by Tara West
Even more alarming was Simeon’s ragged breathing as he trudged ahead of her, so loud at times, she feared he’d keel over.
She scanned the forest, amazed at how huge the trees had become. Some were as thick as her childhood home and taller than Borg, with branches that hung almost to the ground, weighted with leaves that were larger than her. She imagined these were the trees the dwarves had used to build the fortress around Aya-Shay.
“We’ve been running long enough,” Ryne said at her back. “We need to take a break.” He had the unfortunate position of bringing up the rear, a hand on the hilt of his sword should some ghoul or beast decide to trail them.
“No stopping.” Dianna grunted, though she wished they could rest for just a few moments. “We can’t take the chance.”
“Very well.” Ryne chucked. “Don’t blame me when your sand dweller collapses.”
“Don’t—gasp—concern yourself—gasp—with me—gasp.” Simeon’s chest heaved between each word. Odd that someone with such a muscular chest would have so little endurance.
Oh, I won the bet! Sindri squealed. I told my sisters you’d be thinking about Simeon’s chest again before daybreak.
You are like a trio of old hens, Dianna chided. Not happy unless you are pecking dirt. Heat flushed her cheeks, a new warmth that wasn’t from exertion. Not even Dianna’s most private thoughts were safe around the nosy stones.
“We will rest tonight,” she said, annoyed as Ryne’s laughter intensified. Even though they followed Zier’s lead, she did slow their brisk walk ever so slightly when the loose gravel had become more treacherous.
“Tonight?” Ryne chuckled. “You think your sand dweller will last that long?”
“I’m growing even more tired of your jests than of the run, ice dweller,” Simeon grumbled.
“And I’m growing tired of listening to you breathe like a dying snowbear,” Ryne said, far too much humor in his tone.
Simeon stopped long enough to scowl at Ryne. “And I’m growing tired of your ugly blue face.”
Dianna slapped Simeon’s back, urging him forward. “Enough.”
“Just wait until we halt for the night,” Ryne said. “Then you can stare at my ugly blue fist.”
Tar whimpered. Dianna knew the dog hoped for peace, just as she did. She was just about to box Simeon and Ryne’s stubborn heads when a booming in the distance made her suck in a sharp breath.
“Quiet.” She turned to Ryne, holding out a staying hand.
Zier stopped, too, his heavily laden back stiff as a pole.
The booms grew louder, shaking the ground beneath their feet.
“What is that?” Simeon breathed.
Ryne swallowed hard, a knot working its way down his throat. “Maybe it’s one of the dragons.”
“They wouldn’t be running through the forest. They’d be flying overhead,” Dianna whispered. “It has to be Borg.” She looked up, cursing under her breath when she saw the branches shaking and leaves falling to the ground.
“What do we do?” Simeon asked.
“Quick.” Ryne pointed to a massive trunk off the path, the brush cleared around it as if it were intentional. “There’s a hole inside that tree.”
It looked almost like a small door. Could it be a dwelling for a sprite or a lone dwarf? Simeon grabbed her hand, and they raced for the tree, with Ryne trailing. As they neared the tree, Dianna realized it was indeed a door, covered with a crude flap. If someone lived inside, she hoped they didn’t mind guests.
“Wait,” Zier called, chest heaving as he raced to catch up. “You don’t know what’s in there.”
She placed a hand on Simeon’s arm. “He’s right.”
The booms were so close now, an avalanche of leaves rained down on them.
Simeon cast a glance over his shoulder. “I’m willing to take that chance.” He pushed his way inside, taking Dianna with him. Ryne followed, pulling the top end of Zier’s pack, followed by Zier pushing the other end. Tar scurried in, with his tail between his legs. She heard the thud of Zier’s pack as he dropped it against the wall, but otherwise, everyone remained quiet.
The air in the cramped room was heavy with mold and dirt, and it was so dark, she could only make out Simeon’s gold eyes looking anxiously at her.
Pull me out, Sindri whispered.
