The Darkslayer: Book 05 - Outrage in the Outlands Read online

  Melegal continued, “I believe that’s from the Arena.” He clapped his hands together. “Are all the exits sealed?”

  Drat! There'd be no way to smuggle Brak and Jubilee out.

  “We’ll catch those black fiends yet! Now go!” he ordered. So willing to listen, those sentries. If only more people did as they were told.

  “Yes, Detective,” they said, trotting down the corridor and out of sight.

  Melegal opened the closet.

  “Come on!”

  “Where are we going?” Jubilee asked, her little toes on his heels. “They said all the exits are closed.”

  “And so they are, as far as they know, but if you have any better ideas, I'd like to hear them.”

  “Well—”

  Melegal grabbed her by the wrist, saying, “Shut up!” as he whisked her away.

  “Hungry,” Brak said, holding his stomach.

  They dashed down the corridor that led them to the kitchen.

  Two sentries stood alone at the top of the steps.

  “Halt!” one said, lowering a spear at Melegal’s chest.

  “You men need to secure the arena, Lord Almen’s under attack,” he said, holding out his brooch.

  “We’re not going anywhere, Detective.”

  Leave. Leave. Leave.

  Melegal pinched the bridge of his nose. He suddenly had a massive headache.

  “Are you all right, Detective?”

  Lord’s no! “I’d be better if you did as I said. I caught these prisoners trying to escape, but the dungeons are filled with underlings. We need every last man to get them under control, and you two fish faces are standing here letting your entire future fall into ruin. Lord Almen will have a fit when he hears about this.”

  The sentry poked Melegal in the chest with the tip of his spear.

  “Sounds like a bunch of horse slat if you ask me. The last man who failed this post was guillotined, and that man was my brother.”

  Not good. These sentries weren’t going anywhere, even if the Castle was on fire. He had to think of something else, or kill them.

  Melegal had opened his mouth to speak when one of the worst sounds he'd ever heard came from down the hall. The sentries’ faces drew up in horror. He peeked around the corner and down the hall. A man covered in flesh-eating worms was running his way, his own fingernails digging into his face. Behind him were the hulking form of the Vicious and two cloaked figures dragging the disabled form of … Sefron.

  Melegal grabbed the shaft of the man’s spear and pulled him forward, slipping behind him in one motion.

  “Every man for himself!” he said, shoving them down the hall.

  “What the,” one man said, falling over the other.

  Brak, stuffing a loaf of bread in his face, and a terror stricken Jubilee bounded down the staircase.

  They learn fast when death is so close.

  At the bottom, Brak and Jubilee were pounding on the door.

  “It’s locked!”

  “Get out of my way,” Melegal said, shoving through them and dropping to his knees.

  Another painful wail billowed from the top of the stair.

  Click. Clack. Click. Melegal's slender fingers worked his tools in the keyhole. CLICK.

  He shoved the door open, spilling Brak and Jubilee inside. He slammed it shut and locked it. Lord Almen’s study was empty and undisturbed. Jubilee ran over to the desk and snatched up Leezir’s ash white cudgel. She hugged it and looked at Melegal.

  “It’s yours!” he said. “Brak, pull open that bookshelf.”

  “Hmrph?” he said, trying to swallow a mouthful of bread.

  “Slerg Child, help him!”

  WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! …

  The hinges on the heavy door were shaking loose.

  Melegal rummaged through the objects tucked away in the corner and wrapped his hands around Tonio’s sword and something else he’d noticed before that he tucked into his belt. What have we here?

  He jumped over the desk and slid behind the open bookshelf. The hammering at the door stopped, but the hinges and fixtures were glowing red hot.

  He stepped through the threshold of the tiny doorway and closed it behind him. It was pitch black.

  “I can’t see anything,” Jubilee complained.

  Melegal stuck his coin of light in his hand, handed Brak the sword, and snatched the key from the peg.

  “Follow to the bottom,” he said as fast as he could, running down the steps into the darkness.

  Keys. Keys. Keys.

