Dragon Shadow

by Alicia Wolfe

  “That’s terrible,” she said, and I could tell that she believed me one hundred percent. Good. That would save time. She opened her mouth to say something else, but we heard a great commotion—screaming and crashing—and both our heads snapped in that direction.

  “Shit,” I said. “It’s already started.”

  “What—what—?”

  Jessela pressed her lips together, and I could almost see it, her training taking over. She was a Fae Knight, after all, highly disciplined and lethal in battle.

  “This way,” she said, a new note of command in her voice. She dashed in the direction of the noise, her armor only clinking slightly as she went. She drew her sword with a steely rrrring. When I heard that noise, so clean and pure and deadly, I wanted a sword, too.

  We burst out into a courtyard. It was probably a lovely place, normally, with tall beautiful trees of a kind I’d never seen before nodding beside a gurgling stream that appeared to flow through the palace itself, with white swans and other majestic but less recognizable animals hanging out in the water or on the tall, soft grass. At the moment, however, two huge trolls were doing battle against half a dozen Fae Knights and a handful of regular Fae.

  As I watched, three knights were evading the stamping feet of one troll while their swords hacked at its legs and waist—which was as high as they could reach on the thing. It towered twenty feet overhead, as did its companion. They were both great brutes with thickly muscled arms and bristly hair sticking up all over. Fortunately the hair was thick enough to mask their groins for the most part, because they had ripped their clothes to shreds when they’d transformed. And I completely believed they had transformed, that they’d looked just like regular people a few minutes ago.

  Becoming a troll evidently shaved a few points off their IQs, though, because they didn’t fight with sophisticated weapons or any coordination or strategy. One troll had ripped up a tree and was smashing the ground where the knights stood, forcing them to scatter, while the other simply tried to step on them, receiving many nicks and slashes for its trouble. One knight had already been crushed by its feet, though, and lay embedded in the grass, while blood coated the limbs of the tree the other wielded. Brute strength worked just fine for these assholes.

  Jessela lifted an arm, and a beam of light shot out from her palms and struck the tree-wielder in the chest. It was the same sort of magical attack I’d seen Davril do when the vampires ambushed me and abducted Ruby. The beam of light only glanced off the troll’s chest. Evidently it had a magical ward protecting it.

  Jessela gave a frustrated growl and dashed toward the troll. It was just bringing its tree around in a swing to take out several Fae who were recovering their feet after dodging its last swipe. I almost cried out for Jessela to stop, that she’d be killed, but I didn’t. She was doing her duty, and she was brave and righteous to do so. The question was how could I help?

  I cast about for answers, momentarily wishing I had my crossbow. Then I realized that a crossbow bolt would probably bounce off these things even quicker than a magical blast would.

  I patted my utility belt, trying to determine what spellgredients I had left. Thank God Jessela had thought to bring it back to me. Mm, spider eyes could be mixed with the ginshi root to hurl a green ball of ice, but if the troll’s protective wards could repel Fae energy blasts, they could probably handle the magical ball of ice, too. I had to think of something else fast.

  Jessela had reached the troll, and she slashed at its wrist as it brought the tree toward the targeted Fae. I thought she’d been aiming for the big vein in the wrist, but her angle was off and her sword only drew a deep line of red. The troll howled in rage, though, and pulled its arm up, breaking off the swing that would have killed those Fae. Jessela shouted something up at it in Faeish that I thought might be something like Take that, you bastard! to judge by her tone.

  Meanwhile, the Fae that had almost been obliterated were able to stand up and regroup. Some drew weapons or began spells. One rushed toward a Fae who lay crumpled and unmoving on the ground, probably trying to administer aid. By all the blood on the grass near him, I didn’t think the helper could do much.

  The sword worked, I realized. The enchanted blades of the Fae Knights could cut through the trolls’ defenses. Was there some way I could use that?

  Yes. There was.

