The Angel and the Dragon (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 8)

by Pearl Goodfellow

  “Very good,” the Witch Fearwyn said. She hesitated, half pointing her broom downward, half pulling it up. “Just … just be careful,” she barked, and dropped like a stone to join Vee and Hinrika.

  I pulled my broom wide, circled the full arc to the back of the waterfall and dropped down to the alleged location of the hidden passageway. And this was where the first miracle happened.

  Because our broom touched down right next to the concealed smugglers entrance that led right into the heart of Burning Peak.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “This is unreal,” Fraidy whispered. His teeth chattered so noisily that the vibration caused his helmet to knock against his small skull. “It’s going down,” he breathed. “It’s really going down.” “It’s probably us who’s going down, so don’t get too excited yet, bro,” Carbon said. Fraidy’s pupils widened. “But we’ve found the tunnel! And the Wyrmrig! We have a chance now, right?” My neurotic kittie’s face looked up at mine. “Right, Hattie?” I picked up my cat and brought him to my chest. I pulled back his helmet, so I could kiss his forehead. “Sweetie, I don’t know. I hope so. I really do,” I said, casting a glance at David. The chief lay prone on his side, groaning. His eyelids fluttered, and I could see the effort in their movements. I leaned down, so my lips hovered just above his ear. “David?” I said. “Can you hear me?” My friend groaned again, his eyelids blinking rapidly once more. He raised himself on one elbow and licked his lips. “Hat?” He whispered. “Where are we?” I pulled my friend’s head into my lap and stroked his lightning-highlighted hair. “We’re here at the tunnel entrance,” I said, smiling down at my friend. “It’s real, David. Can you believe it? The tunnel’s real.” My friend closed his eyes for a second. “Shields’ men?” I shook my head. “They didn’t see us. We’re at the back of the mountain now. We’re pretty sure they don’t know about this entrance.” Midnight stepped up to David’s head and bunted him. “Wassup, chief?” He said. “You’re looking a lot better; I hafta say,” my night-roaming kitty lied. “A nice bit of color to your cheeks now.” “Yeah, it’s nice if you like gray,” Gloom said, unable to contain her honest thoughts. I shooed my she-kitty away. “What … what are we doing here?” The chief asked. “What are we doing here?” Fraidy said in alarm. “What do you mean what are we doing here?” Fraidy’s head swung toward me. “Hattie, the chief’s forgotten what we’re doing here! We’re one man down! Trewlove has gone Cressida on us!” My neurotic cat paced on the spot, eyes worried, ears flat. Incredibly David managed a laugh. A weak, gravelly sound, sure, but at least my friend still had his sense of humor. “No, you daft cat,” he whispered. “I know why we’re here … I just mean why are we huddled at the end of the entrance? Where’s Portia and the others? Where’s the drifter? Why aren’t we inside? What’s the time?” Shade motorboated his lips. “Woah, chief, dude, man, take it easy with the questions, yeah?” He patted David’s forehead with a friendly paw. “We’re waiting for Portia and the faeries. They’re tracking Jyldrar now. They’re hoping to steer him to the entrance here … if he isn’t already on his way, that is. And the time is ….” Shade looked at me. “Ten after two,” I said, the words nearly sticking in my throat. How did it get so late? And how did we get ourselves in such an impossible situation? Sitting outside a tunnel we didn’t know existed any more than an hour ago, waiting for a man who we believed carried the Elder Code so that we could follow him into a dark cavern for a possible stand-off with another dragon. My herb-crafting days seemed so distant and, if I’m to be honest, kinda silly, in light of what we were facing. David grimaced. He squeezed his eyes shut and tensed, and I could almost feel the wave of pain that ravaged his weakening body. I had to turn my head away. “Where are they?” Carbon said, his tail slamming an impatient rhythm on the packed earth next to the tunnel. “We’re running out of time.” I reached out for my fireside cat and rubbed his back. “Just relax, buddy, okay? They’re coming, so let’s just sit here and catch our breath for a few minutes.” I looked at my friend. “The chief could certainly do with the rest.” Gloom huffed. “Well, I don’t know how long I can keep this hideous thing on my head for,” she said, pointing to her helmet. “It’s making my ears sweaty.” “I have an idea,” I said, plastering a false smile on my face. “Why don’t we all try and have a little cat nap? Hey? Sound good? A quick five-minute doze while we wait? It’ll help with the tension, I promise.” I patted the ground next to me, but Gloom only gave me her ‘you’re crazy’ face. She followed her derisive look with a view of her backside. Midnight, on the other hand, took me up on the offer. My night-roaming kitty had been without his daytime naps for quite some time now -- what with all the murder investigations he’d been helping with -- so he couldn’t resist the offer of a slice of luxurious mid-afternoon shut-eye. He stretched first his front paws, then his back, and then, sitting close to me, he curled into a cute cinnamon swirl and fell, hard, into some daytime slumbering action. Middie started sawing logs almost immediately. “I can’t believe he can sleep in a time like this,” Gloom said, her face a picture of disdain. “Oh, shush,” I said. “When the body's stressed, it’s entirely natural to want to sleep.” I looked at my grumpy she-cat. “You