  Leaping down the next stairs and landing on the bottom, he dashed across the threshold in the dark. What if the keys aren’t there? What if Lord Almen removed them? Were these keys what the underlings were after? Why else would they be here? Sefron! Melegal’s quick mind was putting things together. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Light spilled out into the room. Jubilee and Brak were coming, but they weren’t alone. The sound of wood splintering came from above.

  Melegal ran his hands over the alcove wall. A cold piece of metal brushed against his fingertip. He plucked them from the wall one at a time. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. I have them! He bolted for the last door, unlocked it, and entered. Brak and Jubilee made it to the landing, running toward the opposite side.

  “This way, you two idiots!” Melegal screamed.

  Jubilee whirled, shining the bright beam of light in his eyes.

  “Point that down, and hurry!”

  He could hear a fierce snarling coming down the steps. Ahead of him, Brak and Jubilee were moving horribly slowly. They’re going to die and get me killed.

  As they ran past the landing, speeding his way, an underling mage appeared, teeth gnashing, fingertips glowing, the air beginning to shimmer with power.

  “Faster!” They’re not going to make it!

  He felt the air begin to split as the mage’s bright magic coiled around its arms.

  Zing! Zing! Zing! Zing! Zing! Zing!

  It shrieked in rage as Melegal filled its face full of darts.

  Brak and Jubilee raced into the closet, and Melegal closed the door.

  “What!”

  The door wouldn’t shut. Eight claws had hold of it and ripped it open. There the Vicious stood, tall and nasty. Melegal felt his heart stop. They were dead.

  Wham!

  Pain exploded the creature's face as Jubilee blasted it in the knee with the glowing white cudgel. Melegal jerked her back and slammed the door shut. Melegal couldn't tell their screams from his as his mind twisted inside out.

  CHAPTER 17

  How do you kill a tree with arms, legs and muscle? Fogle Boon couldn’t help but marvel at the man who towered at twenty feet tall.

  “Do something, Fogle!” Cass urged him as they both stepped back from the smoke.

  WHANG!

  He flinched as Cass dug her fingers into his arm and an object came careening towards them, stopped, and settled in the dust.

  “It’s Mood,” Fogle exclaimed, his feet moving faster than his lips. Chongo galloped past him and bared down, growling at Mood’s side. The over-sized dwarf's body was trembling as he tried to rise from the ground.

  “HOW DID THAT FEEL, RANGER? HA! HA! HA! ARE YOU DEAD?” The giant said as its footsteps thundered closer.

  Chongo was barking and growling, the hairs rising on his massive necks, two sets of canine teeth bared. But Fogle had a feeling it was going to take more than dog bites to stop that giant. Where in Bish did that man come from? Fogle lurched at the giant’s thunderous step. Mood was struggling to rise and mumbling something under his bloodied face and beard. That’s when Fogle noticed the bone sticking out of the dwarf's shoulder. His stomach became queasy.

  “Cass, shut Chongo up and drag Mood out of here!” he said, fanning the dust from his face.

  “What are you going to do?” she said, rushing over to Chongo and swinging her legs onto his back.

  “Something! Now go!”

  “But—”

  “Hurry!”

/>   Chongo bit down on Mood’s foot and started dragging him away as Fogle fell to his knees and filled his hands with dirt and sand. He closed his eyes and summoned the little power he had within. Swinging his hands around in big circles, he chanted the words and let the sand fly free.

  The dust and dirt lifted from the ground, thickening and swirling. A small sand storm encompassed the giant, and it covered its eyes in the nook of its elbow. Fogle fell back away from the storm. The entire area was nothing more than a swirling white brown smoke. Fogle brushed the dust from his hands. That should buy us some time.

  “HA! HA! HA! TUNDOOR SMELLS A WIZARD! MMMM … I SHALL EAT YOU AND HAVE YOUR MAGIC! HA! HA! HA!”

  Fogle ran, catching up with Cass, Chongo and Mood. I’m not getting eaten by anything. What he wouldn’t do to have the underling power of floating.

  “Now what?” Cass yelled at him.

  “We’ve got to lift up Mood. Send him away with Chongo! Are there any horses or dwarves left?”

  “I don’t see any.”

  “Just help me get him up,” Fogle said.

  “He’s too heavy in all this gear!” Cass complained. “I’m not an orc!”