  “Jessela!” I shouted and ran toward her. I had to navigate around the other troll that was stomping at people to get to her, though. One of those giant hairy feet hoisted off the ground and hovered right over me. I only just barely leapt to the side as it came crashing down. Mud and grass flew, and I spat dirt from my mouth as I climbed to my feet. Not bothering to look back, I ran toward Jessela. She was busy hacking at the knees of the tree-wielder, but when she saw my expression she drew aside.

  “Yes?” she panted. Her face was red and droplets of sweat beaded her auburn hair. Troll blood dripped from her blade.

  “Hold your sword out,” I said. With a raised eyebrow, she obeyed.

  “Whatever you’re doing, do it fast,” she told me.

  We were only about twenty feet from the troll, nearly within range of its tree. Fortunately it was preoccupied with dealing with the knights attacking it. At least for the moment.

  I pinched some powder from one pouch and mixed it with some from another, then added in the secretion from a giant gala bird. My fingers shook as I worked, but I was used to managing my digits under stress (I’d be a pretty bad cat burglar if I wasn’t) and I was able to keep going. Physically, anyway. Mentally, I was freaking out. Hurriedly mixing it all together in my mixing pool, I thrust my fingers into the bowl, then smeared the poisonous goop along the length of Jessela’s blade.

  “That should do it,” I said, then wiped my fingers on the grass.

  Jessela gazed at her poisoned blade for a moment, nodded, then rushed off to battle. She lowered her head as the tree came at her again, this time bearing two thrashing Fae bodies, cleared it, and popped up near the troll’s right leg. It saw her and started to draw its leg back for a kick, but it was slow and she was as fast as a hummingbird. Her sword darted out, slashed the troll across the shin, and it bellowed so loudly that the windows lining the courtyard burst inward.

  I jumped back, pressing my hands over my ears. Jessela and the other Fae Knights stared up in surprise at the troll. So did the other troll, with its leg raised high in preparation for stomping on more Fae. It recovered and resumed its stomp, but the Fae it had been about to grind into paste had time to roll to the side and escape it. The foot came down hard, sending out a geyser of mud and grass but causing no harm.

  The troll Jessela had slashed quit bellowing and resumed trying to knock Fae around with its improvised club, but its movements had slowed and its eyes were turning yellow. I whooped in victory. It had worked! But would the poison be enough?

  The answer came seconds later. The troll gave one last groan halfway through a swipe and collapsed to the ground with a tremendous thud. The impact almost knocked me off my feet, and it sent Fae scurrying out from under the behemoth.

  The Fae stared at the giant corpse—which was already shrinking back to its human size—then at Jessela, knowing she was the one who had delivered the deadly blow. She bowed once to me, then ran over to me as the other Fae turned to the Stomper.

  “Can you make more of that stuff?” she asked.

  “I think so,” I said. “But I only have enough spellgredients for one more.”

  “That should do it. There’s more spellgredients, as you call them, in the palace.”

  Quickly I made another batch of poison—I had just enough—and she applied it to her sword. Running forward, she evaded the grasping hand of the Stomper—he was trying to squeeze Fae into paste with his hands, having learned another skill, apparently—I would have to call him the Stomper and Squeezer if he lasted much longer—and slashed him on the back of the knee.

  Ol’ Stompy let loose a terrible roar, then resumed stomping
and squeezing. But like before, his movements were slower, and the whites of his eyes began to turn yellow. Within moments he fell to his knees, then toppled headlong to the ground. Fae danced aside, stared at the body, and then cheered.

  I felt a smile creep across my face. “We did it!”

  “You did it,” Jessela said, approaching. Her face was even redder than before, but I could see pride in her eyes. “I’ll spread the word,” she told me. “Get the Enchanters to mix up that poison en masse. What was in it?”

  Briefly I told her how to make the goop, and I could see she was committing it to memory. Even as I relayed it to her, I could hear screams and crashings from other parts of the palace. There were indeed more trolls, and more scenes of violence. Damn it all, this had been far too organized and coordinated.

  The surviving Fae Knights approached and gathered around Jessela, some slapping her on the back or cheering her on.

