Kickass Anthology (17 page)

“Don’t touch it, you oaf. I’m serious.” Madd calling Vorgell an oaf was both a form of endearment and a criticism of his common sense. “Sun magic is dangerous. It causes anyone who touches it to burn.”

Really? Madd’s information on dangerous things was usually sound. “Like our friend over there?” Vorgell looked over to where Grobba’s body, at last, was completely burned and dead and still. He felt a twinge of sadness at how they could not help him.

“Maybe. If the guy who did it used
sun magic
.”

“But you said the Sun’s power turns stones into warriors.” Vorgell closed his hand around the hide-wrapped shaft and lifted the rod. He pointed it to the man Petal had turned to stone. “Would it turn
this
man back to flesh?”

“How the hells would I know? I mean, stone doesn’t burn, right? Don’t tell me you want to try—”

“I think we should.”

“Why? If your idiot attempt succeeds, he’ll just try to kill us.” Madd stared at him in dismay. “Oh fuck, you’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’ve got the brains of an ox. Wait! At least let me get a weapon in case your crazy idea works.”

Madd grabbed up his sword again. It was blackened a bit, but looked up to the job. Even Petal, roused by their squabbling crept down from her rock and scampered over to hunker at Madd’s feet.

Turning the rod so the wrapping fell away from the disk altogether, Vorgell extended his arm and, standing as far as he could from the petrified evil-doer, lowered the staff until the golden rim touched an outstretched hand. He felt a tingle of magic snap in the air, a sharp tang in his nose and lifting of the fine hairs on his arms and legs. Tendrils of light wove a golden net over the fallen figure. And then it stirred. Awkwardly, still stiff from stone or death, the stone mage rose. Stone legs lifted a stone body onto stone feet.

Yet no part of him returned to flesh. Where supple skin should have covered a body of muscle and blood, the man’s color was still gray. When the stone head turned, stone eyes like carved things fixed on him. Vorgell held out his empty hands and it turned away.

“Drop your weapon, Madd!” He waved his hands for his partner to see. “Now!” To his relief, Madd opened his fingers. His sword fell to the ground just before the stone man saw him. Madd followed Vorgell’s example and held up his hands. Petal stared at the thing to no effect.

The stone man reached down, picked up Vorgell’s fallen sword, straightened its back and walked away. They followed at a distance until they were out of the ruins and watched as it strode with heavy steps toward the road.

“What the fuck is that?” Madd hadn’t stopped staring.

“I do not know.” Vorgell had never seen such a thing. “But Petal’s gaze had no effect. We may have just sent something very evil toward Gurgh.”

Toward their home. Toward their friends, such as they had. Already Grobba lay dead, a mound of ashes. To think that Tagard the thief king might end up that way, or lively Reannry….

“This is bad.” Madd sounded scared. “Let’s go back. We probably can’t stop that thing, but I’m pretty damn sure we shouldn’t leave the Sun Staff lying out for just anyone to find.”

They found the staff as they had left it, undisturbed on the sand, its thick disk brightly reflecting the late afternoon sun. Vorgell quickly covered it again with its wrapping of soft goat hide. He then fetched a gold ring from one of the chests and placed it among Grobba’s ashes, because it was bad luck for a thief to go to the afterworld with nothing to his name. He was covering the crumbled corpse with gravel and sand when Madd returned leading three horses.

“I figured it made sense our stone man didn’t carry all that gold here by himself.” Madd hunkered down at his side and frowned at the makeshift grave. “Grobba stole the sacred Sun Staff for a reason.”

“I should say two chests of gold tells us the reason.”

“His reason.”

Madd helped Vorgell finish with the corpse. Together, they also buried the gold, digging in sand that had drifted high between fallen stones. The sun sank low behind the ruins, casting long shadows by the time they were through. Petal had climbed back into her usual sleeping place, warm and snug in the drape of Vorgell’s hood. He picked up the staff and walked with Madd outside the tumbled walls. The land outside was as dry and lifeless as what they had just left behind.

