your willpower. The second is your physical body.”

“My body?”

“Yes!” Locksher said excitedly. “Your soul doesn’t just inhabit your body. Your body is your physical tie to this world. Think of it like an anchor that holds your soul in place. This is why souls aren’t susceptible to binding magic unless the body is dead.”

Fist blinked. “I guess I haven’t thought of it that way before.”

“It’s a revelation, isn’t it? In fact, your body is probably the strongest spiritual defense you have. This book details ancient spirit magic warfare and the most effective methods are all designed around getting past your body’s defenses.”

Fist frowned. “But I’m protected by the bond.”

“The book talks about the benefits of being bonded and you are right.” Locksher said in agreement. “The bond is an additional layer of defense that others don’t have. Think of it like spiritual armor. It keeps your body from being pierced by spirit attacks. It does not protect you from physical attacks, however. This is why your body is also the greatest weakness you have.”

Locksher could tell by Fist’s expression that the ogre wasn’t understanding him. “Your spirit inhabits your body. All of it, down to each finger. If your body is pierced, your spirit is pierced. Do you see? If one of those larvae were to burrow into your flesh, it would have already made its way past the defense that your bond gives you.”

Fist shivered. “I guess I should thank you for that shock, then.”

“This just means that you can’t let the larvae come into contact with your skin,” Locksher said. “This scarf wouldn’t protect me from that either. The only one of us that is truly immune is probably Charz because he has the bond and I doubt that the larvae could penetrate his thick skin.”

Almost as if on cue, the giant’s voice rang out. “Hey! I been looking for you two.”

The giant was approaching them across the sodden plains, his large feet making loud sucking steps. He was accompanied by Rub and Bash. The two ogres had taken to following Charz everywhere he went. The giant didn’t seem to mind. Fist thought that Charz liked the idea of having two worshippers.

Locksher hurriedly shut the chest containing the maggots and stood, turning to face them. “Is it time to leave, then?”

“Naw,” Charz said. “I just got a message for you.”

As they got closer, Rub gave Locksher an incredulous look. “What is that thing around your neck, Wizard Man?”

“It is a scarf.” Locksher said, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment.

Charz snickered. “And a lovely one, too.”

“A scarf?” Rub asked.

“That means it eats real fast,” said Bash confidently.

Rub leaned closer to Locksher with concern. “It is eating you, wizard man?”

“No. A scarf is an article of clothing that one wears around their neck to keep them warm. It . . .” Locksher rolled his eyes at the dubious looks on their faces. “It’s magic. I wear it to protect me from the ‘evil’.”

“Oh,” said Rub, looking relieved.

“It eats the evil?” asked Bash hopefully.

“No! It’s not that kind of scarf, you idiot,” Charz said with a sigh. As much as the giant had come to enjoy the rough company of the ogres, his patience for their stupidity was wearing thin.

“Oh,” Rub said, not smart enough to realize that he had just been insulted.

“What is the message you have for me, Charz?” Locksher asked.

“Alfred talked to me last night. He’s at the academy with Sir Edge’s mom,” The giant explained. “They got the portal working yesterday and have been meeting with the Academy Council.”

“And what have they decided?” asked the wizard.

Charz shrugged. “I don’t know all the details, but they’re getting together a party to come and meet us.”

“Really?” Fist asked, feeling excited. This would give him a chance to talk to Darlan about his situation.

“Yeah, they’ll meet us somewhere in the plains in a couple days,” the rock giant replied. “Evidently the academy wants to add a few members to our group. They are still deciding who to send.”

“Whomever they choose, it’s a fine idea,” Locksher said. “An academy force can lead us past the villages and make the journey easier.”

“That is good,” Fist said. Finally something about this morning was looking up. He had been worried about that last stretch of the journey.

 “Yeah, good,” Charz said, firing Fist a mischievous grin. “Also that girl gnome that took a liking to you is coming along.”

Fist’s face fell.

