A strong pair of arms lifted him back to his feet.
“Thanks, Mood,” he said, limping forward.
“Hah,” Cass grinned, “is that an insult or a poor attempt at humor?”
Fogle turned to face her, unable to hide his surprise. She locked her fingers around his and held him tight. He tried to pull his hand away, but her firm grip would not give. A moment of panic surged within him. “What are you doing?” he said, “Let go!” He summoned his energy, but her next words subdued his efforts.
“I am your prisoner,” she said, kissing his hand.
A lump formed in his throat. His embarrassment at her being stronger than him, physically, began to fade, and he allowed her warm flesh to become one with his.
Mood stood before them with big meaty hands on his hips, a burning cigar hanging out of his mouth.
“Sheesh, just try in’ keep up. I’m starting to miss my home already.”
But for the time being, Fogle Boon was in no hurry.
CHAPTER 30
“I’m going, Kam!” Georgio yelled.
Kam shot back, “No, you certainly are not!”
The Magi Roost was empty except for a handful of people including Mikkel, Billip, Joline, Georgio and herself. The madness that consumed the City of Three the prior day had finally come to a close, and now the morning suns of the new day were on the rise. The underlings had brought not only chaos, but fire to the safe harbor of the city. The damage was minimal at worst, but the impact the presence of the underlings had was devastating. For the first time in decades, so far as anyone knew, almost every window and door was locked.
Georgio rose up to his full height, a young man now, but a man nonetheless, and said, “I can do whatever I want. I have family in the south, too, and I want to check on them. I can take care of myself, and I’ll have Mikkel and Billip with me. You can’t make me stay!” He rapped his first on the bar.
Kam’s green eyes were like burning emeralds, and she was shaking with anger and guilt.
“No you won’t!”
“Yes I will!” Georgio jumped in her face.
Her eyes fastened on his, blazed with anger, and she began to mumble a spell.
Joline’s perspiring face came between the two of them.
“Enough, you two!” Joline stammered, unable to hide the shock on her face. “This isn’t the right way to settle this,” she said, voice shaking. “Georgio, you are way out of line, talking to Kam that way. She’s only done the best by you.”
Georgio sulked and turned away, but Joline caught him by his earlobe.
“OW!”
“Sit down, Boy! And don’t make me raise my voice again.”
Georgio frowned as he plopped down on the nearest chair and brushed his long curly locks from his face.
Mikkel stood up, mouth beginning to fill with words, drawing Kam’s glare. He closed his mouth and resumed his seat on the groaning stool.
I can’t believe this. She took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead. Her nose was running. Mere hours ago, she had slaughtered a small host of underlings, yet now she was struggling to maintain her wits against the will of an elder boy. She raised her fingers and a half-moon bottle of Muckle Sap floated her way—and was intercepted by Joline.
“Joline,” Kam warned, “now is not the time.”
As the older woman’s lips parted, Kam snatched the bottle from her hand.
“Don’t you dare do that again!” Joline fired back. “I can still turn you over my knee!”
Mikkel and Billip's brows perched.
“I’m hungry,” Georgio said.
Kam felt her mind unraveling. Things seemed to be happening all at once: underlings had invaded her city; Mikkel and Billip were leaving, and now Georgio wanted to go. Venir was either dead or had abandoned her and his daughter Erin. She tilted the bottle to her lips and drank. Pull it together.
“Kam,” Joline said with shock, “you aren’t some commoner. You’re a Royal.”
Kam handed her back the jug and said, “And I just killed a hive of underlings, so I think you can give my bad graces a pass.” She wrapped her arms around Joline and said, “And I’m very sorry, too.”
The brief awkward silence was broken when Billip offered a suggestion, saying, “I think she still deserves a spanking.”
Kam let out a little laugh, quiet and pleasant. Joline started to get the giggles. Before she knew what was happening, everyone was laughing, even Georgio chuckled a little. Still laughing, she pulled him up from his chair and said with tears in her eyes, “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” he admitted, hugging her.
