“That’s almost good enough,” I said grudgingly, because that was already useful information and I probably needed to quit while I was still ahead. “Add something else good enough to sweeten the deal and my boss will let us both walk away happy.”
The winter fey stood still for a moment, and I did my best to do likewise. After another moment, he finally spoke.
“Fine. I can arrange to teach you better methods to disarm and capture our smaller, softer kin. We’ve already said that they’re useless to us and that you can have as many as you want. But if you can make this deal the new standard, then, when the time comes we will enable you to capture, instead of slay, Lady Titania. You can gain her power as well as use her for a bargaining tool against the Seelie Fey on every other world. We’ll even let you have a portion of Mother Glade’s power, though the rest of the Icon will still belong to us, as previously agreed. We will also provide you more of our magic and weapons to research, though I doubt you can improve on them like your own sages claim. The final caveat is that you never try to negotiate so foolishly with us ever again, or we will slay your next messenger outright.”
“As long as the next messenger isn’t me, that’s fine,” I waved a hand dismissively. “Tell you what, I’ll go tell them that you’re going to set up your next palace in the Whitewall Woods…”
“We are not,” Snow White’s more delicate brother interrupted, glaring at me. “Don’t tell your leaders the wrong location on purpose. We’re setting up the next palace near the Bear Tribe’s Three-arm River. Your people should know by now rivers are the best location for our palaces.” The frost fey’s eyes narrowed further. “And the Whitewall Woods is a ridiculous location. Where are your escorts?”
“Not needed,” I said with a shrug. “This is our last day in this area, anyway. We’ve decided to move our base.”
“Why?” Frosty cocked his head even further, growing even more suspicious. I realized the only thing holding my cover was the fact that the real Wes Malcolm was supposed to be completely out of the picture. “There’s plenty of potential prey for both our own purposes and your Hordebeasts.”
“Yeah, but we decided your assistance is no longer viable,” I announced. “The Chaos Wound is producing better results anyway. We’re ending our partnership with you.”
“Ending the partnership!” the ice man’s voice boomed, and his civilized exterior cracked apart completely. His mouth twisted into a snarl, and one of his hands gripped his sword while the other summoned a ball of blue, cold fire. “DO NOT TOY WITH ME, HUMAN!”
His voice was so loud it managed to ring my ears a little. The air around us grew cold, and the previously bored yeti creature snarled and began waving its club. The goblin-thing hissed but began creeping backwards, making itself as small a target as possible.
Get ready, I sent to the team some distance behind. Janet Frost’s performance was impressive, but the truth was that anyone on the same level as Felicia wouldn’t have chosen to meet with anyone too dangerous. If this guy really was strong enough to overwhelm me and my team, his kind wouldn’t have needed to partner with Rhodes in the first place.
“Still not as impressive as what the Chaos Wound can do,” I said with another shrug. “And unlike you, they’re actually exceeding expectations—”
“Who are you?” the ice fey asked, as the blue fire around his hand intensified.
“The local Wes Malcolm, obviously,” I said with a snort.
“No,” Frosty rebutted. “Who are you, really?” He took a step forward, and the cold air began to whip around violently. “You have not once addressed me by any name or title. Even the most arrogant Earthborn stationed here would not do that. And your Challenger imposters die far too frequently to be this coherent in conversations. Finally, you would never discuss such sensitive information as the progress of another Trial with another one of your allies of convenience. Tell me who you are, or I will kill you right now.”
“No you won’t,” I said calmly, shifting into a combat stance. “Negotiations are done.” I summoned my Horde cleaver. “Get out of here, and tell your people that the Earthborn are done working with such incompetent creatures as yourselves. Otherwise I’m going to kill you.”
The hoarfolk’s eyes widened realization as his intellect finally won control over his arrogance.
“Sabotage,” he hissed. “You’re not with the Malus Order on Earth. You’re a common enemy trying to disrupt our partnership with them. This location is compromised.”
