by Jim C. Hines
“Not dead. But good enough.” Blue kicked one of the redcaps in the rump, then dragged Tipple along. “Hurry. Not far now.”
Blue was good to his word. A short distance ahead, the tunnel opened into a broad cavern with a pond at its centre. Yog’s hut stood on stilted legs in the water, a stone’s throw from the edge. The location made sense. Redcaps distrusted water. If through some miracle they found the courage to fight back against Yog, the pond would keep them at a distance.
“It’s been a long time since I laid eyes on that monstrosity of a home,” said Kas.
A narrow beam of sunlight pierced a crack in the cavern high overhead. Water trickled through one edge of the crack. The drops hitting the lake created a never-ending series of expanding rings on the surface.
“There must be at least fifty redcaps down there,” whispered Winter.
The redcaps had created a … Rook couldn’t dignify it with the word “town.” A primitive camp, perhaps. Scattered piles of dirt, rocks, and rags seemed to serve as beds. They looked like nests created by oversized, clumsy birds with very low standards. Bones were scattered everywhere, and the smell of old meat and redcap waste made his nose wrinkle.
One redcap squealed as the ogre, Headstrong, grabbed him by the neck and dragged him to a shallow indentation in the dirt on the far side of the lake. A wooden bucket sat in the middle of the depression. Other redcap bodies were piled to one side. Headstrong killed the redcap with a knife, then held the body over the bucket to collect the blood.
Rook turned to look at Blue. The redcap rocked in place, the muscles in his jaw twitching. Only minutes before, he had ordered Tipple to kill two of his own people, but now tears spilled down his cheeks.
“Why don’t the others do anything?” Winter asked.
“Because it would take at least twenty of them to overpower that ogre,” said Sterling. “Not to mention whatever death Yog can hurl at them from her hut.”
“Anyone see the nymph?” Rook asked.
The others shook their heads.
“Skye hates caves,” said Blue. “Smoke gets too thick. No way to fly away.”
“Are we sure Yog’s in the hut?” asked Tipple.
Winter shrugged. “Where else would she be?”
“It’s where she feels safest,” added Kas.
Blue rocked from side to side. “Spring the trap while Yog takes nap!”
Rook didn’t like it. There were too many unknowns. Too many ways the whole plan could turn to shite.
“Let’s hurry up and do this,” said Tipple. “If we wait here much longer, I’m going to need to duck away to take a piss.”
Rook took a second length of rope and began binding Tipple’s wrists. “Trick knot. Tug this end and the whole thing comes loose.”
“Got it.” Tipple lifted his wrists and sighed. “How drunk was I when I agreed to this?”
Rook handed a small knife to Blue. If they expected anyone to believe a redcap had captured a human twice his size, that redcap had to be armed. Rook also made a show of checking his crossbow for Blue’s benefit. For once, Blue didn’t respond with laughter. He simply nodded, acknowledging the threat, then looked out to where Headstrong was tossing another body onto the pile.
“Thank you, my friends.” Kas stared at Yog’s hut. “You’ve proven yourselves true Heroes of Albion.”
“As have you. After our victory, we will find a way to restore you to your proper form, and we shall all celebrate together.”
Kas hunched lower in Tipple’s pocket. “Good thing stone has no sense of smell,” he muttered. “All right, you lug. All you have to do is stumble into the water and fall down long enough for me to get out. I don’t need to breathe, so I’ll just walk along the bottom and climb into Yog’s hut. Once I’m there, I should be able to find her life and destroy it. Then all you’ll need to do is kill her mortal body. Wait for my signal, then the rest of you do whatever it takes to bring her down.”
“What signal?” asked Winter.
“I figured I’d take command of her hut and try to kick the ogre in the head.” Kas chuckled. “I haven’t tried to control that monstrosity in ages, but I imagine it will come back to me.”
With that, Kas vanished into the bottom of Tipple’s pocket. Blue tugged the ropes, hauling Tipple into the open.
For his part, Tipple looked to be having far too much fun playing up his role. The instant they emerged from the tunnel, he started yelling, “Yog! Where are you, Yog? I got … I’ve got somethin’ to say to you!”
