by Kris Greene
“Who said anything about Jonas? Look, I’m part of the reason that Redfeather isn’t here, so rescuing him falls on me too. I just happen to have the perfect plan to get us into the Iron Mountains.”
“Well, spill it already,” he said anxiously.
“I can show you better than I can tell you. Come on.” She led him toward the exit.
“Wait, what about Rogue and the others?”
“Gabriel, there’s no telling how long they’re gonna be and we still don’t know what kind of time your grandfather has left. Do you really wanna risk us getting there too late?”
Gabriel thought about it for a second. “No.”
“Good, then move your ass. It’ll be sunset in a little while and we gotta get moving.”
It took some doing, but Gabriel and De Mona finally figured out how to work the elevators and headed to the lower levels of the compound. Gabriel felt guilty for going behind Jonas’s back and stealing from his workshop, but De Mona assured him that it was for the greater good. They visited six different levels before they finally found the one they were looking for, the one that housed the holding cells. It was an underground chamber with a half dozen small cells carved into the stone walls. This served as the rarely used, but highly secure dungeon.
“Smells like piss down here,” Gabriel said when he stepped off the elevator.
“I’ll be sure to voice your complaints to the cleaning staff,” De Mona said sarcastically. She sniffed the air, trying to find a particular scent. When she located it, she followed her nose to the cell at the far end where Gilchrest was being kept.
“Rise and shine, asshole,” she said, banging on the bars.
Gilchrest snarled and lunged at the cage. Asha’s binding spell had worn off, but he was still a captive and not happy about it.
Gabriel smiled a little. Somehow it pleased him to know that.
“Let me out and I tear that smile from your face, Redskin,” Gilchrest threatened.
Gabriel released a small spark from his hand, making Gilchrest back up. “Keep running your mouth and I’ll see how much power it takes to bake that thick skin you goblins are so proud of.”
“Come here to taunt me more, you have?” Gilchrest eyed them.
“No, we’ve actually come to take you for a little walk.” Gabriel held up the collar Jonas had showed them earlier.
“Come in, if you dare. Rend you I will,” Gilchrest threatened, backing away from the bars.
“Oh, I’m sure those nasty little claws of yours would do quite a number on me, which is why I’m not coming in.” Gabriel looked to De Mona, who was grinning from ear to ear. He waved his hand over the digital lock on the cage door, shorting it out. “Ms. Sanchez, would you be so kind as to help me put this on our little friend?”
De Mona’s face changed and her claws extended. “Gladly.” She stepped into the cage. True to his word, Gilchrest attacked. He was incredibly quick, but hardly a match for De Mona in her demon form. She plucked the goblin up by his arms and began pulling them apart until she could hear the bones cracking.
“Vile demon, break my arms you will!” Gilchrest howled in pain.
“I sure will, unless you calm down and act like you’ve got some sense,” she told him.
“Agreed, agreed, no problems from Gilchrest,” the goblin whimpered.
“He’s all yours, Gabriel.”
“Thank you.” He stepped into the cage and placed the collar around Gilchrest’s neck. Once it was secured he clicked a device that was strapped to his wrist and the flashing green lights of the collar became solid red. “You can let him go now.”
De Mona looked at him. “But what if he tries to attack again?”
“Let him. I figured out how to work this thing on the way down here and if he attacks it’s gonna hurt him more than it hurts me,” Gabriel said, playing with the controls.
No sooner had De Mona released Gilchrest than he charged at Gabriel. The goblin launched himself into the air with his claws poised to take out Gabriel’s eyes. Gabriel shook his head and hit the switch on his wrist. Gilchrest dropped like a stone. He rolled around the floor feverishly clutching at the collar, which was sending electric currents through his nervous system. Gabriel kept it up for a few seconds to make sure the goblin got the point and shut off the charge.
“Witchcraft,” Gilchrest croaked when he was able to speak again.
“Not witchcraft. Good old-fashioned technology,” Gabriel told him. “Grabbing the collar was a great idea, De Mona.”
