Descending Dragon - Chapter four

The creatures were hard to see in the dark. The ones near the torchlight were small and red-skinned with little horns like goats on hairless skulls, flesh pulled tight on malformed bones. They hissed and whined like angry cats.

I charged and clubbed the first clean off his feet.

Human or not, bone did what it did against iron. I heard the sound and then the splatter and the little villain lay flat and didn’t move. After that, things got wild.

Light and flame squinted my eyes, little puffs and jets shooting out from maybe the creature’s mouths as they hissed. My heart pounded and for a moment I feared they’d half burned me alive until I realized it must have come up short. I stepped forward and clubbed another of the bastards into a messy heap. The rest turned and ran.

“Sam! Sammy!”

I stepped over the open eyes of Stewart Miller’s head, most of the flesh on his arms chewed off. Then suddenly I was chasing demons down into the Delve with a metal stick.

They left the torch behind, and as the light dimmed I recognized more and more I was running into the dark without a plan or a clue. Even dragging Suzie the creatures were fast. I heard their claws and little shrieks up ahead, rounding another corner further away than when they’d started. I stopped and looked back at the light, then ahead to the gloom, my hand hard around the metal grip.

I knew it, then, hard as it was to swallow: I couldn’t catch them. Not in the dark. Not like this.

“Hold on, Suzie!” I shouted. “I’m coming. We’re coming for you!”

Why they’d killed the others and not her I had no idea. I couldn’t process that any more than I could yet imagine the world where boys I knew were corpses and not living in Tristwood. I looked through the morbid pile for Willy and Leggy and thanked the gods when I found neither. But I had to go back. It wasn’t fear, I told myself again and again. I needed help.

I jumped as a horse walked in the darkness.

Hooves clacked against stone fast and steady, like men hammering nails. The imps were shrieking up ahead, answered by a low, sharp moan like a dying man impatient for death.

Little hairs stood up all over my body. The clack clack clacking became a roar, and the stone tunnel echoed with thunder as dust shook from the ceiling. I was running before it rounded the corner.

I looked back only once and in the dark saw a thing hunched and scuttling down the corridor, too many legs to be a horse, spread circular like a spider. I saw human heads on its front. I don’t know how many. They were sticking out from a bulbous black body, above them distended jaw like mandibles dripping with ooze. I saw enough.

I flew out from the entrance of the mine, leaping from that corridor without a thought to where I’d land. I tripped over the stairs and tumbled forward, crying out as I turned to see if the creature would follow.

My heart pounded, hands sweating as I stared into the dark.

The clacking stopped. I saw shadows shift inside and heard another low moan. One yellow eye appeared then vanished as the creature turned, hooves hammering like a team of smiths until the sound faded back into the dark. I sat panting, inspecting myself for patches of burnt or cut skin that maybe nerves and fear had kept me from feeling.

 “Shit,” I said, blinking and otherwise lost for words, hoping to speak out loud might help.

The bottom of my pants were stained red with the blood and gore of boys I’d known all my life. My heart slowed, and a coughing fit struck, leaving me there feeling miserable and like a coward for leaving Suzie like I did.

I considered picking up my one torch and running back inside, but I knew it was foolishness. I needed more men, weapons, supplies. The men would want Suzie back, I was sure of it. Franker and Pliney and their boys would come along, partly for revenge, and together we’d get her back. It was the right thing, the smart thing, I knew that.

Even so I stood there, telling myself this was real and I had to get up and help. After a little while that seemed like forever, I turned back towards Tristwood, not sure how I’d tell folk about a room full of dead sons, and a daughter lost to the dark.

*

“Get the hell out of my way.”

I’d lost my meager charm at the edge of town, then marched straight up to the houses and provisioner’s store all stuck together in a compound. Franker’s hired thugs were being their usual selves, acting like the bored pricks they were and barring the way.

“He’s busy,” said Jacob, the pack leader, with a lazy grin. I closed my eyes and thought of Suzie getting pulled further and further down into the dark, no idea how far the Delve truly went, and I punched the bastard hard and square. He dropped like a stone.

