Chương 54: Boned Squirt

Clearly, the Hunt just liked fucking with her. The first few days, they traveled through the area to take a general census. Squirt was able to determine that in the immediate vicinity of the keep, the hunters were doing well, but any farther than half a day away and the beasts were rampant. And growing in size. Already, most were in the forms normally seen at the end of the summer. On the third day, she returned to the keep, the guards even more derisive than before.

She snuck through the halls, overhearing wisps of conversation about the new furs that were "all the rage" and so exclusive that only select members of the Guard had them. The visit brought more dismissive looks from the Lady Hawthorne, and the rumor mill wasn't helped when the lord prince summoned her to his rooms late that night after dinner. If he wasn't bothered by it, she wouldn't be either, even if it was for vastly different reasons.

He might even be under the impression that it was acceptable since it would, to his eyes, make her untouchable. It didn't. Nothing ever did. There were too many who thought they were owed more than they were, and the envious fury in their eyes when they caught sight of Squirt only grew. She tried to argue with the prince again after giving him her report, hedging, "Perhaps I should stay out in the forests and meet you when you set off for the Wylds, my lord prince." He gave her an odd look.

"Whatever for? The castle is safer. As it is, I don't like your chances out there during a surge. If I let you go too far and a surge happens, you'll be in far too much danger. No. Don't stray too far, okay? I promised Bartos I'd make sure you're safe." Then he leaned back and said, "Besides, the baths here are nice, aren't they?" Crippling despair worked its way into her heart.

Before she could answer, the servant's door opened, Lady Riverland's daughter back with her breasts pushed up even higher and a platter of sweet fruits diced and ready for snacking. The prince shot her an annoyed look before giving Squirt a gentle smile. Wrong, wrong, and so gods damned wrong. She bit her tongue.

"Go get some sleep, Mystva. You can head out after breakfast tomorrow." Adding fuel to the rumors, she slept in the suites. It didn't matter that she slept in a pile of furs on the floor in an entirely different room—nothing would convince those who thought she was in his bed that she wasn't. After all, the brownie stablehand was the only one who realized she was a gods damned hunter. The prince had made no secret of her work, but they were just that blinded by their assumptions.

Had it not been for the villagers she'd met once, Squirt likely would have disappeared on her next trip out to the Wylds never to return. If only she had. On her next visit, Lady Riverlands' daughter was getting frustrated by her inability to seduce the prince or incur any favor, but Squirt managed to avoid her in the halls. On the visit after that, she would not be so lucky. Squirt found another cave full of the glow worms.

Using Zhadin and Qzi as her intermediaries since she had started growing tired of constantly having to prove herself—even if she was at least offered that chance now—she led a group of Riverlands hunters down to demonstrate when the hair stood up on the back of her neck. She stopped. The way the other two stopped with her while palming blades told the other hunters who was really in charge. Zhadin murmured, "Surge?" Squirt frowned, her eyes scanning.

The birds and beasts had gone quiet in one direction, but not all directions, and the air felt wrong, not heated.

"… no." Slipping off Mole's back, she signaled for him to hide and follow at a distance before taking off at speed through the underbrush. She stopped as a shiver made its way down her spine, followed swiftly by the most noxious stench of rotting flesh she'd ever had the unfortunate experience of smelling. Pulling out her handkerchief, one of the local hunters caught up finally as Squirt tied it around her face. The other woman let out a string of curses and called out, "Bone Whale!"

Even with the handkerchief, a breeze carrying the stench made her eyes water, and she pulled out her goggles. One of the other hunters, having just caught up, cursed and muttered, "Fucking shit—Branch, call out the evacuation order. There's not much we can do, hunters." Squirt darted forward, then climbed a tree with a speed that momentarily stunned at least one of the Riverlands hunters, climbing high enough to see the creature a few hundred yards away.

A Bone Whale wasn't a beast she was familiar with but judging from size and the path of destruction it had wrought in a trail behind it, it was likely a monster only normally seen in late fall. The thing was a massive, skeletal creature slowly gliding through the air. The skin stretched over the bones left the center of it hollow without the weight of internal organs. Pure bone and skin and gaping mouth and nothing else.

All around it, the vegetation of the forest withered and died as moved forward, occasionally opening up its gaping maw to scoop up a feybeast as it convulsed on the ground. And not just any feybeasts—the creature was large enough to scoop up and swallow a Bully Mouth whole. Scanning the trajectory, she noted it was headed straight for the keep. They would most likely be able to defend themselves against it, but they would lose every crop between here and there.

And winter was already going to be tight enough on the stomachs of the local fey. Scanning over the forest, knowing her best bet was to divert it, she caught a glint of what she thought might be steel in the distance. A plan formed in her mind, and with a nimble, gravity defying leap, she was back on the forest floor with the other hunters, all looking at her. The one that had been ordered to call for evacuation was already gone. Good. Squirt turned first to the Riverlands hunters.

"Bone Whale—what traits?" It took a second for the shellshocked hunters to respond, and she almost snapped at them before one did.

"Bone-whale. A being of death. Noxious toxic aura with fumes that will have you emptying both ends and will cause rot on open wounds. It's madness to go near one."