“I told you I had it all worked out,” she said proudly. “Now let’s get moving.” She grabbed Gilchrest by the collar and shoved him out of the cage.
“Where are you taking me?” Gilchrest asked timidly as he made his way out of the cell.
“We’re not taking you anywhere, but you’re gonna take us someplace. We need to find the entrance to the Iron Mountains,” Gabriel said.
Gilchrest looked at him and fell over laughing. “Just as foolish as ugly you are, human. If death is what you look for, remove the collar and I will give it to you.” Gabriel sent another charge through the collar and silenced the goblin’s laughing.
Gabriel grabbed Gilchrest by the collar and lifted him off the ground. “I’ve been hitting you with the low setting, but if you keep trying my patience I’m gonna crank this baby up and see how tough the body of a goblin really is. We’ve got something Orden wants and he has something we want. We can do this clean and everybody is happy, or we can do this messy”—Gabriel called the lightning to his hand—“and everybody loses. But with or without your help we’re going into the Iron Mountains to find my grandfather.”
“Can I shock him this time?” De Mona asked, reaching for the control.
“No more, no more. I lead you,” Gilchrest conceded.
“Good, now let’s get moving.” Gabriel dropped him to the ground. “Do you really think we can trust him?” he whispered to De Mona.
“Not really, but he’s our best shot at getting into the mountains and the only thing we have to barter with. Let’s get topside so we can do this as quickly as possible. It’s dark outside and there’s no telling what we may run into on the way.”
“Hold on, De Mona, how are we supposed to get to the Iron Mountains?” Gabriel asked.
De Mona smirked. “I told you I had a plan.”
“This is your plan?” Gabriel asked in shock. They were back on the main level in the hangar, looking at a Mini Cooper that had seen better days. One of the front tires was sitting on a doughnut while the other was patched with layers of duct tape.
De Mona shrugged. “Hey, all I can do is work with what I have. We can either jack this or the Hummer, but I think the Mini will draw a lot less attention.”
“No way for a goblin prince to travel,” Gilchrest mumbled.
“We could be delivering you in a body bag, so if I were you I’d shut my hole,” De Mona snapped at the goblin.
“This is too damn crazy.” Gabriel shook his head. “We don’t even have the keys.”
“You don’t need a key when you’re rolling with De Mona Sanchez.” She climbed under the dashboard and began playing with the wires. Within a few seconds the car coughed to life. “We gonna do this or what?”
Gabriel sighed. “Okay, let’s go.” He got in on the passenger side and placed Gilchrest between them in case he tried something funny. De Mona revved the engine and threw the car in gear, but then something dawned on Gabriel. “How are we gonna get the hangar door open?”
“I appropriated the car and the collar. This one is on you,” she told him.
“Great,” Gabriel said and leaned out the window. He focused, channeling his emotions until he could feel the familiar tingle of power in his gut. With a grunt, he released a bolt of lightning that smashed a hole in the hangar door. Alarms sounded all through the complex. “I sure hope Jonas doesn’t get too pissed about this.”
“He’ll thank us for it when we save the world.” She threw the car in gear
and peeled out of the hangar en route to the Iron Mountains.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The fog was slow to lift from Redfeather’s head. He found himself strapped to a wooden cross that was suspended from rusty chains over a large wooden table in a room full of goblins and Flagg the mage who had been with them during the battle at Sanctuary. Sitting at the head of the table was Orden and he did not look happy.
“Glad you could join us, little rabbit.” Orden slapped the cross, spinning Redfeather until he was dizzy. “You murdered several of my brothers, old man.”
“And I would’ve slain more if I had the chance,” Redfeather said defiantly. This got a hostile roar from the goblins assembled. One of them even hit him in the face with a piece of rotten meat.
“Silence!” Orden slammed his fist against the table, spilling ale all over everyone. The room got deathly quiet except for the soft squeak of the chain as Redfeather swung back and forth. Orden eventually stopped his swinging when he grabbed Redfeather by the face. “The price for an outsider slaying a goblin is death.”