I stomped away as the others were crowding up for a fight, past Harmon’s smithy and straight to his house before I kicked open the door. The big man was hammering one of his wives instead of his iron, right there in the hallway, and she shrieked and pulled the leather apron she was wearing to cover herself then dashed into the next room. Harmon turned with the wide eyes of a man who couldn’t believe he’d been disrupted.

“At least five kids in town went into the Delve and got themselves killed or taken. Suzie went with them. She got dragged inside.”

As I stood there panting with the biggest man in town, his pants ‘round his ankles, I couldn’t say exactly what I expected.

Disbelief, maybe. Anger. Accusations I’d made the whole thing up. Harmon’s eyes drooped back to their half-lidded shape, and he tied up his pants.

“Then she’s gone, boy. Leave it alone.”

I blinked, off kilter enough I put my hand on the wall.

“Didn’t you hear me? At least two of your boys are dead. The others missing. Suzie is taken.”

Harmon’s lids flared then drooped as he waved a hand. “There’s plenty of young, stupid bastards in this town. Too many. Who the hell’s surprised or worried if a few got killed. Didn’t think so many of my boys was so foolish, but there it is. Now get out of my house.”

I trembled, anger rising until I felt like the lid on some old bubbling pot. “I need you and yours. We’ll go after them together. With five good men, and proper gear, if we move quick we…”

Harmon laughed, the sound rushed, as if it had been dragged out of him, and I couldn’t remember ever hearing it. He shook his head. “Everyone knows your Tristwood’s golden boy, Sammy. Don’t you worry. You ain’t like those useless bastards. You just fight that cough of yours and keep on being strong and soon enough you’ll get yourself a wife.” The big man smiled. “Hell, you’ll get more than one.”

Something about the man’s smile made me sick to my stomach.

“I’ll go tell Franker. We’ll see if he thinks his niece ain’t worth saving.”

I turned and threw open the door, Franker’s chief thug leaned against the shop with a broken nose and an eye half shut staring daggers. Harmon’s voice rang behind me.

“Go ahead and tell him, kid. Maybe you’ll learn something.”

I crossed the dirt road from the smith’s to the broker’s, the few bruisers following but leaving me alone. My head ached and my hands tingled with the urge to pull out that mace and bash some damn heads, but I realized somehow I’d dropped the thing as I fled the mine. Harmon was a cold son of a bitch. I knew that. So was Franker, but if there was any kind of mayor in this town it was him, and Suzie was one of his favorites. He wouldn’t just leave her for dead. He wouldn’t.

I found him pouring a bottle of Pa’s whiskey into two cups, his chief bruiser slinking out the back.

“Sam Hardin, in the flesh. What can I do for you, son?”

Mr. Franker looked troubled to see me, maybe even nervous. That made little enough sense but I didn’t have time to work it out.

“Sorry Mr. Franker but it’s no occasion for politeness. Suzie and a half dozen others are in the Delve. Some died already. I’d like some men to help me get the rest.”

The old merchant frowned like a man lost in thought, hand tugging at his goatee. He sat at the edge of his desk as if the news hit him hard, and I suppose I should have found it comforting. I didn’t.

“Always the right occasion for politeness. Now listen.” Mr. Franker was always telling you to listen, as if when he spoke it was finally time. “On account of your father, and you being a good lad, I’ll hear you out and ignore the fact you struck my man. But I find what you said rare hard to believe.”

“I’m not a liar.” I was still trying to be civil. “And I’ve just been down there and found the bodies. They went after the rubes, hoping to steal what they could before the…” ‘Corpse-robbing’ wasn’t exactly on Mr. Franker’s’s official list of responsibilities. “…before anyone else got the chance.”

The sometimes mayor of Tristwood frowned and squinted as if my words had slapped him. He paced before he settled and blew out a breath.

