Trickster (Angelbound Lincoln Book 3)

by Christina Bauer

  I roll my eyes. Octavia is at it again. This is yet another stalling tactic. If she wanted me to show up at a certain time, why not just ask me? Not that I would have done it, but at least I’d have a choice.

  Whatever. I enter the hallway and pick my way toward the Sunshine Cavern, which is where the Trials of Acca will take place. It’s on Acca territory and dark as Hell, so of course it gets a name that sounds like window cleaning fluid.

  Well, if Octavia thinks she can stall me this way, she’s totally wrong. Lincoln told me the general direction to the Sunshine Cavern. It can’t be that hard to reach.

  Turns out, it’s totally that tough to find.

  It takes me for-freaking-ever to find the Sunshine Cavern. By the time I get there, the place is packed. In the crowd, I spy thrax nobles, some ghouls, and even a few angels. The space itself is no great shakes. It’s just a huge round cavern with a sloping floor and tons of shadows. The high side of the room makes a natural stage, which is where Aldred has set up a fancypants canopy. It’s one of those yellow numbers with fringe dangling around it.

  Why do you need a canopy in a cave? I really don’t know.

  The moment I step foot into the cavern, Octavia pushes her way through the crowd to greet me. We say our hellos and then Lincoln’s Mom gets right to it.

  “Apologies I made your arrival such a bore.”

  Well, Octavia certainly gets points for honesty. “What’s this about?”

  “Your tests.” Octavia twists her hands at her waistline. It’s a sure sign she’s worried. With any luck, Octavia is anxious because I’m about to fight a serious monster. Glad I wore my dragonscale fighting suit.

  “What kind of demon am I fighting today?”

  “Your trials won’t involve demons.”

  I fold my arms over my chest. “So what’s the test?”

  “Lady Bentford will give you an Interrogation of Manners. You must respond correctly to her queries or say: I am humiliated not to know the answer, Mistress.” She eyes me from head to toe. “Also, you need to wear an actual dress.”

  Dropping my arms, I take a half step backward. The dress-thing I expected, but the rest of this? Not so much.

  “Mistress?” I ask. “As in the she-version of Master? Are there a hidden cameras here? Is this a joke?”

  “Lady Bentford does more than brew saffronia. A branch of her family went ghoul.”

  “Captain Rule.” I’d go into the whole story about yesterday but meh. “He’s around here somewhere.”

  “Indeed, Rule is in attendance. He still holds great sway in Purgatory. If Rule were to say soul processing needed reform, that could help your parents.”

  “Mom and Dad say they’ve got it handled.”

  “But Lady Bentford could also make the Interrogation of Manners long or short. Just state, I am humiliated not to know the answer, Mistress. Do that, and Lady Bentford promises to limit herself to three questions. That is a reasonable test.”

  The Mistress thing is a total no go. But I’ve been with Lincoln a little while. Maybe this quiz won’t be too bad. I picture the list of questions.

  What do thrax do? Fight demons.

  What’s the High Prince’s name? Lincoln.

  Who won the Greatest Warrior in Antrum? Me, me, and me.

  Excitement sparks in my chest. This could be fun.

  “Can I answer these questions?”

  “No.”

  “Give me an example.”

  “If you insist,” says Octavia. “When attending a formal event with all of court in attendance, what is the correct amount of ankle that can be exposed?”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “It’s a trick question. According to the Rixa Way, you must have your ankles, knees, and shoulders covered at all times.”

  “Meaning, there’s no way I’ll answer these questions.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Glad we cleared that up. I’m out of here.”

  “Please. Is your pride so lofty you can’t say a simple phrase three times?”

  “No way. You just sprang this on me at the last second, thinking that I’d cave in and do this Mistress Quiz. I understand your friends give you crap about me and the super important Rixa Way. But this is not happening.”

  Octavia lifts her chin. “We all have to adapt eventually. Look at me today. Do you think I acted in this manner back when I was a lady warrior?”

  “Yeah, I totally think you did.”

  Octavia sighs. Heh, heh. I totally nailed that one. “We all must compromise, Myla.”