Dianna slipped her hand into her vest pocket and pulled out the stone. Panic iced her limbs when the stone’s light illuminated their small abode. Whoever had once lived here had died long ago, though he was still sitting at a table with a mug in his bony grip. Spiders crawled out of his skeletal orifices and scattered across the table. She sucked in a scream when she saw more spiders scattered across a dusty rug and stone hearth.
“Great goddess!” Simeon yelped, clutching Dianna’s arm. “This place is infested!”
Tar whimpered, alternately lifting his paws, looking up at Ryne with large, pleading eyes.
“Easy, buddy,” Ryne said to his companion. “It will be over soon.”
The booms were closer now and much slower.
“Fwiends,” a familiar deep voice said outside. “Where fwiends go?”
She swore under her breath while Zier swatted spiders off his pack.
“Dianna,” Simeon said, his voice breaking into a high-pitched, girly squeal. “I’d rather take my chances with Borg.” He jumped when a spider ran between his legs.
“No.” She spoke through clenched teeth. “We can leave when he passes.”
“Fwiends!” Borg called again. “Borg smell you.”
“Curse the Elements!” Ryne hissed, elbowing Zier. “You didn’t tell us giants had a good sense of smell.”
Zier shot Ryne a menacing look. “Not all do.”
“Well this one does,” Ryne grumbled.
“Quiet, both of you.” Dianna shined the light in their faces. “Before we’re caught.”
They stood there quietly, waiting for Borg to pass. She sucked in shallow breaths, trying not to gag on the musty air. Tar pressed against his master, whistling through his nose while Ryne held the dog’s jaw shut.
After several interminable heartbeats, the echo of the giant’s footfalls receded.
“He’s gone,” Simeon said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Dianna placed a steadying hand on his arm. “Just a little longer.” A spider as wide as her palm climbed down Simeon’s braid. She did her best not to alarm him, forcing a note of calmness into her voice. “Hold still.”
His eyes bulged. “Wh-what?”
She unsheathed a boning knife from her belt. Carefully she leaned up and swatted the spider to the ground. It ran across the floor with a screech.
“Dragon balls,” Simeon mumbled, his eyes rolling to the back of his head before he fell against her.
“Don’t you dare faint on me, Simeon,” she hissed, struggling to hold him up even as her knees buckled. “A little help,” she said to the others.
He was lifted off her so fast, the displaced air ruffled her loose braid. She gaped at Ryne and Zier, who gawped back at her, then at the empty space in front of her where Simeon had been.
“Simeon?” Her mind raced, fear pumping out a wild rhythm in her chest. Where had he gone?
She shone the stone’s light up, screaming when she saw a dark, hairy creature dragging Simeon up a network of vines. “Let him go!” She hit the shadow with a blast. The force of her magic ricocheted inside their musty space, knocking Zier, Ryne, and Tar on their backs. The tree groaned like a thatched cottage roof on the verge of buckling beneath the weight of heavy snow. The shadow faltered, nearly dropping Simeon, but then it swung to the next vine, latching on with feet that had long, curled finger-like toes. The beast clutched Simeon by the waist in one meaty arm as it slowly made its way up the rope.
“I said to let him go!” Magic balled in Dianna’s fist as she prepared to strike again.
“Wait!” Ryne cried, stumbling to his knees. “One more blast and this whole tree will come down.”
&n
bsp; The creature swung up and into a hole, disappearing.
“Simeon! No!” Dianna shrieked.
“It’s gone outside.” Zier waved them out the door. “Hurry!”
She stumbled out of the tree, followed by Ryne and Tar, as the structure groaned and slowly rocked to one side. The ground beneath them buckled.
“The roots!” Zier hollered. “Run!”
She flew over roots as they burst through the ground and jutted into the air like geysers. Zier wasn’t fast enough to dodge a massive root. It swatted him like a bug as it broke from the soil, flinging him into the forest.
“Ahhh!” Zier cried, disappearing into a mass of hanging vines.
“You go after Zier,” Dianna said to Ryne. “I’ll find Simeon.”
Ryne and his dog broke off, racing after Zier.
The tree groaned again, roots snapping. The tree fell faster. She raced beside it, shining a light at the overhead branches. A dark figure swung from limb to limb, barely outpacing the tumbling tree. Dianna tried to center her aim, but the creature moved too fast, and she didn’t want to collapse the entire forest on their heads.
