Hector steps forward. “Your Majesty, I know you may be understandably upset with these two. However, I can assure you that what they did is considered a friendly welcome in the after-realms.”
“Do not worry, Hector,” states the King. “I have decided that this pair can make recompense.”
I raise my hand. “Will that involve breakfast?”
Zoar steps closer. “A boon made for a bounty paid, that’s the Law Primeval.”
“I heard. So. Breakfast?”
Zoar keeps talking as if I didn’t say a thing. “You’ve a strong life force. If I were a wizard, I could draw it into myself as magic. A special kind of harvest.”
“Okay, Eew.”
“Sadly there are no more wizards or apprentices remaining. The Contagion saw to that.”
I snap my fingers. “Gee, darn, drat. I always wanted to be harvested.”
“Sadly, it is not an option,” states Zoar. “Therefore, I make a different request. In exchange for the boon of my forgiveness, the bounty to be paid is that this breasty woman shall mate with me for the next year.”
I laugh my ass off. Big belly guffaws and everything. “That’s a big no. And I won’t even comment on the breasty thing.”
“This is promising,” declares Hector. “Laughter means she is most interested in your offer. At least, that’s how I recall it.”
I shake my head. “Clearly, you’ve been dead for a while.”
Zoar licks his lips. “Is this true?”
Lincoln moves to stand between me and Zoar. Good idea. I’m starting to wonder if blue feathers are edible.
“Myla and I came here for one reason only. The Contagion is on the move. He has consumed the first Marked One. Hector will be his next target. We must come up with a plan to stop the Contagion and protect Hector.”
Zoar waves his hand dismissively. “The Contagion has been trapped for centuries. There is nothing to fear.”
“That’s how things used to be,” I offer. “Then the Contagion consumed himself some Simian magic. Now he can gurgle his ass around, easy peasy.”
“Enough,” snaps Zoar. “Worrying about the Contagion is a waste of time.” He rounds on me yet again. “We must discuss how you’ll act during our mating year. Laughing is not acceptable. Neither is pushing my hands away. We Avians have our—”
I hold my hand up, palm forward. “Do not say traditions.”
“How did you guess? We even have a name for it.”
The hand stays up. “No, you don’t.”
“We call it the Avian Route.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. First the Rixa Way. Then the Purgatory Path. Now an Avian Route? What is this? Pick On Myla Month?” I elbow Lincoln. “Am I right or am I right?”
Lincoln doesn’t reply. His gaze is focused on the forest floor. I know my man. This particular look of his means hunting mode.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
That’s when I see it. The ground before us churns in a line across the forest floor. Something moves underground, and it’s closing in.
All of a sudden, the earth bursts as a cluster of blackened roots push through the ground. The tar-like appendages dig into the earth like so many arms, pulling up the remaining body up from the darkness. And in this case, that body is one very ticked off tree.
The Contagion is here.
Damn.
36
Lincoln
I can’t believe it. The Contagion just burst up from the ground like oil a gushing from a well. The tar quickly oozed into the shape of the massive tree. Now, a pair of long branches dangle by its side.
Arms.
After consuming Rule, the Contagion now has arms again.
This bodes ill.
Hector extends his wings and takes to the skies. A desire fills my soul. I have angel wings that appear as part of a certain rare ceremony. They are phantoms, nothing else. But what would it be like if my wings could fly like that?
It takes all my concentration, but I force my mind to focus on the fight at hand. In the heat of battle, odd thoughts can pop into your head. Recently, I had to press away the urge to scream a series of extremely creative and obscene insults at a Viperon demon. In that instance, I was only partially successful.
With all my focus, I watch Hector wings to the skies. It’s clear Hector was trained as a warrior after he became an angel. His form is perfect as he speeds away.
I exhale.
Hector has escaped.
Only he doesn’t.
What happens next takes place within a few heartbeats. Even so, every millisecond drags by as my mind soaks in each detail.
The Contagion’s branches shoot out, long and thin as ropes, and wrap around Hector’s feet. The angel fights to stay in flight, but it’s a losing proposition. The Contagion is simply too strong. In a whirl of movement, Hector is yanked from the skies. As with Rule, the Contagion opens his trunk-body and drags Hector inside. A flash of blue light shines within the Contagion’s interior as the incision closes.
It’s all over. Hector is gone.
For my part, I race toward the Contagion, ready to tear out Hector with my bare hands if need be. I don’t get more than a few steps before the Contagion sinks into the ground.
Zoar rounds on us, his entire body trembling with rage. “You brought this tar monster upon us!”
Myla points to the hole in the earth. It’s the only sign the Contagion was here. “That was not a random tar monster.”
I move to stand at Myla’s side. “As we warned you, the Contagion arrived.”
“Go!” cries Zoar. “Leave before I change my mind and kill you both!”
Myla chuckles. “I’d like to see that. What will you do, peck us to death?”
“GO!”
“Sheesh, what a grouch,” grumbles Myla. Together, we hustle off to the forest. In cases like these, it doesn’t do to either tarry or run like wild. Best to keep a steady pace that says, come after me and you’ll have trouble. After a half hour’s march under the blue trees, Myla and I pause.