  “Hey, I’m compromising. Who isn’t sending Aldred to Hell right now? That would be me. And it’s because I respect your courts and traditions. Another example. Who didn’t spit out the most disgusting drink I ever put in my mouth? Me again. I should be getting a medal here.”

  The echo of trumpets sounds. “The event is about to begin,” says Octavia. “Will you consider my words?”

  I pin Lincoln’s mother with my most serious stare. “Oh, you can count on it.”

  28

  Lincoln

  The Sunshine Cavern is packed. Hundreds of thrax nobles fill the huge round cave. I scan the room, cataloguing all the faces. As expected, my warriors and magic users blend in perfectly with the crowd. For his part, Aldred stands beneath an ornate canopy across the cavern.

  No sign of Myla, though.

  I lean into a fissure on the rock wall. This way, the shadows conceal me while providing a nice view of the entire cavern. At last, I spy Myla speaking with Mother by a side entrance. Octavia must have cornered Myla the moment my girl stepped into the cave.

  Not good.

  Kicking off the wall, I make a beeline for my fiancée. I try to push forward, but the chamber is packed. In addition, this is a noble crowd, so they’re less likely to melt into the shadows as I pass by. If anything, the reverse is true. As I push through, people pull at my tunic, asking questions and demanding favors. I wave them off and keep pressing on. A familiar figure appears.

  Octavia.

  She must have finished with Myla and sped straight for me. I pause and incline my head. “Mother.”

  “Son.”

  “What’s all this?” They are three simple words, but a world of meaning lies behind them. The short version says, I know you’re scheming, and I need your true plans.

  Mother straightens the folds of her velvet dress. “Myla won’t fight demons today,” explains Octavia. “Instead, Lady Bentwood will perform an interrogation of manners.”

  My eyes widen a fraction. It’s a small gesture, but I’m certain Mother sees it. Inside, my soul churns with a heated mixture of outrage and worry. Myla doesn’t deserve to be treated this way by any thrax, let alone a noble of my own house. No question what this is really about.

  “Myla will never change for you.”

  Mother sighs. “Everyone adapts eventually.”

  Lowing my voice, I step closer to Mother. “Do not place yourself between me and Myla. There is no competition. None.”

  Without saying another word, I step off into the crowd.

  At last, I reach my girl. Pulling her into my arms, I hold Myla close. “Hello, lovely,” I whisper.

  “Hey, you.”

  “Mother told me about Lady Bentford. It’s outrageous.”

  “Octavia’s scheming. It happens.”

  Leaning back, I get a good look at Myla’s face. She doesn’t seem upset. While I’m glad that this betrayal isn’t bothering my fiancée, it doesn’t change the fact that the entire situation is unacceptable.

  “You’re not doing that Interrogation of Manners.”

  Myla winks. “Not even a little?”

  Some of the heat cools within me. “If you use the opportunity to verbally torture Lady Bentford, then obviously, it’s a different story.”

  “I’ll figure something out. By the way, I tried to find that ghoul Peli wanted, but came up with nothing.”

  “I’ve other news on the Peli front. Our littl
e orange friend cast some spells on me. I went to the past to learn more about the Primeval.”

  “Anything good?”

  “Not the firm evidence I need to stop today from happening. I did discover that the Contagion is indeed a wizard who’s trapped in a tree. He can’t move around much.”

  “And if he does?”

  “I have the place packed with warriors and magic users. If the Contagion attacks, we’ll be ready.”

  Across the cavern, Aldred raises his arms. The space quiets. Clearly, the event is about to begin. Tension winds up my spine.

  “My thrax!” calls Aldred. “Welcome to the Trials of Acca!” He pauses. Polite clapping echoes through the chamber. I wonder how many folks here have been blackmailed by Aldred.

  Virtually all of them, I’d guess.

  Speaking of those Aldred is blackmailing, my father isn’t in attendance today. Can’t say I’m surprised.

