The Undying God (9 page)

Hrioshango slinked through the
wilderness, casting furtive glances at the Nightwalker. He could
not bear the thought that this human had caught him in the midst of
his seductive ploy.

In his mind, he had done nothing wrong;
he was only improving his chances that this woman would fall in
love with him. It was no use trying to explain this, he realized.
For this, his resentment toward the man was steadily growing.
Furthermore, he suspected this man’s power rivaled his.

The stillness of the forest was eerie
and foreboding. Had they not known igliuhs dwelt there, they would
have assumed it was uninhabited. Spindly fir trees towered far
above them, their drooping limbs barbed with needles.

The grove expanded, revealing hundreds
of trees decimated beyond the shadowy horizon. The chilling
spectacle extended for a distance, appearing pallid gray in the
night. The surreal sight taunted Nishka, as though something
nefarious was concealed just beyond the line of her sight. A veil
of ashes coated the wasteland, shifting like snow in the quiet
breeze.

It was strangely peaceful, a land of
glistening dust dancing in flowing zephyrs. Nishka gasped as ashes
fell from a collapsed tree, like a heavenly rain that pierced the
mist. She lifted her face as ashes alighted on her skin, tickling
her eyelashes. The canopy faded into view like an intricate spider
web of bare branches, stealing Nishka’s breath away.

Gradually, the ground softened, and
they could see trees rear over the horizon. Arxu slowed in his
steps, the pine needles snapping beneath his feet. Through the mist
he recognized the signs of a bonfire. Plumes of smoke stretched
lazily into the sky like a tempest gathering before
disaster.

He abandoned the trail and drifted
among the trees that jutted from the earth like ancient obelisks.
Nothing dared move in the dark, but he could hear sounds in the
distance, low voices murmuring in the shadows, speaking in a
language Arxu could not comprehend.

The igliuhs communicated only several
primitive ideas, none of which were pleasant. At last, they
returned to the site of attack and hid behind the trees. There were
more igliuhs, and they were fighting over the weapons. The igliuhs
had formed a campsite around the scavenged cart. A massive bonfire
crackled in the midst of the camp, and the donkey that had escaped
was being roasted over the flames.

Armor and weapons were strewn across
the campsite. Igliuhs walked among the debris, protectively
wandering near their spoils. Two igliuhs roughly tugged on a
breastplate, neither one surrendering the prize. Nishka looked on
with fury.

Arxu almost feared she would rise from
hiding. He looked into her eyes and Nishka nodded, assuring him she
would not intervene.

Satisfied, Arxu stood up straight and
moved beyond the shrubs. He walked toward the bonfire like a moth
attracted to flame—just before it is snuffed in the blink of an
eye. Hrioshango walked beside him with incredible calmness in the
face of death. The igliuhs stopped and spun toward the intruders.
Their hands reached for weapons. One of them wore a wild dog skin
around his waist with the grisly head still attached. A helmet made
of sundried skull contoured around his head.

He reached for an iron sword dangling
from a weapon rack, glimmering with rust. Arxu suspected that it
was the warlord of the clan. Some of the igliuhs were larger than
most men he had ever seen. Their yellowed teeth glistened
voraciously as their lips peeled back in feral snarls.

The degenerate humanoids tensed,
leering and clenching their fingers. Perhaps they imagined rending
the intruders limb from limb. It was impossible to discern the
atrocities going through their minds. A savage frenzy possessed the
igliuhs.

Arxu’s hand darted for two slender
objects at his waist, drawing two gem rods from a quiver. He began
to speak words in a tongue that Nishka couldn’t understand. A deep
ambience pervaded the atmosphere and energy swelled around him. A
sizzling bolt of lightning burst forth. The bolt lanced across
several igliuhs and a stray fork snapped across the campfire,
sending a shower of embers. Enraged igliuhs scattered at the
violent display.

Nishka feared the emotionless
Nightwalker would inadvertently set the forest on fire. Frenzied
igliuhs massed at the opposite end of the camp, rushing for a
charge to overtake the intruders.