When Redfeather saw the hungry look in Orden’s eyes, his entire life flashed before him. As much as he wanted to plead for his life he wouldn’t give the goblins, or the onlooking mage, the satisfaction. “Do what you will, goblin. I’ll see the lot of you in hell.”
“Indeed you will, flesh sack. Let the punishment fit the crime!” Orden bellowed and opened his jaws impossibly wide to bite Redfeather’s head off.
“Wait,” Flagg spoke up, surprising everyone, especially Redfeather. All eyes in the room turned to the mage. He was Rogue’s magician and Titus’s closest advisor. Flagg’s face was a mask of calm, but the icy sweat running down his forehead betrayed his fear. He only hoped that his hosts couldn’t smell it. “The old man may be of use to us.”
“Bah, what use could this mortal possibly serve other than sating the hunger of our prince?” Illini, asked, drawing a murmur from the crowd.
Flagg swallowed, knowing he was about to take one hell of a gamble. “Because it is the progeny of this human who wielded the weapon that defeated your goblins on the field of combat. Using him to lure in the grandson is the only way you will have your revenge and restore honor to this great court.”
Orden’s eyes flashed with rage as he sped toward Flagg, knocking over chairs and goblins as he passed. “And what do you know of honor, mage? What do any of you topsiders know of dying on the battlefield with the blood of your enemies staining your lips? The goblins threw in our lot with the demons because we were promised power and flesh, but so far all we have been dealt is death for the fool’s mission Titus sent us to perform. The so-called whelp you sent us after turned day into night before our very eyes. This is a feat that not even your most powerful sorcerers could accomplish, yet this boy as you called him did so with ease!” He kicked over a table.
“I have only heard stories about the kind of powers the boy turned against us topside. It was old magic, older than even us, I fear,” Illini offered softly. He was Titus’s most trusted aide and executioner. Illini was a fierce warrior and his hand of fire made him deadly in a fight. He had stolen the arm of an elemental and taken it for his own, giving him command over fire.
Orden turned on his friend and most trusted captain and slapped him across the room. Blood rage seized Illini, but as powerful as he was, he knew better than to rebel against the prince unless he was ready to battle to the death.
“Before the goblins, savages infested the world like ticks on a dog. Before the goblins, there was nothing. None is greater than the empire.” Orden snatched Illini to his feet. “NONE!”
Illini kept his eyes locked on his feet, which were hovering off the ground. “None, my prince.”
For a second Orden’s eyes became sane again and he placed his friend down gently, but as quickly as the sanity came, it faded. His rage needed a new target. When his eyes landed on Flagg, the mage flinched. “You brought this on us.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Flagg.
“Me?” Flagg took a step back as the goblin prince approached him. The honor guard closed ranks behind him, more than willing to sacrifice the mage to assuage their prince’s rage. “Great prince, I assure you I have no idea what you mean.”
“Oh, but you do.” Orden drew a blade from his belt. “You and your bootlicking master called on us to help you capture the weapon from a helpless human child, but what you did was lead us into the fires of a god. That was no boy we faced—it was the Bishop made flesh again!”
Flagg knew that even if he had the chance to call up a spell powerful enough to strike Orden down, the others would maul him before he could reach the door, so he tried a different approach.
“Great and wise prince . . .” Flagg dropped to his knees at Orden’s feet. “On the honor of my house and my children I swear that we did not know the power had awakened in the boy. We would never be so foolish as to make a false offering of flesh to the almighty goblin empire.”
A low grumbling escaped from Orden. Everyone in the room prayed it was a laugh. “Flagg, you have no honor and whatever bastards you may lay claim to were no doubt sold into slavery long ago to further your master’s gains. Do not try to make a fool of me twice, mage.” Orden began pacing the room. “Not only did the order defeat my soldiers, but they have captured my brother. All goblins are protected by the sword of their prince and to touch one of the royal families is to die a thousand deaths. There will be a reckoning and Titus will help see to it.”
