Descent into the Depths of the Earth (7 page)

“Enough to know we don’t want to eat whatever that is cooking
over the fire.” Jus slowly cracked the knuckles of his left fist. “This town
needs justice.”

“Well, I’ve been redressing the balance and doing my bit.”
Escalla finished tugging her long leggings onto her feet and wriggled her
elegant bare toes. “So, are we staying or going?”

“Going.” Jus tried not to breathe the tavern stink. “These
are lower level predators. The disaster in the valley’s giving them the chance
to prey on these refugees.” The man’s face was a shadow beneath the jet black
hell hound skin. “Kill the head, and the body has to die.”

The Justicar swung the pack onto his back, and Escalla stayed
inside for the ride. Above her, Cinders’ tall ears stood proud. With her hands
folded behind her head, Escalla wriggled on her bed of misappropriated gold and
sighed.

“That’s the man!”

Walking heavily through the tavern, Jus heard the excited
yell from the door ahead. He stopped and saw a skinny, pimple-smothered man
backed up by four huge half-orcs dressed in rusted armor. The leader of the
armored brutes seemed strangely hunched and bestial. Part bugbear or part ogre,
he had a skin covered in scabs.

The smaller man swelled in righteous fury and roared, “That
man there! He has a carnivorous backpack! He uses it to extort people!” The
thief waved his hand. “He’s in league with the
Takers!
He’s here to scout
for the pale lady!”

The four half-orcs instantly started forward. Polk
immediately took a big step to one side, carrying himself away from the Justicar
as he opened up his chronicles and dug out a fresh pen. Behind him, the whole
tavern crowd arose. At least twenty thugs, mercenaries, brigands, and rogues
surged to their feet.

Jus walked toward the huge, misshapen figure of the senior
guard. The big ranger scratched his stubbled chin and scowled. “Who’s the pale
lady?”

“She runs the Takers! She clears the valleys.” The half-orc
hissed and flexed its claws. Yelling to his men, the guard began to draw a
scimitar. “They’re Takers! Hang ’em!”

Jus felled the beast with a lightning fast left jab. The
half-orc flew backward into his men, sending weapons flying and armor
clattering.

Another soldier grabbed his comrades by the shoulder and
hurled them to the floor.

“Down!”

The half-orcs threw themselves flat. Behind them stood two
more bestial soldiers, each leveling a crossbow straight toward the Justicar.
Fangs spread into grins as the men swung their weapons onto target.

Cinders’ huge teeth gleamed.

Hello!

Flame blasted through the doorway, slamming the crossbowmen
back into the street. Cinders’ flames sheeted across the half-orcs on the
floor. The hell hound screeched in happy bloodlust as screams filled the air.

Burn! Burn!

A sword hissed toward Jus’ head. The big man ducked and
landed a massive kick into the swordsman’s guts, folding him in two.

Inside the tavern, men scattered aside in terror as Cinders’
nostrils trailed little flames. One man hammered a spell at the Justicar, a
charm spell that twisted aside from the shielding influence of the ranger’s
magic ring. Jus strode forward with a roar, and tavern goers scattered and fled
out the back door.

Escalla popped her head out of Jus’ backpack, looking toward
the open street. She paused for one thoughtful moment, then opened up her hands
and molded an arc of sizzling electricity between her palms. She sped the spell
through the door. A lightning bolt flashed into being just outside the doorway,
sizzling perpendicularly left and right. Unseen voices screamed and wailed.
Escalla dusted off her hands, having eliminated an ambush party waiting just
outside the doors.

Flattened against one tavern wall was the thief. The man
quaked in terror as he stared at Escalla and the Justicar. He took one long look
at Escalla, shook his head in absolute terror, and slid to the ground with his
eyes rolling upward in a faint.

Unused to her beauty being so sadly reviled, Escalla dusted
off the smoking palms of her hands and said, “Next time, just listen to your
friendly neighborhood weasel!”

The tavern seemed deserted. Escalla flew out of the backpack
and went to search her victims for loose change.