Attack, I sent to Merada, and I rushed forward, gripping my cleaver with both hands.
But French Vanilla Ice suddenly dispelled his blue fireball and snapped his fingers. A brief snowstorm erupted in front of his entire group, and by the time I rushed through it, he and his people had vanished into thin air.
Damn, Merada sent to me. I didn’t know they could vanish like that.
It makes sense, I said as I sighed, digging my weapon into the ground. He would have needed a way to transport his captives somehow. Do we have to worry about him teleporting back with help?
No, Breena sent. They can only return to their closest palace in that fashion. He’ll have to travel on foot or mount if he wants to get back here. I’m sorry, this power of theirs is supposed to be rare. Only their strongest nobles are supposed to be able to use it.
Well, he clearly wasn’t one of those or he would have captured and interrogated me instead of running from trouble, I answered. It ended well enough, anyway. He gave me timetables and names for locations.
That he did, Merada said. Good job, Challenger.
That was super sneaky, Wes! Breena affirmed. You would have fooled a normal sprite ten times over with that act!
Great, I thought, concerned, and seriously worried about how gullible Breena’s fellow sprites were. Then I reflected angrily over the fact that as gullible as they were, the captured ones still didn’t have an easier time of trusting me than the rest of the Woadfolk did. At any rate, we need to get this information out to whoever needs it. Where is the Bear Tribe and the Three-Arm River that he mentioned?
Some distance away, Merada answered, but not impossibly far. Ye arrived near the edge of Woadfolk territory, but most of our problems be on the edge as well. I’ve already had the fairies send word to their courts. We’ll have to wait till the morning for help to arrive, but it should save us days or weeks of travel.
Alright, I sent back. We should probably just take everyone to the local village for now. Can they meet us there?
Aye, that’s no problem.
Our trek back to the village went without incident. Our return was greeted with loud cheers. A sizable number of the elves and fairies we found had been from this village, and they rejoiced to hear that the Pit had been destroyed. The heal jellies confused them, but Ball-ee and I had saved too many lives back at the village for them to view either of us as a threat, so they just let it examine the sick and play with the children when they asked.
I had apparently regained the locals’ trust, and at a speed that left me a little guilty over how resentful I had felt earlier. The elves threw a simple but heartfelt party in my honor, and they made numerous cheers for the Woad Princess, the apparent revival of the Gaelguard, and above all, the return of the Challenger of Avalon. I danced with over a dozen women, girls, and fairies until Breena butted in and insisted I dance with her for the rest of the night. When I was finally able to excuse myself and sit down, Merada brought me a drink and a plate of bread, cheese, and roast venison.
“Thank you,” I said gratefully. I’m starving, Teeth growled in agreement. I had gotten hungrier since the dragon bonds, and I hadn’t eaten for most of the day to begin with.
“Ye’re welcome, milord Challenger,” Merada replied with a smile and a wink. “I figure this’ll be worth one of the arrows I fired at ye.”
“Let me see how it tastes before I decide.” I grinned good-naturedly as I took a bite of bread. “Oh, wow,” I said with a full mouth, unable to hel
p myself. “Thith ith deliciouth.”
“Glad ye like it.” Merada grinned wider. “Elven food takes forever to cook, but when it’s finished it’s the perfect end to a long day.”
She brushed a brown lock out of her hair, and I noticed a slightly pointed ear. I blinked in surprise, but managed to finish chewing instead of immediately saying something stupid.
“It’s fine.” She was still smiling. “I’m half-elven, half of the old strain of Woadfolk. Ye can comment on it. Me main body wanted to make a Satellite with the gifts of both races, but the truth is that the three folks of our world intermingle all the time. Doesn’t bother anyone. What does bother people is me accent,” she said with a grimace.
“You mean you can’t control that?” I asked after I swallowed. Teeth yelled at me to keep eating and to flirt with Merada at the same time.
“Nay—no,” she said with effort, frowning again. “There. That’s as much as I can do. But it be built into me when Stell formed me. Let me grow up with a mixed loving family that always wanted a daughter, then gave me the best body she could, and an accent that people would take forever understanding.”
