Torment and Terror (14 page)

CHAPTER 37

Venir was running back to camp at a full sprint when Billip caught him by the wrist and slowed him down. “What are you doing?” Venir growled.

The flames in the sky were enough to slow any man down. The screams would make the most durable cry.

But not Venir. Doom was on his family. He had to stop it. Stop it now.

“Caution, Venir. That’s a slaughter up there, and ours still live.”

It was true. Almost every fighting man was whittled down to nothing. They were dead or almost there. Tiny missiles shot from the mage’s fingertips, putting an end to the furious bellows of the dying.

Nostrils flaring, Venir hid behind a patch of rocks with Billip. He could see Melegal, hands up and standing tall in front of a smallish person. “Do my eyes deceive me, or is that woman an underling?”

Billip shook his head and popped his knuckles. “I’ve never known of one ever to be seen. Unlike the men, she’s quite captivating. From this distance at least.”

Skin crawling from the grisly battle coming to a quick end, Venir stuck his sword in the ground. “You’ll very likely need that.” He undid his pack, removed the sack, and reached within.

The oaken shaft of Brool was in his hand.

Warm.

Pulsating.

“If you go charging in there,” Billip said to him, “then they are dead. All of them. You saw what the underlings did to the village back there.”

Staying his hand, Venir’s brows lifted when he said, “Perhaps they won’t see me.”

“There is still much light.”

They were still a hundred yards away, but well concealed. Venir’s sharp vision could still make out his friends. Melegal stood between the underling woman and his girls with Nikkel right behind him.

The underling in the air hovered nearby. Quiet like a small dark cloud in the sky.

In all who remained alive, there was only trembling. Voices from the slaughtered villages crying out for mercy.

“Perhaps Melegal’s clever tongue will see them through it,” Venir said through clenched teeth. “As for me and this, I’ll have to take my chances.”

“Try to control yourself, will you?”

Chin set in stone, Venir withdrew the shield from the sack, round and ornate. He felt invincible with it.

With hands stiff as claws, he pulled out Helm. The eyelets were pitch black with unfathomable depths. He heard Billip’s shuddered sigh, showed a thin smile, and put it on. Venir’s entire body filled with new life. His already acute awareness was amplified. So was his lust to kill. He let out a low animal-like growl.

“Rrrlll.”

“Mother of Bish, control yourself!” Billip said, sliding back from Venir with wide eyes. The sky darkened, and the first moon crept out. “Aw slat. Just go and kill that flying bastard.”

“Stay here,” Venir said. Fighting Helm’s chronic urging, Venir crept closer to the army. He could sense the great power of the underling in the sky. It was unlike any underling he’d felt since his last tangle with the golden and silver-eyed ones. Knuckles white on the axe handle, he picked his way forward. He made it another fifty yards. His heart thundered like tiny explosions. He hunkered down into the dirt.

I can’t take this anymore.

Peeking over the concealment of his position, he could see Kam. She was still on horseback, holding Erin tight. Joline was turned away and trembling. No one was talking.

The wispy underling woman had the defenseless people at bay. Venir could see the heat from her. Feel her thoughts. She and the one floating above were going to kill them. All of them. One by one.

I can’t let that happen.

Venir took off in a speedy trot and neither of the underlings turned.

But the one above’s thoughts were clear. “Kill them.”

Venir charged.

***

Kam felt a familiar presence in the sky above. She gazed up and saw a face she could swear she knew. Then it came to her in a rush of awful memories. “Sidebor,” she said in Underling.

The underling woman froze mid-strike. Her head tilted to one side. Her lavender eyes became fixed on Kam.

Ah, yes. You remember me. I remember you. Very well, Kam.
Sidebor’s thoughts were inside her head.
Where is our dear friend Scorch?

“Dead,” she said. Her head beaded in sweat, and her heart raced. Sidebor was probing her thoughts. Her past. Her present. His mind was rude and intrusive, much like the inquisition she’d suffered in the City of Three. “Like you will soon be too.”

My, you actually believe that he is dead. So, must it be true? If that is so, then I have no need of you.

“Kill them, Elypsa. I will gladly help you.”

Kam’s hand charged up with mystic amber fire. “Go ahead and try.”

***

A green snake of energy burst out of the ground in front of Elypsa’s feet.

She danced away, laughing. Her black blades struck its head off, time after time, but it kept coming.

Melegal slapped Quickster on the haunches, but the quick pony didn’t budge. “Get out of here, Mule!” He grabbed Jasper, pointed at Kam and Joline, and said, “Get on that horse and ride out of here. All of you!”

“I’m staying,” Jasper fired back.

“You’ll be doomed,” he said.

“We’re doomed already.” She brought up a mystic shield. “Get behind me. All of you.” The blue shield formed a dome over all of them, including the horse.