  The light applause collapses into silence. Aldred continues. “Lady Bentwood will start this session with an Interrogation of Manners. Assisting her will be her guest and relative, Captain Rule from the Dark Lands.”

  My gaze locks on the ghoul. I hadn’t noticed him before in particular. Now I scan him with an extra level of intensity. Sure enough, he looks like an undead Lady Bentford in a long black cloak.

  I pitch my voice low, careful so only Myla can hear me. “Are you familiar with this captain?”

  Myla nods. “Met him yesterday.”

  “Is he the one Peli spoke of?” I ask.

  Myla shakes her head. “I checked his shoulder. No marks.”

  My brows lift. “How did you find that out?”

  “Not easily. I ended up checking ghoul shoulders for hours last night at the Scala Bleugh.” She shivers. “Long story.”

  Across the cavern, a small orange face pops up over the canopy’s top.

  Peli.

  Grinning, the monkey taps his shoulder. It’s almost as if the little guy were listening to me and Myla as we chat. Something to test out.

  “Marks,” I say.

  Sure enough, Peli taps his shoulder again.

  Myla narrows her eyes. We don’t discuss this topic, but I’ve no doubt she’s with me here.

  “Marks, marks, marks,” repeats Myla.

  Peli taps three times.

  “Two things,” says Myla. “First. Peli is enjoying this far too much.”

  “And second,” I add. “Peli clearly has a surprise for us when it comes to marks.”

  Myla frowns. “I hate surprises. Unless I’m the one giving them.”

  “Agreed.”

  Across the chamber, Aldred pipes up once more. “After the Interrogation of Manners, I shall perform the Igni Validation test.”

  That’s news to me. “Were you aware of this?” I ask Myla.

  “Yeah, Cissy told me all about it. The thing is totally fake and—surprise, surprise—when I fail, I can no longer be involved in combat in any way, shape, or form. Like that will happen.”

  Aldred waves his across the crowd. The motion reminds me of a carnival barker at a human circus. “And finally, my thrax. We shall end the day with my killing the dreaded tree beast of the Primeval.”

  At this point, an door beside the canopy swings open. Minstrels step out, playing a happy jig on their lutes.

  Demon tree

  Demon tree

  Aldred fighting

  Aldred smiting

  Demon tree

  Demon tree

  Tra la la la LA

  Ugh. Aldred really has the worst taste in minstrels.

  As the tune continues, Peli hops down from the canopy. As always, everyone else is oblivious to the existence of our small orange friend.

  “Uh oh,” whispers Myla. “He’s on the move.”

  Seconds later, a wall of orange mist appears before the entire back wall of the cavern. Bands of concern tighten around my chest. Myla and I share a worried look.

  “He’s not doing what I think he’s doing, is he?” she asks.

  Across the cavern, the orange haze congeals into a great disc, ten feet high. The minstrels and choir fall silent. No question about it. Everyone can see this part.

  A gateway has appeared.

  Aldred hustles through the audience to stand before the new and magical addition. “Behold! Another gateway to the Primeval. I decided to open it early.”

  Total lie, but my nobles buy it completely. For his part, Peli is having the time of his life. The little guy glances our way and winks.

  “I’m starting to hate that monkey,” grumbles Myla.

  “It seems we’re hitting the dangerous tree portion of the day early,” I state.

  A loop of orange metal solidifies around the edges of the portal. The center remains filled with the same orange smoke I’ve come to know so well. The spell isn’t finished.

  “I don’t like this,” I state.

  “Do we move in?” asks Myla.

  “Not yet. It depends what appears in the central window. Rushing up might cause a panic.”

  Little by little, the view within the gateway comes into clearer focus.

  Oh, no.

  29

  Lincoln

  The center of the gateway becomes clear as glass. A vista appears inside, revealing the view of a gray wasteland filled with burnt-out trees. In its center looms a tall stump whose bark lives and moves, reminding me of shifting ropes of tar.

  The Contagion.

  Back in the cavern, I let out a short burst of whistles. That’s the cue for my warriors and magic users to usher people to safety.

