Hunt of the Dwarf King

by Charley Case

  “Why not?” She cocked her head to the side. “The hound wore it for months, and nothing happened to it.”

  “That’s because hellhounds are magical creatures. The ring can feed off of them to power itself. It was why the poor thing was so hungry when we found her.” He tapped a finger lightly against her head. “But you Peabrains turned off that connection to magic. So, if the ring runs out of power, and it tries to feed off of you, you don’t have anything to give. At best, it will just stop working, but at worst, it could do some damage to you. I charged it up with my own magic as best I could, but you’ll still only have about twenty minutes. It’s more of a last resort kind of thing.”

  She stared at the ring, then put it in one her leggings pockets, its shape visible under the tight fabric. “Okay. I won’t use it unless I need to. How tough will it make me?”

  “Pretty tough.” Finn gave her a stern look. “But it won’t make you invulnerable. If you take too much damage with the ring on, you could shatter. Are you ready?”

  She gulped and nodded. “Yup. Let’s do this.”

  He pressed his hand to the stone wall and focused his power on the rocks inside it. He heard Mila give a little gasp as his eyes went from brown to light gray, and he began to glow with a purple haze.

  Penny, knowing what he was doing, quickly smothered the torch so the light wouldn’t give them away.

  A circle three feet in diameter began to glow as Finn directed power into the wall. He closed his eyes and visualized what he wanted the stone to do. It was a pretty basic spell, but it took a lot of energy and time to make happen. For nearly two minutes, he focused on the stones with no apparent effect. Then, in a sudden culmination of magic and will, the purple glow vanished, and where it had been solid stone a moment before, fine-grained sand fell to the ground, spilling out from the wall.

  What was left was a perfectly circular hole they could easily step through.

  “Shit,” Mila whispered, picking up a handful of sand and letting it flow between her fingers. “That was impressive.”

  “Wait till you see what I can really do,” he said with a smile. “Come on. We have to move.”

  Mila looked at Penny. “Is he just being cocky?”

  Penny considered, then waggled her hand back and forth. “Chi shee.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Finn kept low, hugging the wall as he made his way around the perimeter. He could hear Mila padded through the grass close behind him, whispering curses about the darkness. He glanced to the right and could see the estate lit up with outdoor lighting, putting several guards in silhouette as they walked the grounds. He could also see several more people through the windows of the house.

  This was really not a fight the three of them wanted to get into, but they needed to stop the hounds from being taken, or they would lose them for good.

  They continued moving for what felt like a quarter mile before Finn was able to see the large outdoor pen that Penny had told them about. The barking of the hounds had been present ever since they had crossed onto the property, but now that they had a line of sight, the volume picked up. A few yards from the back of the pen, Finn saw a crop of older trees that would provide them with some cover and perhaps a spot for Mila to be able to shoot from with an unobstructed view.

  He paused long enough for Mila to catch her breath. When she gave him a thumbs-up, he pointed to the trees. She nodded, adjusting the satchel of darts on her shoulder. Finn scanned the area and tapped Penny on the shoulder where she crouched in the grass beside him.

  She glanced up at him, and he again pointed to the trees, then made a circling motion with his finger. She nodded, and after a few galloping leaps, took off to fly a foot or two over the grass, scouting the area.

  Finn crouched down, the low, decorative shrubbery close to the wall covering them from view. Mila held the long rifle in both hands, her eyes wide in the dark as she glanced at the house, then over toward the pen.

  “You doing okay?” he asked, leaning in to keep his voice down. “You still cold?”

  She chuckled softly. “No, not cold. My blood’s going pretty well now, you were right. I‘m having trouble seeing, though. I don’t know how much help I can be if I can’t pick out targets.”

  Finn considered that, looking at the house and guards. “Well, you’ll just have to use the silhouettes, I guess. Though the pen and area around it are lit up pretty well. Plus, if we can get into the trees over there, you’ll only be shooting a dozen yards or so. Even I know that’s a pretty easy shot.” He smiled, but she just nodded, focusing on the trees.

  “I can’t see much from here, but it looks like it’ll be easier from there. That tree has some nice flat branches.” She squinted. “I think.”

  Penny came skimming across the ground and touched down, jogging the last few steps to stop herself. “Chi. Squee cheer.”

  “That copse of trees is clear and has clear views of the grounds beside the house and down the back drive. We need to hurry, though. She said the truck is backing up to the loading area of the pens now.”

  As if to prove his point, the sound of beeping filtered over the hounds’ barking, and they could see the lights of a large box truck backing into view.

  “Let’s move while everyone is watching the truck and hearing the hounds,” Finn suggested before taking off at a quick, low sprint.

  He could hear Mila right behind him as they circled around to the optimal angle. Then Finn turned and parted a couple of bushes and took a quick look. The crop of trees was right in front of them. He could see that the truck was almost in position. He waved for Mila to follow, and sprinted the fifty yards to the trees, trying to keep low, but also trying to get there fast.

  The thicket of trees was mostly evergreens, but there were a couple of large oaks in the middle, with vibrant yellow and red leaves still clinging to the branches. Finn dove through two evergreen bushes and found himself in a clearing that hid what looked like a small shed containing gardening equipment.

