18

The Rheumakin

"We'll operate under the assumption that the dhampir already contacted Naraka," Ghajan said. "But that doesn't mean he expects us. Who knows how often she comes down here?"

The giant sat against the wall and pulled the back half of a goat from his belt. He dug into the meat, biting straight through the layer of matted, brown fur, and pulled off a large chunk with his tusks. While Ghajan ate, his brother's mouth watered. Onubi said nothing, but his lip twitched.

Even seated, the ettin's head came about a foot higher than Cricket's. The insect searched the dhampir's corpse while the giant ate. Ghajan bit off another chunk of goat, crunching the small bones and tendons with his teeth. While he chewed, Onubi picked at a hangnail, only making it worse. Eventually he just tore it free, leaving a bloody spot on his big toe.

Ghajan finished and tossed a lone femur to the ground, but his stomach still rumbled. Patches wandered up to his side, and when she felt no one was looking, she stuffed the discarded nail in her pouch.

Oydd stood by the underground lake next to his reanimated drake. He stared off across the steaming surface as Cricket approached. "Brimstone," he said. "The yellow minerals, I mean. It's called brimstone or sulfur. But we have to go deeper, and soon we'll see fire."

"I figured out where I know her," Cricket replied.

"Do tell."

"The portrait. In the secret passage where I found my shurikens."

Oydd paused to digest this information. "Ahrose, the baroness." He laughed. "Probably a distant relation, but I'm impressed you recognized her."

"It was when I had lost my memory, so there was a point where it was one of the only things in my brain. I guess that made it memorable."

"So not an ex-girlfriend?" Oydd chided.

"I only said I knew her from somewhere, and I was right!"

The ettin emerged from the tunnel and pointed further down the shore. "It's time to move."

The drake took the lead, followed by the ettin. Ty'lek and the mouseling took the rear.

As they delved deeper into Agoth, the cavern expanded, until Cricket could see for nearly a mile in every direction. Streams of magma poured from distant walls like waterfalls, obscured here and there by fumaroles. A black crust covered the ground. In some areas the crust cracked revealing superheated rock, while in others the surface of the magma was indistinguishable from the cooled rock, save for a slight motion.

Cricket tossed a rock which landed on what he thought was solid rock, but the surface broke upon contact and jets of lava began to spurt from the opening.

The ettin grunted in frustration. "Wizard!"

Cricket looked to Oydd. "I think he's talking to you."

Oydd stepped forward and Ghajan pointed out over the terrain. "Which areas are safe?"

Oydd answered without hesitation, "The vesicles—the little holes in the rock—are a sign of gasses being released upon cooling. If we avoid the smooth rock, we should be safe."

Ghajan barked to the party, again too loudly, "Avoid the smooth patches."

Cricket cringed but didn't dare critique his volume. Patches climbed onto the insect's shoulder, and Cricket could feel the warmth of her paws through his shell. He whispered, "Is it too hot for you? Stay as long as you like."

He watched as the mouseling opened her bulging pack and sorted through numerous items—mostly varying degrees of trash. But his eye caught the opal.

Patches eventually opened up a small pouch and pulled out two tiny pairs of double-soled, lizard-hide boots just her size. She began to slip them on.

"Have you always had those?"

"No, why?" the mouseling asked.

"Well, where'd you get them?"

"I don't know," the mouseling answered, uninterested. She began to close up her pack.

"Is that opal magical?"

"I don't know," the mouseling answered, this time defensively.

"You could have Oydd look at it."

"He'll take it," she whispered, then hopped from the insect's shoulder and scurried off on her boots.

"We're almost there," the ettin announced.

"Almost where?" Cricket looked over at Oydd.

He has a contact.

What kind of contact?

I don't know, Oydd said. But otherwise we could easily get lost down here. We certainly would never find our target. We're not just stumbling around in the dark.

I've never got that metaphor, Cricket commented. Is that supposed to sound hard? Stumbling around in the light would be hard. Then you wouldn't be able to see anything.

