The Golden Basilisk (The Lost Ancients Book 5)

by Marie Andreas

  This time she seemed to welcome it.

  She howled as her fingers grew longer and her fingernails became claw-like. She jumped to a pair of rakasa trying to make it to Lorcan and I and smashed their heads together, then threw them into the distance. The arms she had grabbed them by didn’t quite make the trip and she threw them as well.

  “Has she done that before?” Lorcan asked. He seemed more academically curious than terrified, which had been my first response to seeing my best friend turn into a killing machine.

  “Once that I know of. But not that easily.” Further discussion was cut off as a pair of rakasa tried to run through us. They were attacking all of my friends, but it seemed more like they were trying to get through to the house itself.

  I ran toward the two trying to clear the gap between Covey and Lorcan and I. My sword glowed an even brighter blue, which almost caused me to pull back. But my sword had a different idea and dragged me along behind it. A burst of blue hit the lead rakasa a moment before my sword did.

  The rakasa shattered.

  My momentum allowed me to swing through and strike the second one. He too shattered but not as cleanly. Bits of partially frozen and bloody rakasa flew through the air.

  The rest of the rakasa around us froze. I wish literally, but they weren’t blue. Someone was commanding them. The ones that my friends had been fighting didn’t even move as they were run through.

  “Well done.” A cloaked shape seemed to come out of thin air toward the back of the rakasa pack. “I will take that now.” He—even though we couldn’t see him, there was no doubt it was Nivinal—reached out an arm toward me and the coldness started to fade.

  “Oh, like hell that’s going to happen.” I raised my sword and focused energy on the manticore staying right where it was. Since it had chosen to be there, it helped me with that.

  Nivinal didn’t come any closer, and didn’t even release the spell on his rakasa troops as my friends slaughtered them. He did raise his hand and I found myself floating about a foot in the air.

  Lorcan grabbed my arm as I lifted off the ground and cast a spell back at Nivinal.

  I stopped moving but wasn’t on the ground. Since my best spell, push, wouldn’t really work in this situation, I tried using one Alric had been trying to teach me on the road. It was simply a spell stopper. It could slow down or end a spell attacking me.

  I aimed the still blue sword toward the cloaked figure and sent my spell through it. I tumbled to the ground, and the cloaked figure blew up. Well, it vanished.

  Flarinen had been standing the closest to the figure and he looked around quickly but shook his head. Obviously, I hadn’t blown Nivinal up. Bunky and the gargoyle had flown out there as well, and both flew higher over the area to search.

  Maybe Nivinal had been scared off? Highly unlikely.

  The rakasa were also released and while there weren’t many left, they were pissed. They also were trying to get to the house. Usually rakasa killed people for no reason—or rather they might have reasons, but they didn’t really need them. In this case they were fighting to get through to the house, not just to kill people. Which made them easier to fight in a way, as their usual bloodthirsty tendencies clearly weren’t in play.

  I rolled to my feet and swung at one of the rakasa, but missed. The coldness from my face and arm as well as the blue in the sword were fading. Still no excuse for a bad strike though. The rakasa didn’t even slow down. It leapt over my blade and kept running for the house.

  I had no idea what could be in there that was making them so obsessed. As far as I knew the rakasa weren’t about physical things.

  Except the emerald dragon.

  That Ancient relic had been something of importance to the rakasa and they’d been trying to find it when we first encountered them.

  “They want something in the house.” I ran to catch up with them. I didn’t want to yell about any of the relics, and I would have thought my friends would have mentioned if they now had one.

  Rakasa were short, only about three feet high maximum, but when motivated, they could really run.

  I mentally tried calling for the faeries. They were all drunk like crazy by now, but that was a risk I was willing to take.

  I sent images of needing them, adding more ale until a multi colored swarm filled the doorway. The lead rakasa was almost upon them.

  “They want to take your ale!” My friends were closing in behind me, but I needed the rakasa to stay out of our house.