“We have an idea what this thing can do,” Vorgell said. For him the staff in his hand had more bitter meaning than value. “But I think we need to know more. We need to know who that robed man was—and why Grobba stole this staff for him.”

Madd’s dark eyes met his. Even smudged with concern, those eyes awakened stirrings of lust that Vorgell was hard put to ignore. “Grobba named the Salid of Anssif. Maybe that’s who the man worked for.”

The sorcerers of Anssif had long hated Gurgh and its wizards. Something about a dead river and a curse that made their once fertile land so dry that any water falling on it was swallowed to the last drop, leaving none for living things. As with most cases of this sort, Anssif had promised vengeance. Perhaps the Salid, Anssif’s sorcerer king, had decided now was a good time to make his move. Gurgh’s boy king relied on advisors, wizards, and priests and left his army to warlords. Warlords, as Vorgell knew, could be bought.

Another question came to mind. “Why would the Salid want
this
artifact?”

Madd snorted. “Other than that it’s made of gold and could be ransomed for more gold? Let’s see. Maybe it makes things burn? Like city walls? Or people?”

“We proved it does not burn stone. But people, yes.” He sighed. “Perhaps we should take the horses and ride to warn Gurgh. And return the staff.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant. Of course no one is going to think
we
stole it.”

Which was likely, because they were rather well-known to be thieves. Vorgell’s shoulders slumped. He really wanted to save Gurgh. Even if he would never be more than a barbarian thief to the rulers of the city, there were many there whom he counted as family. This last few months had shown him that Scur had nothing left for him. What few loyalties he held belonged to his adopted city. And to Madd, for whom Gurgh’s fluted rooftops, hidden gambling dens, and peacock fashions might as well have been made, they suited him so well.

Far away, toward the dry river no one in their right mind ever went to see, clouds of dust stirred red in the failing light.

“That doesn’t look natural.” Vorgell pointed at the offensive feature.

“It’s just dust.”

“Dust doesn’t rise for no reason. There should at least be a wind.” Which there wasn’t.

“Wait here,” Madd said. Within minutes he had returned to the ruins and used the last red light of day to scale the highest remnant of what once had been a lofty dome. He returned even faster, running and jumping. “An army,” he gasped. “I would guess the Salid’s.”

The Salid’s or that of some other tyrant, the only reason for an army to be in the Bone Barrens was to attack Gurgh. The city most likely had little idea of its approach. Vorgell had little faith in the vigilance of its overfed protectors. His first thought was to thank the Father of Wolves that Madd was here with him, and not in the city. If that had been the case, he would have taken on the Salid’s army all by himself.

“Perhaps we can still warn them,” he said.

Madd grabbed hold of one of his weapon belts and tugged. The axe strapped to Vorgell’s back bumped hard on his shoulder, disturbing Petal and causing her to rearrange her long body. “Stop. Think. We’re missing something.”

Vorgell held up the staff. “This. The man was procuring this in advance of the army. Why? So the Salid could use it?”

“Or so Gurgh could not. Grobba warned us not to let the Salid destroy it.”

That made as much sense. More sense, really. What had Madd said, about priestesses holding up the staff and calling on the protectors of Gurgh?

“Tell me that legend again. About the staff and protectors.”

Madd breathed hard, excitement building in his voice. “There are these protectors from ancient times. In the wilderness, surrounding the city. People who go to see them say they’re just stone. Rings of standing stones.”

“The protectors are stone. Stone men.” Blood rushed through Vorgell’s limbs, a familiar call to arms and battle.

“Don’t be an oaf”—Madd yanked on the belt still in his hand until Vorgell looked down at him—“they’re just rocks! Ancient people did shit like that.”

“Much is forgotten in this world. But the priestesses remember. The Sun God gave Gurgh a gift, and a weapon against its enemies.”

“Oh, for the love of the Moon!”

“Come, my friend! We shall seek out these stones!” Vorgell paused. “Do you know where they are?”

