Cunning Devil

by Chris Underwood

  If anyone else had any answers, they weren’t sharing them. The storykeeper bent down to examine something on the ground beside the cages, while Lilian and I stood around scratching our heads. Rodetk looked at us like he was waiting for us to fill him in, but I was a little preoccupied.

  The more I thought about it, the less sense it made. We’d come here seeking a changeling child and evidence of a curse, and instead we’d found this.

  It couldn’t be a coincidence. But what did these creatures have to do with anything? One little weird Stranger was bad enough. Now we had six of them, and even Alcaraz didn’t know what they were.

  “Do they have any scars?” Lilian asked suddenly as she peered into the dark of one of the cages. “Damn it, we need more light.”

  “What do scars have to do with anything?” I said.

  “Before I left this morning, Alcaraz mentioned something about the creature you brought to her. It had a scar on its flank. She said it looked almost like a surgical scar. Maybe they all have the same scar. Maybe Likho’s been doing something to them.”

  Rodetk peered over my shoulder, using his superior night sight to see what we couldn’t. “I can’t see any scars,” the goblin said. “But why are they being bled?”

  “What?” I said.

  “Look.” He pointed at the arm of the closest creature.

  I snatched the flashlight out of the storykeeper’s hand and shone it at the creature, so those of us without goblin eyes could see what the hell he was talking about.

  A thin plastic tube had been inserted into the crook of the creature’s elbow. It was filled with the deep red of the creature’s blood.

  The tube trailed out the rear corner of the creature’s cage. As I followed it along, I saw more tubes coming out of the other cages. They met up, held together with cable ties and string. And together they trailed toward the patch of floor the storykeeper was examining.

  Except as I shone the flashlight down, I saw it wasn’t just a patch of floor. Something like a wooden trap door was set into the floor. It was oval-shaped, hinged on either side like a pair of narrow double-doors. The tubes draining blood from the creatures disappeared through a small opening at the top of the doors. And when I listened carefully, holding my breath, I could hear a gentle drip, drip, drip coming from within.

  Distant memories called to me. Old stories of Early’s I’d half-listened to. I was so busy trying to remember them that I didn’t even notice the storykeeper moving until she wrapped her fingers around one of the trap door handles and began to pull it open, eyes wide with curiosity.

  Lilian was the fastest of us to react.

  “No!” she shouted, pushing past me and shoving the storykeeper away.

  But it was too late. The trap door flew open.

  In a single instant, I saw what was inside. Below the doors there was a recession, like a bathtub set into the floor. It was filled almost to the brink in thick, red blood.

  The blood pool glistened in the light from my flashlight. Before the trap door had fallen fully open, a shape began to break the pool’s surface. A goblin face, but sharper somehow. His eyes were closed, like he was sleeping.

  Lilian had overbalanced herself when she shoved the storykeeper aside. She stumbled in front of the pool and stared at the face rising out of the blood, her eyes widening in horror. I opened my mouth to shout a warning.

  The goblin’s eyes snapped open.

  Then, suddenly, it was moving.

  The goblin leapt up from the pool, showering us with droplets of blood. Red-stained steel glistened and spun.

  And before I could move, the goblin plunged the tip of his spear into Lilian’s chest.

  27

  My throat slammed shut, turning my shout into a strangled cry. Three inches of sharpened steel stuck out of Lilian’s back. She stared down at the spear that’d been driven into her, her mouth hanging open.

  The goblin tugged on his spear, and Lilian gasped as the spearhead was dragged back through her. With a snarl, the goblin kicked her. His iron-shod boot slammed into Lilian’s stomach, throwing her back into a bookcase. Tomes and scrolls collapsed onto her in a cloud of dust.

  It had all taken less than a second.

  The goblin was lean and stringy, a foot taller than Rodetk. He wore no shirt, and blood dripped from the sharp points of his exposed ribs. Aside from a pair of leather trousers, the only items of clothing he wore were iron boots and a rimless hat that clung to his head so tightly it might’ve been part of him. It was stained unnaturally red with the caged creatures’ blood.

