“You see and hear what each does?”
“When I concentrate on one, yes. But otherwise…” Liam’s green eye had gone soft, like a moss-covered stone. His brown eye took on a far-away look. “Otherwise, I sense their feelings in general. And right now, they’re scared.”
A dark look passed between me and our wizard. “What are they sensing?” I asked.
“That Sirrahon is coming. That the stone dragon is moving their way, as sure as a warm summer is followed by the most bitter of winters.”
A coldness settled into my bones then, and we all went quiet for a moment. Galen rubbed the back of his neck, while Shaw scraped absently at the path with one talon. The moment passed as I spoke up.
“Shaw,” I said, “get going. We’ll have to do this without you.”
“Shouldst any of you fall, fear not: I shall avenge your horrible deaths!” he squawked, and he took to the air, circling wide before heading for the other side of the palace.
I ignored Shaw’s affectionate parting for now. Liam stepped forward. His antlers took on a soft, phosphorescent glow. In a couple of minutes, he looked up at us.
“I have it,” he pronounced. His noble young stag face looked startled as he added, “This portal leads to…just outside the Sacred Grove of the Fayleene!”
Galen’s face darkened. “I will do my best bring us through without arriving in the midst of your kind’s fabled grove. Dayna, are you prepared for me to work my spellcraft?”
I took my gun from my shoulder holster. Held it in both hands, at the ready. With a careful deliberateness, I switched off the safety and nodded in Galen’s direction.
“I’m good. Let’s go for broke.”
I felt it as much as heard it. A whisper of magic words came from the centaur wizard’s mouth. The rushing-air sound of Galen’s teleportation spell working. I stepped through the flash-bang, rainbow-colored door of Galen’s teleportation spell and onto the pine-needle littered floor of the Fayleene woods with a crunch. Two more crunches, smaller and larger, came from next to me as Fayleene and centaur arrived at my side. Scents of pine and peppermint in equal measure. Sunlight dappled its way through the branches and chest-high underbrush. About twenty yards in front of us, a shaft of brightness in the dim forest shone into a small clearing.
At the edge of this clearing, two shapes stood outlined in the bright sunshine. One was the shadowy, indistinct figure of a man. Whorls of dust and streaks of dirt made up the figure’s wavering shape. The other figure was tan and white, with the magnificent, muscled body of a twelve-point buck. The sound of their two voices had been deep in discussion, but came to an abrupt halt as my companions and I arrived.
Wyeth’s eyes went wide. “They’re here!” he exclaimed. Next to him, the dust-demon creature that had slain Captain Vazura stepped back with an angry hiss.
I hadn’t been able to put in much practice with my LAPD-issued handgun in the last three weeks. But I was better with it now than the first time I’d used it in action. I wasn’t proficient. But I was familiar, and that was all I needed for this instant.
I brought the gun up. Aimed at the demon thing. Squeezed the trigger.
Wyeth’s Fayleene reflexes were quicker. He leapt towards us in a lightning-fast bound.
My bullet shattered the upper third of his left antler with a crack!
Shards of bone-white antler sprayed into the forest. The force of the slug jerked the stag’s head sharply to one side. He skidded on two legs and then went down into the underbrush with a crash.
The demon’s legs dissolved into mist as it hovered in mid-air, gaining three or four feet of altitude. It came towards us. A nozzle of swirling fog formed at the end of its outstretched arm. I shouted a warning to my friends as a percussive thwip tore through the air.
“Seiceáil!” Galen shouted, with a downward wave of his hand.
A dart made of pine-needles smacked into an invisible wall ahead of us and fell to the forest floor. Another hiss from the shadow figure. Galen side-stepped to the left, behind the cover of a twisted knot of scraggly pines.
Wyeth exploded from the dense underbrush and charged at us. The tines of his antlers trailed greenery. The left set had a fresh, jagged edge that poked out like a bone-handled dagger. Liam leapt forward and hit his rival head-on.
The crash-BANG! of the two Fayleene echoed in the forest as if a glacier had calved a fresh iceberg into the sea. I fell back a step as the wave of sound hit me. Both Liam and Wyeth staggered from the blow. Then lunged back into a clinch like a pair of prize-fighters.