know, Gloom, you could probably benefit from a little doze yourself. Might put you in a better mood.” My cat said nothing; just continued sucking her lemons. “Where are they?” Carbon queried again, climbing atop an outcrop of black diamond to survey the immediate area. “They should be here by now.” Shade, ordinarily the most relaxed of the bunch, looked jittery. He signaled to the valley below. “Boss, think we should take a look down there? See if we can spot ‘em?” I shook my head. “No, buddy. I want you all here where I can see you. They’ll be along soon, don’t worry.” A thread of worry filled my heart even as I spoke the words. Eclipse, sat on a rock across from me, craned his neck to the sky. “None of the governor’s goons are flying, at least,” he observed. “I think Shade has the right idea, though. One of us should go check where they are.” I stood up, a flare of anger rushing through my body. “Nobody’s going anywhere, understood?” I yelled. “We’re waiting here, as per the plan. They’ll be along soon, so please can I have you all here with me in PLAIN VIEW?” Jet, who had bounced off to a ledge above us, turned. “Yep, yep, got it, I’m coming, I’m coming, yep.” My catnip-addled cat jumped down to join his waiting siblings, and together we sat in silence, in a loosely huddled circle, waiting for our friends; our fellow Custodians, to arrive with the carrier of the Elder Code. But the Custodians didn’t come. I checked my watch again and was horrified to see it was nearly four p.m. What, were we in a time-warp, or something? My mouth filled with saliva as a wave of nausea hit me. David groaned, and I watched, helpless, as the chief tried to pull himself up on a nearby boulder. “We have to get …. to get … moving,” he gasped. I laid a hand on my friend’s forehead, applying a little pressure to try to get him to put back down. “David, no,” I said. “We have a plan, and we need to stick to it. I’m not letting anyone wander off …” A bolt of black fur in my peripheral vision cut me off. “‘Clipsy, no! Get back here right now!” I screamed after my enigma-kitty. Eclipse didn’t answer, however. With his controlled movements, I watched as my cat disappeared into the mouth of the tunnel. Shade looked at me with earnest eyes. “Want me to go after him, boss-lady?” I swallowed and nodded silently. “Be quick,” I said. “Come straight back here, okay, Shadester? No poking around in that passage. Straight. Back. Out. Here. Got it?” Shade didn’t answer; he was already bolting into the maw of the dark tunnel. “I don’t like this,” Fraidy said. “Not one bit. This doesn’t feel right, does it?” He swung his head around the circle, looking for confirmation that this situation wasn’t right, but was only met with stunned silence. David stirred again; this time pushing himself up with his elbow until he reached a half sitting position. The chief passed a tongue over his parched lips again. “We need … to get going. We need --” “Boss!” Shade’s voice hissed from the mouth of the tunnel. My good-natured
tom beckoned me with a twitchy paw. Laying David’s head down, I jumped up and ran over to my cat. “What is it, Shadester? What did you find?” “Come and take a look at this,” he beckoned again. “We’ve made a mistake. The tunnel …. It forks. There’s another entrance behind this,” he said, darting his paw to the outcrop Jet had jumped onto earlier. “It’s behind that rock there. That’s where the Custodians and the Wyrmrig came in.” He looked at me. “We missed them, boss. We’re sitting outside the wrong entrance.” I let my mouth hang open before I spoke. “What do you mean we’re outside the wrong entrance? How do you know the Custodian’s used the other fork?” Moving up behind his brother, Eclipse held up his paw. Between his furry digits hung a long string of black licorice. And I really doubted the candy came from anywhere other than Iceland. My mouth fell open again, and Eclipse nodded. “Yep. We forked up,” he said, deadpan. Gloom stared at her brother, her eyes the size of dinner plates. “You’re forking kidding me.” “It ain't a joke, sis,” Shade said, already turning toward the tunnel again. “We’re here at the wrong entrance.” “Forking hell, this is a disaster” Midnight said, waking up from his nap. A rustling sound made us all turn our heads toward the chief. My friend had hoisted himself to one knee and was now grappling with the stone behind him trying to lift himself the rest of the way. He turned, his pallid complexion eerily bright against the dark circles under his eyes. “Time to get the fork out of here,” he said, and took his first lurching step toward the tunnel; Shade and Eclipse, immediately joining the chief on his journey, trotted next to his ankles. What could the rest of us do? We had no choice but to follow. “Guys, stay close,” I instructed in a low whisper as we entered the passageway. “Not that close, sweetie.” Fraidy’s helmet rubbed, warm and friction-y against my ankle. “It’s dark,” he said, his teeth gently rattling. “Watch where you’re stepping, dufus,” Gloom spat. “I didn’t just wash my paws for you to go galumphing over them.” “It … it’s dark,” he said again, almost dazedly. “No kidding,” Carbon confirmed. “Want me to light up, Hattie?” I shook my head even though my cat probably couldn’t see me. “No, buddy, don’t make fire. Just stay close to my ankles, and close to the walls, okay? Feel your way along. David? Are you doing okay? Where are you?” I extended my arms in the direction where I’d last seen my friend, but my hand closed around nothing but dank air. “David?” A fumbling hand crawled over my face. “Here,” he