The Glass Mountain (Faerie Book 2)

by Jenna Grey

  “Goblins,” Connor hissed. “We’ve driven straight into a goblin raiding party.”

  Lily brushed the stinging crystals from her face, bewildered, totally numb with shock and so very afraid.

  “Mawgum?”

  Connor shook his head.

  “There’s nothing we can do for him. We have to take care of ourselves.”

  Lily didn’t believe that Connor had meant that to come out as unfeeling as it had, but Lily needed to direct her anger somewhere and he was the only target. She gave him a look of outrage, pushing him away from her as he tried to manoeuvre her further into the shelter of some packages that had somehow managed to stay in place, shielding her with his body.

  “I’m not leaving him,” Lily hissed, trying to free herself from his iron grip to scramble out of the sleigh.

  Lily could hear terrible shouts and screams coming from every direction, not screams of terror or pain this time, but the baying calls of goblins in a blood rage. They howled and hooted, banging metal against metal, in riotous joy, letting out bellows of triumph. Their laughter rang around the mountains, echoing in Lily’s ears and making her even more determined to make them pay.

  “Do you think we have a choice?” Connor asked, grabbing the tops of her arms and shaking her.

  Lily just glared at him, and throwing up a glamour to hide her from sight, she stepped out of the shelter of the sledge, casting just one condemnatory look over her shoulder at Connor as she did so. Connor gave a sigh and threw up his own glamour, rushing out after her. Lily wasn’t even certain if their shields would work against goblins, but she had to do something, anything and it was all she could think of.

  The scene that confronted her was worse than she could ever have imagined. They were surrounded by goblins, great lumbering brutes, dressed in a hotchpotch of battle gear, most of which had obviously been stolen from their victims and most of which was impossibly ill-fitting. They all wielded weapons, great maces with spikes the length of a man’s forearm, clubs and machetes, and all of them were covered in blood, some fresh and some dried to almost black on their sallow skinned bodies. Gertrude was still harnessed to the broken shaft and was rearing and screaming, terrified by the sudden cacophony of sound and lurching up onto her hind quarters.

  Lily was frozen for a moment, unable to take it all in. Mawgum was lying dead in the snow, his stomach split open from side to side and his intestines spilling out across the icy waste, like party streamers. He was lying in a great circle of red, and Lily felt her legs weaken as the stench of fresh blood, raw meat and excrement hit her. She tottered and Connor caught her.

  “I knew he was dead, Lily,” Connor said, “I know the sound of a death scream when I hear it.”

  “Well, good for you,” Lily snapped, glaring at him.

  “We need to get out of here,” he said, grabbing her hand to pull her away.

  Lily’s glare turned into something terrible to behold.

  “No, we need to start living up to our responsibilities,” she hissed back.

  The goblins were all still gloating over their ‘victory’, dancing around and tearing open the packages to see what spoils they had found. One of the larger goblins pulled open a wooden crate, yanking off the nailed lid as if it were tissue paper, and rummaging inside to see what booty he’d discovered. It was a red hat, definitely intended for a female because of all the frippery on it. He put it on his too-large head, the hat merely sitting on top of it like a cherry on a teacake. He began to laugh and cavort around Mawgum’s body, his bare feet paddling in the bloody snow, and trampling it to a muddy pink slush. Lily felt a terrible rage boiling up inside her as she watched the disgusting creature gloating over the butchery of an innocent and decent hobgoblin that had saved her and Connor’s life. They owed him a debt.

  “You’re right,” Connor said. “We can’t let them get away with this.”

  And with that he stepped out and dropped his glamour. That hadn’t been quite what Lily had in mind, but she did the same, and they both stood in full view of the six cavorting goblins.