It's an idiom! Oydd said, actually a bit excited. It's from the surface... it doesn't make sense without the cultural context. When—

"Here." The ettin approached an obviously well-traveled path and located a main tunnel indicated by claw marks in the lava rock, as well as piles of fish bones and a goblin head on a pike.

"Don't worry," Ghajan sneered. "The rheumakin are friendly."

He proceeded down the tunnel.

Turtles! Cricket practically shouted in excitement.

How did you talk to me? Oydd furrowed his hairless brow.

The link was still open.

No, it was not.

Oydd left his drake, Gad, and the remaining goblin zombie by the entrance, unsure how this culture regarded necromancy.

The group passed two rheumakin guards. The orange turtle men pointed their spears away from the ettin, a sign of friendship, and the giant gestured to the group behind him. As usual, Ghajan spoke. "Getu ahe-aka tu, ne cambri duassos."

The guards nodded and the ettin proceeded, signaling the others to follow.

The main encampment consisted of a large common area surrounding a fire pit, with a number of jars sealed with tar, and around a dozen rheumakin, sitting idly about. A few had their black shells turned to Cricket and he marveled at the metallic glint, which set them apart from other turtles he had met. Several shallow, turquoise pools lined the main chamber. An elderly rheumakin sat soaking in the clear, steaming water—his head stretched out. Layers of loose, tan skin hung from his neck.

One of the men sat behind another and polished his shell until the raised patches shone like a mirror.

"Are their shells made of metal?" Cricket chirped.

"Quiet!" Ghajan scolded.

There is a high iron content in the water here, and thus most of their food sources, Oydd answered.

Will that guy rust?

Oydd had to look around to see who he was referring to.

Obviously not. But I don't know why. I would love to study them.

Ghajan took a seat by the fire pit, which Cricket observed was simply a wall built around a heat vent, and signaled for the others to be seated as well.

A large rheumakin elder, wearing a necklace of goblin bones, poured a brown liquid into a stone bowl and passed it to the ettin. Cricket saw black flecks floating in the murky liquid.

Ghajan drank it down.

What was that? Tea?

Water, Oydd answered.

Cricket stuck out his tongue in disgust, then disguised it by licking his fingers and cleaning his antennae.

"Aju a kenni, du bassa!" The elder, who Cricket assumed was the chief, smiled and slapped the ettin on the shoulder. He gestured to a female behind him and she took the empty bowl and retreated down a side tunnel.

"Aju a deaki..." The elder's face turned serious, and he surveyed the group with a suspicious look before pulling the ettin aside. "Dumi appakan, du bassa?"

The ettin stood and followed the elder. Cricket looked around, unsure how to behave.

Just stay seated for now.

Cricket had an excruciating time sitting still. He began to tap his fingers on his knee and leaned forward trying to see down a side tunnel.

One of the rheumakin next to him noticed the turtle charm hanging from his neck and pointed.

"Eju aki, nmiba?"

"Hmm... oh this?" Cricket held the pendant up for inspection. "Yeah, it's a turtle. My friend made it for me. He got the legs wrong."

The warrior nodded, but by the look on his face, Cricket knew he hadn't understood a word. He looked around again and exhaled slowly in boredom.

Ty'lek appeared equally bored, but entertained himself by preening his feathers, counting his arrows and eventually snapping his beak repeatedly, evidently entertained by the clacking sound.

Cricket watched Patches sitting patiently and leaned over to whisper to Oydd. "If... uh, I had a magic item I wanted to keep, could you tell me what it does?"

"Do you have an enchanted item?" Oydd asked warily.

"It's a hypothetical."

Oydd groaned under his breath, but before he could respond, the ettin returned.

"Come," he ordered as he passed the group, bowing slightly to the guards.

The azaeri hopped to his feet.

Despite his boredom, Cricket grumbled as he stood and brushed the dust from his glossy shell. Then, not quite satisfied, he rubbed his arm over a spot on his leg until it practically sparkled, mimicking the rheumakin.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

He noticed he was falling behind and ran to catch up with Oydd.

The ettin marched unflinching past the undead drake, flinging the goblin from his path as he passed, then headed downhill along the edge of the vast cavern.

