The Glass Gargoyle (The Lost Ancients Book 1)

by Marie Andreas

  I didn’t look at Alric, but felt his presence a foot behind me and to the left. How I was going to ditch him once we got outside was a problem I wasn’t looking forward to.

  Sammy paused as the weak light of the late afternoon hit him roughly. I grabbed him as he turned to stumble back, slapping the cuffs on as I pushed him further out the door.

  With Alric hanging back in the doorway, I tumbled the slimy little cherub into the bag without a fuss. Now the question was if Alric was going to let me keep him.

  “I can’t believe how many times I’ve had to save you,” Alric said as he slipped up behind me. “You need to be more careful.”

  I turned to say something most likely inane, but he was gone. I looked around, but he’d either gone back into the Farm, or somehow gone invisible. Either way, he wasn’t taking my catch, and the denizens of the Farm weren’t coming out.

  Sammy rattled around in his bag when I started walking, but a few kicks settled him down again. Flipping a switch on the bag, I activated a low-level floater spell. It was a cheap one, but should get me back to Largen’s without having to break my back lifting Sammy.

  I tried to keep my head down, but not look like I was. In the time since I’d crossed into the Red Light District, more people had started coming out. It could just be me, but all of them seemed to be watching me.

  Picking up speed, I let out a breath as I passed the remains of the formerly huge garbage spill. Not much was left, but it would be weeks before the stink got out of the roadway.

  “I assume you were successful.”

  I jumped about ten feet in the air as the voice wheezed in my ear. Grimwold’s older brother stood next to me. How he’d gotten that close without me seeing only reminded me of the power rolling off the man.

  “Yes, what are you doing here?” Not the best response, but I’d had a rough day, week, month, take your pick. The man wasn’t as annoying as his brother, but I had the feeling he was far more deadly.

  “I thought you might have trouble, with all of the…fighting going on here.” He tilted his head toward the filthy refuse behind us. “I can take your catch back.” He handed me a signed voucher that hadn’t been in his hand seconds before. “Take this in tomorrow and you’ll be paid the rest of your fee, plus get your next assignment.” The smile he gave was perfectly chilling.

  I silently took the voucher and handed over my bag. At this point I’d call the loss of it a plus just to be free of this entire situation.

  “You can claim your bag tomorrow as well.” The look he gave me pointed out that he most likely knew every single secret I’d ever had in my life.

  With a shudder, I nodded and tried to force my feet not to run back to the Shimmering Dewdrop. I deserved to get drunk. I needed to get drunk. I was going to get drunk.

  Of course things never seem to go as planned. Once I’d gotten free of Grimwold’s brother and the creepy Red Light District, I decided it was too early to show up drinking at Foxy’s place. If I hit there this early, Foxy would get nosy, I’d end up telling him, then nothing but lectures all night long. I wandered over by the Antiquities Museum blotter board, just to make sure my looking for work card was still posted and no new jobs had been put up. To keep diggers from roaming around The Hill bugging the idle rich while they looked for a patron, the city had created this listing. I was still there, but my sheet looked battered and stained from sitting there so long, so I took it down and made a new one.

  Unfortunately, there were no new jobs posted. A detour had been a good idea though, because now it was getting late enough for a legitimate dinner and drinking.

  I was feeling more relaxed than I had in days. I had a voucher and some money, another job tomorrow, and no one had directly tried to ruin my life in the last hour.

  The sounds of a beating not too far ahead made me regret my last thoughts. Whoever they were they lay between me and the Shimmering Dewdrop, and there was no easy way around them. I slowed my pace. Most likely a mugging and those never lasted long.

  The sounds stopped but then I heard a loud splash and fleeing footsteps. Damn it. They dumped the victim in the river. If he wasn’t dead already he would be soon, dumped face first in that thing.

  Swearing to myself, I crept around the corner. The attackers were gone, and sure enough a body bobbed forlornly at the water’s edge. I had to at least pull the person out. I couldn’t leave someone to die.

