The Emerald Dragon (The Lost Ancients Book 3) (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Unfortunately, the next day dawned with Carlon still around. Covey had come back a few hours before dawn, dropped all of our stuff in the wagon, then woke me up so I could explain what in the hell I was doing.

If Orenda heard us, she gave no sign, and her uneven snoring told me she was probably wiped out and actually sleeping. After she’d recovered from her collapse, she seemed like a different woman. Not sure better or worse, but definitely different.

Covey and I had bantered back and forth for a bit about the wisdom of what I was thinking in joining up with them. However, after I reminded her that we needed to find Alric, and this was a free trip to the last place we thought he was headed, she didn’t argue anymore. She briefly filled me in on what had happened though.

When I hadn’t come back, she and Harlan had started searching for me and found one of the changelings who had seen the entire thing from hiding in a tree. He wouldn’t say who had dragged him into the ground before, or why they released him, but was willing to help Covey find me as long as she didn’t ask questions about who originally hired them.

Once she’d found out from Orenda more about Locksead’s gang and where they likely took me, Covey convinced the changelings to disguise themselves as gryphons and help capture the relic thieves and leave them for the guards.

I was the first of us three to wake up, thanks to Carlon stomping about in front of the wagons. The man had probably only gotten a few hours’ sleep, but clearly he was determined to get us all on the road before the sun. Locksead might be the leader, but I had a feeling that Carlon was the evil mastermind.

Maybe perpetual lack of sleep was what made him so disagreeable.

I toyed with rolling over on my tiny bed and trying to sleep some more, but then Locksead started shouting orders to get people out of their beds. More importantly, I could smell breakfast.

I rousted the other two and we left the wagon. I didn’t see any sight of the faeries and tried to call them without thinking. I froze and waited for the backlash, but my head refrained from exploding.

And I was swarmed by a dozen faeries.

“We here. Is good now.” Garbage was practically cheerful.

I narrowed my eyes and studied all of the faeries. They seemed happy but not speed crazy. Still. “Did someone give you tea?”

“No. Better.” Crusty did one of her crazed spirals then spun around the front wheel of the wagon. The doll carriage Tag had shown me sat there, clearly explored by the faeries. It would be a bit of a squeeze, but all twelve of them should fit.

Tag stuck his head from around the front of the wagon. “I already had it in the wagon when we fled. I kinda heard about your faeries when I was in town, and thought after all this you could give it to them.”

Crusty Bucket looped over to him and sat on his head. Some folks might take exception to that, but Tag looked like she’d showered him in gold.

“Grab some food, and then load up.” Locksead had been conferring with Carlon and Jackal, then turned to all of us. “We’ve got a group looking for us. They’re moving slow, but they’ve got some weird animal with them. We can’t see it, but we can hear it. We leave now.”

I turned to Covey. “Would Foxy keep looking for us?” I couldn’t imagine any animal he’d have on hand that would freak out a hardened thief like Locksead, but who knew.

She shook her head as she gathered things to go back into our wagon. The girls’ carriage was the first thing inside. “No. I talked to him when I gathered our stuff. He’ll send someone around regularly to check on our places. I also left a note for the dean at the university, telling him I was extending my sabbatical. No one should be looking for us.”

Harlan escorted Orenda to our wagon, and from the look in his eyes, he was looking for another wife. The fact that I was still seeing that look on Locksead’s face when he looked at her wasn’t a good sign.

“Now, even in these rickety conveyances, we should get to Kenithworth within two weeks. If you need to take a rest at any time, simply tell Tag to pull over.” Harlan clapped a paw on Tag’s shoulder with enough force to almost bowl the boy over. “Our boy and I will take care of you.”

The wince on Tag’s face was probably more from being put between Orenda, Harlan, and Locksead’s triangle than the actual blow. But he simply smiled and got into the driver’s seat.

Harlan beamed at Covey and I, then drifted over to his assigned wagon.

“Let’s move people!” Locksead was in the lead wagon and didn’t wait for anyone to respond before moving out.

Covey was the last in and she took the bench opposite Orenda.

“So how did you fall in with these brigands anyway?”

I was surprised Covey wouldn’t have asked her that when it first came out I’d been kidnapped. Most likely Covey’s focus at that time was finding me. Unfortunately for Orenda, that focus would now be on her and she was trapped in a moving wagon with a persistent professor.

“Like I said previously, something was taken from my people. My clan is xenophobic, and they wouldn’t go into the world to get it. So I did.” She drifted off a bit as she looked out the window, but a cough from Covey brought her back. “While I was tracking it down here, I ran across Locksead and Carlon. Locksead can be charming and he said he had a plan to get some rare elven artifacts, but they needed a woman accomplice.” She shrugged. “My trail had gone cold, and I didn’t have much in the way of money, I had no idea how expensive things were out here, so I joined them.”

