Sweet Tongue

Sweet Tongue still had Mollie’s sword. Malik’s heart sank to depths he figured it would never rise from. He had really hoped the monster would take care of Sweet Tongue. Malik had let every hope of happiness ride on the idea Sweet Tongue was dead, or somewhere slowly dying. 

That was not the case. The fact remained Sweet Tongue was very much alive. 

“What happened to your friends?” Malik asked. 

It was moments like these he wondered where his mouth received permission to talk. 

Sweet Tongue laughed. “They are a little held up, but you should not have to worry about them.” 

Sweet Tongue showed no remorse for the mercenaries dying for him. He only had one goal in mind. To get the relic Egg held. Malik still did not know what Sweet Tongue could do with such a piece of history, but after seeing the paintings, he wanted him to have it even less than before. 

“All you have to worry about is handing the box over to me. After that, you can all peacefully die. I planned to keep you around for a while. A consolation prize for Malum taking Abrie, but I don’t have the time or the patience for you anymore.” Sweet Tongue stepped forward. 

Malik and the others did not have weapons to fight Sweet Tongue with. Malik lost his bow when they were first captured. Mollie’s sword was in Sweet Tongue’s hand. Embre and Khris were not fighters and would not be of any help even if they had weapons to use. 

Their last hope had been the monster guarding the cave. It had failed and now Sweet Tongue was not only a Tempre, but he was also a dragon slayer. 

Egg tucked the box behind its back. It was still a beacon drawing everyone’s eyes. The color pulsed with each breath Egg took. Even Sweet Tongue was quiet a moment as he processed what he saw. 

Malik tried to think of the best way out of this situation. He knew giving the box to Sweet Tongue meant everyone in the room’s death and everyone outside the room’s death potentially. He knew also not giving the cube to Sweet Tongue meant death for everyone; two terrible options and no wonderful solution.

Sweet Tongue took another step forward. He was not afraid of Malik, Embre, or Khris. Sweet Tongue’s eyes darted from Mollie, who he had seen kill Egg’s mother, and then to Egg who held the cube, but also had giant claws hanging from his hands. 

“Would be over nice and easy if you just took that from the little creature and handed it to me,” Sweet Tongue said to Mollie. 

“Kill us first,” Mollie replied. 

Malik figured Sweet Tongue intended to do just that. If he could kill a dragon, then he could kill four defenseless humans and a small monster. 

“You know Abrie would have been proud to know his pupils did not run away like he did. At the first chance, Abrie tucked his tail and ran into the night.” Sweet Tongue’s eyes glanced to Malik. 

Malik wanted to ignore the words again, but they itched at him. 

“You know nothing about Abrie,” Malik felt frustration rising in him. A combination of everything he had gone through since the first time he had seen one of those monsters. 

“Don’t I?” Sweet Tongue stopped coming forward. 

Malik knew Sweet Tongue was not giving them time. Sweet Tongue tried to provide himself an opportunity to strike. 

“Not if you believe him a coward,” Malik replied. 

Sweet Tongue never lowered the sword he held in his hands. He would be ready to strike with the briefest of movements and Malik knew their lives hung on a thread. 

“I know him to be a coward. You know him to be a Saint like bard, but he is no Saint. Abrie was worse than I ever imagined becoming. How do you imagine I became who I am? Without his help, I would still be just like you.” Sweet Tongue looked into Malik’s eyes. 

Malik knew Sweet Tongue had hinted at Abrie teaching him something, but Malik could not imagine what it was. Had Sweet Tongue been a bard in the past? Did he abandon Abrie to become a Tempre Warrior?

“What did you do to betray him?” Malik asked. 

Malik pressed the conversation. Maybe if he could draw Sweet Tongue’s full attention, then Mollie and Egg could come up with something to get them out of this mess. It was small, but it was a pesky glimmer of hope. 

“What did I do to betray him? How much do you know, child?” Sweet Tongue focused on Malik only now. 

Malik felt the familiar shiver run up his spine. He would have rather been anywhere else in the world than here under Sweet Tongue’s scrutinizing gaze. Here he was though, and he had no choice but to keep the focus on him long enough; or it would not matter. 

“I know enough to know that you are a liar and a murderer,” Malik said. 

Sweet Tongue nodded his head. “That much is true, but what do you actually know of your best friend, Abrie?” 

Malik tried to think about what he remembered about Abrie. It was little beyond all the years they spent together in travel. Anything beyond the day Malik had met him, he knew nothing at all. Abrie would never talk about his past. His past was behind him and he was looking forward. Those were the words Abrie had said every time Malik bothered to ask. 

“It does not matter,” Malik said, without conviction. 

Malik figured Sweet Tongue would turn back to Mollie and Egg. His game with Malik was over. He would see the defeat building in Malik’s eyes. 

“I will tell you one little thing about your friend.” Sweet Tongue stepped closer to Malik, sword tip still pointing out before him. 

