The Darkslayer: Book 02 - Blades in the Night (9 page)

He led Verbard to a barred dungeon room. Now Catten could see the source of the stench: torn and shredded human bodies that had been decaying for weeks, if not months. Verbard laughed as he swung the door open and studied the corpses. Catten wondered what had killed them—and why his brother found the whole scene amusing. Whatever killed these individuals was neither underling nor human. Catten walked around, eyes flashing. Whatever had killed them might still be around. Oran’s lair was littered with caverns and tiny dungeons like this one. Whatever it was … could be anywhere.

“
Oran really was a strange one indeed,” Verbard said. “His obsession with all the other races was out of control. I think it would have been best to have killed him, rather than banish him. I just don’t see the point in all of this and do not care to, either.”

His brother’s words echoed but Catten remained silent. Verbard dropped down on a velvety red couch down the way and uncovered his nose. Catten heard him chitter an order, then watched as the albino urchlings dragged the foul carcasses into the Current one by one.

Moving down the corridor, Lord Catten’s gold eyes widened when he discovered a study-like room. A table of papers, scrolls, and notes sat in the room: just what he was looking for. Using magic, he sorted through the objects and notes, suspended them before his eyes, then moved them with a wave of his hand. He knew there must be a clue here, but he also knew that Oran would have taken due care in leaving his objectives behind to be hidden from others. Catten took his time, and eventually Verbard came in and sat down on a small couch opposite the table.

The hours passed in long silence. As he worked, the thoughts of facing the Darkslayer didn’t exactly thrill Catten, but he felt himself relaxing in the odd ambience of Oran’s lair, with some newly founded admiration.

Maybe Oran was smarter than all of us,
he thought.

While Verbard slept, Catten went on trying to familiarize himself with Oran’s dealings. It revealed a lot of details about the races and creatures on Bish that he did not know, but none of it mentioned any dealings with the Darkslayer. It was very clear to Catten that Oran took great care in not revealing his intentions about anything he was going to do, but only recorded what he’d already done.

Feeling frustrated and weary of his search, Catten riddled his pointed nails into the table while listening to his brother snore. He overturned the table. Verbard snapped up. The Juegen guards surrounded Catten, as the urchlings did with Verbard.

Verbard stood and walked toward Catten.

“
I don’t think Oran would appreciate that,” Verbard said with a hiss.

Catten turned away and raised his hands to chest level, palms out. He muttered as he felt magic swell into him. Power surged into his hands, and his fingernails glowed a faint blue. Verbard stepped back.

Shutting his eyes and trusting his magic to guide him, Catten turned and panned his way around the cavern. Catten had always been a natural with magic, some for protection, but also for detection, which he relied on now. He felt his hands brighten. Step after step, he felt himself drawn to powerful magic. His hands were burning like fire when he let the spell go. Before him stood several big jars on the floor. He moved them and discovered a small chest hidden beneath them in the ground.

“
It seems you have found something, brother,” Verbard said, smiling.

“
Indeed,” Catten said with a nod. “Now let’s see what Oran has been hoarding over the years.”

Catten reached down, but Verbard pulled him back. Then Verbard’s hand glowed before him as he levitated the painted chest from the cave floor. A pair of white-fanged serpents slithered out and struck the chest at the handles, imbedding themselves into the wood. Catten grabbed each serpent, snapped their necks, and tossed them away. Verbard then guided the chest to another table and set it down.

Standing over the table, Catten inspected the dark chest. Images of fiends were painted on it, and the chest seemed almost alive in the green candlelight. Catten looked at his brother, who shrugged. With a wave of Verbard’s palm, the chest lid opened. Inside, on top, were trinkets and treasure. Catten tossed all of it out. Digging deeper, he found scrolls, potions, and vials, setting them on the table as he pulled them from the chest.

Verbard bent over, sniffing the vials. “Hmm … good stuff,” he said.

Oran, you dirty underling,
Catten thought.
You have a nice hoard here. No wonder you kept to yourself.

