The Underground City (4 page)

Tallis
ignored Bill and started a fire in the hearth by merely looking at it. I wondered if I would ever get accustomed to his acumen with magic. Probably not. I scanned his house, taking stock of everything and concluding it looked exactly the same as it had the last time I was here.

It
smelled of earth, water and trees—like the forest, itself. All the furniture, which was comprised of a table and two chairs, a couch and Tallis’s bed, was constructed of hand-hewn logs. The bed and the couch were covered with animal furs, while the mattress and pillows were filled with straw. Other animal hides were scattered on the ground directly in front of the fire. I was familiar enough with Tallis’s cabin after spending the night here on more than one occasion, with Bill, of course.

“Looks
like you’re in luck, Bill,” I said as we both watched Tallis carry an iron pot to the fire and place it into the flames. “Although I’ll bet it isn’t squirrel or gopher.” As far as I knew, creatures in the Dark Wood weren’t the same as you’d find in an Earth forest. The only experience I had with any creatures in the Dark Wood were enormous, flying spiders. The spiders, which we’d encountered during our first mission into the Underground City, were gargantuan. They stood as high as my knees and were dangerous because they squirted out venom, which could kill you. And they hunted in packs.

“Nice,”
Bill responded, patting his stomach as it growled again. “Although I will admit that the last time we ate Conan’s food, I got major meat sweats for like a week. Then I had such rancid farts, when we went grocery shopping at Tesco, people started lookin’ around and sayin’ there must have been a sewage problem.”

“God,
Bill,” I said, shaking my head.

“Swear!”
Bill replied, even crossing his heart. “I was blastin’ the most disgustin’, rotten, shit-smellin’ farts. The worst of my entire life! I nearly made myself pass out.”

“Yer
trainin’ will be in two parts, lass,” Tallis suddenly announced. He lifted the cover off the pot and stirred its contents, apparently not overly concerned about Bill’s intestinal discomfort.

“Okay,”
I said, taking a seat on one of the animal furs I found on the floor. Bill chose to sit in one of the chairs beside the table.

“The
first half o’ the day will be spent oan trainin’ ye how ta wield yer sword,” Tallis continued. It was actually the second lesson he would give me on sword fighting. Because I was so hopeless when it came to fencing or using my sword, I figured I needed all the practice and guidance I could get. “The second half o’ the day will be spent oan trainin’ yer body.”

“Training
my body?” I repeated, with a frown, unaware of his gist.

Tallis
nodded. “Jist as ye moost possess knowledge an’ skill ta wield yer sword, so moost yer body be in tip-top condition ta deal with the trials an’ tribulations o’ bein’ a Retriever.”

“So,
you mean … I’ll be lifting weights or something?” I asked, still confused.

“You
are
skinny fat, Lil,” Bill pointed out, his eyebrows raised as he pointed at my stomach. “I mean, you look skinny but you’re all flabby an’ shit.” I glared at him until he shut up.

“Aye,
weights an’ cardio trainin’ ta ensure yer swiftness oan yer feet,” Tallis answered as he stirred the contents of the pot again.

“Conan’s
gonna turn you into that Terminator chick,” Bill piped up with a wink at me. “I totally wanted ta bone her when that movie came out.” A few moments of silence ensued as he, no doubt, was picturing Linda Hamilton’s naked body in his mind. “’Course, she’s prolly too old an’ loose now.” Then he shook his head. “Nah, I’ll bet she’s a Freddy Cougar—an old chick who can totally rock her slutty Halloween costume.”

I
rolled my eyes at Bill before I addressed Tallis. “So you want me to join a gym or what?”

Tallis
shook his head. “Nae. Ah’ve already consigned someone Ah troost ta train ye. Yer first session will begin at midday, today. Then, Ah expect ye ta train at least three times a week. With a proper diet, ye should be in fightin’ mode in two fortnights.”

“Okay,”
I said, heaving a sigh. I’d never enjoyed diets and, consequently, wasn’t very good at maintaining them.

