Torment and Terror (5 page)

CHAPTER 11

It didn’t matter. Not life. Not anymore. All Venir had wanted to do was destroy his obstacles, Slom and Zurth. He’d made all of his calculations. Was willing to assume all of the risks. Kill them both no matter what the cost. If he died, he died. So be it. At least, he hoped, Kam and Erin would be safe.

He spat up blood. His chest burned with fire. His skin was soft and clammy. He coughed and sputtered. Slom and Zurth were dead. He was dying. That was all he recalled.

“Venir! Venir!”

It was the distant voice of a woman. A red blur loomed over his head, shouting with desperation. He couldn’t make out the sounds too well. The face was blurry. His memories were fading.

“Venir! Don’t you die on me, Venir!”

He hacked. Whoever screamed for him needed to save their breath. Death was his bedfellow now. He lingered between the lukewarm world of life and the cold one of death. Inside, something fought to hang on. Something always fought. Struggled. Strived. Hungered. His bloody fingernails clawed at the edges of a cliff. He hung on. He climbed.

Not yet.

Something still mattered. Was unfinished. Bright speckled eyes appeared in the darkness. They mocked. They chittered.

Not yet!

Unaided, Venir sat up in a baptism of pain. His heavy eyelids snapped open. He gazed into the face of a bewildered woman. A steely spiked helmet trembled in her hands. The words spoken into his ears were not heard. The eyelets of the helmet bore into him. Limbs coming to life despite death’s valiant efforts to take him down, Venir stuffed his blood-caked fingers into Helm’s eyelet holes.

“Give me that.”

Dripping blood from his chest, he rose to his feet. Scanning the room and all of its blurry faces, he shoved the helmet on his head, started to buckle the strap, and collapsed down on the wet red floor.

“Noooooooo!” a woman screamed.

The only thing Venir heard was his heart’s last beats. Thump-thump! Thump-thump …

***

“Venir! Venir!” Kam cried out. She squeezed his hand. “Get up, you oversized lout!”

He didn’t move. Not a muscle. Not a twitch.

She checked, but his blood no longer pumped.

“Melegal!” She whirled around. “I thought you said the helmet would heal him!”

She saw the thief standing down inside the hole in the planks where the bolder had fallen on Scorch. His head was down as if he was searching for something.

“Ah,” said the rail-thin man. He plucked something from down in the cavity and waved it high over his head. “I found it!” He smoothed his floppy grey cap over his head and smiled.

“What are you smiling at?” Kam shouted at him. “A cap? Venir’s dead!”

Melegal hopped out of the hole, walked over, and leaned down over Venir. “That seems to be the current situation.” He adjusted his cap again. “How’s that look?”

Kam’s jaw dropped. She drew back her fist to punch him.

Melegal eased away. “Ah ah ah.” He pointed at Venir’s neck. “Oh, I see the problem.”

Kam glanced at Venir. The helmet’s chin strap wasn’t buckled. “You’re joking. Buckle the strap?”

“Well, it won’t stay on by itself.”

Crash!

Trinos’s body smashed through the roof, in one side and out the other.

Scorch appeared, sailing through the hole. His eyes were fire. Fist-bright emeralds. He didn’t give them a glance. Eyes intent, he followed after Trinos and vanished.

“Hurry up!” Melegal said.

Kam fought to buckle the strap, but it was impossible with her lone hand.

Joline’s hands shook so much that she was of no aid at all.

Melegal rolled his eyes at her.

“You could help, you know!” she yelled.

“And have his blood all over my hands? I don’t think so.”

The entire building shook. The sounds were that of a great thunderstorm outside. Eyes were wide and searching all around.

Erin, sitting up on a table, started crying.

Frustrated, Kam tried again to get the thief to help. “We’ve got to get out of here before this entire place comes down!”

Just then, a pair of apparition-like figures appeared, swords in hand. The robed fighters, the Nameless Two, drifted outside of the building after Trinos.

