“So you’re telling me, this whole time, Oz the fish head pilfering bin demon has been sheltering this Pixie and the Diamond?”

“Maybe not the whole time,” Ridley said, flicking his dog end out of the cab’s window and sparked another smoke. “But probably since it killed Benny.”

“But why?”

“Who knows. I can’t see Oz being much of an evil megalomaniac who plans on using the Diamond to conquer the Forest. I also don’t think he has much use for gold. But it all makes sense.”

“It does?”

“It makes sense how the Pixie has stayed off our radar for so long. If Oz has been sheltering it, the Pixie could have been moving around right under our noses the whole time. And it explains how a Pixie who’s never stepped foot in this city has managed to survive with a massive chunk of priceless rock on the streets. Also, it explains what Oz was doing in the Iron district when those lads got blown up.”

Nairo’s eyes widened.

“I’d completely forgotten about that!”

“It didn’t sit right with me at the time. Oz is usually shifty but I’ve never seen him look so guilty. I reckon the Pixie gave him the slip and he was out looking for it when the Diamond went off…”

“The smell!” Nairo cried out, making Ridley jump.

“What?”

“The smell… remember the Trolls in lock up said there was a horrible smell under the bridge just before the bang!”

“Right. So Oz was either near…”

“Or the Pixie stank because it had been around Oz for so long!”

Ridley looked at her and nodded.

“It can't be so simple but it has to be. All along! Oz was the first creature we spoke to and he had all the answers. When I catch that little shit I’m gonna wring his filthy little neck.”

“You really want to put your hands on him?” Nairo said remembering the sickly stench of rot that emanated in waves from the bin demon.

“You’re right. I’ll just chuck him in the river in a sack with a brick.”

“No. We’ll bring him to justice for his role as an accomplice in several murders.”

“You ain’t representing the law on this case no more, Sarge.” Ridley said, the word ‘Sarge’ dripped with sarcasm.

“Maybe not. But the law still exists and when we track down the Pixie and Oz, they’ll both be handed over to appropriate authorities.”

“Aye aye Sarge.”

There was a bang on the cab roof letting them know the Wastelands were approaching, although that was unnecessary since the putrid smell of the dumps was already filling the cab. Getting across to the West had been simpler this time around as they had gone through the city proper. Using Nairo’s credentials, they had been able to cross the police barricade and circumvent the Landlord’s checkpoints on the bridge. Even so, the sun was already starting to wane by the time they had arrived. The city had been full of chatter about another night of riots and this one seemed to be the big one. Every faction in the city was gearing up to bear arms and tear chunks from one another. It had taken no small amount of bribery and threats for them to find a cabbie willing to travel at this time.

“Anybody tailed us?” Ridley shouted to the cabbie.

“No sir. I been checking. Chucked a couple odd lefts and rights and no one followed.” The cabbie yelled back.

“Good man!” Ridley slumped back into his seat after checking through the back flap of the cab.

“You really think the Heap King is going to help us track down Oz?” Nairo said as the smell intensified.

“No idea but we don’t have a choice. No way we’re gonna track down a single bin demon without help and unless you got another contact in the Wastelands, that fruitcake king is our only hope.”

“I know, but he gives me the shivers,” Nairo said, remembering the demented scenes in the tent like some half forgotten nightmare.

They pulled up to the little ramshackle hovel town and made a beeline for the Heap King’s tent. Ridley banged on the door and they waited. After a few seconds the panel slid back and a pair of bloodshot yellow eyes glared at them.

“Remember us?” Ridley said to the eyes.

There was a blurry spark of recognition and then a slow nod.

“Good. Tell your boss we’re here to see him on business.”

The panel slammed shut again. Ridley and Nairo waited outside, trying not to make eye contact with the flotsam that composed the town's dwellers. A few terse minutes passed before the door opened and they were ushered in by the crippled Gnome with the cutlery trident. He lumbered before them, leading them through the tent. There were bodies slumped everywhere. The fire had died out leaving the foul stench of smoke and unwashed bodies.

“Damn, looks like we missed the party,” Ridley muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

The Gnome led them to the Heap King’s throne where the massive, misshapen Troll was hunched over tearing at a charred rat on a stick. He was nose deep in the creature's guts, sucking and gnashing at the grisly meat. Nairo clenched her jaw as she felt the bile rise in the back of her throat.

