CHAPTER FOUR
Bone Man
Pierce only found out the name of the town as the three of them left it, traveling on foot to the west. It was imperfectly carved on a long wooden board suspended between two lamp posts at the edge of town, and it was hard to read. He thought it said Nux.
The road they walked cut through the land west of Nux like a novice surgeon's incision, winding slightly, taking random hitches around small outcroppings of stone. Otherwise, the land was mostly flat, and it was arid - dry and often barren. For two days of travel they saw no one on the road, nor any farms or other towns. It was as if life had forsaken this lonely stretch of country.
The crawling red sun seemed to grow and brighten when it passed overhead each afternoon. That would explain the aridness way out here. Decrepit old aqueducts stood dry and silent on the northern horizon. They may once have run all the way to the Wedge, a dense range of mountains perched on the edge of Overland, from which the waters of Flood Day erupted each year.
Whatever kingdom had once flourished here, it was so far gone that it was no longer mentioned in children's textbooks, or spoken of in fireside tales. Pierce didn't even think the region had a name on the map.
Pierce had never been great at occupying himself with his own thoughts, which was why he usually ran while traveling. He wasn't sure the others were up to that though. Certainly, they were still mighty as ever, but he didn't think it polite to ask if they could move any faster.
Pierce began to feel anxious. Not nervous, but fidgety despite being in motion. He was profoundly relieved when the road tapered out, giving way to a scrubby wilderness. They had to be getting somewhere now. Axebourne called a stop, watching the land ahead for a sign. Lightning flashed in the sky over the barren fields. A strange figure made wild gestures in time with earth-shaking booms.
"Fury! Bore into the earth!" he cried, over and over. With each cry, a bolt of lightning ripped through the air and blasted apart a wide section of the dry ground, leaving behind dust and broken rock, some of it molten. Each time, the ground shook, and he relished the vibration in his bones. He didn't really need to yell at the lightning to make it strike, but something about the primal scream just made it all the more satisfying.
"Rip! Shred! Blast!" he cried, letting fly arcs of electricity from the tips of his fingers. The heat of it sent a pleasant ache up the bones of his arms, and he grinned. Well, he was always grinning now, wasn't he?
In a silent moment between blasts of lightning, he heard a familiar voice calling from a distance.
"No," he muttered. "Go away." He said it louder, craning his neck, "Go away!"
He called another bolt of lightning down, and the earth at his back erupted in a shower of debris.
"Just hear us out!" came a bellow from behind. What in the Chasm was Axebourne doing out here? "There's some stuff going down, Agrathor! Just calm down and listen, for old time's sake, if nothing else!"
Axebourne was getting closer. If Agrathor kept summoning lightning, he might hurt the man, and whoever was with him. He sighed. Well, he felt the feeling of sighing, and would have sighed, if he still had lungs. Or a mouth, or anything in between.
Agrathor threw his spear to the ground and turned. Axebourne approached, an amiable smile on his face. Scythia was with him, naturally, and a tall, heavily armored youngster with bright eyes that flicked across everything he saw, rarely settling for long.
The youngster noticed Agrathor and went wide-eyed. His hand went to his sword and he snapped it free of the scabbard, eyeing his potential foe. Agrathor saw a portion of the blade revealed, and staggered backward in an instant of primal fear. The kid had a bone-melter.
No. It couldn't be. Had Axebourne come to end his misery? Had Agrathor done something that made him a threat to the retired members of Gorgonbane?
Axebourne put a hand over the kid's arm, whispered something in his ear, and the youngster's face softened. He clicked his sword back into place.
When he came near enough, the kid put out a hand in greeting.
"Hello, I'm Pierce. My apologies, sir. I had no idea you were a skeleton,' he said.
Pierce thought Agrathor looked put off, but it was hard to tell since the man had no skin on his face. He was wearing armor, though, obscuring his skeleton form in parts. That made him look a little more normal.
"How did it happen, sir?" he asked.
The bone-man looked incredulous, his jaw agape. His eyes might have been wide if they were more than just green flames dancing in their dark sockets.
Axebourne grimaced. "He doesn't really like to talk about it, son."
"No," Agrathor growled. "You don't like to talk about it. Every time I remember, I get angry, and when I'm angry, I feel something again. That doesn't mean I don't like to talk about it. Come on, ask again, I dare you."
"Sorry, comrade," Axebourne said.
"Agrathor," said Scythia, stepping up and pulling the skeleton man into an awkward embrace. "It's been too long. You're looking well."
"And you are as beautiful as always, Scythia," he replied, grinning. "Keeping this old joker in check?"
Scythia smiled back. "For the most part," she said. "Though he does misbehave from time to time."
"So not much has changed," said Agrathor.
"Actually, sir," Pierce cut in, "that's what we're here about. A lot of things are about to change, probably."
"What is he talking about?" Agrathor asked. Pierce looked to Axebourne for approval.
"Go on and tell him, son," the man said. "The uh... short version."
"Right," Pierce nodded. "Kash the Underlord is planning to invade Overland. He's going to attack Grondell, we