Still fighting with the buckle, Kam watched them go. It sounded as if the entire world was falling apart all around her. “Jasper! The baby!”

The little sorceress picked the baby girl up and held her close. With fear-filled eyes, she held Erin over her shoulder and patted her on the back.

Melegal yawned.

How can he be yawning at a time like this?

“What?” he said, sitting down in the chair. “I’ve been busy the last few days. All of this excitement fatigues me.”

“You’re just going to sit there and do nothing?” Kam was incredulous. Infuriated. The man she loved was deader than a doornail. “I hope Scorch torments you first.”

Finishing off another yawn, Melegal stretched his boot out and dragged the mystic sack over. Bending over, he picked up the sack and reached inside. Hand over hand, he pulled Brool out. He stuck it in the planks spike first.

Brows buckled, Kam said to him, “Of all the stupid things to do. I hate—”

Venir rose up with the ease of a cat and wiped the blood from his mouth with his forearm. He finished buckling his chinstrap. Coming to his feet, gently he brought Kam up by her elbow.

She threw her arms around him.

He gave her a quick hug in kind then stepped away.

Melegal had his shield ready, stuffed the straps over Venir’s great arm and said, “Enjoy your nap?”

“Heh,” Venir said, wrapping his fingers around Brool’s shaft. He looked at the dead bodies of Slom and Zurth. “Sorry I killed your new friends.”

“Are you really?”

“Of course not.” Venir stood like a titan armored in dark steel. Powerful. Captivating. Deadly.

Kam had never seen him like that before. It was the man she’d often heard about but never known. The Darkslayer.

The storm of battle still thundered all around.

Drawn to Venir, Kam got closer to him. “What do we do?”

“What I always do,” Venir growled.

“Drink too much?” Melegal said.

Venir shook his head. “It’s time to take out whatever stands between me and the underlings.”

“Oh, the fight or die thing again,” Melegal added. “How thrilling.”

Trinos’s body crashed into the room, coming to a stop against the bar. She struggled to rise and slipped down again.

Scorch appeared, floating above them. He held the Nameless Two, one in each of his hands, like pieces of dead meat. He dropped them down onto the planks. Lip bleeding, he wiped his mouth and said with wroth anger, “I’ve had enough of this!”

CHAPTER 12

Glitch!

Georgio rammed his sword through the belly of an underling and turned on another.

Clashing with his, the blade sparked.

Georgio drove a boot into its gut, lifting it up off its feet and knocking it down. He pounced. He struck. His longsword went through the underling’s mail like a hot knife through butter.

The underling’s ruby eyes went out.

Glitch!

Georgio let out a roar of pain. A javelin had lanced through the back of his thigh, in one side and out the other. He turned into the vicious assault.

Two underlings bore him into the ground. Their quick hands, filled with daggers, started stabbing him all over.

***

“In the air!” Billip yelled. “In the air!”

“Aye!” Nikkel said. He aimed the heavy crossbow high. “I see them.”

Moments ago, Boon had blown up the sandcastle’s mirrored weapons. The old wizard had plummeted into the battle.

Billip had been fighting through the hordes, trying to find him. That was when it happened. Underlings drifted out of from behind the castle’s walls and started unleashing mystic missiles, lightning, and other weapons. Billip had a smoking hole in his leg to show for it. “I need a wall! A wall now!”

Striders circled around the pair of archers. The fierce bug fighters stabbed into every underling that surged at their wall. The strange four-armed men’s spears struck like snakes. Eyes, hearts, and bellies were gouged.

Billip nocked an arrow, raised up his bow, took aim on the closest floating underling, and let loose.

Twang!

The arrow whizzed through the air and smote the underling mage clean in the chest.

Feathered shaft protruding from him, the underling spiraled downward, slowly and tortuously.

The jung, hardy black bearded men, jumped up at the first opportunity. They yanked the underling from the sky and chopped him up into bits.