"Airborne toxins?"

"Well, yes—""Weaknesses?" The woman faltered.

"You can't be—" Squirt snapped, "Does it have any weaknesses?" The Riverlands hunters all took a collective step back, one of the one males saying dumbly, "You're mad. You're raving mad." Dismissing them as unhelpful, Squirt's mind was already starting to race to figure out a plan. Every feybeast had a weakness, and by the gods she'd figure it out herself if necessary. She turned to Zhadin and pointed.

"We were expecting a party from the Capital to arrive sometime today, yes? I think I saw them that way." The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Zhadin nodded.

"Expected, yes. The reinforcements."

"Good. Go that way, tell them the situation, and have them start preparing. If we can kill it—" she ignored the disbelieving scoffs, "—with their help, that would be best, but if not they'll need to stall it long enough for the prince to show up to engage the ritual." Zhadin hesitated.

"I might—" Squirt snapped, "You don't have enough." They fell quiet.

"Qzi, handkerchief and goggles. We're going to try and draw it away." Qzi obeyed as Zhadin faded into shadow, then the redcap rubbed his hands together eagerly. One of the other hunters faltered and said, "You're insane. You'll die if you go near it." Not with her handkerchief and goggles she fucking wouldn't.

"Let's go," Squirt said, whistling for Mole and leaping on his back as he raced by her, the redcap whooping with excitement as he followed on his own steed, both of them leaving the hunters in their dust. Using her legs and vocal commands to steer, she rode Mole out to cross in front of the creature's path to its other side as she tied three paralytic shots together, then threw them into the creature's mouth. It opened its jaw to swallow, then roared its rage and thrashed.

Spotting her, it started to chase after her with terrifying speed. Mole needed no direction as he took off, sprinting through the forest and dodging nimbly as the angry feybeast crashed into and took down whole trees in its wake. Grabbing her slingshot from her pouch, she pulled out the blazing ant powder, firing it right into the creature's eye socket—for it had no eyeball—only for it to have no effect whatsoever on the thing.

Cursing to herself, she hunkered down as Mole crashed through the trees only to spot a group of fey directly in her path. By the baskets on their backs and the youth to their faces, they were gathering firewood for their families. Shit, shit, shit — A few screamed as they began to run, drawing the creature's attention in their direction. One bravely shot a fireball spell at the creature. It had no effect and fizzled out without even singeing the damn skin.

Cursing to herself, she made Mole spin in a tight circle as she stood up on the back of the saddle and commanded him to jump then run. He did, and she pushed off, using the momentum and her climbing hooks to leap onto the creature's head. Gagging as she did. Gods, it was vile — Holding her breath, she scampered up, trying to look for a gods damn weak point as it roared and bucked under her. Even her short sword was ineffectual, bouncing off the bone with little more than slight divots to show for her efforts.

It continued to thrash, and she managed to glimpse the gatherers racing off in the distance while Qzi guarded their backs, but they were still too close to the crops.

"Stupid—fucking—monster!" she shouted as her blades failed to find purchase and the creature then turned towards the fields.

"No, damnit!" Thinking quickly and desperate for air, she inhaled, almost hurling as she did. Even her handkerchief was starting to fail to protect her from the rotting stench. She couldn't kill it, but she didn't need to, just needed to direct it away — Reaching into her pouch, she pulled out one of the metal net traps she'd been setting up in clearings around the forest for the next thunderstorm to gather the thunderstones, tossing it out over the thing's head and tangling it in its teeth.

Hooking the other end of it into the ribs to keep it from tossing the thing off—and her with it—she then yanked with all her might in the direction she needed to go. Obviously, the thing didn't budge. Shadowy tendrils slipped around her and pulled her back through the shadow plane before she burst out into glorious fresh air, gasping out a few much-needed breaths.

"Ready?" came Zhadin's voice. Her voice was hoarse and throat scratched as she answered, "Ready." The disturbing feeling of being sent through the shadow plane was followed with a jolt as she landed back on the creature. A grunt from her side followed by a laugh signaled Qzi, and together, the three of them pulled the creature, bending it to heel and turn in the direction they wanted.

"Now what?" shouted Qzi.

"It ain't got blood!"

"How far?" asked Squirt.

"Ten clicks," answered Zhadin.

"Get them ready!" she ordered, ignoring the distinct unhappiness radiating from them.

"Powders are ineffective, cuts ineffective, stench can kill, go!" He disappeared.

"Keep directing it!" she ordered Qzi, using the netting to clamber down towards its jaw, the only fleshy part of it and, she suspected, it's only weak point. Twice it crashed into trees in an effort to knock off its riders, but the netting had added enough scramble holds for both her and Qzi to hold on and dodge. Finally down by its mouth, she heard the barking of commands as she unsheathed her short sword, gagging on her bile as she stabbed its tongue. Like she thought, it bled.

The creature thrashed hard enough for her legs to slip, but she gritted her teeth and kept stabbing. It clamped its mouth down, throwing her around and wrenching her shoulders, her hand caught by the lips and her sword by the teeth. She growled in frustration before she finally had to take a breath, and in that moment her grip slipped. The creature roared and thrashed, and this time, she went flying.

