“As much as I’m loath to admit it, yes. We needed back up or weapons. We were able to take out one, but it’s a miracle that neither Vegard nor I are dead. The death magic they possessed was far greater than I’d expected coming from such a sick looking people.”
I motioned over to Lola. “They had a weed in her. Do you know what those are?”
His eyebrows rose. “A magical curse used to drain another’s magic over time but at a high cost in the meantime. How long had it been present?”
I shrugged. “At least a decade. They came to town looking to cash in big time. Pammy had mentioned that they would go to a town and then just as soon as they finished wreaking havoc disappear for years. I don’t think they’ve been able to survive as long as they have off of their average drainings. The true source of their power came from the harvest.”
He nodded, taking in my words. “I’d say that is a good hypothesis, but we may never know for sure. Do you know if there were any others?”
“We killed a few earlier tonight. I think we wiped them out, but things like them tend to scurry into some dark place and come back when you least expect it. Pammy did take some journals and notebooks from them, so hopefully we’ll know more soon. Where is Vegard?”
“When we left, he thought he might be able to get some help that was close, and he went in search of it. I made some calls, and we should have reinforcements arriving soon.”
“Can I use that phone now?” I asked as the front door slammed open.
Pammy strode in the room, marching straight for us, her keen sight not missing a thing along her way, which included one dead witch in the back and my personal collection of four dead witch husks up front. She didn’t say anything at first, looking at the husks and then me and then back again. Then she did something very un-Pammy. She grasped me in her arms, her soft and steady frame feeling like pure strength despite her being a few inches shorter than me. Then she gave me two smacking kisses, one on each cheek, before taking my face in her hands.
“Sug, I don’t know how you did it, but I came in here expecting to find my protégé and all of her friends dead.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d have said there was a sheen of unshed tears in her eyes. The kind that suggested she had seen some shit, but she shook it off and released me walking a slow circle around the dead.
“This is gonna be a pain in the ass to take care of. Think Bruce’d let us borrow his truck?”
“If you can call him. My phone just died.”
She whipped hers out and began to make her phone-tree rounds. I caught bits and pieces: “If you didn’t wanna be on trash haul duty, why’d you buy a truck, rookie move…I know your girls want you to read them a bedtime story, but, girl, you’re gonna want John to do it….I’ll pay you, but it’s not every day you see the deadliest coven of drainers killed during their own ritual.” She mentioned that last one a few times.
“Everyone’s gonna think I’m a freak,” I muttered under my breath but not quiet enough.
“No, everyone’s gonna think you’re a badass, which may be worse.”
My eyes rolled to the ceiling. “I’m gonna ask. Why is that worse?”
“You are steadily building a reputation as someone not to be trifled with.” Deval broke in for Pammy. “It will bring you more dangerous jobs, high-paying jobs, but it will also bring desperados looking to make a name for themselves at your expense.”
“Mhmm.” Pammy affirmed.
“Greeeeat. Deval, think you could start spreading rumors around that in actuality I’ve just had a lucky streak, and I can act like a petulant child if denied caffeine?”
His barked laughter cut through the quiet dim of what must normally be a really cute chapel. “No, that would be worse, I think. Better to stick with the truth. You are a badass.”
I flushed a little under the praise but didn’t say anything to dispute it, as I’d decided to make it my new mantra. “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve had any caffeine, so we’d better get started because I’m going to crash any moment.”
Deval nodded, and we began to do our work. Pammy handed each of us a pair of gloves because Pammy was always prepared. The husks weighed less than I thought they would. Apparently when magic was harvested not much got left behind. It made it difficult to pile the people near the front door since they were fragile. Half of them needed to be swept up with a broom.
Deval had decided that Lola would be more comfortable on one of the padded pews and went to scoop her up when Vegard returned with backup. The last person I’d thought he’d choose. Gregar strode into the room, looking smug and cocky, a broadsword dangling at his side. If I had to guess, I’d say that he hadn’t planned on helping but to come in and see the carnage of the aftermath. There was plenty of carnage but not apparently what he’d wanted to see when he saw Michael laid out among the husks, shriveled, dried, and eyeless.
