“We will stop them,” he heard himself promise. “Now eat your dinner. We’ll swap spells in the restroom after. I need to put in a nose breather anyway.”
“Swap spells? You were serious then?”
“Yes, I’ve decided that I want to punch some things really, really hard.” He grinned at her. “And frankly, you should be neither seen nor heard if I am to keep my mind on being a spy.”
“Hmph!” Io picked up her fork and stabbed her cutlets. The plate shrieked as the tines raked over it.
“Careful, that’s your enchanted hand,” Jack warned. “You don’t want to stick that fork clean through the table.”
“No, but I wouldn’t mind sticking it through you.” She added, “You know, you smile way too much. You’re a death fey. You are supposed to be grim.”
“What can I say? Sometimes I just love my work.”
Io sighed. Lifting her cutlet out of its sauce, she stared at it intently. “It looks like turkey. Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Safe, yes. Turkey, no.”
Io shook her head at him, sending her dark hair sliding over her shoulders. “I can see why you aren’t married. No woman would ever be brave enough to date you twice. One dinner with you and they would all run away.” She paused, then complained in an amused voice, “You said no dubious meats.”
“Dubious meat wasn’t the problem. They were all terrified by my giant…uh…”
“Feet?” she asked sweetly; adding to the retort, “Which you like to keep in your mouth, right?” She colored again as she spoke, but refused to be drawn into his offered exchange of innuendo.
“Not feet. Don’t be ridiculous. And it’s just ten inches. And no, I don’t like to put it in my mouth,” he answered, enjoying her blush.
Io shook her head again and gingerly began eating. Her nose wrinkled as she chewed.
“I bet you spent a lot of time in the principal’s office when you were a kid,” she offered at last, after swallowing her first bite.
“Yeah.” He sighed reminiscently. “She loved me too.”
Io gave him a withering look and Jack promised himself that he would stop teasing her.
Soon.
Chapter Nine
They found a manhole cover in a deserted part of town and, after having a long listen for any suggestive noise from the underground, they climbed down the rusting iron ladder into the Labyrinth.
Io was without her protective contacts because Jack had insisted that they would impede her vision down in the dark tunnels. She also had the temporary charge of Jack’s invisibility spell. He had been adamant that they swap powers, and she had been so unnerved by the feel of his hands on her face and his unblinking gaze that she had quickly agreed to the switch.
It might have been a mistake, because she now had a vague feeling that Jack was all over her, like sweat on her skin. The constant vague tingling of his magic made it hard to ignore him.
They entered the first subterranean layer of Goblin Town to find a garbage dump that consisted mainly of dried fruit pulp. Io had a suspicion that it probably stank of vinegar and worse, and was grateful for her nose breather.
“This whole labyrinth’s a formicary,” Jack said softly. “And this is a goblin fruit compost heap. When the fruit rots enough, it’ll be recycled to feed the new plants.”
Io nodded, preferring not to open her mouth lest some of the air get in and coat her tongue. She thought she would likely gag if that happened. The “turkey” cutlets were not sitting all that well with her anyway.
The low spots in the tunnel they traveled had small puddles of dirty water that seemed to have seeped in through the tacky, glowing plaster that lined the uneven walls. Those tiny pools vibrated constantly, and Io made a point of avoiding them. It was a silly idea, but she had formed the notion that some of the puddles might be bottomless.
The level was laid out in a very gridlike manner, large open spaces lined with windowless buildings connected to other areas by more of the uneven tunnels. It was also largely deserted. Jack and Io only had to hang back twice while a scurrying goblin hurried from building to building with large parcels and baskets.
It was hot, humid, and as desolate as the moon, all under the pall of green light given off by the sticky plaster.
A constant clicking noise followed them, heard even over the growing hum of magic and machinery. Io found that the constant aural stimulation was making her teeth ache, and it scratched her nerves until they were raw.
They passed a water reservoir, its walls spackled with the same glowing plaster as the tunnels. The coating had an annoying habit of sticking to the soles of her shoes, and Io wondered if the goblins found it irritating to have on their feet. It certainly made moving about with stealth difficult since every step was accompanied by the sound of bubblegum peeling off linoleum.
Jack didn’t touch her once they were inside, but he stayed close. He was looking after her like Little Bo Peep, shepherding Io away from any bad wolves while she looked for her lost lambs. Only she wasn’t looking for innocent sheep. She was looking for a chemistry lab and the unseasonal fields of goblin fruit she suspected were growing there. And all the while she and Jack were playing hide-and-seek with subterranean nasties that worked for Horroban.
Goblin king, goblin king, where was the goblin king?
“It’s vast, isn’t it?” she whispered, trying to dispel the singsong voice in her head. She didn’t need auditory hallucinations to make the situation worse. “I had no idea it was this big.”
“I’ve never found the end of it,” Jack answered, his voice barely louder than the mechanical hum that whined around them like an angry mosquito. “Admittedly, I haven’t explored all that much. But this underground runs clear to the river.”
“You were right about it being like a hive. Don’t laugh at me, but have you ever seen evidence that the goblins have a queen? A breeder?”
