The carpet changed angles, and my ears didn’t like it. I could feel the nausea roll over me from toes to mouth, and I made it to the edge just in time.
“Are you ok?” Bella asked in alarm.
“He will be fine...” David was smiling, I could hear it in his voice. “He does this every time.”
“Three times.” I lay on my stomach, head over the edge. “It’s only been three times.”
Because of my position, I could feel it when we started to lose altitude. I sat up. Being on the ground again would be really good.
“You know,” I regarded David with narrowed eyes. “There was no need for us to fly on the carpet yet.”
He smirked. We settled to the ground as softly as a falling feather, and I decided not to pursue it. We had landed on the banks of a river, in the middle of what looked like an abandoned garden. I looked around. Roses climbed madly over statuary and what might have been a large house. The scent of them filled the air.
“How pretty.” Bella stood up and stretched.
I stumbled off the carpet and gave it a dirty look. David, cool as always, offered Bella his arm. “Let me give you a tour.”
She walked away, with a glance backward at me. I gestured for her to go. We had time, and I was not interested in a bunch of smelly weeds while my stomach was still doing loop-de-loops. I sat on the grass, then flopped onto my back. The sun was warm on my face, and the ground was reassuringly still.
Perhaps not surprising, then, that I fell asleep.
The Beast’s Manor
Bella put a finger to her lips as they walked back to the lawn where David had landed the carpet. “He’s fallen asleep.”
“I see,” David steered her back into the garden. “There was a bench.. ah, there.”
He gestured, and it was as smooth and polished as it no doubt had been when the family still dwelled here. He’d been exerting himself, Bella could tell, to be charming and entertaining. She sat, and he lounged on the grass at her feet, his red curls very near her knee.
“Are you a phoenix?” She asked, curious.
“Hmm, I suppose so. Not quite the legend most know, of there being only one, though. There are very few of us remaining now.” He looked sad.
“Underhill seems to be...” Bella searched for the right word.
“Run down?” He looked around them. “My friends once lived here. He was monstrous, in appearance. She,” David tilted his head back and looked at her. “You remind me of her.”
Bella smiled down at him. “Lom is hardly a monster.”
David looked oddly serious. “Perhaps not.”
He shook himself slightly and bounced up. “But while we have time, shall we go look at the ponds and see if the goldfish have survived the herons? I am very fond of goldfish.”
Bella accepted the change of tack, and followed him back into the masses of roses. There were paths wide enough to avoid the thorns, and it was, she mused, a very fairy tale setting. They had traveled far, from Japan and the porcelain court there, to the land of ancient tales and curious creatures who could have stepped from the pages of the books her mother had read to her.
Bella no longer remembered her mother clearly, Daisy’s face blurred into Lavendar’s in most memories, but she knew that any memories of a young voice reading her bedtime stories must be her mother’s. She’d been too old, and Lavendar wasn’t one to cosset her.
They came to a place where the roses tangled all the way across the path. David stopped and stared at it for a moment.
“Perhaps we should go back?” Bella suggested, turning away.
“No, no...” He spoke absently, not really paying attention to her, and she looked to see what he was doing.
David’s hands, like a conductor with an orchestra, but with magic streaming off his fingertips, were dancing. The vines were twitching and writhing, then, as she watched silently, they streamed upwards, weaving in and out of one another, tucking back down here, a bit more there... the loose leaves and debris on the ground whisked to one side with a flat-handed gesture. He dropped his arms and gave her that flourishing bow again.
“Lady, if you would? The pond is just through here...”
Bella walked through the gothic arch of roses he had just created, smiling. A small shower of petals fell from the petite pink flowers and she was again veiled in blossoms.
“You did that on purpose,” She said, looking at his face.
He was pleased with himself. “It becomes you, this rustic fairy look. You are very lovely, even if you don’t dress to enhance it.”