His disbelief and anger shone in his eyes as they darted around the room. Vegard turned and studied his brother. Vegard placed a hand on his Gregar’s shoulder, trying to calm him. Gregar brushed his brother’s hand aside letting out a battle cry as he pulled his sword, charging the source of his anger. Deval hadn’t seen Gregar, but the cry alerted him as he turned around, still holding Lola. As Gregar rushed Deval, his sword ignited with a bright glow of magic. I cried out and tried to push my power forward to block Gregar but I knew I’d be too late.
Vegard was hot on his heels and grabbed Gregar’s shoulder just as he had his sword in a high arc above his head, causing him to spin, sword still in motion. I saw it happening, and so did Deval as he dropped Lola to the floor bellowing out, “No!”
Gregar’s sword, through the worst kind of fate twist, did exactly what he’d intended but to the wrong person as it slid through his brother’s neck. Vegard’s head fell to the ground with a sickening thud. I held my hand over my mouth as bile rose in my throat. Both Gregar and Deval shouted out. I wanted to think Gregar’s was as heart wrenching as Deval’s, but he just looked at his brother’s lifeless face with rage. Deval stepped over Lola to confront his cousin when the additional reinforcements arrived. Faxon led the charge.
He took one look at his son’s decapitated corpse and held up a shaky hand pointing at Deval. “Murderer.” And charged.
Deval parried the older goblin all the while telling the other goblins present to stand back. I ran to Lola and grabbed her under the arms dragging her away from where Deval currently grappled with his uncle.
Once she was safe, I looked around the room. Deval managed to put his uncle in a hold.
“Peace, uncle, I did not harm Vegard.”
Faxon continued to struggle in the hold his face a bright red as he sputtered nonsensical threats.
I looked around for the actual murderer, sorrow and anger stirring my magic once again and looking for an outlet. Gregar had managed to disappear in the chaos.
The goblins stood back, held there by Griselda, who obeyed her prince. The men and women surrounding her looked uncertain, not knowing what had happened to end Vegard so tragically.
Pammy came and stood by me whispering in my ear, “Justice will be served, Sug. For now we stand aside and don’t get involved in this business.”
I wanted to yell that we were as deep in this business as anyone else present, but logic held my tongue. A standoff had officially formed, and I didn’t think the tension could get any higher. However, it could and it did when, of all people, Delmy Queen of the Goblins entered the room, regal and authoritative taking in the scene. Her gaze lingered on Vegard’s head before she looked up to the people gathered.
“Who will speak of these atrocities?”
Epilogue
The official invitation to the goblin lair located deep in the heart of the Superstition Mountains, warded and spelled to the hilt, did not bring me any joy. I’d have happily been chauffeured back and forth blindfolded the rest of my days if it meant that Vegard lived. I’d only begun to get to know him, but the end of his
life also meant the end of a promising friendship. I tried as I might to focus on my surroundings. Musing that the Lost Dutchman miner had likely found gold in The Superstitions. The poor man just hadn’t realized that it belonged to goblins. Some goblin guard had really screwed the pooch that day.
I felt the corner of my mouth twitch in the beginning of a smile. Guilt halted the movement as I raised my eyes to take in the mourners assembled here in a deep valley at the heart of the mountain. A fissure had been created in the stone where Vegard’s body had been propped. His head returned to him, his body in a shroud.
Deval came to stand next to me and whispered in my ear. “Are you thinking of The Lost Dutchman?”
I turned my head and stared up at him. “Of course not. This is a funeral.”
His somber gray eyes held just a hint of sparkle. “It is usually an entertaining realization for our guests, and despite this sad affair, if you’d gotten to know Vegard more, you would have known that he enjoyed the lighter elements of life, the whimsy, and the story of a guard off taking a piss while some hillbilly farmer nearly shit himself at the sight of one of our holdings.”
I nearly choked on the laughter I held back, though a small squeak did manage to escape. Mourners turned to us, chagrin in their gazes. “Are you trying to get me maimed on my first visit here?” I whispered to Deval.
“They wouldn’t touch you. They are all very aware that you are here on the invitation from my mother as well as me.”
“Be that as it may, I’d prefer if they didn’t fantasize about maiming me as an alternative to any real aggression.”
