Wildwood Larkwing (Silver and Orchids Book 3)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  I kneel in front of him. “Here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to make a deal with you. You’re going to tell me where you’re keeping Flink, and if he’s well and unharmed, we’ll come back for you. If you lie—we leave you. If he’s hurt—we leave you. If you irritate me further—we leave you.”

  He doesn’t need to know I won’t leave him to the goblins. Unless he’s hurt my dragon, and then… Let’s just say he better hope Flink is alive.

  Avery rips the fabric from the alchemist’s mouth and cringes. It’s stained with goblin sweat and so filthy it’s stiff—I know I wouldn’t want it shoved in my mouth. “You heard her,” the captain says. “Tell us where the dragon is.”

  As a nice extra touch, Avery holds the point of his blade to Dante’s jugular.

  “Search him for Sebastian’s pocket watch,” I add. It only takes the captain a moment to locate it. He hands it to me and then turns back to the alchemist.

  “The dragon?” Avery prompts, nudging the blade closer.

  “Two halls from here.” Dante gulps, his eyes wild. “Take a right, and then a left, and then another right. We held him in the treasure room to keep him calm.”

  Satisfied with the man’s answer, Avery nods and glances at the wad of fabric. Then he shrugs to himself and shoves it back in Dante’s mouth. The man lets out a muffled curse, but we ignore it as we flee across the way, over to where Gregory waits for us.

  “Gerard’s leading the prisoners to the entrance,” the mage says. “I’m going to follow him. Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?”

  Avery nods. “Wait for us in the large cavern.”

  Before he leaves, Gregory turns to me. He takes my hand and shoves a medallion in my palm. “If you find yourself surrounded, throw this into the air.”

  “What does it do?” I ask, beyond wary.

  “You’re going to have to trust me—only use it if you absolutely have to.”

  That doesn’t sound ominous at all.

  The mage leaves, and we follow Dante’s directions deeper into the maze. The tunnels are warmer here, making me wonder if we’re near an underground heat source. Beads of sweat trail between my shoulder blades and run down my face. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. Goblins, who generally like their climate a bit cooler, don’t linger here.

  We finally find the door, and I find myself pausing outside.

  “What’s the matter?” Avery asks.

  I turn to him. “What if he’s…”

  Avery nods, understanding. “I’ll go in first.”

  Feeling like a coward, I step back. I clench my eyes shut as Avery opens the door.

  “Lucia…” Avery says, sounding a bit off.

  Terror runs through me, almost paralyzing me. Unable to help myself, I open my eyes and dart into the room.

  Avery crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. “We’ll never get him out of here.”

  A very alive, very healthy-looking Flink sits atop a pile of gold and countless treasures, like a king on a throne. He lets out a happy churring sound of greeting when he sees us, and then he burrows his shining copper self even deeper into his new bed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Do We Have a Choice?

  “Come on, Flink,” I say. “It’s time to go.”

  Does the dragon move? No, he does not.

  Knowing that the situation calls for it, I set my hands on my hips and give him my best stern look. I point at the ground by my feet. “Flink. Now.”

  He stares at me with his adorable dragon eyes, not budging. I’m going to have to get him myself.

  Avery follows me into the room, gawking at our new surroundings. I give him a stern look, not unlike what I just used on Flink. “Not you too.”

  The captain flashes me a grin and begins to poke around in the treasures. He holds up a particularly fine dagger. “Want another one? I just swiped a new toy from Ivan, but I hate to leave this one behind.”

  Shaking my head, I turn back to the dragon. “We don’t have all day, Flink.”

  Whoever brought him in here must have removed his lead and harness, but I have no idea what they did with them.

  An awful, jarring goblin cry rings out in the vicinity of their banquet room, and I turn to Avery.

  “I think they just realized their dinner escaped,” Avery says, interested in the treasure no longer. “They’ll kill Dante if we don’t hurry.”

  What I wouldn’t give for a piece of cheese. Together, the two of us tug at the dragon, trying to get him moving. When we realize that’s futile, we give up on that and go behind him to push. He fights us, refusing to budge no matter what we do or say. We need to leave now. What am I going to do?

