I didn’t even allow that thought to get dissected and analyzed by my brain. I just took it as fact. The rest of my Band tied up their horses, readied weapons, and put their game faces on. Because the shouts and screams still continued, and the roars were louder.
“Lights out,” I hissed. The fairies doused their butt lamps and ghosted through the swamp. Tendrils of fog eddied and swirled underfoot, masking safe footing. I called upon Wylde, asking for his guidance. I stared back at the ground, and smiled. A ring of frost slowly drifted from me, encircling my entire group. Talon hissed, cursing about being cold again, and tried to jump back, only succeeding in slipping on the frost and falling on his ass like a fledgling ice skater. I smiled, ignoring his scowl.
The cold ate the fog. I wasn’t sure why or how, because I would have chosen heat to burn it away. But we were in the Land of the Fae, and things were different here. Wylde knew this. I snapped my finger softly, and the ice bubbled up, a rough, sandy sheet coating its surface, no longer slick.
Talon hissed at it, on all fours, and scrambled up a nearby tree.
He flicked his tail disdainfully, and then began hopping from branch to branch, scouting ahead. Carl shivered audibly, rubbing his scales. The fan around his neck began to quiver, as if warning away a threat. But no one was around us. I pressed on, and they followed me.
Ashley’s braids clinked together softly, but I wasn’t concerned about being heard. The sounds ahead would cover our advance. Tory reached down to pick up a club, picking it up in one hand. This feat alone would have earned her an arm in marriage by any of the ogres at the palace. She smiled unsurely at me, and it was a very human smile. Still violent, but human. I nodded one time, holding out my hands like a balancing scale. She nodded back, focusing intently.
Ashley noticed my motion, and began to growl in a low tone, preparing herself, but acknowledging my advice.
I opened myself up to Wylde again.
Because we had a kid to save. A monster to kill. And an unknown third voice just ahead.
Kill, kidnap, or take. Whatever worked. Whatever was most rewarding to me, Wylde thought with a hungry chuckle. I let him, nodding slowly, and crept through the swamp.
Smells invaded us, and light died, unable to pierce the thick canopy overhead. Things crunched underfoot, and faint whiffs of decay puffed into the air. It was better since it was frozen, but still atrocious. The ring of frost moved with us, without me thinking about it. Carl studied the ground with a scowl, and I saw flickers of motion as Talon hopped from branch to branch like a ninja Ewok elf. As if sensing my thoughts, I saw his silver eyes glinting in a thin bar of sunlight that managed to pierce the canopy above the branch he stood upon.
We advanced like a single unit, not speaking, merely gesturing towards each other, or sharing a look. But the conversation was clear, even to me, fully partnered up with Wylde. We reached a thicket, and I crouched, knowing the kid was just beyond it. Loud scuffles, shouts, and roars reverberated in the forest as two people fought. I glanced up at Talon. He pointed an arm and waggled his claw in a specific motion. Then he pointed another direction, punched the air twice, and then punched his two fists together.
Kid to the right, ripe for taking. Two warriors fighting.
I nodded, and burst through the thicket, satisfied at the sound of crunching reeds that announced my arrival like the sound of shattering glass.
A pool of murky, oily water surrounded a small island of mud that was covered in decaying trunks, logs, and boulders. I saw a small form pulling his legs inside one of the thick, hollowed out logs near the edge of the water on the island. Then I saw the ten-foot-tall beast of oozing, dripping mud with giant blooms of poisonous fungus and moss growing all over his body. He turned to us and roared, mouth splitting wide to reveal teeth of rotten, splintered bark. Slimy boulders glistened where his eyes should have been, and I noticed a dozen primitive arrows peppering his hide, oozing green, noxious blood. Like pond scum.
And the smell…
Ho’ boy.
It was like all the fecal matter and decay in the world had been dumped into this single pond, and that some real asshole of a god had decided to use that substance as clay to make…
This motherfucker. The Shit Goblin.