  “No, my thrax!” cries Aldred. “Cease heading for the exits. There is nothing to fear. Besides, I have magically sealed the doors here. No one leaves until my demonstration is complete!”

  Myla shoots me a worried look. “Can we break down the doors?”

  “My magic users have instructions to try.” I scan the back of the cavern. A thin haze of orange magic hangs in the air. My best Striga wizards cast spells by the back wall, yet the exit doors remains closed. “It’s not working.” I wave my hand through the light haze of Primeval magic that fills the air. The tiny particles shift and dance in the breeze. “Peli said his magic interacts strangely with the after-realms.”

  “It must be blocking our own casters.” Myla frowns. “I bet Peli and Aldred planned this. The earl would know there’d be other magic users around.”

  A sinking feeling moves inside me. I decided to trust Peli even though I knew the little orange monkey was scheming with the earl. What have I done?

  I straighten my shoulders and steel my spine. Whatever decisions I made, standing around now won’t change them. I take Myla’s hand. Her touch grounds me. As king and queen, we’ll make thousands of choices. Some will fail. We’ll always move forward.

  And that’s what we do now.

  Hand in hand, Myla and I press toward the front of the cavern. All the while, we’re careful to weave through the crowd at a steady pace. No need to cause a panic.

  Within the gateway, the gooey black tar moves faster. The burned out stump that is the Contagion pulses with energy. Deep holes collapse, forming what look like eyes. A great slash opens for a mouth. The Contagion lets out a roar of rage.

  “I am the wizard Contagion! Who disturbs my slumber?”

  Aldred steps closer to the gateway. “It is I, Aldred, the great Earl of Acca. I come here to destroy you.”

  Two thin nostril-holes appear on the Contagion’s bark. The lines vibrate as the wizard tree inhales deeply. The Contagion’s long mouth curls into an impossibly long smile. “The first Marked One. It’s here.”

  Across the cavern, a figure steps out of the shadows beside the gateway.

  Rule.

  The ghoul lurches with all the jerky grace of a sleepwalker. A glazed sheen covers his all-black eyes.

  Myla pauses. “Can Rule cross through that gateway?”

  I picture all the times the Contagion punched through gateways in the Primeval
. Each time, his branch-like arms struck a different apprentice with ease.

  “Oh, yes,” I reply.

  Myla’s tail pokes a young noblewoman in the side, forcing her out of our path. “Ouch!” She rubs at the spot.

  “Your tail has the right idea,” I say.

  Myla winks. “I love pushy-shovey time.”

  Forget a steady pace. Myla and I now race toward the gateway. If people get in our way, they’re moved.

  Ten yards to go until we reach the gateway.

  Five yards.

  One.

  Up ahead, Rule pulls at the neckline of his ghoul robes. The motion exposes an expanse of all-white skin. “I am a Marked One!” Rule cries. “I must reunite with the Contagion!”

  Fortunately, Rule is not a Marked One. That would require actually having a skull tattoo. Unfortunately, he’s clearly bonkers.

  At last, Myla and I reach the gateway. Leaping in unison, we land right between Rule and the gateway’s window-like view of the Contagion.

  While bracing her legs, Myla presses her hands against Rule’s chest. Leaning over, I shove my shoulder against his stomach. Even so, Rule moves closer to the gateway. For a ghoul, he’s rather strong.

  “You don’t want to do this,” I warn. “Whatever you think, you don’t belong in the Primeval.”

  Rule inhales. “Can you taste the magic on the air?”

  That’s a hard thing to do, what with my shoulder lodged against Rule’s belly, but I also take in a long breath. I’ve had enough Primeval magic tossed at my face to know when it’s getting heavier. There’s no denying the truth. Rule is right.

  With every inch we get closer to the gateway, the Primeval magic grows stronger. Not good for our side.

  Rule keeps a death grip on the neckline of his ghoul robes. With all his strength, he pushes still closer to the gateway.

  “Lincoln!” Shock heightens Myla’s tone.

  Alarm zooms through my nervous system. I stand up while gripping Rule’s shoulders—this way I can keep the ghoul back while seeing Myla face to face.