Revenge Of The Elf (Book 1) (18 page)

“But you survived,” her eyes narrowed. “How'd you do that?”

The fat man snorted. “Survived? I didn't survive. They just didn't want me, yet. Lot of us managed to hide. Could hear each other, sometimes. I hid in widow Kuper's shack for a while. We didn't know what to do,” he screwed up his face, closing his eyes. “She tried to make a run for it. Poor Alys. Didn't make it. Ripped her to pieces right in front of the gates. Grim's eyes, you should've heard her scream. Had my fingers in my ears and I could still hear her. Do you know what that's like, Long-ear? To hear someone begging to die, but you can't do anything?”

She thought of Talek. “Welcome to my nightmare,” she muttered.

He nodded. “Haven't slept properly since. Keep seeing her,” he tapped his temple. “Right in here. Her eyes. They'll haunt me 'til I die. And there was so much blood.”

“Wasn't your fault,” the warlock said softly.

“Maybe not. But it feels like it was.”

Chukshene eyed her with an unreadable expression. “Sure you want to go in there, Nysta?”

“You killed a bunch back there, 'lock. So did I. Reckon we've learnt a thing or two Alys Kuper didn't.”

“What's that?”

She spat into the fire again and allowed the corner of her mouth to curl crookedly toward the scar. “Ain't only women who bleed.”

“These guys you're chasing, though. They'd bleed?”

“I'm counting on it.”

“So if they did go in there, they're likely dead, right?”

“Anyone stupid enough to go into that Rule-blighted town is dead,” the fat man said in a dull tone. “Those things have got the streets.”

“You got out,” the elf said. “So they could get in. And you hid out for, what, days? So maybe they can hole up?”

“Maybe,” he allowed reluctantly. “But why'd they wanna do that? Anyone with enough sense would see there was something wrong and get the fuck outta there long before they got inside. Those things are all over that gate like the pox. You know, I told you I used to be in the cow trade?”

“What's that got to do with it?”

“Maybe something. Maybe not. A few years ago, I ran a herd outside Mistfall. One time, I got caught in a stampede. Bull took a shine to my horse. Ever tried to stop an angry bull? Good luck with that. The whole herd, you know, it's bearing down on us. Bull slammed into my horse like she was nothing. We went down. I rolled out. Managed to avoid getting my leg crushed. Figured I was a goner. But the weirdest thing about it is the herd just split in two. Went right around me. Never happens. Usually, they go right over you, you know? I've seen it, and it ain't pretty. Not at all. But there I was, kneeling in the dirt and hearing them thunder past. Had my hands to my head and not ashamed to say I shit my pants right there. I should've been dead, spellslinger.”

The elf shook her head at him. “This story going anywhere, or you just talking bullshit?”

“I thought I was dead,” the fat man said, lost in his memories. “But I lived. And right after I put an arrow through that bull's fucking head, I left to come here. Wanted as far from cows as I could get. Heard there was money out here trading shit if you've got the head for it. Figured I'd do alright. Didn't do too bad in the end. Was almost ready to take my stake north again. Maybe get to Doom's Reach. Buy an inn. Always thought not getting run over by a herd of cows was the luckiest moment of my life. But even though I'm standing here with fuck all but my shirt and shoes, it turns out that was nothing compared to today. This, right here, is the luckiest fucking day of my life. It's my third chance. Maybe I'll get it right this time. That's if I can get out of here with my skin still on my bones. What I'm saying, Long-ear, is someone's got to be real fucking unlucky to get in there. And real fucking lucky to get out.”

On impulse, the elf shoved her hand into her pocket and her fingers immediately found the odd contours of Talek's box. It didn't feel so cold as it had been. If anything, it felt warmer.

She frowned, thinking of the Nine holed up in some shack in the town. “I have to know if they're there,” she said, aware of Chukshene's eyes on her, an unspoken question hovering between them. She gripped the box harder, feeling the metal ribs scrape beneath her nails. “I have to.”

“Fine,” the warlock sighed. “But don't blame me when they're sucking your brains out through your eyes.”

“
The Darkness will fight again
,” she quoted suddenly. Pressed her fingers to her temples and picked at her memory. “I know that from somewhere. It means something.”

