Chaos At The Castle (Book Six) Read online

  Billip winced.

  Jubilee gasped.

  Face reddened, Georgio scrambled to his feet and charged. Slamming into Brak, he lifted the bigger young man from his feet and drove him into the ground. Georgio’s fists hammered into Brak, hitting ribs, face and gut. “You’re gonna pay for that! I’m gonna beat you to death!”

  Brak, the bigger and much older-looking of the two, had his hands full.

  Georgio, a big young man himself, was the quicker of the two, sneaking in punches through Brak’s blocking forearms.

  Billip yawned. He’d seen old three legged dogs fight better.

  “Get him, Brak!” Jubilee yelled, shadow boxing in the air. “Bust his jaw so he can’t eat any more.”

  Over the dirt they tussled, kicking up dust, yelling and growling at eat other.

  “I’m going to kill you!”

  “I hate you!”

  “You skinny ogre!”

  “Potbellied urchin!”

  Billip took a small sip from his canteen, which was getting light. They’d run out of water soon. The past day had worried him. Normally, hunting game of some sort, be it a pheasant or an Outland fox, wasn’t much of a problem, but thanks to the mass exodus from the south, game was harder to come by. And Billip had led them on a more difficult path as well, fearing that other weary travelers would be after them or the meat of Quickster.

  He shook his head.

  Only days ago, he’d been dead set on staying in the City of Bone, helping Trinos to fight and battle the underlings. The next thing he knew, he was leading the young men and Jubilee north towards the City of Three. Did Melegal talk him into it, or was it something Trinos had done? I’m going to get that thief one of these days.

  Turning his attention away from the mirages that littered the barren landscape in the distance and back to the boys, he shook his head.

  Georgio had his meaty fingers around Brak’s neck, and Brak had his around Georgio’s.

  “Stop them, Billip!” Jubilee said.

  He waved her off.

  Crack!

  “Ow!” Brak exclaimed.

  Crack!

  “Ow!” Georgio moaned.

  Nikkel stood over them, his father’s club in his hand.

  Both young men panted for breath. Brak wiped the dust and blood from his nose, and Georgio popped his dislocated finger back into place, grimacing.

  Something tugged at Billip’s heart as he saw Nikkel standing there with Mikkel’s club in his hand. The strapping young man would be a spitting image of his father in a few more years.

  Rubbing his head, Georgio said, “What did you do that for, Nikkel? I was winning.”

  “Were not,” Brak said. “I’m so hungry.”

  “I’m hungrier,” said Georgio.

  Nikkel, who’d been glum and quiet ever since they left, showed the slightest smile.

  “Well, Nikkel,” Billip said, “You found something, didn’t you?”

  Nikkel shrugged his muscular shoulder. “I think so. Come on.”

  ***

  Following Nikkel and Billip, Georgio glanced over his shoulder from time to time. Jubilee sat on Quickster’s back, frowning and holding her stomach. The girl looked like she hadn’t eaten in days, and her hazel eyes were sagging. Beside her and Quickster, Brak walked in long slow strides, but he was able to keep up, eyes forward, chin up and casting a scowl at Georgio before looking away.

  Georgio clenched his fingers in and out of a fist. Even though he healed quickly, they were still sore. Hitting Brak was like hitting rock. The man, or young man, whatever he was, was tough. Unnaturally so, but so was Georgio.

  “What are you looking at?” Jubilee said. “You’re fortunate, you know. Brak could have killed you. He was holding back.”

  Georgio turned and stopped.

  “You want to walk or ride?”

  “I’m a Royal, you should know,” she said, folding her arms across her scrawny chest.

  Georgio rolled his eyes. Jubilee had made it a point to mention that at least a dozen times since they left, and he was getting sick of it. And if she was a Royal, how’d she wind up with them? Venir’s right: all Royals are a pain in the arse.

  “Quickster is mine, little girl, and if you don’t mind your mouth, I’ll have him buck you from the saddle.” He glared at her and put his fingers to his mouth, ready to whistle.

  Jubilee looked away and mumbled something under her breath.

  “What was that?”

  She tightened the cloak around her body and said nothing.

  He glared at Brak.