Now that the mood had softened in the room, everyone gathered at a big round table by the largest fireplace. Kam was exhausted. Joline looked exhausted, and for the first time since she knew them, Billip and Mikkel’s energy seemed drained. Only Georgio remained bright-eyed as he dug a wooden spoon into a large bowl of Joline’s stew. Billip and Joline sat beside one another, shoulder to shoulder. It seemed Kam wasn’t as aware of things as she’d like to think she was.
“Now, let me be clear,” she said to all, but looking at Georgio. “I don’t want you to go, but I can’t make you stay, any of you, and,” she fought back a choking sob, “I don’t like it.”
“Ah Kam,” Mikkel said, “I’ll stay.”
“No. No, you won’t. You have to get your son, and you’ll need help. Bish, this is so hard!”She had always figured that things would be simpler once the formidable men parted ways and the boys grew up, but this was painful. Her heart ached. And underlings, ghastly creatures unlike she ever imagined, were waiting out there. She didn’t understand how they had the courage to risk their lives going back, knowing full well what was out there.
“Also,” she continued, “what about Lefty?”
Georgio looked away, arms crossed over his chest, frowning.
“Don’t you want to say good-bye, Georgio? He’s your best friend.”
Georgio mumbled something.
“What was that?” she said.
“Was—I said!”
“You don’t mean that,” Kam frowned.
“I do mean that. His best friend is the freakish fingered Gillem now. I swear I don’t know why all of you like him. He’s evil!”
Georgio started to get up, but Mikkel’s stern look sat him back down.
For the life of her, Kam hadn’t found a single reason to distrust Master Gillem. She’d been paying attention, but maybe not so much as she thought. After all, there had been more than enough distractions lately. As for Gillem being evil, it was absurd, but Georgio was young, and he and his best friend had clearly drifted since Gillem’s arrival. Her sudden sickness and the relief Gillem brought did seem a bit too timely.
“Men,” she said to Mikkel and Billip, “is there any reason to distrust Gillem? Do you think he’s posed a danger to our dear Lefty?”
Mikkel shook his head and said, “No, he’s been more than helpful.”
“And not overtly so,” Billip said, popping his knuckles.
“Stop that,” Joline said, wrapping her fingers around Billip’s. “Will you ever learn your manners?” The older woman let out a squeal as Billip wiggled his fingers around her waist.
“I think Georgio's just missing his little friend is all,” Mikkel continued, rubbing Georgio’s head. “But, it’s just part of growing up, and halflings are a different race. They have their own ways.”
Georgio shoved Mikkel’s thick wristed hand away and said through his teeth, “You are an idiot, Mikkel. And so are you, Billip. If Venir were here, he would know better.”
Joline gasped, saying, “Georgio!”
Kam slammed her hands onto the table as she rose, saying, “What has gotten into you, Georgio? You're the one acting evil!” She would have done anything to retrieve her words, and if there were such a spell she would have used it. Georgio’s handsome round face was now pitiful and sad. His brown eyes watered, and he began to snivel. She reached over to touch him, b
ut he turned his chair away.
“Everyone ease up,” Billip suggested. “Georgio’s upset and mad, and he’s entitled. Besides, It’s not like I haven’t been called stupid before. Well, at least I don’t think I’ve not been called stupid, so far as I remember.”
But no one seemed to be listening to his words, least of all Kam, who felt like dirt. Venir. Where is that handsome lout who caused all this? She dabbed her nose with a dish rag and blew. It was an awful sound.
In the meantime, Mikkel reached over, grabbed a handful of Georgio’s curly hair, pulled him half out of his seat and said, “You call me an idiot again and I’ll bust your fat little arse, Boy.”
Georgio’s eyes enlarged like moons before Mikkel let him back down.
“Sorry,” he managed. “It’s just that, I know Venir is out there, and I want to go find him. Maybe he and Chongo are back in Bone—or Two-Ten City? He has to be fighting underlings. Maybe that’s why they're leaving the south, because Venir’s slaughtering them like he always does.”
