Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians (35 page)

As soon as the first figure came through the opening I slammed Blackie down as hard as I could.

Unlike my head, this orcs's noggin wasn't hollow like a coconut.
 
The sound my weapon made was more like that of a small stick hitting a three hundred year old oak - solid wood, all the way through.

My dragon fang bounced off and vibrated so much it zapped my fingers, causing me to drop it.
 
And now I had one very pissed off and three other confused orcs in front of me to deal with.
 
All four of them began to roar and babble in orcan, throwing their arms up and weapons out, appearing momentarily freaked out about not knowing what the hell was going on.

I wasted no time in pressing my advantage.
 
I ran the first orc through the gut with my sword, a little happy and a lot disgusted at how easily the blade went into his thick hide.
 
I pulled it out quickly and lifted it up to slice at his neck, stepping to the side to avoid the spurt of thick black blood that came pouring out of his disgusting body.
 
He fell to the floor on his knees, his eyes rolling up into his head, leaving his three friends behind him with a clear view of their enemy.
 
Me.

A part of my brain registered the fact that the orc I'd just dropped was the one with the keys to the cages.
 
I heard the metal clank on the floor as his body went down the rest of the way.

I had hoped to be able to dispatch the guards one at a time, but they weren't as stupid as they looked.
 
They rushed me all at once, and my only strategy at that point became to not get caught.
 
I backed up, slicing and dicing the air in front of me, keeping the rock wall to my back.
 
If I let them get behind me I was a goner.

One of them a little bolder than the others came at me with his club raised, apparently planning to be a hero and brain me to save them all the trouble of getting knifed.
 
I meant to slice the arm holding the club to make it less of a threat, but I either didn't know my strength very well or the blade was sharper than I realized, because instead of slicing him, I did far worse.
 
I watched in horror as the club fell to the ground with the orc's clawed hand still attached to it, while the rest of him stayed standing.

His roar of pain and anger filled the room and hurt my ears.
 
The rest of his arm went flying up towards his face, spraying black acid blood out around us like it was a garden hose filled with tar, the spigot turned to fully open.
 
I backed away so fast, I didn't have time to look where I was going and I ran into the wall behind me, banging my head really hard.
 
I saw stars and had to shake myself to be able to see clearly again.

In my moment of semi-consciousness, another of the orcs decided to try and immobilize me. He came in low, but that was a mistake because my sword was already up high.
 
I had been trying to wipe my face with the back of my weapon-hand, using the other held me steady on the wall behind me.

I snapped to attention and screamed in fright, haphazardly dropping the blade down diagonally onto his crouched-over shoulder and neatly severing his head halfway from his neck.
 
He fell down immediately in a pile at my feet, bleeding heavily onto the floor.
 
The black tarry goop pooled beneath him, making it necessary that I move left or right to avoid burning my feet off.
 
I found myself hopping from one foot to the other as my brain computed my next move.

To the left was Spike and the hallway.
 
To the right was the closed-in corner of the room.
 
In a split second, I had to decide whether to risk having something come up behind me in that tunnel but to also have Spike's help, or to lure the remaining two orcs away from him, so maybe he could get out and go get our friends.

I decided the safest thing to do and the only thing that really made sense for our mission as a whole was to lead them away from Spike.
 
Maybe I'd make it out.
 
Maybe I wouldn't. But all of my friends would for sure, and that was all that mattered to me right now.

"Get the keys, Spike!
 
Get the others!"
 
I
 
yelled as I sidestepped to my right.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

THE TWO REMAINING ORCS FOLLOWED me away from Spike, and I saw him speed past them to go over to their downed comrade.
 
I started jumping up and down like a lunatic and waving my arms all around, hoping for a distraction.

"Woo hoo, you ugly-ass orcs!
 
Look at me!
 
Yeah, that's right!
 
I'll cut alla y'alls' heads off now.
 
Step right up and get your blood taken.
 
No!
 
Don't look over there!
 
Look over here at me!
 
The girl who's gonna chop your nuts off!
 
And I don't even know if you have nuts!"

Anytime they started to look like they were going to turn in Spike's direction, as he squatted down trying to move the heavy orc body off the keys, I reached out and poked at one of them with the sword.

"Ha!
 
Gotcha on that one, you big ugly bastard!
 
Hey, look!
 
Gotcha again!
 
Oh man, that looks like it hurts!
 
Come on and get another one!
 
I'm running a special on beheadings today, two for one!" I screamed like a wild woman, swinging my blade in a wide arc, hoping one of them would take me up on my offer soon.
 
I was getting tired from all the action, definitely not in shape for this kind of aerobics.

My breath was coming in gasps, and I felt not only terribly winded and thirsty but also very nauseous.
 
It could have been the dismembering, but I was pretty sure it was more likely the overexertion.
 
I'd felt this way before when I'd tried out for the track team, yacking in the bushes one mile into a two mile run.
 
Some bodies were made for lots of exercise.
 
Mine was made more for lots of naps.

As soon as Spike snuck out of the room, I stopped swinging my sword, putting it down by my side, tip in the dirt.
 
The two orcs stopped roaring and gesturing for a second, just staring at me.

"Yeah," I said, breathing heavily, "just hold up for a second, would ya?
 
I need to catch my breath."

The orc on my left roared and pounced.
 
My right hand surged down to join my left, the one that had been holding the sword on the ground.
 
The beast was on me so fast, the only thing I had time to do was lift the sword from where it was, up in the general direction of my attacker.
 