  The goblins turned to look at the two fey that had suddenly appeared from nowhere, almost as one, their eyes wide. Connor lifted his arm, and called down his darkest magic. The fey could access both light and dark magic, but the dark kind always required a sacrifice of some kind. Whatever they called for now, both she and Connor would gladly pay. Lily saw one of the goblins reaching for his crossbow and Lily called on her own magic, erecting a magical barrier between them and the goblins. She had no real idea what she was doing, this was magic that she’d never tried before and she was literally just casting the spell and praying that it worked. She called on Hecate to guide her and felt the arcane power flowing into her, like water pouring from a clear mountain stream. The air in front of her seemed to shimmer into life, taking shape and form before her eyes and becoming solid in a single heartbeat. She blinked at the shield she had erected, hardly believing that she had done it. It actually looked like a real shield, glimmering semi-solid in the harsh sunlight and when the cross bow bolt hit it, it ricocheted off with impressive violence to bury itself in one of the goblin’s ears. The creature yelled in pain, hopping up and down on the spot and trying to pull the bolt out of his head, cursing the goblin that had fired the shot and lashing out at him with his spiked mace.

  The goblins were all startled into chaos, and Lily panicked as they turn to charge. They had gone no more than a few steps, when they halted in their tracks. And Lily stopped as well, rooted to the spot by the terrible feeling that suddenly overwhelmed her. She felt her breath cramping in her lungs, her head spinning from lack of oxygen. She dropped to her knees, gasping and trying to pull in air that just wouldn’t come.

  From over head there came a great shadow; for a moment, Lily thought it was a giant bird, the mythical Roc, or an eagle, but when she looked up, she gave a startled squeak of terror. What hovered above them was no bird. What it was she had no idea, but whatever it was it must have come from the lowest reaches of hell. The air around her suddenly seemed to grow thick and she was finding it impossible to breathe, as if all of the air was being sucked out of the world. A great patch of darkness surrounded the creature, and for a moment she thought it was one of the Djinn, taking on a form she hadn’t seen before, but she knew, somehow, that this was no Djinn. It had come from an even darker place than the world of the Djinn.

  “I can’t breathe,” Lily gasped. The world around her seem to be caving in on itself, the shapes around her distorting; it looked to her as if everything was melting, an illusion, obviously, but one that totally disoriented her.

  Connor was doubled over as well, but he still raised his hand and wove his magic. Around them a pure crystal bubble formed, almost transparent in its rainbow clarity. Lily could suddenly breathe again and the world righted itself.

  The creature above them swooped downwards towards the gaggle of goblins, giving a fierce shriek as its hooked beak tore into the first largest of them. The goblin’s head disappeared into the creature’s mouth, the beak driving into the goblin’s chest and piercing the top of its rib cage. The creature grasped the goblin’s body with two short, but powerful looking forearms and clamping down with its jaws, shook its head. With one savage twist it ripped the goblin’s head from its body, letting the corpse drop and spitting the goblin’s head out to plop down on top of its former owner. The other goblins scattered in alarm, trying to get away from the fearful apparition that beat the air above them, shrieking and diving at them again and again.

  She could see the creature more closely now. It was almost indescribable in its absurdity. It was a black armoured crustacean, with vast wings, almost the size of a light aircraft. Its forearms, which were ill formed and small in comparison to its body were very much like the forearms of a raptor, designed to hold prey, while the other limbs inflicted the fatal wounds, or simply held the meat while it ate. Below the forearms were another set of limbs with pincers that looked far too large to be suppor
ted by the thin limbs; its sturdy hind legs more like a T Rex, ending in vicious talons. Above it the huge bat-like wings stretched out, casting a giant shadow over all of them.

  “What the hell is that?” Lily asked.

  “It’s called a Syffed. It comes from the darkest regions of the Netherworld,” Connor said.

  Lily watched, transfixed, safe inside her rainbow bubble, as the Syffed closed the claws of its stubby forearms around the largest goblin’s head, and with impossible speed used the razor sharp pincers to slice open across the goblin’s belly, from one side of his back bone to the other, all but cutting him in half. All that held the two halves of his body together was that one slender slither of spine. The goblin’s intestines spilled out onto the snow; the impossible length of pink snakes dropping in great coiled loops that wrapped around the goblin’s feet. The Syffed let his victim fall and the goblin fell face first into his own entrails, then the hovering creature moved onto his next victim. The other goblins scattered to try and run, but the black winged monster overhead was so fast that his movements almost became a blur. One of the two remaining goblins was cloaked in a great black darkness, completely engulfing him. Lily could hear his frantic gasps, and wheezes coming from within the inky cloud.

