The Lily Harper 8 Book Boxed Set

by HP Mallory

  Addie snorted. “With as hot as the Flamel’s place was burning all they’re gonna find is blackened stone and one hell of a bonfire.”

  The angel kept squinting at the camp with his eagle eyes. He suddenly began slapping me shoulder. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  I grabbed his hand to make him stop. “Whit be the matter, stookie angel?”

  He pointed with his other hand at someone who had just stepped out of a tent near the circle. “Tell me that’s not who I think it is, Conan.”

  But it was. Even at a distance, there was nae mistaking the duster coat nor the rifle in his hand. The pack of wolves ‘round him was the final confirmation. “Guess Jedidiah couldnae stay a pig fore’er.”

  I saw a little hope blossoming on Harry’s face. “So that could mean Dahlia didn’t stay a pig either, right?”

  Addie smiled at him. “Dahlia may have gotten changed into something else, but she was never a pig.” She pointed down at the slave hunter. “That asshole, on the other hand…”

  Besom looked ‘round at everyone with annoyance. “Look, character observations aside, this is going to make getting out here an even bigger problem.”

  Harry looked down at Jedidiah, who was walking towards the circle. “How d’you think we should handle it, boss lady?”

  I saw a slight flush in Lily’s cheeks at his respectful tone. “Let’s just say I’m open to suggestions.” Then she smiled at him. “And don’t call me boss lady.”

  I found meself chuckling and me Besom turned tae look at me, giving me a wee smile jist atween the two of us. She mouthed the words “I love you” and I reached out to her, grabbing her hand as I pulled her into me.

  “When we reach the Dark Wood, ye are mine fer the takin’,” I whispered.

  She glanced up at me and her left eyebrow arched. “Not unless I take you first,” she whispered back.

  “Um, the rest of us ain’t gettin’ no action soze save all that shit fer the bedroom!” the angel grunted.

  Besom laughed with embarrassment and then nodded as Jeanne cleared her throat and gave the scene below a calculating look.

  “I have a suggestion, but I doubt you shall deem it pleasant.” She waved her index finger across the jagged top of the rubble around us.

  I gave a disapproving grunt. “Nae, Jeanne. Even assumin’ the rocks hold steady enough tae walk across ‘em, every step we make would cause a sound an’ stir that the dimmest guard would hear.”

  Jeanne was unfazed by me faulting her plan. “Only if the distraction I have in mind proves insufficient.” She turned to Nicolas. “Can any of your remaining compounds create a great deal of noise and light?”

  Perenelle answered for both of them. “As it happens, Mademoiselle Jeanne, I have a compound of which a few drops can produce quite an exciting explosion.”

  Jeanne’s eyes lit up. “Would it require any special preparations for such an event to come to pass?”

  Nicolas’s wife pulled out the two vials from her apron. “Merely mix the two substances together and within a few moments, there will be enough noise and light to suit your purposes.”

  Jeanne gestured for the vials and Perenelle handed them to her. I took the latter by the shoulder. “Whit dae ye think yer doin’, Jeanne?”

  She gently but firmly pushed me hand away. “Providing the needed diversion… I shall rejoin you once I am finished.”

  Perenelle took her other shoulder. “I would advise you to mix the compounds then quickly remove yourself from them. The effect is a rather powerful blast.”

  I squeezed Jeanne’s shoulder to keep her attention. “We cannae tarry long. Once they figure out the trick, they’ll make sure that anyone who stays behind pays fer it.”

  The smile she gave me revealed a sad wisdom. “We will see each other soon. That, I promise.”

  With a quick au revoir, she slid down the slope and ran ‘round the corner. Once she vanished behind the rubble, I stared at Harry. “Any idear where she’s goin’, lad?”

  Harry stuck his tongue out and moved it from side-to-side. “There was this little spot where we were able to see the machine guns without getting noticed ourselves. Got no idea how Jeanne plans to get from there back to us afterwards, though.”

  Besom touched my arm. “You’ve got to admit, Tallis, the plan is workable.”

  Addie stretched her arms above her head. “Guess we’d better get ready for the go-ahead.”

