Self-Made Scoundrel (21 page)

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Authors: Tristan J. Tarwater

BOOK: Self-Made Scoundrel
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Devra reached out an ungloved hand and pulled back, the tattoo on her hand seeming to animate. The Freeman who was running stopped suddenly, its head snapping back unnaturally with a crack before it fell to the ground. Derk rushed the other two, parrying a swing with his shortsword before he pulled his dagger out and drove it into the belly of the one of the Freemen. A backhanded slice sent the other to the floor with a clatter that seemed too loud. Derk panted as he looked to Devra, her eyes wide. “We need to move.”

The pair of them rushed back to the others. The questions on their faces would have to be answered later. “We must be quick,” Derk said. “They might know we are here.” The five passed through the room, taking the tunnel the other Freemen had tried to escape through. Derk couldn’t help but look at the one Devra had dispatched. The dead Freeman’s neck was split open. In the faint torchlight he saw the splintered bone gleaming red with blood. It was grisly. He shivered as he thought of Devra. So that’s why she hadn’t done anything in the bar that evening.

Derk slid down the hall, the adrenaline from his previous kill making his skin hot. He listened, emboldened, dashing silently ahead. The mushroom glow was stronger here. Derk stopped before he reached the end, trying to make out the bit of the room he could see. No one was in this cavern and the only other exit went to the east. He wondered if it would spill into another chamber and how long the system went. Derk held up his hand and listened, hearing nothing in this chamber and stepping out cautiously.

Derk wondered what had carved the system. The ceiling of this section was also covered in glowing mushrooms and he was astounded at the amount of light they gave off. He tried to recall what Jezlen had said about the Freemen and knew eventually they would come across the center of their home. They didn’t dig out the caverns. The Freemen weren’t known for ingenuity or building. Why were those three Freemen in that part of the cave and how soon would they come across the rest of the assembly? What did they live on, deep in the earth? Grimly, Derk thought they would never find out the answer. He doubted the Freemen would be willing to provide the information.

Another stretch of stone, void of life save the mushrooms. As the five companions walked through the caverns they would occasionally hear something, a scrambling, chittering. When Derk looked behind him he could see Jezlen walking backwards, watching their rear. Asa’s face looked as dark as it could possibly look, determined to protect them all. But nothing showed its face. Derk tried to keep a map of the caves in his head, trying to recall their path. One section was much like another. Some rooms has spots on the wall obviously meant to hold torches but they passed through no other torch lit rooms.

After several chambers with no one in them, Derk was starting to feel nervous. Where was everyone? Could Jezlen have been wrong? Perhaps the three they had killed were all the Freemen there were? Still, there was the chittering they occasionally heard. What did it mean? Perhaps their own nervousness was making their venture more serious than it had to be. Derk came to the end of a tunnel and peeked ahead.

Derk felt his heart leap into his throat. There it was. In an enclave cluttered with various objects, a wooden box marked with holy symbols and script lay off to one side. It had to be it. What else could it be? Derk wanted to thank the Goddess out loud but stuffed his joy inside of him. After the trouble with the Temple of the Ever Burning Sun and the dead dissenters, the Chalice was within their grasp. Would it be so easy? Derk hoped it would be, for their sake.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Malfunctions and Mysteries

Derk looked over the scene once more, counting the steps to the chalice, the objects in the way, the layout of the room before he turned back to Devra.

“It’s here,” he whispered. He said it so quietly even he could barely hear it. Devra’s eyes went wide and then a hopeful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She turned around and relayed Derk’s message back. Derk listened carefully, over the beating of his heart, making sure he wasn’t ignoring some key sign of life in his excitement. Everything was quiet. And the chalice was there.

“I’m going to sneak up and get it,” he whispered. “Is there anything you can do…to help? Just in case?” Derk looked to Devra hopefully. She just pressed her lips together and shook her head. He tried not to sigh as he nodded as well. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face before he took a deep breath and took a step forward.

Derk felt as if he were naked in the room. It was bigger than the others and had more tunnels leading off of it. Derk held his breath as he crept quickly past the first entrance. He stepped quietly, with the tiptoes of his feet past the second one, keeping his head away from the entrance. Derk was glad to be unencumbered by bulky armor or metal chains that could clink or rattle.

