Chuggie leapt away. With the dagger in hand, his mind was clear, quick, even sharp. Thanks to his new found clarity, the reason for this was obvious: this dagger had power. It gave him not just simple acuity of thought and razor-edged wits. Chuggie felt
fast
. He felt
dangerous
. And he felt something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Retreating from the Gooch with the purse and the dagger, Chuggie found he could see how things connected. Invisible geometry tied everything to everything else. He saw how a tumbling stone was about to bounce. He saw the air tremble each time the Gooch slammed the Dreg into the wall. He wound the chain's slack around his left forearm, providing a bit of armor. The anchor dangled from his hand by the last couple chain links, ready to club his opposition.
Faben's demon released its grip on the Gooch. The Moon Dreg soared into the air and circled for another diving strike. In that instant, the Gooch flung an armload of bony spikes at Chuggie.
He saw how the spikes would fly through the air. He saw where they would hit. He ducked and shielded himself with the chain on his arm.
"
Get down, Faben
!" he yelled. Blood poured from his mouth.
As Faben's podium sliced off the head of a desecrated monstrosity, the spikes flew into her. They pierced her and knocked her back. She screamed as the Moon Dreg crashed once more into the Gooch. The Gooch's howl drowned out her wail of pain.
An instant later, every fissure and crack in the chamber came alive. The Gooch's desecrated army poured in. Revolting abominations lurched and crawled over the bones like deformed, decayed insects. A group of rotting goat-men raced to their master's aid. Swarms of the needle-mouthed creatures skittered from the shadows and charged.
Chuggie, with the goat-face purse around his neck, scrambled toward Faben. As though she didn't feel pain, she yanked the bone spikes out of her shoulder and stomach. Chuggie skidded to Faben's side. "Gotta get up, gotta get up! We got what we came for. We gotta roll out."
"What took so long?" Faben asked, hunched over. She slung the book over her shoulder and used her podium to get back to her feet. As she pulled an especially long bone spike from her stomach, the binder demon screeched and hopped away. It ducked into a shadow and vanished.
The Moon Dreg took immediate notice, released its hold on the Gooch, and turned toward Faben. It fell from the air as it ripped its wings off. With leaps and savage bounds, it roared and plundered through the Gooch's minions. Any of them that got in the way were stomped, skewered, or slashed to pieces. As it tore its way to Faben, the demon chomped bites as large as coffins out of itself from one arm, then the other. In its charge, it flung blood in all directions. Meat and gristle flew as it ripped off and consumed its own legs.. The Moon Dreg flopped down beside Faben in a quivering, twitching pile of gore. It continued to devour itself until the only thing left was a trail of bloody meat and bone with a snarling head on one end.
"My blade!" boomed the Gooch.
"It's mine now," Chuggie shouted. "Go back to sleep."
"You steal the Bleeding Jaws of Glughu! It is
mine
!" The Gooch wailed so loud the room shook. It stomped toward them, spraying bones and skulls with each massive step.
Chuggie and Faben rushed back the way they'd come. The firebugs took flight and blazed a trail up the tunnel.
"Went better than I expected," Chuggie said through the blood pouring from his mouth. "How bad are you hurt?"
"A scratch." Faben moved with astonishing speed up the winding tunnel. Were it not for the dagger in his hand, Chuggie doubted he could have kept up with the wounded summoner.
The Gooch's roar echoed after them, along with the ear-splitting footsteps of his charging soldiers.
They met no resistance during their ascent, though Chuggie'd been ready for it. With his left arm wrapped in his chain and the Bleeding Jaws of Glughu in his right hand, he was ready to devastate.
They reached the open air atop the pyramid. Chuggie peered over the side as he searched for more desecrated attackers.
"You're injured," Faben said, staring at the blood bubbling from Chuggie's mouth.
He swiped the back of his hand across his lips. "Nah. It's this dagger here. Makes blood run outta my mouth."
Faben gave him a curt nod and got back to business. She set up her podium and opened her book. Just like before, she conducted an invisible orchestra, muttering things Chuggie couldn't make out. She reached into her satchel and produced a pouch of salt. She emptied it into her hand and threw it into the air. A rattling sound came from somewhere. The air in front of Faben split apart, and her summoned creature slid down to the temple top.