“Why did she do that?” I asked. “I mean, I hear a hint of some kind of Gaelic tone when people talk to me, but it’s never as pronounced—and mixed—as when you speak. That seems like a silly mistake to make.”
“Aye. ‘Twas,” she answered me. “Have one of yer world’s stories to blame. Stell saw one that took place nearly an Earth century ago, or a couple of centuries here on the Woadlands. It was one of those glowing picture stories your people watch on walls and boxes. Had a man in it with a big sword and a skirt that ran around screaming about his freedom. The others said she loved the story so much she spent a month trying to talk like the people in it. Even Breena threatened to strangle her if she didn’t stop. She must’ve put that part into me when she crafted me genes.”
“Wait,” I said. “You’re the specific part of Stell that loves one of our most famous movies?”
And that was the only comment I was going to make about that subject. Because Merada didn’t need to hear that Stell had still gotten the accent wrong, somehow.
“Aye, probably,” the beautiful huntress muttered. “Doubt I’d have the same opinion if I saw it, though.”
“I like it,” I said bluntly, because it was the truth.
She turned to look at me, raising a brown eyebrow.
“Really, now? Ye’re not just saying that try and get into me leathers or something?”
It’s a trap, I said as I felt Teeth stir at that question.
“If I couldn’t stand the sound of your voice, I wouldn’t even make it to leather-getting stage. I’d try not to talk to you at all. But your voice sounds musical and pleasant, so I wind up happy that I get to hear it after a long day. So don’t get up and go away, yet,” I said with a grin of my own. “In fact, give me five more minutes of conversation and I’ll forgive another one of your attacks.”
Once spoken, those lines sounded way cheesier than they did in my head. But to my surprise, Merada threw her head back and laughed.
“Oh, Icons, I’ve missed ye,” she said after she finished. “Forgot how much fun a proper Earthborn could be.”
“Glad to know I’m one of the proper ones,” I offered.
“Oh, aye. And to think I actually get ye for two greater Challenges,” she teased. “I know ye’ll have work to do elsewhere afterwards, but I’ll still take it.”
“Huh?” I asked, confused. “I thought your worlds always got a Challenger when a Tumult showed up?”
“I be the youngest body of me other selves,” Merada reminded me. “And ‘till now there hasn’t been a Tumult in the Woadlands for over three hundred years. Which means the last Tumult was before me time. So the only time I got to have a Challenger was when Stell sent them to the Woadlands to train on a few safer Challenges. And then they were off again. I usually got no more than an hour with them. Bit miffed that I’ve had to put up with over fifty years of the rotten ones.”
“Yeah, they’re a pain,” I muttered darkly, looking at one of the festival fires. The villagers were still dancing around, and as I looked I saw the three Testifiers get pulled into a circle. Karim took a pipe one of the men offered him, while Eadric had to deal with two little girls wanting to pull on his beard. I thought of all the damage Rhodes’ people had tried to do this place, on top of what they had already done to me back home. “You should try growing up with them.”
“Too late and no thanks,” the woad-painted woman said with a snort. “I’ll settle for ye helping me clean up their mess.”
“Deal,” I said, still watching the fires. Another crowd was gathering around Weylin. It looked like they were asking the elven Testifier to tell them a story.
“Good idea, bringing those three, by the way.” Merada nodded in the direction I was looking. “Testifiers carry weight in every world. Them traveling with ye will lend credibility with the leaders in the meeting tomorrow. Especially that young elven one.”
“Really?” I asked, interested. “They all led me to believe they were just junior-ranked.”
“They may very well be,” the Satellite granted. “But their words will still carry some wait. Even the newest graduate of their colleges are learned historians and accomplished mages of at least one school of magic. And yer pretty-faced bard will carry even more respect, just because of his lineage. Do ye not know?” I shook my head, and Merada continued. “He be a second-generation Testifier. His mother and father be different races of elves, from different worlds. They were said to have made discoveries on every planet they visited, and they visited all of the known worlds.”