Her chest ached, and her legs screamed in pain, but she ran faster, dodging roots and debris. She cast a glance over her shoulder, surprised to see Ryne, Tar, and Zier behind her. How had they caught up?
The creature landed on a branch with a thud, faltering for a heartbeat as it readjusted Simeon’s limp body under its arm. Dianna seized the opportunity, centering her magic on the monster’s backside, releasing a ball of energy with a grunt. The beast jumped to a higher limb with surprising strength, as if its legs were made of springs. The magic struck beneath the beast, slicing the tree in half. The creature squealed when the top half of the tree tumbled toward the ground. It struck a nearby tree, whose trunk was as wide as a giant. The larger tree caught the half-tree in its thick branches. It hung suspended horizontally above the ground.
Dianna ran under the creature while it dangled above her. Tar barked wildly. The beast hissed at the dog, holding on to a flimsy limb with one hand, Simeon tucked under the other arm. Struggling to gain purchase, its gruesome, demonic face that looked part bear and part human, contorted as it clawed at the branch, but it continued to slide. Dianna’s heart came to a grinding halt when the thing released Simeon, his limp body hurtling to the forest floor. A large hand shot out from behind the tree, capturing Simeon before he struck the ground, and her shoulders slumped in relief.
Borg stepped into view, plucking the creature from the branch. The giant frowned at the beast as it squealed and clawed at his fingers. When Borg set Simeon down beside Dianna, she raced up to him, cradling his head in her hands. She shook him hard. “Simeon! Wake up!”
His eyes had rolled to the back of his head, and he did not wake. Tar licked Simeon’s face, then snuffled as he sniffed his hair.
Dianna gasped when she pulled her hand away; it was covered in sticky blood. He was injured! No wonder he couldn’t wake! She turned to the others. “Help me!” Desperation rang in her words.
Zier and Ryne helped drag Simeon behind a tree. She clutched the massive trunk while Borg shook the monster like a child angry with his toy.
“Owie!” the giant screamed before throwing the creature to the ground.
The beast rolled onto its side, its face made even uglier with anguish when it cradled its wide ribs with long arms.
Tar shot out like a bolt of lightning, racing straight for the creature.
“Tar, get back here!” Ryne yelled.
The dog circled the beast, jumping when it rolled into a sitting position and spit at the dog.
“No, Tar!” Ryne hollered again.
Panic turned Dianna’s limbs to ice. That thing could easily kill Tar.
“Be careful!” Zier cupped his hands around his mouth, calling up to Borg. “Trolls spit venom.”
A troll? That’s what that creature was? As a child, she’d had nightmares after her father warned her about the monsters, about how they were as strong as ten mortals and feasted on human flesh. She’d thought her father had only told her fables to ensure her good behavior. Now she knew. They were indeed real, and they were creatures of nightmares.
The troll let out an ear-piercing howl when Borg lifted his mighty foot. Dianna had to look away when the giant’s foot came crashing down. She heard the distinct splatter and crushing of bone.
That was enough to send Tar yelping back to Ryne, his tail between his legs.
Dianna cringed when Borg stomped up to them. She didn’t fear he would squish them next, but she sensed they were about to be assaulted by a giant-sized guilt trip.
“Fwiends not nice.” He jutted a red, swollen finger at them. “Fwiends leave Borg.”
She cleared her throat, struggling for the right words. “Borg, we were being nice and saving you from freezing to death. You are not dressed for cold weather.”
Borg crossed his arms, the many folds of his brow furrowing like collapsing drifts of snow. “Da says Borg follow.”
She let out a shuddering breath. There was no convincing him. Mayhap when the weather turned colder, he’d change his mind. In the meantime, she had to heal Simeon before he succumbed to his wounds.
She choked back a sob as the realization struck her that she’d almost lost Simeon to that monster. How could she have lived with herself if Simeon had been killed? Curse the flirtatious sand dweller! He was beginning to mean too much to her. She didn’t know what made her heart ache more, the prospect of losing Simeon or loving him forever. Of one thing she was certain, either outcome would break her heart.
