“We help!” Leaf gleefully repeated. I knew that’s what they would tell Amara, if they found her.
I motioned for the faeries to come in closer—it helped with their focus sometimes if I was only inches from their faces. “Let’s break this down. Fly directly to the Shimmering Dewdrop, only speak to Amara, and tell her, ‘Taryn outside hedge’.”
They stared at me blankly and Crusty chewed on a twig.
“How about, ‘Taryn outside green thing’. And you each get your own ale once we get inside and have found Foxy.” They brightened up at that.
“Taryn outside green thing!” Mostly in unison, Crusty still had the twig in her mouth.
I looked to Mathilda and she nodded. That was the best we could do.
“Now stay focused and fly fast. Go!” The three faeries took off toward the hedge, but so did Bunky and Irving. I had no idea what would happen to magical constructs if they were attacked by whatever spell had zapped Crusty. And I didn’t think we wanted to find out.
“Bunky and Irving! Get back here.” I was certain they heard me, but neither of them even twitched as they flew over the hedge. Two bolts of green lightning flew out of the hedge and struck both of them. Fortunately, both constructs were flung back to our side and tumbled to the ground behind us. Both shook themselves and stayed on the ground. But they seemed to be functioning.
The faeries paused, but I yelled for them to keep going. They were almost past the hedge, when three more green lines shot out of the hedge and hit each faery. They started shaking in mid-air. Garbage tried to keep going, but she could barely move.
“Come back! All of you!” I looked to Mathilda.
“Faeries! Attend me now!” She didn’t use magic, but there was a command in her voice that got them to come back. The green force vanished once they were headed back our way.
Crusty took that to mean she could try again and did a back flip and shot out over the hedge. She got a bit further than Garbage had before, but got zapped hard enough to send her flying right at me.
I caught her and used my thumb and forefinger to pinch out the burning fabric on her overalls. Her tiny flower petal cap was nothing more than a fried cinder. Her eyes were closed and she was limp.
Chapter Seven
“Do again?” Her eyes popped open and she looked ready to spring out of my hand. I tightened my fingers around her.
“No.”
Garbage and Leaf had tumbled to land near Bunky and Irving. They were frazzled, but not as crispy as Crusty. They also didn’t look like they wanted to do it again—unlike Crusty.
“That was a failure,” Mathilda said. “I’d say your dryad friend was definitely trying to defend against those flying syclarions. Only the top caste syclarions can do it, but she must have had a run in with them. I’ve never heard of this kind of power in any dryad.”
“Amara is passionate. But regardless of the defenses, we have to get inside there.”
“Meows.” Crusty muttered from inside my fingers. I wasn’t sure what the odd sound was directed at, so I released the fingers a bit to see her better.
“What did you mean, sweetie?”
“Meows. We need kittahs to go through.”
Maybe the multiple zaps had rattled her brain worse than she looked. That was a complete sentence, something the faeries rarely did.
“Yes, kittens,” Garbage said as she flew up to us. “They work.”
“How are cats going to help us get through that?” I pointed to the hedge just in time to see three cats push their way out of the plants. The magic didn’t affect them that I could see, just the denseness of the shrubbery. Once they’d cleared the hedge, I realized the three looked familiar. Many months ago, Alric and I had caught the faeries running a cat-racing operation for money.
They’d corrupted enough of the local wild faeries to join in and from what I’d seen the races were well attended and profitable. Until Alric and I shut them down anyways.
The largest was a blond, longhaired cat with a dark mask and feet and startling blue eyes, the second was a tiny calico, with an orange fur Mohawk, and the third was a long, sleek gray one with short fur. They stopped in front of Mathilda expectantly.
She looked surprised, but bent down to provide the required scratches. “These are your friends?”
“These were their money makers,” I responded. “The girls ran an illegal cat racing operation in Beccia for a while. How did they cross the hedge with no problem?” The question of why they’d come out was clear. After they’d received their scratches, they went to stand by the faeries. The girls didn’t look surprised, so they must have mentally called them.