Arxu reached into his satchel
presumably for spell components. One of the igliuhs pointed its
sword at the Nightwalker and shouted something. The igliuhs erupted
forth.

Arxu didn’t even blink as he retrieved
a red garnet from his inventory. He slipped the stone under his
tongue and faced his opponents. Tongues of fire departed from his
lips, billowing in great plumes across the igliuhs. His flaming
breath drove back the igliuhs that were not maddened enough to
continue their bloodthirsty assault.

He quickly launched into the next phase
of his defensive strategy. The ring on Arxu’s left hand pulsed with
blue light. He outstretched his hand toward a boulder across the
encampment and curled it into a fist. The rock levitated above the
ground, corresponding to his motions as though he grasped it in his
hand. He swung his arm to his left and the boulder slammed into a
cluster of igliuhs. The large rock continued to roll across the
camp, forging a path of devastation.

Nishka watched with amazement as
Hrioshango drew a long sword from a dagger sheath that could not
physically contain the object. The bizarre creature swung his blade
at an oncoming assailant and cut its legs. The difference in height
seemed to have little bearing on the dexterous chaos magician. He
agilely dodged attacks and retaliated with fluid movement. The
igliuhs’ attacks were so focused on force that he scarcely needed
to parry, only evade their strikes.

Arxu skillfully eluded their blows with
cunning dodges and twists, whipping his staff across and thrusting
its tip toward any foe that came too close.

Suddenly, a foot slammed into Arxu’s
gut and propelled him off the ground. The igliuh warlord kicked
Arxu and he fell toward the bonfire. He rolled across the ground
and stopped short of the flames, though he could feel the intense
heat singing his cloak. He sprang to his feet and faced the
warlord. It was much larger than the other igliuhs, at least seven
feet tall.

Arxu feinted high with the staff and
kicked embers at the warlord, trying to blind the creature. He was
not expecting the igliuh to dodge as fast it did. In fact, he was
hardly prepared for the monster’s immediate retaliation.

Across the campsite, Hrioshango fended
off two igliuhs simultaneously. He parried an obscenely large blade
and darted back to avoid the other enemy attack. He reveled in the
chaos of battle, the rush of avoiding death by a split second.
Perhaps even more invigorating was the act of taking a
life.

Unfortunately for him, the igliuhs felt
precisely the same way. Hrioshango’s blade swerved back and forth
like a retractable fang, retreating into a parry and lunging out
with surgical precision. He defeated an enemy attack with a
conniving swing and jabbed the igliuh twice in the
abdomen.

The creature howled in fury and chopped
at the darkling. Hrioshango swiftly stepped aside and stabbed the
monster’s arm. The second igliuh was not far away, bearing down on
Hrioshango from another angle. A flurry of blades ensued, three
humanoids trying desperately to emerge alive from the fray.
Hrioshango’s blade could be seen slapping at the larger, black
swords, his weapon all but flimsy compared to the
opposition.

His sword worked furiously to defend
against the igliuhs, almost losing his arm in the process. He cried
out enthusiastically and plunged his blade into an igliuh’s chest.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t pull it out.

The igliuh screamed in rage and swung
its sword. The second monster died as the blade crushed its skull.
Hrioshango watched helplessly as the enraged creature picked up the
warrior’s sword, now wielding two large blades while a third
remained jutting from its chest.

It turned furiously on the
darkling.

“Wonderful,” Hrioshango sarcastically
said.

* * *

The grotesque warlord circled around
the bonfire, closing in on Arxu. Its eyes gleamed dangerously in
the firelight, black holes reminiscent of the darkest new
moon.

Its left hand remained clutching an
ebony blade, a deadly instrument easily twice the length of Arxu’s
arm. With a spasm, its right claw outstretched, its protruding
nails poised for assault. The igliuh preferred to soften its prey
before devouring it. By the looks of the man, he would prove a
succulent meal.

Its sword lashed out, hooking around
Arxu’s left toward his head. He narrowly brought his staff across
in a double-handed grip. He fiercely kicked the hominid in its
abdomen. The igliuh reacted by nearly tearing off Arxu’s head. He
evaded the sword just in time and retreated gracefully. Nothing
short of a blade would damage the hulking mass of
muscle.