“Riddle me this, Master Hunter,” says Myla. “Are they following us?”
I kneel down and set my fingertips against the earth. “No, they’re back in their village. Honestly, I suspect they’re glad to be rid of us.”
A figure drops from the trees, landing right before us.
It’s Peli.
“Miss me?” he asks.
It’s tempting to roll my eyes. Tempting, but not necessary as Myla beats me to it.
Time to chat with Peli.
37
Myla
A little recap here.
Lincoln and I just hauled our butts out of bird town. Now who should drop out of a freaking tree to say hello?
Peli.
Even worse, his little round face curls into a shit-eating grin.
“You didn’t kill the Contagion that time,” says Peli, Monkey Master of the Obvious.
I shrug. “He’s pretty speedy for a tree.”
“The next Marked One is the demon,” states Lincoln. “Can you lead us to where he is?”
“The demon lives with the Reptilians. They’re rather skittish. I can guide you somewhere for a proper introduction. They won’t try to kill you if I set things up correctly.”
“No killing with the intro,” I deadpan. “Good to know.”
Translation: I’m ticked off at you.
Peli lifts his hands. Orange smoke swirls across his palms. When the haze vanishes, he holds not one, not two, but five Demon Bars.
I slap on my best happy face. “Hello, best friend.”
Peli drops the delicious treats to the forest floor before taking to the trees. “Ready or not, here I go!” His orange form takes off into the branches.
Meh. I’m not worried about Peli zooming away. Lincoln can track down anything. Plus, I have more important stuff to contemplate right now.
Come to Momma, Demon Bars.
Leaning down, I scoop up my sweet treasures, t
hen turn to Lincoln. “Want one?”
“I’m fine.” He pulls some natural funk from a nearby bush. The thing looks pretty picked over.
“Are you sure that’s safe?”
“I saw the Avians eating these seeds before.”
“Who knew they ate?” Those folks looked skeleton-skinny.
Lincoln gestures to another mini-tree standing nearby. “I also noticed their water source. That fern has cup-like leaves which hold condensation… if you should get thirsty after your sugar high.”
“Wow, you were a busy boy last night.”
“I didn’t sleep well.”
For my guy, saying I didn’t sleep well is a big deal. It’s the equivalent of me having a ten minute tirade. I take a break from worshipping my Demon Bars to closely inspect Lincoln’s face. He doesn’t look particularly tired, but my guy is great at hiding stuff.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I’ve been seeing a version of myself as a Guide in my dreams. I seem to be attempting to provide self-advice about how to destroy the Contagion… as well as possibly avoid another disaster.”
“There’s another-nother disaster coming?”
“Perhaps. Hence the poor sleep.”
Stepping up, I set my palm against Lincoln’s cheek. He leans into my touch. “Here’s what going to happen. We’ll chop up this Contagion into little evil—yet useless—matchstick-sized chunks of enchanted tree. Then we’ll face the another-nother thing.”
“Matchstick-sized.” The ghost of a smile rounds Lincoln’s mouth. “How specific.”
“Hey, that’s how I roll.”
Lincoln sets his own palm against my own. “Thank you, Myla.”
“Any time. Pep talks are always free.”
Lincoln kisses the center of my palm. “We better catch up to Peli.
So that’s precisely what we do.
38
Lincoln
What a trail.
Following Peli through the woods proves rather interesting. Sometimes, he leaves a clear line of broken leaves and footprints to follow. In other instances, it takes all my tracking skill to determine his direction.
As in everything, Peli can’t help being a trickster.
Which brings me to the present moment. There’s no mistaking the chilly edge to the air. Night will fall soon. Myla and I follow Peli’s trail across the forest floor. Pale blue trees tower overhead. A few lonely beams of dying sunlight cut through the canopy, casting odd patterns onto the ground.
Then it all ends.
Once again, the landscape changes with the precision of a ruler. The indigo forest cuts off to be replaced by a vast desert of emerald sand. This isn’t a wasteland such as the place where we landed. Instead, the rolling dunes are perfectly sculpted into an undulating landscape that appears almost too beautiful to be real. My skins prickles over at the sight.
A familiar string of eee-eee noises sound from the branches above. With a thud, Peli falls leaps from a nearby tree to land beside me and Myla.
Peli stretches his arms wide. “Behold the Reptilian lands.”
“Are they expecting us?” I ask.
“Not exactly,” says Peli with a grin.
“Which means no,” counters Myla.
“They’ll be here soon in order to hold a little ceremony. Happens every month. I’ll introduce you to their king. You’ll ask to protect their Marked One. They’ll ask for a trade.”
I know this routine. “Boon made for a bounty paid.”
“Precisely,” states Peli.
Myla holds up her finger. “For the record, this trade thing is BS. Lincoln and I are here to protect their buddy the demon. The Reptilians should be paying us, not the other way around.”
Peli ticks his finger from side to side. It’s a no, no, no move if I ever saw one. “The Reptilians are keeping a demon named Spivey among them. He’s not one of their own. They don’t particularly care if the Contagion consumes Spivey and moves on. They know that the wizard must take in more Marked Ones before becoming a serious threat.”