“Yer most majestic highness,” the Gnome squeaked. “These two Humans have come to seek your most noble personages.”

“We have?” Ridley said, nonplussed.

Nairo elbowed him in the ribs.

“Good evening, your highness.” Nairo gave him a curtsy and then glared at Ridley until he offered the Heap King a stiff bow.

The Troll looked up from his rat supper, his mouth stained red, and glared at them.

“Youse the polleeeese?” the Heap King growled.

“I…”

“She’s as crooked as the days long,” Ridley said, waving a dismissive hand. “We both work for Ruf’gar.”

Nairo blinked in surprise and looked at Ridley.

“Oh… yes… right. Umm, we work for… the Goblins.”

The Heap King scowled at them. He wiped blood from his mouth with a gnarled hand and then grinned toothlessly at them.

“Rufi always say he has the poleese in his pockets.” The Heap King barked and then gave out a yipping laugh that his remaining conscious followers joined in with. “So wot you wants? Where Rufi?”

“That’s why we’re here,” Ridley said. “You’ve heard about what happened to Uncle Sam?”

The Heap King’s piggy little eyes widened and he nodded his head solemnly.

“The King hear the Elves taken him.”

“Right. We need your help to clear his name.”

“The King will do anyfin’ for Sam’sun Uncle!” The Heap King slammed his half eaten rat down, spraying innards across his arm and chair.

“We need to find a bin demon,” Ridley said. “He goes by the name Oz.”

“A bin demon?” The Heap King growled and pursed his lips thoughtfully before signalling to the little Gnome to come to him. They held a brief whispered exchange in some guttural tongue Nairo didn’t recognise. The Heap King nodded his head and then turned to Nairo and Ridley again. “This is much difficult. The Mushtaris be living in the Deep Heaps. They be a most dangerous peoples.”

“Really?” Ridley said sceptically.

“Most dangerous,” The Heap King repeated. “My Kingdom no go so far as the Deep Heaps. I cannot helps you.”

“You’re not helping us, you’re helping Uncle Sam,” Ridley said.

The Heap King squirmed uncomfortably in his throne.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“The King would do anyfin’ for Sam’Sun Uncle, but the territory of the Deep Heaps must be respected. This not the City, this the Wasteland, the rules is sacred.”

“Then tell us where we need to go and we’ll go,” Nairo said.

“You, go to the Deep Heaps?” The Heap King said. He looked around at his followers and then burst into laughter. “You be skinned and eaten before youse get anywhere nears them!”

The creatures around them tittered and snickered with their leader.

“You don’t know wot lives in the darkness of the Deep Heaps! Monsters and ghouls! The Whiggets and the Wogglers! They crunch yer bones and bash yer skulls! The Hukgar and the Demon Serpents! They suck yer eyeballs out and eat yer entrails like noodles. The Mowi-Mowi will trap yer souls in agony for all eternity! ” The Heap King said in a sing-song voice, the mania rising in his eyes again. “Yer don’t know wot yer asking! The monsters rule in the Deep H…”

“Enough!” Nairo roared, cutting through the rising chants and cackling. The tent fell silent. “You have no idea who you’re speaking to and you have no idea what we’ve been through. We’ve brawled with Minotaurs, Goblins and politicians! I’ve been beating bloody no less than half a dozen times in less days. I’ve been demoted. I’ve been lied to and lied about. I’ve seen friends suffer. I’ve watched them scrape the guts of innocents from the cobbles. I’ve turned my back on those things that I thought could never be wrong! No ghouls and made up monsters frighten me! You know what frightens me? The city is about to tear itself to pieces. Bodies will line the streets! Innocents will be caught up in the madness and it will be the hard working citizens of the city that suffer the most! That’s if the whole place doesn’t get blown sky high before that! Millions of lives are at risk and you, you fucking overstuffed bin bag, are the only thing standing in the way of us stopping that from happening. So I suggest you cut the mumbo jumbo crap you use to scare the tourists and tell me where I can find Oz the fucking bin demon and I suggest you do it now before I wear you like a fucking glove! Is that understood?”

Silence.

Nairo had advanced on the Troll at some point. Veins bulged in her neck and forehead. Her eyes glistened with the promise of violence. Her fists were clenched so hard her knuckles had bleached white. The Heap King looked at her wordlessly.