Arxu worked his hands as fast as
possible, parrying a blow, inverting his staff into a jab,
thrusting into its belly, and kicking it in the side. The human
seemed to amuse the volatile igliuh. It seized Arxu by the arm
before he could evade and lifted its sword to amputate the limb. A
blade sheared through the igliuh, nearly impaling Arxu in the
process.

Hrioshango was slightly disappointed.
He had intended to impale Arxu, too. The warlord roared in anger
and kicked Arxu, sending him sprawling. It spun on the darkling and
snapped its blade across in violent hysteria. Hrioshango agilely
skittered aside with a devious smile.

An opponent worthy of his skills was
rare indeed. He would savor this battle of egos. He tagged the
igliuh with his blade, cutting across its leg. Back and forth the
chaos magician mocked the brute, taunting its rage.

Hrioshango immediately realized he had
underestimated his opponent. He could not possibly block its
strikes; the force alone would break his arms and possibly shatter
his blade.

Arxu sprang back to his feet and joined
the fray. He raised his staff over his head and—something closed
around his throat. The igliuh seized Arxu’s neck with a single hand
and cast him at the fire. He landed on his back, stray embers
flickering near his blue hair, devouring it. He cried out in pain
as the igliuh’s form plunged on top of his, its knee digging into
his abdomen. It straddled Arxu, pinning him beneath three hundred
pounds of muscle.

The warlord lifted its arms and swung
its blade at the prone man. Arxu swept his staff across, robbing
the igliuh of two fingers. Undeterred, it wielded the sword in its
right hand and swerved toward Arxu’s neck.

Arxu bucked his hips below the igliuh,
throwing it off balance. Arxu’s knee jerked into its groin and it
lurched forward. Quick to act, he tucked his legs and lifted the
large igliuh, almost snapping his spine. Arxu cried out against the
agony and kicked the igliuh into the fire.

Panting for breath, he scrambled away
and brushed the embers out of his hair. He wiped the soot from his
pants and recuperated from the brush with death.

A flaming figure burst from the bonfire
with outstretched arms, screaming incoherently. Arxu realized a red
hot blade had embedded in the igliuh’s melting flesh, melding with
its right forearm. The warlord threateningly raised its limb, the
curved steel protruding like a claw.

Molten liquid dripped from the
six-foot-long blade, sizzling as it spattered on the earth. The
abomination strode forward, the absence of flesh on its jaws
displaying even more of its clenched teeth.

“A friend of yours?” Hrioshango
smiled.

“Hardly,” Arxu quipped.

“Look at the way he’s smiling. He wants
to hug you.” Indeed, the creature’s broad expression looked like a
demented grin.

“I would much rather kill
it.”

“Women must find your lack of
compassion irresistible.”

The smell of charring igliuh made Arxu
physically sick. It lunged forth and flailed a blade protruding
from bone. Arxu floundered backward, narrowly escaping the deadly
extension of its limb.

He could not call upon his magick to
defend himself, having expended his arcane powers during the
initial attack.

Arxu feinted to the right and again to
the left, lunging forward with a high strike. He barely ducked
under the blade as it glanced off his staff. He thrust the blunt
end into its stomach, temporarily knocking the igliuh back. The
aggressor didn’t relent to the blow, sweeping Arxu off his feet
with its arm. He jerked as the blade slammed into the ground
between his legs, narrowly missing its target.

He groped for something to hold onto as
he scrambled to his feet. He chaotically darted across the campsite
as though inebriated. In truth, the pain in his arms and legs made
it difficult to run. He did not want to look down and see the
wounds that undeniably marred his limbs.

The igliuh bared a repulsive mouth of
fangs and charged. Arxu tried to evade but suddenly the world had
turned upside down and he landed roughly on his back. He reached
for his staff as something crushed his hand. The igliuh warlord
breathed heavily and leveled the red hot blade with Arxu’s throat,
ready to impale him. He thrashed under the igliuh’s weight and his
free hand plunged into the satchel at his waist. Perhaps there was
something left, a magickal component he hadn’t used.