  Desperate, I sink to my knees in front of Flink, scratching him on the head just where he likes it. Hoping he will hear logic—hoping he will understand me at all—I say, “We have to go—we don’t have a choice. I need you to come with us, but I cannot make you.”

  Then I stand and give him a lingering look as I walk away. One last time, over my shoulder, I call, “Come on, Flink.”

  I don’t look back, even when my throat feels it’s going to close completely. We rush to the room where we left the alchemist, and Avery already prepares for a fight. I suck in a horrified breath and stop short in the hall.

  The goblins have Dante, and they’re passing him along, tossing him about the room as if he were a leather ball. They’re past angry—completely enraged, and they take out their fury on the alchemist. Slowly, with each toss, he gets closer to the now-boiling pot.

  “We have to save him,” I say as I rush forward. No one, not even Dante, deserves to die that way.

  Avery holds me back. “There are too many of them.”

  I glance at Gregory’s medallion, nervous. “What do you think? Do we dare?”

  “Do we have a choice?”

  Good point.

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I heave the medallion into the room, throwing it high above the chaos. It explodes at the apex of its flight, and a green, gas-like mist settles over the room.

  It reeks. The kind of reek that makes skunks smell pleasant—the kind of reek that’s right up there with Moss Forest orchids. The goblins begin to shriek and flail, and they drop Dante. He crashes to the floor with a hard and heavy thud.

  Seeing his chance, Avery darts into the fray, leaving me coughing in the hall. He emerges with the alchemist, and tears run down both their faces as they choke and gasp for air. After a moment, Avery straightens, ready to move. There’s no time to untie Dante, so Avery slices the ropes around the alchemist’s legs so the man can at least run.

  I glance over my shoulder, looking for Flink, hoping. My heart nearly shatters, for there is no sign of my dragon.

  With no choice, we run through the tunnels as fast as we are able, only taking a few wrong turns in the process. The goblins are behind us, racing through the halls as fast as their gangly legs will carry them. Finally, we reach the room off the cavernous hall. I knock past the chess board, sending the rest of the pieces flying.

  Gregory waits for us at the entrance of the hall.

  “Can you collapse the entrance tunnel behind us?” Avery yells as we rush toward the mage.

  Without a word of question, the mage raises his hands, collecting the magic in the air.

  And that’s when I hear it—a far off roar.

  “Wait!” I yell. “Flink’s coming!”

  “Lucia,” Avery says, pulling me with him when I stop. “They’ll kill us this time; we have no choice.”

  I struggle against him and look over my shoulder. “FLINK!”

  There it is again, and this time, I know Avery hears it. Flink listened, he obeyed.

  He’s coming.

  Gregory stands with his hands raised, waiting for his captain’s signal. The goblins emerge from the small room. They bare their teeth and brandish sticks in the air like weapons, swarming into the cavern like ants chased from their hill.

&nbs
p; Then a copper dragon bursts from the crowd of monsters, snarling and snapping. They shy away from him, some shrieking, terrified of their natural predator, even if he is pint-sized in comparison to the greater dragons they so rightly fear.

  “Run, Lucia!” Avery yells. “It’s too late!”

  “No!”

  Avery pulls me out of the cavern, practically carrying me as he runs down the last hall. Gregory is right behind us. The door stands wide open, beckoning us with its promise of safety. Avery shoves me out the door, into the courtyard.

  “Now!” he yells just as I cry, “Wait!”

  A great rumble shakes the ground, making me gasp. The earth heaves and bucks, but Gregory stands calmly. His hands are raised, and his eyes are dark with intense concentration. Just as I see the silhouettes of the monsters nearing the entrance, just as the stones of the courtyard begin to give way, Flink leaps from the tunnel.

  Dust and debris rise, choking me, and the roar is deafening. I reach for Flink as I watch the ground swallow the cavern. The whole time, Gregory controls it all, safely closing the passage, locking the goblins inside.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Did You Mean It?