Bella tried not to laugh. “I was in hot pursuit of the witch, not worrying about my clothing was more important than trying to make myself look good.” She paused and thought. “I’m not... I didn’t know Underhill existed, until recently. The culture I grew up in emphasized competence, not appearance. You could look good, and freeze to death, up there. So it isn’t something I think about unless I am forced to.”
“I see,” he did another of his quick mood changes. “Oh, look! Here it is.”
The system of ponds had once, she thought been connected by fountains or an artificial stream that had long gone. He knelt at the edge, and she watched his boyish enthusiasm, wondering about this odd person. He was very powerful, she’d been able to tell that when he’d manipulated the rose gate. But capricious, no... He was loyal to Lom, for his own reasons. He was not going to abandon them at the littlest thing.
He was pointing now. “Ah, look, one survives! They were a wedding gift from me, to my dear friends. Such a tumultuous courtship.” David shook his head and clucked his tongue.
Bella bent over the water to see the shy fish dart from lily pad to hiding in fallen statuary. A faun, playing panpipes, now lay on his side in the water. The fish had friends, slips of liquid gold darting about in a panic with the giant shadows looming.
“Very pretty, thank you.” Bella told him. “And I am reminded to scry for the hut.”
“Here?” David arched a delicate red-gold eyebrow. He was, Bella suppressed a smile yet again, the prettiest man she had ever met.
“No... I’ll go wake Lom and get my equipment.”
David scrambled up, muddy knees contrasting with the short silk garment, and crooked his elbow again. Bella humored him, putting her hand on his warm arm and strolling back through the garden.
“It is such a shame, all this abandoned.”
He fell back into his sober mood. “All comes to waste, in the end.” He sighed. “I have been lonely, but they die, you know.”
Bella blinked. She was on the arm of an immortal? Raven, she supposed, might be, but he’d been old, very old, for as long as she had known him. She’d assumed he was drawing near his end. David, though, was young enough to look even younger than herself, and from the conversation...
“Why don’t you like dragons?”
He blinked at her sudden change of topics. “Nasty, destructive people. Tearing things down, leaving a wreck in their wake. And they hoard, you know? Well, perhaps you do.” Now he was looking at her suspiciously. “You really don’t know what you are, do you?”
“I am Princess Belladonna Traycroft Mulvaney, Consort-elect to the Western Court, Duchess of Elleria, and a damn good shot.” Bella was chuckling. All the titles still felt like playing dress-up.
He stopped dead and gave her a wide-eyed look.
“What?” Bella asked him, still smiling.
He just shook his head, and started walking again. They turned the corner and found Lom, sitting cross-legged on the velvety bit of lawn, looking into her pan. Bella slipped away from David and went to him.
“I’ve got them...” He told her without looking up. “Slowing, and near here I think.”
“Will David be able to see? He might know the location.” Bella kissed the sun-warm tip of Lom’s slightly pointed ear, and was rewarded with a reflected smile, although he didn’t look up from the scrying bowl.
“David ought to be able. Come look at this.” Lom r
aised his voice for the last half of that and David came to kneel on his other side. All three of them peered at the silvery liquid.
“Dammit...” Lom muttered. “Bella, take over. You are better at this fine detail work than I am.”
Bella reached out, a fingertip to the spell, tweaked it... and the picture sprang into focus. “They have stopped...” She pulled the view out further, so they could see more than just the hut.
“I know where they are. On the banks of the Volga... an old picnic spot. Only a few miles from here.” David explained.
Bella realized the sun was nearing the horizon, dipping behind the trees already. They had been here longer than she realized.
“Let’s go.”
Lom, she noticed, didn’t even hesitate before sitting on the carpet. He pulled weapons out of the thin air.
“Want to do this now, before we get too close and risk not being able to.” Lom caught her multiple grenade launcher, shoulder-held version, with a clank and a grunt. “That thing’s heavy, girl!”
Bella took it from him. “Yeah, but with my special rounds...”
She patted the stock and held it in her lap, where the weight was reassuring. Lom fetched his shotgun. He looked at David. “Want something with range?”