  I still thought this plan was bloody balmy but I didnae have a better one on offer. As the lass said, there was naethin’ to do but prepare for Jeanne’s distraction.

  “Who passes mountains, breaks through fenced walls and firm embattled spears, and with his filth taints all the world!”

  -Dante’s Inferno

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TALLIS

  It didnae take long.

  An impressive boom followed the bright flash of light outside the gates. Then there was another… and another… and a fourth. Why Jeanne would set off so many at once I wasnae certain. Still, it did the trick of making nearly every demon and human trooper grab their weapons and rush out of the camp. Only the machine guns stayed manned by the Mephits.

  The angel took the lead and we began running across the unsteady rubble. We slipped more than a few times, requiring us to grab the straggler in question and hoist them back up. Despite our starts and stops, we managed to cover enough ground to approach the circle and trees from the left.

  Ignoring the blasts, Crowley never once looked up from his work upon the circle. Many of the signs and symbols that comprised it reminded me of what I had seen back at the Flamels’ now-destroyed house.

  In the center of it all, the Urn glowed with an eerie yellow light. The container was directly lined up to the tree that served as the hidden gate to the Dark Wood. I was about to go down when Perenelle put her hand in front of me and shook her head. To me raised eyebrow, she pointed down at the scratches upon which Crowley was working.

  Nicolas was already giving the overall design a hard stare, his frown deepening by the second. Finally, he looked away from the circle and his eyes scanned all of us in turn. Then he slowly shook his head. Unless I misunderstood him, all the scratching Crowley had made was still short of the goal.

  The angel hissed and began pointing to the front of the camp. Jedidiah was heading our way with his loyal pack of hell-wolves running at his heels. The scowl on Jedidiah’s face told me he wasnae any happier than the rest of us.

  The slave hunter slammed his boot down in front of Crowley’s drawing hand. The pack took a cue from their master and snarled at the lowly magician from all sides.

  “What is this?” Jedidiah demanded.

  The little would-be wizard opened and closed his mouth several times, as though he was still figuring out how it worked. “Th-Th-The design… it just needs a few m-m-more touches.”

  In one motion, Jedidiah knelt down, pulled out his hunting knife, and stuck the point right between Crowley’s eyes. “That’s what you said an hour ago… The only result I have seen thus far is that the top of the Urn now glows.”

  The chattering of the little man’s teeth became worse. “B-B-But that means it’s working!”

  The knife tip traveled from between Crowley’s eyes to beneath his chin. “That means you have yet to do your job properly. If for any reason, this final hour does not yield the desired outcome, your usefulness will come to an end, as will you. Am I clearly understood?” Jedidiah insisted.

  To emphasize his last point, he pushed upon the knife tip, making Crowley’s head go back. As much as the knife would allow, Crowley nodded frantically until the blade left his throat. He eagerly returned to his work, his strokes even less careful and coherent than before.

  Nicolas placed his hand over his eyes as if he couldnae bear to see how badly Crowley was making a mockery of the magical runes.

  I stuck me tongue out to catch the direction of the breeze. Currently, we werenae downwind of the Fenrir, which was why they hadnae detect
ed us. But that would change the instant the breeze switched direction. I began to wonder if abandoning the Urn, as appalling as it seemed, werenae the better option.

  While Cauchon’s lieutenant put his knife away, a buzzing came from his pocket. He quickly reached inside and pulled out a mobile phone. I looked upon the angel who was already ahead of me, pulling up the screen of his mobile. There were three reception bars at the top; and before, he couldnae get even one. The only explanation was the tent had its own signal booster that allowed mobiles to work down here.

  Jedidiah put the mobile on speaker. Alaire’s voice came through loud and clear.

  “Report, Jedidiah.”

  The slave hunter cleared his throat. “There’ve been a series of explosions we cannot explain. These explosions occurred at the front of the camp.”

  Alaire sounded somewhere between worried and angry. “I trust they’re currently being investigated?”

  Jedidiah relaxed. “As we speak… we hope to know more shortly.”

  Alaire grunted before moving to his next question. “And what of the camp’s sole purpose for existing?”

