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Authors: Case C. Capehart

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BOOK: Beyond the Hell Cliffs
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His eyes opened to the dull grey of the overcast sky.  He did not know what time it was or how long he had been asleep.  If it was still light out, then it was either a short time or another day as he could remember that it should have been close to dark
when he arrived at the ledge.

He suddenly remembered the woman who was on the ledge with him and jerked in response.  His arms came up.

Raegith moved and realized that he was no longer tied to the sled.  He sat up and looked himself over for bite marks or missing pieces.  When he was satisfied that he was still whole and alive, he got to his feet.  There was a lingering ache in his head, just enough to inconvenience him, but his fever was gone and his body felt renewed.  He stretched and rubbed his cramped muscles.

A gust of wind was accompanied by a swooshing noise behind him.  Raegith turned to see the scaled woman wing down onto the ledge with a soft thump.  The dust below her swirled up and scattered as she approached him slowly, her great leathery wings folding in and curling behind her back.

“He wakes,” she said, her hissing voice chilling his blood.

Raegith retreated away from her, which made her hesitate.  He could see her better now that his mind was not clouded by sickness.  She was taller than him by two heads
.  Her scaled skin was dull green except for a strip of grey, banded skin, like the bottom of a snake that started at the bottom of her chin and widened to the width of her chest as it ran down the front of her body and disappeared under a fur pelt that hung from a string around her waist.  The loin cloth was the only article of clothing she wore, save a necklace of talons and fangs that hung down between a pair of small, perky breasts that lacked nipples.  Her eyes were green and black slits and her head was smooth and bald.  Her nose was merely two nostrils on her smooth face and her mouth was a lipless line, but her face was as captivating as it was frightening and there was a strange appeal about her.

“Young thing is afraid?” she asked.  “Even after I cure his fever and mend his body?  Pointless gestures if I only intended to kill you, young thing.”

“I heard you say you needed me alive,” Raegith said, his memory clearing up.  “You said there could be no ‘taste’ if I was dead, whatever that means.”

“There can be no taste if young thing is dead, that is obvious.  I have healed your wounds. 
Young thing feels better… stronger, yes?  That is not all, though.  I reached into your dreams, young thing.  I saw your desires.  I know what you seek in these lands.”

“How do you know what I want here?” Raegith asked.  He was beginning to be intrigued by this strange woman.

“Prince of royalty… legacy,” she replied.  “Revenge is what you seek.  This is good.  Enemy of your enemy, you seek.  This is more challenging.  I gave you the language of the Greimere as I played in your dreams.  You will find this very important in gaining your revenge, young thing.”

“You planted another language in my head?” Raegith asked.  He
wondered what she meant by knowing what he sought in those lands.  He did not even know what he sought.

“A gift, young thing.
  But this gift is not free.  You will allow me to taste of you now.  I must have the taste of your legacy.  It would mean so much, after such a long time.”

“What, uh…” Raegith stammered.  “How much of a taste are we talking about? 
A finger?  Some blood?  Not a limb or an eye or anything, right?”

“Young thing likes to joke?” the woman asked.  She was drawing very close to him now; close enough to reach out and grab if she chose to.  “Young thing still thinks me to eat him? 
To devour his flesh?  It is not a meal I am in need of, young thing.”

The woman reached behind her and pulled at the string around her waist.  The loin cloth fell away and Raegith realized what her intentions were.  He had only made love to one other woman and her death
was still fresh in his mind, but the woman before him radiated power.  She had already treated his illness and wounds and given him the ability to understand and speak the language of the Greimere.  He did not believe that she would just let him refuse her and leave with his life.  She could sense the royalty in his blood and the prospect of “tasting” him was enough to convince her to spare him.

She closed in on him and reached down to run her fingers through his hair, the line that was her mouth curling into a smile.  Suddenly
she shuddered and sucked in a deep breath.  Her body began to morph and shrink.  Her face grew a nose and lips and her razor-sharp teeth flattened to resemble his.  Her scaled skin smoothed and her clawed fingers and feet lost their ferociousness to become more like his.  She was still completely hairless and bald, but she was beautiful and resembled a Saban/Twileen half-blood, like him.

Her lips parted as she stared eagerly into his eyes.

“This appearance suits you more, yes?  Remove your clothes, young thing.  I am eager for my taste.”

The woman tasted Raegith, right on the ledge, under the shrine that the creatures had brought him to.  It was much different from his time with Onyx
.  She was aggressive and loud, moaning and clawing at his chest.  It was not the intimate, caring sex that he had shared with his healer, but a rough, primal experience.  When she climaxed atop him, her eyes rolled back into her head and her wings snapped open.  Lust overtook him and even after she had her taste he kept at her.  He rolled her to her back and took her and by the time they fell away from each other, exhausted and spent, she had not just tasted him, but had been satisfied.