Kam blew her nose again. She saw Billip and Mikkel give each other hopeless looks. Georgio was a long way from letting Venir go, unlike the rest of them. If anything, the underling assaults were the result of Venir being dead, not alive.
Joline then said, “We can’t be parting ways like this, and I can’t stay up all night, either. Georgio, I’ll keep tabs on Lefty and Master Gillem. I have to say, no man or halfling should be so charming, and he is a bit too nosy for my liking. I love the flowers, and his words, and the way they trickle from his tongue like honey, but … well … I’ll leave it at that. I think we all need to be more careful … times are not as they were.”
The roasting fire behind Kam did little to warm her spirits. Her friends were leaving, and like Venir and Fogle, she didn’t know if she would ever see them again. She scanned the Magi Roost and was overwhelmed with memories. For over a decade it had been her home, and she knew every inch of its fabric from the creaking floorboards to every glass and goblet behind the bar. It was all a part of her. But it had never been so filled with life as it had been these past few months. She looked at the bloodstain on the floor, one table over, where Venir and Fogle had held their legendary Mind Grumble. She whimpered inside. She wanted him back. She wanted them all back to have things like they were before, even if only for one more day.
“Kam,” Mikkel’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts, “are you well? You look a little lost over there.”
“I’m fine. I just realized that, like so many people, I’ve never been anywhere else before.”
Joline kicked her in the leg.
“Do you think you’re going to run off and leave your baby? Or me, for that matter?”
“I’ll take her with me.”
“You set one foot outside of this city with baby Erin … well … neither of you might ever come back again. I can’t handle that,” Joline got up, flushed, and rushed off to the kitchen.
Kam felt foolish for even suggesting such a thing, and the looks in the men’s eyes were ones of grave concern. Georgio had the most worried look of all.
“Clearly I am the only idiot here,” she said, standing up. She walked over to Billip and Mikkel, hugged their backs and kissed their heads. Then she did the same to Georgio. She was numb as she walked away and said the rest: “See me before you go. I’ll have something for you.”
For now, all she wanted to do was crawl in a hole.
CHAPTER 31
The Nest had many wonders one would never imagine … a secret city beneath the golden thrones above. Not many men, or women for that matter, knew of its existence. Even the highest ranking Royals in the City of Three did not know of the location, nor did they care. But there it was: private, quiet, with as many amenities in its crowded nooks as the world above, except for the burning suns and eerie moons. As a matter of fact, it would be a great place to live, if it wasn’t full of thieves.
That bothered Lefty as he hurried alongside Master Gillem with a nervous look in his eye and a rapid little heart pounding behind his breast. The novelty of stealing had begun to wear off. It was one thing to make a few ends meet and quite another having to do it against one’s own free will. He rubbed his running nose. Something about the moldy air in the dank city bothered him.
“Gillem,” he said, “are we going to see Palos now?”
“Prince Palos,” Gillem responded, strutting the streets in a long gait, nodding to all of the cohorts they passed by.
The last few hours had been out of the ordinary. Something was going on, and every crooked spine in the Nest had an urgent gesture about it. Whatever was going on, Lefty wasn’t being filled in.
He pulled at the long sleeve of Gillem’s cotton white shirt and said, “Will you tell me something? What's going on?”
Gillem rubbed his blond locks with his skinny, man-sized fingers that reminded Lefty of Melegal. “Lefty Lightfoot, now is the time to be silent, follow and listen. Yes, something is going on, but that is no matter to us. We serve the Prince of Thieves, and that is all that matters. He will tell us what we can worry about and what we cannot. Now come along.”
Lefty didn’t like the sound of that. He rubbed the goosebumps on his arms, but they wouldn’t go away, not since he'd seen the trove of bodies in their watery graves. He knew, right then and there, he had to make a change. But how? Palos would kill him, of that much he was certain. The Prince of Thieves had made that perfectly clear on more than one occasion. What would Melegal do? When will Venir get back? He had convinced himself he wouldn’t need them anymore, but on days like this he was reminded how much he did.