  Redcap . The word bubbled up from the recesses of my mind. A vicious breed of goblin, faster and stronger and more bloodthirsty than even the worst goblinkind could muster. I’d thought they were a myth.

  I was wrong.

  My eyes flickered down to taken in Lilian’s fallen body, buried in books and dust. My heart lurched once, twice. Hot blood pounded in my ears.

  I leapt at the redcap, truncheon swinging.

  He spun back toward me, but before he could bring the spear’s point around I was on him. With a snarl, he lifted the spear in both hands, trying to block my overhand blow.

  I slammed the truncheon down on the shaft of the spear. The wood splintered, and the spear snapped in half.

  My weight carried me forward. I crashed into the redcap, shoving him back and pinning the spear tip against the wall. The storykeeper squealed and scurried away as we scuffled. I slammed my forehead into the goblin’s long nose, and I felt something crack.

  But the redcap was fast. Damn, he was fast. Hissing, he drove a knee into my gut. As I doubled over, he whipped the blunt half of the spear across my face.

  I staggered back, spitting blood. He leapt and kicked me square in the chest. I hit the ground hard.

  “Intruders!” the redcap screeched as he came at me, the steel-tipped half of his spear point-down in his left hand. “Intruders in the sorcerer’s—”

  A book flew out of nowhere and cracked against the redcap’s head. He grunted, spat, then snapped his head around to search for the source of the attack. I turned my head as well, one eye closed to correct the double vision.

  Rodetk stood crouched and hissing. In his hand he clutched a long, curved dagger he must’ve found among the artifacts that cluttered the shelves.

  The redcap snarled and charged at Rodetk. The monster’s iron boots barely seemed to touch the ground. Rodetk’s eyes widened, lifting his knife. And then the redcap was on him.

  I rolled to my side, groaning, trying to lift myself up. My lungs burned. The chamber was spinning around me. The redcap’s movements were a blur as he struck and stabbed and kicked, driving Rodetk back.

  I had to do something. I reached for my truncheon, but I’d dropped it somewhere, and I couldn’t see it in the dark. Didn’t matter. The truncheon was too slow. I needed something else.

  My hands went to my pockets as I staggered to my feet. Witch’s fire? No. The chamber was filled with books and chemicals. I’d burn the place to ash, and us as well.

  My hand brushed the spirit bottle that the Dealer had given me. But that idea was even worse than the witch’s fire. I’d have no idea what I was unleashing.

  The gun. I touched the revolver in my pocket. It’d be loud. Too loud. It’d bring guards running. I couldn’t.

  Rodetk cried out. Blood poured from a cut on his forearm. As he dropped his blade, the redcap hooked his leg around Rodetk’s and brought him toppling to the floor.

  “Shit!” I muttered, digging my hand into my pocket. The redcap raised the half-spear, preparing to shove the steel point into Rodetk’s throat. Rodetk raised his hands in one last desperate defense, eyes wide with fear.

  I pulled out the revolver and squeezed the trigger.

  The crack of the gunshot echoed in the confined space. The silver round punched through the redcap’s temple. He swayed for a moment, crouched above Rodetk, half a spear still clutched in his hand.

  Rodetk shuffled back as th
e half-spear fell from the redcap’s hand and clattered against the stone floor. With a look of surprise in his eyes, the redcap slumped face-down.

  Panting, I lowered the smoking gun. My ears were ringing. Rodetk stared at me, still stunned. He nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  I turned away with a grunt and nudged the redcap with my shoe. As I watched, the red of the goblin’s hat faded. Its bloody stain pooled on the floor, mixing with the blood coming from the hole in his head.

  It had to take some nasty magic to turn an ordinary goblin into something like this. I looked at the five caged creatures, their blood still being drained to fill the pool the redcap had been bathing in.

  Nasty magic indeed.

  Lilian. I spun around and found her lying at the base of the bookcase where she’d fallen. My chest tightened, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe. I rushed to her.