Billip loosed another shaft of death. This one dotted an underling’s forehead. Still, more underlings kept coming. “Nikkel! Are you going to take a shot or not?”

“I can’t load up as fast as you,” Nikkel said. Bolt-thrower hugged his cheek, and his eye was squeezed closed. “Just wait for it.”

Billip followed the young man’s aim.

Clatch-zip!

The bolt ripped through the sky. It lanced through one underling’s neck and stuck in the throat of another. Both of the shocked underlings choked on their black blood and started to drift into the horde bellow their feet.

The jung caught hold of them and finished them off.

“It’s two to two!” Nikkel said with a smile. He started reloading. “You won’t get a better quality shot than that.”

“You’re just like your father,” Billip said. He filled his string with two arrows. “But I’m the master of quality and quantity!”

Twang! Twang!

The arrows sailed straight for a sapphire-eyed underling mage. They bounced off an invisible barrier.

“Son of a Bish! I hate it when they do that.”

Nikkel lifted up his crossbow. “Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

Lightning blasted from the underling’s fingers. It ripped through the striders one after the other and forked off into the chest and belly of Billip and Nikkel.

“Argh!” Billip fell to the ground. His chest was smoking, and pain shot like thousands of hot needles through his body. Mind addled, he stared at his broken bow string. While he was starting to his knees, a strider fell on top of him, dead.

The air all around him was erupting. Screams of pain and chitters of delight filled the air. The ground shook. A shadow fell. Something big and nasty had emerged from the dirt.

***

His name was Tarcot, a strider. A warrior. Four arms. Four spears. His hands were filled with death. Every time an underling showed its chittering face, he filled it with pointy metal. “Hauk! Hauk!” he said, time and again. It was his battle cry. He squared up on another underling.

This one held a pair of one-handed crossbows and pointed the deadly bolts at him. The black fiend offered a nasty smile and fired. Two small bolts rocketed toward Tarcot’s chest.

The strider flattened on the ground. “Hauk!” A bolt lodged itself between the meat and bone of his shoulder. “Hauk!” He ripped it out, rose to his feet, and charged the underling. His uncanny long legs covered the distance in two strides.

The underling fighter went for his sword.

“Hauk!” Four spear tips struck at once, skewering from chest to back. Tarcot hoisted the underling like a stuck pig high in the air and screamed. “Hauk!”

More striders returned the word in kind. “Hauk!”

Black blood dripping down his spears, Tarcot slung the underling corpse aside. His eyes searched for the next foe.

The ground shook beneath him.

Nearby, an enormous beast erupted from the ground.

Underlings, jungs, and striders were toppled. Dusty smoke filled the air, and the roar of a hundred thunderstorms followed.

“Mah-Rooooooooo!”

Tarcot’s bug eyes blinked. His praying mantis-like face spoke. “Slat.”

CHAPTER 13

Axe in hand, Venir said, “Then leave.”

A blast of rays shot from Scorch’s eyes.

Venir jerked his shield up.

The blast hit it with ram-like force and knocked him over.

Like a cat, he was back on his feet again. Jaw set. Axe ready.

Blink!

Eep appeared behind Scorch and tore at his backside.

Venir barked out orders. “Kam, get Erin. You and Joline find safety.” He saw an argument in her emerald eyes. “Now!”

Kam took Joline by the hand, scooped Erin up, and muttered something. The three of them vanished.

“What about my safety?” Melegal said to him.

“Save your own skinny arse.” Breathing easier, Venir focused on Scorch.

He had Eep by the wings and had started to tear one of them off.

The imp let out a glass-shattering screech.

Trinos found her way to her feet. Her arms stretched out like mystic tentacles and wrapped around Scorch’s ankles. She jerked the man out of the air and into the planks with a crack. The bright blue tendrils encompassed Scorch’s body. His waist and neck were encircled. The bright tendrils started squeezing, and Scorch’s face turned purple.