  The big man stood at Jubilee’s side like a watchdog.

  “You three quit boogering around, else we’ll leave you!” Billip said. “And don’t tempt us! We’d all have been much better off if we left you to begin with!”

  Georgio didn’t even bother to run and catch up. He didn’t have the energy, and it didn’t seem that Jubilee or Brak did either. Instead, they followed the men up ahead, one ravenous step after the other under the blistering heat.

  As for Brak, Georgio still hadn’t sorted out all of his thoughts on him. He hadn’t even seen the big man smile as of yet, and that disturbed him. Brak’s face was familiar. Like Venir’s but different. If it weren’t for the man’s blue eyes, he’d have little resemblance at all. Brak was quiet, whereas Venir was loud. It just didn’t sit well. Other than that, when they weren’t fighting over food, Brak was alright.

  He put his canteen to his lips. Nothing came out. “Ah…”

  And of all things, the two of them could only talk about food, and that’s what got them in trouble to begin with. Staying on watch one night, while the others slept, they got caught up with themselves, talking about food and eating most of it the same night. When Billip woke them up the next day, he was furious. Not only had they fallen asleep, but almost all the rations were gone. It seemed one had been blaming the other ever since, and they were taking their guilt and hunger out on one another.

  Ahead, Billip and Nikkel stood on top of a ridge, talking to each other and pointing downward. Georgio climbed the rocky hill and stood between them.

  “What is it?” Georgio said, looking over the ridge.

  A field of cacti lay below: some tall, others round, some three times bigger than a man.

  Georgio held his rumbling stomach. “So, Nikkel found some cactus. I don’t see how that’s of much help to us. Maybe the round ones would help, but there’s no way to get to them. What are we supposed to do, Nikkel? Feed on Cactus needles?”

  Billip shot him a look. “There’s game in those needles, Boy. All we have to do is roust it out.”

  “And how do you suppose we do that?” Jubilee said with a smug look on her face. “And what kind of game are we talking about?”

  “Pheasant, antler rabbits, and foxes to start,” Nikkel said. “Not to mention the water in the round husks.”

  “There’s no way to get to them!” Georgio said. “It’s impossible. Let’s just keep moving north. All we’ve done now is waste time by moving east.”

  All of them were hungry and weary. Eyes were tired and full of grit. Their clothes and armor coated with Outland dust so thick you couldn’t tell what color they were. They’d have been better off staying with the caravan, but Billip had talked them away from that. Now they stood, baking in the sun with nothing to eat or drink but sand and needles.

  “Get your bows ready.” Brak lowered himself over the ridge like a giant-sized sloth.

  Jubilee jumped from her saddle. “Brak! What are you doing? Get back up here, Brak! Get back up here!”

  “You fool, get up here!” Billip shouted. “We don’t even have a plan yet! There’re snakes down there, vipers and such. Step in a nest of those and you’re in for! Slat, he’s still going in.”

  Brak ambled down the incline another thirty feet before he stumbled and rolled into a wall of needles at the bottom. Groaning, he got up and started to growl.

  “Hungry.” He pulled Tonio’s sword from it
s sheath. “Tired of being hungry.”

  Georgio looked at Jubilee and the others, swallowing. “What’s wrong with him?”

  There was a wild look to the man. An inferno erupting within. The man Georgio had wrestled with moments ago was gone, replaced by something else, something savage.

  “Oooooh,” Jubilee said. She took her place beside Billip. “I’ve seen this before.”

  In a clap of thunder, Brak turned from man to monster, hacking furiously through the impassable wall of needles.

  “He’s gone mad,” Billip exclaimed, readying his bow.

  “No, he’s gone berserk!” Nikkel said.

  “RAWR!”

  Georgio hopped back. The maddened sound of Brak’s voice rose the hair on his arms.

  Brak hewed through the green cacti and needles like tall grass. A wild man.

  “That fool’s bound to get snake bit in there!” Billip said, drawing his bow string alongside his cheek. “Look!”

  Three antlered rabbits, bigger than cats, darted across the valley of cacti.

  Twang!

  Clatch-Zip!

  One rabbit tumbled into the dust with two holes in it.

  “You got him!” Jubilee shouted.