That first day of travel through the sodden plains was just as miserable as Fist had feared. The ogres had found the mud a fun distraction at first, laughing every time one of them became stuck and throwing huge sticky handfuls at each other, but by mid morning the novelty had worn off. There was nothing but brown grass and puddles of water as far as their eyes could see and they slogged through the mire, their moods growing fouler by the hour.

That evening, the exhausted group stopped on a wide hillock that rose mostly clear of the mud. Locksher had Fist help him dry the area out even further so that they could light a fire and bed down for the night. The next morning Fist awoke with Puj curled up at his side, Squirrel asleep in the crook of her arm.

That day’s travel was better than the day before. They were able to stay out of the more marshy areas and everyone’s spirits rose. Puj spent most of the day walking right behind Fist and Squirrel stayed on Puj’s shoulder. The animal chattered at the ogress, feeding her shelled seeds and nuts.

Puj found the squirrel’s companionship amusing and did her best to carry on a conversation with him, saying things like, “This is a better day than yesterday, Food” or “I like your red shirt, Food” or “Thank you for the nut, Food.” Squirrel chattered back at her and she pretended to understand. Sometimes she even made lewd remarks about Fist. Squirrel would respond with his little chattering laugh.

This new development grated on Fist. By mid-day, he couldn’t hold his irritation back any longer. Without looking at them, he sent,
What are you doing, Squirrel
?

Me? Nothing
, the little beast said innocently as he shelled a rather large pumpkin seed with practiced clips of his front teeth.

Yes you are
, Fist said.
You are being too nice to Puj. You are encouraging her
.

She is a good ogre
, Squirrel replied. He held out the seed and Puj opened her mouth, letting him toss it in. 
She will make a good mate for you
.

I told you, I don’t want her to be my mate!

Squirrel snorted at his attitude
. Not before, but you like her better now.

She’s an ogress, Squirrel.  They don’t stay with just one mate
. Fist replied as much to remind himself as to convince his bonded. It was true that he had been warming up to Puj over the last few days, but they just weren’t compatible. She wouldn’t be able to comprehend the kind of monogamous relationships that humans tended to have; that he wanted to have.
Besides, she’s not smart enough
.

At that moment, Puj stepped in a hole and stumbled, nearly falling. Squirrel had to grab onto her hair to keep from being thrown free. “Are you alright, Food?” she asked. “I almost squisheded you.”

Squirrel let go of her hair and chattered back at her as if nothing had happened
. She is like you when we met
.

I was much smarter than her
, Fist argued. Surely Squirrel was exaggerating. Even back then he had been more intelligent than the other ogres.
She can’t even say your name right
.

“Food, do you know what I like about Big Fist?” Puj asked.

“His name is not ‘Food’,” Fist snapped, turning his head to shoot her a glare. It was the third time that morning he’d corrected her. “It’s Squirrel.”

“Oh. Yes. Skirl.” Puj said cheerfully, oblivious to his irritation. “You know what I like about Big Fist, Skirl?”

Fist could sense Squirrel’s amusement as he shook his head and chattered questioningly back at her.

“He has a good strong butt,” Puj said. “When I am part of his tribe, I will hold onto it with both hands.”

“Stop talking about that!” Fist yelled, spinning around to face her.

She frowned. “I wasn’t talking to you, Big Fist.”

Fist rolled his eyes. “Squirrel, get off her shoulder right now.”

Squirrel folded his little arms and ignored him.

“I mean it, Squirrel. Get down!” Fist demanded.

No
! Squirrel said, stomping one foot in defiance.

“Why does Skirl have to get down?” Puj said, her brow knit in confusion. “Why can’t he stay with me?”

“His name is Squirrel! And he doesn’t belong to you. He belongs to me!” Fist said.

Puj flinched at the anger in his voice. She grabbed Squirrel off of her shoulder, and held him out to Fist wordlessly, keeping her eyes averted from his. Squirrel chattered in protest and struggled in her grasp. When Fist tried to take him from her hand, he bit Fist’s finger and darted away.