I sighted on the demon figure as it tried to draw a bead on Galen. I squeezed off three more shots. Amazingly, one hit home. The creature’s shape twisted and bulged as a hole formed in its torso, almost cleaving it in two as the bullet tore its way through. Then it pooled back together like spattered drops of water running together down a window pane.
“Galen!” I cried. “Hit that thing with your lightning!”
“Not unless I can get it in the open!” he shouted back. He grabbed a bundle of pine needles and tossed it aside with a curse. “I’ll set the forest ablaze if I miss!”
Nearby, the fight between the two Fayleene moved back and forth in a choking cloud of green and brown dust. Their hooves churned up dirt and leaf litter as they fought for an advantage. Liam was still smaller than Wyeth, but only by a third. The disadvantage caused by his stunted left antler was matched now by the damage I’d inflicted on his opponent. Because of that, their mutual shoving and bucking made their fight literally swirl as each bulldogged the other to the right. Their constant movement made it impossible to get in a clean shot.
“You’re insane!” Liam raged, eyes ablaze as he pushed Wyeth back a half-step. “Working against our people with this…thing! Why? Did you murder our father, half-brother?”
“You accuse me of murder?” Wyeth breathed. “You’re the one who’s insane!”
“If you are innocent, then yield!”
“Yield? To you, runt?” Wyeth retorted, as he shoved Liam in turn. His voice was a black pit of rage as he spat, “When our father died, all of our people went mad! Thinking that you were better than me!”
“I am better,” Liam taunted him. “And stronger!”
A grunt from Wyeth in answer. His neck muscles bunched and flexed like steel cords and shoved Liam a full step back. Wyeth reared, slashing razor-sharp forehooves at his rival. One hoof tore a bloody gash along Liam’s shoulder. The two circled again, snarling more like wildcats than white-tailed deer.
“When I come home as a hero, then they’ll flock to me and abandon you!” Wyeth taunted. “The way you’ve always been abandoned!”
The sound of approaching voices echoed through the trees. The beat of Fayleene hooves, a lot of them. The sound of the deer-people’s bleating alarm. A faint whoosh of air, and Destry materialized next to me in a puff of ethereal smoke.
“I am here, chére,” he said. “We are in battle, I see!”
The demon thing spotted the great black horse. It hissed and then spat out a single sentence to Wyeth in a voice that was insectile, inhuman.
“We go! Now!” With that, the dust-demon vanished into the shadows. Destry let out a ghostly, high-pitched whinny and charged after the creature. He too disappeared in a swirl of mist. Wyeth slashed at Liam once more, and then turned and bounded off into the underbrush. Liam stood his ground, panting, blood streaming from his shoulder.
My mind did another one of its strange clicks as it processed what I just heard.
Wyeth had been surprised when Liam had accused him of murder. And I’d seen his reaction back at the Sacred Grove – one of shock and dismay. Wyeth wasn’t exactly good at hiding his true feelings, I was sure of that. So he didn’t kill the Protector…
But he was ready to return as a hero.
There was only one way that could happen. That meant…
I shouted at the top of my lungs. “Liam, Galen! We have to capture Wyeth! He knows how to defeat Sirrahon!”
Chapter Nineteen
“Galen!” I cried. “Stop Wyeth, any way you can!”
Galen let out a very equine-sounding snort. He glanced around at the trees, the tinder-like carpet of pine needles, and let out a curse. But he murmured an incantation and then flung up one arm to shoulder height. A burning, sooty smell filled the air, coated my tongue. Flavor of peppermint-stripe candy tossed onto a sizzling electric hot-plate. Walls of blue energy winked into existence thirty yards ahead of us, spanning a curve in the shape of a half-moon.
“I can only hold this a few seconds,” the wizard gritted, as he held his hand high. “Any longer, and this entire clearing will burst into flame.”
Sure enough, smoke wafted up like steam off of hot coffee everywhere Galen’s projection touched. Shimmering heat rose from the trunks of trees, from leafy underbrush, from the rug of shed needles that coated everything.
A wham! resonated back through the clearing. One of Galen’s walls shimmered as something large hit it.
A pause. The sound of hoofbeats rang anew.