  The faeries had been bumping around the doorway until I yelled. At my words, Garbage rose up above the others and yelled, “No take prisoners!”

  I hadn’t really heard of the faeries ever taking prisoners. The only time they stole people was when they relocated some syclarions during a fight. Unfortunately, Orenda had helped them with that and she was probably a few hundred miles away by now.

  There were about twenty rakasa, all racing to get in the door, and twenty-three faeries all trying to get in their way.

  Garbage and her first wave lifted their war blades high and swarmed over the first three rakasa. They stopped in place, wavering back and forth. The faeries made a second pass, this time I was close enough to see the blades stabbing the rakasa, and the rakasa that were attacked sat down.

  When a larger group of faeries had done something similar to a sceanra anam it had exploded. These rakasa didn’t explode. But they stopped.

  My friends and I caught the back of the rakasa group and killed them. The ones in front of them didn’t even turn to defend themselves they were so obsessed with getting in the house. They ran over the three rakasa the faeries had stopped.

  We got all of them but one, smaller than the others and faster. He made it into the house.

  28

  The faeries had become distracted by the three rakasa they’d originally stopped, who were probably never getting up again.

  “It’s after your ale.” I couldn’t look back to see if they heard, as I was the closest to the door. I ran in, and felt a gush of wind as the faeries flew over me. The rakasa stopped in the middle of the front room and grinned. Then he flung one clawed hand up in an imitation of a spell user.

  And my friends behind me all slammed into an invisible block on the door. Bunky and the gargoyle were trapped outside as well. It was the faeries and I against the rakasa.

  I lowered my sword and took a few breaths to try and slow down the pounding in my chest. I told myself it was from fighting and running, not fear.

  The rakasa seemed unafraid of the faeries or me. Cocky of it, considering what those faeries had done to three of his kind. Even I had taken out a few of his people.

  He didn’t speak, for which I was grateful, but tilted his head and flung one finger toward the swarming faeries.

  They all immediately dropped from the air.

  Garbage had been closest to me so I grabbed her as she tumbled past. She was breathing, but her eyes were shut and she was limp.

  A sleep spell? Those types of magics didn’t work on faeries. It was one of the first things I’d asked Alric. Life would be so much easier if I could knock the girls out when they needed it.

  And if he could knock them out with a finger flick, why didn’t he do that to me? My answer came in a massive cold wave that engulfed me as the rakasa raised his hand my direction. Apparently, it wasn’t only Nivinal that the sapphire manticore didn’t like.

  The spell the rakasa sent at me slammed back to him and his left arm collapsed. I assumed it was just numb but I didn’t really care. I came forward and raised my sword.

  There really wasn’t room for a fight here. But I didn’t think that the rakasa ran past me and up the stairs because he was afraid of damaging furniture.

  I swore and went after him. I was extremely grateful for the spell and shield assist from the manticore, but the shield around me was unwieldy and it took a few moments to get up the stairs.

  I hadn’t even had a chance to see the upstairs before, but they ha
d bedrooms crammed in every bit of space. I heard a sound like the clanging of pots being thrown about and followed it to a room with two small cots. It wasn’t pots being thrown about, but Kelm’s armor.

  The rakasa ignored me and kept tossing the knights’ belongs around. Finally, he pulled out a fabric wrapped bundle. He wanted their clothes?

  There was only one thing a rakasa would fight this hard to get, but there was no way that was what I thought it was. How could Flarinen or Kelm come across the emerald dragon? And why wouldn’t they have told anyone?

  A mental flash hit me of how I’d felt when I’d first found it in Kenithworth. I’d wanted to keep it hidden and run away from all of my friends. The remembered feeling was reinforced by the rakasa ripping off the shirts that were wrapped around it. The coldness surrounding me surged and the feeling of extreme greed for the object slowed down. It was there, but more like a dull bruise rather than an overwhelming need.