Tory glanced from the monster to the club in her hand, and then dropped it. She picked up a much larger one, hefting it thoughtfully before nodding. Then a green fog suddenly exploded around her – looking like a sea of desperate claws, all grasping at the air for a taste of freedom before splashing back under the fog with little puffs of green vapor, only to be replaced by more reaching claws.
She pointed a finger, hurling it at the Shit Goblin. It washed over him with absolutely no effect. So, it wasn’t a Beast, per se. More like a construct of some kind. Interesting.
Ashley snarled, darting back and forth, side to side on all fours, as if searching for a weakness, not too thrilled to be the only one that would have to use her mouth to fight. With a deeper, frustrated growl, she unfolded to stand upright again, and withdrew two curved daggers – as long as her forearm – and began spinning them in her wrists like little propellers of pain.
The Shit Goblin took a step closer, and then gurgled in anger, spewing feces into the air as he arched his back. And a figure darted into view, having been standing behind him until now.
A woman.
Covered in furs, with eyes of orange fire. She clutched an aged ivory bow, and wore a hooded cloak made of shifting shadows. I could only tell she was a woman by what I could see of the delicate structure of her face.
Oh, and she was familiar.
Tory gasped, and her fog evaporated in a blink.
The Huntress stared at us, lowering her bow in astonishment.
The Shit Goblin backhanded her clear across the pond, leaving him alone with the kid. He sniffed the air, as if trying to find his snack. The Huntress struck a tree, but Talon was there in a heartbeat, shaking her, making sure she was alive. She had landed beside a shaggy stallion made entirely of tree bark and slithering vines. It very briefly reminded me of that Trojan Horse they used as a prop in the movie. Then it made a sound like a rasp filing wood, and stamped a hoof angrily, watching Talon with dangerous eyes. Talon held up a paw, not even looking at the beast, and the Huntress stirred.
Talon leapt away right before her arrow impaled him into the earth. He scrambled up the tree away from the Huntress, hissing and yowling as he fled, complaining about her manners. She climbed to her feet, shook her head to clear the daze, and then placed a comforting hand on the tree horse. Then her eyes locked back on us across the pond as the Shit Goblin stomped the island between us in his search for the kid. I nodded at her one time, meeting her eyes. It took her a moment to nod back, but she did, even if it did look awkward and unpracticed.
Something the Huntress had once said teased me, but I couldn’t remember it. Before I could try harder, Wylde squashed it down. He didn’t have time to blabber on about the thoughts, memories, and feelings of Nate Temple. Wylde had something to kill. That was all that mattered.
The voice persisted, albeit muted, whispering something about Oberon. Something he had said, but Wylde pressed that down, too.
Stop distracting me! he snapped. With an uneasy breath, I listened to his advice.
And I felt Wylde take control.
I was Wylde, Daemon of the Fae. But I was also Master Temple. And I could feel us infecting each other. Adopting traits back and forth. We had both changed, for better or worse.
Tory took a step forward, reaching out an imploring hand to the Huntress. The archer jerked her head as if shaking away a buzzing bee, and then continued peppering the Shit Goblin with arrows. Tory hurled branches, logs, huge stones, and anything else she could get her hands on. They struck the monster, knocking him off balance, and either firmly wedging in his body, or sailing right through, only for the flowing shit to reform the wound a few moments later.
She continued anyway, serving to annoy him.
Wulfra and Talon also flung blades from a distance, not doing any good, and the Huntress’ arrows, although crackling where they struck, seemed to have little effect with each hit.
Elder Carl, on the other hand, was darting from rock to rock, spraying venom at the Shit Goblin, the fan behind his neck rattling and quivering like a hornet trapped in a bottle. Where the venom struck, mud burned away, and didn’t reform. Still, there was no way he had enough venom to prevent the monster from killing the kid.
Because the monster had given up on us and was stomping all over the island, shattering each log and hiding place with massive feet.
“My turn,” I said, laughing as I lifted my hands to the canopy above.
The trees around us abruptly awoke with screams, as if being skinned alive. I pulled deep, drawing them closer to me, their branches bending, cracking, splintering, and shattering, spraying the oily blood on their bark into the air. Talon dove to the safety of the ground, fur pointed straight up on his back, and panting as he tried to watch them all at once, shaking his head in horror as he spun in anxious circles.
