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14. A Little Bug Problem
🕑 Added 2024-04-10 15:00:46 +0000 UTCBack in the outpost, Ike finally dared to stop. He stood, wiping his mouth, and looked behind him. The road back to the slum stood empty, save a few stray hunters.
He let out a sigh of relief. They hadn’t chased him. He was safe.
What was I thinking, mouthing off to that girl? He put a hand to his heart, feeling it race even now. Had he gone temporarily insane? An upper city young madame, and he’d…
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. With a last peek over his shoulder, he lifted the bandana to push his hair back and strode into the outpost. His pockets weren’t empty yet. He needed gear, and now that he had gold, it was time to buy.
Shops stood here and there along the outpost’s main street. Ike walked the street, occasionally peeking inside the shops. Weapons, armor, gear… and all of them oh so expensive. In the somewhat lackluster bookstore, Ike toyed with a thin volume. A tag dangled off its spine, and he tipped his head to read it.
10 Gold.
Ike jerked back, throwing his hands up. The book thumped down onto the shelf. He shook his head, taken aback. That’s all my remaining gold!
He gazed down the aisle, twisting his lips. Swords cost a hundred gold at the minimum. Armor started at fifty for leather. Even books cost double-digit gold. The Salamander would have given him a good start…if he hadn’t had to pay off his debt.
Ike shook his head. Positive. Focus on the positive. He bit his lip, eyeing the book again. A Hunter’s Guide to Monsters, it boasted a complete index of all the local monsters, including their most valuable parts and weaknesses. If he bought it, he’d know what to hunt and what to pass up. It would provide the knowledge to allow him to truly become a hunter.
But…all my gold…
A scoff sounded from behind. Ike turned. Orin stood there, three books tucked under his wiry arm. He shook his head at Ike. “That book’s all bunk.”
Ike lifted his hand. He reached for a different book.
“That one’s bullshit. Oh—that one, too,” Orin added, pointing at the next book Ike was about to grab.
“Which one is good, then?” Ike asked, a little frustrated.
Orin sniffed. He rubbed his nose and walked off. “None of ‘em.”
Ike stared after him. He spread his hands at Orin’s back. “What am I supposed to do?”
At the corner of the shelves, Orin paused. He looked back. “Oh, well. I guess I could give you my old record.”
“Your old…” Ike squinted.
Orin winked. He reached into his pocket, flashing the corner of a Rank badge. “I used to be a hotshot hunter around here. One of the best. I know more about the local monsters than any dusty old guide in a bookshop.”
“And you’ll just give that to me?” Ike asked, equally hopeful and suspicious.
“Weeeelllll…” Orin clicked his tongue. He pursed his lips, then shrugged. “Not for free, no.”
“I only have ten gold,” Ike said.
“No, no. I’m an old man. What am I gonna do with gold? Die on it? Come on. Follow me back. I need someone to help me clean up the house.”
“Clean?”
Licking his lips, Orin nodded. He pinched his fingers so close they almost touched. “Got a leeetle bit of a bug issue. Help me take care of that, and I’ll give you my old journal. How’s that sound?”
Ike hesitated, watching as Orin paid for his books. The old man headed for the door. He turned back, framed by the sun. “So? You coming or not?”
A free guide. Plus, Orin’s a hunter himself. He weighed his choices, then nodded and followed after Orin. Worst case, he wasted a few hours helping an old man. Best case, he came away with one of the pieces of gear he so desperately needed. It was an easy choice.
Orin grinned. He nodded in approval. “Come on, kid. Daylight’s a-wastin’.”
Ike followed. They wound out of the town and back into the wilderness inside the wall. The forest closed in around them, and the mana thickened. Ike breathed deep, sucking it in.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, kid?” Orin glanced back, meeting Ike’s eye from the corner of his.
Ike nodded. “There’s more mana out here, isn’t there?”
“Smart kid. Yeah. More mana out here. Especially for someone who grew up in the city like you. Slums’re shite for mana.”
Ike opened his mouth, then closed it. He opened it again, giving voice to something that had been bothering him. “The city…growing up in filth. Is it impossible to grow past Rank 2, if you grew up in the slums?”
Orin stopped. He turned back. “Who told you that?”
“I…overheard it. From someone from the overcity.”
Orin wrinkled his nose. He spat. “The overcity.” The word sounded like a curse in his mouth.