“I am Silthaheedra, young thing,” the woman said, her body morphing back to the snake-like form that she had first appeared to
him in.  “When you go back down to the bottom of this spike of land, the Gimlets will be waiting to take you again.”

Silthaheedra got to her feet and replaced her loin cloth.  She watched Raegith as he dressed himself and when he was done, she approached him and looked down at him with interest.

“You have given me a fine taste, young thing,” She said with a wicked smile.  “Find your revenge and do not return to this place.  You have found an angel here this once.  Next time you will find a demon.  Such is the way of things with my kind.”

“And what are you, exactly?” Raegith asked.

She gave him another smile and stroked his cheek once before nodding in the direction of the Gimlets and his friends. 

“Go.”

Then she spread her wings, turned and was into the sky, winging off into the clouds without even a glance over her shoulder.  Raegith stared after her until she was a tiny dot against the mottled overcast and then turned to walk down the path to the bottom of the ledge.  Just as she had said, the Gimlets were all waiting at the bottom of the hill.

“About damn time with this one,” the leader said in a voice that Raegith could understand.  “
Fibbitch damn shocked that he’s still alive; just knew the Dragon Queen swallow him whole.”

“It was worth a chance, Fibbitch,” another one said.  “He
dying.  Dead thing no use to us.  Snake princess only one who could fix him.”

“Well I’m damn glad you did bring me here,” Raegith said.

“He talks now?” one of the others asked.


The Dragon Queen has touched his mind!”

“Raegith, how the hell are you doing that?” Zakk asked.  “You’re freaking me out.  Are you okay?”

“Something… very powerful appeared to me,” Raegith replied.  “I don’t know if she was a goddess or some unknown creature, but she spoke to me… cured my fever.  She said she looked into my dreams and saw what I was looking for here, in the south.”

“And what are you looking for
, prince?” Ebriz asked.

“Revenge… I guess,” Raegith said and then shrugged.

Chapter 13

 

The scenery never changed much, but the terrain transitioned from flat to rocky to ridiculous.  They walked on top of moss fields that looked as if they bled when stepped upon and climbed up steep hills that seemed to be nothing but piled ash and rubble.  The group pulled them up short and they dropped behind a giant stone embedded in the ground to silently watch a group of what looked like four-legged battering rams with horns shamble by.  Fibbitch said that the creatures were called Binoqs and were very hard to kill because armor plating grew along their backs and sides and their heads were like anvils.  They could be killed only from underneath, which was difficult since their guts were only about a foot off the ground, or with an extremely lucky arrow in one of their eyes.  The group marched through thickets of razor-lined mushrooms the size of dogs that grew on top of corpses.  According to Fibbitch, the only vegetation that grew in the south were things that sprouted from carrion and were completely inedible to most beings.  At one point they even skirted a ledge that dropped off into a massive volcano.

“We should sprinkle water down there,” one of the creatures stated.  “Then if Giddix fall, he not fall in lava!”

“Ugh, Giddix,” Fibbitch said, clapping a hand over his wide face with annoyance.  “Look how high we are, dummy.  Giddix could fall on a Rathgars tit and it would kill him
from this height!  Fibbitch think Giddix’s head is just big rock with a stupid grin painted on it.  All the time Fibbitch thinking this.”

As hard as it was not to laugh at some of the things Fibbitch said, it was even harder for Raegith to believe
anyone could live in such a place.  Not long after they left the volcano behind, Raegith noticed it was getting dark.  The creatures seemed to be a bit on edge and were whispering among each other in voices too low to make out what they were saying.  He thought he overheard the word “grabber,” but he couldn’t be sure of what that was or if he even heard the word correct.  Fibbitch pulled a foot-long stick out of his pack and yanked a cover off of the top, making the end explode in flames.  It was the most amazing torch Raegith had ever seen yet the other Gimlets seemed unimpressed, as if such a device was normal to them.  As the sky faded from red to inky black, Fibbitch began looking at the ground much closer and they slowed drastically.

“You’re lost, aren’t you?”
Raegith asked.

“Not lost, Pasty
-face,” Fibbitch replied.  “Trying to reach a safe place before dark things come out to play.  Maybe if pasty-face shuts up…”

Fibbitch was cut off by a screeching cry from behind them.  They turned just in time to see one of the wide-eyed creatures get a spike through his shoulder that lifted him out of the light and into the darkness, screaming.
  It happened so fast that the group just stood there and stared at the empty space the creature recently occupied.  Then another screech rang out and all hell broke loose.  The little Gimlets all huddled up around Fibbitch, practically climbing over each other to get closer to him. 

“Stupid Gimlets, stop panicking!” Fibbitch cried, waving off his comrades.  “Get
out matches and pull the hoods!  We need light, dummies!”

