by Lee Roland
Flor endured the mauling and gently smiling, lifted one hand to brush his lips with her fingers. Maeve watched the barely perceptible stiffening of his body, and she glanced at Scar-Face. What would he do when his companion fell?
Black wings flashed across the clearing. Orcus. The bird’sicious talons nailed Scar-Face’s eyes.
Maeve threw herself to the ground, hoping against a trigger-finger spasm.
It didn’t happen. The instant Orcus hit, he morphed into two hundred-pounds of black jaguar. Powerful hind-leg claws disemboweled Scar-Face and front leg claws tore his arms off at the elbow. The gun dropped from nerveless fingers. He was probably dead before Orcus tore out his throat and crunched his spine like Harriet crunched popcorn.
Maeve lay there in stunned silence as the jaguar bit through and removed Scar-Face’s head. Orcus left the bloody mass of meat. His golden eyes focused on her. With the heavy grace of a big cat, he tracked red across the leaves and came to stand over her. Blood dripped from his mouth.
“Mamauia,” Flor called. “Brother, remember your oath.”
Maeve swallowed. Flor didn’t sound alarmed, but Orcus’ amber eyes gazed into Maeve’s without any apparent recognition. Should she say speak? Or would that be worse?
“Orcus, tell me, does Harriet know? I mean, you’re kind of out of the closet now.”
Right on cue, Harriet crash-landed on Maeve’s stomach. She gasped as the harpy knocked the wind out of her.
Harriet shook herself and ruffed her feathers. She stared at Orcus for a long moment. “Eweee-uu. Nasty,” she trilled. “Change back. Now!”
And he did.
Flor walked over to them and crouched down. She picked up a few leaves and wiped the blood from the raven’s beak and neck feathers. “That was well done,” she said to him.
Harriet hopped off Maeve and went to Orcus. She cooed and rubbed herself against him. Red stained her cream-colored feathers, and it didn’t seem to bother her at all.
Maeve rolled over and climbed to her feet. She gagged once when she glanced at the bloody gutted mass that had been a scar-faced murderer. The Brad look-a-like had collapsed and lay staring at the trees.
“What did you use,” Maeve asked Flor.
“Oh, a little potion Immal taught me to make. The ingredients include my own blood, so I’m immune to it. Makes it easier to use.” She frowned. “Immal wasn’t always…nice. Are you ready?”
“Yeah. Flor, what are you…”
“I’ll explain later.” Flor stood, obviously ready to move on.
And that was that. Maeve had chosen to accept Flor without questions, and now she’d have to accept what came. Magic was magic, and it allowed itself to be shaped into any form its user had enough skill to create. Apparently there were a multitude of weird forms out there.
Maeve kept her silence while they made their way closer to the factory. Orcus and Harriet flew ahead of them. There were still no external guards.
The loading docks seemed to be the best entry point. Not that Maeve knew where to go once they were inside. She’d been so upset when she left she hadn’t paid much attention to the finer points of direction. There was no way to tell if the doors were locked either. What would Erik do if he caught them this time? Could she force him to decide, or would she have to kill him…try to kill him? Maeve felt for the .38 at her back, to reassure herself. Then she had to reassure herself she could actually kill someone.
Orcus returned to sit on Flor’s shoulder, and Harriet settled on Maeve. They slipped between the trucks and up on the platform. They found the first door locked, but the second opened, and they rushed in the building—and came face to face with Captain Harlan.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Harlan gasped once only before Flor had him pinned to the wall with the obsidian knife at his throat. The little witch was stronger and moved faster than Maeve could have believed.
“No,” Maeve cried.
Flor stopped. A think line of blood trickled down Harlan’s throat. He grasped Flor’s wrist with both hands, but he couldn’t move her. He was twice her size, and he couldn’t move her!
“Don’t kill him, Flor,” she said softly. “Let him go. Please.”
Flor glared at her captive for a moment, then released him and stepped back. She kept the knife poised and ready, though.
“Be quiet and don’t move, Captain,” Maeve said. “There’s a bit more to Raymond’s sweetie than she’s let on. She’s a bit on edge right now.”