  Another quick look to verify the attackers were gone, and I moved to the edge of the water. A tall male lay face down in the reeds. He was close enough to grab so I reached for a foot and pulled. The body bobbed back toward me, and I grabbed the other booted foot and pulled harder, then flipped him when he got close enough.

  The face shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. I’d begun to think nothing could really hurt him. But I was wrong.

  Under the blood and mud was Alric.

  Chapter 19

  I was surprised that my throat tightened. I know I shouldn’t care about him, but I didn’t want him to be dead. Looked like in the couple of hours since he’d disappeared in the Red Light District he’d managed to really piss someone off. Or he’d been wrong about the crime lords no longer looking for him. I gave a few more tugs to get him out of the water. They weren’t gentle, and the fact that he didn’t move wasn’t a good sign.

  Kneeling in the mud, I felt for a pulse. Still there, not strong, but it was there. His face was one mass of bruises, turning deep purple already—they were going to be truly terrifying once they came into full bloom. His left eye was swollen. There was no way he’d be able to open that for a few days at least. Most of the blood had washed away, but slashes across his torso said at least one of his attackers had an edged weapon. Had his own ill-gotten sword been used against him?

  No one had come down the street yet, but now that the beating was over, lurkers would appear. The first would be the sneak thieves looking to turn a body for anything the original attackers left.

  I had to get him out of here.

  Taking my jacket off, I fashioned a sling to slide under his arms. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but the man was already covered in bruises. A few more wouldn’t hurt him. I hoped.

  I was far stronger than I looked, but he still outweighed me by too much to even think about trying to carry him.

  Looping the sling around his shoulders, and using his cape to give me more lead, I started dragging him toward my house. The Shimmering Dewdrop was a bit closer to this spot, but I didn’t know who had beaten him. With my luck they’d be drinking there by now.

  Only a few people crossed my path on my trip, but none even looked twice at my dragging a full-grown man down the road behind me. Said a lot for my part of town.

  Dropping the tether, I fiddled with my keys and got him inside. Looking at his sorry shape, there was no way I was going to put him into my bed. With a sigh I dragged him over to the sofa. At least I’d never been fond of the damn thing.

  “Leaf? Crusty? Garbage?” I had expected the girls to fly over the instant I walked in—they could always tell when there was mischief at hand. No little flapping wings answered my call. Leaving Alric on the floor next to the sofa I went to the kitchen. A note was pinned down by a few bottles of ale. Popping open a bottle, I read. Harlan had been by and took the girls with him. His nieces were visiting, and faeries were enough of a novelty to keep them entertained for a few hours. He hoped I didn’t mind they were gone for the night and left the ale as a thank you.

  Shrugging, I filled a bowl with warm water and carried it and my ale back to the sofa.

  It took a bit of a struggle but I finally got Alric rolled up on the sofa after I dropped a few old blankets on it first. Maybe it was the mud, or the arm strain from dragging him down the street, but he was a hell of a lot heavier than he looked.

  I gently wiped the mud and gore off his face, and a chill hit me. I’d seen him fight and I’d seen him with a sword that he looked very much able to use. Yet someone or ones had managed to
beat him almost to death. I didn’t think it was the thieves in the Red Light District—he could have taken them all easily. Besides, they wouldn’t have bothered to come out this far to follow him. The district was pretty much its own sovereign hell hole—they stayed in, we stayed out.

  Which meant he’d managed to find some pretty nasty folks in the last few hours.

  I sent a prayer to any deity still listening, that whoever did this felt the debt was paid. I really didn’t need anyone coming after me because I saved Alric.

  Even with the bruising, his face was still breathtaking. Especially this close. His eye lashes were long, and I stopped from reaching out to them. He was so peaceful, not at all like he was when conscious and annoying.

  I needed to see how bad the knife injuries were before I did anything else. They couldn’t be too bad, the blood hadn’t done more than trickle during our trip.