“Come on, Lad. We don’t need to make the Prince mad,” Gillem said as they entered the tavern home of Palos. Gillem didn’t offer a single word to the handful of patrons as they made their way up the steps to the balcony.
There stood Thorn, tall and gruesome, big arms crossed over his broad chest, short swords dangling on his hips, blocking the door to Palos’s haphazard throne room. Behind Thorn, leaning on the balcony rail, was the other man, small crossbow in hand, toothpick dangling from his mouth, whose name Lefty did not yet know. The man’s mousy eyes fixated on Lefty as he stood up and leveled the crossbow at his chest, winked and turned away. Lefty slid a little farther behind Gillem.
“He summoned us, Thorn,” Gillem said with an agitated tone, “so open the door, Cretin.”
Thorn let out a little snort as he glared down on them like rodents and pushed the door open, taking his time before he stepped aside. Without hesitation Gillem entered, and Lefty stayed on his heels. A brush of air bristled his hair as Thorn slammed the door closed behind them. Lefty let out a sigh. Here we are again. How dreadful. The room was empty of life other than the blazing fire inside a marble mantle made for a Royal, with a great sword hanging over the top.
“Have a seat,” Gillem gestured toward the table that was half covered with piles of silver and gold coins among other trinkets and jewelry.
The older halfling pulled out a small sack and dropped it with a clank in front of Palos’s chair at the head of the table. Lefty saw Gillem’s face bunch up as he drew his long fingers away in slow motion. Two weeks of work was in there, a small fortune, a bag of trinkets and trophies, all gone to where? Lefty couldn’t help but wonder where it all went and how Palos could possibly spend it all.
Gillem sat down beside him and poured a goblet of wine.
“Thirsty, Lefty?”
My throat is as dry as a cup of Outland sand.
“No.”
“Don’t be rude, Lefty. If Palos drinks, you drink.”
Lefty crinkled his nose. Wine and ale weren’t anything he cared to indulge in, unlike the rest of the populace of the Nest, who took a great deal of pride in swilling wine and telling foul jokes. It was fun at first, until the women came, carousing the tavern and stirring the men into a frenzy of hooting and hollering beasts. Lefty never knew the meaning of the word appalled or that such a feeling existed until he came to the Nest.
Now he found himself feeling appalled every time he came back. He wondered if Gillem ever felt the same, but the master thief didn’t ever seem to be bothered by anything, except by Palos.
Gillem slapped him on the shoulder, causing him to raise his head from the table. The warmth of the fire began to seep into his little bones and fill his head with weariness. Palos’s bedroom door creaked open, and there the Prince of Thieves stood in a long flowing black silk bathrobe with a belt tightly wrapped around his rotund belly. Palos had put on a few pounds since the first time they met, but he still moved with grace that belied his girth.
“Little thieves,” he said, taking a seat at the table, “literally, and with little purses, I see.” Palos snatched up Gillem’s sack, tested its heft and tossed it aside with all rest. “Really, Master Gillem, that’s hardly a day’s work, if that.”
Lefty watched Gillem’s shoulders draw back. It was double what they turned in two weeks before, if not more, and it had been a prosperous couple of weeks.
“You two wouldn’t be holding out on me, would you?” said Palos, like a slithering snake.
Lefty looked into Palos's pale probing eyes that were filled with an unnatural, tireless energy. It was as if the man was too greedy to sleep for fear of a rat snatching a golden crumb of cheese. Gone was the charming man he met above, now permanently replaced by something maniacal and greedy. I can’t do this.
“Certainly not, Palos,” Gillem shot back, his fingers falling to his pockets.
“Oh Master Longfingers, I remember our days when you mentored me. Did we not return with more booty than this little sack?”
“No, we did not,” the halfling disagreed.
You tell him, Gillem!
The Darkslayer: Book 04 - Danger and the Druid Page 17
