Justin was wearing his coat over his chain mail—and, significantly, over the Sword of Light, so as to not appear awkwardly magic-slaying. For running these kinds of errands, he'd also brought the white shield the Kahales had replaced for him, but as additional sign of trust, kept it over his back. He and Cassia bowed. Lani and Megan curtsied. "I'd forgotten you were Spanish,” Megan said.
The huge draconic head nodded. “Asturian, to be precise.”
Megan didn't know what that was, but Ashling oh-so-helpfully leaned in and whispered “Asturian has a lot more Xs in it than most forms of Spanish.”
Megan did not sigh at Ashling because they were being diplomats. “Thank you for the help fighting Mister O'Neill." Megan very carefully applied the ex-professor's current title, after he'd risked everything for a chance to become king and lost all of it, including his former life.
"You paid for the receipt," the dragon answered. "I did nothing but business. The risk and resulting rewards were yours. The losses as well. Pass my condolences to your father."
Megan's expression sobered, and she nodded. "I will. But maybe you can tell him yourself. I think he'd appreciate that. You may have heard there's a diplomatic conference happening. We're here to officially extend an invitation, and it looks like you're the person to see."
“Looks can be deceiving,” the dragon said, the cool mist of his breath hanging in the air. “Fortunately, Senor Perez is here. You'll want him in on any talk of political business.”
"Who is Senor Perez?"
"Down here," came a heavily accented voice, as a mouse in a red jacket and a black Cordobes hat with red fringe circled around the dragon. "I did indeed hear of the conference. Senor Xurde and his ladies were kind enough to wait with me for the invitation."
“Oh. Well, thank you for being here. Are you able to come to Murias soon for the discussion?”
“On that, I'm not sure. No offense meant, but Orlaith can't even keep her own house in order."
“Well, it's not entirely her house for the rest of the week: my dad's officially in charge right now.”
“Ah, yes. Seasonal things can be difficult to track, since I work all hemispheres.”
“Makes sense. And you're definitely not going to upset me by not trusting the Queen, but can you tell me more about what you meant just now?”
“I was referring to the difficulties of entering into a massively multinational diplomatic situation with someone who couldn't reach workable terms with her own nephew.”
“Oh.” Megan searched her memory for a vague reference. “Right, the one who tried to fight with cold iron?”
“Yes. Tiernan, to my knowledge, is the only nephew she has.”
Megan nodded, realizing she'd never asked about the guy's name. “That was way before I was around. She... made him go away, I think?”
“Yes, but making him go away is not exactly as impressive a political feat as making him actually put such things away and agree to behave within polite society.”
“Yeah, I can see why you'd feel that way.” Megan looked at Ashling. “Why'd he do it? Bring out the cold iron, I mean.”
“Well, technically, the argument started over some human political uprising in Ireland,” the pixie said. “But really, it was about affiliation.”
“What, he doesn't like menehune or something?”
“This was before the Brownie-Menehune Alliance. The focus of his objection was General Inwar.”
“It's a pity, really,” Cassia said. “They could have been pals, or at least fellow hobbyists in discussing the exactly correct size of stick to have up one's—”
“Cassia, we're in a meeting,” Megan interrupted. She looked back to the mouse. “Can you give the conference a chance if I promise we're trying to handle this as politely and cordially as possible for everyone?”
“This does not count the Greeks,” Cassia said.
“Okay, yeah, definitely can't speak for the Greeks,” Megan admitted.
“No one can.” The mouse looked thoughtful for a moment. He looked up—and up, and up—to exchange glances with the dragon. His gaze returned to Megan, and he nodded. “We can try.”
“Great. Just out of curiosity, is politics your only business, Senor Perez?”
“Nope. Most of the time, I work in teeth.”
“Teeth? Like, trading coins for lost teeth under a pillow?”
“I had a cousin in that line, for a while,” Ashling interjected.
“Sometimes under the pillow,” the mouse said. “But sometimes in a glass on the nightstand. Likewise, sometimes coins, but sometimes candy.”