David sniffed. “I am more comfortable with my accustomed weapons.” He flexed his long fingers.
The carpet rose, not nearly as high as he had taken it before, Bella realized. They weren’t even above the trees.
“Hold on tight.” David warned. “We will skim the ground, and go around trees, not over.”
Bella quipped, “Nape of the earth flying, whee.”
David, who couldn’t have possibly known what she was talking about, answered, “That’s an evocative phrase, I’ll remember that.”
Bella looked over at Lom, who was clutching his weapon and looking a bit green already. He stayed silent.
She would never forget that ride, later. They slid silently through the falling twilight, David staring ahead intently, steering with subtle tilts of his body. Bella found herself nauseated, fighting to keep her balance, and finally, when they dropped over the bluff and down to the river, almost weightless for a moment of pure terror. She didn’t know if the carpet was bespelled to keep its passengers on, and the fall was just short enough she wouldn’t be able to catch herself with her wings and fly before hitting the water.
Water, at speed, was hard, she thought, clinging to an edge of the carpet. Lom was holding onto the other side, and she saw him turn his head and vomit, neatly enough that none got on him or their ride.
Fighting, after this, was going to be hard. David raised one hand, silently, in the sign for stopping, and she braced. This landing was not as smooth as the last one had been. Bella pitched forward and caught herself on one hand, the other clamped round the stock of the MGL.
The hut sat on the ground in front of them, black against the trees. The light was failing fast, but Bella could see that one of its four legs was splayed out at an odd angle rather than tucked up neatly underneath it as before.
“Wait until I say go. I’m going to get its attention, you two come in on the flanks...” David whispered. He stood up and walked toward the hut. He was speaking in a different language.
Lom translated for Bella in a low tone as they circled around, moving slowly away from David. “Turn around, turn around, show me your eyes. Look away from the forest, look at me.”
The hut shivered a little, then spun around, placing its door in front of David. There was a light burning inside, Bella decided, as she saw yellow flickers dance in the two small, high windows. It didn’t seem to have seen the two of them, now at the treeline and working their way around behind it. Had it not turned around, they would have been seen.
David was still talking, but Lom had fallen silent. Now he touched Bella’s arm and gestured her to the rear of the hut. She tried to move as quietly as she could. It wasn’t grass, here, felt like weeds and brambles. Compromising between quiet and making forward progress, she could feel thorns reach her skin through the heavy jeans, and tried to ignore them.
David was... Singing? Bella looked at the hut. It had dropped flat, again, and tucked the healthy legs away. Whatever he was doing, it was lulling the hut. Lom made a series of gestures, and she nodded. He was going around one side, she was to take the other. The hut was silent. Then she heard a series of thumps, inside, and felt her lips twitch. They were alive, and trying to communicate.
She reached the corner, and peered around. Lom, on the other side, caught her eye and held up a single finger. She looked at David, who had transformed back into the firebird, and was singing sweetly. His feathers glowed, and she realized where the name came from. He did look like flames, all red and gold and the song was...
The Firebird’s Song
Pure emotion. Sorrow, loss, utter desolation rolled over her and she hiccupped, holding back a sob. David caught her eyes, and flared out his wings, taking to the air. In the midst of the wordless song, a single word.
“Now!”
The door of the hut had swung open. Bella wasn’t sure why, unless it was so much programmed to trap people that it was thinking David would go inside.
Chong and Bella shouted “In here! In here, help, we’re trapped!”
Lom nodded, and Bella went in. It was a risk, but... she saw them, pressed against the walls, long root-like tendrils of wood wrapping around them. Bella was carrying a knife, but for this... she held out her hand. The interdiction didn’t work on this spell, as a heavy, curved machete fell into the hand and she slashed at a root.
“Hold still!” She told them. They froze, with wide eyes, and she slashed at Dorothy. The girl leaped away from the wall as soon as she felt the tendrils loosen, and Bella repeated the maneuver with Chong, grateful the roots weren’t resisting the steel.
