Trickster (Angelbound Lincoln Book 3)

by Christina Bauer

  I slide out of bed and grab my dragonscale fighting suit. The thing is getting a little rank, but it’s not like I have a lot of choices right now.

  “Eyes on the prize,” I state. “We need to get our game faces on. Salientian must realize the threat from the Contagion.”

  “You’re right. Game faces.” Lincoln cracks his neck. “The process probably begins by getting clothed.”

  My stomach rumbles. Now that I’m rested, my hunger is coming back with a vengeance.

  Salientian better be reasonable or I won’t be responsible for what happens next.

  A hangry Myla is a dangerous Myla.

  50

  Lincoln

  Myla and I enter the feasting hall. It’s another space very much like our chambers, only far larger. Once again, there’s a lot of green everything as well as questionable use of window treatments. Sadly, the meal consists of more deep fried moon dreamers.

  Myla sets her napkin over her bug bowl. I don’t blame her.

  “I’ll just sit here,” says Myla. “That way, I can work hard on not killing anyone.”

  “Excellent plan,” I state. “I’ll speak with Spivey.” I nod toward a far corner of the feasting hall where the demon in question paws at the wallpaper.

  “Good luck.”

  When it comes to Whinus demons, your best bet is to be direct and quick. That’s why I make a beeline for Spivey’s spot.

  “Greetings, Spivey.”

  “Ugh.” Spivey drops his hands from the wallpaper. “I almost caught a spider. You frightened it away.”

  “I’m here to discuss your safety. Myla told you the Contagion is free and consuming those who store his power. As a Marked One, you’re the next target.”

  “That mark so ugly, too.” Spivey lifts up a flap of fur, showing off the image of a demon’s face just below his shoulder. “Every morning, I must brush everything just so to cover it up.”

  “There are greater things at work here. The Contagion is on his way. You need protection. Even if you aren’t worried, perhaps you don’t mind Myla and I protecting you?”

  “I need all the help I can get. No one talks to me. People avoid me. If you’re my personal guard, will you help me find more insects?”

  “Focus, Spivey. Myla and I want to guard you. Where can we obtain some weapons?”

  “Didn’t you see them in the cavern where you ent—” Spivey clears his throat. “How would I know anything about weapons? They don’t tell me anything. I’m so lonely except for my bug collection. It’s hard to get good insects, too. The Reptilians eat them all. You don’t have any pins with you, do you?”

  That was a lot of Spivey speaking without breathing. “Pins?”

  “For sticking the bugs to my wall. It’s very had to get after-realm style pins around here.”

  “No, I’m fresh out.”

  “What a shame. Nothing ever goes right for me.”

  My thoughts tick through Spivey’s revelation about weapons and that cavern. Where could those weapons be? That’s when I realize the truth.

  The backpacks.

  I saw rows of them along the cavern floor. Those packs must carry small weapons. Perhaps Myla and I can revisit that spot after the feast and load up. It’s a good first step.

  “Don’t bother me anymore,” says Spivey. “I’m fine here with the Reptilians. Why do you keep acting like there’s some kind of problem? It’s very upsetting.” He sets his hands on his belly. “My bowels are churning.”

  I indulge in a little fantasy of punching Spivey in the throat. Satisfying.

  “Salientian should care,” I begin. “Other realms are short on food. Doesn’t that concern you here? If the Reptilians could regain your magic users, perhaps that would be helpful.”

  “Bah, we’ve enough underground stores to last for years. Dried toads, pickled cactus, vats of fresh water… we’re all set. Let the other lands fend for themselves.”

  “Eventually, those stores will run out. You know that, right?”

  “Why do you keep pestering me with questions? It’s giving me a migraine.” Spivey points back to the feasting table. “Ah, the king has risen from his seat. Now you’ll find out what he really wants.”

  Spivey brushes his palms, setting his curved talons clacking against each other. He rushes back to the main feasting table.

  What an annoying creature.