“And then you left?”

Orenda blushed heavily at that. “I thought I had found a life mate. I was wrong, he left me. I decided to go back to looking for my artifact on my own.” She frowned. “But the leads I had vanished. I don’t think it’s this far south.”

All questions about more details about the emerald dragon were met with silence. She might have helped them find me, but she didn’t trust us.

The wagon hit something large and far less mobile than it was and we all almost fell off our seats. Tag was doing a decent job of driving, but the ruins were too heavily tree filled to be good for anything with wheels. The faeries had all started out inside the wagon but were already working on pushing the window open to get out.

“Wait. Before you leave,” I held the window that Dingle Bottom and Penqow were pushing against, “where is Bunky?” I hadn’t been too worried when the girls first showed up without him. He often went to go hang out with the wild faeries and Queen Mungoosey. However, I had no idea how long this trip would take and I didn’t want him missing us.

“That who we get,” Garbage said as if obviously I should have known that. “He following followers. We get him back.”

Following the followers? Damn, trying to get what he was seeing via the faeries would not be easy. I braced myself as the wagon started gaining speed—and bumps.

“Get him, see what you can of who is behind us, and then find us quickly.” I felt better now that I knew my magic was as good as it ever was, so I should be able to call them, but I was still worried about being separated too long.

The faeries all crammed out of the window all at once, not waiting for me to open it further.

Orenda was watching them and a small smile crept across her face.

“Not as scary as your myths say, are they?”

She shook her head. “It seems as if many of our stories were wrong. Speaking of stories, back in the forest you had mentioned an elf friend?”

I wasn’t thrilled about talking about Alric with her. However, the more I could get her to talk, the greater the chance she might start talking about something of interest. Like her people or this damn emerald dragon. Too many people were looking for it, and we still weren’t certain if it was related to the other two artifacts.

“Well, not sure what all to say. His name is Alric. He’s an elf and his clan is at least a week’s ride to the west. But he’s only been in town less than a year.” That made me stop; had it really been less than a year? On one hand, it seemed like he’d been in my life forever, but on the other, a recent annoyance. I guess it depended on whether he was pissing me off or charming me.

Orenda leaned forward. “That’s an auspicious name, if his people kept to the old ways like my people did. What is his family name?”

I looked to Covey and shrugged. Great, here this man was becoming a possible contender for the big love of my life, and I never asked him for his last name? “I have to say—”

“It’s Glasene. Alric de Glasene. Merchant family from what he told us,” Covey said with a smile of complete honesty. Her lying was artistic.

Orenda had deflated a bit at the name. And probably at the merchant classification. Most likely, she was far higher up the food chain in her clan.

Voices outside were yelling now and the wagon bounced badly, tossing us to the floor. Tag kept yelling at the horses, but clearly we were still in the ruins and they did not have many speed options.

“We stand and fight!” That was Locksead and the wagon came to an abrupt stop at his words.

Chapter Thirty

I looked around the wagon for anything I could use to fight with. Covey didn’t need weapons although she pulled out her newly acquired sword. Later I’d have to ask her where she got it.

Orenda rolled over to her back and pulled free her bow and quiver, then a pair of short swords. She handed one to me. “Can you use this?”

I took it with a nod. I wasn’t great. Like my magic, the sword lessons had been slow going. Alric insisted that practice would get me there and at some point, there would be a snap, and I’d get it. I had my doubts about that; swords never seemed to feel balanced right to me. However, I knew enough for the weapon in my hand to be an asset not a hindrance. Probably.

The wagon started moving again, but this time slowly and in a circle. We must have found a meadow to take a stand in.

The faeries hadn’t come back yet, but if they were following whoever was behind us, they should be here soon. Covey swung open the door and the bright light of early morning hit us all in the face. After being in a dark forest and even darker ruins the last day, it was a bit of a shock. Not to mention dangerous. I almost broke my neck falling down the steps after Covey.

I caught myself and held my borrowed sword out from my body just in case the damn thing went rogue on me.

The four wagons formed in almost a square, with the horses hidden off in the woods. I took up a position behind one of the driver’s seats and looked out into the forest behind us.

The forest was silent at first. Then a growing rustling sound came from the direction we’d come from. I wasn’t sure how Locksead feared they were already upon us, based on the length of time it was taking for them to get to us.

“This is taking forever,” I said under my breath to Covey. Not that I wanted to try to defend myself against some army of strange creatures that had freaked out a bunch of hardened criminals, but I hated waiting.

She gave me an odd look. “It’s only been a few minutes. Probably less than three.” She looked down at my left hand. “And you might want to relax your hand a bit. Your knuckles look like they’re frozen in place.”