At this rate, I'll lose Wax too, Oydd said.

I'm sorry to tell you this, but you already lost Wax. This one's Scab.

Preposterous. Wax is the one with the torn ear.

Ah! I see the problem. Wax used to be the one with the clipped ear... until I renamed them. I thought Scab looked more like a Wax, so I switched them.

In response, Oydd simply groaned.

I told you.

Ghajan brought the group to an area where the ceiling dropped to about a dozen yards. So low that the stalactites and stalagmites met in the middle, forming black, crystalline pillars.

Cricket noted some slimy, blackened bones heaped against the walls. They nearly blended in with the rock. Though he was unsure if he should say something to Ghajan, given his previous attitude.

They came to the end of the chamber, where a recently disturbed pool of lava bubbled and burbled.

"Hmph!" Ghajan laughed and crouched near the edge, gripping his spear tightly.

What? Cricket asked.

Wait.

Fortunately, Onubi broke the silence, echoing the insect's thoughts. "What's here?"

"Quiet, imbecile..."

"There's nothing—"

Ghajan brought his hand around front and gripped his brother's throat. Onubi turned his head up and struggled to breathe.

Slowly Ghajan released his grip. "I know Naraka," he stated. "And he will have to come up for air."

Cricket's eyes grew wide at the implication, and he studied the surface of the lava intently.

After about a minute, a dome appeared in the midst of the pool and rose until Cricket could distinguish it as a head.

Shoulders followed. Cooling magma dripped from the figure's arms, and from a red-hot, two-handed cutlass.

The sword almost instantly cooled to black, while the lava griped and sighed, spitting sizzling bits onto the rock.

Naraka had no eyes. Black plates with a bluish, almost purple sheen covered his elongated face like a smooth mask, as well as his shoulders and chest. Thicker, spiked plates ran down his tail. Two malformed wings flapped limply on his back, shaking molten rock back down into the pool.

"A'gula, Nara'ka!" Ghajan beat his chest with his fist.

"A'gula, Ghara'jan," the demon responded.

Ghajan grinned and threw his spear.

The demon dodged—half-leaping, half-swimming to the side of the pool. Onubi quickly pulled on the chain, yanking the spear back before it fell into the lava. Ghajan caught it and readied another throw, while Naraka climbed up to the ceiling, over the ettin's head.

Ty'lek fired an arrow, which glanced from the demon's chest plates. Still, thin black tendrils spread from the point of impact, only to instantly wither on the heated plate.

Cricket aimed a shuriken, but decided to wait until the demon crawled lower.

Ty'lek fired again, this time for the throat, but the demon blocked with the wide edge of his cutlass.

"Stay up there as long as you like," Ghajan shouted. "We'll see how many arrows you can block."

Naraka climbed along the ceiling back toward the crystalline pillars. Though he easily clung to the rough rock with his powerful claws, his climbing speed was slower than Cricket's running speed and the insect gave chase on the ground.

Meanwhile, the ettin split away from Cricket at full speed, attempting to clear the columns as quickly as possible and flank the demon.

"Get your shuriken," Oydd yelled at the insect.

"He's out of range!"

"No, I mean get out your enchanted shuriken. The blue one."

"No way," Cricket yelled back. "I only have one left!"

Cricket threw his iron shuriken, but it barely nicked the demon's slashing tail as it skittered out of sight around a pillar.

Cricket retrieved the throwing star and inched forward with his sickles raised. He pressed his back to one of the columns as he scanned the nooks of the ceiling.

A small fleck of magma fell past his face, plopping down by his toes.

"Oh, crap!" Cricket looked up just as the demon dropped from the ceiling, pulling back its sword with both hands.

The insect fortified his upper arms with his lower arms and swung with all his strength to deflect the strike. Still the blow overpowered him, and would have crushed his head if he didn't drop and roll.

His arms felt numb from his attempt to parry, and Cricket scrambled to his feet, opting to dodge the next slash instead. Naraka drew back his blade for a third strike.