Not your pet
! Squirrel shouted mentally, his thoughts full of anger.

Fist grimaced as he sucked on his wounded finger.
That’s not what I meant
, he said, but Squirrel wouldn’t listen. The little animal climbed Charz’s shoulder and stayed with the giant for the remainder of the day.

It was a quiet night. They didn’t stop until dark and the ogres bedded down right away. Squirrel closed his end of the bond and refused to talk to Fist no matter how many times he tried to apologize. Puj didn’t even try to flirt with him. She put her bedding next to his, but lay down on her side facing away from him.

With a sigh, Fist closed his eyes and reached out to Justan. The distance caused the bond to be extremely narrow, but Fist had a lot of experience dealing with that problem. He muscled his thoughts through until he could brush Justan’s presence. The bonding wizard had a lot to talk about.

Justan had been through an exciting day. He told Fist about his encounter with the nightbeast and subsequent visit to the Jharro Grove for the first time. Fist told him about his own struggles that day and how he had yelled and offended Squirrel. Justan was sympathetic and assured him that Squirrel would forgive him.

They talked deep into the night and by the time they had finished, Fist was quite tired. When he withdrew his thoughts back through the bond, he felt a furry ball of warmth on his chest and knew that Squirrel had returned.

I am sorry, Squirrel
, he said.

Squirrel stirred.
Sleeping
, he mumbled before drifting off again.

Smiling, Fist joined him.

“Toompa!” cried a thunderous voice and Squirrel’s warmth was replaced by a crushing weight.

The ground gave way beneath Fist’s back and suddenly he was falling. Fist windmilled his arms in panic and opened his eyes to find that he was high in the sky. He plummeted past wispy clouds and the air that whipped past his body was freezing cold. As the ground rushed towards him, Fist saw that the earth wasn’t flat, but composed of a series of white jagged spikes. He was about to die.

But the ogre’s demise didn’t come quickly and his panic subsided. The fall lasted for what seemed like several minutes and as he watched the spikes below him grow larger, Fist realized that they weren’t spikes at all, but snow-capped mountains. He was headed for a black dot between the peaks. The black dot increased in size until it became a great lake. Then the smell of death hit him. It wasn’t water below.

Fist struck the black lake with a deafening splat. The landing didn’t hurt, but his panic returned as the frigid air that had surrounded him was replaced by an intense heat. He was completely submerged in the center of a mass of squirming maggots.

“
Don’t let them in
,” warned Locksher’s distant voice.

Fist kept his eyes and mouth clenched closed and pinched off his nose with one hand. He struggled to swim through them towards the surface using one arm, but it was impossible to tell if he was making progress. A tingle swept across his skin and knew that the larvae were starting to nibble at him. Pressure started to build within his mind; a raging dark thing that threatened to overwhelm him.

He fought back, sending vibrating threads of air and earth away from his body in a powerful electric pulse. Thousands of maggots were vaporized all around him and Fist felt a momentary sense of triumph as his head burst free of the black lake and he was able to take a deep breath.  He wasn’t far from the shoreline. Justan was there, reaching out for him. He would survive this.

“
It’s too late
,” said Locksher’s voice.

The pressure in Fist’s mind continued to grow. But why? He felt a sudden tickling sensation in his ear canals and understood. The larvae had gotten inside him after all.

The vile rage built within him until it burst free. Against his will, he pointed towards Justan. A command erupted from his mind and a thick cloud of flies rose from the surface of the lake. They swarmed over Justan, obscuring him from view. Justan started to scream.

Fist awoke with a shout, sitting up so fast that Squirrel was launched from his chest. The little creature struck the edge of the ogre’s bedroll and tumbled into the grass, too deep in his own sleep to react in time. Squirrel flailed about in disorientation for a moment before he stood, trembling.
Bad dreams. Bad dreams
.

