by J. P. Rice
Alayna explained, “As am I. I’m not doing this for me. If I were, I would have come here a long time ago. The only reason I’m here is because the dragons and the sidhe came to Pittsburgh.”
I wasn’t even trying to listen to what she had to say. It appeared the recent events and constant stress had resulted in everyone being knocked down a few emotional pegs. The dark chickens of our past were coming home to roost. Of all the possible issues we faced, turning on each other hadn’t registered in my mind.
The more I ruminated on the Merlin thing, the more I realized it was just a name. The real magic was inside me. I was most upset that it made me look a fool in front of the magic community. I turned to Alayna. “Can you just explain why you did it? Why you thought it would be a good idea to lie to me?”
“As I’ve already said, it was mostly for your confidence.” She paused for a moment, tapping her chin. “I was in your town searching for the long-lost relative of Merlin. He was supposed to be in that bar you loved to drink at. When I snuck in to find him, you were sitting at that table in the back.”
A bird’s squawk broke our attention momentarily. We all peered around for intruders, but couldn’t find anything. With my pulse heightened, Alayna continued, “You had the most enormous magical vines emanating from your body. They were much bigger than the ones coming from Merlin’s relative. So I...I kind of switched you two.”
“What about the Gods? What about my father having magical ability?”
It was strange watching Alayna try to wriggle her way out of this. She had always been in control and her nervous twitches gave me a slight sense of revenge. She said, “As I’ve said, you come from a line of wizards. Just not Merlin’s line. When I’d returned to the Celtic Gods, I may have led them to believe that you were Merlin’s relative.”
I blew up on her. “You lied to the Gods?”
Alayna explained, “I did. They sent me to get someone and I didn’t want to tell them otherwise. I’ll tell them the truth next time I see them.”
“How couldn’t the Gods know that you were lying?” I couldn’t understand the notion. “Aren’t they supposed to be omniscient?”
She lowered her head again. “I convinced myself it wasn’t a lie so they couldn’t detect a trace of lying. The Gods can be fooled, the same as a mortal man. You’ll be happy to know that they hate being lied to, so I will be punished severely and kicked out of the Deep Burrow and Clara Spiritus.”
I wasn’t falling for the cry for sympathy. “Is this why you never told me about Merlin? And why every time I asked you for books on him, you stalled me out?”
She nodded. “I didn’t want you to get more attached to it.”
I slid down the trunk of the tree and sat on the dark soil. An influx of images flashed into my mind. Alayna saving me from killing myself. Her helping to rid me of cancer. Her training me in the art of magic. Her always being there for me. Her helping me grow up and become an adult.
I stacked all that on one side of my brain and put the lie on the other side. When I compared the one lie, next to all the good she had done for me, I realized I was being foolish. I’d already defeated a warlock, my possessed father and some higher ups in the demon world. I’d accomplished all that without Merlin being my ancestor.
Perhaps I was special? Just not as special as I’d imagined. I was still miles away from forgiving Alayna completely, but I wasn’t quitting the mission.
We traversed the treacherous landscape on the way to the Rhyming Red Cap. The gleeful chatter we’d enjoyed at the beginning of the trip had faded along with the constant bickering that had taken its place. We walked during the day and camped at night mostly in silence.
Everyone focused on finishing the job and getting the fuck out of Sleepy Willow. The grandeur of sounding the Dragon Horn had faded. The case had shifted into just work at this point. Luckily, we hadn’t run into the grootslangs again or any other predators.
I worried about Felix, hoping he was all right. Another shriek erupted in the shadowy forest, and my thoughts shifted back to my own survival.
Chapter 29
Warden of the East
The Warden of the North entered the conference room at PPG Place in the city of Pittsburgh. He sat down at the table across from his counterpart from the East.
Sir North said, “Concerning the intruders using fake gold, we’ve dispatched a group of warriors to solve the problem.”
The Warden of the East sat, elbow on the table and his chin resting on his fist, “Did you instruct them to take them alive first?”
“I did, good sir. Ramm Sekkii will lead the charge. He will try to take them captive, but he assured me that they will be eliminated one way or the other.”
“How many men are going out with Ramm?” questioned the Warden of the East.
Sir North closed one eye in deep thought. “Fifty. He actually said about fifty.”
The Warden of the East worried about Sir North’s count. The man didn’t sound sure of himself. “Seems more than sufficient. What have you found out about the torture tests?”
Sir North answered, “Similar results as when we tested our own people. The pain thresholds vary greatly depending on the subject. Few commonalities. It will take much more testing, which I’ll gladly oversee.”
The Warden of the East almost cracked a smile as he thought about human suffering. “Just keep torturing until we have some firm data to work with.”
A loud knock on the door caused the Wardens to sit up straight. “Enter,” yelled the Warden of the East.
A page walked in and announced, “The man is here who says he has information that is extremely valuable. He said he already talked to you.”
“Send him in,” ordered the Warden of the East.