“The cats aren’t combatants. It’s tricky to make a spell that can tell the difference.”
Garbage and the other two faeries were busy getting reunited with their cats. Bunky and Irving held back but looked a bit put out.
Garbage turned to Bunky. “We ride in. You wait. Guard.”
That was a level of insight I’d rarely seen from my perpetually cranky orange faery. She knew the constructs felt left out.
With a head bob and a gronk, Bunky and Irving lifted up into the air and started patrolling the area around us.
Garbage climbed onboard the back of the calico, moving forward until her tiny legs were at the cat’s neck. “Is Goblin cat, mine.” She proudly patted the side of the cat’s head and wrapped her hands into the fur on the back of her neck.
Leaf bounded over to the longhaired cat and quickly dug into the fur. “Fluffy Nuggets is mine.” The cat’s purr was so loud I think they probably heard it on the other side of the hedge.
Crusty gave a high-pitched squeal and ran to the slinky gray cat. She reminded me of Queen Mungoosey, the leader of the faeries and the only cat faery I’d heard of. But the look in those green eyes was far less sane. “Is Nutsy! My Nutsy!” Crusty buried her face in the short fur and the cat, Nutsy, did an odd little dance. The crazy was strong with those two.
All three looked to me. “Now, girls, where are you going?”
“Shimmering Dewdrop!” shouted Garbage and Leaf.
“Ale!” shouted Crusty.
“Who do you talk to?”
“Tree lady!”
“Ale!”
I glared at Crusty but she ignored it. “What do you say?”
“Taryn outside green thing!”
“Ale!”
Two out of three would have to be enough. Judging from the look of maniacal glee on both Crusty and her feline steed’s face, I’d be lucky if they even made it to the same block as the Shimmering Dewdrop.
“Stay out of sight, but go quickly.” Having never raced cats myself, I had no idea how the faeries got them started.
“Go!” Garbage yelled and wheeled her calico toward the hedge. The tiny cat was far faster than I would have expected and quickly vanished into the greenery. Leaf and her cat weren’t far behind. Crusty and Nutsy tried to go in sideways, but eventually turned and made it in.
“So, cat racing?” Mathilda folded gracefully to the ground into a seated position. There was no way to know how long it would take and while sitting on a path wasn’t a great choice, there weren’t a lot of options.
“Yes. I have no idea how long they’d been doing it by the time we broke them up, but it looked like a pretty established operation.”
Mathilda nodded. “It’s good they had a hobby, I suppose.”
We sat in companionable silence for a bit. Finally I brought up something that had bothered me once I knew she was Siabiane’s sister. “Why didn’t you go with Siabiane when they hid? Were you trapped outside of the enclave?” When I’d seen her in the past, Siabiane had mentioned Mathilda, but she clearly hadn’t been in the enclave.
“I wasn’t trapped outside, I chose not to go. I thought it was a stupid idea. I also didn’t think they’d keep it up for almost a thousand years. It was an over-reaction to a horrific attack on a people who thought they were invincible.”
“I was there for the
beginning, it was terrifying, and I’m not an elf.” I rubbed my arms at the memory of seeing Lorcan die at the hands of his brother.
“I saw what happened to the rest of the world without the elves’ influence. It was also horrific. The elves had been a power to keep the rest of the species in line. With them gone?” She shook her head. “And it wasn’t as if they vanished immediately. The war with the Dark lasted over a year. No one won, even though the Dark was stopped in their grab for power. The final battle was more destructive than anyone would have guessed. The Dark hid in the southern lands, and the rest of the elves locked themselves in enclaves.”
I couldn’t help myself; as tragic as it was, made even more so by having gone into the past, I wanted to ask more questions. But before I could pull them together, the hedge started moving.
I’ll admit it, I screamed. And jumped to my feet, stumbled back a few feet, and fell on my rear.
Bunky and Irving dropped lower and took positions between us and the moving greenery.
Mathilda rose slowly, but was using her staff to lean on, not to set a spell up.