With them loose, she headed for the door again. “Run, Dorothy!” she shouted as the girl hesitated. A tendril caught at Bella’s ankle, and she cut at it as the young people were out the door. She was right behind them when the door closed with a heavy cracking noise, and Bella was jerked backward as though someone had caught her with a hand and pulled.
Her hair... She fell backward with the force of her momentum reversed, and screamed. Chong came running back. Bella held out the machete.
“Cut me free, quick!”
The hut could come to its feet and start the spinning move that would almost certainly break her neck instantly. At least she’d die fast.
Lom, she could see past the shocked faces of the kids, was otherwise occupied. Baba Yaga had arrived.
Chong grabbed the hilt of the machete and hefted it.
“Do it! We don’t have time.” Bella told him. She could see the doubt in his eyes, and she leaned as far from the door as she could. He swung, in a beautiful pulling stroke, and she could hear the cut, like ripping silk. Hair gone, she pitched forward, into Dorothy’s arms.
Now she could look at the fight. Lom was using her excavation spell, showering earth into the sky as Baba Yaga skipped and cackled. She was darting quickly, keeping just ahead of Lom. Bella hurled a spell, and the witch fell into the crater it made with a shriek. Both Bella and Lom directed their earth back down onto her. David swooped in overhead with a keening cry, like a hunting hawk.
Behind her, the hut stood up and screamed. Bella spun around, feeling oddly unbalanced without her heavy braid swinging, and threw a fire spell at it. She struck it on the corner, and the fire splashed along the wood in a long streak, the flames clinging, then crackling to life. This was what Bella thought of privately as her napalm spell. Sticky fire. The hut shuddered. Dorothy, she realized, was standing shoulder-to-shoulder to her, and throwing her only offensive spell at it, fire as well. The hut charged at them.
It was half-engulfed in flames, the windows winking malevolently with the flickers reflected on the glass. The door was open again, like a mouth, Bella thought as it leaped at them, all four legs clearing the ground.
Was it trying to fall on them, or eat them with the door-mouth? She threw the excavation spell at it, and it exploded into a cloud of flying splinters. Neither she nor Dorothy had time to even duck before the hail of wood hit them. Bella had used her spell hand to throw in front of her face, but the pain of being struck with shrapnel, even of wood, was enough to knock her to her knees.
They were surrounded with bits of wood, some still burning, and she staggered to her feet to look for Lom and Chong. The men were knee-deep in loose earth, wrestling with something amorphous. It was too dark to see. Bella ran full-tilt toward them, flinging elf-globes ahead of her to give enough light. She was afraid to attack and hit one of them.
Dorothy was on her heels, adding to the lights... smart girl. David wheeled overhead, his feathers adding to the illumination. She could see, now, that massive, muddy arms were coming up through the soil they had dumped on the witch. Many arms, so they didn’t belong to Baba Yaga. They dripped, and one had Lom by the thigh. He was hacking at it with a short sword she’d never seen before. Chong was using her machete.
She didn’t see blood, although gaping wounds and bare bone were visible. Bella readied a spell and threw it at one of the hands which wasn’t holding on to the men. It exploded into gobbets of mud and bone. Dorothy caught on and killed another of the empty, flailing things.
“Lom!” Bella called to him. She didn’t dare run out onto the loose earth. “Try the cherry bomb spell.”
He nodded, slashing at an approaching arm. She watched as he switched sword hands, and started throwing spells with his right, while lashing out with the sword at any nearby hands. Chong, meanwhile, had hacked through the two hands and gotten out of the crater.
Above, David gave a loud cry of warning, and then stooped in a sharp dive, screaming and flaming on his way down. Lom threw himself backwards as Baba Yaga erupted from the dirt, shrieking like a magnified tea kettle. David hit her like a lightning bolt, and they both fell onto the ground.
Trickster Noir (Pixie for Hire Book 2) Page 28