“I'd be real happy if you didn't say it again,” Mccabe said as he rocked back and forth on his fat haunches. Fearful memories spread a look of anguish across his face. “Mean no offence, Long-ear. Can see you're mighty touchy, so won't say it's a demand or anything. But, really. Please? Those things kept saying it over and over. They'd crawl through the streets on their hands and fucking knees like a plague of undead. Moaning it constantly until you thought it was the wind speaking through the alleys. Whatever it means, it ain't good.”

“'Lock?” the elf looked over at the spellslinger, who was still stuffing his face. He opened another package and looked perfectly content.

“Huh?”

“You know what it means?”

“Don't think so,” he said thoughtfully. “Sounds like something the Dark Lord might've said. When he was pissed. Grim ranted a lot of shit when he was drunk. Deathpriests recorded it all. I used to sneak into the old records and read them. You know, just for a laugh? One time, he ran through the streets of Mistfall, telling everyone that the fort at Doom Forge was a worm farm. That the mage there was collecting worms from the bodies of heroes he'd killed. I mean, really. Worms? And another time, he pulled a kraken out of its cavern, dumped it on the beach near Icespring and demanded someone make it into some kind of fucking fried noodle thing. The poor bastard with that job went mad trying. And did I mention what he said about the Emperor's daughter? It's hardly repeatable in polite company, but many a man has looked at her and wondered if it was true before wrestling his raging hard-on back into his pants in case she noticed and had one of her guards cut it off. You think you're tough, Nysta? Well. You're nothing compared to Asa. That woman's a total fucking bitch. But if you believe Grim, she might be worth knowing...”

“I had to fucking ask,” she muttered as the warlock leered into the fire. “Fatman? How many of them are there?”

“How many? Fuck. How should I know? Dozen? Twenty. Fucking hundred and twenty. I don't know. They all look the same. All sound the same. All creep around like fucking ants, crawling all over everything and shit. Spikewrist's now a fucking meatshop for them. An evil place. All I know is, no matter where you go, there they are.”

“Sounds more like a holy shrine than a butcher's lair,” the elf said with a sardonic grin.

“You've got a strange mind,” he said quietly.

“Thinks she's funny sometimes,” the warlock offered.

“Don't sound funny,” the fat man's eyes drifted over the jutting handles pressing against her body. “Don't look very fucking funny, neither. I don't see much to laugh at, Long-ear. That's my home back there. Some good friends of mine just got fucking
eaten
by fuck knows what. Be obliged if you didn't make a joke of it. They was good people, mostly.”

“You might be right,” the elf said, spitting out through the corner of her mouth. She spared him a mirthless smile. “Could be it's a diabolic time to be playing games. You see the bastard in charge again, fatman? After he went in?”

“Not so much. He passed through the street like a ghost sometimes, but you never really saw him straight up. Those things, though. They followed him like he was a god and he hardly even noticed they were there. Reminded me of cows following a bull, you know?”

“I look like someone who knows about cows?”

“Won't tell you what I think you look like.”

“Wise choice,” Chukshene said.

“I ain't stupid. But, you know, I can't stop thinking about his eyes when he was at the gate. There was something about them. Something
old
. And alien. I don't know. Like he knew too much about the world. If I ever saw him again, I'd run so fast you wouldn't see me for dust. But his eyes. They'd follow me, I know. I won't ever stop dreaming about them now. It's like he knew what I was thinking. But there was something else. Something I can't put into words,” the fat man's face was taut and even the sweat glistening on his cheeks looked frozen in rising horror. “Stay away from that town, Long-ear. Turn around. These fellers of yours? They ain't worth what you'll find in there. I don't like you, Long-ear. Ain't ever gonna like you no matter what excuses your spellslinger makes for you being a bitch. But I wouldn't wish what'll happen to you if you go in there on anybody. Whatever he is, demon or not, that evil son of a bitch doesn't need prodding. Leave him be. He's one bull who won't let his herd go around you. They'll roll right over you. Eat you alive.”

The warlock looked impressed. “Well, I'm fucked if I've ever heard anything like it. And I've heard a lot. If I hadn't seen them with my own eyes, I'd say you were full of shit. Or been drinking too much. Long-ear?”