  The wolf pack’s master glowered at the old robed fraud at his feet. “There has only been incremental progress on the summoning circle for the Spites.”

  Alaire’s voice grew hard and cold. “Define ‘incremental’.”

  Jedidiah’s face imitated my betrayer’s voice. “If I may be blunt, I have no reason to believe the circle will be finished by the time the Spites pass through.” He looked intently at the screen of his mobile. “And we have no more than ten minutes left to prepare.”

  Alaire hummed through the receiver. “I respect your bluntness, Jedidiah.” He paused. “However, this report reminds me why I wanted you to lead the latest raid on the Flamels yourself.”

  Besom grew tense. Oblivious to us, Jedidiah frowned into the phone. “You may recall I was in the process of retrieving Beatrice from Cardinal Cauchon at the time, sir.”

  “Beatrice…” Besom whispered as she frowned at me. I shrugged for I didnae understand Jedidiah’s reference.

  Alaire’s voice was unsympathetic. “Reciting your past failures won’t make me inclined to forgive your present ones. Now that we’ve been reduced to relying on the likes of Crowley due to your—”

  Pulling the mobile right beside his mouth, Jedidiah began yelling into it. “Had you given me more time, I would have been on that raid and you would have had your precious alchemists! But no, you wanted it immediately, which was why I was forced to rely on these ragtag, ill-experienced troops! Now they’re dead and you have nothing!”

  Alaire’s laugh chilled me. “Au contraire, mon bravo. I have the one thing you care about more than anything else in this world. It would be such a shame to ruin it.” Jedidiah’s knuckles grew white as he gripped the mobile and his face turned a deep purple. After a few seconds, Alaire spoke again. “Do we have an understanding?”

  The slave hunter’s face showed pure hatred as he stared at the mobile. “We do.”

  “Excellent… then I shall leave you and Mr. Crowley to your work.”

  Jedidiah placed the mobile back into his pocket and started yelling incoherently at Crowley. Alaire had Jedidiah over some type of barrel. While I was fairly certain the rune circle was Cauchon’s idea, Alaire never failed to take advantage so he could be the one to profit in the end.

  A familiar buzzing filled the air, heralding the promise of pain. The Spites. The dark dot coming through the clouds pushed me to make a quick decision. I drew me blade, stood up and leapt off the top of the pile. I heard a few startled gasps from behind me but naebody could catch me.

  The nearest Fenrir received the pointy end of me blade a second before me feet hit the ground. I landed right next to Jedidiah. I kicked him in the back and he fell into the still-kneeling Crowley. Yanking out me blade again, I swung it into the throat of the next wolf lunging at me. It gurgled as it flew past me while one of its pack mates latched onto me left arm. Before it could get a fair bite, a good-sized rock struck it in the head, making it whine and release me.

  I looked ‘round just in time to see Jedidiah turning over to aim his rifle. It was pointed right at me head and way too far for me blade to reach him. A shower of rocks hit him in the head and arms, sending his shot wild. A quick glance up confirmed me comrades were doing their part to assist me.

  Crowley moaned when he saw the scuffling was marring his drawings. I had nae time for his theatrics. “Ach, out o’ me way, ye fraud!”

  After I yelled, me foot sent Crowley flying out of the circle. More of his precious scribbles became smeared as he skittered across the ground. He fell and knocked his head against the rubble. He was dazed if not unconscious, and completely out of the fight.

  That gave Jedidiah enough pause to take aim again. This time, I was closer than before. Me blade smacked his rifle aside just as me foot slammed under his chin. He sailed into the nearest tree, and his rifle dropped at me feet.

  I heard the rubble shifting behind me, followed by frantic footsteps, more rocks striking the ground and the snarls of the Fenrir. The growls near drowned out the rapidly approaching Spites.

  Perenelle’s voice rose above the din. “Keep him away from the circle, Monsieur Black! We shall finish the design as it should be!”

  Meanwhile, Jedidiah shook off me attack and rose to his feet. Once I came close, he pulled out his knife and assumed a fighting stance. Good size though the blade was, I sneered at it with contempt. “Ye think that wee tooth has enough span tae match the sword in me hands?”