Flor’s eyes never left Harlan, but she smiled.
Maeve stepped closer. She’d known Harlan was different from his vicious troops the first day in Elder. When she’d called him a coward, he simply drove away. He’d done well dealing with the Iameth, though. But whose side was he on? He was, after all, Claire’s lover. Could she trust him?
Maeve stepped closer to him. “We’ve come for our friend, our dragon. Will you show us where he is? Better yet, will you help us rescue him?”
He held one hand to his throat. “I’ve been waiting for you. Claire said you’d come for him. She asked me to help you.” He lowered his hand and wiped his fingers on the black uniform.
“Claire?” Maeve’s breath caught on the word. Of course, Claire would know she would come for Raymond.
Harlan shrugged. “Sethos ordered the troops to go get the dragon. He gave them a powerful spell to neutralize Tana and take the dragon down so he couldn’t change shape. Claire didn’t know until it was too late.”
Maeve heard a growl and thought Orcus had changed to a jaguar again. Then she realized it was Flor, who was advancing on Harlan.
“Flor, please,” Maeve begged her.
Flor stopped.
Maeve blew out a relieved breath. Setho had magic powerful enough to hold Tana and keep a dragon from changing shape? How did he get it without Claire? And why would she try to stop it anyway? She’s the one who brought the monster to take over Elder. “Okay, Harlan. For now. Where is he?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to search.” Harlan pointed toward the door. “It’s a big empty place.”
“Where’s Erik?”
“I don’t know.”
Maeve studied him. A trap? Probably. She knew what might be waiting, and there were no choices.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Flor?”
Flor’s adeptness with poison and knife…everything about Flor surprised Maeve, including her easy step into the role of an expert warrior.
“If anything happens, he’ll die first,” Flor promised.
Harlan ignored Flor. “If anything happens it means Claire is…”
Is what? Fear slammed through Maeve. “She’s in danger?”
He gave Maeve a grim smile. “Claire is in danger. We’re all in danger.”
Why should Maeve care? Just because Claire was her mother?
Harlan led the way, and they followed.
Maeve soon became lost in the maze.
“How do you find your way in here,” she demanded.
“There’s a system. See the marks on the corners.” Harlan pointed out faint lines and numbers on the wall at each junction. He led them down a corridor, and then stopped at a closed door. “We have to be careful. There are troops in the factory now—not many, but he never allowed them in before. They’ve been given enough drugs to make them almost nasâum, but not quite. They’re still moderately—alert. Moderately human. They can take orders, carry out tasks. Nasâum is—”
“I know what it is.”
Harlan stepped back.
Maeve pressed her hand against her stomach. She forced the memory of the domino-stacked army of ghouls and Joe Don’s face out of her mind.
Harlan seemed to know what she was thinking. “Some of the troops were brutes and deserved it, but others weren’t that bad. I managed to save a few of the younger ones.”
“Alex?” Maeve desperately wanted the young man saved.
He nodded. “He’s okay for now. I told him to leave the building. I hope he
did.”
“You weren’t drugged. Who, or what, saved you?”
“At first, he needed my military experience. Ten years in the Marines and another five in Asia as a mercenary. Then I met Claire. I don’t why she’s with him. She’s never really explained. I know she hates him. She asked me to trust her, and I do.” His voice held a mix of horror and suppressed rage.
Harlan flipped the bars from the door and slowly pushed it open. Another room, large, filled with humming machinery. They were halfway across when the door on the other side opened.
Erik walked in. His eyes widened at the group, but he stood motionless.
“Where’s my dragon?” Maeve didn’t have time to argue.
“The room’s guarded.” Erik scrutinized Maeve’s crew.
Maeve would’t accept that. “Then we’ll have to do it the easy way, won’t we.”
Erik nodded. His mouth twisted. “I suppose we will.”
We. He’d joined them, this two-edged knife. Something had changed since she’d last seen him. She could see it in his eyes. He’d made plans. Made decisions.