  After indulging in one more punching fantasy starring Spivey, I march back to my own seat at the feast. With every step closer, my warrior sense goes on a higher level of alert.

  Something’s about to happen, and it won’t be good.

  51

  Myla

  Everyone ignores me, which is good. Then lady Grabs-A-Lot stops by.

  “You’re not eating your meal,” she says.

  My eyes blaze demon red. “No.”

  When Grabs-A-Lot next speaks, there’s a quiver to her voice. “I’ll just leave you alone now.”

  “That would be safest.”

  Not sure how long I sit there and try not to hurt anyone, but at some point, Lincoln returns.

  “Salientian is about to speak,” my guy says gently.

  The feasting hall is silent. Everyone seems to be staring at me. “What?” I snap.

  Salientian stands at the head of the table. Maybe he’s been there for a while. Hard to say. My focus is a little all over the place right now.

  The king gestures in my direction. “I’ll say it again. You may fight the Contagion, but I wish something in return from the girl.”

  Lincoln takes my hand. “Try not to kill anyone.”

  My stomach rumbles. “No guarantees.”

  Salientian gestures toward me. “Are you willing to follow the Law Primeval? A boon made for a bounty paid?”

  I point to my face. “Not mating anyone.”

  “What?” Salientian chuckles. Since he’s Reptilian, it comes out as more of an ack-ack-ack noise. “No, that’s ridiculous.”

  I shoot him a thumbs-up. “Good call.”

  “I was more focused more on your hair.”

  On reflex, I pat my head. “My hair?”

  “We’ve never seen that shade before. Everything here is green. I should like to make a wig from it.”

  I speak to Lincoln from the side of my mouth. “Did he just say wig?”

  “He did,” confirms my guy.

  “You do not seem pleased,” states Salientian. “Are you soul bound to another? If so, we’ll need to summon them forth at the same time in order to cut their hair. It’s a simple process, really”

  I look to Lincoln. “What is he talking about?”

  “I saw this with Peli. It’s where you get linked to another person with Primeval magic.”

  “Well?” asks Salientian.

  “There are no Primeval spells on me. Honestly, I’m still stuck on your original ask here. Did you say hair?”

  “If you wish our help, that will be the price.” Salientian snaps his fingers. “Servants! Now!”

  Reptilians step toward me, all of them holding their Sweeney Todd style razor blades high. Lady Grabs-A-Lot leads the group.

  Ugh. That’s what they were doing in our bedroom—sizing up my hair for a wig.

  Rising, I point right at Grabs-A-Lot. “Ho, there!”

  In a bad move for her own safety, Grabs-A-Lot slows down, but doesn’t actually stop.

  “Here’s the deal,” I continue. “I haven’t eaten in a while. Do you know what that does to someone like me? Not good stuff. So back off with the razors and answer a simple question first. What do you eat around here that’s not bugs? I need a decent snack and some time to think. After that, we can not-cut my hair and figure out how to kill the Contagion. In that order.”

  Nice work, me. That was a very mature and clear set of statements. Everyone remains vertical. No one’s bleeding.

  Salientian lets out a long hiss. “This is taking too long.” He points at me. “I offer you a boon made for a bounty paid. You must accept it wi
thout question.”

  “Oh, I’m questioning!” I cry. “Why do you need anything when we—” I gesture between me and Lincoln, just to make things clear “—are doing you a favor?”

  “I said, no questions.” Salientian raises his chin. “Certain actions are unacceptable in the presence of royalty. That’s the cradle of our lifestyle. It’s what we call the Reptile’s Nest. You’re disturbing that.”

  Frustration and hunger boil inside me. This isn’t going well. “You mean capital R-reptile, capital N-nest, I’m guessing?”

  “Yes,” answers Salientian. “The Reptile’s Nest is an ancient code of conduct and and you’re tearing it apart with your unreasonable attitude. Not that I’m surprised. The Avians said you brought in a tar monster to destroy their village.”

  “That was the Contagion!” I yell.

  “No,” snaps Salientian. “It was a creature made of moving black oil.”

