Gaia's Secret (31 page)

The creature dug his gnarled hand into his
over-sized potato sack pocket and pulled out a small vial filled
with clear liquid. With his fingernail, he scooped out some of the
black paste and dipped it into the flask. But the liquid didn’t
turn black. It bubbled viciously for a few seconds and turned a
puke-green. The smell made bile rise in my throat.

He thrust the flask inches from my face and
spoke in a grinding voice, “You drink!”

There was no way I was going to drink
that.

Alex bent his head so that his lips were at
my ear. “It’s for your ankles. It’s not going to kill you.”

“Yeah, but the smell might.”

Alex sighed and backed away, and the creature
held the flask before my nose.

Even though the vial smelled like death, I
knew one fact for certain. If there was one thing Alex didn’t lie
about, it was my safety.

Hesitating, I took the mystery flask from
Little Frankenstein’s hand. His round, black eyes followed my every
move, scowling liked he was completely insulted I was taking so
long. As I lifted the flask to my lips, the little creature grunted
loudly for emphasis—just in case I missed his visual
demonstration.

Very slowly, I tilted it until the liquid
touched my tongue, and gagged. Right over Little Frankenstein’s
scrunched face. He clenched his fists at his sides as a frothy
mixture of green liquid and spit dripped from his wrinkled brow and
nose.

“That’s disgusting!” I wiped the residue from
my lips.

Alex arched a brow. “Well, your highness,
it’s not hot chocolate.”

“All right, Mr. Protector,” I grunted. “Why
don’t you give it a try then?”

“Grool,” Alex turned to the fuming creature.
“Do you have a cure for obstinacy? She’s desperately in need of
one.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I
could say a word, Little Frankenstein had pinched my nose and
shoved the flask to my lips.

The liquid burned. I felt like my throat was
dissolving, then my stomach, and the burning continued down,
through my limbs, into my legs, through my ankles, all the way down
to my toes.

My ankles. There was no more pain. I wiggled
them to be sure. Nothing.

The creature ripped the flask from my lips
and shoved it down in his belt. And just as I thought he was going
to leave, he paused before Alex. He glared at Alex’s arm with wide
eyes, and scrunched his face in disgust. Pinching the large flaps
of his aquiline nose, he fixed an icy glare on Alex and scurried
away.

“Your ankles are healed, I see.” Alex lifted
his hand from my leg.

Now that we were safe and sound in the
confines of Frankenstein’s Bed and Breakfast, his hesitation was
gone. All I felt was his anger—for leaving them.

Maybe I should’ve pretended my ankles were
still broken.

“What happened?” Sonya came and sat beside
me.

All three of them stared, but Sonya’s gaze
was the only one tender enough to give me confidence to answer.

“I just…needed some air, so I went for a
walk—“

“Was the air so different a hundred yards
away?” Cicero’s face was bright red, and that vein started bulging
in his neck again.

I fixed my features. I wouldn’t let them make
me feel guilty. Not after all they’d lied about. “Yes.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t killed!” Cicero
continued. “You have no idea what’s in this forest. Don’t
ever
walk away like that again, do I make myself clear?”

I glared at the fire. Any clearer, I’d be
looking right through him. It wasn’t my fault I was ignorant about
the dangers in this world. It was theirs. They’d never bothered
telling me.

Tran lingered in the doorway with a large
cloth covered basket in his hands. There was a sad smile on his
face, but it warmed his features and erased any hesitation I’d had
with the man. I’d never known a grandfather, but if I had the
choice, I think I would’ve picked someone like him.

He left the shelter of the narrow doorway and
walked towards us with the basket. The smell of sweet bread was so
strong that my mouth started watering. And I was anxious to rid
myself of the taste of Grool’s rancid liquid.

“Oh, wonderful.” He smiled. “I see your bones
are healed.”

Tran pulled back a cloth, tempting me with a
steaming treasure of enormous fluffy rolls. I dove into the
pillage. They were warm and doughy, falling apart in my hands as I
shoved a bite in my mouth. It was almost better than Thad’s
brownbutter loaf. Almost.

“Grool informs me you’ve received a rather
nasty injury.” Tran looked at Alex.

Alex waved it off. “It’s fine.”