  “Nikkel, you shot mine!” Billip said. “You take the rear; I take the front.” He nocked another arrow. “That’s how Mikkel and I used to go.”

  Nikkel cranked back the line on his crossbow.

  “Got it!”

  A silence fell. They all watched the rustling of the towering cacti swaying back and forth, many falling down under the sub-human roars of Brak the Berserker.

  “What kind of man fights cactus?” Nikkel exclaimed, eyeing Jubilee.

  “A hungry one. A very hungry one.”

  “Georgio,” Billip said, “Get down there and fetch that rabbit before a fox gets it.”

  “But…” He looked toward the path Brak had created. “What about—”

  “Get your hungry arse down there! Run back up here if you’re scared!”

  A bloom of pheasant burst out of the cacti and into the air.

  Clatch-zip!

  “Hold your shot, Nikkel!” Billip said, “You have to wait till they clear the grove. Slat. Do I have to do it all myself?”

  Twang!

  Twang!

  Two rock pheasants spiraled out of the sky, falling along the jagged rim.

  “Get down there!” Billip ordered, nocking his bow and searching the grove.

  “RAWR!”

  Georgio’s boots slid over the slope, over the loose rocks and dirt, until he hit bottom and fell on his back. “Blast it!” He plucked needles eight inches long from his arms.

  A dozen feet away, the rabbit lay just outside the cacti, an arrow and bolt in its belly and thigh.

  He glanced down the path that Brak had hewn down. Cacti lay fallen and torn, leaving an ugly path behind, but there was room, just very little. He plucked another needle from his thigh. I must look like a porcupine by now. He grimaced.

  “Toss up the rabbit,” Nikkel yelled, his black face glistening with sweat.

  “I will!” Aggravated, Georgio snatched it up off the ground and slung it up the hill. “Happy now?”

  Nikkel disappeared, but he could see Jubilee’s eyes peeping down at him over the lip of the ridge.

  “Go get Brak,” she ordered.

  Georgio yelled back up, “You go get him!”

  “You’re already down there, Stupid! Besides, you ate all the food too! So go fetch it!”

  “Aw, I’m going!” He stomped off into the cacti.

  She was right, but he wasn’t very comfortable going after Brak, not after the last look he’d seen in the man’s eyes. It wasn’t human. It was something else. Something that rent flesh from bones with its teeth or bare hands. He can’t kill me. He can’t kill me. Could he eat me? He shook his head. He would have to be hungrier than I am, to eat me.

  Tip-toeing his way down the path, he was twenty yards in before he heard Brak’s mad snarling and mutterings again. It tickled his spine.

  “Brak,” he said, barely audible.

  White-knuckled hand on hilt, he took a deep breath and forged ahead, painful needles biting into him time and time again. He could hear Billip calling out for him. If they want me, they can come and find me themselves.

  “Blasted needles!” he cursed, wiping the sweat from his eyes. There was no avoiding them, no matter how much he tried, and they burned too.

  Twenty feet deeper, he twisted and turned.

  Ahead, a small clearing opened up, with Brak standing in the middle, plucking a yellow fruit from a plant Georgio’d never seen before. Two at a time, Brak was stuffing them in his mouth, chomping and squirting the pulp down his chin and jaw. The man had more needles in him than Georgio could ever count. They were in his face, his arms, thighs… Tiny droplets of blood ran over his face and down his clothes. It was painful to look at. How Brak ate only fruit and no needles, he didn’t know.

  “Alright Brak, you win; you’re hungrier than I am.” Georgio sheathed his sword. “What kind of fruit is that anyway?” He got closer. “I’ve never seen it before. It might be poisonous, you know.”

  Turning, Brak snarled, raising his sword.

  Georgio froze.

  “Easy now! Go ahead, eat all you want. I can wait.” Georgio plucked some small needles from his meaty forearms. “But save some for everyone else.”

  Brak kept eating, grunting and swinging his sword.

  “That used to be my sword, you know. Venir gave it to me.”

  Brak didn’t understand. His face was still sub-human, a wild animal ready to strike at any moment. Georgio didn’t care. He was too hungry. Too tired. He sat down.

