“Yes, and he might have had you, too. His friend was pretty good at keeping me distracted. We were fortunate Alex arrived because once that Pykan wrapped his blasted snakeroot around your ankles, I was certain you were lost.”
“Snakeroot?”
“A Pykan trademark. Their powers lie with the more…sadistic vegetation in this world. Snakeroot is one of their tools, and can only be removed by magic.”
“You said they’ve been following us?” Cicero asked.
“Yes, and you’ve also had a trio of guards on your trail, though I think we got them off your scent.” Tran scratched his chin, thoughtful.
That village—the one where we tried to find a witchdoctor for Alex. Three guards had been there, waiting for us, and at the last moment an enormous, black bird flew from the trees. Had it been…Tran’s? Had he helped us then?
“But,” Tran continued, “Pykans aren’t quite as easy to divert. Grool has been keeping an eye on them. Grool was also the one that noticed our dear Daria walking away.”
Oh, no, not back to this.
“And why were you walking away?” Sonya asked.
I looked away from her, right into Alex’s penetrating gaze.
“I believe—” Tran’s warm eyes were on me “—Pykans can be quite hypnotizing when they want to be. Poor Daria found herself entrapped.”
Little Frankenstein returned, this time carrying a tray of steaming ceramic mugs.
“Ah, yes. Have you formally met our guests?” Tran eyed Grool, and Grool glared directly at me. Come to think of it, glaring might have been more polite. Grool looked like he wanted me to drop dead on the couch.
“Cicero, Alex, Daria, meet Grool. Sonya, I don’t believe introductions are necessary?”
She smiled and shook her head.
“Grool has remained a faithful and trustworthy companion for me all these years.” Tran waved Grool over to his side and whispered something in his ear. Grool slammed the tray down with a loud clank, and stalked out of the room with his fists clenched, mumbling and grumbling all the way.
“Forgive him,” Tran whispered. “Brownies are quite territorial and don’t understand the concept of manners.”
So Little Frankenstein was a brownie? My list of “things that shouldn’t exist, but really do” was growing so long I was going to have to start organizing it into subcategories. I could see it now, “Brownie” written right above “Deadly Slinky”, “Pixie”, and “Barghest” under a heading entitled “Things That Want Me Dead.” Actually, I didn’t think there were any other categories.
I heard a quick patter and Grool reappeared. He marched straight to his tray, yanked it from the floor, and practically threw all the mugs in our faces. Well, except mine. He dropped that one at my feet, letting the contents spill all over the floor, and he stormed back out of the room. Tran frowned after the little fiend.
“Tran,” Cicero said. “Do you hear much of the realm in these parts?”
“Not the kind you seek. I hear the usual: pixies fighting for flowers’ rights, the conscia trees boycotting fruit production. You know—” Tran held his hand to his mouth as though he were telling me a secret “—conscia fruit are Lord Commodus’ absolute favorite. They’re vengeful creatures, those conscia trees, and their memory is quite astounding. Still angry at Lord Commodus’ great-great-great grandfather for cutting one down centuries ago. Bah.” He waved his hand at the air like he was slapping it. “They’re all histrionics. If magical creatures weren’t plagued with narcissism, this world might be a peaceful place. But I digress.” He sighed and his ashy brow furrowed. ”I know what you’re asking, Aegis Cicero,” his tone turned serious. “And I have heard rumors. Ones that are very disturbing indeed.”
“About the villages outside of Orindor?” Cicero asked.
“Yes.” Tran’s mouth formed a line as he stared at the fire. “Gargons.”
“That’s what Otis said.” Alex looked at his father, every ounce of I-told-you-so written across his face.
“But that’s impossible,” Cicero said, ignoring him. “No one I know has seen anything.”
Tran stared at nothing. “Recently, I traveled to a few villages beyond the interest of King Darius—there are a good number of them, you know. Upon such a visit, I saw one myself. Wouldn’t have believed it otherwise. Burnt down half the village before I frightened it away.”
