"What are you doing?" The warlock scrambled up behind her, trying to shove her toward the creature. "Finish it off! Kill it!"
She grabbed his robe.
Pulled him close. Snarled; "You don't tell me who to kill, Chukshene. So, back off! You fucking hear me? You don't get to tell me who to kill."
He fell on his ass as she shoved him away. Kicked his way sideways away from her. Like a crab, she thought. "What the fuck? If you don't kill him, he'll kill us. You heard him. He's fucking insane!"
Exhausted, the elf stepped close to the massive head.
It'd be easy to kill him.
Ignored the twitching arm, she grabbed his ear. Stared hard into the sullen blue eyes and waited until his breathing steadied before speaking.
"You don't follow me. You understand? You leave me alone. Do that, and I'll leave you alone."
He reached up, slowly. Careful not to move too fast.
Just in case.
Rubbed at the red mark encircling his throat. "Why? Why let me live, little elf? The human is right. You should kill me."
"Ain't his choice who I kill."
"You should kill me, though!" He choked and sucked at air. "I don't deserve this life. I built a pointless horror. A horror which I know can never undo what has been done. In my desperation, I hoped. Hoped he would see my efforts and be returned. But he's dead. And he's not coming back."
"Who's dead?" Chukshene asked, his face twitching with curiosity.
"My master. He drained the essence from his body."
The warlock forgot his fear and moved closer. "Who?"
"The Hunter."
"Hunter?" Chukshene looked to Nysta, who shrugged. "Is that some kind of title?"
"He is the Hunter," the creature sighed. "That is all I know."
"Who was your master? What was his name?"
"Master."
"Leave it, Chukshene," Nysta said softly. "He ain't got the answers you're looking for."
The warlock struggled with his desire to pepper the creature with more questions, but ultimately snapped his mouth shut and scowled to himself in thought.
Breathing raggedly, the creature turned his gaze back to her.
"I thought I could bring him back," he said. "If I could collect enough essence, maybe I could give it back to his body. Maybe it would revive him. But his body is dust now. Nothing I do will bring him back, will it?"
"Ain't my place to say," she said.
"Look at my creation, little elf. A wall wet with the blood of innocents. But no matter how many rivers of blood I spill, they are nothing compared to the tears I have wept. He made this body strong, little elf." Placing its hand on its heavy chest, the creature closed its eyes. "But inside I am weak. I do not have the strength to return him. Instead of a gateway for him to travel, I have built a shrine to my own failure."
"Reckon we've all fail a few times in our life," she said. Thought of Talek. How she'd build a wall five times as high if she thought it would bring him back long enough to tell him how sorry she was. Sorry she'd failed him. And how much she loved him still. "But you ain't thinking straight."
"My mind feels clearer than it has ever been." He closed his eyes. "Leave me. When you are gone, I will pull the mountain down. Let this be my tomb."
"See? You ain't thinking straight at all." She crouched beside his head and tapped his nose. "Now, I can see what you've done here. It ain't my idea of home, but then I ain't ever really stayed in one place for long. Spent most of my time in shitty old alleys. But that's my story. Yours looks like you've spent too long down here holding your dick in the dark. And those chains of yours keep you thinking too much about the past. So, you ain't thinking about the future. You can't bring your master back. Face it. You're right, you're a failure. A fucking dog sleeping on his master's grave and starving to death on dreams of wishful thinking. Reckon it's time you got that through your oversized skull. Don't you?"
"You don't understand. I am split, little elf. These chains cling to my bones. I am not flesh, nor chain. I am a thing built for his purpose. I have no purpose of my own. I weep, not for regret. But for my failure to anticipate his need."
"Fuck his needs," she growled. "He's dead. But you should keep your tears. Keep them in a bottle. See, tears like that you can turn into poison. Poison of the worst kind. And, when you're ready, you can use that poison."
The creature with no name frowned. "I don't understand."
She paused.
Studied his face for a moment.
Then leaned close. And whispered a word. A single word.
And his eyes widened.
Slowly, menacingly, the lips of his mouth twisted upward.
"Now you understand?" she asked.
He nodded. "A word I will hold close." His voice rumbled. He flexed his fingers, forming a gnarled fist. "I will think on it, little elf. It is not something I considered. If you are right, then I will owe you a great debt."
The warlock looked on, his face screwed into a ball of curiosity. "What did you say?"
"Ain't none of your business, 'lock."
"That's not fair."
"Fair ain't my business," she countered. Drifted away from the hulking creature as he slowly sat up. The handles of her knives stuck out awkwardly from its chest. She held out her hand and met the blue-eyed gaze with a determined glare of her own. "But your business here ain't finished. Reckon you owe me my knives back. Don't make me come get them."
The warlock sucked a breath. "Uh, Nysta," he whined. "Are they that important? Can't we just get out of here before he changes his mind?"
"I was wrong, little elf," the creature said. His thick fingers clumsily tugged the blades from his flesh before tossing them carelessly at her feet. "You resisted my touch where all others have died. You are strong. I will remember this, next time we meet."
"Yeah, you do that," she muttered.
Then bent to retrieve her knives. Tucked them away as she searched the gloom for Go With My Blessing. She quickly found the blade and eyed it critically before sliding it into its sheath.
"You could have killed me," he mused. "Instead, you give me a new life. So, I will tell you this. You seek the top of the cliffs?"
"Aim to get to Grimwood Creek. In a hurry. Feller there owes me his life. That the quickest way through?"
He nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps. It is one road of many. Look behind my master's throne. There is a tunnel which will lead you to the summit. It is a place I cannot go. The lights are everywhere. They hurt me. Beware those lights, little elf. You don't have enough toys to kill them all."
Her fingers scratched at the scar on her cheek. "The lights?"
"There are too many to fight," he said, almost sheepishly.
"Maybe you could open the wall outside and let us out, then?" Chukshene asked hopefully.
"The wall will never fall," the creature said. His eyes glowed fiercely. "It will remain strong. Perhaps soon it will not remind me of my failure. Perhaps it will give others cause to fear. Follow the tunnel, little elf. Take your human with you. I will not follow."
"Obliged."
"Umm. I'm not her human. I'm mine."
"Shut up, 'lock."
The creature finished hauling himself to his feet and watched them go, a fathomless expression on his face.
But it wasn't long before they heard a low rumble which quickly rose in pitch until the awful sound made the air shake around them.
Chukshene shuddered at the awful sound. "Is he laughing? At us, do you think?"
"It matter?"
"Not really, I guess," he said, sighing as the ugly noise trailed into the distance. Then chuckled to himself. "Maybe he just got one of your jokes, Long-ear. I mean, he seemed to like you in the end. Grim only knows why."
"Figure you should watch your own performance, 'lock. The big lights are still far away, but I reckon I can give you what you need to make it to that stage."
"What's that?"
"A gag."
***
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