The Lore Anthology: Lore of the Underlings: Episodes 1 - 5 Read Free

raised her torch aloft, high above her uncovered head. Then she leveled it at the fading horizon and held it there in a firm clenched fist. The warm flame shone on the cascade of golden hair that fell upon her shoulders and poured like liquid light down her back.
    “Ogdog!” she called out, “Ogdog!” Her voice was clear and strong.
    “Enough.”
    She spoke to the one with Jixy Mox, the demon that possessed the girl. She and her men approached them now.
    “It is done.”
    This devil seemed to be under her spell and bowed to the woman at once, deep and low, as a servant bows before his mistress. Then it obeyed her command without pause. In a swirling whirlwind and dizzying spin it cast off the cloak of darkness it wore and cast out the child from its armless embrace.
    The ribbons of blackness that had wrapped it drifted away on a waft from the west. But the rapt girl dropped like a rock instead — down, down, down until she landed hard on the young man’s strong right arm. She was shaken but unharmed. He had reached her just in time, still holding the glowing torch at his left. The long herder’s hat he wore tipped back, revealing two eyes the blue of sky set square against features of chiseled truthstone.
    “Fear not, my dear, fear not at all.” It was the rounder man. He spoke to her in a soothing way. “All is alright. You are with friends. I am Morio and I shall keep you safe.”
    But Jixy turned away and pointed back at the murky sky. “What is it? Where did Daddy go?”
    The curious crowd, so much the braver, spilled in to fill the void around them and planted a ring of firestalks in the rich, black soil.
    “It’s a bird.”
    “Or a birdless wing I think.”
    “No, look, it is skin and meat.”
    “But alive. A slab of flesh that flies.”
    “What beast is sliced knuckle thick and lives?”
    It flapped slowly to an entrancing rhythm, holding steady in the air. The other two figures, yet enshrouded, loomed like omens high behind.
    Morio whispered in her ear. “That, my dear, is called an og and a very fine one at that. But I’m afraid I don’t know your daddy. Perhaps we can find him together.”
    He stepped in closer and stroked her cheek with a stubby but tender hand. “Why, look, you have eyes of tan like mine. What is your name, my wee cousin of color?”
    “Jixy…” She paused for a moment, remembering. “Jixy Poxum Mox.”
    “Well then, Lady Mox,” he said with a nod, “it is truly my honor to meet you today… and in this lovely place no less.”
    She couldn’t help but giggle at him. It was just the look of his sweet, fat face framed by such a mop on top — all curlicues and long brown locks that sat on his head like a fernage bush.
    The mopster motioned to have his young friend put Jixy gently down. Then he took her by the hand.
    The first edge of moonrise cut open the azure and out spilled some of summer’s wealth. A glimpse of heaven’s treasure. It washed over all in pale gold and shadow.
    The young woman plunged the sta ff of her torch hard into the ground then clapped hands twice. At that the og took off and flew a loop between the other two, disrobing them along the way. Then it sailed to the old, gray Liar’s Tree where it wrapped around a twisted bough.
    “What trick is this?!” yelled an elderwoman, shaking her toiling stick at the sky.
    “Two more of these wingy things?”
    But t hese were bigger than the first and fairly hairy too. Free of disguise they began to act up, like young pups darting in all directions, one with a kind of cackling shriek, the other its own low growl. They seemed to take pleasure in stalking each other — a dogfight right over the heads of the folk. At each pass they crashed then passed again. They slapped and nipped and tangled up, nearly tumbling to the ground.
    Some boys pushed their way to the front of the crowd to get a closer look. Three of these, the brothers Hurx, came with pummel stones and a mind to use them. Pyr was not the oldest