“A gargon is a dragon…right?” I asked, trying to remember what Alex had said.
Tran walked over to a low bookshelf and pulled a thick volume with a tattered leather cover and began flipping through the pages. He halted on one and gazed over it with a frown. Thus satisfied with his findings, he handed the book to me.
“A concordance of monsters. Watch out, though.” He winked. “They tend to forget they’re on paper.”
Yes, he was definitely Gandalf’s crazy twin.
I took the book from his hands. The word “Gargon” was scrolled across the top of the page. Drawn beneath was a creature that matched my idea of a dragon: narrow, dark, and muscular reptilian body with enormous bat-like wings. But the wings were…moving, flapping on the page without actually going anywhere. A tail whipped behind it, one with sharp points jutting out from the end. Fiery red eyes glowed on the paper with fury, white fangs curved over a narrow black lip. Two long slits existed where its nose should have been with steam billowing out of them, even out of the page before my eyes. Its powerful jaws opened, revealing more layers of razor sharp teeth, which, unfortunately, also decided to come out of the page. I slammed the book shut before a drawing could bite me.
Note to self: Add “Drawings” to list of “Things That Want Me Dead.”
Tran grinned. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“That’s what attacked that village?” I handed the book back to him, not wanting to peruse it further. I intended to keep my fingers.
“Without a doubt,” Tran said.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Cicero said.
Tran clasped his hands. “There are many things lately that lack sense.”
“How long have you known about the Pykans?” Sonya asked.
“Not until recently, and I believe the Council isn’t aware of them either, or at least they aren’t saying.”
“The Council is in session?” Cicero frowned.
Tran nodded.
“But Alaric’s gone.”
“Apparently, the king is being blamed for the attacks and the drought—which you were already aware. They accuse him of practicing dark magic and want him to step down from the throne until his reputation is cleared.”
“Bloody traitors!” Cicero gasped. “How dare they make such a ridiculous accusation?”
“Calm yourself. Even you can’t deny the manner of Alaric’s absence looks suspect—what with no one knowing his whereabouts. And the lords, as you know, are easily influenced.”
My dad must be higher up on the food chain than I thought.
“But that’s ridiculous,” Alex said. “Stefan is there.”
“Precisely,” Tran’s voice was low.
Alex opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. “Someone on the Council knows we’re here. The Pykans were sent after Daria as a distraction.”
Tran was silent.
“That’s absurd,” Cicero said. “Lord Commodus can verify where Alaric has been.”
“Ah, but Lord Commodus isn’t there, now is he?” Tran said. “His son Danton is acting in his place.”
“Of course.” Alex paced the room. “No one trusts Danton and Stefan is too weak to fight them on it.”
“Don’t worry too much quite yet,” Tran continued. “The lords haven’t acted, which means they aren’t entirely convinced.”
“Whoever the traitor is behind this,” Cicero continued, “he’s powerful enough to summon the barghests.”
“About that,” Tran said, with a long, bony finger poking his chin. “Would you mind filling me in on the details of your attack?”
Sonya reco
unted those horrific details; all the while Tran’s pale face grew paler and paler.
“It has to be a Guild member.” Alex stopped pacing beside the fireplace and looked back at his dad, his features sharpened by the low light. “They’re the only ones with that kind of power.”
“Not necessarily, dear boy.” Tran’s brow furrowed. “There are others—like myself—that have remained hidden all these years. But we can be certain of this: whoever is behind these attacks is giving intelligence to someone inside the castle. I’m afraid, as you were already suspicious, there are enemies within the Council.”
The more I learned about this world, the more I was afraid of it. Was there anything in this world that didn’t want me dead?
“The soldiers you mentioned,” Cicero continued. “We ran into them the first time at Rex Cross. They wore the armor of Valdon, but the backs of their necks were branded.”
Cicero had seen it too.
“I know.” Tran stared at the fire. “I do not know who or what they serve, but it worries me.”