Chapter Nine
Madhea admired her reflection in the looking glass. Most of her wrinkles had faded, and color was returning to her once brittle and dull hair. She no longer looked like a decrepit old crone, but perhaps a woman at the end of her middle years. The magic in her veins was stronger than ever before. All of Eris’s power was flowing to her. Soon, no one would be able to overpower her, especially not that foolish witch, Dianna. Unless, of course, she had collected all the stones. In that case, Madhea would need another kind of leverage to ensure she defeated Dianna. She’d need to set a trap to force her to bend to her will.
And Madhea knew the perfect man to use as bait for that trap. All she needed to do was find out how to reach him. She and her pixies had flown up and down the mountain, looking for caves and tunnels—anything that would lead her to the Ice People—but the mountain was vast, and every search had been fruitless. She had no hope of finding this blue race without help from her prisoner. As she stared at her reflection once more, she thought she would soon be pretty enough to seduce him. Though the thought of being held by such feeble arms repulsed her, she had no choice. She would do what she must, then discard him after winning her true prize.
“URA, I CAN’T BELIEVE we are contemplating theft.” Markus raked a hand over his face with a groan. His wife had gone mad, totally mad, and he feared ’twas he who’d corrupted her.
“Not theft.” She snuggled next to him in their narrow bed. “We’re merely borrowing a stone, and they don’t rightfully belong to the Ice People anyway.”
“Do you think the Erylls will look upon it as borrowing?” He’d a feeling they’d be none too pleased if they discovered Ura rummaging through their possessions in an attempt to steal their precious stone.
“I don’t care what they think.” Her voice rose to a feverish pitch. “We could’ve borrowed Odu’s stone if the Council hadn’t stolen it.”
Markus still felt terrible about their acquisition of Odu’s stone. After the old prophet had defended Markus’s decision to let Dianna borrow Ura’s family stone, they had taken it upon themselves to punish the prophet by “borrowing” his stone as well. “Yes, but the difference is they have the law on their side, and we don’t.”
“Pffft.” She slapped the furs on the bed. “Don’t speak to me of laws. Chieftain Ingred has been making up new laws ever since she came to power. She’s getting as greedy
as Madhea. And speaking of her, the Ice People will thank us when we defeat the evil goddess.” Her cool breath tickled the nape of his neck, and he feared she was distracting him to get her way. “You need a stone to deflect her magic. You’re the only one who can bring her down.”
“I hope you’re right.” He heaved a weary sigh.
“Of course I am.” She sat up, hovering over him, her soft curtain of hair tickling his chest. “Don’t you know the first rule of marriage?” She giggled. “The wife is always right.”
“Lass, I don’t like putting you in danger.” He ran his fingers through her hair. Of all the physical features he loved about his wife, ’twas her hair he loved the most, smoother than the soft grasses that grew under any lake and finer than the most expensive threads imported from the Shifting Sands. But more than her hair, he loved her mind and spirit. He didn’t wish to risk her life. He couldn’t bear the burden of causing her brightly burning flame to be extinguished.
She frowned. “There will be no danger.”
She clearly hadn’t contemplated the severity of the consequences should they get caught. “They will out you if you’re caught.”
Her eyes lit with determination. “And you and Father will come with me, and the Ice People will be forced to battle Madhea without our help.”
A shudder coursed through him. Truthfully, he didn’t relish the idea of having to face the vengeful goddess again. He’d only survived the last encounter with her due to pure luck and the stone around his neck. “Elements forbid it should come to that.”
BESIDES BEING A STRONG protector, Dianna was grateful for another thing about Borg. The giant had cut their journey through the woods in half by carrying them all, giving her sore legs a much-needed rest. She and Simeon sat on Borg’s head, ropes around their waists tied to his hair, should he accidentally tip his head, which he’d done a few times after forgetting he was carrying his “fwiends.” Ryne had complained that Borg’s head smelled worse than his feet, so he perched with his dog on one shoulder while Zier sat on the other. Borg had stuffed Zier’s pack and everyone’s sacks in a pocket. She had to admit he was handy.