“Yer can’t speak to the King like that you bit…” the Gnome began indignantly.

Ridley kicked the little creature so hard in the face he sent him skittering across the room.

“You sure about that?” he growled and then rounded on the Heap King.

The Heap King looked suddenly frail and unsure of himself.

“Hold on wait… I din’t mean nuffin’ by it…”

“Where’s the bin demon!” Nairo growled through gritted teeth.

“I show you! I show you!” The Heap King said, raising his hands to defend himself from Nairo’s palpable wrath.

“Good. Let’s go then.” Nairo stepped back and straightened her tunic.

*

Less than ten minutes later they were in one of the Heap Kings cobbled together cabs, trundling towards the looming heaps of the Wasteland. The sun had set and the moon gleamed, full and bright, over the mountainous piles of rubbish. The Heap King said little to them. Every now and again he would twitch the stained curtains on the cab’s window, peering into the darkness and muttering to himself. The cab pulled to a grinding halt at a three way junction. The smell had become so thick it felt like a physical taste in Nairo’s mouth. It was sickly sweet with tangible rot and decay.

“Why have we stopped?” Nairo asked him.

“This the end of my kingdom,” The Heap King replied. “After this is the true Wastelands. We no go further.”

Nairo was about to argue until she saw the abject fear of the King’s grizzly face. Whether the stories of ghouls and ghosts were real or not, there was definitely some out here that terrified the Troll.

“Where will we find the bin demons?”

“Please miss polleeese, do not go into the Heaps. Many bad creatures is in there.”

“Where are the bin demons?” Nairo repeated.

The Heap King sighed and scratched at the flaky dandruff on the side of his head.

“The Mushtaris is deep in the Heaps. Go north and keeps going until you find the Golden Lake. They lives around it. But they don’t likes outsiders, even the King is not welcome.”

“North until we find a Golden Lake,” Nairo repeated. “Sounds simple enough.”

The Troll shook his head and looked away from her.

“C’mon Sarge,” Ridley said, opening the door to the cab.

“Wait!” The Heap King said. He reached under the seat and pulled out a small sack. “You wear this. It helps wiv the smell.”

He handed two soaking wet strips of some heavy cloth to them.

“Why is it wet?” Ridley asked him, looking dubiously at the cloth.

“Soaked in Petris leaf,” The Heap King said. “The smell is too much for you city dwellers deep in the heaps. Will make you sickly.”

Ridley sighed and accepted the cloth, shuddering as he tied it around his face. Nairo pulled hair back into a loose bun and tied her own one on. It actually smelled, somewhat pleasant if a bit too sickly, like flowers just about to go rotten. It worked though. The powerful stench of the Wastelands disappeared almost immediately. She adjusted the wet rag and then nodded to Ridley.

“Go with good luck miss Polleeese man,” The Troll bowed his head and held his hand up palm facing skywards.

Nairo looked at Ridley, who shrugged and high-fived the Troll. They stepped out of the cab and looked at the mountains before them.

“Now we’re wading through a literal pile of human waste,” Ridley said.

“Yep,” Nairo said.

Even with the shining moon, it was still almost pitch black in the shadows of the Heaps. At first, there was a discernible path through them but as they progressed the path disappeared and they found themselves hiking through piles and piles of refuse until it all eventually became one giant pile. There didn’t seem to be a logic to the Heaps. Just more and more rubbish had been heaped on top of the old until the ground was no longer visible. Some Heaps were made up of rotten food, others of sharp pointy things that scratched and jabbed at them, others were collections of boxes, toys, broken furniture, torn clothes, shattered bricks, decaying wood, and every other manner of refuse from the city.

Nairo and Ridley had resorted to single file hiking. They bent forward as the incline of the Heaps steepened, carefully testing where they put their feet, lest one of the piles gave way and they found themselves in a sinkhole. Being smothered to death by thousands of tonnes of trash was not an ideal end to their heroic adventure. As they reached the peak of each Heap, the moonlight aided their traversal but in the valleys they shuffled through near complete darkness. Maybe half a mile into the Heaps was when they began to hear the noises. Scratching, clawing, guttural screeches, howls, and the sounds of something thick and slimy slithering by them. Nairo’s whole body was soaked in sweat and her mouth had gone completely dry. She dared not say a word to Ridley, she didn’t even want to breathe too loudly. She felt that familiar sense of being watched. But she couldn’t worry about who or what was around them, she had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other as the Heaps were becoming more treacherous the deeper they went.