Catten smiled at his brother, who returned his own in kind. He felt connected to him again. Then an odd feeling crept back into Catten’s mind: they weren’t alone.

Catten turned in time to see a long barbed tentacle snag one of the urchlings. It screamed, helpless, as the tentacle tore into its body, dragging it into the Current. Then something ancient and foul crawled out of the Current only a dozen yards from where they stood inside the study room. The remaining urchlings gathered in front of Verbard, while the armored Juegen defended Catten.

Seeing the creature rise from the Current, Catten shook his head. He had never seen anything like it before. It was a black mass of flesh with a snapping maw the size of a watermelon. Dozens of long tentacles protruded from its muddy jellyfish-like body. It hissed with a twisted long tongue that looked to have an eye at its tip. Then it moved toward them.

The Juegen burst into action, cutting the whipping tentacles away. Their curved twin blades sliced with precision and ease through the tentacles, but they were being overwhelmed by the thrashing monster. The urchlings threw any object they could find at the creature—including items from the table.

“
No!” Catten screamed. “Brother, take care of this!”

Catten scrambled to save the potions before they were all gone. The screams of the Juegen distracted him. They were in trouble; he had to act. He heard his brother chant a spell as he himself stepped out of reach of the tentacles.

Verbard’s spell was powerful. Catten could feel the energy his brother summoned as he watched Verbard hold his hands out as if he was going to grab something. His brother looked at the monster, then clasped his hands tightly together.

You can do it,
brother.

Catten could feel his brother squeezing something. The monster’s screech was ear shattering. It struggled, then its tentacles loosened on the Juegen and they went back to chopping away at the creature. Catten avoided the onslaught, stepping back and knocking over the work table, then stumbling to his knees. From the floor, he felt his brother squeeze even more, but he felt Verbard’s strength ebb. Catten sensed his brother’s pain-filled mind and aching chest, and directed a thought toward him:
The Darkslayer, brother! Remember!

An eruption of power came forth from Verbard as he squeezed his hands and ignored the burning pain in his chest. Dark hatred coursed through Verbard’s mind and Catten could feel it all. Verbard’s compressed hands now glowed like a thousand candles, and his face twisted in a snarl of rage, sweat dripping off his brow.

The Catten felt the final heave of Verbard.

POP!

The creature splattered—everywhere. Chunks of slimy flesh showered the room. Verbard fell to the ground clutching his chest.

“
Happy, dear brother?” Verbard croaked, spitting out a dash of blood.

“
No. Your idiot urchlings destroyed the potions.” Catten shook his head, extending his hand to Verbard. “I see you still are not completely healed from the Warfield.”

“
No, I’m not, but the more I use magic, the better I feel. That exercise did serve me for the better, and that is why I did it,” Verbard said, out of breath.

“
I see.”

Catten gathered up the chest and placed it on a different table. He pulled out another object: a scroll. He rolled it out.

“
Take a look at this,” Catten said.

As his brother drew near, Catten’s gold eyes darted over it. As Verbard read over it, Catten could sense his brother feeling better the more he read.

“
Do you think it will work?” Verbard asked.

Catten shrugged his shoulders. “There is only one way to find out.”

They cleared off a large circular table in another cavern. Catten grabbed a thick vial from the chest and poured scintillating glitter on the table. It crackled and smoke on the surface. He felt excitement growing within. Verbard stood behind his brother and put his hands on his shoulders. Catten read from the scroll. The spell was strong, his words a whisper, soon turning to thunder. It took over his body as he read, sucking out the magic within. Catten, though, could feel Verbard’s will strengthening him. His heart was bursting but it was thrilling at the same time. The cavern seemed to shrink and grow before him. A gateway opened in Catten’s mind, from somewhere else, somewhere incomprehensible. Something dark and sinister came through it. A brilliant golden flash burst in Catten’s eyes. He fell, but Verbard caught him and pulled him up. Steadying himself, Catten smelled sulfur.

He looked at the table. Two black leathery bat-like wings flapped gently before him—the wings being attached to the back of a three-foot-high imp whose head was looking left to right and rasping with shrill excitement.