A short, fat lizard-man wearing a little suit of burlap stomped his feet and rattled out curses at the top of his lungs. He wore little black goggles over his eyes and snarled up at Faben with his fangs exposed. On his shoulder, he carried a wooden barrel with a cartoonish flaming skull painted on it.
Chuggie studied Faben as she conjured. Back in the Gooch's altar-chamber, he'd thought she was hurt bad. It looked like that bone spike went all the way through her. Then she'd sprinted up the tunnel like a wolf after sheep. Now, as she summoned a new creature, she didn't act injured in the least. Deciding she must be fine, he regarded the angry little lizard-man. "What is that, Faben?"
"It's a
tentahk
," she said. "It goes boom."
"I'm gonna touch it." Chuggie put a finger out and moved toward it. The little lizard-man rattled and hissed the closer he got.
"No, you're not." Faben put a hand on Chuggie's wrist to stop him.
"Fine," he grumbled.
To the tentahk, she said, "Go down that tunnel. The first thing you meet…" She pointed to the barrel. "Understand?"
It rattled, snarled, and ran down the tunnel.
"We have to go." Faben grabbed Chuggie's arm and darted to the stairway on the side of the temple. Chuggie, half running and half sliding, followed.
By the time they reached the bottom, they'd built up too much speed to stop. Faben used her podium to vault over the slime pool. She swung the podium with a flourish as she turned. Having no staff of his own, Chuggie barreled into the muck. A sheet of black ooze soared over Faben's head, hovered there, then dropped.
"We made it," Chuggie said. "Can't believe how covered in sludge I got!"
Faben wiped the slime out of her eyes and scowled at Chuggie. "We should —."
An explosion from within the desecrated temple shook the ground. One section after another of the structure caved in. A rising moan sounded from everywhere, as if the blast wounded the Desecration itself.
Without another word, Chuggie and Faben ran into the fog.
They stopped a ways from the temple, but thanks to the mist, they couldn't tell how far. Chuggie wiped the blood from his chin and spat into the dust as Faben leaned up against a post.
"So why does that dagger make you bleed out the mouth?"
"Dunno," he replied. "Just does."
"So, put it down."
"It makes me focused. And I see the hidden geometry," said Chuggie.
"Chuggifer, I don't know
what
you're talking about." Faben bent over with her hands on her knees and spat some blood of her own.
"The dagger makes me fast. It's the only way I could keep up with you." Chuggie wiped his mouth again.
"Well, you're in luck," she coughed. "I think you'll be able to keep up without it now."
Chuggie watched her reach a trembling hand inside her shirt. She grimaced as she touched her stomach wound. When she pulled the hand out again, it dripped with blood.
"Did I get a little blood on you there?"
"Not to worry, Chuggles. It's just a scratch." She smiled up at him.
A rumble pulsed through the ground. Trees shuddered and boulders vibrated. Dust filled the air. The sound came from every direction. Half-man, half-goat, creatures thundered into view. Like an infestation of rats purged from a sewer, the tiny needle-mouth creatures surged in behind them.
Faben cried out and pointed, but Chuggie already knew.
"Shit, we're surrounded." Faben plunged her podium into the dirt and opened her book.
With blood streaming from his mouth, Chuggie charged into the midst of the monsters. Their decayed, lurching forms scuttled to see which could clutch him first. The bone dagger infused him with deadly speed and pinpoint precision. His right hand slashed with the blade while his left, clutching his anchor, shielded him. In his usual state of mind, he didn't have anything like this kind of control over his limbs. He grinned a bloody grin as he tested the limits of his newfound ability.
Desecrated goat-men flew through the air as Chuggie bashed them with the anchor. He sliced others to pieces as they charged. As soon as he finished off one, another took its place. More and more swarmed from all directions.
Faben clapped her book shut and snatched up her podium. She spun it in a figure eight up around and over her head. The weapon sliced through the snarling, snapping creatures and cut them into neat little portions.
"Were you just summoning?" Chuggie yelled as he swung his anchor.
"That's right." Faben lopped off two heads with a single stroke.