  I stumble to the ground, crawling toward Flink. As if this were nothing more than a fun game, Flink trots to me and plops down at my side. I allow myself a few tears—even mighty siren slayers can cry if the situation calls for it, and bury my face against the dragon’s warm, smooth scales. He butts my head, making contented noises not unlike that of a cat.

  The dust settles around us, and as the sounds of the tremulous crash cease, I realize we’re not alone.

  The king and his men must have arrived just before we escaped the tunnels, and guards restrain Dante and his men. We’re surrounded by torches, and too many people talk all at once—it’s much too loud. Harold demands Avery’s attention, and the captain explains the situation in detail.

  I’m dizzy from the excitement. My head’s too light, and my muscles want to run even though we are now safe.

  Gregory kneels next to me. “Besides the cut on your cheek, are you hurt?”

  I shake my head, willing my heart to slow its rapid pace.

  “Would you like me to heal it?”

  I think about it for a moment, wondering if a scar will make people take me more seriously. But vanity wins, and I nod. The wound tingles as Gregory knits the flesh, but it’s over in just a moment.

  Avery finally breaks from the crowd, and the mage rises to his feet, patting my shoulder as he makes way for the captain. “Don’t be too mad at Avery for ordering me to close the tunnels before we knew if your dragon could escape. Like it or not, your safety will always come first.”

  Gregory pauses as he passes Avery and the two do the manly look of silent acknowledgment. Then, laughing, Avery clasps Gregory’s shoulder.

  Finally, the captain kneels in front of Flink and looks the dragon right in the eyes, pretending I’m not here. “Tell me, dragon to man, is she angry I almost left you behind?”

  Of course, Flink doesn’t answer.

  Though I don’t want to smile, I can’t quite help it. “Gregory told me I’m not allowed to be.”

  Avery looks over and grins. “That’s why I let him speak with you first.” Leaving Flink’s side, he comes to me and pulls me to my feet. His eyes search mine. “Are you all right?”

  There are too many people milling around, so I tug him away from the chaos. We find another small courtyard, this one with a sleeping fountain. It’s dark and still. Nervous but determined, I face Avery.

  “Did you mean it?” I don’t have to refer to his confession in the great hall. He knows. “Or did you say it so I would jump?”

  My pulse quickens, and I’m terrified of his answer. For a moment, he looks like he might brush the moment we had in the tunnel away, but then his features soften. “I meant it.”

  “I did too,” I whisper in a rush. “When I said it at the masquerade. I mean, I don’t actually remember, but—”

  I never finish the words because Avery yanks me against him and crushes his lips to mine. He smiles at my surprise, and I laugh and pull him closer. It’s sweeter than any kiss we’ve ever shared, not urgent, not forbidden, not rushed. Slow and perfect, with a slow-smoldering heat that makes my skin tingle.

  “Now what?” I murmur when he finally draws back. “Where do we go from here?”

  The same old obstacle lies between us, making the moment bittersweet.

  He rests his forehead against mine. “Come with me to Marlane.”

  The sea is not, and I doubt will ever be, my favorite place. But I want to be with Avery—even if that means another month or two on the water.

  “Yes, I suppose.” I shrug, nonchalant.

  Avery shakes his head and kisses me again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Can You Catch?

  Serena and Sam are gone. No one has seen them in days, and Dante swore to the king that he never touched her. The alchemist is in the dungeons, serving his time along with Ivan and their accomplices.

  As for us, we’re being heralded as heroes once again, much to Minerva’s chagrin. She smiles at me over her delicate tea cup, but the expression doesn’t meet her eyes. I don’t think we’ll be fast friends anytime soon.

  We sit in a royal parlor, enjoying a going away party of sorts. Avery’s grandmother and sister are here, and so is Lord Thane. It reminds me of my first day in the castle, but I don’t feel nearly as out of place.

  “Yes, we leave this afternoon,” Avery tells Harold.

  His Majesty nods, pleased. But then he turns to Sebastian. “So, if Lady Lucia goes with Avery, is this the end of your scouting partnership?”