  His shirt had been of good quality. Unlike his normal wear and certainly unlike anything I’d seen in his hovel.

  The tears indicated a knife rather than a sword; they weren’t deep but shredded the shirt and left four lines crossing his body. Considering he’d started a full brawl by attacking five men at the Shimmering Dewdrop, I had to think he got these after they’d already done some damage to him. No way would a fighter with his skills let a knife man close enough to gut him. But why slash him but not kill him? The beating was mostly that, a beating. The knife wielder had added to it but not tried to kill him which he clearly could have. Yet another mystery. One that I was not going to worry about. There were enough creepy-crawly things in my life right now. I wasn’t going to add others’ problems in as well.

  They must have broken a rib or two, his breathing was getting shallower. I pushed him up a bit and reassessed the knife man; Alric had been stabbed in the side. Not bad, but there was a constant trickle of blood draining into the blankets. I hadn’t noticed it since it most likely had drained into his pants and was covered by his long black cape.

  I ran into my bedroom looking for more fabric I could lose. An old hideous gown donated by some long-lost patron came to mind. After shredding it, I soaked it in water and cleaned the injury. I had a little bit of healing salve, but it wouldn’t close that up. Still, I used what was left, hoping the spells in it were still potent. The bleeding stopped, but I still stuffed a bundle of fabric under him before I rolled him back. I had no idea who was behind this, so there was no way I could try and get him more help.

  He was paler now, his breath still raspy. I gently felt down his sides, but no bones were sticking out, not that I could do anything even if they were.

  As my hand brushed his upper chest, a blurring of his skin occurred. It was so quick that I thought I was seeing things. But running both hands over the chest muscle again answered my question. There was something there. A tattoo or glyph of some kind. Bringing a nearby glow closer, I ran my hands over a third time, using just my fingers so I could see what lay underneath.

  Silvery letters of the finest delicate script appeared before me along with a stylized dragon. The width of my hand, the letters seemed to sparkle in the light of the glow, flaring as each finger hit them. I peered closer, but they weren’t in any language I’d ever seen. His skin itself had gone so pale it also glowed, a pure white infusing it.

  So intent on trying to figure out the word that I almost hit the roof when a bloody hand covered mine.

  “I’m sorry.” His battered lips and most likely damaged voice box didn’t do anything good for his voice. Not to mention he’d been out cold an instant before. But now one green eye peered at me with enough sorrow to make me feel like I’d been the one beaten. His face seemed different as well—leaner, sharper, even with the bruises it was almost too beautiful to look at.

  “You shouldn’t be awake.” That sounded inane, but it was true, how the hell was he awake now? I looked down at the silvery design on his skin, but my hand sat on bare flesh.

  “I am so sorry, but I do thank you for saving me.” The effect of him should have been weakened by the battered face and swollen eye, but I found myself trapped. I could only look into his eye.

  A soft veil surrounded everything and slowly the air left my lungs.

  An instant later, or so it seemed, I found myself sitting on the floor next to my sofa.

  “What the…”

  “You were getting me ale?” Alric was lying there, shirt wide open, chest covered with faint bruises. Hadn’t he been bloody? Nothing recent seemed solid in my mind. I pulled him out of the river, brought him here…now I was sitting on my ass staring at him like a smitten schoolgirl.

  A nagging part of my mind told me there was something important here, something I was forgetting.

  “My ale?” His left eye was slightly puffy, but the injuries must have not been as bad as I thought. And clearly he was well enough to want ale.

  “I suppose I could get you one.” I pulled myself up, then caught a patch of bloody fabric sticking out from underneath him. “What’s this?”

  His skin was warm as he covered my hand and gently took it. “You must have thought I was bleeding, but it was their blood, I assure you.” His face darkened.

  “Do you know who jumped you?” The question of, ‘will they be coming here looking for you’ lingered but remained unasked. I was glad he wasn’t as injured as I thought, but it would still be rude to kick him into the street in his condition.