“Are we done yet? I hate taverns like this!”

Jus shook his stinging left hand. The half-orc’s jaw had felt
like it had been drop-forged out of steel.

“Let’s go.”

“Sure. Just a bit!” Escalla surfaced from amidst a pile of
smoking half-orcs. “Hey! A gold tooth! You got any pliers?”

“Escalla…”

“Your dagger will do in a pinch.”

“Escalla!”

“Just kidding!” The faerie waved her hands in innocence.
“Lighten up! We came, we saw, he toasted butt—just another typical day.”

Jus snared her by the wings and dragged the girl outside.

“Let’s get moving before their pale lady takes an interest.”
The ranger shot a look at Polk, who was taking a hasty body count. “Polk,
move.”

Jus strode onto a street that now seemed deserted. A last few
people were fleeing into their homes. Jus threw Polk into the wagon and wrenched
the mule into motion, whacking the creature into a trot and running heavily
alongside.

Still busy with his books, Polk totted up numbers and beamed
in delight. “Not bad, son! Not bad!” Polk tried to make a note in his ledger. “I
make it sixteen at least!”

Jus clung onto the mule’s mane as he lumbered down the road.
“Shut up and drive the cart.”

Polk closed his book with a loud bang. “One punched, one
kicked, six burned, and eight fried.”

Escalla clung onto the sides of the cart, her hair streaming
in the breeze. “And one just kinda fainted!”

“So that’s
seventeen!”

Jus looked back over his shoulder and said, “Polk, what are
you doing now?”

“Keeping score! Every group of heroes has to have a score!”

A side trail led off the main track. Forced to slow down, the
Justicar cursed the mule and cart for the thousandth time as he swung them onto
the new route. Hanging back as the cart blundered onward, Jus swept the new
trail with a severed branch and retreated away from the main track.

Escalla sat atop the cart counting a little pile of gold. She
smiled at Jus, holding up one of her glittering trophies. The Justicar growled
under his breath, swept the trail clean of cart tracks, then walked irritably
along at the wagons tail.

A mile down the track, Jus allowed the mule cart to slow to a
halt. Wheezing like broken bellows, the mule staggered forward to a little
stream where it stood hock-deep in water. Polk took the chance to uncork his
whiskey bottle. The little man took a swig, sighed, sealed his bottle, and then
sat up in his seat.

“When do we go back to town? Your ruse must have worked, boy!
The soldiers will be out searchin’, so now’s the time to head back and face down
their leader with cold, hard steel!”

Annoyed, Jus glared at the little man, half tempted to
harness him next to his own mule. “Polk, we are not fighting anyone!”

“But they said they knew a pale lady! Were she good, she’d be
the ‘fair lady’, but ‘pale lady’… she just
has
to be evil!”

“They thought
we
worked for her, Polk. Shut up and
drink.”

The glade seemed peaceful, deserted, and quiet. Little birds
twittered amidst the brilliant red autumn leaves while the cups of fallen acorns
shone twinkling in the sun. Water flashed and sunken leaves lined the streambed
with red and gold.

The Justicar stood, feet planted wide apart, and his gaze
speared Escalla. The little faerie raised one brow and pointed at herself in
inquiry. Jus answered by crooking a finger in her direction.

“Escalla. A word.”

Deliberately innocent, Escalla drifted into the air and kept
pace with Jus as he stalked beside the stream. Already guessing virtually
everything he needed to know, the Justicar turned toward Escalla.

“The tavern… ?”

Rubbing her hands together and looking a tad embarrassed,
Escalla shook her head in wonder. “Yeah, some place, huh? Sad how some people
just take an instant dislike to you for no reason at all!”

Unamused, Jus held her in place with a scowl. “You promised
not to cause any more trouble.”

“Aw, but it’s an
endearing
kind of trouble!” Escalla
made a sheepish grin, then pranced in midair in front of the Justicar. “It’s
lively! It’s fun! You’d miss it if it wasn’t there every day of your life! How’s
your hand, by the way?”