I was just about to tell Tran that Alex was
lying when I caught myself. If I said that, then they’d ask how I
knew and I’d have to explain how I’d been sensing their feelings.
And I didn’t want them knowing that.

“I restricted the poison to the wound,” Sonya
said. “His health has been strong ever since.”

Tran smiled, leaning towards Alex. He reached
out a withered palm. “May I?”

Alex was wary but didn’t argue. Tran’s
movements were slow and deliberate as he rolled back Alex’s
shirtsleeve.

I had to keep myself from gagging. The scab
oozed, threads of his shirtsleeve were stuck to it, and the skin
around it was bright red. I felt a surge of immense pain from Alex,
but when I met his gaze the feeling disappeared. He’d been
suppressing more pain than I realized. “You carried me
with…that?”

His expression was unreadable.

Tran ran bony fingers over the scab, brows
fixed in concentration. “Sonya.” He glanced up. “I’m surprised you
had any strength left after this.”

Cicero clutched his wife’s hand between both
of his.

“I did everything I could,” she said.

Tran’s smile was proud. “And you did a
marvelous job. This should have killed him.”

I almost choked on my roll. “Killed him?” I
coughed. “Alex, what were you thinking?”

“He was thinking he wanted you safe,” Tran
said. “Barghest poison is one of the deadliest. It’s almost
impossible to cure, but I believe—” he examined the wound “—after
your mother’s excellent care, I should be able to rid you of it for
good. It is fortunate you have such a talented mother.”

Alex met Sonya’s tender gaze.

Tran shut his eyes. He trailed his fingers
along the wound, his lips barely moving. At first nothing happened,
but as I watched, the scab started changing. It fell away and
disappeared into thin air, piece by small piece, and in its place
was a patch of new skin. The last piece fell, and a black wisp of
smoke curled into the air. A horrible barghest cry pierced through
the room so loudly I covered my ears. The smoke began to disappear,
like a black thread being pulled into a vacuum, and suddenly
vanished, taking that alien shrieking with it.

The room was silent.

When I looked back at Alex, his arm was as
good as new, aside from a faint pink scar.

“There.” Tran rested his hand on Alex’s arm.
“I think that should do the trick.”

“Thank you.” Alex looked respectfully at
Tran.

Tran smiled. “I’m afraid that scar will
remain a permanent addition to your physique. Hope that’s not a
problem?”

For some reason, Tran was looking at me.

“By the way, child, you fought well against
that Pykan.”

“That thing back there was a Pykan?” I didn’t
know what I expected them to look like, but the picture in my head
was definitely something more…human.

“Yes, and he might have had you, too. His
friend was pretty good at keeping me distracted. We were fortunate
Alex arrived because once that Pykan wrapped his blasted snakeroot
around your ankles, I was certain you were lost.”

“Snakeroot?”

“A Pykan trademark. Their powers lie with the
more…sadistic vegetation in this world. Snakeroot is one of their
tools, and can only be removed by magic.”

“You said they’ve been following us?” Cicero
asked.

“Yes, and you’ve also had a trio of guards on
your trail, though I think we got them off your scent.” Tran
scratched his chin, thoughtful.

That village—the one where we tried to find a
witchdoctor for Alex. Three guards had been there, waiting for us,
and at the last moment an enormous, black bird flew from the trees.
Had it been…Tran’s? Had he helped us then?

“But,” Tran continued, “Pykans aren’t quite
as easy to divert. Grool has been keeping an eye on them. Grool was
also the one that noticed our dear Daria walking away.”

Oh, no, not back to this.

“And
why
were you walking away?” Sonya
asked.

I looked away from her, right into Alex’s
penetrating gaze.

“I believe—” Tran’s warm eyes were on me
“—Pykans can be quite hypnotizing when they want to be. Poor Daria
found herself entrapped.”

Little Frankenstein returned, this time
carrying a tray of steaming ceramic mugs.

“Ah, yes. Have you formally met our guests?”
Tran eyed Grool, and Grool glared directly at me. Come to think of
it, glaring might have been more polite. Grool looked like he
wanted me to drop dead on the couch.

“Cicero, Alex, Daria, meet Grool. Sonya, I
don’t believe introductions are necessary?”