  As ten more fruit disappeared down Brak’s throat, the sword in his arm lowered, and the growling stopped. Stuffing another fruit in his mouth, Brak blinked at Georgio and held his hand out. “Hungry?”

  Georgio nodded, extending his hand.

  “Good,” Brak said, tossing it over. A smile riddled in needles crossed his lips.

  A long shadow rose up behind Brak. It was a snake. Big, thick and hooded. Eyes like emeralds and a red flicking tongue.

  “Brak, look out!”

  Brak turned, but too late. The snake sank its fangs into the back of the big man’s shoulder.

  Georgio jumped to his feet and ripped his sword out.

  Two more snakes slithered from beneath the cacti, rearing up and blocking his path.

  Georgio struck first, clipping one’s pale yellow underbelly.

  Something like a hot knife sank deep into his thigh, numbing his leg.

  Instantly, the bright light of the suns swirled.

  CHAPTER 46

  The giant’s feet made a cloud of dust with every step.

  Listless and weary, robes dragging on the ground, Fogle Boon followed Barton. His sunburnt face peered into the clouds. Cass was gone again, and the suns of Bish had already set twice since then. He was miserable. Sick.

  “Hold up.” He fell to his knees.

  Barton stopped and turned, scratching his head. “What are you stopping for, Wizard? We’re almost there.”

  Fogle scanned the area. There was nothing aside from the bone trees and tiny lizards that scurried across the ground. Still, he’d been following Barton, wandering aimlessly, empty, with no idea where they were going. He hadn’t had any luck finding the remnants of his ebony hawk, Inky. If he ever did, he could summon it again. He wiped his cracked lips on his dusty sleeve and spat.

  “Barton getting thirsty. Make water, Wizard. Make water now.” Opening a mouth that was big enough to swallow Fogle whole, the giant stuck his enormous tongue out, pointing at it. “Dry. Need water. Make water, Wizard.”

  He could make water, but he didn’t want to. Instead, he wanted to suffer. He deserved that much. I failed, Cass. I deserve to die. Right here. I’ll just wither away into the rock and stone. He pulled his knees to his chest and dipped his head between them.

 
“Just go on without me, Barton.”

  “What?”

  Shaking his head, he said it again, louder. “Just go on without me!” He could hear Barton scratching his head.

  Barton took a seat beside him. “Ah. Wizard still sad that Blackie take his woman?”

  He felt a big hand patting his back. It knocked the breath from him. “Will you just go away!”

  “Sheesh, Wizard getting grumpy. Make water, Wizard, so we can be happy. Barton is thirsty.”

  He looked up at Barton. The reddened dot inside the giant’s disfigured eye stared back at him, unable to blink. The good eye shifted back and forth.

  “Barton, what makes you think I can make water?”

  “You’re a Wizard. You can do anything, right?”

  “No, if I could do anything, we wouldn’t be lost out here. I’d have killed that dragon too. And Cass would be with me.”

  “Hmmm.” Barton stretched out his arms. “But you can make water, can’t you?”

  No sense in him suffering. I guess I can make myself not drink it. And I only hope the spell works.

  “Maybe.” Fogle dusted off his hands and got back up. “But, I need to know something, Barton.”

  “What?”

  “Do you think Cass is dead or alive?”

  Barton shrugged.

  Fogle felt his face redden. He’d been asking questions on and off, but he giant was reluctant to help with anything. All Barton wanted to do was find Venir and get his toys. And for some odd reason, the giant seemed to know where he was going, which left Fogle feeling more lost than he already was. I wish Boon were here. He’d know something about that dragon. Why didn’t that old fool come with us? Why!

  “Tell me something, Barton. Give me some hope at least.” He kicked Barton in the toe.

  “Ow!” Barton grabbed his toe and hopped up and down, big eye blinking. “What did you do that for?”

  Fogle limped away, clutching his head. He wanted to pull his hair out. What am I doing? Can I not outwit a giant now? He looked up at the clouds. “Pull it together!”

  Barton got up, looked up into the sky and said, “Pull what?”

  “Tell you what, Barton: I’ll make barrels of water, more than we could use in a month, but you have to help me find Cass.”

  “Blackie took her; she’s gone.”