He frowned at her. “Don’t take my analogy about the cockroaches too literally. The goblins are very different than mindless insects.”
“I know. The fact that they can think only makes them more dangerous.” Io listened to the clicking. It did sound a lot like giant cockroaches. Unnerved, she asked again: “But do you think they maybe have a queen somewhere—the way ants do?”
“I hope not! Though, a lot of ant queens will eat their own young when hungry, so it might not be all bad if they did.” Jack paused in front of some burn marks on the tunnel wall. It was hard to see in the strange light, but it looked as if something liquid had splattered and blistered the paint. Jack was careful not to touch it.
“Ants squirt acid,” Io said. She rubbed at her forehead. Either the heat or the constant humming was getting to her. She was beginning to feel dizzy.
“Formic acid,” he agreed. “But last I looked, goblins weren’t going around spraying. The little skunks stink generally, but they don’t squirt.”
“Yeah? But what if we haven’t seen all the goblins? What if there are worker goblins who never go up top? They could be different.”
Jack appeared to consider this. “Who would they be squirting at?”
“Other goblins? Intrepid junkies looking for the fruit fields?” Io rubbed her forehead. “Or maybe my stupid imagination has gone galloping down the high road to outright paranoia.”
“If there are goblins who are squirting acid that can burn stone, I hope we never see them,” Jack said slowly. He looked at his watch and then Io’s face. He seemed to reach some decision. “Come on. I know where one of the fruit fields is located. Let’s get our sample and then get you out of here. You look green.”
“Well, so do you.” She paused. “What about Neveling Lutin?”
“If there’s time, we’ll look for his place. But this may be more important—finding the fruit fields. I am beginning to think there is a whole lot down here we don’t know about. Come on, the field’s this way.” Jack touched her arm, gently causing a brief arc on Io’s skin. She pulled back quickly.
His lovely lips thinned as he pressed them together, but he didn’t say anything before starting back up the tunnel.
Feeling increasingly unwell, Io followed. A part of her wanted to take Jack’s hand and lean her throbbing head against his shoulder, but she didn’t do it. This wasn’t the time for magic pheromone sparks, or whatever it was that went on between her and Jack when they touched.
It was a little late for second thoughts, but Io knew now that she had miscalculated, that the longer she and Jack were exposed to each other’s company, the more involved her heart became. She could fight her feelings for a while, but not if her body—and Jack—worked against her. She’d never survive two weeks.
And if she started getting touchy-feely now, there wouldn’t be any reasonable argument for stopping him later—except the one she wasn’t willing to discuss. So, it was strictly hands-off. Clearly, she had to get this job done as soon as possible and put some distance between them.
One small touch and Io had turned cagey on him again.
Jack shook his head.
He could see that she was suffering, beginning to get a pressure headache from the dank air and bad light, but since she didn’t want it, he didn’t try to touch her again. Under other circumstances, or with some other woman, he might have taken her in his arms and comforted her with a healing spell. But he knew it would only do more harm than good if he tried it with Io. For some reason, she was bent on resisting him.
He had every intention of finding out why, too— but exploring the kinks in her psyche would have to wait for a more auspicious moment.
Jack stopped at the end of the tunnel and looked about carefully before stepping into the large chamber beyond. He estimated its size at about twenty acres. This was one of the smaller fields.
The ceiling was low and ragged, having been blasted out of solid rock and never finished. There was no reason to pretty the place up. The plants didn’t care what the cave looked like. They stuck their roots down into the stone and slurped up whatever the goblins brought them, and then gave birth to their addictive fruit.
Io gasped softly as she stepped into the room. “Goddess, save us! It’s October, but look at the fruit! I’ve never seen a field this full.”
Jack turned to look at her instead. She appeared horrified right to the backs of her big blue eyes. Her arms were folded across her chest. Her neck was hunched as though hiding from a cold wind. And maybe she was cold. The chamber’s ambient temperature had to be at least ninety-five degrees, but some kinds of chill had nothing to do with the body. If you were smart enough to consider the implications of this fruit, then your nerves were bound to take a chill. This farm at full production in the fall represented something worse for humans than all the opium fields or coca plantations combined. If that didn’t freeze the nerves, nothing would.
Jack pulled out a knife and quickly sliced through the nearest vine. The severed stem bled red, drooling out sap that looked just like blood. He quickly wrapped the piece of nearly ripe fruit in his bandanna and dropped it into his coat pocket.
“I never thought you could actually look bad,” he said unkindly, knowing the insult would be as bracing as a glass of cold water dashed in Io’s face. “But right now you are the color of cheese mold.”
Io blinked once and then indignation dawned. Her arms unfolded and her spine shot up. “Well, you’re not looking like any sex god yourself, Mister Mildew.”
Jack refrained from laughing at her return insult. He made a point of checking his watch again. “We have to go.”
“What about Neveling?”
“Tomorrow night,” he said.