said, his voice reedy. I grabbed my friend’s hand and put it around my neck, bumping my shoulder up and under his armpit. “You can’t do this alone,” I explained. David didn’t argue. In fact, my friend let his weight fall on me, probably grateful for the support. Like this, we tripped, stumbled and floundered our way down the length of the pitch-black passageway, David’s ragged breathing fraying my nerves with every step. I was just about to request a rest stop when one of my cats hissed. “Sssshh. I think I hear something,” the invisible moggie said. I couldn’t make which of my kitties had uttered the words, but I followed their command for silence anyway. I leaned David against the wall, steadying him with my shoulder and hip, and pricked my ears. Yes. Voices. Male voices, somewhere in the near distance. I took shallow breaths as I heard the unmistakable chocolatey-smooth laugh of Gideon Shields. “Let’s keep going,” one of my other cats hiss-whispered. I nodded in the darkness once again and moved on, my forehead perspiring from the effort of carrying the lead weight of my friend. Just ten or so steps forward and the outline of my lead kittie’s head began to emerge from the blackness. There was light up ahead. And the more the light penetrated the dark shaft we staggered along, the louder the voices became. Ankou’s throaty chuckle pierced through the moist air. We were getting close. “I think we’re close,” Shade said quietly. I recognized his prominent chin against the gauzy light coming from the cavern that lay ahead of us. The conversation between Ankou and the governor continued; clacking along as if the two had bumped into one another at the Sunday market. Absurd. Finally, the light became more defined; more alive. Before we even reached the mouth of the cave, the reflection of dancing flame was unmistakable as light and shadow jigged a haphazard dance along the cavern walls. And that’s when I saw Portia, Verdantia, and Hinrika. Tied-up, gagged, back to back on the floor. Whether Portia possessed a sixth sense, or whether it was pure coincidence, she turned her head slowly in our direction, and her brittle black eyes pierced the darkness between us. I may have imagined it, but I swear I saw recognition bloom in the Witch Fearwyn’s eyes. The governor and Ankou were still out of our line of sight, which was probably a good thing, or else we’d likely be on the floor with Portia and the faeries in an instant. The conversation continued, but behind a mantel of fantastically formed rock. Where’s the Wyrmrig, Hattie? Where’s Typhon Jyldrar and his Elder Code? I shrugged off the claustrophobic feeling of doom the best I could, but in the pit of my stomach, I knew something had gone wrong. “Wait,” I urged my entourage, my hand held up in a ‘halt’ sign. “We have to free them before we do anything,” I said, nodding my head toward our captured friends. “I’m on it, boss,” Shade said, already slinking against the clammy cave walls toward the Custodians. “I will assist my brother in this venture,” Onyx reported, snaking his own path to the hostage site. “Be careful,” I whispered after them both. I felt claws sink into and through the leather of my shoes. Fraidy’s small face was virtually covered with his dragonsteel headwear as he peered up at me with only a narrow edge of his eyes visible. “Where’s the drifter, Hattie?” I shrugged and mouthed the words ‘I don’t know.’ Because I didn’t. Look, it wasn’t like I felt we had much of a chance of swaying the Wyrmrig’s homicidal tendencies or anything … but I still would have liked to have been given the opportunity to try, at least. But the drifter, if he was in this cave, was neither visible nor audible. Had Shields got to Jyldrar first? My mind exploded in a torrent of unanswered questions and uncertainty, and I had to focus on my breathing so that I could take in some much-needed oxygen. Shade and Onyx reached the Custodians, finally, and began picking at the ties with their deft and expert claws. They worked in silence, their faces grim. I could see Vee nodding slightly as Shade applied his cat magic to the faerie’s bound wrists. He must have loosened something going by Verdantia’s nodding affirmation. I watched as Vee’s hand came free. She leaned forward, cupped Shade’s face, gave him a silent, gruff kiss, and then got to work on helping Onyx free the others. David stirred, his head inadvertently knocking into mine. “Hat?” He managed. “What’s going on?” He tried to extricate himself from my arms, groping for the cave wall, moving his head carefully to look around. I put my finger to my lips in an urgent request for silence, while pointing my other hand toward the Custodian’s, Onyx and Shade. David watched as Portia, Vee and Hinrika crawled on their hands and knees toward us, their gags still in place over their mouths. Onyx led the procession, while Shade slinked low to the ground, bringing up the rear. I reached for the Witch Fearwyn just as she hit the mouth of the tunnel where David and I stood with the rest of the cats. “Portia, are you okay?” I asked, pulling her up from the ground. She yanked at the gag, letting it drop to her feet.“Where were you?” It was the fiercest whisper I’d ever heard, and I noticed the old witch’s already black eyes darken, even in the gloom. “There were two entrances,” I explained hastily. “We came down on the wrong side. I’m … I’m sorry.” I dropped my chin to my chest before I let the apology fly. “It is of no matter, Hattie.” Hinrika’s voice was gentle. “You are here now, and you have released us from our bondage.” At least someone is grateful.

