The Boulder Beast lumbers towards us. I don’t have a stomach, but I still feel queasy at the thought of how easily it could mangle Jenna and Synt. With a single thought, I will my skeletal hand that’s holding my mace to break off and fly at the Beast.
I’m getting better at this. My hand instantly flies at the Boulder Beast and *clunk* the mace makes contact with its rocky head. But it doesn’t leave a dent. I’d better lie and distract the beast.
“Oi, rockhead!” I call. “I’m the one who’s got Zarath’s old sword. I’m going to kill him. If you don’t catch me right now, I’ll get away with the ultimate weapon!” I wave my opal studded dagger. Hopefully the Beast isn’t sharp enough to realise this can’t possibly be Zarath’s sword.
“The sword! Give it, or I’ll break every bone in your body!” Says the Beast in its grinding voice.
“Catch me!” I call.
I scuttle away while the Beast lumbers down the hill. I know there are marshes and meres nearby. If I can just lure the beast there. I can hover and float better if I’m broken into bits, so I will myself to spring apart so that my skull, limbs and torso are all separate. The bits of me now jiggle and clatter about on the stony slope as I keep just ahead of the Beast.
I float into the air, just a skull with flaming hair now, leaving my other bits rolling and dragging themselves along the path. I turn back defiantly and call to the Beast: “Come on, hurry up!”
Will this work? Ah, here’s where the marshes begin! My bony bits all float and hover just above the surface.
“Come on, Beast!” I yell.
The Boulder Beast lunges and then finds itself sinking into the mere, its huge weight putting it as a disadvantage as the bog swallows it up. It roars and struggles, but soon it’s completely submerged.
Phew! I pull myself together and make my way back to Synt’s campfire. Jenna and Synt are clasping hands now and gazing into each other’s eyes. “There is nothing I cannot follow, and nothing I cannot shoot,” says Synt in a jovial voice.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
They look round as I come scuttling up to the fire.
“There, you see? She got rid of the Boulder Beast for us,” says Jenna.
“I hope you can forget your prejudice against skeletons now, Sir,” I say. Will this fire warm my bones? I sit close to it and reach out my skeletal hands, but I don’t feel any different.
“We shall see,” says Synt.
“Doesn’t her quest show that she’s good?” asks Jenna. “I think we should help her.”
“Hm,” says Synt.
“I’d be grateful if you’d come with me for part of the way,” I say. “Um…”
“You want company?” says Jenna, touching my bony arm with her gloved hand.
I nod. “I can help you too. I don’t really need to sleep. My husband found that out on our wedding night. So I can keep watch while you sleep near the fire.”
“Huh. I shall keep awake too,” says Synt.
But soon Synt is asleep as well. He looks so peaceful I don’t wanna disturb him. I carefully drape a blanket over him so he doesn’t get cold.
There’s a flapping of wings and a flickering glow appears in the darkness. I know what it is. It’s a fire imp.
It lunges at us. “Buzz off!” I tell it. I send my hands floating through the air and they batter the little demon until its fires go out.
At dawn, Sym begins to stir.
I lean my face close to his. “Wake wakey, sleepyhead.”
He yells at the sight of me and sits bold upright. I giggle. “You slept like a widdle baby. You were at my mercy all night while I kept watch. Will you trust me now?”
He grumbles and wakes Jenna.
Now it’s time to go to the haunted lake.
The three of us make our way over the brow of the hill that leads down to the lake. There is a deathly silence in the valley and hardly a ripple breaks the surface of the dark, mist-covered water which stretches into the distance.
“There’s nothing there,” says Synt. “There’s no movement on the lake.”
“No, look,” I say.
There’s something drifting slowly to the southern shore where we are. There is a raft with robed figure on it. As the raft drifts closer we can see the cursed skeleton of Lult sitting motionless on the raft, clutching the sword, as he has done for twenty years. He is a bare skeleton, wrapped in a black, hooded robe. The sword is magnificent, clearly razor sharp and the hilt is set with rubies.
Synt points. “That truly is the stuff of nightmares. I don’t even want to imagine what it must be like to exist as a skeleton.”
“Yeah, thanks so much,” I say sourly. “Lult? Lult? Ancient warrior, I’ve come to take your burden away. I wanna break your curse. Give me the sword. Please? Lult?”