Bastial Steel (24 page)

Lysha gestured for them to follow her as she walked toward the hill. “Let’s get a look inside to see what we’re dealing with.”

Atop the mountainside, Lysha lay flat and crawled to the edge where she parted tall grass for a look. Then she waved Jek and Cleve forward to join her.

There were makeshift shelters within the encampment, but Cleve found only one wooden building with four walls.

“That has to be where they’re holding them,” Lysha said, not needing to even point. There was nothing else she could’ve been referring to.

Many of the trees within the encampment had been cut down. Cleve figured their wood had been used for fire when needed, for the cabin containing the Takary Prince and Queen, and for the many shelters that were composed of nothing more than two walls and a roof.

There were a few dozen hammocks set up between two thick rods of wood as well. Some were being used at the moment. From the way men’s limbs dangled off them, they looked to be asleep.

“Definitely over a hundred of them.” Lysha’s discouraged tone was revealing—she still didn’t have any idea how they would get Raymess and Vala out without being seen. “Anything you can do with Sartious magic?” Lysha asked, each of them still lying flat.

“Not really,” Jek said. “We could set fire to the cloth barrier and try to get in through the other side during the panic, but there’s a risk they would realize what was happening and kill the Takarys before we made it to the cabin. I wouldn’t want to try it.”

“Neither would I,” Lysha said. She let out a loud breath as she pushed herself to her knees. “Looks like we’re going to need to wait until night.” She turned to start down the hill. “At least then—” Lysha stopped abruptly.

Cleve looked over his shoulder to find a mooker had come up the hill behind them. It had an angry look. A growl rumbled out of its throat.

It didn’t like us talking,
Cleve realized.

Lysha started the
we are peaceful
dance.

The mooker’s growl stopped and he mooked with her, chanting “mook” with his movements.

Jek whispered, “Stay low and behind Lysha to make it clear she’s the one who represents us.”

The mooker stopped chanting. Then Lysha switched her dance to one that Cleve hadn’t seen before. She turned sideways. With her hands on her thighs, she bent her knees up and down as her whole body moved to and fro in a wavelike motion. It was slow and careful, strangely sexual, even.

“What’s that dance?” Cleve whispered.

“I think it’s the
come here
dance,” Jek whispered back. “There’s usually not a good reason to call over a mooker, so most people don’t even take the time to learn it.”

The mooker smiled at the sight of Lysha’s movements. With his egregious underbite, the shape of his mouth didn’t change much, only the corners lifted. He turned sideways and joined Lysha with his own wavelike motion. Being such a small creature with a large belly, Cleve was impressed how well it could mimic Lysha, such a slender woman. It sidestepped toward her as it mooked.

The moment the creature was close, it jumped onto her shoulder in one leap and sat with its legs dangling. Jek stood and moved out of the way, pulling Cleve with him.

Lysha brought the mooker to the edge and pointed down at the encampment. Cleve followed her finger with his eyes. It seemed like she was directing the mooker’s attention at the sleeping men in the hammocks.

“Mook?” The creature hopped up onto its feet, still on Lysha’s shoulder and using one hand on her head for balance. It pointed with its other. “Mook! Dura maba!”

It leapt off her shoulder and started down the hill, continuing to yell words Cleve couldn’t hope to understand. The next sight caused his hand to draw his Bastial steel sword without even a thought. His chest squeezed around his heart with a surge of panic.

Hundreds of mookers were jumping out of the bushes, from behind trees, from out of nooks, from between rocks. They were swarming like bees, rushing toward the encampment in a mad scramble. Their shouts had become high-pitched, sounding akin to a war cry.

Lysha started down the hill. “Come on!” she screamed.

Cleve and Jek followed. “Will they attack us?” Jek asked.

“Maybe after we get inside, if they confuse us with being associated with the sleepers,” Lysha answered. “But not until then.”