“What is the king doing about the accusations?” Alex asked.
“King Darius is responding much as he always does. Predictably unpredictable. Silent and manipulating, which doesn’t help the case against him, I’m afraid. You know how he is. His own advice has always been his most valued asset. It is well Daria is with you, away from the people of this world, at least until you join with Alaric. Then maybe some sense can be made from all of this, hopefully before they decide on a course of action.”
I didn’t understand much about what they were saying, except for one important fact. My dad’s absence was causing problems, and this was bound to put him in more danger.
“Maybe that’s why you haven’t heard from Dad.” I interrupted the silence. “Maybe he’s in trouble.”
No one would meet my gaze. In fact, they all looked a little guilty. And my fear kept growing and growing as I became certain it was true. “You know how strong those Pykans are. It took Tran and Alex to get rid of them. And now my dad is out there alone—“
“Your father is just fine.” Sonya still wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“How do you know that?” I got to my feet. “Stefan hasn’t said a word about him, unless you’re lying to me…” I stopped before Sonya and stared pointedly at her. “Again.”
“Daria.” It was Tran. His blue eyes were thoughtful as they studied my face. “I know you really have no idea who I am, nor any particular reason to trust me. But I am certain Alaric is able to handle himself, if any in this world can make such a claim. Have faith in him, my dear. You will see him soon, or I am no sorcerer.”
I didn’t know how he did it, but each word he said was like throwing a bucket of water on a raging fire. He was the first person I’d spoken to in over a week that I knew was being completely honest with me. I believed him, and took a deep breath. “You are a sorcerer?”
He smiled. “Well, ‘was’. I am more of an entrepreneur at present.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Sonya said. “Tran Chiton is well known for being one of the most powerful mages that ever existed.”
Tran’s gaze drifted absently to the flames. “History does a fine job remembering and disregarding what it wants.”
“Why aren’t you still serving the king?” I asked.
“That, my dear, is rather complicated. Certain events transpired and I felt it my time to withdraw from society. My work these days is more easily done when people think I do not exist. Plus, Grool’s inventions keep me well entertained. I must say, in all my travels, his antidotes and sprite traps are exemplary.”
“So that’s what you have on the wall?” Cicero nodded towards the collection of metal death traps.
Tran smiled. “That is only some of them. Grool is quite the expert at catching pesky creatures. The only disagreement we have is that he likes to keep them.” Tran gestured towards the bookshelf containing all the vases. “Please be careful with them. If one breaks and releases one of those creatures, they are quite cumbersome to control.”
Grool suddenly reentered the room. His potato sack covering was soaked through, and he was carrying a mug half his size. The contents sloshed upon the floor with his jerky movements, and something sour filled the air. Grool hobbled to Tran and grumbled something into his ear.
“Thank you, Grool,” Tran said.
Grool wobbled straight to the bookshelf, meticulously inspecting each vial. He sat down, glaring at each of us in turn as he took a swig.
“What’s that smell?” I asked.
Tran stood to his feet. “Grool’s mead. It is made of rat droppings.”
“Rat droppings?”
Grool scowled at me as he took a large sip.
“There is a seed that rats eat here. Once its coat is digested in their stomach, they excrete it whole in their droppings. That partially digested seed is what they make into ale. I find the drink horrid myself, but it is a delicacy to brownies—like Grool.”
“You’ve actually tried it?” Cicero asked.
“Of course.” Tran grinned. “How else can I claim distaste? But it is late, and you have more traveling ahead. I offer you my hospitality for the remainder of the night. Grool has already taken care of the horses. They are close by and hidden, and here, I’ve got just the thing…”
He waved his hand over the sofa. The cushions began to grow. They grew longer and longer, until each were about the length of a bed. “There, that should do it.”
I didn’t think Sonya and Cicero looked nearly as startled as they should have.