Malik could almost feel the tip of the sharp blade. He knew what it felt like to have a blade that sharp cut. Minus had shown him not too long ago. Malik still had the wound on his throat to remind him. 

“After I tell you, I doubt you will call him friend for much longer. Maybe you can get the notion of helping him out of your little head.” Sweet Tongue licked his lips with his darting tongue. “Once upon a time, Abrie was not just a simple traveling bard. The music he played was to a different tune.” Sweet Tongue flipped the blade in his hand. 

Malik followed the rounding sword until it fell back into Sweet Tongue’s hand. Sweet Tongue had drawn in real close to Malik. 

“Abrie -your friend⎯was a killer just like me.” Sweet Tongue breathed almost directly into Malik’s ear. “He may have had you fooled, but he never found you on the road. He did not save you, boy.” Sweet Tongue leaned in so close his lips grazed Malik’s ear. Malik was too afraid to move. “He is the reason you needed saving at all.” 

Then just like that, Sweet Tongue jumped backward from Malik. Malik had no time to think about his reaction. He had no time to assess the situation. Before Malik could tell himself to stop, his legs, pained and screaming, pushed off from their rooted spot on the cave floor. Malik did not have far to cover before reaching Sweet Tongue. If Sweet Tongue had not underestimated him, or if he had even thought it a possibility, then Malik would have been dead already. Sweet Tongue could not have guessed what Malik would do, because Malik could never have guessed he could do it. 

Sweet Tongue stumbled back, dropping Mollie’s sword. Malik grew red with exertion, wrapping his hands around Sweet Tongue’s throat. Sweet Tongue’s eyes bulged, not from the pressure, but from shock. Malik heard the sword clatter to the ground and squeezed harder. This was his one shot to end everything here and now. This was the shot he had to make up for every time he had ever paused. Sweet Tongue’s hands grasped Malik’s wrist. Malik could feel the undeniable strength behind those fingers. Sweet Tongue pulled Malik’s hands and took large gasping breaths. Malik could not hold, and he knew this. There was no way for him to out fight Sweet Tongue, he would lose his grip in a matter of moments and Sweet Tongue would get up, and kill them all one by one. 

Sweet Tongue pressed, with his thumb, into Malik’s wrist. Malik felt the sudden urge to open his hands. No longer choking, Sweet Tongue bucked his hips, throwing Malik over him and onto the floor. Malik felt the white-hot flash of pain as his body smacked onto a rock. Before he could open his eyes, he heard another grunt and then something fell on top of him. Malik groaned at the pain and opened his eyes. Draping across him, very much unconscious, was Sweet Tongue. Standing over him was Mollie, holding her father’s sword. In her hands it glowed brightly. 

“You kill him?” Malik asked with some effort. 

Mollie shook her head. “I told you I am not killing anyone ever again.” 

Malik looked at Sweet Tongue and wished she would reconsider the opinion just this once. Everything he had told him about Abrie, everything he had done to the world, Sweet Tongue deserved to die. 

“Let’s get out of here before he wakes up, or before something else comes for us,” Khris said. 

He grabbed Mollie by the hand and turned her as he spoke. Malik pushed Sweet Tongue from his chest. He could still kill him before they left. He had never made such a bargain. Would it make him any different though? If he killed Sweet Tongue would he be any better than him? Maybe he would. If he killed Sweet Tongue now, then Sweet Tongue could kill no one else again. He would save the world with a single life taken. Malik felt Mollie’s fingers under his arm. 

“Come on, Malik.” 

Malik’s resolve broke. She was right, they had to get out of this cave. They had what they came for. They would bring the relic to the old man and then maybe Malik could fade off into the sunset. 

Malik pushed himself to his feet with Mollie’s help. Embre stepped to the other side of him, but he waved her away with a thanks. 

“What do we do now?” Embre asked. 

Malik had decided about what he would do next. He would get the relic to the old man, like they had promised, and then he would return to being a simple bard. What the others did was up to them, but it was no longer his problem. 

Malik took the first step back the way they had come. He did not take a second glance at Sweet Tongue. Hopefully the man would never wake up. Maybe he would rot here in this cave for eternity. It was more than he deserved. 

How much of what Sweet Tongue had said was true? How much of it really mattered? Malik told himself he did not care. Either way, he would get out of this mess. Abrie was not coming back. If what Sweet Tongue said was true, then it was for the best. 

Malik winced, but not from the pain in his body. Thinking of Abrie being gone hurt, even if he tried to convince himself it did not. If Abrie was dead, then Malik was truly alone. If Abrie was not dead, then Malik could still ask him face to face. 

“Are you okay?” Mollie asked, grabbing Malik by the shoulder. 

Malik shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Let’s just get out of here.” 

Everyone looked more than willing to oblige the request. There was nothing left for any of them in this place.