“
You killed him, Master Oran!” the imp said. “You killed that man that spiked me! Let me eat his head! Where are you, Master Oran? Do you sleep? Are you back in your lair?”

Catten watched as Eep the imp turned around. Its big eye popped open wide. It turned back around—then back again, slowly opening its eyelid. The imp had tiny horns on his head, a single large orb-like eye over a hawkish nose with flaring nostrils, all of which sat above an oversized mouth filled with white razor-sharp teeth. Eep had short muscular arms with hands that featured a thumb and three long black-clawed fingers made for ripping flesh and bones to shreds. Its skin was ruddy, purple, scaled, and knotted. Eep was a one-of-a-kind horror in the world of Bish and even the underlings admired him. Catten couldn’t have been more thrilled. The legendary imp was now at his command.

Lord Verbard, though, spoke first: “So, Eep, in a unique turn of events, it appears you are no longer in Oran’s service. No need to thank us; it seems he has undone himself, but I think that you can possibly shed some light on things.”

Catten knew that Eep wanted nothing more than to tear their throats out. Over the decades, he and his brother had tormented the imp to death while Oran was his master. He envied Oran’s possession of the imp, but now the fearless terror was his. Verbard grabbed the imp’s long dimpled chin.

“
The last time you came to us with a message about the Darkslayer,” Verbard said to Eep. “I want a full detailed recount of everything that transpired since then and up to this very moment. Don’t try to trick us, or we’ll send you back to your realm in pieces again.”

Eep muttered something under his breath then nodded.

Catten clapped his brother on the shoulder.

“
Enjoy your new pet, brother.” Verbard couldn’t contain his elated smile.

It would likely take months, maybe longer to track down the Darkslayer, but with the imp’s help, it would go quicker. Catten rummaged for some wine. Then he and Verbard sat down on the sofa and hung on the imp’s every word. Eep told them everything about the adventure of Oran, the human detective McKnight, and the human Royal named Tonio. He did not leave out a single detail and could not even if he wanted to. Catten lay back, drunk with fascination.

“
I’m truly starting to appreciate some of the things the underling Oran did, brother,” Lord Verbard said while studying the jars of humanoid experiments.

He didn’t hear a reply as he scowled at Catten’s back, whose nose was down in other studies. Verbard was starting to feel better while his brother was becoming more edgy. In truth, he didn’t mind the lair so much. He studied what he could and relaxed, while his brother studied without sleep. So be it.

In the meantime, Verbard had enjoyed the services of the evil imp Eep—at least until he sent him out on his mission. He had been curious and wanted to test out his new toy’s limits. So Verbard had set up a battle. He watched the imp fight and almost kill one of his urchlings in a matter of seconds. He stopped the scuffle just as Eep was about the tear out its throat. He was still tickled, though. Then he told the imp he couldn’t kill or maim during the next bout.

Eep had then fought all five of the urchlings. The scrap was so brutal that it had caught Catten’s attention. He was elated at the imp’s unyielding fury. He clapped as the imp subdued all of the urchlings.

“
Put him in with my Juegen,” Catten said, arms folded in his cloak.

My, he is speaking to me now,
Verbard had thought.

Verbard opened the dungeon gate.
This is going to be excellent.

The Juegen strolled in. Eep clutched his claws and Catten almost smiled. He slammed the door shut behind them.

Catten’s guards pounced at the imp with precision and speed, cutting the imp to ribbons. He heard his brother hiss under his breath. Eep could do little to avoid their blades, as the confines of the cell limited him. Verbard could feel the imp’s anger rise, causing him to clench his teeth.
Take it to them!
Eep pounded the two armored guards, darting back and forth, and busting their faces. The imp was stronger, endless in energy, and it wore them down. Verbard wanted to scream in triumph, but Catten tore the door open and stopped the bout. He watched his brother and the wounded warriors walk away. He stepped inside and patted the imp on the head. Eep swallowed a piece of Juegen ear and blinked away.