Only Quickster remained outside it. Head down. Nibbling at the grasses.

Kam’s mystic green snake fizzled out.

Elypsa turned to face them.

Above, Sidebor’s hands caught fire again and a ball of orange fire shot straight for them.

Boom!

The ground shook Melegal from his feet. The bone-jarring force shook his limbs, and the heat singed all the exposed hair from his skin, clear up to his eyebrows. It was clear that Jasper’s shield had saved them. But how many of them? Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Nikkel. The big black young man’s smoking hide staggered across the desert and picked up a sword.

“No!” Melegal yelled.

Nikkel turned in time to catch Elypsa’s blades chopping into him like a piece of wood.

“Nooooo!”

CHAPTER 38

The lightning from the underling’s fingers lit up the sky and wiped everyone out. Bodies of men and women were flung in all directions. The horse that held the women galloped off, slowed down, and fell over.

Charging toward the danger, Venir let out a bloodcurdling battle howl. “Grrrraaawwww!”

The sky-riding underling turned toward Venir. Missiles of dark colorful light burst from his fingertips and shot straight at him.

The maddened warrior brought his shield up, and the mystic bolts ricocheted in all directions. He surged forward in long strides. The armored panther was on the move. The distance between him and the underling swordswoman quickly closed.

Melegal was there.

Nikkel was getting hacked to pieces.

Nooooooo!

Helm let out a warning.

Venir slammed into an invisible wall with a crash. He bounced backward and fell down.

“Bone!”

He was surrounded by a translucent force, a veil of bright yellow that encircled him all around like a dome. He chopped at it with his axe. It skipped off the mystic surface. Blood boiling, all Venir could do was watch and scream. Pounding on the surface, he realized it was closing in. He braced his body against it with his arms and legs. Like a vise, the magic trap was created to crush him to death.

***

Melegal loosed darts from his launchers.

Twing! Twing! Twing! Twing!

The underling swordswoman sprung away like a cat.

But his darts had saved Nikkel from another lethal blow. The big young man, bleeding heavily, staggered backward, tripped over a dead refugee, and crumpled in the sand.

Melegal wanted to rush over to him, but self-preservation kicked in.

The underling woman was closing in.

Aw slat! Why me!

Armed with only his dart launchers and a dagger strapped behind his back, he shuffled away from the master swordswoman.

Curious. I wonder what it would be like to bed an underling woman?

She sliced her swords back and forth. The black blades had a gentle curve to them. The craftsmanship was beyond exquisite. Her feet and shoulders adjusted to every move Melegal made with cat-like grace. She said something in Underling. A seductive chitter. Every syllable rolled off her perfect lips like cool drinking water. Her white-lashed eyes on Melegal were hypnotic. Erotic. Captivating.

Like all beautiful women, it’s no surprise she wants to kill me.

He backed away, leading her away from the others. He wanted to see if his friends lived. He heard Venir but had lost sight of where he was.

Where is that lout?

No, now it was just him and the woman.

And she was clearly the best swordsman he’d ever seen.

So she can fight. Can she think?

He pointed toward a spear lying on the ground.

Buy time, Melegal. Buy time.

She eased her stance and gave him a nod.

He reached down and picked it up. The spear tip was pointed behind him. He quickly turned around toward her and shrugged.

She smirked, brandished her swords, and set her feet again. She let out a chit and eased her way toward him.

You’ve got one crack at this, Melegal. Make it work.

Summoning the energy from his cap, he uttered a single command.
Freeze.

Elypsa froze in her tracks.

Such a shame you’re an underling.

Melegal rushed in and stabbed.

Faster than a hummingbird’s wings, she spun away, sliced the spear in half, and kicked Melegal hard in the gut.

Doubled over in pain, the next thing he saw and felt were two black blades at his throat.

***

Muscles bulging and joints popping, Venir’s great frame fought against the bone-crushing barrier. His veins popped up like purple snakes on every limb. He fought against the tremendous force, feeling the delight of the underling that hovered above.

It was gloating. All powerful and evil, the underling was quite sure of itself. Thought it was a cat playing with a mouse.

Venir’s body began to give.

There was a chitter of laughter.

Venir hated that laughter. He hated their chitters. He didn’t want to hear any more. His iron will combined with his connection with the armament fueled his body. Mighty arms shaking, he made the force field start to bend to his will. He pushed back.

The underling above let out an angry shriek.

Venir comprehended its thoughts.

Impossible!
Its frustration added fuel to its fire. The underling turned it on, making the mystic force around Venir stronger.

Venir held fast, neck straining in tireless agony.

The sky lit up in a bright flash of dawn.

Ssssszzzzram!

The underling mage was flung backward with its arms wide, spinning around and around in the sky.

The mystic force fell away, and Venir stood alone on the sand, panting for breath.