As Cricket backed up, the demon lashed out with his tail, wrapping around the insect's leg and pulled him in.

Cricket squealed and leapt forward, bringing himself in faster than the demon anticipated, which threw off the timing of its attacl. As the insect stepped away, he slashed out at Naraka's face. The sickle connected with the bluish-black plate where Naraka's eye should have been, leaving a deep gouge.

The demon dropped to one hand just as Oydd's drake tackled it from the side and the two tumbled down an incline.

Cricket put his lower arms on his knees and panted "Thanks," hoping Oydd was close enough to hear, then ran after the drake.

It's adamantite, he heard the rudra's voice. His weapon. It's made of adamantite.

The indestructible stuff?

Virtually indestructible.

By the time Cricket caught up to the drake, Naraka had already pried himself free and sprinted up a pillar.

Cricket heard Oydd's voice again, That means—

I know what it means. When you think the words, I get what they mean. Maybe... a dozen sorcerers could destroy it given enough time.

For a moment, Cricket actually heard Oydd's silence.

Yes... that's exactly the example I was thinking of.

Cricket chased Naraka, but the demon never stopped moving. It swerved as it ran along the ceiling and tried to remain out of sight.

I think I can do that, Cricket said.

Do what?

Climb on the ceiling like that. I have four arms and I'm pretty light weight. Is that stupid?

Stay down here, where we can give you backup. I don't want you to take him one on one.

Cricket sighed, but stayed on the ground. He heard the drake nearby, its throat rumbling threateningly.

Gad stayed back, forming a wall of flesh and iron around the archer, and Scab shambled helplessly nearby, which meant the rudra had likely stopped controlling him to focus on his more powerful minions.

Several yards away, a tail vanished behind a black crystal column. But Cricket barely got a glimpse and thought it might have been the drake. He ran sideways, trying to get a better view, and saw the demon hunched beside one of the last pillars, looking away.

Quite unexpectedly, as he watched, a giant spear wrapped around the pillar, crashing into the demon's throat, pinning it against the column. Ghajan rounded the bend and grabbed onto Naraka with both hands, slamming him repeatedly against the crystal until the entire column had nearly shattered. He dropped the crumpled ruin of the demon on the floor then pulled out a gigantic hunting knife and severed its throat.

Cricket rushed up and sighed in relief. "You got it!"

Onubi smiled, but Ghajan glared at the insect and Cricket tried to adopt a serious expression.

When the ettin started to walk away, Cricket came up to look at the body.

Ghajan retrieved his spear and wiped the black blood off on his tongue.

"Uh... this isn't him."

"What?" the ettin whirled angrily.

"Hold on, don't be upset. But this isn't him."

The ettin charged Cricket and grabbed him by the throat, lifting and holding him against the broken pillar.

"I think there are two," Cricket struggled to speak.

Ghajan hesitated, but loosened his grip.

"I hit one in the face, but this one's face isn't cut. And it doesn't have a sword."

The ettin looked down at the body. Beaten and bruised as it was, the plate over its face remained intact.

He dropped the insect and began to survey the ceiling again.

"There!" Onubi pointed, and a second demon dropped from the shadows.

Oydd and his drake moved to block it, but the demon let out a shrill shriek and the rudra suddenly dropped, convulsing, to the floor. The green light instantly disappeared from the drake's eyes and it collapsed as well.

The demon made a run for the closest lava pit, scrambling over the surface of the dense, molten rock. Ty'lek fired an arrow after it, but the demon nimbly dodged without turning to look.

Ghajan roared and gave chase. He pumped his arms, gaining speed and leapt over the pit in a single bound. The back of his right moccasin grazed the far edge of the lava when he landed, and instantly burned away, leaving the skin beneath a dead, charred white.

The demon began to run over a second lava pit.

Struggling to regain his balance, Ghajan threw his spear at the fleeing demon, impaling its side deep enough that the jagged tip caught bone. It still attempted to run, but the ettin grabbed onto the chain with both hands and began to reel it back across the lava, one heave at a time.