Zakk gripped
her sword with both hands and lifted it in front of her.  Ebriz scanned the area and Raegith hoped that his Twileen eyes might be able to pick something up.  When Ebriz looked back at him, there was terror.

“You saw something?” Raegith asked.

“A glimpse, prince.  I won’t describe it for you; it was horrible enough for me to witness.”

“Fibbitch, what the hell is out there?” Raegith asked.

“Walking nightmare, Pasty-face,” Fibbitch said, helping the others get their torches out.  “We call it Grabber.  It hate light!  We need more light!”


Can we fight it?  Do you not have weapons that can kill it?” Raegith asked.  “I am not getting eaten by something I cannot see without exacting a toll from it!”

“They not eat you,
pasty-face,” Fibbitch yelled.  “They put eggs in you and make you lie real still, then babies hatch from eggs and eat their way out.  Oh, I guess maybe they do eat you… kind of.”


What is that, Raegith?” Zakk asked.

“Something bad,” Raegith replied.  Then he turned to Fibbitch.  “How do we kill it?”

“Cannot kill it, pasty-face,” Fibbitch replied.  “It pulls you into the dark, where you cannot see it.  Stay in the light and stay safe.  Way too many killing things out at night here.  Should have been inside safe house.”

“How many are there and where would they be?” Raegith said, staring out into the dark.

“Just one, Pasty-face, but that plenty enough to kill you, stupid,” Fibbitch replied.  “They hunt alone, staying right at the end of the light.  It will stay right outside our eyes until morning.”

“Are they smart?” Raegith asked.

“Are they smart?” Fibbitch repeated, looking at him like he was an idiot.  “No, they dumb like Giddix.  Don’t have to be smart to kill you.  Just stay put, Pasty-face.”

A scream cut through the darkness.  The Gimlet that had been taken was being implanted.  It did not sound pleasant and after a while the screams died out.

“It is satisfied for now,” Fibbitch said.  “It probably not hunt us again tonight.  Tomorrow we must reach safety, though.  It has our scent now.”

The Gimlets kept their torches going the rest of the night, but no one slept.  The cries started back up several times, only to be muffled and drowned out.  Once Fibbitch yelled into the darkness for him to be quiet and stop fighting.  His voice only seemed to encourage the poor victim to cry more.  Just before dawn, the Gimlet, much weaker now, tried to call out once more but by the distance of the sound, he was being dragged off somewhere else.  They did not hear from him again.

The next day found them travelling again at dawn.  The light came much slower than the darkness did, as if it took longer for it to come through the clouds.  The land evened back out into dismal plains of dirt and aged skeletons of strange beasts.  Amazingly, there were springs of water in the deserted plains.

Fibbitch took the party down through a canyon that looked like a giant axe cut into the land.  For two hours they crawled and skidded down a tiny path
that led them straight to the bottom and once they reached level ground, Fibbitch took them into a cave that dug into the canyon wall.  Torches were lit and the Gimlets followed their leader into the darkness, with Raegith, Ebriz and Zakk in the middle of them.

It only took a few minutes before they reached the clear pool of water.  Fibbitch reassured Raegith that the water was drinkable, even if it smelled like a fresh fart.  Raegith bent down and took a long pull of the liquid.
  It tasted flat and dirty, but it was wet and he was quite thirsty, as his group had burned through most of their canteens the first day and were completely dry.

The group refreshed their water pouches and Fibbitch led them out of the cave and towards their destination.  He went on about the safe house that he had out there, somewhere, and how important it was to reach it before nightfall.  They saw no trace of the
Grabber, yet Fibbitch was convinced that it would return for another victim that night.

“Always it hungers,” Fibbitch said as they walked on through the wasteland.  “It eats its young, when they hatch. 
Very crazy creature.  It will want more babies… more Gimlets to house babies.  We must not be out here when the light fades.”

As the day wore on, it seemed as if they were not going to make it to the safe house.  Fibbitch grew more and more disturbed, yelling at his companions if they fell even a few steps behind.
  The other Gimlets were beginning to worry as well, looking all about and questioning the judgment of Fibbitch.  Even Raegith grew concerned.

“How does the
Grabber take its prey?” Raegith asked, remembering how quickly the Gimlet from the night before was snatched away.


Did you not see?  Grabber stick you with stinger… pull you into the night with it.  Stinger has barb on it, like arrow… keep you from getting away.”

“But the stinger doesn’t kill you, right?” Raegith asked, a plan forming in his mind.  “
If it did, then the Grabber would not have a live host.”


Grabber stick you in the shoulder or leg,” Fibbitch replied.  “Maybe even eat your feet off; who knows?  If we don’t get to shelter, maybe pasty-face find out how Grabber hunts.  Gimlets are too tired to stay awake another night.”

They did not reach the safe house that day, however, just as Fibbitch feared.  When the sky began to darken, Fibbit
ch cried out in exasperation.