He exhaled and took a breath in. Quiet. Wait. Listen. Step. Step. Look back. See Devra’s green eyes, still green in the dim light. Everything appeared the same in the dark. Step. Step. He reached out with his hands and placed them on the box. He felt the grain of the wood and the rough edges beneath his fingertips, the smoothness of the paint where someone had written on it. It was in his hands.

A sound made him turn his head to look over his shoulder. It was so quiet, he almost thought he didn’t hear it. But after the sound he heard Asa swear. Derk picked up the box and put his back to a wall, looking to Devra. She was backing away from the rest of the party, obviously staring at something down the hallway. Derk felt his heart thump in his chest and somehow over the thumping he was able to make out the sound of something coming down the hall closest to him. They were coming.

Derk set the box down and pulled out his sword as quietly as he could, so as not to give away his position. Now Sindra was in the room and Asa yelled. Derk heard Jezlen cursing at Asa. And then a head came around the corner.

In the low light he couldn’t make out the color of the Freeman’s skin or the true color of its eyes. But the faint blue-green glow of the mushrooms made the terrible form even eerier. Derk inhaled and as he exhaled, struck at the head, jerking his sword free and readying his blade again. Devra stared down the hallway and her eyes went wide, taking on the same glow of the mushrooms. She put a hand up as if to gesture to someone to stop but then she jerked her hand back, fingers bent in a strange fashion. He heard meat tearing. It made Derk cringe. Then the chittering started.

Sindra careened around the corner, running. Derk picked up the box and saw Asa and then Jezlen back out of the hallway, Jezlen placidly firing off a shot while Asa stepped back. His hand was on his bicep, blood trickling down his fingers. Derk noticed the strange color the fungal light gave Asa’s blood. Derk picked up the box and locked eyes with Sindra, deciding now wasn’t the time for whispers. “SINDRA!” he shouted, tossing the box in her direction.

He didn’t bother waiting to see if she caught it. Derk didn’t hear the sound of wood breaking on a stone ground so he assumed she did. What he did hear was the strange chittering and keening of the Freemen. He ran to the other tunnel and looked to Devra. “A light?”

Devra picked up something from the ground, a rusted sword. As she held it, light from the mushrooms started to drift to it, collecting on the surface till it shone brightly, enough to cast light a few throws ahead. She ran to Derk’s side, Sindra behind her.

“More are coming,” Jezlen said, cocking an arrow.

“Can we go back the way we came?” Derk asked. He heard his own panic in his voice and the torch Devra had made glowed brighter.

“They are probably coming around to trap us,” Jezlen said. He looked behind him and shot into the dark, a screech sending a shiver down Derk’s spine.

“Tits, this way!” No sounds came from down the hall so Derk charged, sword drawn. He slowed as he reached each adjoining corridor, trying to keep track of where they were in relation to the exit. The chittering continued, louder behind them and to the sides. As they came to one entrance glowing eyes stared at them. Devra pointed the torch at the Freemen and said something Derk couldn’t quite make out. Blue-green lights shot off of the torch. More screams. It smelled like cooking meat.

“I really wish at least
one
of them Zealots had survived
their
attack,” Derk shouted as he ran down the corridor, the magical light illuminating the stone walls before him. “I’d really like to throttle one of them right now for getting us into this damned mess.” There was no point in being quiet anymore. He wondered if Gam would wonder what had happened to him, if they would ever find their remains. And Sindra…he had just gotten involved with her. Was it to end here? Murdered by beasts underground? Derk wanted to live. He wanted to drink beer and make love and take things and see the light of the moon. He wanted to pray and beat a man and feel the warmth of a fire. These Freemen might take it all away from him. From all of them.

The sound of four other sets of feet running as quickly as they could still didn’t manage to drown out the high pitched war cries of their pursuers. Their shrill, manic sound made the hairs on the back of Derk’s neck stand on end. The distinct voice of Devra yelped in fear and the light on the walls glowed brighter as the Wielder ran faster. There was a whizzing sound and then a screech as an arrow cut through the air and into the bodies of one of their assailants. Derk felt relief, and then panic washed over him as the corridor ended, letting them into a large, rectangular chamber. A large, stone door blocked their way.