I glanced down. Yup, five little white rocks had replaced my knuckles. I switched hands and shook out my left fist. One of the things Alric had been diligent about was teaching me to fight with either hand. As he pointed out you had to figure that in any fight you could be injured. And injured but still able to fight was better than dead.

The rustling noises got stronger, and larger branches started moving. Had those damn crazy brownies tried to make another golem? And this time made it work? I still was having a problem seeing those little lawn ornaments as anything beyond an annoyance. Of course, that would have been different if that first golem had stayed together long enough to hurt anything besides my sense of smell.

The noise got much louder and everyone hunkered down behind their cover. Even Harlan had a weapon, more of a heavy-looking long pole really, but he had claimed to be wicked good with a quarterstaff in his young and wild days. I hoped he was right and his furry bulk wouldn’t take more hits than the enemy.

A low crooning filled the air, almost dirge-like, and the branches of the trees at that end of the meadow moved as if an invisible wind rustled them.

Then the creatures came into the clearing.

I took a breath and tried to keep from laughing. It was another golem, but this one had been made in haste, and the parts kept slipping about. One moment it was bipedal and walking on both legs, the next moment it had slipped a leg around and hobbled on a leg and an arm, then started shuffling on all fours. They must have had access to a large supply of cabbages because this time not only was its head one, but it seemed they were the dominant plant. They were however, far fresher than the parts used on the previous golem. Which made the creature less smelly, but also seemed to be contributing to its lack of cohesion.

The others tensed up, but I waved at them and stood up—the golem didn’t have projectiles unless it started flinging body parts, and the brownies at its feet only had their tiny swords. “It’s okay. I got this—”

My heroic offer was cut off by Carlon bursting from his hiding hole outside of our wagon circle, and laying waste to the golem. The creature fought back but it was hard when parts kept switching position and Carlon’s long sword hacked them off.

The brownies started defending it, only to find themselves dive bombed by a pack of faeries. My pack of faeries, who, judging by their excessive antics of annoyance to the brownies, had become quite bored while waiting. A reassuring buzz came through the trees, which was followed by Bunky. He dived for a few brownies, but didn’t seem to really see the need so he came over to me.

Orenda let loose an arrow at Bunky, but Covey smacked her bow a second before the release and the arrow missed Bunky but came very close to Carlon. Maybe if we tried harder we could hit him next time.

“He’s with us.” I grabbed her bow when it looked like she would go for another arrow. Bunky might be a construct but his kind could still be damaged or destroyed.

“What is that flying thing?” Locksead yelled as he ran out to join Carlon in hacking the golem and the brownies equally. Had to give the brownies’ credit, their creature stayed together better this time. And even though there were at least two dozen of the tiny beings, they were grossly out matched but they kept charging the two men. It was amazing how far they could fly when kicked, especially considering how thick the trees were.

“He’s my friend.” I wasn’t going to go shouting about Bunky in the middle of the forest. However, if Locksead wanted me on this caper he got the faeries and Bunky as well.

Bunky hunkered down behind me, landing on part of the wagon. He seemed to spend most of his time in the air, but who knew how long he had been flying around the last day or so.

The rest of the gang had come out from behind their wagons, but Carlon and Locksead didn’t look like they’d need help so everyone just watched.

The golem eventually collapsed, as the half-assed magic driving it was no longer able to keep it intact. Carlon took one final heavy swing and was rewarded with a shower of plant life as it finally fell apart. He was lucky this one hadn’t been decaying like the one I faced.

The brownies looked ready to stand and fight even without their plant monster, but when both Carlon and Locksead charged them, they all ran back into the woods.

Locksead grinned at Carlon, and the two ran after them.

“Even if we’re no longer being chased, don’t we need to get moving?” I looked around as the faeries came back to the wagons. No one else seemed concerned that their leader was off chasing mostly defenseless brownies. I wasn’t worried about the brownies, they were tougher than their size indicated. However, it seemed like a waste of time.

Cook shrugged and he and Jackal went to start moving the wagons out of formation so they could hook them back to the horses. Then an earth-shattering scream ripped through the air, followed by Locksead being thrown into the clearing. He didn’t get up. He bent awkwardly on his sword arm, so even if he had survived he wouldn’t be fighting any time soon.

Cook and Jackal jumped back into the ring of wagons, pulling the two they’d moved back into place. Orenda and the two other archers had their weapons aimed at the trail behind us, and those of us with swords were trying to appear at the ready. I ignored Tag’s shaking and he said nothing about mine.

Covey looked at the forest and growled.

I motioned for Bunky to stay down but waved the faeries to me. “I need you to fly through there fast and high. Don’t attack anything. Just see what is in there.”

Garbage fingered her war stick. I knew she had no intention of obeying me.

“I’m serious. No sticks. Recon only.”

