The two Templars exchanged a brief glance, and then one of them lunged forward, bashing the front door with his mace, shattering the icy crust that covered it. The other man leapt to his side and wrenched the door open before shoving the sputtering Matron Shelbie out into the pink light of dusk.
“Really?” Garrett sighed, rushing to the front door to watch them scurry down the front steps and pile into Matron Shelbie’s carriage to take off down Vaaste Street as though all the forces of hell were snapping at their heels. He blew a puff of air through his cheeks and slammed the door in disgust.
The heavy thump of feet coming up from the cellar drew his attention to the hallway again. Diggs came spilling out of the side hall with a canister of essence in each hand and a wild look in his eyes. He was huffing like a bellows and unable to speak as he looked around, trying to find something to throw magic fire at.
Scupp came in a moment later, pushing her brother aside. “They aren’t here yet?” she panted.
“They got away,” Garrett sighed.
“What?” Diggs moaned. He raised his canister-filled paws questioningly.
“They saw me and ran,” Garrett said, “It was only like three of ‘em anyway.”
“That is a pretty scary stick,” Scupp said with a shrug, “How’d you get it to do that anyway?”
Garrett suddenly realized that Uncle Tinjin’s staff was still writhing with cold blue flames. “Oh… uh,” he said, trying to shake free the nearly full canister still frozen to his left palm. He had to bang it against the wall to break enough ice loose to put the canister away again.
He looked up from closing the satchel flap, flexing his numb fingers, to realize the staff was still burning. “Ah…” he managed, at a loss for words.
“What happened?” Warren demanded, wheezing slightly as he entered the hallway, clutching his side.
“Garrett scared off all the bad guys with his flamey magic stick,” Diggs growled.
“Oh, well, what do I tell all these guys then?” he gestured toward the hallway as he stepped back to let even more ghouls come up from the cellar below.
“I’m sorry, but you just missed ‘em,” Garrett said, still trying to extinguish the blue flames that emanated from his staff. He pounded it on the floor experimentally, but the flames just intensified.
“Just missed ‘em?” Diggs asked, “Where’d they go?”
“Off down the street a few seconds ago,” Garrett said, trying to blow the flames out now. They crackled and roiled, forming little tendrils of flame like fiery claws clinging to the iron of the staff.
Diggs threw back his head and howled, startling Garrett from his distraction. Garrett looked up to see the brindle furred ghoul loping toward him down the hallway with wild eyes and drool dripping from his jaws.
“Gah!” Garrett cried, jumping aside and pulling the door open to let Diggs rush out of the house.
Several of the other ghouls joined together in a wild baying howl and chased after him. Garrett was able to poke his head out the door and shout, “Other way, Diggs!” before he had to jump back and let the other ghouls pass.
“Might as well,” Warren groaned and followed after them.
Scupp followed close behind her pack mates. She stopped just short of the door and gave Garrett a grin.
“You comin’?” she asked.
“They’re gone,” he said, “We’ll never catch them.”
Scupp chuckled and shook her head. “You ever try to outrun a ghoul?” she asked.
Garrett hadn’t thought of that. “All right,” he said.
“Try and keep up,” Scupp laughed.
Scupp was already on the street and had turned to follow the others by the time Garrett reached the bottom of the steps. His staff was still on fire. He thought about leaving it behind, but he didn’t want to lose sight of the ghouls, so he jogged after them, trailing sparkling blue embers behind him.
“Hi, Mister Tiggs!” Garrett said, waving at his neighbor who was standing on his front steps with a look of utter astonishment on his face. The elderly scribe waved back mutely.
Garrett thought about trying to explain, but gave up after a moment, shaking his head and saying only, “It’s been a really weird day, Mister Tiggs.”
“Quite so,” the scribe said before turning to go back inside.
Garrett ran after the ghouls, losing sight of them as they rounded the bend in Vaaste Street, headed toward the Chapel Ward. Their doleful baying still echoed above the rooftops, mingled with the screams of frightened townsfolk who had probably never seen a pack of wild ghouls running through their streets before.