  The hairs on the back of Fogle’s neck stood on end as everything around them went perfectly still. It was as if time stopped. He turned to look back where the giant was. The storm, the sand, and the smoky air were all gone. Not even the giant remained.

  “Where in the word of Bish did—”

  “HA! HA! HA!” the giant bellowed as it materialized behind them, war hammer raised over its head, trapezoid bulging on its neck.

  “CASS!” Fogle screamed as the giant swung the hammer down with all of its power.

  WHAM!

  Fogle felt his world coming to an end as Cass exploded into thousands of tiny white, black and yellow butterflies that sputtered and fluttered in every direction.

  “Cass!” he yelled as the giant raised its hammer once more. There was no sign of the woman, only a large indentation the soil. She was gone.

  “TUNDOOR CRUSH YOU, TOO NOW, WIZARD!”

  “NO!” Fogle yelled back, raising his arms forward. “Wizard blast Tundoor now!”

  A white hot missile left one hand, striking the giant in the knee.

  Tundoor roared.

  Fogle let out another and another.

  Ssszram! Ssszram! Ssszram!

  One missile followed the other, the next bigger and more powerful than last. The magic shards created holes in the giant's leg and tore the flesh from his bones. Tundoor toppled backward, falling hard like a massive catapult stone.

  Sweat dripping in his eyes, Fogle fell to his knees and fought for his breath. Smoke was rolling from his fingers, and the magi fires had singed the edges of his robes. A series of heavy booted footsteps rushed past. It was Eethum the Blood Ranger and a pair of black bearded dwarves, axes hoisted over their shoulders. Chongo charged forward, digging and clawing into the face of the reeling giant.

  Fogle couldn’t make heads or tails of all of the thrashing that was going on. All he wanted to do was figure out what happened to Cass. The butterflies, or at least what he thought were butterflies, were gone, his energy along with them. He spit the dust from his mouth and tried to speak. He doubled over. Retching came instead. What is wrong with me? Where’s Cass?

  “TUNDOOR KILL YOU ALL!” the giant said, face full of anguish as it rose to one knee, hammer swinging into a dwarf soldier that was too slow to dodge. The small man’s teeth shattered as his skull was driven into his neck like a nail.

  Fogle winced and looked away. Cass! He looked around and caught sight of Mood rising to his feet, hand axe dragging in his bloody hand as he staggered into the fray. There was nothing Fogle could do to stop him. He could barely hold his throbbing head up for the discomfort behind his eyes.

  “ALMOST DEAD! ALL OF YOU WILL FEEL TUDOOR'S POWER!”

  He smashed the hammer into the ground where Eethum was just standing.

  “FEEL MY WRATH!”

  The hammer cracked a pile of boulders into rubble.

  “MY FURY!”

  Fogle lifted his chin up and stared. The enormous giant—with jewelry the size of barrels hanging from its ears, teeth as big as Fogle's head, and the maddened look of a bull on its snorting face—didn’t seem real. It was something that appeared in nightmares. It couldn’t possibly be real. He wondered if his grandfather Boon had ever taken on such monsters before. Boon had at least survived long enough to become old, gray and crazy. Fogle was pretty certain his life wasn’t going to last that long. Maybe a few more seconds at best.

  Eethum, black-faced and red bearded, went spinning to the ground as the hammer clipped him on the shoulder.

  Chongo's claws tore into the giant's chest, but the giant grabbed him by the nape of one neck and flung him away.

  This is it, Fogle thought with a sinking feeling.

  “TIME FOR TUNDOOR TO EAT YOU, WIZARD. MAN WITH MAGIC TASTE GOOD!” He said, reaching towards him with a hand as big as a cart. “HA! HA! URK!”

  Tundoor’s eyes widened like big white moons. Atop his massive back, Mood was hanging onto a handful of the giant’s hair and chopping into the giant’s skull with unfettered fury.

  “LET GO! STOP!” The giant cried out, arms flailing back towards the pest that was carving a canoe in his skull. “PLEASE! TUND—”

  Mood sunk his axe wrist deep inside Tundoor’s head and wrenched it free.

  The giant’s body convulsed then pitched forward like a toppled tower. His big face crashed inches from Fogle, his eyes gawping in wonder. Mood lay still on top of the giant's back.