  “Not exactly. I have some ideas though.” He tried to keep his voice light, but the darkness stayed in his eyes. And he clearly wasn’t going to give me any clues.

  Fine, his problems weren’t mine. He could sleep this off, then go back to whatever under-worldly things he was involved in.

  Still trying to figure out what that nagging voice in my head was screaming about, I got him an ale, and me another one. Somehow I’d finished it off without noticing.

  “Since you won’t tell me who did this to you, how about what you were doing in the Red Light District? Or why you had a sword? Not to be rude, but you don’t look like any nobleman I’ve ever seen.”

  It was a good thing he’d sat up to drink or he probably would have choked to death. His laugh came at the same instant a swallow of ale was going down. I slammed him on the back a few more times than necessary.

  “I don’t think my questions were funny.” Folding my arms, I glared down at him.

  “They weren’t, just your observations.” He shook his head and took another complete sip. “Rest assured I’m not faking to be a nobleman to carry a sword. You only saw it because I got sloppy.”

  I sat down in my chair, better not to be right next to him. “It was kind of big to hide. And it didn’t help you fight whoever beat the crap out of you, did it? Too bad you lost it though; you can get good money for those.”

  The dark cloud came back to his face, but only briefly. “No, unfortunately, they got me before I could get it free. But they didn’t take it.” He pushed aside the cloak, and there it was, secure in a slightly muddy sheath.

  Even I would have noticed that. How had I pulled him free of the river, dragged him around town, shoved him up on my sofa, and not felt a three-foot-long sword? Somehow I knew he wasn’t going to answer my questions. Which meant I had two options, ignore them or include them in my growing list of problems.

  I folded my arms and stared him down. More ale needed to be consumed than Harlan had left me, especially if pretty boy here was going to drink most of it. Problem was I didn’t want to leave him alone in my house, and I couldn’t kick him out. I may have misjudged his injuries, but he still had some problems. He winced every time he sat up as if there were at least a few damaged bones in his rib cage.

  I was just debating whether to go to bed, or sit here and stare him down and make him give me some answers when the tube over my door started hooting. An instant later Garbage Blossom flew in at full speed followed by the other two. The tube was a way for them to come and go without me opening the door. I usually closed it up but with
them out had left it open.

  “What are you doing back?”

  Of course none of them paid any interest to me at all. They’d sighted Alric upon entry and had wheeled around to hover over him.

  None of them said anything, and even Alric was quiet. Considering his first reaction to them, this odd appraisal from both sides was disturbing.

  “Girls?” I tried to get their attention. Leaf looked at me briefly with an odd smile, then went back to staring at Alric.

  They watched him like he had given them the key to a mountain of sweets and rivers of ale.

  Silently all three fluttered down, alighting gently on his chest. Even Garbage was grinning as she reached down to touch him.

  “What the hell are you doing to my faeries?” Alric didn’t feel like a magic user to me, but he was doing something. The girls were completely enraptured.

  The silence between the four of them lasted a few more seconds, then Alric turned to me with an honest smile. “Nothing, we were just coming to terms.” As he spoke he rubbed the back of Leaf’s head.

  Nothing my ass. This guy was getting on my nerves, messing up my life, and now was usurping my faeries.

  Although even enraptured with him as they were, leaving the girls here would allow me to go to the pub. He’d keep them here—they’d keep him out of trouble.

  “You four have a grand time. Girls, keep an eye on him for me. I’ll be back late.” I went for my jacket, then saw all the dried blood and mud. There was no way some of that wasn’t his. Grumbling under my breath, I went in search of my cloak. It might be heavy but at least it was clean.

  Alric watched me the entire time with a bemused expression on his face but didn’t stop patting the faeries. I could practically hear them purr.

  “If you’re jealous I could pet you as well.” His smile had gone from bemused to lecherous in a flash.

  Flinging the cloak around my shoulders, I stomped to the door. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  Ignoring the laughter, high pitched and giggly from the girls, low and sexy from Alric, I slammed the door.