Garrett sighed in frustration as he faced a number of side streets, uncertain which way the ghouls had gone. He turned to ask an addled young man in a deliveryman’s uniform if he had seen which way they went, but, when he noticed Garrett standing beside him, the boy screamed in terror and ran away.
Garrett held up the flaming staff in disgust. “Will you please go out?” he asked.
The blue flames sputtered and then disappeared with a whoosh.
“Thank you,” Garrett sighed.
“You need me to carry you?” Scupp called out as she emerged from a side street.
“Would you?” Garrett replied sarcastically.
“Sure,” Scupp said, scooping Garrett up and throwing him over her shoulder.
“I was kidding!” Garrett cried.
“Too bad,” Scupp said, carrying him with her as she loped off in the direction of the loudest howling.
“Put me down!” Garrett said. It was all he could do to keep the iron staff from whacking her in the tail as he bounced along across her back.
“In a minute,” she said, “Just keep quiet and let me listen!”
Garrett fumed in silence. He felt one of Scupp’s long ears tickle his hip as it picked up to listen to the hunting calls of the ghoul pack.
“Ah ha!” she laughed and then ran off down one of the side streets with Garrett still across her back.
“What’s going on?” Garrett demanded.
“Diggs and the others cut ‘em off!” Scupp laughed, “He’s herdin’ ‘em back toward the market.”
“Really?” Garrett asked.
“Yeah, if we hurry we can catch ‘em,” Scupp said.
“Go!” Garrett said. He braced himself as Scupp leaned into it, bouncing along on two legs and a forepaw, her right hand still holding on tightly to Garrett’s belt.
People screamed as Scupp burst out from a side street into a crowded market square, full of people trying to finish their shopping before Curfew. Scupp spun searching for any sign of their quarry, leaving Garrett a bit dizzy as he fought to reassure the shoppers with a friendly wave.
“It’s all right!” Garrett cried out, “We’re friendly!”
Scupp simply snarled, baring her fangs at the crowd of people surrounding her. They scattered in terror, clearing the street in a matter of moments.
Garrett frowned at the brindle ghoul as she set him on his feet.
“Easier to see where we’re at now,” she said with a toothy grin.
Garrett shook his head.
Then they heard the clatter of hooves on cobblestones and a deafening rattle as Matron Shelbie’s carriage rounded a corner into view. From the looks of it, it was about to lose a wheel.
“Is that them?” Scupp asked.
“Yeah,” Garrett said, reaching for an essence flask.
Scupp threw back her muzzle and howled at the sky.
More ghoulish howls answered from beyond every rooftop.
Garrett could see the terror in the carriage driver’s eyes and the rage in Shelbie's. Garrett grinned back, leveling the head of his staff at the occupants of the carriage.
“Matron Shelbie!” Garrett cried, “You are under arrest!”
Shelbie opened her mouth to speak, but just then the left rear wheel of the carriage separated from its axel and bounced free, smashing a fruit cart as it rolled away. The broken axel dragged a trail
of sparks through the street as the other rear wheel came off and the back end of the carriage dropped and dragged.
One of the Templars fell out onto the street with a curse, and Shelbie wrapped her arms around the remaining Templar’s neck, holding on with panicked strength. Garrett had to laugh at the man’s choked expression as the careening carriage rushed past before slamming into the corner of a nearby building and disintegrating into a pile of green splinters.
The horses dragged the front axel and wheels away, leaving the passengers, stunned in the wreckage of the carriage. Scupp wasted no time in pouncing in, laying out the muddled Templar with a fierce blow to the head. The carriage driver scrambled clear and fled in fear as Matron Shelbie crawled away as fast as she could on hands and knees.
“That’s far enough!” Garrett cried, pointing his staff at the Matron.
Scupp howled again, a blood-chilling sound, answered now by a dozen other howls as the rest of the pack caught up, surrounding the disheveled Matron as she cowered in the street. Diggs and Warren shared a triumphant claw swipe between them.
“I knew it!” Matron Shelbie hissed, her eyes filled with hatred as she stared up at Garrett, “You are in league with demons!”
The ghouls hooted with manic laughter.