  Mila stumbled to a stop next to him. “I didn’t expect to find stuff in here,” she whispered between breaths. “Man, I need to do more cardio.” She sucked in a deep breath, leaning forward and resting the rifle on her knees.

  Finn scanned the clearing, appreciating the use of space. The two large oaks provided a large area under their branches where the gardeners kept their equipment for the grounds, and the whole mess was hidden by decorative rows of evergreen trees and bushes that surrounded the oaks.

  “Are those fireflies, or am I seeing stars from the blood rushing to my head?” Mila said, her head cocked to the side, as she was still bent at the waist, recovering from the sprint.

  Finn turned and saw several lightning bugs lazily flashing around the shed. “No, I see them too.”

  “That’s really weird. It’s too cold for them to be out.” She stood and took one last deep breath. “Anyway, where should I be?”

  Finn gestured to the shed. “The roof would give you plenty of space to lay down, and it’s tall enough to see over most of the bushes.”

  She nodded, and Finn stepped to the shed, putting his back to the side and cupping his hands into a stirrup.

  “Up you go.”

  Mila smiled and, holding the gun in one hand, put the other on his shoulder and stepped into his hands. After a second’s hesitation, she leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

  His eyes widened. “What was that for?”

  “Luck?” She smiled, then patted his shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Luck. That works for me.” He chuckled. Then, in one smooth motion, he tossed her up onto the roof.

  For the first time since she was an undergrad, Mila was thankful she had been on the cheerleading squad in high school and through college. Being as small as she was, she had been what’s called a flyer. Flyers are the girls being tossed thirty feet into the air to do the splits before they’d plummet and have to trust that the college dude, who had more than likely
been drinking too much the night before and was hungover-but-not-a-quitter, would catch her.

  All those years had prepared her for when Finn tossed her the twelve feet up onto the shed’s roof.

  She only had to windmill with one arm to keep her balance before Penny flew up and pushed her forward onto more solid footing.

  “Thanks,” Mila breathed to the dragon, who gave her a nod.

  She looked back down to see Finn posing a questioning thumbs-up. She gave him an ‘OK’ sign, and he turned to jog over to the bushes closest to the pen.

  Mila laid down and army-crawled to the edge of the roof to look for their target. Penny crawled up and laid beside her, giving the situation her own look.

  Mila was relieved to see there was more light around the pens, but there was not nearly as much as she would have liked. She could pick out several pairs of guards, some Kashgar and some Orc, paired by race, looking on as the truck finished backing up to the large chain link pen. For the first time, she was able to see the hounds.

  She did a quick count and estimated there to be around twenty-five hounds in total. She marveled that one hellhound had given birth to all of the beasts, less than two months ago.

  They were all full-grown and shining with smooth, stone skin of all colors. Some were white, some black, and every geological color in between. Unlike their mother, these hounds didn’t seem to have fur and instead were smooth-bodied. She wondered if that was a side effect of the circumstance of their birth, or if it was because their fur wouldn’t come until later in life, like how birds had several stages of feathers before adulthood.

  Mila pulled up her rifle and began scanning people through the scope. She quickly went through everyone standing in the light but didn’t see the one in the hooded jacket.

  “Penny,” she whispered. “I can’t find the guy in charge. Do you see him anywhere?”

  “Chi.” Penny pointed to the right, and then her eyes went wide. “Shir.”

  Mila tried to penetrate the darkness, but her human eyes just couldn’t do it. Then she saw him walking out of the darkness, right toward the crops of trees they were hiding in. He wasn’t alone, and he was gesturing agitatedly at his companion.

  As they got closer, Mila could make out that the second man was a tall, blond Kashgar man in a black jacket and dark jeans. His brow was furrowed as he listened to the hooded figure next to him.

  The men kept walking closer, obviously trying to get some distance from the hounds so they could talk easier. They stopped right up against the bushes she was sure Finn was hiding in before she could make out their words.

  “I don’t like this at all, Fredrick,” the hooded figure said, his voice angry. “The Selkies were one thing. We needed to know the capabilities of this thing.” He shook a golden circlet in one hand. “But if it taught us anything, it’s that we need more time to master the control.”

  Fredrick didn’t seem moved. “Mistress has given her orders. The Wooden Bard is a Magical gathering place. Attacking it will make the community demand protection, and we both know there will be none coming for the sake of keeping the community secret from the Peabrains. This gives the movement fuel to gather followers. What can be safer than a country of their own, with their best interests at heart, and not those of the willfully blind Peabrains?”

  “I understand the concept, but The Wooden Bard is not exclusively frequented by Magicals. There will be Peabrains there as well, which means the police will be called. We are not established enough to subvert police yet. Why not pick a place like one of the markets or another Magical-exclusive location? We could control the outcome better.”

  Fredrick sighed as if he had explained this a thousand times before. “Because if the attack is on a place only Magicals know exists, then it would have to have been perpetrated by a Magical. By picking a target that is well known even to the Peabrains who are in the know about Magicals, then we can build the narrative that it’s a Peabrain hate group. We have been over this. If you can’t perform your duties to the mistress, then we can find someone who can.”