She smiled and shook her head.

“Grool has remained a faithful and
trustworthy companion for me all these years.” Tran waved Grool
over to his side and whispered something in his ear. Grool slammed
the tray down with a loud
clank
, and stalked out of the room
with his fists clenched, mumbling and grumbling all the way.

“Forgive him,” Tran whispered. “Brownies are
quite territorial and don’t understand the concept of manners.”

So Little Frankenstein was a brownie? My list
of “things that shouldn’t exist, but really do” was growing so long
I was going to have to start organizing it into subcategories. I
could see it now, “Brownie” written right above “Deadly Slinky”,
“Pixie”, and “Barghest” under a heading entitled “Things That Want
Me Dead.” Actually, I didn’t think there were any other
categories.

I heard a quick patter and Grool reappeared.
He marched straight to his tray, yanked it from the floor, and
practically threw all the mugs in our faces. Well, except mine. He
dropped that one at my feet, letting the contents spill all over
the floor, and he stormed back out of the room. Tran frowned after
the little fiend.

“Tran,” Cicero said. “Do you hear much of the
realm in these parts?”

“Not the kind you seek. I hear the usual:
pixies fighting for flowers’ rights, the conscia trees boycotting
fruit production. You know—” Tran held his hand to his mouth as
though he were telling me a secret “—conscia fruit are Lord
Commodus’ absolute favorite. They’re vengeful creatures, those
conscia trees, and their memory is quite astounding. Still angry at
Lord Commodus’ great-great-great grandfather for cutting one down
centuries ago. Bah.” He waved his hand at the air like he was
slapping it. “They’re all histrionics. If magical creatures weren’t
plagued with narcissism, this world might be a peaceful place. But
I digress.” He sighed and his ashy brow furrowed. ”I know what
you’re asking, Aegis Cicero,” his tone turned serious. “And I have
heard rumors. Ones that are very disturbing indeed.”

“About the villages outside of Orindor?”
Cicero asked.

“Yes.” Tran’s mouth formed a line as he
stared at the fire. “Gargons.”

“That’s what Otis said.” Alex looked at his
father, every ounce of I-told-you-so written across his face.

“But that’s impossible,” Cicero said,
ignoring him. “No one I know has seen anything.”

Tran stared at nothing. “Recently, I traveled
to a few villages beyond the interest of King Darius—there are a
good number of them, you know. Upon such a visit, I saw one myself.
Wouldn’t have believed it otherwise. Burnt down half the village
before I frightened it away.”

“A gargon is a dragon…right?” I asked, trying
to remember what Alex had said.

Tran walked over to a low bookshelf and
pulled a thick volume with a tattered leather cover and began
flipping through the pages. He halted on one and gazed over it with
a frown. Thus satisfied with his findings, he handed the book to
me.

“A concordance of monsters. Watch out,
though.” He winked. “They tend to forget they’re on paper.”

Yes, he was definitely Gandalf’s crazy
twin.

I took the book from his hands. The word
“Gargon”
was scrolled across the top of the page. Drawn
beneath was a creature that matched my idea of a dragon: narrow,
dark, and muscular reptilian body with enormous bat-like wings. But
the wings were…moving, flapping on the page without actually going
anywhere. A tail whipped behind it, one with sharp points jutting
out from the end. Fiery red eyes glowed on the paper with fury,
white fangs curved over a narrow black lip. Two long slits existed
where its nose should have been with steam billowing out of them,
even out of the page before my eyes. Its powerful jaws opened,
revealing more layers of razor sharp teeth, which, unfortunately,
also decided to come out of the page. I slammed the book shut
before a drawing could bite me.

Note to self: Add “Drawings” to list of
“Things That Want Me Dead.”

Tran grinned. “Don’t say I didn’t warn
you.”

“That’s what attacked that village?” I handed
the book back to him, not wanting to peruse it further. I intended
to keep my fingers.

“Without a doubt,” Tran said.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Cicero said.

Tran clasped his hands. “There are many
things lately that lack sense.”

“How long have you known about the Pykans?”
Sonya asked.

“Not until recently, and I believe the
Council isn’t aware of them either, or at least they aren’t
saying.”

“The Council is in session?” Cicero
frowned.