“Demons?” Garrett said, shaking his head, “No… they aren’t demons. They’re the people of this city. This is their home as much as it is anybody else’s, and they don’t want to lose it to a traitor like you!”
“Traitor?” Matron Shelbie hissed, “How dare you? I have only ever served this city and its Eternal Mother! It is you who have betrayed the city to Her enemies!”
“We know, Shelbie!” Garrett yelled, “We know about you and the spy!”
Matron Shelbie stared back at him with her face screwed up into a mask of confusion.
Suddenly, a ghoul beyond the rooftops let out a warning howl, and the others in the square turned to face the incoming danger.
Four green armored chariots pulled by barded horses rumbled into the market square from the direction of the temple. A dozen Templars jumped out as they rolled to a halt, followed by two green robed Matrons.
“Serepheni!” Garrett cried, then turned to the other, “Matron Brix!”
“Arrest these traitors at once, Brix!” Shelbie howled as she got to her feet and pointed toward Garrett and the ghouls in turn.
Brix nodded coldly toward Garrett before turning to address Matron Shelbie. “You stand accused of High Treason, Matron Shelbie,” Brix shouted, "You are summoned to appear before the High Priestess to answer for yourself."
The ghouls stared at each other in bewilderment then gave ground as Brix's Templars moved to surround Matron Shelbie.
Garrett looked at Matron Serepheni, but the red-haired priestess only gave him a sad look in return.
"You!" Matron Shelbie cried, pointing at Garrett, "How did you..." She looked at Serepheni, her eyes widening. "No!" she gasped, "Lies! Lies!"
"We found the gold, Shelbie," Brix said, "We found it all... the pardon too."
Shelbie stared back at Brix, a look of disgust on her face. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.
"We searched your quarters," Matron Brix sighed, "We found everything."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Brix, but I assure you, I will get to the bottom of it, and, if I find out you had a part in this, you'll go down too!" Shelbie said, then turned her attention to Serepheni again, "I'll have your skin for this, Serepheni! I'll have it nailed to the temple doors!"
Serepheni's eyes fell and then she looked away.
"Take her back to the temple," Matron Brix said.
The Templars moved in, seizing Matron Shelbie by the arms as she struggled to pull free of them.
"Unhand me!" she shouted, "I will remember this! I will remember all of you! The High Priestess will sort you out, oh yes! You will all live long enough to regret this, but no longer than that, I swear it!"
The Templars pulled her toward a waiting chariot as she writhed and twisted in their grip. She looked back over her shoulder toward Garrett as they led her away. "You will suffer for this, boy!" she screamed, "You will suffer for this!"
Suddenly, Matron Shelbie managed to wrest one of her arms free and point back, accusingly at Garrett with her finger. "I curse you, demon!" she cried, "I curse you to a thousand deaths! May the flesh rot from..."
She never finished her sentence, for, at that moment, a spinning blade, hurled from a nearby rooftop sank into the hollow of her throat, silencing her.
All eyes went to the rooftop where a man in black leather, wearing a facemask and goggles, stood with another throwing knife poised in his black-stained hand.
"The spy!" Garrett cried, pointing at the man on the roof.
A moment later, the man was gone, vanished over the peak of the roof with a dozen howling ghouls in close pursuit. Many of the Templars gave chase as well, but they had no hope of catching him.
Garrett turned to see Matron Brix and Serepheni kneeling over the crumpled body of Matron Shelbie. Garrett walked slowly to the dying Matron's side, feeling more curiosity than anything else.
"Don't touch the blade," Matron Serepheni said, waving Brix's hand away, "Look at her eyes... She's been poisoned."
Matron's Shelbie's eyelids fluttered over her unevenly dilated eyes. "What... what happened?" she rasped wetly.
"Your friend is covering his tracks, I think," Garrett said.
Serepheni looked up with sorrow in her eyes.
Matron Shelbie felt at the wound in her throat with trembling fingertips. Garrett could now see that the assassin's dagger was shaped like a winged serpent. "How did you do it?" Shelbie gasped, coughing up blood, "How did you..."