  Sebastian and I share a look. We haven’t talked about it, in fact, we’ve avoided the subject completely.

  “Only temporarily,” Sebastian finally answers. “While Lucia assists Avery in his expedition, I will see that Adeline is properly settled in Reshire. I’m certain we’ll meet again soon afterward.”

  But he doesn’t sound certain. And I’m not either.

  Before the king can press further, a guard bursts into the room. “Your Majesty, Bib Hanhaust has been apprehended, and his wife and their steward are with him. We’ve held him for questioning.”

  “Who?” I ask Avery.

  The captain sits back. “Serena’s husband.”

  Harold nods, resolute. “Bring them in.”

  In just a few minutes, Serena sweeps into the room, a lovely vision in pale pink silk and flowing blond hair. “I don’t care if you are the king—how dare you accuse my husband of—” she stops short when she sees the rest of us. Confusion, and then fear, mars her lovely features.

  But she’s nowhere as confused as I am, because Bib Hanhaust himself is right behind her. Together, the couple is a human oxymoron. Where Serena is a goddess in the flesh, Bib is short, a bit paunchy, almost completely bald, and has a rather red nose.

  “Please forgive my wife, Your Majesty, but with all due respect,” Bib says when Serena is struck dumb, “these charges are ridiculous. Connected to alchemists concocting elixirs? I haven’t even been in Teirn!”

  “Bib,” Harold says, sounding very tired, “we already know you were involved with Dante—he admitted it. Not only were you providing the alchemist with the larkwings needed to make his illegal concoction, but you were using royal grant money to do so.”

  Bib’s eyebrows scrunch with genuine confusion. “I wasn’t selling larkwings to an alchemist! Why would I do that? They’re almost extinct! I have been working feverishly to preserve their species.” He’s worked himself up and is now quite indignant. “Why else do you think I was traipsing around in the forest, looking for a mate for the specimen I brought back several months ago?”

  King Harold looks rightly confused. Either Bib is an excellent actor, or he’s telling the truth. “Then why would Dante link you? What purpose could that possibly serve? It’s not like he was able to use you as a scapegoat—he’s in the dungeo
ns as we speak.”

  “Who is Dante?” Bib demands, then he turns to his wife. “Isn’t that the shopkeeper fellow your assistant is sweet on?”

  “Oh, no,” I murmur to myself, and everyone turns.

  “What?” Sebastian asks.

  I swallow and look right at Serena, asking for permission to speak of our agreement. She very subtly—but very insistently—shakes her head.

  Fine. I’ll see if I can work around it.

  I turn to Bib. “While you were away, your larkwing disappeared from your office—”

  Before I can finish the words, Bib gasps, overcome with horror.

  “Serena, desperate for its return,” I continue, looking right at her as I ignore him, “hired us to find it, and we…well…”

  Sebastian, sensing I’m struggling due to the lingering effects of the silencing charm, jumps in, “We tracked the butterfly back to Dante and his web of alchemists. When Lucia and Avery attended one of the masquerades to investigate” —he flashes us a wry look— “they learned that you were working with Dante, and that your scholars’ guild search was a cover-up. You were actually collecting the larkwings for Dante’s concoction.”

  Bib turns red. “I wasn’t—”

  “But we didn’t know that Dante was in a romantic relationship with Talia,” I interrupt. “She would have known where you were, and it would have been simple for Dante to say you were working together, when you, in fact, were not.”

  Serena goes pale, and she slowly raises a hand to her mouth, looking like she’s going to be ill. We all turn to her, but her gaze is locked on mine. Softly, she says, “It was Talia who convinced me to sell the butterfly.”

  “You what?” Bib exclaims, aghast.

  “She was the one who said you were having an affair—she said she saw you! And I—I was out of my mind with jealousy when you left that night, and when she said it would serve you right if I sold your larkwing…”

  Bib takes his wife by the shoulders—which is difficult since she is taller than he—and gives her a look of such genuine love, it makes me uncomfortable. “Serena, I told you then, and I will tell you now, you are my everything.”