“Listen, son, I’m going to tell you a hard truth now.” He put a slimy hand on my arm. “We only need so many men in this town.” It must have been clear by my expression this wasn’t building rapport. “Now, just wait, I know. I know how it sounds, but there it is. Most of the boys in this town are damned useless mouths to feed.”

I watched him a little while, the practiced dullness in his eyes, the near acted movement he’d showed. I finally realized.

“You knew.” I could see right away it was true. “You…encouraged them somehow. Made it sound like a good plan.”

Franker’s old, comforting smile faded, his squinted eye twitching with his limbs. “You and I both know only the worst fools would believe it, and we don’t need a pack of fools, do we?”

My friends are down there, I thought but didn’t say. And your niece. And boys you’ve known their whole lives.

“And Suzie?”

He showed at least a speck of shame.

“Now we don’t know for sure what’s happened. Let’s give it a few hours.”

“I saw their heads.” I’ll admit I’d raised my voice. “I watched creatures with horns and claws dragging Suzie into the damn mine.”

I almost mentioned the giant spider but thought better of it.

Mr. Franker shook his head, his hands twitching slightly as he shrugged. “Terrible business. Unfortunate, no doubt. But there’s nothing to be done.”

“We can go get her. You, me, and your men, some of Hardin’s. Let’s go right now.”

“She was a good girl,” the man took a drink of his whiskey and started pacing, his eyes snapped up firm on mine. “But the town’s got others, don’t we?” He blinked and wiped his brow with a cloth, chuckling out of one side of his mouth as he turned affable again. “Nasty business. Not worth another word, eh? Let’s forget it now and have a drink.”

“No, thank you,” I managed, knowing it was all a waste of time.

“Listen,” he licked his lips. “Like I said, we only need so many in this town. It’s cleaner this way. But you’re one of the good ones. Everyone knows that. I’ve got other kin, and you’ll need a wife, cough or no. You’ve lived this long, right? We’ll work something out.” He smiled encouragingly, and when I didn’t say no he put a hand on my shoulder. I decided I’d burn the shirt later.

“We’ll work something out,” I said, and his weak, round shoulders sagged in relief.

“Good boy. Now go get a drink, soothe your nerves. I know what you saw down there must have been hard.”

“Yeah,” I said, wondering if it was easier than what I saw in town. I nodded with a respect I didn’t have and walked back to the street. His thugs were all watching me. I met their eyes one by one, and though they didn’t run or turn away, I still saw them shriveling up like the cowards they were.

As I came out of Mr. Franker’s shop it was like I saw the whole town with fresh eyes—like I’d been asleep, but now I was awake. I saw dirty, scared kids looking up like rats from a dark room—grown men with sunken eyes too long in this world without a reason. The idea they’d pick up clubs and follow me down into the Delve was suddenly so funny I laughed out loud before a coughing fit broke the spell.

Nevermind, you bastards, I thought, I’ll do it myself.

I cursed myself for the time I’d lost, knowing now I’d have to lose more. I went back to the inn just like Mr. Franker suggested and took a shot of moonshine. I coughed as the alcohol burned my chest, and I knew it was likely the last sip I’d ever have.

Mr. Franker had supplies and I needed them.

He had real weapons and armor and who knows what else from over the years. I needed torches, a proper weapon, and whatever else delvers had brought for the last decade.

This town would help me. The old men of this rotten place would help me, willingly or not.

*

I waited in agony until evening. Everyone in Tristwood took their supper at the same damn time, so I knew I had a moment to break in and get what I needed.

They’d hear it, or discover me soon enough, but that didn’t matter now. I walked out to the provisioner and checked the locks, which were all set. I took a shoeing hammer from my pocket and broke a side window, careful to clear the glass before I crawled inside.

I knew I still had to move quick. There was a few obvious things he kept in plain sight behind his counter. A sword, some knives. I went for those first.

Where would he keep the good stuff? Locked up, likely. There was a locked cabinet under the desk, and I smashed it with the hammer, too.