“I didn’t know any of that,” I said, blinking. “I mean, I’ve been impressed with them, asshole pranks notwithstanding, but they never claimed any fame around me.”
“Well, fifty years ago,” Merada sighed, “yer status as a Challenger would have dwarfed anyone but the Icons, a few rulers, and the Steward of Avalon. Now, after all the trickery and atrocities they’ve done in yer name…” She winced. “Ye’ll need every edge you can get.” Then, as she looked out at the rescued elves, the Testifiers, and the Gaelguard, her face brightened. “Fortunately, ye brought plenty of it.”
“More than I’ve already shown,” I said firmly, deciding now was a good time to share more secrets with a part of Stell.
“Oh?’ She turned to raise her eyebrows at me. “Do share.”
“For basic starters,” I began, “emergency food and supplies. I didn’t think to bring more than a hundred blankets, but I brought plenty of spare high-quality weapons and almost a thousand pounds of food.”
“How much?” Her eyes widened.
“Avalon has a small population and plenty of natural resources,” I explained. “We could do nothing but hunt and gather and we’d still have enough food to store for several winters. But we’ve also been able to use the planet’s magic to create modified crops. But the real gift is probably the Woadfathers.”
“Did ye just say Woadfather?” Merada began blinking furiously. “Did ye just say the name of the ancestor tree that gave me world its name?”
“Nope.” I grinned cheekily. “I said the plural version. Look carefully,” I said, quickly opening my hand before the woman attacked me again. I cupped my hand to where only she could see, holding two Woadfather seeds. “There was a whole grove of them hidden in a sealed part of Avalon.” I quickly put the seeds away so that no one else saw them and started a drunken riot over them. “I brought a few other loose pieces of the plants as well, such as leaves, bark, and root.”
“Those trees are almost extinct,” Merada breathed. “The only ones remaining are near the end of their lifespan, unable to produce seeds. And ye have how many of them?”
“Many,” I answered, because I honestly hadn’t bothered to count every tree in that grove. “Several times more than the number of Gaelguard I brought. As I said, there was a whole grove of them. And I brought more
than these two seeds.”
“And ye even mentioned that ye possess their sap,” Merada breathed.
“Yeah,” I said. “I was hoping we’d have time to tattoo me with it, but I’m not sure we will.”
“I’d need close to a full day,” Merada admitted. “Maybe even longer. But the seeds… ye’re just going to give them to us?”
“To you? Maybe,” I answered. “I’d give you at least a couple if you asked me. But from what I gather, you act as a counselor and hero, not as one of this world’s leaders.”
“Aye.” Merada nodded glumly. “The Icons and a few chiefs be the ones with the main power. Stell didn’t want to overstep.”
“Do you trust the current people and Icons in charge?” She gave a slow nod. “Do you trust them completely?” I persisted.
She stopped nodding.
“Do you agree with all of their choices,” I asked next. She shook her head.
“And have your concerns proven to be valid?” I asked finally.
“Aye,” she growled at me. “They do the right thing, as they see it. But they always consider what be right for themselves. They be afraid to risk a loss. Which be why I hadn’t seen nearly as much combat as I should’ve.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
“When the Dark Icons rose up fifty years ago, I helped turn the tide of the battle. I was outmatched by any one of them, but I was just strong enough to make a difference. But that fact scared all of the Icons. They kept me close, in case the Dark ones dared another attack en masse. But also, I believe, to keep me from becoming stronger than they were prepared for me to be.” It was her turn to look darkly at the fire. “I’ve been held back from much of the larger battles, supposedly because they couldn’t risk me. And we’ve lost most of those battles.”
“Do they even have a right to order you around?” I asked, incredulous. Merada gave a small nod.
“In Stell’s absence, and unless she takes direct control of me.”
Woad Children (Challenger's Call Book 3) Page 40
