Servant of the Serpent (Serpent's War Book 1) (6 page)

Corian lifted his blurry eyes and stared down the river. There was nothing to be seen, only the silent flowing waters of the Sarana. Still he stared, imagining himself chasing after her. A raft, a log, even swimming. He couldn’t give up. He couldn’t abandon her.

The determined elf lifted his leg and planted his foot. He would stand. He would rise up and go after her. He struggled but his body resisted. The world spun and swam around him as though he’d already plunged into the water. He fought against it and pushed down on his foot. His movement was not up but to the side. Corian collapsed onto the bank and, using trampled weeds as a pillow, knew no more.

Chapter 6

Corian woke to the crackle of fire and a low, growling noise that raised the hair on his arms. He blinked and jerked upright, stopping when he saw the short creature with vibrant yellow hair chewing on a bit of meat he held on a stick. The creature wore a mismatched suit of leather, chain, and even plate armors. A curved sword sat at his side, not so different from the talwars used by the humans to the southeast.

The creature looked at him and grinned, showing sharp teeth with strings of meat stuck between them.

“Don’t mind Bonky. Him’s always eating.”

Corian felt his neck pop as he jerked it to his right. His jaw fell open and he leaped back and up. A massive troll, nine feet tall if he was an inch, was standing next to a fire and maneuvering several sticks into a pot. “Troll!” Corian cried when he found his voice. His heel found a clump of weeds and tripped him, sending him off balance and making his arms windmill. The elf tried to catch himself but there was nothing to be done. He landed with a splash in the cold waters of the Sarana.

Corian splashed and twisted, reaching for the surface. The current tugged at him, pulling him away from the shore. His head broke free, allowing him to gasp and choke for a moment. He saw a dark shape looming over him just as his ankle was grabbed. He opened his mouth to cry out but the powerful jerk that hauled him back forced his head underwater again. Water filled his mouth and throat, burning its way down into his chest.

He was yanked out of the water, his senses overloaded to the point where nothing was right. He hit something hard, the ground perhaps, and then was thrown to the side and battered on his chest and face. Rocks or fallen tree limbs clubbed him in the back, forcing him to try to grunt or scream. His lungs burned anew as he retched out the river water and ended up in a ragged coughing fit.

Corian turned his head from the puddle he’d left on the ground and saw the short creature, Bonky, sitting on the ground and eating as though nothing had happened. The troll was on one knee next to him, a massive forearm resting on his thigh. He was wearing some manner of blackened armor that came from no animal or forge Corian had ever heard of.

“Dat was stupid,” the troll said, his voice nearly deep enough to make Corian’s bones ache. “Thork near bashed yous getting da water out.”

Corian tried to push himself up and away from the troll but his body ached and felt unnatural. Even for an elf, a race renowned for their agility and flexibility, he felt like his arms and legs were so loose they were barely connected to his body. He managed to pick his head up and look around to see what, or who, Thork was. All he saw was the slaughtered corpse of an alligator near the river’s edge.

“Thork?” he mumbled and then coughed from the irritation in his throat.

“What?” the troll asked.

Corian’s eyes narrowed. The troll was Thork? “You?”

Thork grinned, displaying a mouthful of teeth Corian knew he’d be seeing again in his nightmares. Assuming the troll hadn’t saved him from the river so he could toss him in the cauldron over the fire.

“Dis is Thork,” the troll said while jabbing himself in the armored chest with his thumb. He nodded to the goblin and added, “Dat’s Bonky, Thork’s goblin. Is yous hungry?”

“I—I can’t move,” Corian realized. He managed to budge his left arm but it wasn’t acting right. His right was tingling as though it had fallen asleep and was struggling to wake up. His legs were worse; they were numb.

“Oops,” Thork mumbled. “Thork whacked yous too hard.”

A blast of heat fueled by panic rushed through him. He lifted his head up higher and gasped out, “What?” He wanted to demand more but a fresh fit of coughing rocked him.

“Yous is scared,” Thork said. “Dat's how Thork knew yous was here.”