  The rakasa had no such protection. While it was obviously one of the spell casters for its people, and supposedly knew what the relic did, the madness that filled its eyes told me he hadn’t expected this.

  The emerald was the size of the rakasa’s head and as gorgeous as it had been when I dug it out of the ground. The detail of the dragon was so delicate and elaborate, it forced you to want to move forward to get a better look.

  The rakasa growled at me and jumped on the cot behind him. I charged him, intending to tackle him and get that damn cursed dragon back. Then have a long talk with Kelm and Flarinen.

  Didn’t quite go as planned. I leapt forward at the same moment the rakasa pushed open the window behind him to jump out. We both went out together.

  My sword was out but it was pressed between us. It had stayed blue and the rakasa screamed as the cold ate into him. Then we landed.

  I was on top of him. While I was not a huge woman, I was still bigger than him. The shield from the manticore and the rakasa’s body kept me from hitting the ground.

  The rakasa was screaming, the shield was pushing into him and my sword was along his side. He was agile though. He wouldn’t let go of the dragon but managed to wiggle out from under me. He looked like he had multiple broken bones and the side where my sword had touched him was frozen and turning black.

  He ran away.

  My friends came running around the back of the house, but he already had a lead on them. How in the hell he was moving, let alone running, in the shape he was in, I had no idea. Maybe that was the relic’s power—greed kept you moving no matter what.

  Alric and Covey ran to me, Kelm and Flarinen ran after the rakasa, and Lorcan and Padraig stood at the corner to keep an eye on the front of the house.

  “What happened?” Alric reached to help me up. I tried to shake him off before he touched me, but the shield had vanished.

  My sword was also losing its blue color. And my face no longer felt like pieces of it were going to flake off like ice chips. This was a good thing.

  I dusted myself off and sheathed my sword. “A lot. That rakasa had magic and not only did he lock you all out, he knocked out the faeries. In a second.” That was freaking me out almost as much as the whole ‘either Kelm or Flarinen had been hiding a dangerous relic in the house’ situation. Stopping the faeries like that should have been impossible.

  “And he tried to do the same, or worse, to me but the manticore went full shield and stopped him.” I dropped my voice. Alric and Covey were the only ones here who’d been around when I found the emerald dragon. “It was after something in Flarinen and Kelm’s room. An artifact.”

  Both looked around, but the two knights had finally stopped running down the street and were slowly walking back.

  “One, or both, of them was hiding the emerald dragon in a pile of clothes.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Alric said, as he went to draw his sword. “I will kill him.”

  I put my hand on his and pushed it down. “We’re not sure which one had it, but considering how strong that thing is for creating greed, I doubt the shirts would have diluted the effect. At least not for long.”

  I’d filled Alric and Covey in on the effect the dragon had on me when I found it. Alric had carried it for a bit, unbeknownst to me, but inside one of the faeries’ bags. He said he hadn’t felt anything from it. If we got it back, I was stealing one of those bags.

  “What was that thing after and why was it moving so oddly?” Satisfied that there were not any more living rakasa around, Padraig came closer to us.

  “It’s better we discuss this inside, and the odd movement is because I think Taryn crushed some of its bones when she landed on it.” Covey glared at both knights as they walked toward us, but she moved to go to the front.

  I started to follow her around the house. “It wasn’t just me, the manticore made a shield.” I looked where we landed and saw an indentation. That rakasa better have good doctors or it wasn’t living long enough to enjoy that relic. I’d seen them eat their own kind—I wasn’t holding out for their having anything like a doctor.

  No one had come out of the neighboring houses. Considering the amount of noise that had been going on, it reinforced the whole ‘Null is not a nice place’ situation. The rakasa bodies lying around were something we were going to have to deal with though, even if no one came out.

  Lorcan waved his hand and muttered under his breath, and the bodies vanished. At least now the neighbors wouldn’t complain—if they’d noticed.

  We waited, but it seemed like Flarinen and Kelm were taking far longer to get back to the house than they should.