When the squealing, struggling demon came within range, Onubi raised the double-sided hook and brought it down in the demon's gut. It sank deep and he pulled it out, along with a string of viscera, then plunged it in again and again, until he had practically hollowed out the cavity and black gore covered his face and forearm. Still, he lifted the hook, but Ghajan reached out and caught his arm.

Cricket ran to Oydd's side but the rudra was already coming to.

"Oh, good. I thought I'd have to carry you back."

"Touching," Oydd replied.

"That was so loud, I thought it would be worse on you than my screech."

Oydd felt along his sides for his staff then stood slowly. "With yours, it was something to do with the frequency. It hit different. This wasn't so severe."

"Can you bring the drake back?"

"Oh..." the rudra looked at the still corpse. "Not easily. And it won't last like my ghouls. This will rot within a couple of days and be useless."

"What about the demons?" Cricket asked.

The rudra smiled. "I doubt I could reanimate a demon, but the corpses are invaluable."

"Oh, that reminds me," Cricket ran excitedly toward the most recent corpse and found the two-handed cutlass lying atop the lava pit, glowing red.

"Yes," Oydd observed. "That is quite valuable as well."

The rudra raised an arm and the sword floated from the lava to land near his feet.

Almost instantly the metal turned black again.

"It's not enchanted though."

"You're sure?" Cricket asked.

"Positive. I don't even need to look at it. You can't enchant adamantite."

"Oh..." Cricket's antennae drooped, but only momentarily. He gingerly touched the sword as Oydd tried to pull his arm back.

"It's okay. It's already cool."

"Really?"

Cricket picked it up and began to swing around the massive sword, making exaggerated sound effects. "How... uh... how do you think those things were able to see us?"

"My guess would be some kind of heat sensors," Oydd answered.

"But wouldn't that sense get overwhelmed since it had just been under lava? Also, he dodged an arrow without looking."

"Excellent points," Oydd replied, a bit surprised, as he stared at the body.

Ghajan rounded the lava pit and joined the group.

"We're heading out. I told the chieftain we would report back."

"I believe Lord Licephus would be interested in studying this body," Oydd said.

Ghajan grimaced, but ultimately stooped and commanded Onubi to carry it on his shoulders.

Cricket dared to address Ghajan. "Are we sure one of these is Naraka?"

"Yes," the ettin stated coldly and began to walk away.

"Well, all right..." Cricket whispered to Oydd once he thought the ettin was out of earshot. "Wait, where's Patches?"

"I haven't seen her since the rheumakin camp," Oydd said, panicked. "How did you not notice until now?"

Cricket glanced behind them. "Yeah... let's check there first."

Ghajan marched back to the camp without a word, and—seeing the demon slung over his shoulder—the turtles met him with excitement and commotion.

They found Patches in the commons, sorting through some brightly colored pebbles. She placed a green one and a purple one in her pouch but continued to look over the remaining stones.

The chieftain welcomed them back and served everyone slightly charred, slightly steamed fish, then they sat in the main hall again as three warriors in azaeri masks danced to a panpipe and the old man in the hot spring watched, clapping his hands offbeat. Cricket found the woman playing the panpipe quite attractive for a turtle.

Before they left, the elder brought out three bright red eggs with soft but leathery shells, each about the size and shape of Cricket's head. Ghajan took two, and Cricket happily grabbed the last.

As they began the long trek home, he speculated what would hatch from it.

"It's meant to be eaten," Oydd explained.

"Maybe a dragon, or a griffon!"

"Maybe a worm," Oydd said. "That's more likely since it's a worm egg."

"What?"

"There are some truly massive tunneling worms in parts of Agoth that feed on rock. Their eggs are considered a delicacy."

"That's so cool!" Cricket whisper-shouted, to avoid bothering the ettin. "A pet worm!"

"You can't be serious? It won't hatch. If you don't eat it, it will go to waste."

"Did you want to eat it?"

"I'm good," Oydd answered. The azaeri, however, nodded excitedly, but Cricket pretended not to notice.

"I got to name the zombies, so I think I'll let Jesh name this one."