Rise of the Punch Monkey

Chapter 39

As I began to detail my evening a commotion set about the dinning hall. Students shuffled in hurried steps and excited murmuration toward the exits, like lines of ants toward the training yard. Alyssia and I exchanged glances of concern then stood and joined the herd, making our way outside. As we moved through the throngs my shoulder was jostled, causing Nylix to take flight and I turned to find Roland suddenly at my side.

"What going on?" I asked, our pace quickening.

"The dungeon guard, Morris, was killed sometime last night," he said, and I stopped in my tracks causing Roland and Alyssia to hold in theirs.

"Morris was killed?" I asked, my anger flaring as I was suddenly reminded of the world where phones would appear at traffic accidents and street brawls. "And everyone is just going out there to gawk?"

"It's not so much the death they are looking to glimpse, Chuvo, but the...well...I can't exactly explain it myself." The somber tone in which he spoke was something so out of character for him that it put me slightly off balance.

I began to feel my curiosity tug at me again and I begrudgingly allowed it. We moved our way passed the bottle neck of the doors and into the field. The crowd was nearly impossible to see through and I could hear Mr. Scarasongi barking orders from its epicenter.

"Back up!" he cried followed by an older, aged voice.

Nylix found a perch on my head and I looked up at her and whispered. "Can you see if you can find a better vantage point?"

The bird just chirped and cocked it head at me.

"Nylix?" I said, her lack of response confusing.

"You all heard Mr. Scarasongi," came the Dean. "I'll need all the students to move back."

We were forced several steps backwards as bodies halted, then shuffled rearward to heed the instructions. Roland whistled softly next to me then flicked his head upward. I followed his gaze and knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Alyssia," I said, tugging at her elbow, "this way." I flicked my head in the direction Roland was already heading and she immediately understood as well.

We made our way around the crowd and up into the obstacle course's high rise balancing beam. As I climbed to the top the scene below, surrounded by milling bodies, caused my jaw to drop. The guard shack had been ripped to shreds, three long gashes, like giant claw marks rending through its walls and roof. A large smoldering crater sat a few steps away from the shack surrounded by smaller holes accented in dark black streaks staining the ground. My eyes cast about the remnant tales of the battlefield trying to piece together what could have possibly happen when I found him. Morris, or what was left of him, was crumpled into a bloody heap near the dungeon entrance, a splattering trails of blood arching behind him and painting the wall in what appeared to be the images of bloody birds.

"By the blessed light of High One," breathed Alyssia.

"Roland..." I said, my eyes unable to leave the scene, "what is..."

Roland was silent and stared grimly below. "Non, Chuvo. I have no idea."

Mr. Scarasongi moved across the scarred earth toward Morris and with a wave of his hand erected walls of sand around him, conserving the deceased man's dignity. The dean watched and nodded then turned toward crowd as other instructors made their way through the swarm of students.

"Nylix. Hey!" I whispered again in a harsher tone causing Alyssia to give me a questioning look. I smiled awkwardly at her and mentally swore at the bush witch as I turned my attention the goings-on below.