He hadn’t planned on bringing her back underground, really, but perhaps it was the lesser of two evils. H.U.G.’s mortality rate had gone way up since they’d started their policy of direct confrontation with goblins. Xanthe might have plans, but Io was one operative who wasn’t going to be used as goblin fodder. Jack’s job was dangerous, but Io was safer with him than being pushed around like a pawn by Queen Xanthe. He planned on keeping her far away from H.U.G.
“We need to be out of here when the topside goblins start pouring back in at dawn,” Jack pointed out as he wiped the beading sweat from his brow. This, the goblin underground, was the only place where he perspired. He figured it had more to do with his body trying to rid itself of toxins than the Labyrinth’s actual heat. “They’d buy the poor lost tourist shtick up there, but no way would they let us go if they found us down here. Not with fruit. Not when we are fey and packing spells.”
Io nodded once. She tried to hide it, but she looked relieved they were going back up. Air down in the Labyrinth took getting used to, mostly because there was a lot less of it. Her head was probably pounding from the lack of oxygen, and even for the green light she looked exceptionally nauseated.
He gave her credit for trying, though. The thought of confronting two carnivorous gargoyles was daunting even when one wasn’t feeling sick. It took a dedicated person to suggest it when she was feeling ill.
“I have some home-brewed antihistamine back at my place,” Jack said as he started back toward the exit. “It’s mostly cognac with a few herbs, but it will help your head and stomach.”
“Antihistamine?” Io asked, moving quickly to keep up with him. He wished he could stay behind her and watch her walk. Too bad he had to take point, because her heels gave her a nice feminine sway.
“Yeah. You have goblin allergies,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’ll get you set up before we come back down again. A good day’s sleep and a shot of my home brew and you’ll feel terrific.”
“Oh. I didn’t know we could have allergies to anything.” She sounded reassured by the explanation. “Jack? About going home with you—”
“Don’t bother arguing,” he interrupted. “You said you were in, little fey. That means you’re in all the way.”
“Zayn is going to be looking for me,” she argued. “I just sort of ditched Xanthe and him without telling them anything. With ticks saying I’m stuck in some nightclub bathroom when I am clearly not there, they are probably going bonkers.”
Jack smiled at the idea of the cool Queen Xanthe going bonkers.
“Let the pretty boy look. We’ll catch up with Zayn tomorrow if you really want to see him. Come to think of it, that’s an excellent plan. He can get someone to water your houseplants and feed the parakeet.”
“I don’t have a parakeet! And it isn’t a matter of wanting to see him,” she explained.
“It is now. And wants take a backseat to needs. What you need to do is become real scarce around your former compatriots. Your presence from here on out will be rarer than hen’s teeth or dragon’s tears as far as H.U.G. is concerned.” Jack looked back at her. He made his voice flat so she would know he wasn’t kidding. “You’re on my team until this job is done, Io Cyphre. New team, new rules. One of those rules is that you see people from the outside only in controlled situations. Another rule is that you lie to everyone at H.U.G., because the less they know about where you are and what you’re doing the better for both of us. You see, there’s a sort of balance of physics in this kind of work, a mathematical equation that doesn’t vary. H.U.G. has spies here? You can bet the goblins have spies there.”
Io thought about this. “You want me to lie to everyone?”
“Except me.” Jack considered whether he needed to threaten her with anything to ensure her obedience, and decided against it since he couldn’t think of anything dire that he would actually be willing to do to her. “So…you are coming back to my place tonight, and we are going to have a toast to our partnership with some antihistamine. And then you’re going to bed so you have the strength to kick goblin ass tomorrow night.”
He waited to see what Io would say to this high-handedness. Usually she would be angry and very inquisitive about his plans. Put some whiskers on her and she could pass for a cat in that regard. Therefore he knew she had to be feeling re
ally wretched when all she asked was, “What shall we drink to? Confusion of the enemy?”
“That’s a damn fine start, don’t you think?” Jack stopped in front of the ladder. “I’m going up to open the cover. Wipe your shoes off as best you can—we don’t want to leave tracks all over the street.”
He thought he heard her mutter, “So much for Little Bo Peep and her sheep.” He wondered what she meant.
Maybe he deserved a set of whiskers, too, for curiosity where Io was concerned.
Chapter Ten
It started to rain once they were back inside Jack’s gothic retreat. Watery dawnlight pressed its way past the dirty-paned windows, edging through the bit of glass scrubbed clean by the cloudburst and sending phantom rivulets of green running down the far wall.
Amazingly, Io was feeling sleepy. Somewhere along the long walk back to Jack’s she had gotten comfortable with him.
“Would you like a shower?” Jack asked. “There’s water here.”
Io hesitated. “Without clean clothes—”
“Use one of my shirts for now. One of us can go out tomorrow and pack some things up for you.” One, but not both. Someone had to stay in the city and hold the spells they’d collected. Without someone to keep them, they would probably melt back into the earth from which they’d come.
“Okay. That sounds good.” Getting clean before bed suddenly seemed immensely appealing.
“There’s a shirt hanging on the back of the door, and soap in the shower. Ignore the markings on the tap—I’m afraid the water only comes in lukewarm no matter where you set the dial.”
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