He slurred his words, staggered from side to side, and paused once to let out a belch that echoed through the cavern. He then proceeded to curse Blue, Blue’s mother, his brothers and sisters, any children he might have, and his pets. He started to describe exactly what he intended to do to Blue, to Yog, and to everyone else in this “chamber pot of a cave,” only to stop in mid rant so he could double over and dry heave like he was trying to hack up his own innards.
Other redcaps swarmed towards them. Blue yanked out his knife and waved it wildly. “Mine! My drunk human!”
A withered crone emerged from the hut and watched from the doorstep, water lapping at her toes. The woman looked like she’d shatter in a stiff breeze, but judging someone by looks alone was a good way to end up dead.
“So much for her nap,” Rook said tightly.
“There you are, you clay-headed, misbegotten, greasy-haired ass-canker!” Tipple roared, and started towards the water, dragging Blue along behind him, to the obvious amusement of the watching redcaps. “I had compart—copatriots—I had friends in Grayrock, witch!”
“He’s overdoing it,” Sterling muttered.
Yog examined Tipple from her cabin. A tangle of grey hair had escaped the red bandanna around her scalp and fallen into her face like a shrivelled tentacle. Overlong fingers stroked the skull that topped her bone cane. She looked like an old woman scratching her favourite cat.
Several redcaps threw small rocks and other debris at Tipple. A cold glare from Yog made them scamper back.
Tipple appeared to trip over his own feet. He went down with an enormous splash at the edge of the pool. Sputtering and cursing, he tried to push himself up, only to slip a second time. Rook couldn’t tell if that one had been intentional or not, but it should be enough for Kas to slip free.
“What is this, Blue?” Yog’s voice carried throughout the cavern.
“Hero!” Blue raised his knife. “I captured him!”
“You captured a sick, drunken fool. I knew these Heroes were pale imitations of the ones I fought before, but I expected better.” Her hut walked towards the shore, wooden legs bending like those of a spider.
“Do you think Blue will keep to the plan?” asked Winter.
“No.” Sterling slid his sword free. “Primarily because I never shared the real plan with him. Or with you, and for that I beg your forgiveness.”
Winter’s lips pursed, and the air grew chillier. “You didn’t trust him.”
“Not him,” said Sterling. “Them. There was a second message on the skull. A line that read, ‘Kas bad.’ I think Blue was warning us to expect betrayal.”
“You could have mentioned that sooner,” said Rook.
“This is the first chance I’ve had where neither Kas nor Blue could overhear.” Sterling shifted his shoulder, loosening his sword arm. “If things fall apart, as they most certainly will, Rook should regroup with the other Heroes in Grayrock. Tell them what’s happened, and to prepare for Yog’s arrival.”
“Grayrock?” whispered Rook. “I thought she was after Brightlodge.”
“She is.” Sterling grinned. “I intend to divert her.”
“You’re counting on a double cross. That’s a risky game.” In Rook’s experience, such plans could steal victory from overwhelming odds, but they were just as likely to end in disaster.
Yog’s hut stopped a short distance from Jeremiah Tipple. “Search him. Once you’re certain he’s unarmed, bring him to me.”
“Here we go,” said Sterling. “Be ready.”
Blue tried to haul Tipple back to shore, but the man didn’t budge. Tipple grabbed the rope and kicked the redcap’s feet out from under him. The instant Blue hit the water, Tipple grabbed him by the ankles and charged the hut, swinging Blue like a club.
His first strike knocked Yog into the water. With a howl of triumph, he tossed Blue aside and threw himself atop Yog, trying to throttle her. His muscles bulged. Any ordinary person would have been dead within seconds.
Sterling pointed. “Rook, try to keep the ogre off our backs. Winter, you’re with me. If anything gets too close, freeze it.”
“Where are we going?” asked Winter.
Sterling pointed to one of the campfires. “Close enough to grab a burning branch. I don’t feel like trying to find one little box Yog’s kept hidden for centuries. Easier to burn the whole damn hut, don’t you think?”
