Chapter Nineteen
Cottonmouth
Shit. Shit-shit-shit-shit. Callum raced out of the trees, finding his little viper collapsed on top of the dead Paladin. “Well, darlin, now I can’t accuse you of pullin’ yer punches, huh?”
He was whispering to a dazed, bleeding Avelina.
She didn’t even talk back as he peeled her off Lord Pavlin.
The wound in her soft belly made him swallow over a lump in his throat.
He reached down into the roots around them and ripped out one of the many veins of the swamp.
It came away stringy, little white tendrils lashing out at him.
Avelina curled up in the crook of his one arm while he shucked the root.
Getting at the core, a writhing mess of white veins that united all the trees in The Bark Father’s swamp.
He put the thrashing flora into his mouth and ripped them in half.
Green blood filled his mouth. Callum poured the rest over her wound and watched it sink in.
The blood stopped, crusting over into a scab.
Then the skin slowly crawled up and over it.
Stitched back together in clumps until it was like the wound never existed, The Bark Father’s blood worked it’s magic.
While the evil tree at the center of the swamp was a cruel master…
there was a reason those who serve him were hard to kill.
He made everything of his sturdy. Made to last.
It was obvious that Avelina was made to hurt.
Her powers drove people away in fear, and could defend herself with quick thinking.
But a morning star still hurts like a son of a fuck.
He glanced at the corpse beside them and was reminded of Neddy.
Ink filled in all the lines in his face.
He was a dramatic painting, with wide eyes, mouth ajar, and spider webs of onyx all over his face.
Yer gettin’ a little too good at that for my comfort, darlin.
He returned his attention to her stomach.
Her skin was a healthy pallor again and she breathed more evenly.
However, just to be safe, he pulled her up to his face.
Their lips met and the green blood of The Bark Father trickled off his tongue into her mouth.
Callum sat there in the mud, covered in Paladin guts, holding her in his arms. She lay peacefully for a long time.
Steadily, her body warmed up. Then her eyelids batted open.
And finally, she stiffened, taking back her muscles and sitting up.
“Upsie daisy, little viper. You took a lotta morning star to the gut,” he cooed, inspecting her. She twisted, face flinching the whole time, so he knew it was still tender, to see Pavlin. Little stubborn viper, I’ll give her that. He quirked a brow when she finally focused on him.
“How?”
Callum nodded to the root with lashing white tendrils at the tip of his tail. She followed his chin and grimaced.
He snorted. “My sentiments, but The Bark Father keeps this whole swamp alive. The blood runnin’ through those roots will stitch up most wounds. Can’t do nothin’ about…” he trailed off, glancing at Pavlin. “Necromantic wounds.”
“Good,” she exhaled.
“Ooo, slow down there, little viper. Yer startin’ to sound like me.” He grinned as she worked her way back up to her feet. Callum waited till she was sturdy on her toes before he rose as well. Only, her gaze was stuck to the dead man in the mud. “Avelina?”
“I’m not sorry about this one,” she blurted out.
“I’m…glad?” He eyed her suspiciously.
“I’ve started acting like a warlock,” she exhaled heavily as her gaze raked up his belly scales to his face.
When they locked eyes, her gemstone orbs were filling with hot tears.
Angry, disgusted tears that made her whole face twist up as they spilled.
“I don’t want to hurt people. I never want to be a monster.
But I’m done being a scared little bunny rabbit. ”
“Atta girl,” he hummed. Her fury melted away instantly, her hard scowl turning into a confused frown. Callum took up her chin and trapped that trembling bottom lip of hers. “That’s more like it. I think ye’ve earned yerself a fine dinner and I know just where to find one.”
“What about the fish?” He could tell she hated the idea the second it escaped her mouth.
There was a certain queasiness in her furrowed brows that tipped him off.
Callum arched a brow. He turned to glance across the lake and sighed.
The dock where his spoils of the lake once lay, was infested with Nuria.
The swamp rats munched happily on his fish.
“Feelin’ up to a bit of a walk, little viper?” Callum turned away from the frenzy feeding and grabbed the corpse by the arm.
