Duel At Grimwood Creek (Book 2) Page 13

  Landed behind him, eyes gleaming as she stared at the irresistible target of his back.

  She spun the blade into a reverse grip.

  Pounced like a cat, slamming hard against his spine. One fist grabbed hold of a length of chain. The other stabbed. The wicked tip of the blade barely noticed flesh. Glided between ribs as though through clay before bouncing off a bunched mass of chain buried hard against his spine.

  Roaring, the hulking mass flailed in frustration. The chains whipped madly, sending her sprawling as she was thrown aside before she could strike again.

  She landed hard. Rolled desperately along the broken stones. Felt her shoulder grind in its socket as she hit a chunk of rock. Looked up sharply, already trying to twist herself away as chains slashed into the ground where she’d been only a second before. Stone tore and dust exploded, choking her lungs.

  “Fuck,” she growled, skipping unsteadily away. Her shoulder hurt and her arm hung limp at her side.

  “You hurt me, little elf.” The creature hefted a fistful of chains. Links rasped against each other in a way that made her shudder.

  Her eyes caught a foetid yellow glow from the tunnel. The smell was suddenly intense. A river of energy carrying a raw and bitter stench. She edged away from the creature, unable to decide what scared her most. His intent on tearing her to pieces with his chains. Or the magic Chukshene was about to unleash.

  “Hurt you?” she rubbed her shoulder, feeling the tingle of nerves. “You ain’t felt nothing yet.”

  He paused.

  Then spun toward where Chukshene emerged, surrounded in a sickly nimbus of light. The spellslinger snapped one last word of power and a terrible roar of magic erupted from the tunnel. Swirled around him like a tornado before channelling into the astounded creature on a thick beam of ghostly light. A beam which looked to be made of demonic clawed hands. Each ethereal hand slid through skin and into the creature’s chest with incredible force, tossing him backward like a ragdoll.

  He landed on his back, sliding along the uneven ground before jarring to a halt against one of the pillars with a sickening crunch.

  Where he lay, curled in a ball of crackling energy.

  Dust sparkled as it floated down to settle on the chains draping the creature’s unmoving form.

  The warlock blinked, limping into the chamber. “Did I kill him?”

  Opening her mouth to answer, the elf’s words were cut off by a jagged sound emanating from the creature’s hunched body and, with a shiver, the elf recognised the sound.

  He was laughing.

  “Oh, shit.” The warlock rushed forward to help her to her feet.

  Her eyes watered as the overwhelming stink of magic soured the air around her. Pushing him away, she staggered toward the creature slowly uncoiling unsteadily to his knees.

  By the time she reached him, her gait was steady and sure. She took hold of the jutting handle of A Flaw in the Glass still buried in his belly. Jerked it free with a spiteful grunt. His massive head lolled awkwardly, though he kept laughing wetly as she rammed the blade into his chest. A clinically impassive strike.

  Again.

  And again.

  The blade flared hatefully with each stab. Green blood gushed down his chest. But the creature only laughed harder. “The master made me strong, little elf. And I will return him.”

  “Chukshene!” She shot a desperate glance at the warlock. “Do something. Now.”

  He trembled, holding out the grimoire uselessly. “Do what? Nysta, that was the most fucking powerful shit I had. It was made to kill frost giants. Fucking frost giants! If that won’t kill him, then I don’t know what will!”

  The flame inside her guts flickered as she backed away from the creature.

  He climbed slowly to his feet. Swayed gently, chains clinking cruelly behind his back. Slowly, turned his head toward her. Cold eyes burning. “Little elf,” he said. “Your Mistress was ever weak. Her weakness drove her into the arms of the invaders. Shall you inherit her weakness, and doom us all? Aid me. And I will return my master. Endless reward awaits those who serve him. Eternal suffering for those who defy. Submit, little elf. Submit, and we shall drive those upstart gods back to the world from which they came!”

  “Nysta?” Chukshene called nervously. “Why are you so popular?”