Tallis
took the pot of stew off the fire using only his bare hands. His jaw seemed tight and his eyes narrowed. I wondered if he was feeling any pain from touching the incredibly hot handle, but he didn’t make a sound. It struck me that he was probably intentionally hurting himself as some form of punishment. About a week ago or so, I discovered him bare-chested in the freezing snow, whipping himself with a cat o’ nine tails until blood streamed down his back. After quite a bit of prodding, he’d admitted that he was punishing himself for past transgressions. Tallis Black was seriously messed up.

Taking
out two wooden bowls, Tallis divvied up the stew and placed the pot in his sink, which was no more than a large metal tub that sat on the floor. Beside it were a jug of water and a bar of soap. He glanced down at his palm with curiosity, as if taking stock of the damage done by the scalding pot. From where I stood, I could see that his entire palm was bright red. As I watched, the angry redness began to vanish into his tan skin. Tallis could heal himself because of the warrior spirit who possessed his body. I didn’t know much more about the warrior, because Tallis wasn’t too forthcoming when it came to talking about himself.

He
handed one of the stew-filled bowls to me and the other to Bill. Bill immediately stood up and inspected the contents of my bowl before addressing Tallis and claiming, “Dude, she got more than I did.”

“Aye,”
Tallis answered as he faced Bill squarely. “An’ as Besom has a full day planned, she needs every bit o’ energy.”

Bill
frowned. “I thought you just said she was going on a diet?”

“Bill,”
I chastised him while shaking my head in an attempt to get him to stop whining. I worried that Tallis would freak out on Bill because the angel could be, in a word … annoying. Bill pouted and frowned, but returned to his place at Tallis’s table and ate his stew, making slurping sounds with every spoonful.

“So
tell me about my physical training,” I said to Tallis, who was standing near the front door. I sat in the other chair at his table, across from Bill. Placing my bowl on the roughly hewn wood, I turned my chair around until I was facing Tallis. “I’ll have a personal trainer?”

“Aye.”

“What’s his story?” I continued.

“He
is a demon,” Tallis answered nonchalantly.

“A
demon?” I repeated, with anxiety emerging in my voice. “I thought our main goal was to avoid demons?”

But
Tallis shook his head. “He doesna reside in the Oonderground City.”

“Where
does he live?” I asked.

“Here,”
Tallis answered. “In the Haunted Wood.”

“And
he’s a personal trainer?” I asked, my tone growing dubious. It sounded like the prelude to a bad joke.

“Aye.
He has made it his business ta train Retrievers. An’ he is verra good at what he does.” He paused for a moment or two, but watched me. “Ye are loocky, lass. Not everybody has connections ta Ael.”

“Ael
is his name?” I asked, pronouncing it “Al.”

“Aye,”
he answered.

“Al
don’t sound like no demon’s name to me,” Bill piped up with a mouthful of potatoes.

“An’
does Bill sound like ah name o’ an angel?” Tallis asked, raising his eyebrows with a lofty expression.

“Ha-ha,
very funny, Shrek,” Bill answered, frowning at Tallis. After slurping his last spoonful and swallowing it down, Bill put the bowl and spoon on top of the table. “Done!” he exclaimed as if he’d just won an eating contest. “Any seconds?” he asked Tallis.

“Nae,”
Tallis answered before shaking his head and muttering something about Bill’s appetite being more like that of a pregnant sow.

Since
they were both waiting for me to finish my stew, I shoveled down the last three bites and put Bill’s bowl and my own into Tallis’s “sink.” Picking up the jug of water, I intended to wash our dirty dishes, but Tallis’s hand on my arm stopped me. At his touch, I felt goose bumps break out all over my skin. It was very unusual for Tallis to actually touch me.

“We’ve
wasted enough time,” Tallis announced. “Ah can wash oop later. Now, we practice yer sword fightin’.”

“Hey,
Tido, you mind if I hang back an’ get me a little shuteye?” Bill asked, eyeing Tallis’s bed with undisguised interest. “I’m prexhausted.”