He inclined his head. “Our ceremony will begin soon. If you would like, you’re welcome up front with my mother and me.”
I shook my head, giving Deval a shaky smile. “I’d rather be inconspicuous.”
“Peg. that is one thing you could never be.” With that, he bent down and kissed me in front of his people, in front of his mother. The kiss made my toes curl and warmth spread through me, even as heat flamed my cheeks at the public claim of interest, and I knew that was what it was. He pulled away and gave me a wink before turning to walk up to begin the ceremony.
Lola, who’d been speaking with her family, sidled up next to me and grabbed my hand. I felt a slight shake in it. Cared for by the most talented healers among us, Lola still had a long road to recovery. Building up her magic reserve again would take time, and because her own magical vessel had grown accustomed to a large bit of power the weed contained, her physical body felt weakened by the lack of it. I let go of her hand and put my arm round her waist. She leaned into me.
I knew Lola hid a tremendous well of guilt over what had happened, but no one blamed her. A magical weed would have influenced her to believe the McAllisters. After everything that had transpired at the chapel, I couldn’t deny that I’d been slightly relieved to know that dropping the hoes before bros code had outward influence.
We stood there, arms around each other as the sun set over desert mountains shooting reds, oranges, and pinks across the night sky. A hum went through the crowd, a never-ending steady note began to rise and build as a swarm of earth magic formed, sending vibrations up through our feet and buzzing through the night air. The tone increased in flowing increments, and a crack sounded through the night as the fissure holding Vegard closed, his tomb becoming one of many in the secret valley. Delmy stood before the tomb and took her son’s hand.
With my witch sight, I could see that he was feeding his mother magic as she carved a symbol in the stone with her index finger that I guessed to now be diamond hard through her own magic and Deval’s. Once it was complete, she turned to her people and raised her hands. The night went silent and still.
The silence was short lived, as Faxon marched forward, his finger pointing accusingly at Deval. “I know he did it, Delmy. I will have my vengeance whether you do the right thing and try him, or I resort to the old ways.”
I couldn’t see Faxon’s face, but Delmy’s eyes flashed in the dusk.
“Brother, are you threatening me and spreading poison at your own son’s funeral? I do not see your other son, which speaks further to his guilt. I had not wished to do this today, but you have decided to make your play. With Vegard gone, all that is left of your family branch has rotted, and I will not let a branch kill the roots our line. I disavow you and yours from me and mine.”
Faxon went still, and he began to sputter. Delmy looked at him with pity, but before he could find any words, she turned and walked away. Deval also walked away, but he came toward me instead of following his mother. She didn’t seem bothered by his change of direction. In fact, she looked over at me and briefly let the stone of her face break into a small smile.
As Deval stood with me and Lola in the din, I wasn’t sure what freaked me out more: the obvious political and familial upheaval I’d just witnessed or having Deval’s mother approve of me.
There we stood in a valley, grief and turmoil filling the air, but I had my best friend on one side, alive and on the mend, my possible goblin soulmate on the other side, and a former goblin duke or whatever they called themselves staring daggers at us. My life continued to get ever more complicated, and I hoped we would all make it past this because as fast as I made new friends, my enemies seemed to grow by the day. Lola squeezed my hand, and I smiled at her. Nope, still more friends than enemies.
Acknowledgments
It takes an oddly functioning village of your own creation. I have many people to thank in said village. Thank you to my family, I could not have asked for a better one. We’re crazy but the good kind. My friends, you embrace the above mentioned crazy. Jessica from Red Adept Editing. You make my writing much tighter and stop me from making massive historical errors. Any other errors are my own. Deranged Doctor Design, you make pretty covers. Finally, to the readers who have embraced this series: thank you, thank you, thank you!
About the Author
Originally from Arizona, I’m currently residing in Chicago, having traded an oven for a freezer. I write Urban Fantasy because I like spooky things. I have a degree in English Literature from Arizona State University and the typical laundry list of jobs that goes with it. When I’m not working the day job or writing, I enjoy eating, reading, watching TV, pretending to be an elf (RPG), coding, and spoiling my cats.
Cursed Lines (A Peg Darrow Novel Book 2) Page 20