She landed in Zhadin's arms, promptly pulled down the handkerchief, and hurled until there was nothing left in her stomach.

"Lass! You alright there?" Tears streaming from her eyes and breathing ragged, covered in the thing's noxious spittle, she blearily glanced up into the concerned bright yellow eyes of Brock. She snarled, "Fuck off," though with the damage to her voice and throat from the closeness of the creature to her, it came out more as a desperate gasp than an aggressive snarl. He wrinkled his nose and nodded to it.

"Any thoughts? The magi have tried fire, wind, water… She gasped in more air, staggering to her feet as she thought about it, staring at the creature in fury. Then put her handkerchief back up as she ordered Zhadin, "Send me back."

"Lass, wait, you're hurt—" The rest was cut off as Zhadin pulled her through the shadow to a nearby tree just above the creature. Glaring down at it, she said in raspy gasp, "I'm about to do something stupid. When I signal, pull me out." They nodded against her. Without another word, she stepped off the branch, falling back onto its head and grabbing the netting. Scrambling forward to its mouth, she heard the command, "Hold fire! Gods damn it, hold your fire!"

Reaching into her pouch, she pulled out a metal pole from a trap kit and the three lightning stones she'd taken from the first village to make some prototypes. The pole she used first, waiting until the creature opened its mouth to roar again, the fumes of its noxious breath making her dizzy. Furious it had, she roared back as she wedged the pole into its gapping maw, holding it open, before grabbing all three lightning stones in her hands, shouting, "Eat shit!"

and smashing them against the thing's teeth to release the lightning straight down it's gullet. The following explosion launched her back through the air, her ears ringing and hands tingling. Distant, dull sounds of shouts and screams could be heard as soft winds caught her midair in a gentle hold and slowly lowered her back down to the ground. She collapsed to her knees, pulling the ruined handkerchief back down and vomiting up bile.

Then dry heaving, her limbs shaking too hard to hold herself up as she fell to her side. Distantly, his voice distorted, she heard Qzi shout, "Pricklebear! Pricklebear, stay with me!" Through the mess over her goggles, she saw his hair and felt his arms shift her. A warm hand landed on top of her head, a soothing trickle flowing from it as the distorted noises from around her cleared.

Dazed, the heaves finally stopping, she slowly turned her eyes up to the pale glow of a fallen—a fey that birthed the legends of angels, their wings much like pixies only modeled after birds rather than insects, their bodies full sized and not halfling sized—her beauty radiant as she smiled down at Squirt. There was a moment where Squirt wondered if she had died. But nope. The sickness had exited out her bowels in her trousers, and surely that was too mortifying for the afterlife.

Then panic hit as her hands went to the egg at her chest, going limp in relief that it was there, safe and sound and, after a brief inspection with her hands, none the worse for wear. The woman gave her a kindly smile, her dark skin softly glowing with natural power.

"That was very brave, and very stupid, little one." She managed to croak out, "Did it work?"

"Ha!" came the shouted laugh of Brock." Did it work? Yes, it worked. Turns out lightning was super effective on the damn thing—it exploded, then imploded, and is now a very hefty feystone." She fell back, limp as she managed, "Great. Next time, someone else gets to shoot lightning in its mouth." The beauty smiled and Squirt scowled, suddenly keenly aware of how caked in filth she was. The woman looked up and sighed.

"I'll work on restoring the forest." Well, that answered what she was—light mage. A powerful healer.

"You alright there, huntress?" Squirt groaned as she sat up, nodding. There was more energy to her limbs than there had been five minutes ago, meaning the woman had done some kind of healing spell on her.

"Yep."

"Good. We'll take care of all this. Rest and, uh… maybe consider a bath." Squirt nodded, and around them, the company of soldiers was put to work fixing the devastation. Disgusted at her state, she awkwardly stood, ignoring the grossness in her pants as she teetered away behind a bush, digging a hole and tossing the pants in there as she cleaned herself up. They weren't worth saving.

Then she slowly lifted her gaze to the darkening sky, remembering today was the third day, and she was expected at the castle in about an hour. Yep. Her goddess was definitely fucking with her. The Skyian Herald's proclamation Week three of summer Hear ye, hear ye! A great victory has been won! Prince Foridan has uncovered a set of traitors in some of the upper echelons of society who had been kidnapping innocent fey citizens and sacrificing them en masse.

Links have been drawn between the traitors and Fer'ich, who is believed funded their operations. Be on the lookout for more such traitors and report any suspicious fey or items to the nearest guard station immediately. Recruitment is well underway, but there is still time to apply to join our nation's illustrious army! All personnel in our army will be guaranteed three meals a day to have the strength to defend our people from raiders. Join up today!

Lastly, his majesty the king wishes to dispel all rumors of Fer'ich befuddlement on our beloved Prince Feldan. The prince is not a changeling meant to sow discord sent by the Fer'ich. The rumors of this are perpetuated by traitorous mouths. Please report any ill behavior to be investigated for traitorous sympathies.