  Jedidiah glowered at me as he raised the knife to his head. “I think this is my fight.”

  I swung at his head, and he ducked. He attempted making a straight run at me guts, which I sidestepped at the last second. I aimed at his head with the hilt of me sword only for him to slip to the right and slice at me throat. I took a step back to avoid his blade, and punched him in the nose to knock him back. I felt the bridge of his nose snap beneath me fist. Unlike the rifle, he held onto the knife the whole way down. Grabbing the hilt of me sword, I used both hands to strike me blade over him. He rolled away to the left before me blade could impale his flesh.

  Blood streamed down his broken nose as he tried to pick himself up. A kick to his chest knocked him flat on his back again but not before he plunged his blade into me right calf. Me trousers sheared as the pain rippled through me and I bit down hard upon me lower lip. I felt blood running down me leg like a waterfall. I focused past the pain and called on me Druid magic to staunch the bleeding. While I did sae, I tried for another swing at him. But I was too off-balance from me wound. He evaded it with ease.

  A sneer began forming on his lips as we circled one another. He shifted the grip upon his knife and held it with his thumb on the hilt. Another unwelcome surprise came in the form of a pair of gunshots that flew between us. Some of the returning troops spotted us and were providing cover for Jedidiah. Worse yet, everyone but the Flamels were struggling with the three surviving Fenrir.

  Besom’s blade was finishing what I started but she was slowing down and the wolves were relentless. Only the Urn seemed to reflect any serenity in the midst of the chaos, its steady glow growing brighter with each scratch the Flamels repaired.

  Without warning, Gwydion stepped out of the ether and into the battle. Clearly he’d just appeared through the shortcut to the Dark Wood, smiling as he shook his head.

  “No, no, no, no! This won’t do at all. This was supposed to be an epic fight for the ages! Not a simple brawl.”

  The wall we had walked across suddenly exploded, splintering the rubble between us and the rest of Jedidiah’s troops. The Welshman sighed and contentedly leaned back against one of the trees.

  “Much better.”

  I felt a momentary sense of relief meself before I remembered the one we left behind. “Jeanne!”

  Jedidiah took advantage of me temporary distraction to strike. I had just enough time to swat his cheek with the flat o
f me blade, throwing his attack askew. As he stumbled forward, I rammed me knee right into his gut before slamming me forehead into his broken nose.

  Stepping in just the right spot to avoid being hit by either of our attacks, Gwydion shook his head and tut-tutted me. “Now was that very sporting of you, Bladesmith?”

  I snarled at him even as me bad leg made me miss me follow-up stroke.

  Jedidiah took the opportunity of me missed swing to throw his knife right at me chest. I moved but was tae close to dodge it fully. It landed under me armpit, scoring a fresh slice of agony upon me body.

  Gwydion reached into thin air and pulled out a perfectly crafted sword that was half the size of me own blade. He casually tossed it to the slave hunter, who caught it but didnae appear impressed. He lunged for his rifle but the Welshman kicked it behind him, well out of his reach. That barely gave him enough time to block me sword stroke aimed at his head.

  I glanced ‘round and saw me Lily slaying the last of the Fenrir. The angel was running towards the demolished wall, yelling “Jeannie!” at the top of his lungs. The Flamels continued their drawings while the Soul Retrievers collapsed on the ground outside them, exhausted from the struggle. The Spites were now close enough for me to make out their individual specks.

  Mind, I was still aiming to cleave Jedidiah’s head while I took all of this in. Only a careless warrior is unaware of the entire battlefield around him.

  “Near to the stony causeway’s utmost edge…”

  -Dante’s Inferno

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TALLIS

  Gwydion walked beside and between Jedidiah and myself as our blades clashed again and again. He took one look at the slave hunter’s form and shook his head.

  “And here I thought giving you a blade of your own would make this fight more fair. It’s quite disappointing, Jedidiah, though not as disappointing as you were to your own children.”

  I watched Jedidiah flinch at Gwydion’s words even if he tried covering it up. The Welshman’s smirk told me he’d also caught Jedidiah’s reaction and he looked at me.