“Candy? But isn't that terrible for teeth?”
“A mouse has to stay in business somehow.”
Chapter 10: Poison
“Well, that was interesting,” Lani said as they climbed over another set of otherworldly rocks, well within schedule to be home before anyone missed them.
For once, Megan's wandering attention was a benefit: she was the only one to notice the motion above them, on a ridge to their left. The man was standing only 15 yards away. He had unruly black hair, rounded features, and pupil-less blood-red eyes. Shortly after those eyes met hers, he raised a bow.
"Look out!" she called before rushing ahead, tackling Cassia—or, more specifically, crashing into Cassia hard enough that the satyress stumbled forward a few steps. The black-tipped arrows that would have hit Cassia mostly hit the ground harmlessly, though one grazed Megan's shoulder. Searing pain instantly shot through her, and the scrape, shallow though it was, kept feeling like it was on fire.
Megan caught a glance of three figures on the ridge above as they headed for the gate. As two of them drew arrows, the first was turning from a bowman into a very, very large dog-thing. She felt hands on her arm—and felt teeth grabbing onto her jacket—before she was pulled along, with the rest of the group shouting about cover and running.
Eventually, they found cover, two more arrows hitting the ground just behind them. As soon as the shouting, running, and dragging stopped, Cassia and Justin took up defensive positions, each joined by a cat, while Lani and Ashling tended to Megan.
"Poison?" Lani asked, starting into her kit.
"Poison and iron burn," Ashling agreed, before turning to shout at the Count to stay down out of sight.
"Iron burn?" Megan asked, remembering Ashling's wings. After the fight with the undead last year, some of the other fae bore permanent blackened scars as well.
Lani set to cleaning the wound out, very obviously more concerned with being thorough than worrying about it hurting.
"Not near as bad as when faeries get hit with it. You'll heal. But you're still more allergic to cold iron than most people. This won't be fun."
Despite the pain, Megan couldn't help but notice the hints in Lani's voice that suggested she wasn't entirely positive Megan would be fine, though given that it was a cut to the arm, she was pretty sure the problem was more about the poison than the cut.
"Stings," Megan managed.
"I know it does,” Lani said. “Some type of Fomoire garbage. Just hang on."
Megan became aware of the pixie singing in her ear, just the way she did when trying to urge Megan to sing along. Megan knew the words to this one. She couldn't remember what it was for, but she knew it. Unsteadily, she tried to sing along.
She almost lost the melody when there was a tremendous howl, then some snarling and hissing to her left. Justin shouted a warning about creatures trying to draw them into line of sight. Megan turned her head to try to make sense of it, but when she moved much, her vision blurred.
"Just stay with me. Stay with me. Sing with me," Ashling was calling, picking the words back up. The Gaelic sounded even odder to Megan than usual, but she sang again, trying to keep up.
Lani slid back over. "Drink this." she offered, trying to help support Megan's head to ease in drinking a small cup of something. Whatever it was, it was awful. Her first instinct was to spit up the bitter mixture, but she fought that back and swallow
ed, which was even worse.
"Eugh, whazzat?"
"Keep singing," Ashling insisted.
"Tincture of burdock, echinacea, and milk thistle,” Lani said. “All Faerie grown."
"Thought... wasn't s'posed to eat Faerie stuff."
"Sing," the pixie insisted. This time, Megan got back to singing along, trying to enunciate the words again, with great effort.
"Kerr made it, after Justin got hit with that spell last year,” Lani said. “Don't say anything. Keep singing, but since the antidote song has an F#, we at least needed this to get you started."
Megan almost retorted about Lani the Girl Scout but was, at the moment, really grateful for the assist, no matter how bad that assist tasted. She wondered, a little, if brownie preparedness extended beyond just showing up at exactly the right times. Kitchen magic was, apparently, very real and very useful stuff.