  “That is the Contagion,” states Lincoln. “The old wizard is changing as he consumes new Marked Ones.”

  Do I love how my guy has my back? You bet, I do.

  CRACK!

  Long breaks form along the ceiling. Black goop oozes through the jagged fissures. The scent of death and rot fills the air.

  All the Reptilians freeze. Not me.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I ask Lincoln.

  “Yes.”

  “Thank fuck.” My tail arcs over my shoulder. Battle stance. “If I can’t eat, at least I can kill something.”

  With one great leap, I land atop the dinner table. Dishes clatter and Reptilians stay frozen in fear. Battle excitement thrums through me.

  The Contagion is on his way? Yes.

  52

  Lincoln

  Tar-covered branches tear through the roof of the feasting hall. Chunks of stone break loose and tumble down, smashing up plates and snapping apart tables.

  “What kind of monster is this?” cries Salientian.

  A newly formed hole yawns in the rock ceiling. More branches curl out from the opening, spreading out across the rock like so many arms. A voice echoes out of the darkness.

  “I am the wizard Contagion!”

  Salientian rounds on me and Myla. “A tar monster is invading. You’ve brought this creature upon us.”

  Myla points to the ceiling. “Hey, the thing already said it’s name. The Contagion. Con. Tag. Ion.”

  Salientian slaps his webbed hands atop his skull. “We have been betrayed!”

  Fresh chunks of stone drop to the floor. The tar-covered branches reach out farther.

  “Everyone,” cries Salientian. “Make for the escape tunnels!”

  Moving in unison, the slimy branches swoop down. The many appendages have one goal.

  Spivey.

  Fast as a whip, the hefty cords wrap up Spivey from head to toe, then drag him into the freshly-made hole in the stone ceiling. No question about it. The Contagion is growing faster and more powerful.

  It all happens so quickly, Spivey doesn’t even have a chance to cry out.

  53

  Myla

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Great chunks of rock tumble from the ceiling, shattering the fancy wooden floor into kindling. Reptilians screech and run in all directions.

  I have to hand it to Salientian. Dude is calm in a crisis.

  “Remember the evacuation protocol!” calls Salientian. “Find your nest mates. Make for the main escape tunnel. It’s the most fortified.”

  The Reptilians instantly calm. Boulders still crash around them, but they organize into groups and speed off in a single direction.

  Salientian points to me and Lincoln. “Follow us.”

  Lincoln nods. “We’ll be with you.”

  I know how my guy thinks. He’ll want to help people escape and round up any stragglers.

  Salientian grins, and the move shows off his pointy teeth. “Once we’re above ground, I’ll personally flay the skin from both of you. That’s the bounty paid for bringing this destruction upon my people.”

  “Flaying. Got it.” I look to Lincoln. “Know how to escape the way we came in?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Turning, Lincoln and I run in the opposite direction from the rest of the Reptilians. In my peripheral vision, I catch Salientian watching us go, his head shaking slowly. The king so thinks we’re about to die.

  He might not be wrong.

  More chunks of stone break free from the ceiling. The air fills with a heavy mixture of grit and dust. My pulse speeds. All my focus narrows to the path ahead.

  At last, I spy the archway where we originally entered.

  Snap!

  The wall above the arch splits in a dozen places at once, tearing the fancy wallpaper into lumps. Beneath the arch, the wooden panel buckles and splinters. Sweat beads along my spine as Lincoln and I reach the door.

  Locked.

  Not an issue. Lincoln and I have been in similar situations before. Both of us set our weight onto our left legs while kicking forward with our right. The door bursts open.

  Low rumbles sound as the rock wall finally collapses, the deep notes accented with the staccato crackle of the wood breaking apart.

  We race forward.

  The moment Lincoln and I pass through the doorway, the entire wall behind us implodes with the loudest boom yet. My ears ring with the impact.

  We race into the cavern. This one is a little more stable considering how there’s no ceiling above us. That’s one bonus of being a massive sinkhole, I guess. Even so, that will only buys us a few minutes.