“Taryn?” A year ago I would have been worried about a piece of hedge calling my name, now it was just a little odd. It helped that the voice sounded like Amara.
“I’m here, Amara. I’ve brought help, but we can’t get in.” I wasn’t sure where to direct my comment, so I aimed it where the shrubs were moving the most. There wasn’t an open pathway, but they seemed to be thinner in one area.
“It’s a trap, Amara!” The voice that shouted out behind us was also familiar. “Taryn was spelled and kidnapped and there’s a magic user with her.”
I spun. “Alric?” He was wearing solid black as usual, but he also had a black mask pulled up to cover most of his face. But there was no way those green eyes could belong to anyone else. My heart jumped to my throat. Damn I’d missed him. “I’m not spelled, and Mathilda is a friend.” I didn’t move closer, although I really wanted to run to him.
Bunky and Irving were torn between greeting what appeared to be Alric and protecting us. Bunky had a fondness for Alric, but he also clearly thought I was in danger.
“Why weren’t you two together?” Our hidden dryad was still speaking through her hedge, but the part that had been moving forward stilled at Alric’s words.
“Alric and Amara, it’s me. I wasn’t kidnapped, nor am I spelled.” I waved to Bunky and Irving. “Would they put up with me if I was under a spell? Would the faeries? Amara knows I sent them to her.” I turned to the hedge. “Where are they, by the way?”
“Drinking. I’ll agree she’s not under a spell.” A pause. “And neither is Alric. Have your friends come out where I can sense them better.”
Alric dropped his mask, but still looked suspiciously at Mathilda. Slowly, Covey, Padraig, and Lorcan came forward. Nasif, Dueble, Flarinen, and Kelm were missing.
“Where are the others?” I didn’t think they’d be hiding, not since Amara made it clear she could tell if they were.
Lorcan watched me closely for a few seconds before smiling and coming over. “I sent the knights back to the king and queen; they’ll need to rally the troops soon, I fear. Nasif and Dueble can help them in other ways.” He hugged me tightly, then stepped back and turned to Mathilda. “I am sorry I failed to recognize you while we were hiding in the woods. Siabiane will be sorry she missed seeing you.” He went to Mathilda and engulfed her in a warm embrace.
Alric ran forward and swung me in the air. “We thought you’d been taken!” He gave me a quick, yet passionate kiss. It was odd, being right in the middle of everyone, but I’d missed him too much to complain.
“I left the extra faeries with you. They were supposed to tell you I was okay.”
“They told us you had a spell and needed to leave. Then they left. But I think they’re around here somewhere. I thought I saw one or two a few days ago." His face stilled. “So you left on your own? Why?”
“I—” My attempt at an explanation got cut off as Covey ran forward and hugged me out of Alric’s arms.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again!” The relief, worry, and concern in her eyes almost made me break down and tell them the truth. But I couldn’t. Not yet, and certainly not here.
“I’m not sure what’s been happening with you people since you left, but Taryn offered her help and holding this open isn’t easy,” Amara’s disembodied voice said. The hedge shifted a bit more and a thin trail appeared.
“I am glad to meet you, Taryn has told me of you,” Mathilda said and flashed a smile to Alric. “But I agree we don’t want to be on this side of the fair dryad’s hedge.” With a nod to the constructs, who surprisingly flew down right behind her, Mathilda and Lorcan disappeared into the breach in the green.
Padraig stopped to give me a quick hug, and then followed Mathilda, with Covey, Alric, and me right behind.
Once he’d gotten me back from Covey’s uncharacteristic hug, Alric wouldn’t let go. He kept his arm around me until the passage grew too thin, then dropped down to hold my hand. I couldn’t believe how good it felt just to be near him again.
The hedge didn’t open directly through, I felt us going along the center and the plants closing in after we passed. I really hoped Amara hadn’t regressed and switched to the other side. This hedge could kill people and their bodies would be left unfound for months. It was sad that my first thought usually went to something trying to kill me.