The metal made contact at the same time that he reached me, his arms out and ready to grab my head and probably rip it from my shoulders.

But instead of taking off my body parts, he kind of froze, and my sword came to rest somewhere inside him.
 
It was hard for me to tell where my sword was exactly, though, because he had a long tunic thingy on that blocked my view.
 
I ducked and pulled myself out to the right, getting out of his semi-embrace and scootching along the wall.
 
I dragged my sword with me, slicing him a bit more in the process.

The orc stood up straight, a look of orcan shock spread across his face for a few quiet seconds before he tipped his lumpy head back and roared so loud, pieces of the ceiling fell down on his head.
 
He staggered back a few steps, blood pouring down his legs and leaving a thick trail in front of him as he got farther and farther away.
 
He finally came to rest in the middle of the room.

And then something fell down on the ground at his feet in a juicy plop, followed by fresh spurts from between his legs of the tarry mess that pumped through his rotten veins.

"What in the hell was that?" I asked, staring in fascination at the black, lumpy thing that sat unmoving at the orc's feet.

He looked down slowly, and as soon as he saw what it was, lifted his club and began beating his own head in.
 
And that's when it hit me.

"Oh, my sweet Jesus in a manger ..." My voice went up a full octave.
 
" ... I just cut your balls off, dude!"

The other orc was watching the whole scene play out, and within seconds of his friend beginning his self-mutilation, went over and joined the party.
 
He knocked his friend over and bashed his skull over and over until it looked like a watermelon that had been dropped from a four-story building.

I couldn't move.
 
Nothing in my human or fae life had prepared me for this scene, and nothing in any horror movie or any newspaper article had ever made me even stop to consider what it would be like to castrate an orc and then watch him commit orcicide with a friend's enthusiastic help.

Jared came running into the room, skidding to a halt when he saw the orc finishing off his friend.

The only orc still standing spun to face him, advancing with his club raised, snapping me out of my trance.
 
I rushed towards the orc's back, using the last bit of strength I had to run the point of my blade through his spine.
 
I let go of the handle and stood there quivering in fatigue and shock.

He arched back, his arms flopping down to his sides and his head lolling to the right.
 
His legs collapsed under him, and he fell face-first into the dirt, causing a poof of dust to come up and float over him for a few seconds.
 

As soon as his body was down, I was able to see Jared again, my view no longer blocked by a beast with murder on his mind.
 
Behind him in the doorway was a pile-up of all my other friends.
 
Tim came flying in over all of them.

"Whoa, what happened in here?
 
Would you look at this mess?
 
Orc blood, ack!
 
Gack!
 
Nasty stuff."
 
As he was flying over to see how I was doing, his attention was caught by something on the floor.
 
He hovered over it, zipping left and right, trying to get a bead on what it was.

I followed the path of his gaze and blanched.

"What is that?" asked Tim, dropping down to get a closer look.
 
"Is that a hand?
 
No, that's not a hand.
 
Is that a ... finger?
 
No, it's not a finger ... is it ... is it ... oh my ... is
that?"
 
He looked up at me.
 
"Jayne ... did you ... ?" He looked back down at the lumpy thing on the floor and then zoomed up so high, so quick, he hit the ceiling and knocked himself silly.

I ran over, holding my hands out and catching him just before he hit the dirt.
 
I stood up breathing so heavily I thought I was going to barf, staring down into my palms and praying Tim was going to be okay.
 
He was on his back, his arms and legs spread out like a starfish.

"Tim," I gasped, "are you alright?"
 
I tried to lick my lips, but there was no spit left on my tongue.
 
I coughed a couple times from instant dry throat tickles.

Tim opened one eye, staring up at me suspiciously.
 
"Jayne?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don't cut off my pixie mcnuggets."

I shook my head, knowing I was never going to live this down.
 
"I won't.
 
I promise.
 
Abby would kill me."

Jared came over and looked down at Tim.
 
"Why would Abby kill you?" he asked, putting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing it gently, shaking me a little too in a friendly way.

"Never mind.
 
Can we just go please?
 
We need to find Samantha and get the hell out of this hole."

We started to walk out, but Jared happened to look down just as we were walking by orc number three. "What is that?" he asked, stopping next to the orc testicles.

I pushed him on the back, urging him out.
 
"Don't worry about it.
 
Just go."

Tim flew up out of my hands, racing to the door.
 
"It's orc balls!
 
Severed orc balls!
 
We have a berserker on our hands! Run for your lives!"
 
He disappeared through the doorway, flying so close to Finn's face, he caused him to fall backwards to avoid being hit.

"What in the sam hill is wrong with that little guy?" asked Finn.

"He's got gas," I said.
 
"Didn't want to turn this place into a gas chamber."

"Oh.
 
And now the question I have for my own self is why I even asked that.
 
I shoulda known better."
 
Finn walked out, shaking his head.
 
Niles followed him, pushing past Spike who was just coming in to find me.

Spike walked around Jared and pulled me into a hug so tight it squished what little breath I had left out of me.
 
I started coughing and wheezing in my struggle to get air into my lungs.

"Oh, damn.
 
Sorry."
 
Spike dropped our backpacks that he'd apparently collected from behind the cage off his shoulder and bent down to grab a water bottle out.
 
I snagged it from him and spun the top off, not even caring that I dropped it in the dirt.
 
I chugged the entire thing in five seconds flat.