Lysha stopped at the bottom of the hill, waiting for all the hidden mookers to emerge and join the stampede of little monsters. There must’ve been a thousand of them. The sound of their grumbly shouts piqued someone’s interest, for a man within the encampment lifted up one of the black pieces of cloth between two trees for a look.

He didn’t glance over at Cleve and the others to the side of the stampede. He didn’t give himself enough time for that. The moment he saw the mookers a few seconds from him, he screamed and ran farther into the encampment.

Lysha broke into a sprint, keeping close to the mookers. “Jek, keep us as hidden as you can with SE clouds once we get inside.” She was holding her bow now. Cleve already had his sword in hand, and he noticed Jek drawing the wand from his belt.

The mookers were so fast, Cleve would barely be able to catch up to them if he wanted to. It was a frightening thought to think that his party might not be able to outrun them. They kept to the side of the stampede of mookers, making sure they weren’t easily seen by those within the encampment.

Already there were screams of both man and mooker. Cleve stopped next to Lysha behind a tree that used to have black cloth stretched around it. But now the cloth had fallen, trampled to shreds by mookers.

Jek peaked around the tree, poking out his wand and beginning to produce a green cloud of Sartious Energy.

Lysha looked around the other side of the tree. “The cabin is about seventy yards ahead of us,” she said. “We’re going to fight our way there. Keep moving at all times. We need to get inside of the cabin and shut the door behind us to keep out the mookers.”

“Alright, ready?” Jek asked, his tone cool and collected.

“Yes,” Cleve and Lysha answered.

By then, the Sartious cloud around them was too thick to see through. “I’m going to use Bastial wind to blow this cloud ahead of us,” Jek said. “It won’t stretch too far, maybe ten yards. But I’ll try to drag it with us.”

Lysha grabbed Cleve’s wrist. “Careful swinging that sword around me. It’ll open up my flesh as if I were made of butter.”

“It won’t touch you,” Cleve said. He realized he was sounding arrogant, but he just meant it as the truth. He knew how to control a weapon.

“Good.” Lysha nodded. “Go, Jek.”

Cleve leaned out behind Jek to watch. The mage pushed his wand forward and a windy sound followed. The green cloud flowed forward at about the speed of a jog. The three of them followed behind it.

On either side of the SE were battles all throughout the encampment. For every man, there were ten mookers. And each time, Cleve saw mookers jumping onto the man’s face and shoulders, taking him down. In a matter of seconds they’d move on to the next.

They continued forward, and Cleve found someone who’d backed against a tree and found some success simply screaming and thrashing his sword about to keep the little monsters at bay. They edged in and out, looking for a safe way to attack. One jumped at him, only to be hit by the man’s weapon, letting out a shriek and flying through the air like a ball.

Two more jumped at once. One of them was struck like the first, but the other latched onto the man’s face. He tried to pry off the mooker, only to be taken down by the rest waiting for their opportunity.

“Can we go any faster?” Lysha asked, her tone somewhat panicked. “This might’ve been a bad idea.”

“I can’t!” Jek yelled. “And it was definitely a bad idea.” His frantic tone was the exact opposite of what it was before.

Cleve couldn’t help but realize this was the stupid decision the Takary sisters had been worried Jek and Cleve would make. He found it almost comical that it was Lysha’s choice, though, not theirs…
almost
comical.

A mooker jumped onto his leg and opened its mouth to bite Cleve, but he kicked the creature off before it could. Lysha shot it with an arrow before Cleve had a chance to drive his sword into it. Another one jumped at Jek. Cleve saw it coming and slashed his sword downward, slicing the creature in half.

If a mooker had never been on his shoulder, he would’ve thought they had soft skin given how easy it was to cut the little monster with his Bastial steel sword. But he’d felt one enough to know that their skin was even tougher than his.

“We should be close,” Lysha said from the front. “Let the cloud fizzle out so we can see.”

Jek let his wand drop, giving out an exhausted breath. Lysha was right, the cabin was just ahead.

With immense fury, Lysha pushed on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Cleve!”

“I got it.” He kicked the door with all his strength.

