The Crypt of the Undead Sorcerer and Other Vacation Spots
Berin Stephens
The Crypt of the Undead Sorcerer
and Other Vacation Spots
Tales of Myrick
the (not so)
Magnificent
Berin L. Stephens
The Crypt of the Undead Sorcerer and Other Vacation Spots
Copyright © 2012 Berin L. Stephens
Special thanks to:
James E. Curwen, cover artist
https://jamesecurwen.blogspot.com/
and
Jaleta Clegg, editing
https://www.jaletac.com/
People keep asking me why my feet glow in the dark. I used to hide it by wearing high boots and thick socks but I grew tired of that. And so, I shall endeavor to explain once and for all how this happened in the hopes that people will quit asking me about them. Please quit staring (I hate that).
It happened back when I was a message carrier in Fringolia during the reign of Frankfurt the Fifth. It wasn't a glorious job, but it allowed me to see the country and meet lots of people. Of course, most of those people wanted to rob me, hurt me, eat me, or use me as part of a magic experiment. Cantoria is a rough world.
I had only been on the job for a few weeks but had already been promoted to second lowest in rank when a new kid joined the message carrier squad. He was a wiry little guy and stood six inches shorter than me; I’m only five foot two. His name was Brutus, but we just called him Nut-boy. He had this annoying habit of eating nuts in his bed after everyone else had gone to sleep. I had the bunk below him and often had to listen to his midnight munchings; not to mention all the shells in my sheets.
Back to my story. It all happened on a wet, stormy, and absolutely miserable day. The roads were about a foot deep of mud and we were both soaked through to our underwear. My socks were so wet they made this lovely squishing noise inside my boots every time I took a step. At least the treated leather of the mail bags kept the letters nice and dry and cozy. I can’t say that for the dorky red uniforms we were forced to wear as kingdom mail carriers. They worked better as sponges than protection from the elements.
We crested a hill and slogged down the other side into what was known as the Valley of Death. For some reason, most of the other messengers refused to take this road. I didn't have a problem with it. It cut five miles off our route. I mean, just because it had an ominous name and a bunch of ruins of some ancient civilization doesn't make it haunted.
“I don't like this,” Nut-boy said in a trembling voice, looking about with wide eyes. He wiped the rain out of his face and studied a crumbling monolith next to the road. “I hear there are zombies and skeletons and ghosts all around here.”
“Pff. That's a bunch of rotten cabbage. Those are just fairy tales made to scare small children.” I carried both message bags through the mud because, I swear, Nut-boy didn’t have an ounce of muscle on his scrawny little body.
Nut-boy asked through his blue lips, “Aren't you afraid of anything, Myrick?”
Naturally, I do have my fears, but I had developed a reputation amongst the other messengers of being fearless. I, obviously, didn't want to do anything to spoil that reputation. “Of course not,” I said with a forced laugh. “Just think, one day you will be able to say that you knew Myrick the Merciless.”
Thunder roared right next to us and a tree only a hundred yards away exploded in a bright flash of light.
“That was close, wasn't it Nut . . . I mean, Brutus.” I turned to look at my companion.
He had vanished.
My heart raced as my head spun around each direction, but I didn’t see any sign of my friend. Okay, 'friend' might be a little too strong a word, but he was the closest I had. “Brutus!”
“Up . . . up here,” his voice chittered from above.
I looked up. I don't know how he did it, but somehow he had scampered ten feet up the closest tree. He was a fast little booger when he wanted to be.
“It was just lightning,” I said. “No skeletons or anything are attacking us. I promise.”
As he skittered back down, I looked about for shelter. The rain was miserable enough, and I didn’t like the thought of dodging lightning strikes, too. I spotted an ancient building a little off the road that looked mostly intact. That would be a perfect place to get dry and maybe start a little fire. Once Brutus made it to the ground, I headed towards it.
“Where . . . where you going?” His teeth chattered so hard I could barely understand him.
“We need shelter. There's a building over there.” A narrow path led off the road toward the ruin. I started down the path but didn’t hear Nut-boy following. When I turned around to see where he was, I saw him still standing in the middle of the road, shivering. He looked like a drowned squirrel. “Come on!” I motioned for him to follow.