Tran looked at me, then Alex. He walked over to the wall, tapping one spot about eye level, and one nearer the floor. A few wooden planks in the wall buckled, and two horizontal slats of wood moved out parallel to the floor. Bunk beds. Tran shuffled to a small cupboard, pulled out a stack of blankets, and passed them around.
He glanced between Alex and me. “My apologies if your bed is a little firm, but you haven’t earned the right to share something more comfortable.” He smiled. “Not yet, anyways. Goodnight.”
My cheeks burned hot as Tran disappeared, Grool mumbling something after him.
Cicero interrupted the silence. “Wait till we tell Alaric this one.”
“How do you know Tran?” I asked.
Cicero and Sonya looked at me.
“A long time ago.” Sonya stared off at nothing. It seemed as though her mind was sifting through memories, all of which caused her pain. “When I was a child. He recognized my ability then—to heal. And when I came to Valdon with your mother, he served King Darius.”
Wait a minute. “He knew my mom?”
Sonya’s smile was weak. “Gaia was not the same when Tran left.” She studied me a moment. I could tell she was deciding whether or not to tell me more, and I desperately wanted to hear more, but her hesitation won.
Of course. How stupid was I to think she’d actually tell me something this time.
She walked over and kissed me goodnight. She made her way to Alex, kissed his cheek, and then crawled with Cicero into their bed. When I turned around, Alex was sitting on the lower bunk, arms resting on his knees, his expression unreadable.
He glanced up at me and I knew. He knew what the Pykan had said. He’d known why I walked away. He’d known all along and didn’t say a word. It was this strange connection we seemed to share where nothing I kept deep down was hidden from him.
I wondered what else he already knew and realized this couldn’t be good. Did he know what a mess I was? Did he know how I felt when he touched me? Did he know just how angry I was and that I was going to leave if they didn’t follow through with their promise?
I searched Alex’s eyes but couldn’t find the answers. I couldn’t feel them, either. He just sat studying me as I studied him with an invisible brick wall between us. I hated that wall, and it was back with a vengeance.
Alex abruptly stood to his feet, raked a hand through his hair and climbed into his bunk. He didn’t look at me ag
ain.
The room was quiet. The Pykan’s words echoed in my head. It had known too much about my circumstances and feelings.
“Makes you wonder what else they’re not telling you,” Thad had said. And now Alex was withdrawing again, just like he had years ago. Was following the Del Contes the worst decision I could have made?
Sighing, I crawled on my hard wooden slat and shut my eyes. If Dad wasn’t at Amadis, I would leave this family—leave Alex—and find him. No matter what happened, after tomorrow, I would only trust myself.
Chapter 22
Amadis
I woke with a start, freezing. My blanket had been ripped from my body. Grool was scurrying about, tidying up the place, eager for us to leave, and I realized my blanket was draped over his scrawny arm. He fixed his black marble eyes on me, saw I was awake, and then my bed started returning to the wall. I all but fell out of it.
Guess he still hadn’t forgiven me for spitting on him.
The Del Contes were already awake, the sun starting to peek through the curtains. I made my way towards the odd looking bookshelf propped against the wall. The vases were all different: fat, narrow, tall, short. Some were filled with liquids of varying shades and viscosities, some with shimmering vapors. Little white tags were tied to each with strange scribble written on them. One vial in particular was glowing a bright orange, swirling and dispersing inside its transparent trap. Just as my finger brushed the glass surface, something flew out of nowhere, slapping me on the hand.
“Ow!” I waved my hand, my fingers stinging.
I’d been attacked by a long, narrow bone. It apparently belonged to Grool, who was also pointing a long black fingernail so close to my face I went cross-eyed.
“What was that for?” I shook my burning fingers.
“No touch!” Grool waved his bone.
“But I wasn’t going to…”
My words were cut short as Grool pushed me away from his prized bookcase and used a dirty rag to wipe the vials clean. If Tran thought Gaia would be a better world without narcissistic magical creatures, he should probably start by getting rid of Grool.
Gaia's Secret Page 24