  “We have to go,” Rodetk grunted as he picked himself up. “They will have heard that shot.”

  I began to shove aside the books that had half-buried Lilian’s body. “In a minute.”

  “We don’t have a minute.”

  “Shut up!” I snapped at him. “Get those creatures out of their cages. Take those damn tubes out of their arms.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it!”

  I turned back and pulled the last scroll from over Lilian’s face. She was as gray as the stone floor beneath her. Her eyes were closed. I felt for her wound, but I couldn’t find it.

  “Lilian,” I said, grabbing her by the chin and shaking her roughly. “Lilian, goddamn it.”

  She was limp. I had to stop the bleeding. But I couldn’t see where she’d been stabbed. Where the hell was the wound?

  I felt for a pulse. Couldn’t find that either.

  She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t be.

  “Lilian!” I thumped my fist against her sternum. Her body shook limply under the force of my blow. Her head lolled to the side. “Lilian!”

  I brought my fist down once more. Lilian’s eyes snapped open.

  With a screech, she arched her back and sucked in air. Her muscles tensed, her hands curling into claws.

  “Lilian!” I grabbed her by the shoulders. She was alive. She was alive!

  But something was wrong. Her gasp didn’t stop. She just kept sucking in air, kept making that horrifying sound. Her mouth was open wider than I thought possible.

  She turned her eyes on me. She had no pupils. Something dark and smoky moved through the whites. Her mouth pulled down in a furious sneer. One hand snapped forward, trying to grab me by the throat.

  But as I jerked back, she went limp again. Her arm fell to the floor. Her eyes fluttered closed.

  “Lilian?” I said.

  She opened her eyes again. There was no screaming this time. No weird smoky eyes. With a grunt of pain, she gripped her stomach.

  “Oh, Christ,” she said. “I…I’m all right.” She looked around. “What happened to the redcap?”

  “Forget that,” I said. “You’ve been stabbed. Let me look at it.”

  I tried to push her arm aside, but she stiffened. “I’m fine. It only grazed me.”

  “Grazed you? It went right through you!”

  She raised herself up on one elbow, looking down at her stomach. I could see a tear in the fabric, but there were only a few spots of blood. “It’s dark in here,” she said. “Your eyes are playing tricks on you.” She winced and rubbed her head, where she’d slammed against the bookcase. Her color was already coming back. “Damn it. Help me up.”

  She was lying. I knew what I saw. That spear had gone through her.

  I couldn’t believe she was alive and talking, let alone able to stand. But when I took her hand, her skin was warm, and when I pulled her to her feet, she didn’t fall.

  She started to turn away, but I kept hold of her hand.

  “How?” I said.

  “Turner!” Rodetk called. “We have to go!”

  He had all the cages open, and he’d removed the tubes from all five of the strange little creatures. But they still sat in their cages, staring blankly. They’d lost so much blood they could barely move. I didn’t want to have to carry them out of here, but I couldn’t just leave them. Whatever they were, they deserved better than this.

  I found my truncheon on the floor and hooked it to my belt. Putting aside the mystery of Lilian’s miraculous survival, I went to the cages and grabbed one of the creatures. It clung to me lazily, threatening to chew on my ear.

  “What are you doing?” Rodetk snapped. “Didn’t you hear me? We have to go!”

  “We’re bringing them with us,” I said, trying to grab another creature out of its cage as it swiped at my hand. “Lilian, take the gun out of my pocket. Rodetk, you grab those two, and…” I paused, looking around. “Where’s the storykeeper?”

  My answer came a moment later when I heard heavy boot steps on the spiral staircase. “They’re down there!” the storykeeper’s voice echoed down the stairs. “They made me take them. They made me!”

  I swore. “Lilian, my gun! There must be another way out of—”

  Goblins began pouring out of the stairwell, snarling as they moved to surround us. The clambered across tables and leapt from walls, traversing the junk-filled chamber as easily as if were empty. Spear tips gleamed and guns were cocked.

  Before we could move, they’d spread about us with unnatural speed. There were eight of them, and they were redcaps, every last one of them.