She finally nodded and led her faeries into the branches. In that time, Carlon had started to come running out of the woods. A slithering rope grabbed his feet and dropped him. He twisted to get free, but the rope pulled him back into the woods too fast.

Covey again growled, this time at the people around her. “Your leaders are out there and you do nothing?”

The looks that met her glare were clear. This group had little solidarity, if any.

“So be it.” Covey bounded over the wagon at its highest point and charged into the woods.

“Damn it.” Covey’s sense of honor, even though I was pretty sure she disliked Carlon as much as I did, was going to get us killed. However, I couldn’t let her go out there alone. I looked to Harlan and we climbed out from the wagon grouping and followed.

“What are you idiots doing?” Jackal yelled, echoing the looks on the faces around him.

“Our friend went in there, to rescue your companion.” Harlan’s snarl was impressive but I could see the paw holding his staff was shaking. “We stand with her.”

Orenda looked at the others, then she and Tag followed us. More screams and yells filled the air around us, but none of them sounded like Carlon, or Covey, for that matter.

I couldn’t see what the four of us could do against something or somethings that had taken down Locksead, who still hadn’t moved, and Carlon. But Covey was in there and we had to do something.

We were entering the forest when a dark shape flung itself at us. At me actually. I screamed and shoved it off, not even thinking for a moment about the short sword in my hand.

It was Carlon. He was dazed and leaking blood from a few places, but he shoved himself off of me and ran back the way he’d been thrown.

He might be a jackass, but he clearly didn’t know when to stop fighting.

Orenda and I took point, her because of her bow, although it would be of limited use if we got much further into the trees, and me because that was how my life seemed to go. Besides, someone had to protect Tag and Harlan.

We cautiously walked a few more feet and saw that at least two of the brownies hadn’t made their escape. Their bodies had been shattered, and then tossed aside. Almost more disturbing were the emblems of a green dragon they’d all sewn onto their red caps. Our suspicion of the brownies following the rakasa appeared to be supported. Then who killed these? What else was out here?

Another couple of steps and I saw what I assumed was one of our enemy who hadn’t made it either. Locksead’s sword was pinned to a gapen tree. It went through a creature I hoped was one of a kind.

It didn’t wear clothing that I could tell, but there was a chance the dirty gray covering was clothing of some kind and not skin. It was pinned by the sword so its head was eye level with mine, but its skinny, clawed feet hung a good two feet from the ground. The huge eyes were white, but I didn’t think they started that way. One hand, ending in two-inch-long claw fingernails, clutched the sword running it through. But the worst was the mouth. If the sceanra anam had bred with a dwarf and been spelled for nothing but killing, you might have this mouth. Large enough to fit the head of a full-grown human inside, it seemed to be nothing but rows of sharp, triangle-shaped, and serrated teeth. I looked away when it was clear where some of the brownies had ended up.

“What is it?” Tag had come up closer than the others, but seemed more curious than terrified. I would have to work on him about the benefits of being terrified.

A sound behind us cut my answer of not having a clue off before I could say it. Orenda was leaning over a bush and throwing up.

When she stopped, she wiped her mouth off and turned back to the wagons. Her movements were robotic and all I heard was the word “no” repeatedly.

“Orenda? What is it?” Harlan tried to stop her but she pushed past him.

“Gklinn.”

“What? Look, you guys, either come with us or not. But we’re getting Covey back.” The woods were quiet right now, but I didn’t think that was a good thing.

“Demon, she said Gklinn, which means demon. That’s a rakasa.”

At Harlan’s identification, Orenda threw up again, although little remained in her stomach. Then she continued stumbling back to camp. She didn’t even look back at us once, and moved like a sleepwalker.

I admitted I wanted to join her in both situations. However, my best friend was out there.

I did wonder why, if the brownies were followers of the rakasa, the rakasa were killing them. Maybe the rakasa really didn’t like fans.

Another high-pitched scream filled the air. “Anyone who is with me, come on.”

I was pleased to hear both Harlan and Tag follow behind me.

The silence of the forest vanished into a wall of sound as the faeries started yelling war cries—so much for not fighting—and I heard Covey yelling a few choice swear words from her ancestors.

Then we found them. Carlon and Covey faced the creatures across from us and the faeries held a position in the air a few feet above them. There were only four of the little monsters, what I now assumed were the feared rakasa, but they held back. Fighting when anyone got too close, but mostly just to keep everyone away from the thing behind them.

I couldn’t see it as it was covered in leaves. For a moment, I thought maybe they had taken control of another one of the brownies’ golems. Then I saw one of the rakasa throw a brownie at the pile of leaves. Something within the pile gave a high and tortured scream, and then a clawed hand, far larger than the hands of the rakasa, darted out and grabbed the brownie. The chewing and crunching sounds made me think about joining Orenda in the throwing up thing.