Wyeth erupted out of the greenery next to me like a fawn-colored bullet. Liam pivoted, leapt to one side to intercept him. Galen only had time to cry out as he dropped his hand and his barrier spell winked out.
Time stretched to a crawl as my eyes met Wyeth’s. His were chocolate brown. But where they should have held the cute gentleness of a deer, there was only savagery. I had both hands down, pointing my gun towards the forest floor. My arms moved, but dream-like, they’d only gotten halfway to their destination before the mad Fayleene was upon me.
My face went pale. My knees felt weak.
I took a cue from them and dropped down.
Wyeth’s right-side antler razored the air above me, rippling my hair and making my scalp tingle with a thousand tiny needles of fright. A shower of piney splinters sprayed across my face as the Fayleene’s weapon gouged a four-inch gash from the tree I’d been standing next to.
And like that, time snapped back into focus.
I rolled, giving my leather jacket a nice coating of fine dust. I ended up on my knees, coughing, eyes streaming, as Wyeth barreled past us. Liam took off in pursuit, Galen hot on his heels. Dammit, I was the only one not on four legs and hooves, but I wasn’t about to be left so far behind that I couldn’t do anything.
Ignoring my tearing eyes, I took off like a sprinter from the starting blocks. I didn’t kid myself that I was gaining on my two friends, let alone our quarry, but if Galen managed to get another wall of energy up ahead of Wyeth, I wanted another shot at him.
Rays of sunlight alternately lit my path or left it in cold patches of shade. I leapt over tangles of tree root. Crashed and stomped my way through underbrush, leaving a trail that even a blind forest ranger could track.
Ahead, the forest grew brighter. Maybe it was thinning out, which would be a good thing. Either we’d emerge outside the Fayleene woods altogether, or we’d end up in a spot with less fuel for a potential forest fire. And that meant Galen could get his magic mojo on and roast Wyeth like a suckling pig.
Shouts from up ahead. I put on one last burst of speed. Not more than a second or two later, I almost fell as I stumbled to a halt, feet away from where Galen and Liam had come to a stop. Heart pounding, breath wheezing, I looked around.
I caught a glimpse of Wyeth’s sleek form ahead. But only a glimpse. A burst of sparkling white magic opened ahead of him, tearing the world asunder. Liam’s rival leapt through the portal. It snapped shut behind the stag with the finality of a locked door.
“Oh, damn it!” I cursed. “Why didn’t you two keep up the chase?”
“The reason should be apparent,” Galen said, indicating the area ahead of us.
I let out a gasp. I’d been so focused on Wyeth that I barely realized that we’d emerged in the midst of the Sacred Grove. Sunlight cascaded through the green vault of arched trees. In front of us lay the shimmer of a preservation spell, as the Protector of the Forest continued to slumber amidst the serenity of the woods. He looked profoundly at ease.
Unfortunately, the looks on the faces of the angry Fayleene that stepped out of the woods all around us looked a hell of a lot less sanguine. A wall of sharp antlers materialized around us in a menacing ring. The naturally cute does and stags had their muzzles wrinkled into angry snarls, their brown or green eyes narrowed into angry slits.
The strange bleating noise of the magical deer turned into the chant of an angry mob.
“Rend them! Tear them! Make them bleed, kill them! Kill them!”
Yeah, it definitely looked like the Fayleene were batting a thousand when it came to treating their visitors courteously.
“Dayna,” Galen whispered, “I do not wish to hurt any of Liam’s people!”
“You may not have a choice, wizard,” Liam said flatly. “Their emotions are roused at the sight of you two in our most sacred place. I will do the best I can, but be ready.”
“Ready? To do what, perchance? Fight or flee?”
“Get a portal spell ready,” I said quietly to the wizard. “Liam, try to keep your people talking. But keep moving over to where they’ve got Quinval on ice over there. Galen, you and I need to stay close to Liam.”
The voice of one of the Lead Does, the female I recognized as Orlaith, boomed over the chant of the crowd. The surrounding Fayleene quieted to a rolling grumble as she spoke.
“Heresy, heresy!” Orlaith said, in a voice that was all but a bray. “How dare you taint the sanctity of the Sacred Grove?”