Before my brain could move into a full panic, the hedge opened before us. Amara wasn’t in sight, but I recognized where we were. The Shimmering Dewdrop was just three blocks away. Looking at the hedge from the inside was far more claustrophobic than the outside. Maybe it was because we’d just spent five minutes walking through it.
“Amara?” I felt stupid talking to thin air, but I didn’t know if she was hiding somewhere. There were a number of large Gapen trees nearby and she could be in any of them.
“I’m in the pub. Just come through the back; the front is boarded up.” The disembodied voice came from the hedge behind us.
That didn’t bode well. We started walking toward the pub, or rather to the back alley that ran behind the pub. Some of the places that I knew were untouched, but more than a few looked boarded up. Slim Jenkins’ pub was nothing more than cinders. Which was actually an improvement.
Amara’s original tree had been magically destroyed to ensure she would help Jovan, an evil elf mage of the Dark who was now very dead. The manner in which it had been done left a tiny viable portion to resurrect itself. Foxy had taken that and planted it behind the pub. Even though it had been just under a year since that had happened, the tree before us looked massive enough to have been around since before the time of the elves. Thin tendrils reached out over the surrounding buildings and connected it to the hedge. We’d walked right under them and I hadn’t even noticed them.
The door to the back of the pub creaked open and a moment later Alric had been torn from my side and tackled.
Chapter Eight
The dark form that had taken him out was Dogmaela, a full-blooded troll. She’d taken a shine to Alric when he first came to the pub a year ago, and I was sure that once he could breathe again, he’d return the hug.
She finally pulled back, released him, and stood him back on his feet. “Good to see you.”
I hid my smile. Most trolls spoke their own pidgin, understandable but sometimes as heavy as the faeries. Amara had clearly been working with Dogmaela on elocution.
“Come in quickly; there are still spies,” Amara said. This time she wasn’t speaking through the hedge, her slim form was in the doorway. She watched the alley closely.
Alric led our friends inside. Bunky and Irving heard something and flew ahead. I heard it too a moment later—drunken faery singing. I theorized if we could find a way to make their singing into a mass-produced weapon, we could destroy anyone who came against us.
The pub appeared intact, but only a few regulars were inside and the front d
oor and windows were boarded up. The faeries and constructs were at the bar itself, with each faery staggering around in their own ale bottle. I thought about saying something, but shook my head and turned away instead.
“You have to help me save Foxy. No one else thinks he’s still alive, but I know he is. We have to save him.” Amara had always been slender, but she was heading toward skeletal now. Even her long green hair looked thin and lifeless.
“What happened?” Alric dropped his pack near a large table by the fire. The cats looked up as one from their spots near the fire, then shrugged, and went back to bathing.
Amara crumpled onto the nearest chair and dropped her head in her hands. Dogmaela brought her a mug of tea. “Everything. A few months ago, a mayor from a neighboring town started spending money in Beccia. He wanted to launch his own dig site, hire his own diggers, and spend lots of money. The Antiquities Committee said no and a few lower level mages from The Hill tried to force him to leave.” She took a long sip of tea. “That didn’t work. The mayor brought in his army, almost all syclarions and many were flyers.” She nodded to make sure we knew how rare they were.
“Beccians aren’t fighters. But my Foxy is. He organized the resistance. They were winning too, pushing the syclarions back. Then they grabbed him and the strongest ones with him and the resistance broke. The mayor’s people started to march through here, occupying the place. It was a few days before I knew they’d taken Foxy, I’d thought he’d been doing recon work.” She pointed back outside where the hedge was. “My tree and I didn’t take it well.”
“But wouldn’t that have trapped them in here with you?” Alric nodded his thanks as Dogmaela made the rounds with ale.
“My tree really was unhappy. He was able to emit a smell that syclarions can’t stand. It was a defense mechanism, and he used all of it. But they left. Then we made the hedge. That was five days ago.”
Padraig, Lorcan, and Mathilda came and took up seats after introducing themselves to Amara. She and Covey nodded to each other even though Covey rarely came here.
The Diamond Sphinx (The Lost Ancients Book 6) Page 5