  “Fucked if I know, ‘lock.” She rolled her shoulder, flexing the aching muscle. “Could be they’ve all got an idea what role they want me to play. But my method ain’t an act. Means they picked me for the wrong type. Reckon the best thing for all of us right now is to get out of these parts.”

  The creature took a lumbering step toward her, thrust his head forward and growled; “Submit, little elf! Do not resist again. I do not wish to fight you.”

  “Could be your lucky day, then,” she said through her teeth. “On account of I ain’t keen on fighting you, either. But I will if I have to. Kill you, too. May take a bit of time to figure out how you die, but you’ll die. See, I ain’t got time to piss about with your insanity. I want blood, you oversized piece of shit. But not yours. I want a feller named Raste. So here’s my offer. Move aside. Let me pass. And before you do anything else, you should know another feller just like you tried to stop me not long ago. And he was powerful, too. Name of Gaket. Heard of him? You look the type to hang out in the same bars. Tried to recruit me to some bullshit of his own. But I told him to stick it up his ass. Just like I’m telling you. Now, he was stupid. Didn’t look too stupid, but he was. Because he wouldn’t get out of my way. And now? Now he’s dead. And that’s all you need to know about him. So all you should be thinking right now is how intelligent do you want to be? Stupid dead like Gaket? Or alive and smart? Those arms of yours. They’re big. And those chains scare the shit out of me. But I’m pissed. Very pissed. Means I’m more dangerous than anything you’ve ever seen. So pick up your fucking chains. Go on. Pick them up. And get the fuck out of my way.”

  He trembled with every word she spat at him. But not with fear. Rage bubbled in his eyes and hatred made the chains twitch. “I have heard of Gaket,” he said. “The very ground screamed his name not two nights past. I followed. And I found him. His body damaged too much to suit my purpose. It disappointed me, little elf. I would have liked to have him on my wall. I would have liked to peel the skin from him, the creation of cursed Veil. But it was not to be. Now you dare to threaten me as though I am weak like that abomination? My master made me strong! He gave me these chains. Bound them to my bones. You are afraid of them? Good. You should be.”

  “Chukshene?”

  “Yeah?”

  She spat to the stones, tasting blood. “Shoot him.”

  “Huh? What with?”

  “I don’t reckon I give a shit,” she said. “Just keep shooting until he stops moving.”

  “Why do you fight?” the creature roared. “Let fear drive you to your knees. Submit!”

  She felt light. A thrilling sensation shot through her shoulder and she no longer felt pain knotting the muscle. The ball of ice inside cracked.

  Split.

  And exploded into flame as rage burst into every fibre of her being.

  “Don’t act so surprised.” She let the crooked grin twist the vivid scar on her cheek. “Submitting really ain’t my scene.”

  The creature reared. Seized a fistful of his chains and sent them lashing toward her.

  Forced to dive sideways to avoid them, she snarled as acrid magic filled her lungs. Could hear Chukshene chanting behind her. Swept under more chains swooping over her head like a knot of winged snakes. Grunted a curse.

  And sprang at the creature. Twisting in the air to avoid his arms, her foot thudded hard into his belly and she used the leverage to kick herself higher. A Flaw in the Glass slashed across his face. Left a thick green streak from his ear to his mouth as she
spun herself over his massive shoulder.

  Snatching at writhing lengths of chain, the elf hung once more from his back and jammed A Flaw in the Glass hard into his shoulder blade for more stability.

  And realised she wasn’t sure what to do next.

  A heavy pulse chewed through the chamber and she glimpsed the warlock as he released energy from his hand. The green ball of light smashed into the thrashing creature, burying itself into his slack belly. And exploded inside, lighting up his flesh with sickly incandescence.

  The shriek from the creature made her wince and left her ears ringing.

  She shifted her weight, trying to grab one of the slimmer chains. It darted away as though sensing her intention. The elf’s eyes narrowed.