Her gaze drifted away, and her last breath escaped as a gurgling hiss.
Serepheni pulled off her headscarf and laid it across the dead Matron's face. She whispered a prayer to the goddess and bowed her head.
Brix showed no such sentimentality toward the dead woman.
"What did you find?" Garrett asked.
Brix looked up at him and sighed. "We found a chest full of Chadiri gold hidden in her room, along with a pardon signed by the High Inquisitor himself, granting her safe passage throughout the empire after the fall of Wythr."
"I don't understand how she could betray us," Serepheni said, her voice weary.
"The High Priestess would have gotten to the bottom of it," Brix sighed, "which is probably why Shelbie was killed."
"Could someone else have put those things in her room?" Serepheni asked.
"You tell me," Matron Brix said, eyeing Serepheni closely.
Serepheni let out a weary sigh and rubbed her eyes. “I’m tired, Brix,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired before.”
“Go home, Serepheni,” Matron Brix sighed, “We’ll clean up here.”
Serepheni nodded gratefully and then looked at Garrett. “I’m sorry, Garrett,” she said, “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“I know,” Garrett said, “but I’m all right, really.”
She squinted at him then. “What happened to your face?” she asked.
“Long story,” Garrett laughed, “I’ll tell you later.”
She nodded and then got to her feet again. Two of the Templars accompanied her back to her chariot and rode away as Matron Shelbie’s body was loaded into one of the remaining chariots.
“I heard about what happened at Shadetree,” Brix said as she stood up beside Garrett, “I’ll have a word with Captain Gaulve on your behalf.”
“Boneash!” Garrett cursed.
“What?” Brix asked.
“Ah, I sorta have Captain Gaulve locked up in my basement,” Garrett said, cringing at the look on Matron Brix’s face, “and he’s kinda covered in zombie bites.”
Brix stared at him with a disbelieving scowl.
“I can explain,” Garrett said, “I really can. Just give me a chance!”
Matron Brix rol
led her eyes. “Come on,” she growled, “You can explain it on the way to your house.
Garrett followed her back to her chariot, casting one last nervous glance toward the skyline as he heard the hunting howls of the ghouls fading into the distance.
Chapter Thirty
Garrett slept very late the following day and awoke sometime around noon, feeling better than he had in a long time. He lingered a while in the bath before finally toweling off and dressing in his most comfortable robe, hood, and boots and heading downstairs.
He nodded his thanks at the undead servants who were almost done scrubbing the bloodstains from the hall floor. He smiled to himself then, remembering the look on Captain Gaulve’s face when Matron Brix had let him out of the cellar storeroom. He had not been very happy to see Garrett standing beside her. Actually, now that he thought about it, Garrett had been slightly more behind her than beside her. Although the Matron had forbidden the Templars to seek any retribution against the young necromancer, the look on Snuff’s face as he cradled his bandaged hand had convinced Garrett to stay clear of Logate for the foreseeable future.
Garrett paused at the door of the kitchen as the wonderful warm smell of some strange spice washed over him. He stepped inside to see Caleb and Tom standing together in front of the oven. Tom was slowly stirring something inside a large cook pot with a long-handled wooden spoon clutched in the hand of his uninjured arm. He gave Caleb an unsure look, and the zombie thief answered with a reassuring groan. Garrett noted that the carving knife was still tucked into Caleb’s belt, but he decided not to say anything about it.
“What are you guys making?” Garrett asked as he took his seat at the table.
Caleb looked at him and moaned a greeting. He shambled over to the cupboard and pulled out a bowl and spoon. He slowly walked back over to the pot and, with some difficulty, wrested the wooden ladle from Tom’s fingers. Caleb plopped several globs of the brownish porridge into the bowl and then handed the stirring spoon back to Tom before carrying the steaming bowl over to set on the table in front of Garrett.
“Thanks,” Garrett said, dipping his spoon into the bowl with no idea of what to expect. He pulled up a heaping spoonful of what appeared to be boiled grain and chopped dates, smelling of some spice that Garrett had never smelled before. When he had blown it cool, he tasted it.
The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) Page 37
