Duel At Grimwood Creek (Book 2) (17 page)

“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 word.

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.”

Her fingers scratched at the scar on her cheek. “The lights?”

“There are too many to fight.”
 

“Maybe you could open the wall outside and let us out, then?” Chukshene asked hopefully.
 

“The wall will never fall,” the creature said. His eyes glowed fiercely. “It will remain strong. Perhaps soon it will not remind me of my failure. Perhaps it will give others cause to fear. Follow the tunnel, little elf. Take your human with you. I will not follow.”
 

“Obliged.”
 

“Umm. I'm not her human. I'm mine.”
 

“Shut up, 'lock.”
 

The creature finished hauling himself to his feet and watched them go, a fathomless expression on his face.

But when they'd entered the tunnel and were heading upward again, they heard a low rumble which quickly rose in pitch until the awful sound made the air shake around them.

Chukshene shuddered. “Is he laughing? At us, do you think?”

“It matter?”
 

“Not really, I guess,” he said, sighing as the ugly noise trailed into the distance. Then chuckled to himself. “Maybe he just got one of your jokes, Long-ear. I mean, he seemed to like you in the end. Grim only knows why.”
 

“Figure you should watch your own act, 'lock. The big lights are still far away, but I reckon I've got what you need to make it to that stage.”
 

“What's that?”
 

“A gag.”
 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“You felt sorry for him,” he accused as they crawled through a tight gap between two sides of the collapsing tunnel. “Admit it. You actually felt pity for something other than yourself. How do you feel about that?”
 

“How do you feel about choking on my fist?” she replied between grunts. Lost some skin as she squeezed through. Tumbled out the other end as though spat out, and rolled to her feet. The warlock's glowing yellow orb hovered further down the tunnel. He'd cast it again as soon as they were shrouded in darkness.
 

“I'm not crazy on the idea,” he said. “I was just surprised is all. I mean, you don't seem the type to pity anything. Hey. would you mind giving me a hand? I'm not as skinny as you. Must be all the sweet rolls. Ever been to Ravensholme? Of course you haven't. You should. Best fucking sweet rolls in all the Fnordic Lands. And, trust me, I've tried them all.”
 

She grabbed hold of his outstretched arm and began tugging him through.

“Not so fast!” he yelped. “Fuck. My leg's caught. And I think you're gonna break my fucking back.”