“Kill him!” Trinos yelled to Venir. “Now!”

Brool hefted over his shoulder and poised to strike, Venir charged. In three giant strides he closed the gap and brought the devastating axe down like a sickle.

Scorch winked.

Blade inches from Scorch’s face, Venir’s limbs became stone.
Bish!
Fighting against the unseen force, Venir’s muscles bulged and strained. Sweat dripped from his body. Blue veins rose up under his skin like snakes. He didn’t budge an inch.
Noooo!

***

Scorch started to grow and squirm free. His face was anger and power entwined into a perverted and celestial being. “I said, I’ve had enough of this!”

Trinos’s face filled with strain and wrinkles. She held on, hoping someone could take Scorch down. It wasn’t happening. Scorch was clever. Hard fought. Far from soft like the other celestial beings she remembered. His will was iron. With a heave, she slammed him into the planks again, causing many to splinter.

“Give it up, Trinos!” he fired back. “I’ve been around so much longer. You have no power over me! Your will is weak!” His body turned to molten fire.

Trinos screamed again. “Aiiieeeeee!” Faltering, her tendrils faded, and she staggered back and away from the scorching flames. Mind numb from the excruciating force, she tapped into Bish’s power and summoned everything she could from its depths. Narrowing her eyes, she made an uncanny beam of power rip through Scorch and spin him around.

“Aargh!” Scorch cried out. Fingers clutching, he fell to his knees gaping at the wound that went straight through his chest. A clear hole was there. Small but significant. He poked his finger through it. “That’s just nasty.”

Trinos crossed the room and slugged him across the jaw.

Whap!

His head snapped back. Teetering forward he said, “Oh, a little salt in the wound, eh? So very unkind of you.”

Eep dropped from the rafters, one wing hanging, and chomped deep into Scorch’s shoulder.

The eternal being grimaced and said, “Now you’re just being annoying.”

Trinos drew back and punched him again.

Whack!

The blow broke his nose. Something like blood dripped out. “Oh come now, Trinos. You won’t kill me. It’s not in your nature.”

Whack! Whack!

“Will you stop hitting me! You aren’t going to kill me that way. Use a sword or something, not that it will do you any good!”

“I hate you!” She punched him again and again and again. Scorch had ruined everything. Her world. Her people. Yet he was right. She had doubt. He was mortal—all powerful, but still mortal. But did she have what it took to unleash the final blow?

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“You look tired,” Scorch said from his busted face. It was bruised and swollen. Blood dripped over his lip. “I say we take a break. Even better, I’ll declare that you won this bout. I have to admit, you did surprise me. It’s extremely rare that I’m caught off guard.” He coughed and sputtered. “It saddens me that you hate me so.”

“You destroy everything.”

“It’s in my nature to meddle.” He spat a tooth out. “I can’t leave, you know. You saw to that.”

The flames lit back up in her eyes.

“Easy now. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t your doing. But you have to admit, Trinos, this is just what you wanted. A world of endless entertainment. Have I not given you exactly what you wanted? Even more so?”

He made a good point. But what Scorch did wasn’t part of her plan. He was a curse. A plague. There was no way her world would survive with him in it. A mystic sword appeared in her hands. Its blade glowed like a hundred stars. “Your time is over, Scorch.”

“Please, Trinos, please,” he pleaded. “Have mercy on me!”

“No, I’ll show compassion and feel bad for what I’m about to do, but mercy will be ridding this world of you.” She raised the sword overhead. “Goodbye, Scorch.”

“Alas,” he replied with eyes hiding a smile, “Goodbye, Trinos.”

Starting into her swing, every fiber of her being tingled. Someone was behind her. She whirled around. Scorch stood before her, just as perfect as ever. A star-filled knife was in his hand. He rammed it through her belly.

“Ugh!”

Leering into her fading eyes, he said, “How’s that for Mercy?”