"Did it get lost on the way here?" Chuggie shredded a quintet of the little needle-mouths as they flew through the air at him.
A scream, as if from an enormous bird, blared from above. The sound swelled and expanded until it obliterated the sound of the goat-men.
Faben laughed as she hunkered low to the ground. Chuggie, puzzled by her actions, followed her example.
Severed heads with flames spraying out the back plummeted toward the ground. They screamed with demented laughter as they fell. With a sickening crunch, they struck the ground. The heads exploded with a flash of lightning-white light, ripping nearby goat-men with bony shrapnel. The head-bombs blasted a path through the mob. Faben and Chuggie rushed through.
Within moments, the desecrated throng regrouped and resumed its pursuit. Chuggie's gore-caked anchor plowed through one after another of the dead-eyed devils. He and his partner slaughtered scores of the monstrosities, but the numbers never seemed to deplete. Desecrated minions raced to be butchered in endless, rancid, waves.
"How are we getting out of this?" Faben called between swings. Sweat drenched her face and she wasn't swinging with the same enthusiasm.
Chuggie could see the way. With his perception enhanced by the dagger, it couldn't have been clearer if the Gooch had painted their escape route in blood.
"This way," Chuggie yelled as he led on, slashing and swinging.
"We need a diversion," Faben shouted. She waved her hands in the summoning gestures, and poured vials of powder on the ground. She screamed herself hoarse until a pair of bone hounds, dog-shaped skeletons the size of horses, materialized in the center of the mob. They rampaged through the decayed masses, chomping and stomping.
With their desecrated pursuers occupied, Chuggie and Faben ran until they put some space between themselves and the scuffle.
"It's not enough. We need more." Faben skidded to a halt and spun around. Without book or podium, she raised her hands in the air. With more passion than a maestro she waved her hands. The ancient words poured from her lips with the fierce vitality of a summoner at war.
With the Bleeding Jaws of Glughu clutched in his fist, Chuggie perceived the invisible energy of Faben's words. He saw them converge overhead. He understood the shape they were becoming. Chuggie felt the very air cringe as the Gooch's minions caught up to them.
The thing materialized and hovered in midair. The head and wings of a raven stretched out from the body of a serpent. Gravity grabbed the black stone that made up the body of the raven-snake, and it crashed to the ground. Dozens of the Gooch's soldiers were crushed into a smear on the creature's stone underbelly.
Chuggie turned back just in time to catch the collapsing summoner.
"Took… took a lot out of me." Faben grimaced.
"Let's get you out of here," said Chuggie, supporting his friend as they got moving again. "Why didn't you use that thing on the Gooch?"
"Because it turns into a statue," Faben wheezed. "Can't be sure when, either. When it gets sick of fighting, I guess." Faben coughed blood on herself. "Hard to control, too. I've seen what happens when those things turn on a summoner."
"Let me guess, it cooks the summoner a nice meal? Takes her to the track and gives her some bettin' money?"
Faben coughed a weak laugh. "Screaming. Lots of screaming."
"Well, that does sound like a hoot."
Chuggie glanced back and saw nothing but fog. He listened, but couldn't hear anything. "They'll be after us again soon."
They slowed down and Chuggie opened the front of Faben's jacket, trying to see the extent of her wounds. His mouth had leaked so much blood it covered most of his own front side. He couldn't tell if Faben had bled all over herself, or if the blood on her shirt was from him. The invisible geometry he perceived on her stomach told him her injury was quite serious.
They reached the edge of the desecration. The thorny bushes that had closed up when they entered were too thick to push through. Chuggie slashed an opening with the dagger. Spitting blood every few seconds, he tore through the brush with fury. Faben dragged herself along behind Chuggie, holding onto his jacket as though it was a life preserver. As they passed through, the branches closed up behind them.
Chuggie hacked until finally they stumbled out of the thick, thorny brambles. Faben breathed hard and clutched her stomach. She leaned against a tree, slid down, and landed with a thump.
Chuggie tucked the Bleeding Jaws of Glughu into his belt and hunkered down in front of her. "Feeling better yet?" His tried his best to make his voice upbeat and cheerful. He wiped at the blood on his chin.
"Let's see this thing," Faben said weakly, reaching out for the goat-face purse.