The page bowed and exited. A short and stocky man wearing a ski mask entered the room. He strutted confidently across the room, stopping in front of the Warden of the North. “I’m the one who called about the juicy information.”
“And who exactly are you?” Sir North asked.
The man removed his mask and appeared to be Asian as he combed his gelled hair with his fingers. “My name is unnecessary. My message is the only matter of import.”
The Warden of the East said casually, “By the way, I am the Warden of the East. Focus your attention over here.”
The young man turned to the Warden, cheeks red from embarrassment. “Sir, how much is sweet revenge worth to you? I’m talking the sweetest.”
The Warden’s mind twisted, wondering if he could finally have true revenge for Rachella. “You will need to provide much more information than that.”
The young man played with his bottom lip as he spoke, “All right. I know of three people trespassing on your land. Three very interesting people.”
The hope of reuniting with his one true love faded. “Would it happen to be a man, a woman and a masked dwarf?”
The young man shifted around, biting his nails. He responded, “It just so happens that’s them.”
The Warden rose, walked around the table and stood in front of the young man, towering above him. “Save your words, child. We’ve already sent a posse out after them. They will be dead or captured within the next few hours. Which brings us to what we are going to do with you.”
The Warden stared down at the nervous man, chomping on his fingernails and using his other hand to fix his hair. “It should seem I wouldn’t pay for information I already have. Which would render you useless. What to do with a useless human? Sir North, would you like a brazen human for your torture experiments?”
Before Sir North could answer, the young man responded, “You don’t want to kill me and you definitely don’t want those trespassers to end up dead because...” he let the words linger.
“State you point,” the Warden of the East commanded.
“My point is that we need to come to a monetary agreement before I divulge this valuable secret. I’m not after much, only twenty-five thousand.” He played with the
monogrammed F on the chest pocket of his jacket.
The Warden contemplated the offer for a moment. “If you can tell me something that has the value of twenty-five thousand dollars, it shall surely be yours. We are obviously good for that amount.”
Looking up at the Warden, the young man stated, “I’ll cut straight to the chase since the clock is ticking. One of the trespassers can reverse the curse on the crops of Sleepy Willow. If you understand what I am getting at.”
“The only person who can do that is...wait.” It hit him like a sledgehammer. The Warden asked, “Are you saying what I think you are?”
The young man nodded and avarice gleamed in his eyes. “I am stating that Queen Al is the dwarf. I think that information is worth well more than the amount I asked for.”
Suspicion circled around his head. Could the Warden trust this man? “One question. If this is who you say it is. Why would you out her? What is your motivation here?”
The man explained, “I was on the trip with them, so I personally know who they are and why they are there.”
That didn’t really answer the Warden’s question. He asked, “Then why would you turn on them? I thought humans looked out for each other.”
“That’s the problem. They were trying to use me and rip me off. Sometimes I have to look out for myself. I have an expensive lifestyle to uphold. They were trying to shortchange me so I have to make some money through other avenues. I’m a free agent in this business.” The mysterious man went back to biting his nails.
The answer seemed to make enough sense and Warden of the East hastily went for the door. “Sir North. Pay this man the money, but follow him until we find out if he is telling the truth. If necessary, we will take back the money and kill him. I’m off to save Sleepy Willow.”
The Warden raced out the door to get to the portal.
Chapter 30
As we walked down a path in a valley on the way to the Rhyming Red Cap’s Castle, Burn fell to her knees and threw up in a mulberry bush. I was getting worried about her. She’d been getting sick for the past few days and I naturally assumed that the food pills weren’t agreeing with her.
Alayna and I stood in silence, waiting for Burn to get it all out. The morning sun peeked out from behind a puffy cloud and showered warmth down on us. A vaporous mist dulled visibility, but I spotted a castle on top of the next hill, straight ahead.
Through the fog, it appeared as if a great battle had battered the stone castle or it had been set on fire. The rectangular stones were charcoal black and large areas of the outer wall had been destroyed and never repaired.
Burn finished her morning ritual, and we ascended the little mountain. The castle looked worse as we neared it, but strangely enough, climbing arms of green ivy stretched from the bottom to the top of the castle wall. The square castle had three towers, two of which were busted and broken, only standing at about half the size of the unaffected one.
The castle lay in ruins. We walked onto the drawbridge, although I couldn’t see a moat or body of water below us. I expected to see a guard or representative of the castle, but no one blocked our entry. My pulse picked up as we got off the bridge and walked up the steep stone steps leading to the enormous front door of the castle.
There weren’t even guards at the door and I wondered if we were just supposed to knock. The Red Cap didn’t seem very concerned about security, which would explain the condition of the castle.
We looked at each other, wondering what to do. I noticed a bell hanging from a hook next to the door. “Should I...?”
Alayna said, “Might as well or we can just stand out here forever.”
I grabbed the leather strap hanging from the bell and swung it back and forth quickly. A sharp, hollow ringing deadened almost immediately. I did it again, not sure if anyone had heard my first attempt.