“Safe house still too far to reach before night!” the maddened Gimlet screamed.  “You idiots walk too
slow!  Now one of us dies out here tonight!”

“That thing is coming back, isn’t it?” Ebriz asked.  “Fates, I hate this place.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this!  We were supposed to have warriors with us, not these tiny creatures.”

“Let the thing come,” Zakk said, looking around.  “It can do no worse to me than has already been done.”

Raegith
worried about his friends.  Ebriz, despite his surprising kill move back in the camp a few days ago, was still just a bard and had never ventured into the south before.  Zakk, however, was completely nihilistic.  It seemed as if she were welcoming death.  But then, she was not afraid of what was out there; not like Ebriz was.  Maybe Raegith needed to be a bit more like her if he were to survive, but he would not so readily welcome death.  He turned back to Fibbitch.

“So you said this thing hates light.  How badly?  Does
light just hurt it, or does it kill it?”

“Light get rid of it, Pasty-face,” Fibbitch replied.  “Quiet now, while we decide who to send to the
Grabber.  It only need one of us.”

“A sacrifice?
  You can’t be serious.” Raegith replied.

“You want to live or die, Pasty-face?” Fibbitch yelled.  “My
job to get Pasties to Empress or Fibbitch lose his head.  Fibbitch do what needs to be done, Pasty-face.  Gimlets not frail-mind like those in north!”

“Well stop deliberating on who gets sacrificed.  We’re not giving in to this beast tonight,” Raegith said, walking into the midst of the Gimlet group.  “How many of those torches do you have?  I might have a plan.”

Raegith told them his plan and despite Fibbitch’s insistence that they would die, he gave them all a torch and explained himself to Ebriz and Zakk.  Ebriz’s hands shook as he took the torch from Raegith.

“Don’t mind my jitters, Prince.  I’ll do what needs to be done,” Ebriz said.  “It helps me that you are so confident all of the sudden.  It must be the
Caelum blood, yes?  I feel foolish all of the sudden; so full of fear while you and Zakk are so collected.  This is not bard work, I guess.”

Raegith looked at Zakk.  She was stone-faced and ready, but was she truly fearless right now?  He certainly was not.  At that point Raegith was moving just to keep his body from locking up with fear.  He set his plan and followed it mindlessly, just as he followed Ebriz the first night past the Hell Cliffs.  He did not allow himself time to think of the fear or else he would simply break down. 
Mere days ago he had killed his first man; an enemy he was aware of, at least.  Now he was thrust into mortal combat with some grotesque monster he had not even caught a glimpse of. 

 
With their torches lit, Raegith, Zakk and Fibbitch each led a couple of the little Gimlets out in an arc while Ebriz and Giddix stood their ground.  As they spread out, each torchbearer spaced out from the others until there was a small, even circle of torches.  Raegith could hear the Grabber moving around inside the circle, curious as to what its prey was doing.  Raegith smiled at the success of his plan so far, but worried at how quickly the beast might catch on.  He signaled the rest of the group and the circle slowly began to collapse on itself.

Within seconds the G
rabber started panicking as outstretched torches came at it from all directions.  Raegith realized that he never asked Fibbitch if this thing could fly and he hoped the sarcastic little turd would have told him before they scattered themselves. 

The torchbearers closed in on the beast and it moved more frantically, pushing the bounds of the light and revealing itself in flashes.  It looked like some kind of insect, with thorny legs and skin that sizzled every time a piece of it came into the light.  In under a minute the circle had nearly closed in on it and as the little patch of night shrunk around the beast, it finally lost its mind and charged at its destruction.  The poor little creature in front of it caught the entirety of its frantic rage as the miserable beast pounced upon it and bore it to the ground.  In full light, the beast looked like a skeletal wasp with its wings cut off.  It had a large abdomen that made up most of its lower body, with six legs sprouting from a
slender upper body and a screaming head that looked like it had an arrow-shaped helmet on.  Its skin was greyish and mottled and was stretched over bone and sinew that looked like it lacked any muscles.

As it pinned the squirming creature down, a split in the beast’s chest opened up and a spiked appendage shot out and impaled it.  The light from the torch burned into the beast’s skin and it sizzled and popped as if it were grease in a frying pan, but the thing continued to extend and retract the spiked appendage in its chest, jabbing into the dying creature in rapid succession.  Fibbitch yelled at it and the others crowded in on it, adding more light to the dead
Gimlet’s torch until the beast’s skin erupted in flames and it shriveled up into a husk.  The fire died out quickly and all that was left of the Grabber was a tangle of bones and smoked meat and the mostly intact head.  The surviving members of the group all stood around the corpse and stared until one of the creatures lifted his fist to the sky and yelped in triumph.  The others soon followed suit, whooping with delight until Fibbitch calmed them all down.

BOOK: Beyond the Hell Cliffs
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