It flew open, and the three of them jumped in, shutting the door behind them. The cabin was small enough to see everything the moment Cleve stepped inside.

“Kasko,” Cleve muttered, taking a step toward the small man.

“Stop,” Kasko said calmly…too calmly for Cleve’s taste. “Throw down your weapons or she dies.” He had a knife pressing into the throat of a woman who had to be Vala Takary, the Queen of Goldram.

Her hands and feet were bound with rope. Kasko stood against the wall, holding her in front of him. Vala’s eyes were wide in fear, her mouth twisted and uttering little gasps with each subtle movement Kasko made.

Beside Vala was a man in his twenties with the same golden brown skin as his mother and the other Takarys.

Raymess…not moving.

“Is Raymess alive?” Lysha asked, keeping her bow aimed at Kasko. The Prince was slumped in the corner, cuts covering his face and arms.

Outside, screams of death were becoming less frequent. It was only a matter of time before the mookers had killed everyone. Cleve still didn’t know if they would force their way into the cabin or not, but he did know he needed to hurry.

Cleve decided to toss down his sword as Kasko had demanded. Jek threw down his wand next. Lysha kept her bow aimed high, though, even taking a step forward.

“Don’t test me,” Kasko warned her.

“Is Raymess alive?” Lysha repeated, this time louder.

“Yes,” Kasko said. “I know how much I can bleed a man before he dies. Now throw down your bow or I’ll kill Vala Takary.”

The Queen whimpered.

Lysha tossed her weapon, taking her Bastial steel knife from her belt and throwing it on the ground as well.

“Now what?” Cleve asked. He had no idea what Kasko had planned, but whatever it was, it needed to happen soon. The mookers could find them at any moment.

“Someone is going to die,” Kasko said. “It can either be you, Cleve, or Vala Takary here.”

“The moment you kill her, you’re dead as well,” Cleve said.

“I’m fine with that,” Kasko said with startling confidence. “Once the Takarys hear how you let her die instead of yourself, your life will be over anyway. And there’s nothing more I want right now than for you to suffer.”

Kasko grabbed the whimpering queen by the hair. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Stop struggling or I’ll kill you now.” He pressed the knife into the underside of her chin, and a trickle of blood ran down it. She stiffened, closing her eyes and shedding a tear.

Kasko let go of her hair to jab his finger at Cleve. “You’ve ruined everything I’ve been working toward with Jessend. I was going to use her to take power in Waywen and win this war. Capturing Raymess and Vala was done under my command. And now you’re about to ruin that as well!” Kasko screamed. A silence followed that allowed Cleve to hear the grunt-filled dialogue of a group of mookers walking around outside.

“Keep your voice down,” Lysha urged through a whisper. “Or we’re all dead.”

“I’ll shut up once you run a knife across Cleve’s neck!” Kasko screamed.

The mookers outside grew louder. Jek seemed to be using Sartious Energy to do something with the door.

Lysha moved away from the one window, refusing to look at Cleve. “I will not kill Cleve, and you will not kill Vala or Raymess,” she threatened. “The only way you’re getting out of this alive is if you let her go and we bind your wrists with SE. We’ll take you out of here safely.”

A smile formed on Kasko’s lips—one that sent a chill down Cleve’s back. “I’d rather be killed here after watching Cleve die than spend my life in the Takary prison. But if that’s not going to happen, I’ll settle for killing Vala. First, Raymess needs to know what’s happening.”

Kasko kicked the Prince in the side. Raymess groaned but did not wake. Kasko kicked him harder, and the Prince’s face came to life, scrunching with pain. When he found Cleve and the others, his eyes widened.

“You’re getting out of here,” Kasko told him. “But your mother might die first. It’s up to this man, Cleve Polken.” Kasko pointed at Cleve. “It’s his choice as to who lives and who dies. If he lets Lysha cut open his throat, I’ll let your mother go. But if he doesn’t, then I’ll cut hers open…and with great pleasure. You’ll tell your father what happened here. Understand?”