  David, in a half stupor, helped Vee to her feet and untied her gag with a badly shaking hand. Verdantia wheeled around and looked at me. “Hattie, the chief is not doing well. He is too close to the governor.”

  I cast a glimpse at my friend, now bearing all his weight on the greengrocer fairy. “I know,” I said. “We’ll have him wait here. We’ll assign a couple of the c--”

  “We have no time for a discussion about the chief’s wellbeing!”
Portia’s whisper hit us like a slew of slicing daggers. “Shields is about to set his dragon in motion; he has the Tiamat stone in his hands right now. Jydlrar is on the floor, probably unconscious, and we need to get that stone to come in contact with the drifter. And when I say we need to do this, I don’t mean next week, I mean right now.”

  “He’s unconscious?” I asked, prolonging the pointless conversation.

  “Shields hit him with a spell as soon as he entered the cave,” Vee said. The faerie’s ethereal beauty somehow managed to penetrated the murky air; waves of soft golden light radiating from her body. “The governor had his goons drag him right up-close to the stone. Shields, no doubt aims to torment the carrier of the Elder Code by showing him just how close he came to realizing his destiny.”

  “He’s going to throw that stone into Ankou’s Mag Mell portal,” Eclipse said.

  “That is exactly what is going to happen,” Portia barked. “If we don’t put an end to this chit-chatting about the weather, knitting patterns, and whatnot, that is.” She looked at each of us. “Custodians, are you ready?”

  The soft sound of tinkling hardware sprinkled the air as my kitties nodded their reluctant agreement. I looked down at Fraidy. He was shaking badly. Like a leaf in a merciless gale. With a heavy heart, I noticed his back legs almost buckle as he took a step toward Portia to pledge his allegiance. My brave and terrified cat’s tongue rolled out one side of his mouth as he struggled to catch a worthwhile breath.

  It was Midnight, though, who was the first to break from our ragged little pack. Without a word of warning, my night-loving moggie, fresh from his afternoon cat nap, sauntered into the arena. Into the direct presence of the Chief Warlock himself, and the evil overlord’s soon-to-be-awake dragon