“Sarge!” Ridley screamed from behind her.

Nairo spun to see Ridley disappear behind her. She scrambled back to see Ridley clutching by one hand to a piece of wood, his body hanging over a hollow in the Heap. Nairo grabbed his wrist and grunted and strained to pull him back up. Ridley dug his feet into the side of the Heap and pushed himself back over the precipice. Together they sat breathing heavily and staring at the slowly expanding sinkhole.

“I don’t wanna die like this,” Ridley panted. “Not out here.”

“We’re not going to die,” Nairo said.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, remember the Gnome witch said you would die in a toilet.”

“Well, this is a massive pile of shit. Maybe she wasn’t being literal.”

“Come on. We just have to keep going.” Nairo stood up shakily and helped Ridley to his feet. “Look!” Nairo pointed between two Heaps. There was a shimmering of moonlight on something. “That must be the Golden Lake! We’re not far now.”

Doggedly, they began trudging back down the Heap taking extra care over where they stepped. They were near the bottom of the Heap when she heard something slither right by them and felt the trash shift by her boot.

“What was that!” Ridley hissed from behind her.

Nairo looked over her shoulder.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was just the pile shifting.”

Nairo peered around in the darkness. There it was again! She was sure she saw the flick of tail disappearing into the Heap.

“I don’t like this,” Ridley murmured, looking left and right trying to catch sight of the creature again.

“Keep moving,” Nairo whispered to him, taking another step down the pile when she felt a sudden squeeze on her ankle.

“It’s got me!” Nairo shrieked.

In the darkness all she could see was something writhing and coiling itself up her leg.

“What the fuck is that?” Ridley howled.

Instinctively, Nairo reached down and grabbed the thing. She felt a sharp pain in her hand, like two needles piercing her flesh. She screamed. In a flash of moonlight she saw the creature’s reptilian head. Its jaws stretched too wide as it sunk its fangs into the back of head. It coiled its body around her leg and squeezed. Nairo stumbled and fell. Nairo and the snake tumbled down the rest of the Heap. Things cut and stabbed Nairo as she rolled, the snake squeezing so hard she thought her leg would shatter. Nairo tried to pull her hand free but the snake bit down harder. She saw the moonlight reflected in the two black beads of its cold merciless eyes.

“Ridley!” Nairo screamed as the snake tried to coil its way further up her body.

Ridley stumbled down after them. He had grabbed a broken metal pole on the way. Skittering to a halt he swung the pole at the snake’s body. In the darkness it was hard to see what he was hitting so he just kept swinging. He battered the snake’s thick, powerful body but it would not relent. It continued to squeeze and bite. Nairo was sure she was about to pass out. Her head swam. Ridley spun the pole around and gripped it like a spear.

“Hold still, Sarge!”

He stabbed the broken end of the pole down at the snake’s body. He stabbed it three more times before the coils finally slackened. The snake released Nairo’s hand and fell away from her leg, hissing at them as it slithered away into the darkness and disappeared.

Nairo sat up and cradled her bleeding hand to her chest.

“You alright?” Ridley said, readjusting the cloth around his mouth, the pole still in his other hand in case the snake returned.

“Was that a snake?” Nairo said, her face ghostly white.

“A massive one. Let me see your hand.”

Nairo held up her bloody hand.

“Shit.” Ridley breathed. He reached into his coat and produced a small hip flask. “We need to clean it out before it gets infected.”

“Do you think it was poisonous?” Nairo asked numbly, pain and shock creating a temporary log jam into her brain, making her feel strangely calm.

“I dunno. I don’t think so. I remember reading somewhere that if they squeeze they ain’t poisonous,” Ridley mumbled as he gently poured alcohol over the bite, cleaning it out. He then tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of his shirt and wound it around her hand.

“Ridley?”

“Yeah Sarge?”

“Why is there a massive fucking snake in here?”

“I dunno Sarge.”

“Ridley?”

“Yeah Sarge.”

“Do you see those glowing eyes or is it the poison?”

“What?”

Ridley looked over his shoulder and saw glowing eyes in the Heap. They were everywhere and staring directly at them.

“Ah shit.”