  Fogle rubbed his aching head. Only he, Chongo, Mood, Eethum and a single black-bearded dwarf remained.

  “Does he live?” he asked.

  Eethum stumbled over and slid Mood from atop the giant's blood smeared back and lowered him to the ground. He wasn’t breathing.

  “Well?” Fogle managed to say, despite his dry mouth.

  Eethum shook his head.

  “Pardon me for saying, but he should be dead.” Fogle said, rubbing the numbness in his hands. “We all should be. How did he manage that?”

  “He summoned the Odenson. Part of the Blood Ranger craft where our mystic blood allows us do things beyond our natural power. Some use it for great feats in contests, others to turn the tide of a battle. But there is a price.” Eethum tried to pull the axe from Mood’s grasp, but it would not budge.

  “What is the price?” Fogle said, managing to rise to his feet.

  Eethum eyed him with fierce green eyes and shook his head.

  “The Everslumber overtakes him.”

  “How long is that?”

  Eethum snorted.

  “The last time it happened, a Blood Ranger slumbered for years.”

  Fogle gulped. He’d finally gotten used to the ancient dwarf, and now he was gone.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  “I’ll take him home.”

  “But what about our journey?”

  Eethum reached under Mood’s battered figure, hoisted him up in his arms, and said, “It’s your journey now, Wizard. I have to take care of my king.” The Blood Ranger started limping away.

  “But, where are you going? What if there are more giants? I can’t take them alone.”

  “Make a fire, rest, gather your resources, Wizard. Be better prepared next time.”

  Fogle felt like he was the only man left in the world as he surveyed the carnage. Four dead giants lay baking under the suns. The black bearded dwarves, all but one, so far as he guessed, were dead. Cass!

  He hurried over to the spot where Cass had stood before she was pulverized. He sat down at the edge of the big indentation in the ground and ran his fingers though the dirt. There was no sign of her, but there was blood. He looked over at the hammer the giant wielded. There was a lot of blood on that hammer. I hope it’s only dwarven. Yet a sad feeling overwhelmed him. He sunk his head in his hand and clutched his fingers in his hair.

>   “No.” he panted. “No. She can’t be gone.”

  Chongo lumbered behind him and was panting down his neck.

  “This is your fault,” he said, pushing away his nose.

  “It certainly is not!” Cass snapped.

  Fogle jumped to his feet.

  The beautiful druid woman sat perched on top of Chongo’s saddle. Tiny black, white and yellow butterflies adorned her long white hair.

  Fogle shuffled to her side, grabbed the warm ankle of her sensual leg, and gaped up at her.

  “I’m real,” she said, smiling down on him. “You’re handsome when you smile, Fogle. You should try it more,” she said, sliding down into his arms.

  All of his passions flooded him when he felt her sensual body slide along his. He kissed her deeply, arms tightening around her waist as she melted in his arms. After a few long moments, she broke way.

  “Hmmm … Fogle, you are learning,” she said in his ear. “But right now we have more important things to worry about.”

  “How did you... ”

  “Burst into butterflies? Oh, that’s something for only druids to know. We’re about as easy to kill as we are to understand,” she said with a bewitching smile.

  “It’s just us now,” he said, stepping away and stroking the big dog’s necks. “Sorry, Chongo.”

  Chongo licked him in the face.

  Ugh!

  Cass giggled. “He’s forgiven you, but it looks like he’s ready for the next leg of the journey. You look worried.”

  Fogle looked around, lost in a world that he didn’t understand. Rock, dirt, clay and the suns that always sizzled. His robes, a fine gift, were almost in tatters, but all things considered, they'd held up well. Still …

  “I am. I'm used to Mood being around, but he’s going to be out for a while. Eethum left me with good advice, the likes of 'Be better prepared next time.'” He began pacing. “No one said anything about giants in the Outlands. Underlings I was ready for, but not giants. Where on Bish did they come from? Why’d they attack us?”

  Cass shrugged her slender shoulders. “They hate dwarves.”

  “Have you ever seen giants before?”

  “No. But just because I hadn’t seen them didn’t mean they didn’t exist.”