  “Surrender!” hissed the one I took to be their leader. He held a rifle that looked like it’d last been used to hunt dodos. He aimed it at me, which I didn’t think was very fair. Lilian was the one who could take a spear through the chest and live to tell about it.

  I looked around for escape. There was none.

  There was a shuffling sound, then another figure emerged from the stairwell. The goblin was tall, though not as tall as the redcaps that’d fanned out around us. He wore a hooded black robe, and the only weapon he carried was a staff of gnarled wood. A black strip of fabric was wrapped around his head, covering his left eye. Around his neck he wore a necklace tied with animal bones.

  I knew a sorcerer when I saw one.

  “Likho,” I whispered.

  The goblin sorcerer shuffled into the chamber and stared at us with his single eye. He was dragging the storykeeper behind him. She seemed to be trying to get as far away from him as possible without actually tearing herself out of his grasp. She raised a shaking finger and pointed at us.

  “There,” she rasped. “That’s them.”

  A smile twisted his lips. “Take them.”

  28

  The redcaps took my truncheon and my revolver.

  It wasn’t all bad. I got a little pleasure out of the hiss of pain one of them gave when he touched the silver head of the truncheon. Most goblins weren’t bothered by silver, but then these weren’t ordinary goblins.

  I was the only one they bothered to bind. A redcap tied my hands behind my back so tight it made my fingers tingle.

  “What’s the matter?” I said as he pulled the last knot extra tight. “Scared of the big bad witch?”

  He just sneered.

  The smell of blood hung about the redcaps. As they herded us into better light, I noticed their skin had a faint tinge of red to it. A side effect of their blood baths, I guessed. None of them gave any sign that they regretted being altered by Likho’s sorcery. They were true fanatics.

  Likho gestured to one of the redcaps. “Return the little ones to their cages.” He had a smoker’s rasp. When he spoke, his lips only moved the barest amount, like he was afraid talking too much would give him wrinkles.

  The redcap nodded and started rounding up the strange little creatures we’d freed, carrying them back to their cages. They made angry little whining sounds that stung a lot more than they should’ve.

  “Good idea,” I said to Likho. “You already lost one, I see.”

  The sorcerer fi
xed me with his eye, his chin moving side to side. Something about him made it hard to meet his gaze. I did it anyway.

  “You’re a witch,” he said. “Your kind is forbidden here.”

  I said nothing.

  “I’ll see you burned for what you’ve done,” he said with a twisted smile. He cast his eye over Rodetk. “I knew I would see you again one day, Lieutenant. But I didn’t expect it to be under these circumstances.”

  Rodetk bared his teeth and hissed.

  “Nothing to say?” Likho asked.

  “Not to you, sorcerer.”

  With a twirl of his robes, Likho spun around. “Fine. You can explain yourself to the Lord.”

  I had the point of a spear in my back the whole way up the stairs. The redcap just kept it there, prodding me with every step.

  “Will you knock that off?” I said. “Or are you going to make me shove that thing down your throat?”

  The redcap glared at me with red-tinted eyes and gave me a few extra pokes for the hell of it.

  We reached the top of the stairs and kept on walking. Likho shuffled along ahead of us, one hand on his staff and the other clutching the storykeeper by the robes.

  Lilian and Rodetk both looked okay, given the circumstances. There was a nasty cut on Rodetk’s forearm that hadn’t stopped bleeding, but he wasn’t complaining. When I glanced at Lilian, she caught my eye and raised her eyebrows, as if to ask: “How are we getting out of this one, fearless leader?”

  I wished I knew the answer.

  Everything had gone to hell. I was running out of time. I had less than twelve hours until I had to surrender my body to the Dealer. And yet we still hadn’t found the Mills boy—dead or alive—and I didn’t even know what curse Likho was working.

  I glared at the sorcerer’s cloaked form as we were led down a stone corridor. He had to be the one who’d blackmailed Brandon Mills. I’d been killed because of this son of a bitch.