Ike tilted his head, watching Orin.
Shaking his head, Orin walked on. He waggled his finger at Ike. “Bunch of fuckin’ prudes. Think they’re the only ones who know how to Rank up. Anyone can Rank up. Anyone from anywhere, filth be damned.”
He pointed at Ike. “You gonna let them tell you what you can and can’t do? You gonna let a little setback keep you from winning?”
“No,” Ike said firmly.
“No. That’s right. No.” Orin reached into his pocket and drew out his Rank badge. It flashed in the sun, and then Ike saw it.
Rank 3.
Orin glanced over his shoulder. He shot a mischievous grin at Ike. “So? What do you think? Can we slumrats pass Rank 2?”
“Yes!” Ike said, his heart leaping. Thank goodness he’d followed Orin. All the books in the bookshop paled before his eyes when compared to Orin’s Rank 3 badge. Even if Orin was the worst note-taker in the world, his guide would still be worth its weight in gold. And as long as he followed Orin and took care of a few bugs, he’d get that guide for free.
Sunlight streamed down. A gentle breeze wafted by. He almost started humming. What a wonderful day. What a beautiful forest. Ah, how fortunate, how fortunate indeed.
“Here we are,” Orin said, stopping abruptly. He nodded ahead of him.
Ike leaned to the side, looking past Orin.
A clearing laid before them. In the center of the clearing stood a two-story hunting lodge with outdoor porches on both floors. Branches loomed over a high-pitched roof. The door hung ajar. In the shadowed interior, furtive movement caught Ike’s eye. He stared.
A triangular head as large as his, bug eyes tacked to either end of it. A small but vicious mouth. Two blades in place of arms, each blade long enough to make a sword from. The giant praying mantis tilted its head. Its mouthpieces moved hungrily. A strange keening cry echoed across the clearing.
Ike licked his lips. “Is that—”
“A bug. Yep.” Orin nodded.
“That is not a bug,” Ike protested.
“How is it not? Point to the part that isn’t a bug,” Orin returned, crossing his arms.
Ike held his hands far, far apart from each other. “The part where it’s huge?”
“Big bug’s still a bug.”
Ike looked at the house. Flickers of motion appeared in every window. Strange waxy structures drooped from the upper porch and clung to the ceilings inside the house. Smaller shapes swarmed across the windowsill.
“Is there something else I can do…?”
Orin sniffed. He shrugged. “Book’s in there. If ya want it, ya gotta go get it. No two ways about it.”
Pressing his lips together, Ike gazed at the house again. The bug at the door made a clawing gesture at him. Drool dripped from its mouth.
He took a deep breath. Lifting his eyes away, he pointed at the side of the house, where an old axe sat stuck in a tree stump next to a pile of logs. “Can I use that?”
“You can use whatever you want,” Orin said.
Ike nodded. He yanked the axe out of the stump and turned to the woods. He browsed the small trees near the edge of the forest. Choosing a straight small tree a foot or two taller than him with an arm-width trunk, he chopped into it. Woodchips flew into the air. The tree’s vibrant heartwood shone blood red in the sunlight. Again and again, he hacked at the tree. The axe’s dull blade made rough work of it, but it got the job done. At last, the tree struck the ground, leaves trembling from the force of the blow. Ike hefted the axe again and chopped off the canopy, then quickly stripped the branches by hand.
Ike picked up the pole and checked its height, then thumped it on the ground. The staff stood firm. Not too flexible, not too rigid. He lifted it and thrust it at the air, feeling its weight and balance. Satisfied, he leaned the staff against his shoulder. Hooking the axe through his belt, he put his razor in his back pocket, handle ready to grab.
“Okay.” Ike jumped in place, shaking out his arms and legs. He lifted the pole to his shoulder and charged the door.
The praying mantis let out a shrill cry and leaped at him, lifting its bladed arms.
Ike put both hands to the pole and angled it at the mantis. The blunt end of the pole caught the mantis out of the air. He kept charging, carrying the mantis into the house. A wall rushed up at him and the mantis alike. Lowering the pole back to horizontal, Ike rammed into the wall. The pole smashed through the mantis and punched a hole in the wall behind it.
The mantis screeched, squirming ferociously. Ike leaned his whole weight against the pole, but the mantis still managed to shove against the pole hard enough to push Ike away. The pole lifted off the wall. The mantis backed out of it.