Maeve remembered her promise. Anything he wanted that she could give him. That would teach her to keep her mouth shut. “Let’s go get Raymond.” She thought Flor would protest at Erik’s presence, but she didn’t.
He led them back the way they came, then down one floor. The dim corridor carried the acrid odor of disinfectant. He carefully opened a door a fraction of an inch, peeked in, then motioned for them to wait. He drew a knife from his boot.
Harlan didn’t appear to be armed, but he seemed ready to fight. “Five of them. We’ll try to send them away,” Erik said. “If they won’t go…” He regarded Harlan.
Harlan gave a slight shrug. Orcus jumped from Flor’s shoulder to Erik’s. Erik flinched but didn’t try to move him.
Erik and Harlan entered the room first. One or two sharp words, then the sounds of scuffling, and finally silence. It was all too easy, and nothing made sense. Erik wanted to kill Sethos—or so he said. Harlan wanted Claire, and Claire sent him to help Maeve—or so he said.
Harlan opened the door, his face pale and hands shaking. When Maeve entered the room, she saw why. Orcus had taken jaguar form again and was munching on one of the dead guards. Another showed signs of being gutted. Only three had knife wounds. Harlan laid his hand on the wall like he needed it to remain standing. “I’ve fought…I thought I was past surprises,” he said softly.
Maeve turned away from the carnage. “Harlan, I’ve lived in Elder almost all my life and every day, something surprises me.” She fought not to gag at the stink of violent death. The residents of Elder were violent at times. She’d seen bloody fights, full of rage. Cold blooded killing…and those men killed merely stood in their way, but would certainly have slaughtered all of them if ordered.
The room contained more video screens, and Erik sat at a computer punching keys. If Orcus, sitting close by licking blood from his paws bothered him, it didn’t show.
The screens flashed from one place to another, and then one camera found Raymond. He lay in the middle of a large room, wrapped in chains. They wouldn’t hold him if he could change shape, but the spell that allowed his capture had prevented that. He struggled occasionally, but other than that, didn’t seem aware of his surroundings. More ominous was the number of guards with automatic weapons surrounding him.
“They’re expecting us, aren’t they?” Maeve asked Erik.
“Yes. Taking the dragon would bring you, but I don’t think anyone expected you here so soon. Claire told him you would rally the witches and dragons first, then attack, not come alone.” He glanced at Orcus. “I guess you’re not alone, are you?”
Maeve shook her head.
“Erik, there are ten dragons in Elder. Doesn’t Sethos know that? If I didn’t come, they would.”
“Dragons are tough, not invulnerable. Mortars and light artillery would thin them out, and the nasâum are expendable. He’s ready. Mortars and light artillery are available. And this warehouse is full of it”
A spasm of bitter despair ran through Maeve. She closed her eyes and fought tears.
Erik glared at Harlan. “Claire hates him more than any of us, but she stays with him. She does what he asks her to do. And Harlan here is Claire’s, one hundred percent. He’ll follow her instructions or die.”
“And what are your instructions, Harlan?” Maeve desperately needed that question answered.
Harlan shrugged. He didn’t look happy. “I told you, she said I was to help you.”
Maeve kicked the floor. This was getting ridiculous. “Is there anything else either of you want to tell me before we get started?”
“I have a message for you,” Harlan said. “Claire said, no matter what you believe, she loves you.”
“Sure, she does. And harpies can swim.” Maeve’s heart leapt for joy and dived in agony in one massive roller coaster ride. She allowed emotion to rule for a few moments, then put it aside. They were running out of time. She went back to the screen showing Raymond. “What if Flor freezes the guards, like on the bridge.”
Erik shook his head. “Too much magic, foreign magic at that. He’ll feel it. All of us together can’t stand against him. And if I order the guards out, one will probably contact him. I’m sure he’s thought of that. Then he’ll fill every room of this place with armed men. Or worse.”
There didn’t seem to be much of a chance, but no matter the outcome, they had to try. Love demanded it, and she wouldn’t die knowing she hadn’t done her best to save Raymond.
“What’s the rest of the room like?”