“I like it! I’ll freeze the lake to keep the hut from escaping or ducking underwater.”
Bones leaped from the water to assail Tipple, biting and clubbing him into submission. Yog rose, seemingly unharmed. She returned to her hut and pulled herself up while Tipple covered his head and shoulders.
Sterling sprinted out of the tunnel, heading for the closest fire. Winter followed a half step behind. With everyone’s attention on Tipple and Yog, they were able to get most of the way there before the first redcap noticed.
Rook’s crossbow cut the redcap down before he could cry out. It bought them only a few more seconds before a small stone doll climbed out of the water. Kas scrambled up the hut and shouted to Yog, “The redcap betrayed you, my love! Beware the tunnels!”
“Bloody hell.” Rook gripped his crossbow in both hands and bellowed the Strangers’ war cry, a deep-throated sound of hunger and rage. He stomped into the cavern and shot the nearest redcap in the face.
As a rule, the sight of a Stranger charging into battle with a heavy, repeating crossbow was enough to make any sane foe think twice. Unfortunately, these redcaps didn’t even bother with the first thought. They simply attacked. Some scooped up rocks and weapons. Others charged bare-handed. Rook reloaded, used the stock of his crossbow to knock one redcap into the path of the rest, shot a second, then ran in the opposite direction from Sterling and Winter, trying to draw the redcaps away.
Sterling had Arbiter in one hand and a flaming torch in the other. A pair of frozen redcaps showed that Winter had been busy as well. By the hut, Tipple roared and tried again to reach Yog, but the hut lurched forwards, and one of the stilts swung out to club him in the chest. He flew backwards, hitting the beach hard enough to make Rook wince in sympathy.
“Bring me the Heroes,” Yog shouted.
“I was right,” Rook muttered. “This was a bloody stupid plan.” A sea of redcaps stood between him and the others. They swarmed around Sterling and Winter, cutting them off from Yog’s hut.
Headstrong lumbered across the cavern, her attention fixed solely on Rook. She knocked redcaps aside with the flats of her axes.
Rook waited until the ogre was close enough for him to count her oversized yellow teeth. He picked his targets and squeezed the trigger. Two bolts hit a noggin in the mouth and eye. Several more slammed into Headstrong’s stomach. Another buried itself in the ear of a different noggin. He concentrated the rest on the ogre’s thigh, hoping to make her fall.
It wasn’t enough. Rook rolled out of the way of the first swing. He tried to get in another shot while Headstrong recovered, but she was faster than he would have guessed. Instead of lurching to and fro, she used her axes’ momentum to spin around for a second swipe that nearly took Rook’s head from his body.
He rolled again, then hurled sand and gravel at the ogre’s eyes. It wasn’t much of an attack, but it distracted Headstrong long enough for him to jump up and smash the butt of his crossbow into the bridge of her nose. The ogre howled and stumbled, but before he could follow up on his advantage, one of her noggins shouted, “To yer left!”
Rook ducked, barely avoiding her blind swing.
“He dropped low!”
The second axe descended towards his head. He dived aside, and the blade smashed into the ground, spraying dirt everywhere.
“Get him into biting range!”
“Try not to kill him,” yelled another noggin. “Just maim him a lot. Yog likes her food fresh.”
An explosion of snow and ice flung the redcaps back from Winter and Sterling long enough for Sterling to hurl his torch at the hut. One of the stilted legs knocked it into the water, then the redcaps were swarming over them.
All of Rook’s training and experience urged him to fight on. Like the Strangers said, you were born alone, but you died together. You fought as one, and you damn well didn’t leave a single man, woman, or child behind.
But Sterling claimed to have a plan, and he was counting on Rook to get word to Grayrock.
“Aw, hell.” Rook retreated towards the tunnel. Once there, he rammed a new magazine into his crossbow. Yog was out of range and presumably unkillable, since it looked like that ruddy beggar Kas had never had any intention of helping them find and end her life.
He aimed at Headstrong instead. If nothing else, he meant to take down at least one of Yog’s Riders today.
A quiet titter carried through the tunnel behind him. Rook whirled and shot the squad of redcaps sneaking up behind him. The bolts exploded, blowing the redcaps apart.