  “The Syffed can suffocate their prey,” Connor said.

  Lily, white faced and trembling said:

  “You mean the claws and razor sharp pincers aren’t enough?”

  Connor turned his attention to the sole survivor of the raiding party and raised his hand, calling his magic. A great ball of black light appeared in his palm and he aimed it at the fleeing goblin. The light left Connor’s hand, hurtling towards the goblin and hitting him squarely in the back. The force of it catapaulted the goblin forwards, sending him flying through the air, and smashing him face first into the drift of snow. When Lily looked closer she could see the black plumes of smoke rising from the creature’s back, she risked moving nearer, stepping out of her protective bubble, trusting that the Syffed knew friend from foe. As she got nearer she could see the great black hole that went right through the goblin from one side to the other. The Syffed had dropped his victim now, seemingly bored now that it had stopped struggling. The goblin lay face first in the snow as dead as he was ever going to be, his limbs twisted into strange shapes, where every limb had been broken. His head had been turned around a hundred and eighty degrees.

  Time seemed to suspend itself for a moment as Lily stared, wide-eyed at the tableau before her. It was a scene so terrible that it branded itself on her memory and she knew she would never forget it for as long as she lived.

  She watched transfixed as the Syffed rose up into the air, hovering for just a few seconds, then literally just blinked out of sight, leaving behind only a bloody heap of corpses to show that it had ever been there.

  Lily looked across at Mawgum, and let out a little sob. She felt Connor’s arm’s slip around her and she pressed against him, burying her face in his shoulder.

  “Poor Mawgum… and Sauergum… she’s going to be devastated.”

  “I know, but we have to keep going.” Connor said, gently easing her away. “We still have Gertrude. We can take Mawgum’s body down with us to Tunneltown and get him a decent funeral. Someone can send a message to Sauergum.”

  Lily suddenly retched as the smell of blood and raw meat drifted through the icy air to her. The bodies were already growing cold, and soon would be nothing more than unidentifiable mounds in the snow. She fought back the bile that threatened to choke her and forced herself to shut it from her mind. She had to remember who was ultimately responsible for this. And Ahriman was going to pay.

  “If there are bands of goblins roaming the countryside, laying waste to anything they come across, then we need to get to Tunneltown and then onto the Citadel to warn people as fast as we can,” Connor said.

  “What can they do against them? We’ve got magic, but most of the feyfolk that live in the area are simple souls that don’t have any way to protect themselves. They’re farmers, fishermen, traders and miners, not soldiers,” Lily protested.

  “They’ll stand more chance if they’re warned.”

  They moved cautiously towards Gertrude, trying to quieten her, but she was mad with fear. Connor reached out with his mind to the terrified creature, trying to calm it; Lily did the same, letting her thoughts join with Connor’s, whispering gentle words of reassurance to it. It was trembling, bucking and rearing, more from fear of the Syffed than the goblins; its eyes were wild, foam around its muzzle. Lily tentatively stretched out her hand and patted the creature’s bloody flank. Mawgum’s blood. She wiped it away on the animal’s fur, disgusted. Gertrude had calmed a little, but was still snorting and stamping her huge feet, but no longer frantic.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe now, we won’t let anyone hurt you,” Lily whispered.

  Connor had retrieved a large tarpaulin from the sleigh, and threw it down beside Mawgum’s mutilated corpse. Lily couldn’t bear to look at it, but she forced herself to throw a fur over his body so that she didn’t have to see that terrible wound.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of getting the sleigh back together again, is there?” she asked.

  Connor gave it a perfunctory glance and shook his head.

  “Gertrude will be able to carry the two of us and I’ll use one of the sleigh’s runners to make a sledge to pull Mawgum’s body. You’ll need to help me get him onto the tarpaulin.”