He gulped and slowly sloshed after me.
Once I made it to the ancient stone building, I peered in through the doorway, just in case there really were skeletons. Inside it consisted of rubble and weeds. Half the roof had disintegrated over time, so I could see pretty well except for one dark corner. There weren't any other passages that boogie men could come through to nab us. I shouted back to Brutus, “No monsters here. It's safe.”
I went inside under the part with the intact roof. It felt so good to get out of that pummeling rain. I put the mail packs down and looked for fuel to start a fire. Others must have had the same idea I did. I saw a small pile of wood stacked against a wall and a little fire pit circled by stones in the middle of the room.
“Perfect,” I said as Brutus arrived and stood in the doorway. I pointed at the wood, “Others have used this place for shelter before, too. It's perfectly safe.”
“Yeah, but where are they? Did they get eaten?” Nut-boy’s teeth sounded like Belichean maracas.
“Nonsense.”
Something heavy landed on my shoulder, causing my knees to buckle. “Vhat is dis?” boomed a low voice.
I jumped and screamed. Fortunately, Nut-boy never heard me because he screamed even louder. And like a girl.
I spun about and saw one of the biggest monsters ever. Well, I thought he was a monster. He certainly looked like one. He turned out to be human, but huge. He stood about seven feet tall and had muscles on top of muscles on top of muscles. And he only wore a fur loin cloth. I would have laughed at his wardrobe, but I looked at the rippling muscles on top of muscles and thought better of it. His frown wasn't very pretty either.
“Who are you?” He asked with a thick, barbarian accent. He stepped out of the shadows and reached for a sword that was longer than I was tall.
“We . . . we’re just messengers,” I said. “My name is Myrick, this is my friend Brutus.”
He looked back and forth between us for a second. “Mah-reek. Broo-tus. You messengers? Goot to meet you.” He stopped reaching for his sword and I started breathing again.
“Um, we just wanted out of the rain. Didn’t know this was your place. Sorry to have bothered you. We'll be leaving now.” I backed toward the door.
He smiled, a very frightening and ugly smile. “No. It okay.” He pointed his thumb at his chest. “Me Nonac. You stay here vit me.”
“So you can eat us for dinner?” I have a problem with things popping out of my mouth like that.
“Huh?” He put his hand out to shake my hand.
“Uh, nothing. Just wondering what was for dinner.” I cautiously reached my hand forward and shook his. His hand completely engulfed mine and forced me to have to bite my tongue to keep from screaming in pain. When he let go, I snapped my hand back and rubbed it with the other.
Nonac continued his ghastly smile, “Yah. V
ee friends now.”
“Wonderful,” I said, forcing a smile.
“Huh, huh, huh,” Nonac said as he stepped closer. It took me a moment to realize it was laughter. He then slapped me on the back, sending me sprawling forward. I did a nice face plant into a puddle.
Brutus still hadn't moved from the doorway. He stared as if he had somehow been transformed into a zombie. I got up and wiped as much mud as I could off my face. By now, I felt like the cold and wet had penetrated all the way through my bones, making me wonder if I’d ever be able to warm up again. “How about we start a fire?”
Nonac shook his head, causing his long dark hair to wave back and forth. “No. No time.”
“What do you mean?” I picked up a couple pieces of wood.
“Must get to tomb before sun go down.” A peculiar look crossed his face as he examined Brutus and me. A smile rippled across his thick lips, the kind of smile you see on used carriage salesmen. “You just in time. Can come vit me. Be helpers.”
“He-help you do-do what?” Nut-boy sounded less excited about exploring a tomb than I did.
I looked out the doorway to the heavy gray clouds above. “Um, oh, wow, look at how late it’s getting. I'm sorry, Nonac, really I am, but me and Brutus are supposed to make it to Fairhaven before sundown. We'd love to help you, but as you know, the messages must be delivered.” I dropped the wood and thrust my finger into the air, trying to sound as authoritative as I could.
Nonac didn’t buy it. He shook his shaggy