“Scared? What? What’s wrong with me?” Corian growled. He found speaking in a lower voice irritated his throat less. “What did you do?”

“Thork maybe broke yous’s back,” the troll said. He offered a gruesome smile and added, “Sorry bout dat.”

“My—you—I can’t move! Ever?”

“How scared is yous?”

“I’m not!” Corian yelped.

Thork scowled. “Yous is scared of being scared. Thork hoped yous was beddur dan dat.”

Corian’s brow furrowed as the troll turned and walked back to the fire. Thork pulled out one of the sticks, showing pale strips of meat that he’d been cooking. The troll squeezed it and grimaced, and then shook his fingers and stuck them in his mouth.

“Almost done, Bonky,” Thork said after dropping the meat back into the cauldron. “We’ll have to find anudder stupid dat can do what needs doing.”

The goblin shrugged and tossed his stick aside. He eyed the alligator’s corpse and licked his lips.

“Wait—” Corian hissed. “What do you mean? What are you doing? You can’t just leave me here—you did this to me!”

Thork turned to look at Corian. He frowned and reached up to tap a large tooth with his dirty fingernail. “Troof, Thork did bash yous back,” the troll admitted. “But Thork saved yous from being gator bait while yous was napping. Dis stupid spot for a camp wifout someone to watch yous.”

“I fainted,” Corian said. “I was after my sister—splisskin took her. I tracked them for days and then I couldn’t go anymore. I—”

“Yous can’t get her,” Thork interrupted. “Not here. Not now.”

“I just have to follow them. I’ll get her,” Corian vowed.

Thork guffawed. “Not like dis yous won’t!”

The elf opened and shut his mouth. The troll was right. He was useless. Worse than useless, he was crippled. The gator should have eaten him; it would have been a merciful death.

“Is yous scared yet?”

Corian glared at the grinning monster. “Scared? Of what? Wasting away until something comes by to kill me? Another alligator or a snake? Something else, like a prowler bear? Maybe more splisskin coming through, since they seem to walk the forest with impunity.”

“Yous is feisty,” Thork said. “What about gitting bashed? Does dat scare yous?”

“Bashed?”

Thork drew his finger across his throat and made a croaking sound.

Corian grimaced. “I don’t want to die,” he admitted.

“And Jillybean?”

“Jil—Jilly!” Corian’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “You—”

“Is yous scared for her?”

“You bastard!” Corian hissed.

Thork grinned. “Is dat a yes?”

“Yes!” the elf shouted. “You whore-son, yes! I have to save her but I can’t. Because of you! I swear on Saint Millesius that if he gives me the strength to rise, I will gut you like the pig you are!”

Thork’s eyes widened and then he started to chuckle. His chuckle grew louder until he was bellowing with laughter. Corian could only stare, not understanding at first and then snarling his anger.

“Yous should be careful who yous asking for help,” Thork said. “Yous might git what yous want and find out yous didn’t want it.”

Corian sneered at him and turned away. “Kill me, already.”

“Really? Yous’s given up?”

“I can’t do anything!” Corian shouted. “I’m crippled. Worthless. Useless! I can’t help my sister. I can’t help anyone!”

“What if yous could?” Thork asked. “Would yous?”

Corian’s eyes narrowed. “What nonsense is this? You’re no priest—you’re a troll!”

Thork grinned and reached into the cauldron. He pulled one of the sticks out and kept pulling. Corian’s eyes widened as the skewer proved impossibly long for the pot. When he finally pulled it free, he saw it was the length of a spear, complete with a blade that had runes etched into it. The final proof was the green glow it emitted, overpowering the fire and basking the campsite and riverside in a green radiance.

“I’ll have no part of your unholy schemes!” Corian sputtered.

Thork plucked the strip of gator meat off the blade and tossed it to Bonky. The goblin caught it and hissed as the scalding hot meat burned his fingers. He tossed it from hand to hand and blew on it to cool it down. “Da gator’s done,” Thork announced. “Yous hungry?”