“Good. Fist, you’re up!” said Locksher cheerfully, glancing over at the ogre. “I was about to wake you.”

The wizard was standing by the embers of the fire, drinking something hot from a tin cup. Charz stood next to him, his rocky face hanging in a scowl.

“Wake me?” It was early. The sky was a dark blue, the sun still far behind the mountains. Most of the camp was still snoring. Crag was the only other person up. Fist could see him rousting two of the other ogres.

Fist rubbed at his ears. They still itched as if those maggots were inside. That dream had been as vivid as any of the dreams he’d had over the last few months. Only this time there had been something different. He had never landed in that black lake before.

Bad dreams
, Squirrel agreed. He skittered over his pouch and disappeared inside.

Fist blinked. “Did you dream the same thing, Squirrel?”

Bad
, Squirrel said and Fist caught a flash of images from his bonded’s mind. In Squirrel’s dream Fist had been covered in maggots and blood. His eyes were black, his mouth open in a silent roar. Puj was dead at his feet.

Fist shoved the disturbing thoughts away and swallowed. Those were bad dreams indeed. “It’s okay, Squirrel. You’re awake now. It was just a dream.”

I know
. Squirrel emerged from the pouch wearing an orange vest. It was his favorite one. Darlan had told him that orange was a lucky color.
Never sleeping again
.

 “Come on, Fist. Get your boots on,” Locksher urged. “It’s time to meet the academy party.”

“We’re meeting them already?” Fist swung his legs out of his bedroll and began tugging his boots on. He had thought they wouldn’t be meeting up with the academy party until that afternoon.

“They rode hard to get close to us last night.” Charz grumbled. “Then the blasted jerks insisted on meeting us this early. Alfred says they got someplace to be after we’re done.”

 “We is coming too!” announced Crag’s gruff voice. The ogre chieftain came around the fire pit to join them. Burl and Rub were walking not far behind him, both ogres bleary-eyed.

Fist stood and faced his father. “You do not need to come, Crag. I will speak with them.”

“I will go too,” Crag said. “Burl telled me about these academy’s you go to see. They is human warriors. You go to tell them about the evil.”

Fist shot a glare at his half brother, but Burl didn’t meet his eyes. If Crag was at the meeting it could complicate things. The ogres had some difficulty understanding the way humans talked and if Crag decided to be aggressive, Fist could find himself having to stop a fight.

“Okay, Crag. You can come. But you don’t need Burl or Rub.” Rub was stupid and timid and wouldn’t do anything unless Crag told him to, but Burl was an unknown. Fist wasn’t sure how much of an enmity the ogre had developed against humans during the war.

“If the Big and Little People are sending three, the Thunder People will send three,” Crag insisted.

Fist tried to decide if it was worth arguing with him. So far, Crag had honored their agreement and deferred to Fist’s commands, but the chieftain was proud. Fist was sure that if he overruled his father too many times it would cause Crag to cancel their agreement. Fist looked to Locksher for help, but the wizard just shrugged back at him.

Fist sighed. “I will allow it, Crag. But there will be no fighting. The academy warriors are friends. Some of them are part of my tribe.”

“They might attack us,” Burl disagreed. “They hated ogres in the war.”

“That was only because you attacked them first,” Fist growled. He pointed his finger at the ogre. “There will be no fighting today.”

Crag put a hand on Burl’s shoulder and gave Fist a brief nod. “We will only fight if they fight.”

“Good then,” Fist said. He strapped on his breastplate and slid the handle of his mace into the sheath on his back. “Let’s go.”

Charz led the six of them northwest into the plains. The sky slowly brightened and it wasn’t long before they saw the smoke from the academy’s camp on the horizon. As they approached, Fist saw that the party the academy had sent was much larger than expected. Darlan had made it sound like a small group would come, but there were many tents and he counted more than a score of horses. Were they planning on adding that many troops to the mission?