Erik rotated the cameras. The room appeared to be a hundred and fifty feet square. Maeve studied the screens. “How many doors are there, how high is the ceiling? Any windows or vents?”
He switched on two more cameras. Two doors, no windows, the ceiling was high, but with several vents.
Good thing Maeve went to the movies and watched TV occasionally. “Erik, a ruler of the world wanna-be should have a stockpile of gas somewhere. Gas doesn’t affect a dragon. If we can make them sick or put them to sleep…”
At first Erik looked surprised, and then he smiled. “Well, it won’t put them to sleep.”
Maeve shuddered. She decided for the first time in her life, she’d break a promise. Anything he wanted was much too much to offer a psychopath in return for his help.
Thirty minutes later, they were ready. Erik handed a large canister to Harlan. He offered no instruction on how to use it. The label on the canister told Maeve that when the soldiers went to sleep, they wouldn’t wake up. They were killers, yes, but so were Erik and possibly Harlan, the former mercernary soldier. Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth tightened.
It should have disturbed her more that they prepared to kill so many men. It did, but it had to be done. Andovar, the missing unicorns, even the demons were her spiritual kin. They were Elder’s heart and soul. Men with guns, men willing to slaughter her family were not objects of sympathy to her. She could tell from the look on Flor’s face that she felt the same.
The plan was for Harlan and Flor to cover one door, Maeve and Erik the other. Erik would use the computer to shut down the main air circulation. They would toss the canisters in, block the doors, and then wait for the circulation vents to clear the air.
“How long will it take? Will any gas come out here?” Maeve asked.
“No. The air system and all the rooms are tight because of the hazardous chemicals stored here. I set the computer to open the vents after fifteen minutes. The air doesn’t re-circulate and the exhaust fans could lift a truck if I turn them on high. Another fifteen minutes and the room should be clear.”
“That’s fast.”
“Yes. It’s a SETH special, designed to clear buildings without property damage. No odor. They’ll go down fast.” Erik chuckled, and Maeve stifled the urge to draw the .38 and shoot him.
“The walls are thick enough to stop bullets if they start shooting when
they can’t get out,” he continued. “It was built to hold a dragon.”
Maeve didn’t tell him dragons were capable of producing fire hot enough to melt plate steel. Of course, Raymond didn’t have fire yet.
“Can you get the chains off him?”
Erik pulled a small metal gadget out of his pocket and held it up.
Harlan and Erik synchronized watches and set off in different directions. Flor and Harriet went with Harlan, and Maeve and Orcus stayed with Erik. With disaster in mind, Maeve tried to work through the plan. They were missing something. The feeling tickled and stirred in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t define it.
“Erik,” Maeve said, “What’s in all these rooms?”
“It’s a maze, a defense. The laboratory, the mixing vats and the…” He eyeballed the pistol in her hand.
The slaughterhouse. Maeve knew that.
She needed Erik now, but that he’d served Sethos for so many years left a sour taste—not to mention his brutal treatment of her. He was a killer. He believed the seer who told Sethos Maeve would destroy him, and he wanted to be on the winning side.
When the time came, Erik opened the door and tossed his canister into the room. Maeve heard a high-pitched hiss and whine, then the frantic thud of boots on the floor as he slammed and barred the thick steel door. If any sound came after that, the walls held it inside, just as they held the deadly gas.
Harlan and Flor returned, and they waited in silence.
After thirty minutes, Erik reached to unlock and open the door.
“Are you sure all the gas is gone?” Maeve had less faith in his computer air system than he did.
Erik laughed softly and shrugged. “I’ll go first. Hold your breath. If I fall over, you run.” He jerked the steel door open and walked in.
Maeve muttered a curse and followed. She scanned the room. She expected bodies to block the door as the troops rushed to them, desperate to escape. Instead, they were all sprawled on one side of the room. Maeve watched them, discomfort twirling in her stomach.
Flor raced to Raymond. He seemed groggy, but he recognized her and reached out his arms. Still under the influence of the poison used to keep him in human form, they would probably have to carry him out of the building.