Headstrong was coming too fast for him to reload again. With a curse, Rook slid the strap over his shoulder and fled.
“I hate this bloody plan.”
CHAPTER 18
GLORY
It was bad enough that Glory, Inga, Shroud, and Leech had been forced to set out in the ridiculously dark, cold, early hours of the night, while Sterling’s team enjoyed a good night’s sleep. This was the only way to ensure they got Ben to Grayrock in time.
Their unannounced travelling companion was another matter. Glory hadn’t come to Brightlodge to be a delivery girl, and she certainly hadn’t signed up for babysitting duty.
“What happens if Sterling and the others can’t stop Yog?” asked Greta. “She’ll come after us next, right?”
“After your brother, to be specific,” said Glory. Greta had sneaked out of Brightlodge and followed them. She’d done a good job too, making it almost an hour before Shroud spotted her. By then it was too late to turn around. “Remind me why we didn’t send you marching back to Brightlodge?”
“Are you daft?” asked Inga. “You don’t send a helpless child walking through the woods alone.”
“I’m not helpless.” Greta pulled out the long kitchen knife she had tucked through her belt.
“There you go,” said Glory. “She’s not helpless.”
“She’s trying to look after her brother.” Inga smiled at the girl.
“Fine, but as her Mayor, I’m ordering her to stay quiet and out of the way. If we run into trouble, we’ll have enough to worry about without having to save her neck too.”
“Trouble like that?” Greta pointed to a streak of glowing coals crossing the path ahead. In full daylight, it might have looked like dirt or mud, as if a runaway mule had dragged a plough through the woods, but in the darkness it was easy to make out the ripples of orange heat pulsing through the ash.
“It’s a foot wide at most.” Inga walked to the edge of the smouldering line. “Not much of a barrier.”
“Not a barrier. A trip wire. Cross the flames and trigger the trap.” Shroud unshouldered his bow and jogged into the woods, heading north. “I’ll see how far it stretches.”
“Skye did this,” Glory guessed. She looked about, searching for the nymph.
“If Winter were here, she could—” Greta began.
“But she’s not.” Glory scowled. Had something moved in the distance? Skye and her little flaming puppets could be closing in while they stood here like fools, stopped in their tracks by a line on the ground.
“It
looks to circle all of Grayrock,” Shroud called from the treetops. “Even crosses the river, like some sort of bridge. Also, we’ve got a pair of greencaps heading this way from the town.”
“Good.” Glory flexed her fingers and stepped into the open, deliberately making herself a target.
It wasn’t long before the greencaps came into view. They moved with a lopsided pace, weapons ready. One appeared to be injured. His arm was held close to his body.
“Is that who I think it is?” asked Greta.
“The Mayor.” This got better and better. “I wonder how he escaped the flooding.”
The Mayor had recognised Glory, too. She could tell from the way he screamed and charged, waving a pickaxe about his head. He would have run right through the blackened trap if his fellow greencap hadn’t stopped him. Well, not so much “stopped him” as “hit him in the back of the head with a rock.”
The Mayor spun and cursed. In addition to the improvised, bloody cap nailed to his scalp, the Mayor had also nailed his broken arm to his ribs. She supposed it was as good a makeshift splint as the creatures were likely to get.
“How does it feel to lose your title and your town both?” Glory called out. She spread her arms. “Care to try to take it back?”
Once again the Mayor started towards her, only to be hit with another rock. Blast that second greencap. Though watching him throw rocks at the Mayor was entertaining.
“Let’s play a game,” Shroud said from the shadows. “Every trap can be bypassed. Whichever one of you shares the secret wins his life. The other gets the consolation prize of an arrow through the throat.” The creak of his bow being drawn punctuated the threat.
“There’s nae trap,” said the second greencap. “Just a ruse. Cross and see.”
“You first,” said Glory.
The Mayor snorted. “Doesn’t matter. Skye’ll burn you all. Pay ye back for destroying my town.”
“Skye was trying to destroy Grayrock before we ever got here,” Inga pointed out.