“Oh, really?” Liam replied, with the raise of an eyebrow. “Because it doesn’t seem to have affected my powers. My hooves haven’t fallen off. And no one’s been struck down by the grove’s fey magic.”
“You are the Heir to the Protector, but you speak blasphemy! Why do you betray us?”
“Betray you?” Liam demanded, as he slowly paced forward, as if to confront his accuser head-on. Galen and I shadowed every step. The wizard murmured a string of incantations under his breath, preparing to risk his magic on whatever scheme I had cooked up.
“Yes, betray us! To bring outsiders, inferior beings, where none but our blessed kind should tread!”
The crowd’s expression of approval on that one rolled through the audience like a wave of sound. To my surprise, Liam didn’t back down one inch. He turned to one side and spat on the grass. A gasp rippled through the assembled Fayleene.
“That is what I think of our ‘blessed’ status! These ‘inferior’ beings are the only ones helping to stop the doom that draws closer to us every hour.” He held his head high and looked down upon the crowd. “And what’s more, you know it. You know that without my friends among the other peoples, we wouldn’t stand a chance! So go ahead. If I have truly blasphemed, then strike me down and replace me with another stag!”
Orlaith did nothing but glare at the upstart princeling for a moment. Liam halted by Quinval’s side, inches away from the shimmering cloak of the protective spell. I snuck a glance at Galen. He didn’t take his eyes off the assembled fey deer, but a whisper came from between his lips.
“I need more time, Dayna! My powers are muted here, in the presence of all this opposing magic!”
“It is true,’ Orlaith began, her voice grim. “We of the Lead Does have no wish to replace the Heir. We shall not harm you, Liam.”
Liam nodded. “I’m glad that we are finally horn-to-horn on this.”
“So we’ll only kill the centaur and the human,” Orlaith finished. “Surely, you can find others of their kind in King Fitzwilliam’s realm.”
A chorus of bleating ‘Ayes!’ and ‘Kill the intruders!’
My temper slipped its leash and went forward, full-bore. Not smart, I know. But like I said, I got mad.
“For the record, I’ve had just about enough of you damned holier-than-thou Fayleene!” I declared. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m just about ready to let this Sirrahon slather you all in barbeque sauce and have at it!”
; Orlaith’s eyes narrowed. “Flay the flesh from their bones!”
The closest stags reared, razor-sharp hooves flashing in the sunlight. I whipped my gun arm out, aimed high, and squeezed off the trigger again and again. The sound of each shot was magnified into thunder in the cathedral-like space. The front ranks of the Fayleene quailed and shrank back from the alien sound.
The gun’s magazine clicked dry. I looked to Galen desperately.
“Ready, Dayna!” he exclaimed. “Where to?”
“My world! Directly to the city morgue!” I pointed to where Quinval lay next to us. “Bring the Protector’s body with us!”
The wizard swept his arms out as the Fayleene began to rise up again. He spoke a sharp phrase of magical words, and the world vanished in a haze of ozone and a flash of white.
Chapter Twenty
Walls of blank whiteness solidified and shifted to the cheery yellow-brick tiles of the LAPD’s morgue. For once, the haze of ozone wasn’t replaced with fresh air. Instead, the scents of rubbing alcohol, formalin, and decay pervaded my nose. A soft ‘thud’ as Quinval’s body landed on the floor next to me.
That was followed by a clatter of hooves as Galen staggered for a moment. His forehead banged into one of the room’s hanging lamps. The wizard let out a curse.
Liam gasped in horror, nose wrinkling, eyes wide.
“Wh-what is this place?” the Fayleene stammered. “The stench of death…it is everywhere!”
“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “This is where I do my job.”
“You work…here?” He shuddered as he asked, “What crime are you being punished for?”
“Such surroundings are indeed challenging to one’s senses,” Galen agreed, as he rubbed a tender spot just above his eyebrow. “The aroma does little to improve its ambiance.”
“This is where we examine dead bodies,” I explained. “So that we can figure out the cause of death. Sometimes, if we’re lucky, we can even identify the killer.”
The Deer Prince's Murder: Book Two of 'Fantasy & Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 2) Page 13