  Another bolt of energy fizzed through the air and splashed into the creature’s chest. This time he swung himself around, nearly throwing off the struggling elf before lowering his massive head and charging the startled warlock.

  Chukshene turned and ran with a frantic squeal.

  Each step jostled the elf more, and her hand almost lost its grip of A Flaw in the Glass. “Stop running!” she shouted. “Chukshene! Stop fucking running away!”

  Heard the warlock call back; “Yeah? Fuck that!”

  She rolled her eyes. Bounced against the creature’s back. Dug her heels into the meat above his hip and tried again to grab the slimmer chain. This time managed to wrap her hands around it. Looked up at the back of the creature’s head and the grin which spread across her face was hard in its cruelty.

  “If it breathes,” she murmured. “You can kill it.”

  And, with heart beating savagely in her chest, she lunged.

  Felt A Flaw in the Glass slide about half an inch further down the creature’s back as it took all her weight. Only the chains which coiled tightly around the hulking creature’s bones under his flesh prevented the enchanted blade from cutting any deeper. But the sudden rush of fresh blood made her hand slip.

  Feeling the kick of desperation in her guts, the elf’s arm was a blur, sending the slim length of chain looping over its head just as her hand slid off the hilt. Grimly, she dropped hard, frantically grabbing hold of the chain with two hands.

  The creature took two more steps before the chain snapped tight around his throat.

  Using her legs, she wrapped herself around the mess of chains hanging from his back, pulled hard, and held tight. Closed her eyes and waited.

  The creature paused.

  His fingers fumbled at the chain tugging tight around its throat, cutting off his airway.

  But those fingers were too thick to get a good grip on the chain cutting deep into his bulging neck. He spun around, slapping at his back, trying to reach the elf. She felt a rush of air as the enormous hands came increasingly close to flattening her like a bug.

  Choking, he gave a frenzied shake, desperate to dislodge her.

  And the creature could only let out a shallow gasp of pain as the warlock spun on his heels to deliver another burst of energy into his guts.

  Confused and struggling to breathe, the hulking mass stumbled sideways and fell to his knees.

  Sensing the sharp breath of death encircling the creature’s trembling body, she pulled harder. Felt his tortured ribcage heave against her.

  Felt the muscles in her arms scream in protest as she hauled on the chain with every ounce of strength she possessed. And demanded more. More power from arms already at breaking point.

  Then the creature slumped. Just seemed to give in.

  And began falling back.

  Realising she was about to be crushed, the elf swung on the chain. Used her feet to squirrel over his shoulder. As he crashed onto his back, she stood unsteadily on his chest. Felt the brutal waves of joy as she strangled every inch of life she could take from the suddenly unresisting creature.

  Though her hands were numb, she willed herself to wrench harder on the chain.

  Just keep pulling, she told herself. Pull until the bones in his neck cracked. She roared through clenched teeth and could taste the bile of hate in the back of her throat.

  Could see tears filling his icy blue eyes. The green skin quickly turning black. Tongue swelling in his mouth. Yet, it was not fear she saw in his expression. But weary acceptance. As though he knew his dreams of resurrecting his dead master were just a fantasy. And in the face of his own death, he finally understood how alone he was in the world.

  Her heart nearly stopped as time was measured not in seconds, but in breaths. And she heard his words. Each syllable raking coldly across the armour she’d built around her heart.

  “Master,” he croaked. “I’m sorry. I have failed.”

  As the last word left his rubbery lips, the elf let out a cry and dropped the chains onto his heaving chest. Her own tears burning in the corners of her eyes as she took a step back. Fell to the ground with a burst of emotion she struggled to contain.

  “What are you doing?” The warlock dashed toward her. He snatched at her jacket, trying to shove her back toward the creature. “Finish it off! Kill it!”

  She grabbed his robe. Pulled him close and snarled; “Fuck you! You don’t tell me who to kill, Chukshene. So, back off! You fucking hear me? You don’t get to tell me who to kill.”