“I told you I—”

“Yous got balls,” Thork interrupted him. “Dats saying sumfin, for an elf.”

“What? You—”

Thork chuckled. “Der's fings happenin. Lots of fings. Thork needs someone to help wif dat. Thork will help yous, if yous help Thork.”

“I told you, I won’t deal with dark forces!”

“Thork isn’t dark forces. Thork is Thork. Power is power. Yous do wif it what yous want.”

Corian’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

Thork thumped the butt of his spear on the ground, causing a burst of green light to flare from the spear. “Da spear and da sword isn’t good or bad. Well, most of da time. It’s da stupid using dem. Same with mojo.”

Corian blinked, more lost now than before.

Thork sighed. He dug into a pouch and pulled out a dagger. He chuckled. “Dats where dat went!” The troll tossed the knife on the ground and then reached in and rooted around some more. Like the cauldron, his arm went deeper than should have been possible. When he pulled it out, he held two vials in his massive hand. He looked them both over, frowning a little, and then tossed one off to the side. The bottle rolled across the ground and came to a rest near Bonky.

“Drink dis,” Thork said and walked closer to Corian. He held it out to the elf and then grinned. “Oops, Thork forgot yous got bashed.”

“What is it?” Corian asked.

“Mojo. Mojo in a bottle,” Thork said. “Dis fix yous bashins.”

Bonky gagged and clutched at his throat. He staggered and toppled to the side.

“Good, Thork gived yous da right one.”

Corian stared at the fallen goblin. “Is he—did you—is he dead?”

Thork frowned. “Don’t fink so. Dat was an experiment. Thork runs Trolwerkz!, da mojo potion shop. Yous heard of it?”

“Uh, no.”

Thork sighed. “Dats okies, da hardest part is gettin da word out. Here, open yous mouf and Thork will pour it in.”

Corian’s instinct was to shake his head and clamp his mouth shut. He stopped himself. If the troll wanted him dead, he’d be dead. He glanced at Bonky again and took in a reluctant breath. “All right,” Corian said and then turned his head and opened his mouth.

Thork grinned and pulled the cork out of the vial. He leaned forward and tilted it, spilling the liquid into his mouth. Corian took as much as he could and swallowed it, noting that it tasted like the river water that had nearly drowned him. It went down, soothing the ache in his throat and then spreading through his body. His chest seized as the magical water slipped into his chest and stomach and filled him so he couldn’t breathe.

Corian stiffened and tried to force his lungs to move. To force the water out and draw in a fresh breath. He shook his head back and forth, mouth opening and shutting. The water flooded through his body, passing beyond his stomach into his legs and arms. Corian thought it was impossible, but with the troll’s magic at work, there was no telling what could happen to him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He was tired. Exhausted. The troll wasn’t helping this time; he was just staring at him. Corian squeezed his eyes shut and tried again, tightening his belly to try to push the water out. His throat was frozen, refusing to let the water out and air in. He clutched it and rubbed and scratched, desperate for air. Corian rolled up on his side and opened his lips while curling in a ball. He tried striking himself, driving his fist into his belly and forcing the water out.

“Well, dat’s sumfin,” Thork mused.

Corian heard the troll and ignored him. The bastard was probably enjoying his torture. He had to breathe so he could get up and— He’d moved. Not only moved, he could feel his arms and legs. He could use them! He was healed and he hadn’t even known it. He’d felt the water rush through his body and heal him, even as it filled his lungs and paralyzed them.

Or had it? His chest and throat had ached from the near-drowning earlier. Was it the magic healing him? Was he really imagining things? Was it his own fear of drowning that was killing him?

Corian relaxed his throat instead of fighting it. He gasped and gagged, coughing as he breathed in and out. There was no water, just air and some drool. He gasped and looked up at the grinning troll.

“Yous gonna do just fine,” Thork said.

Corian heaved for breath and shook his head. “I’m still going to kill you.”

The troll laughed loud enough to scare the sleeping birds from nearby trees.