Goddess Unbound: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Airluds Trilogy Book 3)

by Nhys Glover

  No one present.... But black-hair was missing, which worried me.

  As the gathering settled, I moved to the front to have a private word with Trace.

  "That black-haired lad is missing. I'm worried," I said quietly.

  Trace shot a look at a small, skinny man in the second row. He hadn't been in at any time during the day, so I had to assume he was one of Trace's friends already informed and onboard with the change of allegiance. Although he was too far out of range for me to read him at the moment, to check my theory out.

  "Kean, will you come here," Trace said, his voice just as low as mine.

  The little man came over to us immediately, his face fixed in a frown.

  "What do you think?" Trace said, as if this Kean would know what we'd been talking about.

  "I think I better get out front and keep watch. Laric is an ambitious pup and might decide those ambitions could be met more quickly by turning on us."

  "That's what Red thinks."

  When Kean disappeared out the one door to the room, I looked a question at Trace.

  "Hearing is his magic. The man can hear a coin drop from a block away. I should have thought to put him on watch before this, so thank you for giving me reason to do so now. He will hear any troopers coming well in advance of their arrival."

  I sighed and relaxed a little. If this Laric had turned traitor, there would still be time to escape.

  While Trace explained about the Prophesy that had foretold of a magical daughter who would make right the wrongs of the Godling, I continued to read the room, moving about unnoticed. Though my mind was on the audience, I couldn't help being impressed by the way our newest rebel spoke. His commitment to Airsha and her cause was in every word and every gesture. And all his fellow Abominations picked up on it and committed to the cause because of him.

  It wasn't a long meeting. Men like these became uncomfortable when they had to remain in one place too long. So when I gave Trace the go-ahead, he finished by telling everyone the location of the rebel stronghold and assured them they would be welcomed there whenever they could get away. He ended with a broad grin of satisfaction, as if he'd achieved his goal and was content.

  Just as the men began to rise, Kean flung open the door and raced in. "Troops coming fast. We're in it, gents. We're in it deep!"

  Men dashed from the room − though not in panic − which impressed me. They waited their turn at the bottle-neck and then surged out into the taproom beyond. In a matter of moments the room was almost empty.

  Trace grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door. Zem materialised from somewhere and fell into step on the other side of me.

  "We have to get out of town now," Trace announced tersely, his dark eyes wild. I could read his anxiety, though most of it was for us. He was afraid he'd led us into a trap.

  Didn't he understand that this was on me? My big mouth had brought disaster down on us.

  Together we crossed the packed taproom and made it outside into the darkness and comparative quiet. Kean was waiting for us there.

  "A block away and closing fast," he said, looking back over his shoulder.

  We turned in the opposite direction to the one he indicated and began striding away, not too fast as to attract attention, but fast enough.

  "There will be more coming in from other directions," Trace muttered, just loud enough for me to hear. "The exits out of town are probably blocked too. And they may have a Dampener with them, or be carrying that magic in amulet form. If they are wise, they will dampen all our magic to make us easier to catch."

  "If they have dampener spells it means there can be no other magical sons to deal with," I pointed out, trying to appease him a little.

  He nodded, but didn't seem relieved by the thought.

  "How many?" he asked Kean.

  The small man frowned as he jogged to keep up with Trace's much longer strides. We were all having to do that. "Hard to tell. Anywhere from twenty to forty I'd say. Oh shite, more coming up in front of us. They're probably trying to surround the Crown and Thorn on all sides."

  "Then we hide until they pass," Zem said, thinking fast. I was amazed how clear his mind was. Not an anxious, button-counting moment anywhere. "They don't know we're gone yet and will be heading in closer to spring the trap."

  Trace, whose fear had spiked at Kean's news, calmed immediately. He looked at Zem with renewed respect. "You are right. Just until they have passed."