“What are you doing with the body?” she frowned.
“Gonna make a visit to our good friend Daggertooth Dan. I heard he’s rustled up some good barbeque.
Figured I’d leave him a present.” Callum headed down the bank of the lake toward Dan’s usual home.
It was a flimsy sham for a warehouse at the edge of the swamp, pinched between the wastes and the trees.
Once upon a time, it was owned and maintained by the cattle ranchers in IronGarde.
Times got tough and they didn’t have the means to keep up with it.
Nothing calls to vermin quite like an abandoned building.
Dan crawled in and instantly built his little nest of scum suckers and blood thirsty, boot lickers.
What better way to rile them up than to frame him for Avelina’s crimes? Plus…it would make Callum immensely happy to steal from that bastard.
“I’m gonna be scrubbing mud out from between my toes for weeks,” Avelina whined from behind him, plucking something out of the mud.
This girl and her pretty fucking rocks. She followed him regardless.
She even took up Pavlin’s other wrist, making their journey easier.
Callum intended to get to Dan’s, throw the dead man inside, rob the idiot’s cupboards, kill any of his crew who might be there to stop him, and then head back home for a well-earned bath. A job well done.
It took two hours to get out of the swamp, another hour to drag the Paladin up to the warehouse.
Avelina furrowed her brows as they took a breath, sitting on a log a few feet out of sight of the massive building.
The warehouse was a long, wooden construction that had started to blend in with the trees.
Branches and vines wove around the edges of it, the roof more bird’s nests than shingles.
It had large windows without glass in them but wooden bars, likely to keep the cattle in but allow the forest rodents who ventured inside out.
“This is where he lives?” she whispered, scratching the mud off her neck.
While they traveled, she’d itched herself nearly silly.
It reminded him of shedding season. Nothing worse than going slowly mad with dry scales that peeled.
Sunburns had nothing on him. Callum stayed silent as there was nothing to do about it.
They were both covered in dried mud, and it was going to be a nightmare getting off.
Even Callum, who spent most of his life rolling around in the muck, was about ready to shave his own flesh.
“Yup,” Callum grunted, flopping Pavlin down on the grass in front of them.
Beyond the warehouse was the Searing Wastes.
Endless dead land full of sand and slithers.
He’d danced with one a long time ago. There was still a missing patch of scales at the base of his tail from the encounter.
Fucking giant serpent worm bastard. Callum tended to stay on this side of the Wastes if he could help it.
“Used to be a halfway barn for the Last Chance Ranch over in Irongarde. They’d run their cattle across the sands and park it here before moving on to Parandor. ”
“Why’d they give it up? Did Dan scare them out?
” Avelina kicked her feet out, wiggling her toes in the setting sunlight.
Worse thing in the sands, if the SunBringer’s blessing didn’t toast one’s brains, the terrors in the night would eat ya.
He heard the low moan of undead once or twice and knew to leave that particular stone unturned.
“Nah, he’s too much of a soft-bellied lint-licker.
They couldn’t keep up with it. Besides, Gloomsdale’s slowly growin’ bigger, eatin’ away at the nice woods and turnin’ it into more swamp.
They’d end up goin’ out of their way comin’ here.
” He shrugged as they waited for the sun to settle a little lower in the sky.
Callum didn’t want Pavlin laying in the warehouse too long unseen.
Plus, he’d heard the thunderous boots of other Paladins back when he picked the four scaredy cats off one by one.
There was a search party out there. They left enough clues—plus the giant drag mark across the ground—that any fool could follow them.
All that was left was to wait for the search party to catch up more and Dan to come home.
“Tell me how you really feel about him,” she teased softly.
“Trust me,” he snorted, following her gaze down the treeline. The lumbering fool, a large orc with sharpened tusks and a mop of brown hair, led his crew up the path where the wastes and swamp melted together. His lips curled into a smirk, “Ya don’t wanna get me started.”
“What’s the plan?” she whispered as the pair climbed to their feet. Callum threw the corpse over his shoulder and nodded to the warehouse.
“Door’s not locked; we just walk in. You worry about finding us some grub and getting out.”