“What?”
I demanded, throwing my hands on my hips. “How can you be exhausted? You haven’t done anything today except eat!”

“Duh!”
Bill responded, shaking his head like I was the one who was slow. “That’s why I said I’m prexhausted, not
exhausted
or
post exhausted
. Just thinkin’ about everything we gotta do today has exhausted me.”

“Aye,
ye can remain ’ere,” Tallis replied. “Boot yer not ta sleep oan mah bed.”

“Blewdy
hell,” Bill answered, doing a poor imitation of Tallis. With a shrug, he headed for the fireplace and sat down on one of the animal furs. Stretching out, he covered himself with another fur before looking up at me. “Since I just ate whatever the hell that shit was, I get Farte Blanche,” he said as he eyed me knowingly. “You hear me, Lil? I get unrestricted power to fart at my own discretion, got it?”

I
just shook my head and looked at Tallis, who faced me. “Yer sword is leanin’ ’gainst the wall, lass,” he said, pointing to a long, narrow object, which was wrapped up in muslin. Tallis had disallowed me from taking my sword back with me to Edinburgh after our last mission. His explanation was that I knew just enough about wielding it to be a danger to myself and others.

Picking
up my sword, I followed Tallis outside. He closed the door behind us and grabbed his own sword from where he’d left it leaning against his house. Heading for the rear of the house with me following closely on his heels, along with the herd of Grevels, I asked, “Where are we going?”

“We
cannae parry here,” he answered as he plodded forward, without offering any more information. Trying to interact with Tallis was what I liked least about him. He wasn’t a talker by any stretch of the imagination. The incessant silence between us always made me uncomfortable. Trying to look at the bright side, I pasted on a smile and started humming “Do I Wanna Know?” by the Arctic Monkeys. Tallis glanced back at me with a furrowed brow that said he didn’t appreciate my humming, but I didn’t care. If he couldn’t politely engage in some form of conversation, then he’d have to tolerate my humming.

When
we reached the same clearing where we’d practiced the first time around, Tallis stopped walking. Some of the Grevels disappeared into the undergrowth, no doubt scouting for God-only-knew what, while the others collapsed beneath the cool shade offered by the nearby trees, and watched us both curiously.

“Ye
can oonbind yer sword from its swathe,” Tallis announced as he pulled the scabbard from his chest and took out his own sword. I, meanwhile, fumbled while trying to unwind the muslin wrap that swaddled my sword, not finding it particularly easy. I heard Tallis’s chuckle and looked over at him in surprise. He rarely smiled or laughed. “Jist stand the sword oop straight, an’ the cloth will drop, Besom.”

I
did as he instructed and, as usual, he was right. The sunlight glinted off the polished blade of my sword and as I held the hilt, a strange feeling overcame me, as if I were being reunited with an old friend. “What type of sword did you say this was again?” I asked Tallis.

“A
Claymore.”

“No,
I mean in Gaelic,” I clarified. “You called it something else.”

“A
claidheamh mhor.”

I
nodded. “Yeah, that was it.” Fastening my eyes on the sword’s undeniable beauty, I allowed my gaze to absorb the essence of it. The sword was long, maybe four feet or so, and featured two handles at the top of the blade. Each handle curved into a honeycomb shape. The hilt was created of wood, which I assumed must’ve come from this very forest. I gripped the hilt tightly and examined the flawless beauty of the blade, unable to restrain my smile.

“Ye
have missed her,” Tallis said. I found him studying me with an expression of curiosity.

“Yes,”
I said, nodding as I beheld my sword again. “It’s beautiful.”

“Aye,”
Tallis said as he nodded. “Boot the look in yer eyes was not one o’ admiration, lass, boot pride.”

“Maybe,”
I said with a shrug. “I am proud of it.”

Tallis
actually smiled. “It pleases meh ta hear it, lass.” I didn’t respond or have to. “We shall begin,” Tallis continued. “Do ye recall yer lessons?”