Another figure stood in midair with fire in his eyes. It was Boon.

***

Boon saw what was coming before anyone else did. He sensed it.

Great, great power, the likes of which he’d never felt before. An ancient underling with centuries of study in the control and craft of magic. Why it was practically alone in the desert he did not understand, but its defeat could turn the tide of the battle.

Boon hid. He waited. This was the fight he’d been waiting for all his life.

Venir had the all-powerful fiend distracted.

Boon struck.

Ssssszzzzram!

The lightning hit the mage square and curled up the edges of his robes.

Boon pressed the attack. Bright lightning flung from his fingers.

Ssssszzzzram! Ssssszzzzram! Ssssszzzzram!

The floating underling spun sideways down to the ground and crashed.

Boon took to the ground and summoned a suit of mystic blue armor.

Robes smoking, it came to its feet, wiped the black blood from its mouth, and laughed. Its lone ruby-red eye bore into Boon’s. “You have a mark about you, human. Heh heh. But it will not be enough to save you from the likes of me.”

“We’ll see, Fiend,” said Boon. A long mystic spear grew in his hands. “We’ll see.”

The underling scoffed. “Very unorthodox for your kind.” Its fingertips grew into long glowing claws. “But I’ll play your game.”

Boon charged.

The underling mage braced himself for impact.

Ssszzcrash!

Claws and spear connected. Back and forth they went.

Boon stabbed.

It swatted his efforts away. The underling was quick and tireless. His lone eye locked on Boon’s, holding his gaze.

Boon’s head ached. He fought back, exerting his own will on the underling’s.

Its mind was a fortress. An unbreakable wall.

“Rrah!” Boon cried out. The spear ripped through the underling’s defenses.

It howled in pain.

“Bleed, you black fiend! Bleed!”

Claws lashed out and shattered Boon’s armor. Flecks of the mystic metal faded away. The underling’s talons tore through robes and flesh. “Die, human, die!”

Boon’s spear transformed into a shield.

The underling’s claws whittled away at it one hunk at a time.

Boon’s mind was searing. The underling was wearing him down. Eating his will away. He probed for weakness. An opening. He’d fought the underlings for decades and knew everything a man could know about them. Their confidence. Their pride. Guarding his thoughts, he thought, “Let that be their undoing.” He gave in a little.

The underling’s claws burned into his flesh. “Your end is near, human.” Claws jabbed into Boon’s leg.

He let out a painful howl. Let his shield collapse. His head slumped into the sand. He panted for breath.

On top of him, the underling’s claws became a longsword that it held over Boon’s chest while it let out a triumphant chitter. “You’re strong for a human. Too bad you’re human.” The mystic sword point started down.

Hands becoming mystic spikes, Boon bolted upright and locked his jagged fingers around the underling’s throat and squeezed.

It choked. “Urk!” Its one eye popped wide open. An angry flame burned within. Its fingertips glowed with fire and latched onto Boon’s neck.

“Gah!” Boon cried out. He held on and stared deep into the one burning red gemstone eye. He locked his mind with the fiend’s. “It’s time to die, underling!”

Their bodies floated off the ground and spiraled through the sky. Clawed fingers sunk deeper and deeper like daggers. Iron-forged wills collided.

Boon saw memories.

Landscapes.

Hundreds of bloody battles over the course of centuries.

There were the inner workings of the Underland. Cold, dim, macabre, beautiful. Thousands of tormented men and women. Cruel devices. Torture chambers. This underling had overseen it all. Enjoyed it all. Ordered it all. A long treacherous path of death.

With a heave, still spinning through the air, Boon’s fingers dug deeper into the underling’s neck.

Sidebor screamed.

In a tangle of magic and limbs, the pair skipped over the ground. Neither’s grip loosened from the other’s neck. Back and forth they went. One mind tormented the other with painful, tortuous images. Every bit of energy was being exhausted.

Fire blasted from Sidebor’s eyes and smote Boon in the face.

“Argh!” Flesh burning, Boon held on. It was a battle of mind over matter. His body was a vessel. A storehouse of magic. He summoned everything he had left. Fused all of his inner strength into his limbs and tried to tear Sidebor’s head clean off.

“You cannot beat me. No one can!”

“Your son Sinway did!” Boon said.

The pair of mage fighters rocked and reeled. They smashed through dead bodies and bounded off rocks.

Battle-bruised, burned, and bloody, the strength in Boon’s eighty-plus-year-old limbs began to fade.

Sidebor slammed him hard into the ground.

Boon’s grip slipped, and his mystic spikes crackled out.

The underling leered in his face, chittering victoriously.

Boon spat in his face.

A mystic dagger formed in the underling’s free hand and came down straight into Boon’s exposed chest.

Zzzit!