  The hooded figure waved off the threat with a contemptuous hand. “Don’t give me that doom and gloom shit, Fredrick. You know as well as I do that you can’t replace me without a lot of trouble. I was personally asked to join by the mistress. Can you say that?”

  Fredrick set his jaw. “The word of the mistress is law. You know that.”

  “I do, but I still think it’s a mistake to move so quickly. Especially with Dr. Winters and that fucking dwarf sniffing around. Our man said he was taking care of him, but I’ll believe that when I see his bearded head on a spike, and not a second before. Dwarves are dangerous beyond anything you goddamned assholes want to believe, but what do I know? I’ve only studied them my entire life.”

  “Are you going to complete the raid, or am I going to have to call the mistress in to deal with you?” Fredrick was glowering but kept from shouting.

  “I’m working on it.”

  The hooded man turned his back to Mila and faced the pens with the hounds; Fredrick turned his back to her as well to watch.

  The first man lowered his hood, but all Mila could see was a head of thick, black hair. With a deliberately slow movement, he lowered the circlet onto his head with two hands, twitching slightly, as if a shock of pain had shot through him. She could see the circlet begin to glow with a purple light before he lifted the hood back in to place.

  Mila saw movement from below as Finn parted the bushes and stepped out behind the two men. He glanced up at her, making a finger gun at the hooded figure, then he pulled Fragar out and stepped up behind the Kashgar. He raised the axe’s handle with one hand, then lifted the other, holding up three fingers. He slowly lowered the first finger.

  Mila’s heart jumped in her throat as she realized he was counting down the attack.

  She quickly aimed the rifle at the hooded man’s back. The sound of howling and barking intensified as the hounds went wild. She glanced down and saw Finn’s second finger drop.

  The hooded man raised a hand, his fingers splayed, then closed it into a fist.

  The hounds fell silent and stood as still as statues.

  The sound of Fragar unfolding was plain as day in the sudden silence, making the Kashgar spin around and find Finn looming behind him.

  “Fire!” Finn shouted, slamming the flat of his axe into Fredrick’s face and knocking the man out cold.

  Mila pulled the trigger. The magical rifle bucked in her hands, but there was no loud crack of gunpowder, only the whoosh of the dart shooting out of the barrel, and the thwack of it hitting the hooded man in the shoulder.

  He stumbled forward, falling to a knee. Fredrick crumpled to the ground beside him.

  The hounds went wild once again as he lost control, the animals snarling with even more anger and determination than before. Many of the guards ventured closer to the pens while looking around for the problem.

  The man lowered his hood and turned angry, black eyes on Finn. He bared his teeth below his long, pointed nose, the short, greenish fur on his neck rising slightly, like a cat hissing at its prey.

  Mila realized he wasn’t an Orc at all. He was a Troll. And he looked familiar.

  The tranq dart should have put him down, but he didn’t seem to be getting tired at all. She lined up another shot, and the whoosh-thwap of another dart hitting home seemed to enrage him even more as he turned and spotted Mila on the roof.

  She saw his eyes soften before he turned and ran.

  “Intruders! In the trees!”

  His roaring voice carried over the snarling hounds and attracted the attention of every guard in the area.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Mila watched Finn start after the troll, but he stopped a few steps in, turning back to Mila, considering what to do.

  “Shoot as many guards as you can. We need to get out of here,” he shouted before charging the closest guard coming at him.

  Mila glanced at Penny, who had a worrie
d look on her face but gave her a sharp nod, obviously wanting to take off, but she stayed put for some reason. Mila tried her best, firing three shots before Finn met with the first guard and punched him full in the face, never stopping his full out sprint. The guard was slammed into the grass and didn't move after Finn was gone. Mila tried her best to hit the guards that were slowly circling around him, but it was too dark to pick them out once they left the light. She wasn't even sure she had hit one of them.

  She could see that Finn was leading them out into the open of the back yard of the estate. He wasn't sticking around long enough to get into any long exchanges that she could see. Instead, he would land a blow then move, making the growing group of Kashgar and Orcs have to reposition after each attack. However, they were closing the circle slowly.

  Mila had to roll up into a sitting position as he led them further back into the estate’s yard. The gun clicked, and she pulled the trigger again, and again it clicked empty. Penny tapped her knee with a fresh magazine.

  “I don't know if I’m doing any good here. I can't see the targets for shit in the dark.” Mila complained as she dropped the used mag and slammed a new one in. She glanced down, looking for the slide to chamber a round, forgetting the gun was magical and didn't have any mechanical parts. Sitting on the stock next to her hand was a lightning bug, lazily flashing with green light.

  An idea struck Mila. She had never really tried to ask an insect for anything more complicated than to leave or not bother her friends, but they seemed to be much more responsive lately. She decided to take a chance. If it didn't work, then it wouldn’t make things any worse than they already were.

  She leaned forward, lifting the bug closer to her. “Hey there, little man. You think you and your friends could do me a huge favor?”

  Finn kicked an orc in the nuts, lifting the seven-foot bastard off the ground a good foot and a half. The orc’s high-pitched scream was music to Finn’s ears.