Found some useless money. Some potions, maybe brewed by expert alchymists in the city. They had labels but they meant nothing to me. Still I took ‘em and stuffed ‘em in my bag.

I found some nice, heavy rope and stared for too long. It seemed a reasonable choice for a mine, but the coil was so damn big and heavy and I didn’t want to believe I’d have to go down very far. I left it where it sat.

There was some nice leather gloves and real gambeson armor, and I was damn happy with those. With a little flash of foresight I took some chalk to help mark where I’d been. A bundle of good torches.

Then some light flickered towards the house, and I heard voices. Looked like it was time to go.

I stuffed everything I could in my sack and just took the rest under an arm. I’d get it all stowed away proper later, but for now I needed to get out that window and away before anyone caught me.

Then I looked up.

There was Stewart. Franker’s youngest boy. And the kid who’d punched me and I let run off.

I knew I was so heavy with stolen goods I couldn’t outrun him. I’d have to drop it all and jump out the window, or fight, or quiet ‘em.

“Well what the hell was it?”  Franker yelled.

“It’s nothin’,” Stewart looked me in my eyes. “Window was open. Wind knocked over a rack of tools.”

“For gods’ sake,” Franker kept on. “Well what idiot left the damn window open? Clean it up.”

“OK, Da,” Stewart yelled. Then he stepped towards and lowered his voice. “You’re going after ‘em, ain’t you.”

I nodded but said nothing and Steward tsked and shook his head.

“Shit, Sammy. That’s crazy. Why would you do such a thing?”

“They’re my friends.”

Steward noticed the busted cabinet and frowned. “Shee-it.” He dragged out the word. “I got lots of friends, Sammy.”

“I don’t.”

With that I just went to the broken window and crawled outside. Then I jangled and clanged as I ran my way back home, straight to Harry the Horse.

I’d leave him at the door, I decided, so I’m not sure why I took him exactly. I think I just wanted the company.

Either way we clopped and shuffled our way down to the mine, and no one tried to stop us.

For awhile I just stood there at the entrance, holding Harry’s shoulder as I stared into the gloom. My own bloody footprints ran out except where I’d collapsed in a panicked heap, then slunk off towards Tristwood.

I thought of the sound of that…creature. The glowing eyes of the feasting imps. I shivered in disgust and terror. But there was nothing else for it now. I took some deep breaths to steady my nerves, but even those I lost to a coughing spell.

“That’s it, old buddy.”

I knelt down and took the harness off Harry. He’d likely wait here a bit, but then he’d get hungry or thirsty and he’d wander back to the stable.

“Pa will look after you I expect.” My eyes were a little watery I’m not too proud to say. “No, I don’t want to go,” I told him like he’d asked. “But there’s nothing else for it.” He just searched the ground for a spot of grass as I talked.

“Sometimes, even when you’ve decided a thing, it’s hard when it comes to it,” I whispered.

I thought of Suzie and Willy and Leg and it gave me the strength to rise up. Last chance, I thought, but knew it really wasn’t.

“Goodbye, Harry,” I said, then stepped through the now open door.

It was night now and the mine was supposed to be at it’s worst. But that’s how life was as far as I could tell. The ugly bits never happened when you were good and ready. Life and death had their own seasons and neither cared for your opinion.

Harmon was right, this was foolish.

No one did this and lived. That I was coming to help my friends and not make myself rich made no damn difference to the pit. A flood took saints and sinners just the same.

Every reasonable thought, every muscle in my body told me to turn around and leave this town, just like Rosco told me. I palmed the little disc he’d given me and took some strength from the feel of the raised letters, the strange warmth of the metal.

Only God knew how many of those little red demons were down here, or if and when that monstrous horse-spider would come rumbling back. Or if there was something even worse down there.

It was foolish. But it was right.

I looked to the gloom, knowing a man—a good man, the kind I intended to be at least until I died, didn’t run away because a thing was hard. He didn’t break his promises.

“Hold on, Suzie,” I whispered. “I’m coming.”