Crysalis: Merrill's Tale

Darwin and Newton

“Stop, evil one!” came yells too close behind me.

Yah, as if that was likely to happen. I knew if I stopped, I’d end up either drowned in s**t, crushed under piles of rocks or, seeing how short they were on protein, the main course of tomorrow’s supper. And I hated the idea of sharing a pot with turnips.

Then someone grabbed the hem of my robe and jerked.

I fell, of course, trying to twist so I wouldn’t hit my head on rock or fall into a pit full of s**t. I managed to land on my hip and shoulder instead. A sharp pain shot through me, but not from the rock. I’d landed on the folded table in my pocket. I felt the fragile reeds crumble beneath me as I scrambled to my feet. I made a grab at my belt and had a knife in each hand.

“You…might want…to rethink…this,” I said, gasping for breath. I fell into a protective crouch and made sure they could see my knives. “If you…know how…to think at all.”

Naturally, it was Arn the five-toothed bruiser who’d reached me first. I saw no reason to wait for reinforcements, so I slashed out with one knife.

He looked down in amazement at the line of blood that had suddenly appeared across his chest. The other two skidded to a stop, but well behind him, I was glad to see.

“Take the Evil One, Arn,” the head man urged from his comfortable safe distance. “Do not fear her powers, for we are the Chosen Ones of Ghool.”

Dammit, they weren’t even out of breath.

Also, chosen or not, Arn wasn’t buying it. Who could blame him? After all, he was the one who was bleeding, though not enough for real danger. Still, he probably didn’t know that.

Time to up the worry quotient.

“Can Drool take poison away?” I asked, brandishing my knives, which twinkled even in the dim light.

“Ghool!” shouted the head man. “Do not blaspheme! Ghool is mighty!”

Ghool’s Chosen, on the other hand, were stupid. They’d both crept up and stood in a straight line a few steps behind the bleeding Arn, Barst on one side of him, Frad on the other. I slid one knife back into its sheath and grabbed a triangle, each point as sharp as a needle. I’m not as good at throwing them as the boys are, but I’m not bad. I flicked the shiny bit of metal and had another in hand before it reached its target.

Frad yowled in pain and fear. I’d just missed his left eye; the triangle stuck out above his eyebrow. Barst turned to look at what had his boss screaming.

Distraction is ninety-nine percent of magic.

I tucked my weapons away and ran.

Not, unfortunately, in the direction the boys and I had planned our escape, back when we first came to the village. This was nowhere near the way we’d come into town. I at once began to suspect, after I heard panting behind me again, that this was not the way I wanted to go.

A low jumble of rocks rose to my right and left with a narrow defile between them, marking the end of turnip and the beginning of a rougher run. I speeded up, trusting the boys.

Not much choice. I had to trust them.

But I didn’t feel too comfortable running into what appeared to be an open corridor between slippery piles of rock.

“Psst!”

I took as deep a breath as I could manage in relief.

Finally. Darwin and Newton.

The little mutts must have circled around to cut us off, though how they knew which way I’d be running was beyond me. I hadn’t even known…ah. They’d watched, planned and done their sneaky thing.

“Watch your step!”

Just then, I saw a lighter strip against the dark rock. I was careful to step over it, making sure nothing touched or got caught on it.

Then I slowed ever so slightly, to give the men behind me hope that I was tiring.

Actually, it wasn’t much of a hope. I was tiring.

“We have her now!” came a bellow.

Then more bellows, but no words this time.

I skidded to a stop and turned.

My three pursuers were a jumble of dirty arms and legs and fluent curses, everything tumbled together and trapped in the loops and whirls of a wire mesh net.

From somewhere above, I heard Darwin and Newton giggling.