  We covered another block before we found an alleyway that would suit our purposes. Heading down it, we hid behind piles of refuse, which stank to high heaven, and waited. Sure enough, no more than a few minutes later, the sound of booted feet could be heard. As many as twenty? I was not good at judging numbers from sound. I wasn't good at judging numbers from looking, either. Even my guess on how many had come to the Crown and Thorn was questionable. I was basically an airling when it came to numbers.

  Once the marching footsteps had passed, we crept out and looked after the receding troopers. They were well down the cobbled street, and none looked back. It was a fault I'd noticed with soldiers in formation. All eyes were always forward. None ever saw what was going on behind. Not that I was complaining. It served us well right now.

  We took off with more speed than we had at first. There was no time to be trying to stay unnoticed. The edge of town was coming up fast and a league beyond it our airlings could be waiting, if they had arrived yet. It was still early. They would fly over before the moon rose but not by much.

  We were nearing the main thoroughfare out of town. There'd been two guards manning the point when we entered the other day, so it was likely there'd be two or more there now.

  "Let me go first," I said hastily, the plan coming together in my mind quicker than I would have expected. "I look too young to be one of you, and I can claim I got left behind by my wagoner father. I'd been drinking and he left me behind as punishment. Now I have to walk to catch him up. I can listen to their thoughts and see if they have a dampener spell on them or nearby. If so, we can come up with a new plan. But I should be able to at least tell how many guards are on post." I was always good at coming up with a story to explain my actions, and this was no exception. I was pleased with what I'd concocted.

  Trace looked at Zem and he nodded, cautiously. "It's sound. But be careful, Flea."

  I grinned at him with as much bravado as I could muster. "When am I not?"

  "Give us a sign if there's no dampening," Zem said. "Tie your bootlace if it's safe. Sneeze if it's not."

  I nodded. "Do I wait or go on?"

  "Wait," Zem told me with the kind of authority Kean found outrageous for someone so young.

  I could hear him wondering what in blazes was going on. When had Trace got stupid enough to hand over the reins to a lad?

  Zem continued. "Just argue while we approach. That's if there's no dampener. Come back if there is."

  I checked with Trace and he agreed. Drawing up a deep breath and all my conster skills, I became a slightly drunk wagoner abandoned by his dah.

  I staggered a little as I approached the guard post, but not too much to be obvious. When I was hailed and told to stop, I did so immediately, looking around me a little blearily. I knew what it felt like to be drunk, and I was drawing on that memory to see me through this.

  "Where d'ya thin' yer goin' lad?" A big burly guard approached me. He was bored and felt like having a little fun with me. Maybe he'd scare me a little.

  There was no sense of a dampener at work. I could read him clearly. So I immediately dropped to the ground and began fiddling with my shoelace.

  "Just a min," I said to the man a little drunkenly. "Boot lace always comes loose."

  I heard footsteps coming up behind me fast so I started talking as I rose, trying to keep the guards' attention on me.

  "You, over there, you seen my Dah's wagon?" I asked the other guard, who was slumped against the gate post looking just as bored as his partner.

  They'd been warned reb
els might try to flee the town tonight but he thought it was just another false alarm. They were always telling them to keep watch for rebels. That was their job, wasn't it? What did they think, that they'd let rebels through just because they weren't warned to watch for them? And, besides, what rebel would be in this close to the Godling's own palace and his soldiers' main base camp. They'd be plain stupid if they were.

  "No wagon came through here," he said in annoyance.

  Bully Boy was moving into my personal space, and I tried to look suitably scared. I probably succeeded. I was scared, after all, though not of him.

  "He had to have. I was supposed to be with him but I had a few too many in the pub and when I went to the stables our wagon was gone. He has to have gone through here in the last few turns. I have to catch up to him."

  "No wagon went through here," Bully Boy repeated, giving me a shove. I let myself fall back a little and flailed my arms dramatically to keep my balance.

  "No need for that! I done nothing wrong. Not to youse, anyway. My Dah'll think otherwise, but that's between him and me."