“Hurts.”

Escalla took his hand and gave it a little faerie kiss, light
as a feather and strangely warm. “Well, it was a good punch.”

Jus flexed his hand and winced—then remembered that he was
supposed to be cowing Escalla beneath the weight of his indignation.

“You promised no more scams! You lied to me!”

Escalla sighed miserably and suddenly seemed the heart and
soul of guilt. Her long antennae wilted, and her pointed ears fell. “I’m sorry,
because you know, when you think about it, when we lie, we murder the truth.”

“Yes.” Puffing up with righteousness, Jus gave a dire nod.
“Well put. I agree.”

Escalla put on her most gentle, wise, and sorrowful face. She
laid one hand on the Justicar’s shoulder and used her other hand to show him the
glory of the trees.

“Autumn leaves falling, branches stark and withering, and
within it all, the acorns send green shoots into the soil. Beautiful, aren’t
they?” The girl floated like a spirit of the wilds, while overhead tall oak
trees soared. “Each new green shoot springs from the loam, but do you know where
that loam comes from?”

Jus stood his ground and folded up his arms. “Do tell.”

“It comes from the dead leaves and trees that have gone
before.” Escalla seemed full of an infinite, quiet motherly love as she floated
amidst natures timeless wonder. “New life springs from the death of old, and
ideas are the same! Truths are just preconceptions, ideas trapped and put into a
box! Sure, lies murder the truth, but when we kill truths, it allows new ideas
to spring up in their place! A glorious profusion of nature. Intellectual
freedom! Art and science and light and love!” The avatar of a glorious future,
Escalla turned a pirouette up in the sky. “Jus, we
owe
it to future
generations. They deserve that intellectual freedom! And it’s all in our hands,
Jus! I say we owe it to the future to lie through our teeth
right now!”

He stopped and stood there, arms folded, and watched her
patiently. Escalla hovered in front of him, coyly biting one finger.

“Not buying it?”

“Not really.”

“Still… pretty hoopy speech, huh?”

A warrior for justice should not be amused at falsity. Jus
sniffed and kept a straight face. “One of your better ones.”

“Ha! Sorry, man. I drive you nuts.” Escalla flipped a finger
as though tipping an imaginary cap. “If you didn’t love me, you’d never put up
with me.”

“Yeah.”

Jus’ face cracked into a fond smile despite itself. Suddenly
Escalla met his eyes and matched his expression. The girl suddenly blushed, then
paled and hastily whirred backward, thoroughly flustered. Aware that his ears
were glowing an uncomfortable red, Jus cleared his throat, scowled, and turned
to look along the stream.

Escalla cleared her throat and sped off to the wagon, busying
herself by tidying an already neat pile of coins. Jus decided to walk along the
stream and look for nonexistent tracks.

From his perch atop Jus’ head, Cinders sniggered and hissed
smoke.
Funny!

Choosing not to comment, Jus tugged his armor straight and
went about the serious business of being the Justicar.

* * *

Back at the wagon, Escalla meandered in midair like a
hummingbird surveying her domain. With a sly, self-satisfied little smile, she
blew a strand of hair from her eyes, pushing her long cornsilk locks behind her
pointed ears. Remembering a hand mirror tucked into dark recesses of her
baggage, the faerie fluttered down to pull at the satchels stored upon the cart,
spilling her embarrassing collection of lingerie, old scrolls, and stale faerie
cakes into the sun.

Gold sparkled amidst the bric-a-brac. Busily propping up the
mirror against the baggage, Escalla flicked the gold a single annoyed glance.
She stood before the mirror and turned sideways to admire her little figure,
tidied her hair… and then frowned as the golden glimmer caught her eye once
more.

There, lying amidst a colorful scatter of underwear, was a
tiny little necklace on which a single clear stone shone and glittered in the
sunlight. Escalla approached it, looking at it in startled disbelief. She
touched it. The gold work was impossibly fine and fashioned perfectly for the
scale and delicacy of a faerie.