They were trapped.

The other four party members spilled into the room, Jezlen crouching down notching off another arrow into the black. Another shriek signaling the projectile had hit its mark. “Quickly!” Derk shouted. He pointed to them. “Barricade the corridor the best you can.” Sindra and Asa started to drag a stone bench to the entrance, Sindra running off to push a table. Jezlen let another arrow loose. It bought Asa and Sindra time to move another bench into place. Derk stared at the wall before him. “Asa? You went to school for this, right?”

“Jez and I’ll take the front and whoever hops over. Sindra, stay off to the side and guard the chalice. Devra, get as much room as you need and stay by Derk while he gets us out of here.” Asa unsheathed his longsword, finally having the room to pull the long blade out of its scabbard. “You will be getting us out of here, right?”

“As long as there is a way to get us out of here.” Derk looked at the large stone door, twitching visibly as a strange, reptilian howl rippled through the air. “I’m hoping there’s a way to get us out of here.”

“Things are going to die,” came the overly calm words of Jezlen. His eyes showed no mirth and not a single, black hair was out of place on that cool head of his. He could be singing a dirge for all Derk presently cared, as long as he kept the arrows flying toward whatever bizarre creatures were attacking them. The thief turned his attention to the door, hoping to get a good idea of how it worked before the din and energy of battle made it harder to concentrate.

Derk placed his hands on the door. It was a single, carved stone, without any sort of decoration and without any handles. There was no sign of hinges, and the edges of the door were flush with the walls, meaning it wouldn’t swing. He looked up, noting a small gap in the ceiling above the door. It went up. That meant there should be a switch somewhere.

“Devra, check the wall over there, see if you can find something, a nook or an opening of some sort. Unless you think you can just blast a hole in the door?” Devra just grimaced. “Well, please, just find something.” It couldn’t be harder than casting a spell, could it?

Asa didn’t want her at the front of the fray. And Derk didn’t want to consider what would happen to one of them if they got caught in the path of one of her wieldings. He told himself he would be able to jump out of the way in time. He was quick.

Derk tapped on the wall quickly with the hilt of his shortsword, listening for the sound indicating a hollow space behind the stone. The bizarre reptilian howl sounded again, closer this time. The tapping of clawed toenails on stone grew louder and more rapid. Jezlen let one arrow and then another fly and the hiss of his quiet words told Derk something bad was about to happen. A quick yelp from Devra grabbed his attention. He raced along the wall to where she was standing, her quarter staff leaning against the wall perpendicular to it.

“Paps, I ain’t never seen nothing like it!” shouted Asa, his eyes finally seeing what the elf saw, his voice sounding slightly less sure than it usually did. Devra looked over her shoulder, eyes wide, so distracted Derk had to shake her to get her to focus.

“Which stone is it?” he asked, finally getting the girl’s attention. She pointed to the rock and then picked up her quarterstaff, pulling off one glove and then the other before she held the wooden implement over her head.

Derk took a deep breath, trying to push the fact out of his head there were horrible creatures the likes of which he had only heard about from half-crazed drunks heading down the corridor. The stone was before him and it must be moved. He had to help his friends. And Jezlen. They were protecting him. He pulled out his lucky dagger and kissed its hilt before jamming it between a small space between the rocks, using the tips of his valuable fingers to pry the stone out.

He was annoyed to see there wasn’t a switch behind the stone. He heard the sound of a creature scrambling over the makeshift barricade. Luckily it was quieted by a few curses and the melody of a skilled hand slicing into enemy flesh. The twang of a long bow punctuated the story of a dead monster. Derk snapped his fingers at Devra, trying to keep her attention. The girl managing to rip her wide gaze away from the scene and looked to Derk. “The light!” he shouted, pointing into the open space.

Devra’s tattooed hands fumbled in a pouch at her waist. With a few words a small stone began to emit a cold, white light suitable for inspecting the hole. “Take care,” he said, nodding to her. He looked to Asa and Jezlen, attacking whatever was trying to rush over the barricade. Derk looked to Sindra. She stood in front of the box holding the chalice, a long, thin knife in her hand. Even when nervous she was beautiful, he thought, taking another deep breath before inspecting the hole.

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