Ike slammed the pole against the wall again, punching a second hole through the mantis. It screamed. Yellow ichor spurted against the wall. The mantis pushed away from the wall and shoved its way up the pole at Ike, its bug eyes glaring at him.
Shit. Ike grabbed the axe out of his back pocket. He waited. The mantis crawled toward him one step at a time. It raised its bladed arms.
Ike lashed out. The bug’s triangular head flew away. It struck the ground and rolled, spraying ichor behind it.
Taking a deep breath, Ike lowered the pole and slipped the axe into his belt again. He stepped on the mantis’ body and pulled with both hands. The limp form squelched free of the pole and flopped against the ground.
Pole in one hand, axe in the other, Ike wiped his forehead with the back of his arm and took stock of the room.
Normal-sized praying mantises crawled over every inch of the house. The floor, the walls, they climbed over everything. Some even clung to the ceiling. Ike took a step back. Mantises crunched under his boots. Little pricks stabbed at his lower legs as a few of them climbed up his pants.
Ike barely resisted the urge to shudder. Just set it on fire. Individual mantises weren’t that bad, but a swarm of them put his teeth on edge. The hundreds of crawling legs, the ceaseless motion…Ike grimaced. He pushed the thoughts down, shaking his head. Get the job done and get out.
As disgusting as the swarm was, there were no more monstrous praying mantises in the lodge’s lobby. A hallway led to the left and the right. Ike looked back and forth, then lifted his pole and walked to the left. He spun around the corner, pointing his pole threateningly down the hall.
A pair of waist-high praying mantises bent over the body of a third. Chewing and slurping sounds echoed down the hallway. A sharp crack rang out from the downed mantis’ body and ichor flew as one of the mantises tore an arm off its downed fellow.
Without hesitation, Ike charged the mantises, holding the pole before him in both arms.
The mantises turned. Bits of mantis hung from their mouths. Their mouthparts worked, busy chewing their fellow. In a flash of motion, both of them leapt away from the downed mantis. They struck the wall on either side of Ike and jumped off, charging at him from both sides.
Ike planted his feet and swung the pole like a bat. Crack! Both mantises flew into the wall. Their exoskeletons cracked open. Yellow ichor dripped down the wall as their bodies slowly slipped down it.
Two doors stood on the inside wall. Ike crunched his way down the hallway. Holding the pole at the ready, he kicked the first one open.
The door swung inward, throwing a dozen normal-sized mantises into the air. Mantises coated comfortable furniture and blanketed a low table.
Ike let the door fall shut. Moving down the hall, he kicked the second door open.
A screech sounded from inside. Half-open, the door jerked to a halt. In a flurry of wings and blade-arms, an angry mantis as tall as Ike rushed him.
Ike raised his pole too late. The mantis struck it out of his hand with a swipe of its arm. Its other limb slashed at his neck.
Jerking his arm up, Ike barely blocked the blade. It stuck into his arm, pushing him sideways through the little mantises. Pain burst from his arm, and sweat broke out on his forehead.
Gritting his teeth, Ike yanked the axe out of his belt with his other hand. He swung at the mantis’ spindly neck.
The mantis leaped back, jerking its blade out of his arm. Blood sprayed. Ike winced, jerking away. He lifted the axe as his arm burned, Salamander Healing closing the deep slash on his forearm. His mana drained into the skill.
The mantis lunged toward him again. Both its blades slashed down at him.
Lightning crackled. Ike dashed through its grasp and between its spindly legs. The bladed arms sliced through empty air. Popping back up behind it, Ike grabbed the axe in both hands and swung with all his might. The blunt blade thunked into the mantis’ exoskeleton, only half-severing its head.
Ichor rushed out, spurting down the blade. Ike yanked it free. The mantis whirled, raising its blades.
Ike’s eyes flashed. Lightning flashed around his hands. He struck again, hacking into the other side of the mantis’ neck. The mantis twitched. Its arms drooped, and it toppled sideways. Thrashing helplessly on the floor, it bled out.
Ike wiped the axe on his pants. He stepped over the mantis’ body and sucked in a breath, drawing in all the mana he could. Bending, he scooped up the pole and walked on. That’s all for this hall. Let’s go check out the other side.