  He fell on his back as she shoved him away. Scrambled sideways. “What the fuck? If you don’t kill him, he’ll kill us. You heard him. He’s fucking insane!”

  Exhausted, the elf stepped close to the massive head. Ignored the twitching arm and grabbed its ear. Looked hard into the sullen blue eyes and waited until his breathing steadied before speaking.

  “You don’t follow me. You understand? You leave me alone.”

  He reached up, slowly. Rubbed at the red mark encircling his throat. “Why? Why let me live, little elf? The human is right. You should kill me. I have built a pointless horror. A horror which I know can never undo what has been done. In my desperation, I had hoped. Hoped he would see my efforts and be returned. But he is dead. His essence ripped from his body. Never to return. Look at my creation, little elf. A wall wet with the blood of innocents. But no matter how much blood soaks through the bones of that wall, it is nothing compared to the tears I have wept. He made this body strong, little elf.” Placing its hand on its heavy chest, the creature closed its eyes. “But inside I am weak. I do not have the strength to return him. Instead of a gateway for him to travel, I have built a shrine to my own failure.”

  “Reckon we’ve all failed a few times in our life,” she said. Thought of Talek. How she’d build a wall five times as high if she thought it would bring him back long enough to tell him how sorry she was. Sorry she’d failed him. And how much she loved him still. “But you ain’t thinking straight. Now, I can see what you’ve done here. It ain’t my idea of home, but then I ain’t ever really stayed in one place for long. Spent most of my time in alleys. But that’s my story. Yours looks like you’ve spent too long down here holding your dick in the dark. And those chains of yours keep you thinking too much about the past. So you ain’t thinking about the future. You can’t bring your master back. Face it. You’re right, you’re a failure. A fucking dog sleeping on his master’s grave and starving to death on dreams of wishful thinking. Reckon it’s time you got that through your oversized skull. Don’t you?”

  “You don’t understand. I am split, little elf. These chains cling to my bones. I am not flesh, nor chain. I am a thing built for his purpose. I have no purpose of my own. I weep, not for regret. But for my failure to anticipate his need.”

  “Fuck his needs,” she growled. “He’s dead. But you should keep your tears. Keep them in a bottle. See, tears like that you can turn into poison. Poison of the worst kind. And, when you’re ready, you can use that poison.”

  The creature with no name frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  So she leaned close. And whispered a word. A single w
ord.

  And his eyes widened.

  Slowly, menacingly, the lips of his mouth twisted upward.

  “Now you understand?” she asked.

  He nodded. “A word I will hold close.” His voice rumbled. He flexed his fingers, forming a gnarled fist. “I will think on it little elf. Perhaps you are right.”

  The warlock looked on, his face screwed into a ball of curiosity. “What did you say?”

  “Ain’t none of your business, ‘lock.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Fair ain’t my business,” she countered. Drifted away from the hulking creature as he slowly sat up. The handles of her knives stuck out awkwardly from its chest. She held out her hand and met the blue-eyed gaze with a determined glare of her own. “But your business here ain’t finished. Reckon you owe me my knives back. Now. Don’t make me come get them.”

  The warlock sucked a breath. “Uh, Nysta,” he whined. “Are they that important? Can’t we just get out of here before he changes his mind?”

  “I was wrong, little elf,” the creature said. His thick fingers clumsily tugged the blades from his flesh before tossing them to her feet. “You resisted my touch where all others have died. You are strong. I will remember this, next time we meet.”

  She bent to retrieve her knives, then searched the gloom for Go With My Blessing before returning it to its sheath. “Yeah, you do that,” she muttered.

  “You could have killed me,” he continued. “Instead, you give me a new life. So, I will tell you this. You seek the top of the cliffs?”

  “Aim to get to Grimwood Creek. In a hurry. Feller there owes me his life. That the quickest way through?”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps. It is one road of many. The way behind my master’s throne will lead you to the summit. It is a place I cannot go. The lights are everywhere. They hurt me. Beware those lights, little elf. You don’t have enough toys to kill them all.”