Over her song, she managed to hear shouting back and forth from Justin and Cassia. There were sounds of clashing metal, and both canine and feline howling, snarling, and snapping. There was a lot of movement, and most of it made Megan even more desperate to know what was going on, but every time she did more than lay still, her vision started to blur again, and her head swam. At the very least, the burning in her shoulder was growing less intense. She wasn't positive that that was a good thing but tried very hard to convince herself it was.
"Megan, don't go to sleep. I need you to keep singing," Ashling urged, between bits of the song, to try to help keep Megan on task. Cassia shouted the pixie's name, and something else, but Megan was only really able to make out Ashling's answer. "No, the path isn't safe," she shouted between refrains. "No, I don't know why. They probably did something to it."
Justin called that the path would put them back in the open anyway.
A now familiar voice called, in a shout from the other side of their rocky cover, "Just the sword. Toss it out to us, and you can go!"
Cassia called back, in graphic detail, about precisely where he could go, and then resumed speaking to Ashling. "Is there another path?"
The pixie paused, then urged Megan on again. "You're doing fine. Just keep singing. I can see the poison leaking out." Megan guessed, from the brief near-retching from Lani, that the comment was factual, and not just an effort at making her feel better. "Yes, there's another path."
"Can she walk?" the satyress obviously meant Megan.
"Yes, but not right now," Ashling responded without hesitation. Megan tried to take the flip answer as a further good sign that Ashling was sure she was going to pull through.
"They'll come again," Justin warned.
"Then we need to move," Cassia replied. "I nearly took that one's head. They'll be cautious for a few minutes."
"What I wouldn't do for a brownie illusion about now," Lani said.
"Ask Kerr along next time. The traveling rations'll be a damn sight better," Cassia said.
"Kerr has a kitchen to manage," Lani said.
"Seriously? Do you really, honestly think Kerr gives more damns about the kitchen than... this bunch? Just ask, seriously."
"Maybe. Kerr worked hard for that spot. I don't want to cause a demotion. Brownies take those seriously," Lani said.
"Of course brownies care about demerits," Cassia snorted. "Now come on and drag her. If we're quiet, we might be able to get out of here without them noticing."
Jude and Lani resumed pulling Megan along, and while she thought about trying to move and help a couple times, she was still struggling to manage more than concentrating on the song, and that was even with the help of Ashling, sitting on her shoulder and guiding her along, while occasionally giving quiet directions on the best alternate path where they could stay in hiding.
"Where we going?" Megan asked, earning some pokes from the pixie. She got back to singing.
Possibly as reward, Ashling bothered to answer her. "To Hell if we don't change our ways. Which, really, isn't as bad as it sounds. Wisconsin is lovely this time of year."
Lani sighed. "Geography jokes aside, really, where are we going?"
"I really, sincerely don't know," Ashling answered. "Except away from those guys. I don't know this path, just that the way there is safe, except for the Fomoire shapeshifters following us."
"Can we ambush them in turn?" Justin asked, before adding, "And would you like a hand, Lani? I can carry her."
"First, they set traps on the road and prepared an ambush. They know this place better than we do. Plus, canine senses. I think we need to get ahead of them," Lani said first, "And I've got her. We need our fighters armed and ready. You saw how they fought."
"I did: like hunting hounds. They weren't rushing in, they were trying to draw us out, and away from each other. They had an archer ready if we so much as set foot beyond cover."
Cassia shook her head. "They were trying to draw us out, yes. But that was a pretty weak effort. They wanted to see where we all were, and figure out where we stashed Megan."
"Why would they do that?” Lani asked. “She doesn't have the sword, and she certainly wasn't going to hurt them in this state."
Cassia glanced back and spat. "Because they saw her and Justin together. They wanted me to get the arrows, but they're cunning. So, second best—they get a set of jaws around her throat, and they figure they can trade for the sword."
"Why do they even want it? They can't use it." Lani said.
"To keep anyone else from using it on them. I figure they’re Fomoire shapeshifters: they turned into something tiny and snuck through the cracks in the ice,” Cassia said. “They're preparing the playground for the bigger kids to come."