I whispered a word to the trees, and they fought me, not wanting to listen.
I pulled them closer, more branches snapping, roots tearing free from the earth, and their tortured screams replied. The trees finally listened, furious, but accepting. Then, grudgingly, they shot towards the island, latching branches around the Shit Goblin, trapping him.
Then a wave of light pierced the island, growing in diameter as the branches at the top of the canopy began to unfurl, letting the sunlight in. The circle grew wider, and finally touched the trapped Shit Goblin’s foot. He squealed like a stuck pig, and his foot hardened like baked clay, then shattered under his weight, causing him to stumble.
But the light kept expanding, striking his knees, his thighs, and on up, until his entire body was struck by the sun. Smoke began spraying out of him, and the rancid smell became a burning fecal smell.
Which was still entirely unpleasant.
Before the Shit Goblin was completely solidified, he slowly swiveled a terrified face my way.
I grinned. “Flush this turd,” I said in a calm tone.
The trees snapped back to their original positions, and the Shit Goblin exploded into dried flecks of waste, raining down on the forest and, of course, us.
I looked up to see the Huntress climbing up onto her horse, throwing the kid on its back behind her. I hadn’t even seen her snatch him! Then she was galloping away. I snarled, reaching out to the trees to stop her, but they had fallen back asleep, exhausted. I had woken them from their hibernation, after all.
I snarled, but Tory was already racing after her, having picked up a large flat rock to use as a shield. Ashley loped after Tory as backup. Or to save the poor kid. I rounded on Carl. “Get the horses and meet us on the other side!”
He was moving before I had even finished. Just then, one of the pixies zipped right up to my face. “The Hunt comes. Fast.”
I nodded. “Talon. Let’s get that fucking kid. Now.”
I began to run, feeling Wylde slip back into his cave of his own choice. As if bored. I shivered. Not necessarily at the sensation, but at the lack of sensation. It had felt so smooth, and he had done it on his own, without me making him.
What if it got to the point that I wasn’t even aware who was in charge anymore?
I continued to run, chasing my friends, and hoping Carl was fast.
Chapter 36
I came upon a crazy scene, even for me. Ashley watched as Tory and the Huntress fought hand-to-hand. Arrows stuck in a few of the nearby trees, but the bow was now lying on the grass near the fringe of the forest, looking like we were almost out of the swampy area. Following the trail of the kid had caused us to loop around so that I was pretty sure we were angling parallel to the way we had originally fled to the palace, but without climbing a hill, I wouldn’t know for sure.
Tory punched and clawed, veins flashing gold beneath her skin, and her thick green fog quivered around her feet, but the Huntress had a cloth wrapped around her nose, to protect herself from inhaling it. To be honest, I wasn’t really sure what the fog was. I had seen her control dozens of flavors of Beast without it.
But it hadn’t worked on the Shit Goblin, and it didn’t seem to be affecting the Huntress.
Then again, the Huntress wasn’t a beast. Well, seeing her here, made me reconsider that. She wasn’t a Beast, but she wasn’t far from it. A wildling. A loner. A survivor. The Huntress used her cloak to catch many of Tory’s blows, the shifting shadows trapping, blocking, or parrying her attacks, as if alive. All while the Huntress kicked, clawed, and punched right back. Tory took the blows with no apparent notice, snarling as she fought.
I calmly strolled towards the horse, noticing the kid tied up and struggling on the saddle. Talon held the reins, and although the mount wasn’t happy about it, he didn’t fight too much. As I approached, he grew very still, turning its acorn of an eye to watch me, even though it didn’t turn its head of vines, leaves, and twigs. I held out my hands in a peaceful gesture, and continued to advance.
I clicked my teeth soothingly as I heard pounding hooves from the distance, hoping to all hell it was Carl and not the Wild Hunt. The horse’s ears swiveled towards the sound, stamped a hoof made of bark, but didn’t try to bolt. I placed a calming palm on the bark-like skin, and the horse visibly shook, as if I had dumped warm water over his back after a long day out in the cold.