  The faeries were all unconscious. Once they could come back in the house, both Bunky and the gargoyle flew around them bleating.

  “They’ll be okay,” I said as much to myself as them. I picked the girls up gently, all twenty-three were breathing, but all still out cold. I gathered them together and laid them out on the table. “I need you two to watch them. Tell me the moment any of them stir.”

  Both nodded and sat down as close to the faeries as they could without actually sitting on them. Bunky did look like he was wondering if that might be a good idea though.

  Lorcan went to the table and looked at them. “I think they will recover just fine.” He smiled at me. “You might want to check on Flarinen and Kelm,” he said to Alric.

  He nodded and darted out the door. There was a sound of a struggle, and Alric reappeared at the door. At first I thought he was dragging Kelm along, then I realized both of them were pulling in a struggling Flarinen.

  Padraig and Covey went to help them. Flarinen was only partially fighting by that point and seemed more distraught and embarrassed than violent.

  “We know what the rakasa were after.” Lorcan motioned to a solid chair for them to put Flarinen in. I thought he was going to spell Flarinen in place, but he pulled out some rope.

  “I am sorry for this. I know there are circumstances that can’t always be explained. Alas, we do need some information.” He handed the rope to Alric and Padraig and motioned for Kelm to sit in another chair. “I won’t have you tied at this time, but you were exposed to the relic whether you knew it or not. Please stay seated and do not get up unless we say you can.”

  Kelm nodded but kept his head down. He was a new knight and probably looked up to his captain, Flarinen. That his leader had fallen so low was tearing him up inside and it showed on his face.

  Alric and Flarinen were not, by any stretch of the imagination, friends. But there was a compassion to the way in which Alric tied him up.

  Once he was secured to the chair, Padraig and Alric moved away. Covey moved right across from him.

  “I don’t have any sympathy for what you are going through. You took a relic, kept it to yourself, and risked all of our lives by your actions. If you even think of trying to leave, I will show you a berserker trellian close up.” Most of her features had returned to normal after her short berserker demonstration during the fighting, but she flexed her right hand and immediately the fin
gers elongated.

  Flarinen nodded and watched that hand carefully.

  Had that been a timeline change? In my time Covey wasn’t so embracing of her lost heritage. I was glad she was accepting it, but not if it indicated yet another timeline change.

  “I deserve it,” Flarinen said so softly it was as if someone else was throwing their voice to sound like it came from him. “I found the relic—alone, the others weren’t with it, I swear—the day after Alric and Taryn dropped back in time. Kelm and I had split up, looking for evidence of our mage friends. I found two corpses out on the edge of town, partially down one of the gullies that used to be there. They were locked around an item.” He shrugged but his shoulders didn’t move much.

  “So, for over two months you had that thing in your rooms and no one, not even Kelm, knew about it or was affected by it?” I’d felt what that thing could do. For all his annoying ways, Flarinen was a trained captain of the elven knights, but I doubted any of that training taught him how to avoid the powers of concentrated greed.

  “No. I kept it up top in the lookout in a lead chest. I tried to always move it if anyone other than me was up there. I recalled where Alric had it hidden when we came to get you, so I took one of the faeries’ bags and kept the relic in it most of the time. I only took it to the room last night.” His words were emotionless, and his face stayed down.

  The use of the bag probably helped him hold off some of the effects for so long. I was ready to abandon my friends, the faeries, and even Alric after just a few hours with that thing.

  Everyone sat and looked at each other.

  “I understand,” I said softly, then raised my voice. “That thing had me completely twisted within an hour of finding it. Had we not been attacked and betrayed, I am not sure what I would have done.”

  Alric smiled, but there was some guilt in the smile. “I knew you found it. I didn’t realize what it was doing to you for the first day. I stole it and a bag as soon as I did. Even if we hadn’t been attacked—twice—you wouldn’t have seen that thing again.”