"Who are they? Yes, yes, sing, I know," Megan said, getting back to it, but feeling better by the moment, as her healing song took greater effect. Her shoulder still burned, but she figured that was the iron burn part.
"Don't know. I know they're cowards, and I'll gladly kick their asses," Cassia said. "But not while protecting a wounded person. Cowards or not, shapeshifters have too many ways to take advantage of that. We'll see them again."
"I'd prefer we didn’t," Lani muttered.
There was a howling behind them, then another howl, then a third.
"I think they noticed we're missing," Justin said. "Sword or no, we need to move." He picked up Megan, entrusting Cassia with watching their rear flank, and Ashling pulled herself onto the Count's back. They ran, with the hound-things getting closer and closer behind them.
"And you're sure this path is safe?" Lani asked before stepping into the ring of mushrooms Ashling pointed out.
The pixie nodded. "The path is 100%, absolutely, totally safe." Lani started to step forward, closing her eyes, but paused a moment when Ashling added, "But whatever's on the other side... no promises."
Chapter 11: Basket Woman to Gray Lady
They emerged on a rocky hillside. The sounds of moving water filtered up from below, along with voices, though Megan couldn't currently make them out. Peering over an outcropping gave her a look at a quick-moving river, at the side of which was a very, very large woman. She looked something like an ash-colored Neanderthal and carried an immense wicker basket on her back.
“...I thought we still had a little time before there were Giants to deal with,” Megan whispered.
“Not a Giant,” said Ashling.
“She's enormous.”
“Yes, but not a Giant in terms of species, just ... gigantic. She's an ogre.”
They hushed as the huge figure turned towards them, squinting and sniffing the air. Another figure approached, similarly large and Neanderthal-ish, with huge iron bracelets, with broken chains dangling from them. Where the bracers rested, his skin went from ruddy to ash-black, as if they'd burned into the flesh, as had other sections of chain at his shoulders, and a second set of shackles at his ankles. “Tsonoqua,” he said with rough cordiality.
“Jack,” she answered. She continued looking around.
“They've got names like 'Tsonoqua' and 'Jack'?” Megan w
hispered.
“Very international, ogres,” Ashling said just as quietly. “When they hang out at all. They associate over culinary interest rather than national boundaries. Especially during the big holidays, like this one. They've started early."
“So they just happen to have a potluck at the same time we're in crisis mode?” Megan asked.
“Nope. They smell everything. Even trouble.”
“What, like the Scandinavian birds?”
“Different means, similar skill.”
“I want a danger sense if everyone else is getting one.”
"My danger sense is telling me that we're not downwind of them," Lani said, pointing back down to the ogres. "Listen."
Despite Lani's urgency, the pair of ogres remained casual, but with her attention pulled back to them, Megan was able to make out most of what they were saying.
“Smell the blood of an Englishman?” the one apparently named 'Jack' asked.
The female sniffed again. “Yep,” she said. “And an Irish woman... sidhe maybe. Hard to tell under the medicine. And definitely a satyr.”
He sniffed in turn. “Cats. Crow. Pixie. What's the last one?”
“Menehune,” the female said.
“Don't know those. What do you serve with them?”
“Fish, fruit, and root veggies.”
"That's our cue to leave,” Lani whispered. Making no argument, they started moving away from the two massive figures as quietly as they could.
"Which way?" Megan finally asked Ashling, as the pixie took them through twists and turns.
"Working on it."
"But there's only two of them, and they're behind us," Megan said, looking back over her shoulder. "I don't even hear them running or anything."
"There's no safe path," Ashling reported, seconds before the group's progress led them within sight of two more hulking figures. They turned, scrambling a different direction through the rocky terrain.
"What do we do?" Megan asked, panic rising, even as she was quickly running out of breath, not nearly fully recovered from the poisoning attempt.
"Try not to look so tasty," Ashling shouted back.
A Fair Fight Page 5