Madd released his hold and threw out his hands. “You think I know these things? You know as much as I do. We’ve been on the city walls. We’ve seen them just… out there. We passed a group of the stones on our way out of the city last time we left—”

Vorgell remembered the place. He and Madd had enjoyed a quick rub and suck to ease Vorgell’s erection and provide a bit of extra magic for concealment during their escape.

“Then we will go there first. It is prudent in any event that we try to reach the city.”

With a shake of his head, Madd handed Vorgell the reins of the largest and sturdiest horse, a sorrel with white feet. It had no saddle and had probably been used to carry the gold. “You do realize we’ll be traveling in the dark.”

“You can work magic to light our way. Do that thing you do with moonlight.”

“I suppose I could.” Madd didn’t look happy about it. “But it won’t be more than a shimmer along the edge of the road. The moon’s nearly gone at this time of month.”

“We don’t need much. I have always had the eyesight of a wolf.”

“Well, I hope you have the ears of one, too, so no one can sneak up on us and slit our throats.” Madd hauled himself onto Grobba’s horse. Vorgell wondered if he distrusted the Anssif’s beast. Madd’s distrusts were legion.

“I fear not for our safety.” The big sorrel grunted when Vorgell jumped and settled onto its broad back. He urged it forward, hoping the creature did not find him too heavy. “We go to a great city, my friend,” he told the horse, “where I will sell you to someone much smaller than I.”

That seemed to placate the beast and as it followed Madd and the other horse to the road, it did so in good spirit.

MADD’S moon magic lent itself to gentle but useful spells. The road before them appeared to be limned with delicate pale light that attached itself to foot traces of previous travelers, including no doubt the hapless Grobba’s horse. It was just enough illumination for them to follow the way. They encountered trouble only once and were fortunate to be warned by their horses. It didn’t surprise them when their attackers proved to be dry, lean men wearing the spiral ensign of Anssif.

Though Vorgell had lost his best sword to the stone man, he carried many weapons and dispatched three of the four men quickly before Petal could writhe her way out of the hood at his back. He had just freed his ax from the neck of the third when he saw Madd skewer the fourth man neatly. Petal clicked disgruntlement at not having been needed, but his heart swelled with pride. Madd had completely lacked skill with blades when they’d first met. Now the young witchkin defended himself as fiercely as any seasoned sellsword. They retrieved their horses and went on.

They had not gone far when Madd reined to a halt.

“Stop. Vorgell, look.”

A solitary shape stood in the center of the road. The limning light of Madd’s spell traced the stone shape of a man.

“Sun magic.” Madd rode closer and peered at the unmoving stone man they had last seen walking toward Gurgh. “Once the sun set, it ceased to move.”

How curious. Vorgell laid his hand upon a still warm arm. “Will it resume walking when the sun rises?”

“I don’t know.”

“Perhaps if I touch it again with the Sun Staff—”

“Will you just listen to me for once? What the hells do we know about any of this? We can’t just assume anything the Sun Staff touches will be a protector of Gurgh. This thing’s more likely to fight on the side of the Salid.”

Vorgell reached down and tried to tug his sword from the stone man’s grip. “If that is to be the case, I really could use my sword back.” It was made of Asengi steel shaped by a swordcaster in the floating city of Gul and he had killed more foes with it than any other he had ever owned. He’d even named it Foeslayer.

“Vorgell, we don’t have the time. We need to reach Gurgh before the Salid’s army comes.” The faint glow from the statue skimmed Madd’s face, revealing wide bright eyes set beneath perfect dark brows. He wore a look that made Vorgell want to pull him close and promise him the world. But he still wanted his sword.

Wedging the pole of his ax between the stone man’s hand and its body, Vorgell gave a sharp wrench that succeeded in breaking the hand free and the sword with it.  Satisfied, he picked it up and returned both weapons to the places on his belt. “Let’s go,” he said.

By the time they reached the stone circle they’d passed so many months ago, the night had grown cold and late. The circle of stone was empty but showed signs of past camp fires. It was not uncommon for travelers to spend the night in the shadow of Gurgh’s famed stones and their ancient promise.