A loud bang echoed in my ears. The large wooden rectangle screeched against the stone as it opened slowly. A tall man in a Victorian suit suddenly appeared in the open doorway.
The man tilted his head to the side as he stared at us blankly. He said in a monotone, “You rang?”
The butler’s face had ghostly white skin that was peeling grossly. He sported a Hitler mustache that I figured wasn’t as offensive in this world. His greasy black hair met at a widow’s peak on his forehead.
I chuckled internally because the big man could have been Lurch’s stunt double from The Addams Family. “We’re here to see the Red Cap,” I announced proudly.
A crazed but happy look ran through his dull gray eyes and he muttered under his breath, “Who shall die and who shall live?”
“Excuse me?” Burn asked.
His thin lips formed an evil grin. “I said, follow me, if you will.” He grabbed a torch from the wall and led the way.
As soon as I placed the sole of my shoe inside the castle, the stench of death hit me. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed it when we were waiting on the doorstep outside. It intensified as we descended a circular staircase, plunging into the depths of the castle.
We walked in unnerving silence and I took in the castle. There was moss growing on the walls, and every so often, a fully bloomed red rose peeked out of the cracks, creating a sharp, lively contrast to the deathly black castle walls and floor. The incongruity continued as we descended for about another five minutes until an arched door appeared in front of us.
The butler knocked four times, drove his shoulder into the door and pushed the stubborn piece of wood open. It scraped against the floor, creating the classic nails on a chalkboard effect. An odor of death in different stages of putrefaction filled my nostrils, making me want to vomit.
We entered a room glowing with torchlight and I swallowed my bitter saliva hoping my stomach would calm down. A short man in red robes was hovering over a bloody body in the center of the room. He was holding a long cylindrical object, using it to soak up a pool of blood next to the body.
It took a few moments to realize it was his hat. The hat was shaped like a top hat without a brim, but it was the skyscraper of top hats. It had to be at least three feet tall. It probably looked like a circular, bloody tower hanging over his head when he wore it.
The Red Cap stood up, and I waited for the rest of him. However, he probably only stood about four and a half feet tall. He appeared thick and muscular, evidenced by his bulging forearms with blue veins popping out.
His face looked like that of a gentle grandfather. Rosy cheeks and bushy white hair gave him a Santa Claus appearance with one big difference. His snowy hair was stained with matted spots of burgundy and brown where the blood had soaked into his hair. He didn’t have facial hair. Instead, a speckling of splattered, dried blood covered most of his face.
His gentle face twisted into a sour frown and he gestured his butler over to the corner of the small room. The butler followed the Red Cap and the castle owner gave his hunched over assistant a blistering earful of angry whispers as he pointed his bony finger up at the enormous employee’s face.
The butler stood up straight, lowered his head in shame and exited the room. It was strange to see considering the butler looked like he could squash the Red Cap like a bug. The butler pushed the door almost shut, and lingered outside the room.
The Rhyming Red Cap put his blood-soaked hat atop his skull. He was obviously taller with the hat included, but the towering object somehow made his body appear even shorter.
“A trio arrives,
A fresh three lives,
What could they want,
What is it, my dear, that you three hunt?” The Red Cap spoke like a poet, accentuating the words in legato and staccato bursts that helped them flow better.
He focused his attention on the masked Alayna. He probably felt like a giant next to her. She answered, “We are looking to gain your permission to pass through in peace.”
His welcoming eyes lit up, but it triggered an evil grin that took his eyes from welcoming to sadistic in an instant. “You must not know much of m
e,
Three are here with much glee,
For blood is what I do desire,
Unlike the faun who dreams to sire,”
He gesticulated wildly and looked up to the ceiling at random intervals while he talked. Clearly, he was a showman.
Bells started ringing, surprising me since we were so far down in the bowels of the castle. They sounded alarming with no real melody or pleasing pattern. The Red Cap’s eyes widened in concern and the slavish butler re-entered the room and rushed over to his master.
They whispered to each other. I wondered if an attack was imminent. Judging by the appearance of the castle, it seemed like a regular occurrence. Just my luck to get stuck in the middle of a civil war.
The butler rushed out of the room and I could hear his heavy steps tramping up the stone castle staircase. The Red Cap didn’t say a word, but just paced around the room. I wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but I didn’t really want to hear the answer.
After several minutes of tension-filled silence, the butler returned, his pale face flushed. He walked over to the Red Cap, leaned down and they had another whisper fest. To add to the tight nerves, the Red Cap kept turning to us with a look of disgust on his face.
“Your stay will be short for sure,
I need to get you out my door,
A wanted three, that’s what you are,
The Warden, he searches wide and far,
Escape from him or suffer death,
Soon you breathe your final breath,
Crossing the Warden with fake gold,
Is a wonderful way to never grow old,
But before you leave, I take my wage,
Imagine you three are in a cage,
Two will leave and one must die,
To pay the pittance to the man named I,
You must choose and choose fast you will,
Which of the three will I get to kill?”
Burn asked, “Wait, you are saying that one of us must die?”