  “What shall we do next?” one asked. It was obvious she had become something of a leader to them now. They would follow whatever she said.

  “Help me break through to the Hall of Enchantment,” she said. “Stick close to me and I think we can reach the Enchanters so that they can whip up more of the poison. Thank our human friend here for the recipe.”

  They nodded at me guardedly, then turned back to Jessela.

  “What about me?” I asked her. “I’m coming, too.”

  “No, you stay here,” she said.

  “But—”

  She raised a hand, forestalling my objections. “The Queen would have me whipped for bringing someone who’s not a knight into the fray.”

  That hadn’t stopped her before. Then again, a few minutes ago, she hadn’t been surrounded by other knights who would make her live up to her vows, whatever those were.

  “I’m just as much a warrior as you are,” I said, but even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. I was a sneaker, not a fighter, and she may have trained for hundreds of years in the martial arts for all I knew. Hell, thousands.

  She gave me a kind look, then turned back to her fellow knights. “Follow me,” she said, and ran toward one of the doors leading back inside. I tried to follow, but one of the knights gently restrained me, then rushed off to join the tide of armed soldiers following Jessela back into the palace. I watched them go with a heavy heart. I might be a sneaker, but I wanted payback on these troll bastards. One of them had killed Jason, after all, and whoever was behind them—Mistress Angela, I supposed—was responsible for this whole mess.

  Standing in the now-empty courtyard, I watched blood soak the grass and mingle with the water of the brook. Bodies lay all over, some mushed flat, some in pieces. It was a truly grisly scene. I hope she doesn’t intend for me to stay here.

  I could hear roars of trolls and the battle cry of Fae Knights from all quarters of the palace. Weird that they would be attacking from so many directions, I thought. Almost as if…

  Suddenly, I stiffened. Cold dread filled my being.

  Almost as if the trolls were trying to draw off the Fae Knights! I thought, completing the horrible notion. Almost as if the trolls are merely a diversion to leave Queen Calista unprotected!

  Chapter 18

  “Shit!” I said to the empty courtyard. “I have to get to the Queen!”

  I had to hurry, too. Even now Mistress Angela could be stabbing her with the demon horn. Sucking up my courage, I swiveled about, orienting myself, and pictured the layout of the palace in my mind. My cat-burglar instincts served me well. It only took seconds to remember which direction the Throne Room lay.

  Hopefully, the Queen would be there, directing the war effort from her seat of office. If she wasn’t, I was screwed. We all were.

  I shoved through a door and plunged through hallways littered with bodies and torn apart by violent magic. Blood trickled down the walls, pooling at their bases, and severed limbs lay strewn upon the floor. Nausea welled up in me. I tried not to look as I hopped over bodies and edged around pools of blood.

  Noise ahead.

  Going slower, I turned a curve and neared an intersection. The halls here were high and arched, admitting shafts of sunlight from windows near the curve of the ceiling. In the domed space where the halls met, Fae with winged shoes like that one Greek god made circles in the air, spinning about the head of a terrible troll. One Fae was gripped in his right hand while the left snatched at the flying Fae. They shot at him with flaming arrows from specially wrought bows all of gold, but the arrows splintered apart in shafts of fire as they struck the troll.

  I tried to think of some way to help them but came up blank. The best I could do was save their queen.

  Feeling like a coward, I skirted the battle and continued through the halls, desperate to reach the Throne Room before Queen Calista could be killed. I ran past one conflict, then another.

  At last I turned a final corner and came in sight of the grand doors leading into the Throne Room. There at the threshold twenty Fae Knights gave battle to three trolls. Unlike the other trolls, these were armored and armed with tall iron lances that must have weighed a ton each. They swung these and stomped at the Fae with their armored feet. The Fae slashed at their legs to no avail.

  Shit shit shit. How was I going to get through? Because I could already hear sounds of conflict coming from the other side—there was battle in the Throne Room! I had to hurry.