  High pitched pings sound as one by one, the ladders snap from the wall. Lengths of metal slam onto the nearby ground. Out of six ladder paths to the surface, only one remains standing.

  This is getting dicey.

  Lincoln and I race toward the final ladder. Along the way, we grab a pair of dusty backpacks from the floor.

  Then we climb upward.

  All around us, the walls are an odd thatch of broken ladder segments. The rock around us shifts, sending fresh bands of metal breaking loose. Bolts zing free with all the power of a bullet from a gun before slamming into the walls nearby. One scrapes my shoulder.

  My dragonscale suit holds, but for how long?

  The world collapses into the simple actions of climbing as fast as possible. Lincoln reaches the top first. Turning about, he offers me his hand.

  All Hell breaks loose.

  Or more accurately, the ladder.

  One moment, I stand on a metal slat. The next, there’s nothing but air beneath me. Reaching forward, I hook my fingertips with Lincoln’s. The ladder tumbles free below me. My hold with Lincoln slips.

  No, no, no.

  Lincoln reaches his free hand forward. My tail arches up, the arrowhead end slapping firmly against Lincoln’s palm. With this new double grip, Lincoln hauls me onto the desert floor. Sunlight floods my vision, making it hard to focus.

  I flip onto my back and catch my breath.

  “Let’s—” pant, pant “—never do that again.”

  All Hell breaks loose, part two.

  The desert floor slides toward the sinkhole. For a moment, my mind blanks wth shock. Then it hits me. The caverns underneath us are collapsing. If the Reptilians lived miles below the surface, then it might not be a big deal.

  But they don’t.

  And it is.

  All around us, the ground careens toward the sinkhole, reminding me of sand in an hourglass. I try to stand and get my footing. No dice. I keep sliding toward the sinkhole once again.

  Fuck fuck fuckity FUCK fuck.

  54

  Lincoln

  The desert pulls me and Myla inexorably downward. This must be what a beam of light would experience when ensnared by a black hole.

  My pulse thuds against my rib cage. Gripping Myla’s hand, I race away from the tumbling sands.

  It isn’t easy.

  My legs burn with the effort. Sweat streams into m
y eyes. I focus on two things—moving forward and keeping my hand firmly with Myla’s.

  It seems to take forever, but eventually Myla and I move past the impact area of the cave in. We collapse onto the sands, gasping for breath. Nearby, more of the desert slides away with an ominous hiss.

  Heat makes me lightheaded. My pale skin burns under the unforgiving sun. I want to lay here and sleep.

  That’s not an option.

  We must get moving.

  Sitting up, I swing off my backpack and dig inside. Say what you want about the Reptilians, they know how to pack for emergencies.

  Myla stays sprawled on the sands, reminding me of a starfish that washed ashore. “What have we won?”

  I put on my best game show host voice. “Inside bag number one, we have a dagger and holster.”

  “Sweet.”

  I dig deeper. “Also, a map.”

  “Even better.”

  I pull out a jar. Myla turns to me, her right brow quirked. “Is that food, by chance?”

  After twisting off the lid, I examine the contents. “Pickled cactus.” I pull out a chunk and pop it in my mouth. “Tastes like chicken.”

  “Really?”

  “No, but it wasn’t a bug in a former life.” I pull out another jar and jiggle it a motion that says, want one?

  Myla raises her hand. “I’m game.”

  I toss Myla the container, she opens and eats. “How is it?” I ask.

  “Like old cardboard that got soaked in embalming fluid.” Myla fishes her canteen from her own pack. While pinching her nose, Myla chews with her mouth open. Once she gets a bite down, she guzzles the water. The process continues.

  Chew, swallow, water, repeat.

  My girl hasn’t eaten anything vaguely nutritious in a while. Even though Myla’s a demon, she can’t consume the equivalent of chemically treated air and not have it back up eventually. Once I’m certain she’s taken enough of a meal, I spread out the map and get a closer look. Takes me a bit to get my bearings.