She nodded in agreement. “Man worked with herds, though.”

“So?”

“Guess he'd know a few things about canny bulls.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

She watched the fat man nibble unconsciously on some of the dried meat Chukshene had given him. Nothing he'd said about the town had changed her mind about going in. She had to. Even with her back to it, the town tugged at her as though promising the Bloody Nine holed up inside.

And there was something else, too.

The box in her pocket was getting colder.

The freeze of it threatened to burn her fingers and her palm was numb up to her wrist. Her head was beginning to ache every time she thought about pulling it out and looking at it. Seeing if she could open it, maybe. Though she wanted to keep it hidden, she struggled against her impulse.

Talek had all sorts of rules about the box.

Rules he'd tried to drum into her. Had she been more interested in it then, maybe she would have remembered them.

One of the most important ones, she remembered, was keeping it hidden. And the other one. The one he repeated over and over whenever he was moving it from one hiding place to another.

“Don't touch it,” he'd said.

She started as his voice sounded strongly in her ears. He'd always worn gloves when handling it. The cold bit into her skin like snow-covered fangs.

Grunting, she slid her hand reluctantly from her pocket. Her ears still rang with the fading echo of her husband's voice. It was a smooth voice. Gentle.

A voice she'd loved to listen to, though she'd never told him.

And now never would.

Whether it was the sudden scowl springing to her face, or the snap of her spit splashing into the fire, the fat man backed away fearfully and looked ready to run. “I don't know what else to tell you,” he whined. “The town is cursed. What more do you want to know?”

“I want to know what to expect,” she said through her teeth, feeling her rage boil to the surface. But under the slick coating of kerosene, the elf kept a tight grip of herself. She needed to push him. Needed to break him. Needed him to tell her everything. “I want to know what they'll do when I go in. I want to know if there's somewhere they don't go. If there's a place they gather more often than others. I want to know if there's a back way in, or if I can scale the wall. I want to know what they fucking are. Because I want those bastards who rode out of my home with my husband's blood on their fucking hands. And I want to bury my knife in their hearts! So right now, you bloated fat sack of shit, if they're in there, then you're the only one who might be able to tell me where the fuck they might be hiding.”

The fat man cowered in fear as she towered over him,
A Flaw in the Glass
quivering in her fist. The venomous glow flared wicked in the firelight.

 “I don't know! I don't know! I ain't seen them! I spent these last fucking days hiding in a fucking hole in a fucking wall until I couldn't take it any more! Until I couldn't get out of my head the sight of Alys bolting past me and out the door, screaming her tits off. She couldn't take it either. I heard her scream. I fucking hear her screams all the time now! Oh, I tried not to care. Not to think about it. But I can't. I knew her! And they ate her alive. Stripped the meat from her bones. And I let her run. I let her go out there. Let them eat her. I hid inside that hole and tried to shut my ears, but you can't keep those kind of screams out of your ears. You just can't. They go through the walls. Through the bones of your hands. I only ran because I couldn't take it. Couldn't live any more knowing I let her go out there alone. That I refused to go with her because I was afraid. Because I'm a fucking coward. You might think you're tough. You might be right. But you can't fight them. You can't. There's too many of them. And there's nothing I can tell you to make it any easier. The Shadowed Halls have opened, Long-ear, and they opened right in the middle of that town. You can't fight the Shadowed Halls. So, if that's not enough for you, then you go ahead. You cut me down. You cut out my fucking yellow heart and you eat it if you want. I deserve it. Grim knows, I deserve it. I liked that woman. I really did. Loved her, maybe. But I let her go out there. Let her die in the worst fucking way. And I'll always be wondering now, if I went with her, maybe we would've made it. Maybe...” he slumped, head falling onto his chest as snot and tears poured in equal measure down his chin. “I got nothing left for you, Long-ear. You see, I got nothing left for me.”

Looming over him, the elf felt the weight behind her eyes which was born from the hate surging through her veins.

Hate aimed, not at him, but the nine she trailed.

She could feel every point of rage as they bloomed and though she knew the fat man had no ties to them, she wanted to vent it so desperately she could think of nothing except stabbing him over and over until his blood turned the snow pink around them.