  Lily didn’t relish the prospect much, but she knew she had to steel herself to do this. She’d proved herself to be pretty useless at practically everything since she’d come through to this world, nearly got Connor killed, and generally been a complete waste of space. It was about time she proved that she could at least do something right.

  “We can’t leave...” Lily couldn’t finish the sentence. She was going to say ‘we can’t leave half his insides behind,” but the words stuck in her throat.

  “I know, dear heart. We won’t.”

  Connor stripped off his tunic and gave that, and his cloak, to Lily to hold, while he collected up Mawgum’s entrails and put them back inside his body. His arms were covered in blood to the elbow by the time he’d finished, making it look as if he was wearing red gloves. Connor tied a long bolt of cloth around Mawgum’s body, as a make shift bandage to hold everything in place, figure eighting it over his shoulders and between his legs to stop the two halves of Mawgum’s body shifting as they moved him. The yellow cloth was covered in huge red blossoms of blood, but it did the job. Lily and Connor grabbed one each of Mawgum’s legs and dragged him onto the tarpaulin, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

  Connor was shivering violently now, and covered in blood, his arms scarlet. Even when he had wiped them clean, they were still stained pink, and he rubbed snow on them to try and get rid of the last of it. He drew his tunic and outer garments back on, his face almost green and putty-like, his eyes glassy. He had used up far too much energy calling that dark creature from whatever hell it called home,

  “I know this is hard,” Lily said, “but we have to keep going. At least he died quickly and he’s going on to the next life with enough credits to get him a place of honour in Valhalla.”

  Connor gave a desperately sad smile and nodded, trying to answer her but unable to force words out.

  They found a length of rope amidst the strewn cargo to bind the make shift shroud around the hobgoblin, transforming him into a macabre parcel. Then Connor managed to pull off one of the sleigh’s runners and fastened Mawgum’s body onto it, attaching the rope to Gertrude’s harness.

  “If we’re careful this should be sturdy enough to get us there, wrap some of the fur around yourself to keep you warm, dearest. It’s getting dark and I’m not sure that we’ll get to Tunneltown by nightfall. We might have to spend the night out in the open. We can use Gertrude as a windbreak.”

  Lily found a large white fur that stank to high heaven, but which was big enough to cover most of he
r and Connor when they pulled it around their shoulders. They climbed up onto Gertrude’s shaggy back, Lily in front, with Connor pressed close behind. She felt the reassuring warmth of Connor’s body pressed against her back and at least some of the misery slipped away.

  Connor urged Gertrude forward and they begin the long trek down the mountainside disheartened and sorrowful.

  Chapter Eleven.

  They had been walking for perhaps half an hour or so, and Lily had begun to half doze, warm under the white fur, with Connor’s arms around her and his warmth at her back. She was startled awake as Gertrude suddenly bucked and reared, almost throwing them off. Lily instantly realised why. She could smell fresh blood in the air, mingled with the odour of burning flesh and wood.

  “No!” Lily screamed. Connor urged Gertrude on faster, despite her protests. She tried her hardest to resist, but finally gave in and took them towards the billows of white smoke on the horizon.

  “Whatever has happened, happened a while ago,” Connor said. “The smoke’s white. It means that the fires have died out. It’s safe for us to go down.”

  Gertrude, still protesting, took them down to the devastation, for devastation it surely was. It looked as if it had once been a small village, a trading post perhaps, a way station between the Citadel and some of the further outposts. There was nothing left of it. Almost all of the buildings had been burnt to the ground, bodies littered the snow, most of them now covered in a fine film of white where the fresh snow had settled on them. They reminded Lily of the lava covered figures she had seen from the ancient city of Pompeii. Worse, there were children, small forms buried in a shroud of white. An icy tomb for such peaceful folk.

  Lily sank to her knees in the snow, too bereft to even weep. Connor just stood over her, staring at the scene around him, shocked and uncomprehending. They walked over to one small form, and saw that they were hobgoblins, harmless creatures who would never hurt anyone. They were simple traders, hunting and living off the land as best they could, selling gold and animal pelts or working down in Tunneltown.