  I knew the others were here and watched as Trace did his thing on the other guard while Zem landed a punishing blow to Bully Boy's gut. With a loud oomph, the guard doubled over.

  "Scaring young lads is not a wise idea," I told him sweetly. "Better to be watching out for rebels."

  Trace approached us quickly and did his thing on Bully Boy, who was still trying to get air into his lungs. It was surprisingly simple. A hand on his arm and a few muttered words of instruction to forget what he was seeing and any other rebels who passed this checkpoint tonight.

  I marvelled at the way the other guard's mind was now still and blank. No, not completely blank. It was on a kind of wheel where a few thoughts kept circling around; thoughts about how bored he was, how he was watching for rebels and how much his feet hurt.

  When Bully Boy stood up straight again, he had a similar expression on his face to his partner and similar thoughts going around and around in his small mind. I wanted to laugh in amazement. Before I could, Kean was listening again.

  "More footsteps coming. Running. Just a few. Probably ours," Kean informed us.

  "That's fine. These kind gentlemen will not even notice them. Tonight their memories will be empty of any rebels passing through this gate," Trace replied with a confident smile.

  Our greatest fear had not come to pass. Unless there was a detachment waiting for us in the countryside somewhere, we were home free.

  Kean listened intently for a moment more and then nodded. "I'll wait here for the others to come through. They won't know they can access this gate otherwise. I'll see you soon, brother."

  Trace nodded and turned with us to leave. "Come on, let us just hope they did not plan any further ahead than to surround the hostelry and alert the guards to rebel activity."

  I nodded and took Zem's hand. Together we followed Trace into the darkness.

  The league was covered in a little under half a turn. Every step had both relief and fear attached to it. Relief we were leaving the danger behind, fear that we might be approaching more.

  But when we reached the spot where we'd landed, there was no sign of a trap. Trace lit a torch, which we'd left hidden between rocks nearby, and stuck it in the ground. It was our signal to the airlings to land.

  For another full turn we waited on tender-hooks. My stomach was so churned up I wanted to vomit up the stew I'd eaten at the Crown and Thorn. If the torch was seen by anyone, they would come looking. And by now the fact we had escaped would be known. The streets and homes would all have been searched. How many of Trace's brethren were already captured? How many troopers were being sent into the countryside, right this moment, to search for more escaping rebels? Maybe not in this direction, if we were lucky − because the guards would report no one had exited the gate that night − but in other directions.

  Our mission had been a total failure. Now, not only was Trace a fugitive, but so were the men who had come to the Crown and Thorn to hear him. Why did I have to show off and open my big mouth?

  "Maybe some will get away. Kean will, and the men who were approaching as we left. Not everyone will be captured," I said aloud what Trace needed to hear.

  He was beating himself up as much as I was. But he wasn't to blame for any of it. I was. If I hadn't opened my smart mouth, black-haired Laric would still be with his brothers and the meeting would have ended without discovery. It was all my fault.

  I heard the airlings before I saw them. The sound of their huge leathery wings flapping overhead was unmistakable. Zem and I were both looking skyward before Trace understood what was happening. Then, without fanfare, our rescuers landed and looked in our direction.

  I had missed Spot so much in the days since I'd last seen him. I rushed to his side and flung my arms around his huge neck and wept into his warm fur. A little flustered at first by the ferocity of my greeting, Spot settled down quickly to accept his due. I felt love rippling from him and surrounding me like a warm blanket.

  But there was no time for reunions. I could hear the sound of beastlings thundering our way. I wasn't the only one. Zem jumped on Storm and waited while I did the same. Trace was a little slower to mount, but the approaching troopers were enough incentive to get him over his anxiety about taking to the air again.

  In moments we were all airborne. But we weren't away safe yet. Arrows began zinging up at us. I heard them whizzing past my ear. The airlings rose higher, flapping their great wings to give them the lift they needed to get out of range.