  Shaking, I approached the battle. Again I felt like I was about to throw up, but this time from simple fear. What did I think I was doing? I was a burglar, not a warrior. Not a fricking Fae Knight, for God’s sakes. Sheesh! I was really turning into one big idiot. Ruby would’ve gotten a good laugh at this.

  Ruby!

  If Queen Calista was being attacked, then it was probably Mistress Angela doing the attacking. She would be leading the assault on Queen Calista, I had no doubt. I still didn’t know why she wanted to harm the Queen, but it didn’t matter. Angela would probably have the antler of the Golden Hind on her. And if I could get that, I could save Ruby before Skull-Face’s deadline tomorrow. I’d never forgotten about that for a moment. A desperate need flamed in me, a need to save my sister.

  Sucking it up, I approached the conflict at a faster clip. The Fae Knights, I saw, were so busy dealing with the armored trolls that they were letting opportunities to slip into the Throne Room pass by them. While the rest were engaged, I saw that one or two might be able to sneak by the trolls and into the big chamber.

  They won’t leave their mates, I realized. The knights had been trained to fight as a unit, not to abandon their comrades. At any rate, I could get by…if I was careful.

  I reached the knights and shouted to the tall Fae Knight with the black hair who looked to be in charge. “Hey,” I said. “You can’t even penetrate their armor! Why are you fighting them?”

  “We have to keep them away from the Queen,” the commander said, after giving an order to a team of knights. This team raised their hands and blasted one of the trolls with a magical bolt, but as before the blast did nothing. The commander looked grim. “By any means necessary,” he added.

  They were willing to give up their lives to keep these trolls away from Calista. I didn’t think they understood, though, that the trolls were merely to keep them away from her. Or if they did know there was nothing they could do about it.

  “There’s a poison,” I said, shouting over the ring of metal and the grunts of trolls and warriors. “It can kill them! It should be coming from the Enchanters’ Hall soon. Just stay alive till it gets here, then aim for these trolls’ faces.” The visors of the troll helms were lifted, and their huge-nosed faces with their overly big teeth and yellow gums were all too plain to see. Hair bristled out from their jaws, noses, and ears.

  The commander raised his eyebrow at me, and I could see him think the question, Who the hell is this girl? But he didn’t argue with me. He seemed to realize I knew what I was talking about. He just gave me one nod, quickly, then turned back to snap another order.r />
  I didn’t wait to find out how the rest of the battle went but edged around the side of the room, swinging wide around the three trolls and the Fae Knights that tried to bring them down. One of the trolls reeled backward as two lances drove at him, slamming against the wall near the door and nearly crushing me with its heel. I just barely dove out of the way in time, and even then its other foot came down right at me.

  I rolled out of the way. Boom! The foot landed, and the ground shook.

  Breathless, I glanced up to see the troll, enraged, knocking away the iron lances with the back of its armored arm, then stalk forward, murder in its eyes. The Fae Knights stumbled back while others fired arrows at its head—non-flaming, this time. To the same affect, though.

  Hang in there, I thought at the Fae Knights. Jessela will send the poison soon. I had faith in her. Huh, at least there was one person I could depend on.

  The troll was clear of me, so I scrambled to my feet and all but fled through the great door and into the Throne Room. I plunged into the little enchanted forest that grew here, and the sounds of the battle behind began to recede. The forest around me was trampled in spots.

  The great mound of a troll body heaped to my left, blood trickling down it. Several knights lay strewn on the ground near it. I’m too late.

  Sounds of combat ahead. I pumped my legs faster. Sweat stung my eyes, and my breaths came quick and fast. At last I burst from the undergrowth and beheld the magnificent crystal stairs leading up to the throne. An epic last stand was taking place there. Two armored trolls were marching up the stairs swinging metal shafts while a small handful of Fae Knights—shit, just three—mounted a rearguard action as they shepherded Queen Calista up the steps. She and the others blasted the trolls with balls of light and energy, but nothing could penetrate their shields.

  Behind the trolls were Mistress Angela, Blackfeather, and several of their goons. All the goons were bare-chested and ritually painted on their arms, necks, and chests. Damn, I thought. It was if…