Before Flagg could respond, there was a soft knock on the door. One of the honor guards stepped out into the hall and came back a few seconds later with a dwarf in tow. He was an elderly man with wild hair and a clean-shaven face. When he looked into the fiery eyes of Orden, a wet spot appeared at the center of his dingy pants.
“Are you miserable dwarves deaf as well as dumb? The prince left orders that he was not to be disturbed while we were in council,” Illini snapped.
“Please forgive me, but I thought you would want to hear this right away,” the dwarf stammered.
“What could be important enough for you to risk punishment for interrupting us?” Orden towered over the dwarf.
The dwarf was so nervous that his mouth had gone completely dry. “The dwarf and the witch have escaped our hunting parties. The Slovs—”
Orden grabbed the dwarf by the throat and lifted him high above his head. Orden’s roar of anger was almost deafening, but everyone in the room heard the sound of the dwarf’s neck being broken when Orden’s bit his head clean off. He tossed the headless corpse into the corner and turned his bloody face to Illini. “I want the witch and that ungrateful dwarf found. I don’t care if you have to level their whole village to make it so, but you will bring me their hides or I will have yours!”
“Your will be done.” Illini bowed before leading the honor guard from the room.
Flagg tried to slip from the room with the honor guard, but Orden’s hand around his throat stopped him.
The goblin prince lifted Flagg off his feet and turned him around so they were eye to eye. “Hear me and hear me well, vessel of the betrayer. Tell your master that the goblin empire will tolerate no more of his games. Goblin blood has been spilled and so blood will run in rivers when the sun sets. Whether it is that of my enemies or allies matters little at this point, as long as my thirst in quenched.” He threw Flagg roughly to the ground, where he landed in the dwarf’s blood.
“As you command, Prince Orden,” Flagg croaked before rushing from the room. Only when he was on the other side of the thick door did he dare to take a breath. Titus wasn’t going to like what he had to report, but at the moment Flagg didn’t care. Orden’s whims were the only thing keeping him alive at the moment and he intended to do whatever it took to stay on his good side, at least until he was free of the Iron Mountains. It had been foolish for Titus to leave Flagg in the company of the goblins, and even more foolish on his part to accept the task. Pulling a small mirror from his pocket, he prepared to del
iver the news.
Redfeather breathed a sigh of relief at the news of Lucy and Cristobel’s successful escape. If he was lucky they would be able to make it topside and bring word to Gabriel and whatever was left of the order. The prospect of knowing that help could soon be on the way made him smile, but it was quickly wiped away by a brutal backhand from Orden.
Orden stepped onto the table. Even though Redfeather was suspended on the cross, the goblin still towered over him. “Just because Titus’s pet ass-wiper has bought you some time doesn’t mean you will not suffer the horrors of the mighty goblin empire,” he snarled before biting off Redfeather’s left hand.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Titus stood in the center of the hall of mirrors surrounded by a half dozen spell-casters. The seams of his tailored black blazer seemed to loosen a little more with every breath he took, but the irritation was still there, lying under the surface of his already dark mood. The transmission had ended ten minutes prior, but still he stared at the mirror in front of him. Flagg had made his fear-laden report about Orden’s displeasure and his demand for an audience, but Titus didn’t feel moved to accommodate him until he was ready. Titus realized full well that it was in his best interest to keep the peace with the goblins, but he would not be summoned like a common soldier. He was still commander of the Dark Father’s army and the goblins would do well to remember it.
The goblins were some of the fiercest and most bloodthirsty warriors in all the land, and Titus had felt that they were the ideal choice to aid him in retrieving the Nimrod from the boy. He had been wrong. With the help of his new companions, the descendant of the Hunter had not only made lifelong enemies of the goblins, but he had taught Titus something very important: he was getting stronger. Still, Gabriel was just a boy stumbling around in the dark while Titus could see quite clearly the power that was up for grabs. He had tasted the fruit from the forbidden tree and would not be denied a second helping.