  As fast as it happened, the volley was over. I couldn't see much in the darkness, but I knew we were all still in the air. We rode on through the dark of night until we reached the edge of Godslund territory, and the moon began to appear on the horizon, big and white and welcome.

  I don't know how long we'd been flying when I realised there was a problem. Bay was falling behind and dropping lower. Gods, had she been hit? Airsha would never forgive me if her beloved airling died.

  We were flying over Badlunds, I knew that much, and we hadn't seen a light below us in some time. I circled back to see what was wrong. Zem must have seen me bank because he followed.

  Bay was coming in for a landing. I saw her hopping and then finally coming to a stop. I took Spot down, with Zem no more than a few wing-flaps behind me.

  As I landed, I saw what was wrong. Trace was sliding off Bay's back. By the time I reached him, he'd fallen to the rocky ground. An arrow protruded from his chest, and dark blood covered the front of his tunic.

  Zem and I raced to his side to try to make out how badly he was hit. Bad enough that he would have fallen from Bay's back if she hadn't brought him down, I knew that well enough.

  Gods, not Trace! Airsha loved this man, and had fought so hard to keep him alive. Now I'd killed him? No, I couldn't accept it. He couldn't be dying!

  By moonlight, we stared down at the prostrate man. I sobbed and looked at Zem, wanting him to take charge. Wanting him to have answers about what we were to do.

  It wasn't right. The Goddess had a plan and Trace was part of it. She'd let Airsha be captured so she could bring Trace into the fold and the other Abominations with him. Dying now wasn't part of the plan. It couldn't be!

  I kneeled down at his side and cut away the front of his tunic with my knife. Blood was running in rivulets out of his mouth. He kept coughing up more. This was not good. I knew this wasn't good.

  Zem saw how my hands were shaking and how my frightened sobs were interfering with the job of checking his injury. Not much better off than I was, he still pushed me gently aside and tore more of the tunic away. The arrow had missed his heart, otherwise he would not have survived this long, but it had nicked something vital.

  Trace was conscious and I could hear his anguished thoughts. They were all for Airsha. He knew he was dying, and he'd never see her again. That thought hurt more than dying did.

  "You aren't going to die!" I told him hysterically, loo
king at Zem for confirmation. But my friend was staring at the arrow defeatedly.

  "Take it out! Take it out! We can't let him die. The Goddess needs him. She didn't save him from the beastling attack to have him die so soon after. She wouldn't want that!"

  I was babbling, and Zem was looking at me with anguished, silent tears trickling down his hollow cheeks. "If I pull it out it'll only bleed more. It'll cause more harm than good."

  I shook my head, denying the truth of his words. Denying everything that was happening. We'd got away. He hadn't fallen off Bay. He had to be able to survive. If we could just find shelter and a healer. Someone better than two helpless childlings. Anyone else would know what to do. Airsha should never have sent us... Me... This was all on me!

  "Tell her I do not regret my choices," Trace gasped out, though I understood his mangled words because his thoughts were clear. No question who the her he referred to was. It was Airsha. Always Airsha.

  Gods, this wasn't happening!

  One more cough and the stream of blood slowed to a stop. A moment of hope before realisation hit. A dead man doesn't bleed. His heart can't beat to keep the blood flowing.

  A dead man doesn't bleed.

  The wracking sobs broke free then, so ferocious they took even me by surprise. Zem wrapped his arms around my spasming body. I was drowning in my tears and guilt. And my fury at the Goddess. How could she let this happen?! He'd just found himself again. He'd just started to believe he was more than an abomination, a mistake of nature. He was just starting to look to the future with hope.

  The futility of it gutted me.

  "We have to get moving, Flea. We have to get back to safety," Zem said when I calmed a little.

  "What about... him?" I managed to get out.

  "We can't tie him onto Bay. He has to stay," Zem muttered, starting to lose himself in counting again. I felt him distancing himself from what was happening with his repeated patterns and actions that needed to be done and done again. I felt it as abandonment. Just when I needed him most, he was leaving me too.