“That’s totally short sighted,” says Myla.
Peli throws up his hands. “It’s the Law Primeval.”
“So how do we convince the Reptilians to take us seriously?” Myla asks.
Peli does a back flip followed by more eee-eee noises. “That’s your problem.”
“Nice, Peli,” deadpans Myla.
While they talk, I scan the horizon line. No sign of anyone in any direction. “How long before the Reptilians arrive?”
“Some time in the day or so. You’re welcome to make camp on the forest floor.” A sneaky gleam shines in Peli’s eyes as he says these words.
I’ve only known Peli for a few days, yet I’m familiar enough with the little monkey to realize one thing.
We should not make camp on the ground.
Myla has the same idea. She pats a nearby tree trunk. “I don’t see why we should reinvent the wheel here. The Avians live in trees. I’ve seen zero creatures with nests on the forest floor.”
My heart warms with a heady mixture of affection and pride. Myla has visited few woods in her lifetime, yet that insight was one many senior trackers might have missed.
Leaning back on my heels, I scan the trees above. “The higher branches are stout and relatively flat. That’s about as comfortable as trees get. Plus, we’ll also have a better view from up there.”
Myla nods. “We’ll see the Reptilians coming.”
“You’re no fun!” In a great display, Peli hops around while screeching. He even bites his tail. Myla and I share a dry look. This may take a minute.
At last, Peli stops. “The moon dreamers come out tonight. I was rather looking forward to you meeting them.”
“Moon dreamers,” I say slowly. “What a sweet name.”
“And you know what that means.” Myla rolls her eyes. “Only badass predators get cutesy names.”
“Spoilsport.” Peli lifts up his rounded chin and scales the nearest tree. With an extra chorus of screeching, he takes off into the forest.
“Should we go after him?” asks Myla.
“Not necessary,” I reply. “I suspect he needs to cause trouble at regular intervals. If we chase after him, he’ll only lead us into some kind of problem.” Stepping out from the line of trees, I inspect the sands nearest the forest line. “These were regularly dug up and replaced.”
“Really?”
“There’s an unnatural line in the dunes.”
Squinting, Myla stares at the area I pointed out. After a moment, she shakes her head. “I’ll take your word for it. Peli said there was a ritual here. Maybe that’s part of it.”
Myla and I share a quick glance followed by a small nod. Without further discussion, we scale up the closest tree we can find. In short order, we each find a decent branch and settle in with our backs against the trunk and our legs kicked forward.
Or rather, I settle in.
Myla fidgets on the branch above.
“Once again, I am somewhere that’s not designed for butts.” She rubs her upper thigh. “I’ll have bruises.”
“And?” I know my girl. Her rant isn’t over.
“I’m hungry again.”
“That’s the sugar leaving your system. Five Demon Bars in a row is a lot for anyone.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I can’t see Myla, but there’s no mistaking the sound of a smile in her voice.
And so we settle in for the night.
39
Myla
My tail sways below me.
Swish.
Swish.
Swish.
It’s like the tick-tock of a clock, marking the passage of empty time. Around me, the forest lies silent. Gentle breezes rustle the nearby leaves. Clouds obscure the moon. It all adds up to one conclusion.
This is one lonely branch.
Using my tail as a kind of anchor, I stick the arrowhead end into the branch beneath my feet. Stepping forward, I swing forwar
d until I stand upside-down and nose-to-nose with Lincoln.
“Hey,” I say.
Lincoln grins. “Hey.”
“Want company?”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “I’d love it.”
I do an awesome somersault flip and land so my back rests against Lincoln’s chest once more. This is rapidly becoming a trend.
Lincoln wraps his arms around my waist. Leaning forward, my guy kisses up the column of my neck.
Mmmm. This is getting fun.
Screech!
An unearthly sound echoes through the forest. The sound zooms right down my spine, setting off alarm bells throughout my nervous system. I shiver in surprise.
“What was THAT?” I ask.
“It appears the moon dreamers have arrived,” announces Lincoln.
Glancing down, I see the ground shift. The sight reminds me of a slow-moving river. The clouds roll past the moon, allowing beams to shine upon the forest floor.
What I see is nasty.
The ground is covered in bugs. And not just regular bugs, mind you. These are some kind of hybrid with an ant’s body and spider legs. Each one is large as a baseball.
A foul taste creeps into my mouth. “Freaking Peli,” I state. “If we’d slept on the ground, those would have crawled all over us. That thing—” I point to a particularly big bug “—could have skittered across my mouth.”
“The moon dreamers probably would have stripped us down as well. They’re leaving a swath of cleared forest behind them.”
“Classic Peli. Nothing painful, unless you count standing naked in a strange forest as pain.”
Down on the forest floor, a glimmer of color catches my eye. On their backs, the insects carry bits of leaves and other tiny junk. Yet what stood out to me so clearly? One bug carries a small scrap of yellow fabric. Being that everything here is blue, that color shines out like a spotlight. Even more surprising, the shade of yellow is particular to Antrum.
The yellow of Acca.
But how would a bug from the Primeval get a scrap of Acca fabric?
Trickster (Angelbound Lincoln Book 3) Page 14