And then he sighed.
Talon stared at me thoughtfully, but didn’t speak. I carefully reached up, plucked the boy from the saddle, and set him on the ground. His eyes were red and panicked. I placed my palms on his shoulders and stared him in the eyes, careful to make my face look kind.
He stared back, terrified.
Talon chuckled. “You’re covered in war paint drawn by blood,” he muttered, still laughing.
I frowned. I was? That was new. I remembered seeing it on my arms, but nothing about my face. I stroked my beard with one hand, and then began to smile, nodding. The kid still looked scared, but less so. Now he looked ready to flee, as if placating me.
I shook my head in amusement. “I’m going to get you out of here, kid.”
He stared back at me, face frozen in confusion. He had long dark hair, mussed with leaves and twigs, and a long narrow face. He was maybe thirteen years old, but I could have been way off. I wasn’t a good judge of those things. He looked like he was about to meet that cruel bastard, the puberty fairy, but hadn’t yet been introduced.
When he replied without his voice cracking, I confirmed my assumption. A child, but on the verge of adolescence. “Please… just let me go. I just want to go,” he said, eyes glistening with fear, as if he had never known peace. “They’re coming. I need to run!” he gasped.
I squeezed his shoulders gently. “Listen, kid. We’re not from this place. We’re from the real world. And we came here to save you. To bring you back home.”
Talon cleared his throat. “They might need a referee. Or some oil,” he said, sounding amused.
I turned my head, having forgotten all about the women. They were in various stages of undress, clothing having ripped in their battle.
And they were making out… violently.
Carl grumbled approval as he entered the clearing with a string of horses attached to his saddle. The pixies surrounded the two women, flying in a slowly rotating circle, bathing them in a silvery glow.
To be honest, it looked very romantic. And carnal.
I clapped my hands, and the two froze. They stared at each other, and then jumped apart, panting heavily as they debated fighting or kissing again. The Huntress shot a quick glance at me and froze, face transforming to outrage.
“That boy is mine,” she hissed.
“He belongs to no one,” Tory snapped right back. “Get your shit together, Huntress.”
She stiffened at the words, slowly turning to look at the tiny woman beside her. “It… ha
s been some time since I’ve heard that name…” She began to walk a slow circle around Tory, staring her up and down, frowning in deep thought. Then, between one step and the next, she froze, one foot about to lift from the ground. “No. It cannot… Tory?” she whispered. Her gaze snapped from face to face, frowning at the rest of us. She sniffed at Wulfra, the Native American Shaman of a bipedal wolf, and gasped. “Ashley…”
She turned to me, shaking her head, not recognizing me. I held up a hand, and a small ball of fire appeared, hovering above my flesh. She took a step back, clutching her throat. “Temple?” I nodded, letting the fire disappear. The kid was staring at my hand in awe.
She dismissed Talon with a disgusted sniff, as if having recognized him long ago.
She stared at the albino lizard warrior. “Your breasts are magnificent,” Carl said, his tongue flicking out as if to taste them. He said this while rubbing his sword hilt.
The actual sword, folks. Not his snake.
“Fucking Carl,” she said, a faint but genuine smile splitting her cheeks for the first time. Her eyes no longer glowed with fire, and although she looked the worse for wear, it was the same woman I knew, not having changed as much as the rest of us.
“Maybe you want to join us?” Tory asked in a very soft voice. Her eyes were intense, full of passion. But not the passion to fight. To, well… when one girl really likes another girl…
I stopped myself from visibly shaking my head. The Huntress had fawned over Tory for quite some time, and Tory had danced that line deftly, still dealing with the loss of Misha.
But perhaps they had found love in this wild place. Not soul deep love. But a taste. A shot of tequila at a busy bar during last call. It was better than nothing.
The Huntress nodded slowly. “I’ve been here so long,” she said in a defeated voice, slowly falling to her knees. “I had given up. Become what I had to in order to survive this place. I retraced my steps, but found no door. There is no escape. I was lied to…”
Wild Side: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 7 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 20