Since I was the leader, and none of us, except Hieronymus had lived in Rubalia in a very long time, I stepped forward. “We wish you no harm,” I said. “We just want to pass.”
I noticed a hint of movement from the corner of my eye and then I was knocked to the ground as something whistled over my head.
“I just saved your life,” Pippi said. She was lying on top of me, making it hard for me to breath. My face was smooshed into the tall grass and wildflowers. “Did someone throw an ax at my head?” I managed to ask.
“Yep,” she said. “But they aren’t doing anything now, just standing there. What should we do, captain?”
“Well, they don’t like talking, so maybe we could try walking through the field as we were? Maybe they just want to be left alone.”
She eased up on me a bit. “When I want to be alone, I just say ‘leave me the fuck alone’ I don’t throw axes at people’s heads.”
“Really?”
She sighed. “Not unless I know them.”
“Can you get off me?”
She stood, dusting herself off. “You’re welcome.” She didn’t offer me a hand up. I got to my feet and stood next to her. The dwarves were still grinning, flashing sharp teeth at us. “Why don’t you try talking to them?” I asked Pippi in a low voice. “You probably speak their language.”
I could practically hear her eye roll. “We don’t want to fight you,” she yelled at the dwarves. I saw another axe heading her way and shoved her to the side. Behind us, our troops moved out of firing range. I didn’t turn to see how far they’d gone. Frost stepped up behind me, close enough that I could feel his warmth against my back.
“We just want to—” Pippi trailed off as more dwarves flooded onto the field and surrounded us. “Well, shit,” Pippi said. “I really thought we’d make it farther than this.”
“You are surrounded,” one of the dwarves shouted. “Lay down your weapons and admit defeat.”
“Fuck that,” Pippi said. She opened her mouth to yell, but I slapped my hand over it.
“Shut. Up.” I looked around at what appeared to be more than five hundred dwarves. “If they wanted us dead, we’d be dead. Let’s not start a fight we can’t win.”
She glared at me, so I kept my hand over her mouth. “Do what he says,” I yelled to the troops. I didn’t release Pippi’s mouth until I heard weapons clatter to the ground.
“This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” Pippi said in a low voice. “And that’s saying a lot.”
“Thank her,” Frost said, his voice betraying no fear at our precarious situation, his strength giving me strength. “She just saved your life.”
Pippi snorted and probably would have said something snide, but the dwarves descended on us and tied our hands behind our backs.
“What are you going to do with us?” I asked the dwarf who was leading me toward the forest. He looked younger than me, but his white beard was full and fluffy and he was dressed all in red and had a red hat that looked very much like the one St. Nicholas wore. I wondered if the Santa Claus legend came from the dwarves or if one of the dwarves had gone to the Non, seen Santa Claus, and told his dwarf friends in Rubalia about it. Had they all started dressing this way as some sort of twisted joke?
“We will take you to our village and let the young ones kill you. They need the practice.”
Pippi grunted behind me. Somehow, she managed to make her grunt communicate ‘I told you so.’
Frost was led past me, his wrists tied so tight his hands were turning blue. He looked over his shoulder at me and the dwarf leading him protested and punched him hard in the stomach. The little guy must have packed a lot of strength in a small package, because Frost dropped to his knees and grunted in pain. I bit my lip not to cry out. I fought the cords around my wrists and started toward him. Two dwarves stepped in front of me and shoved me back. I stumbled, but managed not to hit the ground.
Frost looked at me and shook his head. He pushed to his feet and allowed himself to be led away. My chest ached as I watched him go, but I tried to trust. If he felt we were in real danger, he’d fight. I knew he would. I didn’t know what the dwarves had done to make him think we’d be okay, but I trusted him and his instincts.
The dwarves led me and Pippi toward what appeared to be a large pit in the ground and walked us into it. At the far side of the pit was a tunnel that so low I had to bend over to walk into it. The dwarf had no such problem. “Have you had any trouble with the nightmares?”
The dwarf grunted. “They don’t bother us. They run from our axes.”
I looked back at Pippi, but she shrugged. Could the nightmares fear axes enough to leave the dwarves alone? Or maybe they were just too busy with the rest of Rubalia to be bothered? “But they might not run forever,” I said. “They’re enslaving the other citizens of Rubalia. Eventually, they’ll come looking for more slaves.”
“Which is why we are training our young ones sooner than is our custom.”
“But we’re here to fight the nightmares,” I said. “We stand a real shot of getting them out of Rubalia.”
“We will defeat them when the time is right,” the dwarf said. “We will be the heroes and the new rulers of Rubalia.”
I sighed. “Is there someone in charge? Some leader I can speak to about this?”
“I am the leader,” he said. “I have heard your petition and I have denied it. You will fight.”
We stepped into an enormous underground cavern, its walls lined with small huts and cottages that were each uniquely shaped and adorned. They were adorable. “Fight?” I asked. “I thought you said you would let them kill us?”
He smiled, his sharp teeth visible. “You will die, but you will fight first. There is no skill to be gained by killing a bound captive.”
“What if we fight your young ones, but no one dies? We can give them the practice they need and be on our way. You let us go with the hope that we will defeat the nightmares.”
He sneered. “And claim our glory as your own? We would rather perish.”
“You will die, you ignorant barbarian,” Pippi said. “You know nothing of the nightmares, they—”
“Look,” I said. “What if you sent a handful of your fiercest warriors with us? They could bring glory to your people, and they’d have a better chance of success. We fought the nightmares in the Non. We defeated them in the Non.”
This gave the dwarf pause. “How do I know you won’t claim the glory for yourselves and share none with us?”
“You have my word that won’t happen.”
He grunted and nodded. “Sign in blood, and I’ll agree.”
“Of course.”
He spoke to the other dwarves in some language I didn’t know. It could have been English peppered with their own slang, but he spoke too fast for me to be sure.
“Now,” he said. “You and her,” he pointed to Pippi and me. “You come with me.”
Our hands were released and we followed the dwarf across the enormous cavern and up two flights of stairs to a small, one-room dwelling. “What’s your name?” I asked.
Pippi poked me in the side, but I ignored her.
“You may call me Berg,” he said. He crossed the dwelling, which held a bed, a table, and little else. He shuffled through a pile of items, animal hides and rocks and herbs. “Here it is.”
He carried over a thin piece of leather with words already etched into it. I didn’t recognize any of the words, but it seemed rather suspicious that he had it just lying around. “What does it say?”
“It says you will help us and we will help you and, if the contract is broken, we will kill you or you will kill us.” He looked at me, his brow creased. “Do you not read?”
“Not in that language.” I honestly had no way of knowing that the contract didn’t give him permission to kill us all, but I didn’t have any other options. I looked back at Pippi, but she just shrugged.
He laid the skin out and handed me a knife. “Since you d
o not read, you do not write. Just use three drops of your blood to sign.”
I sliced a small cut into the fingertip of my pinky, figuring it was the least useful finger, and plopped three drops of my blood onto the paper. Pippi did the same and then Berg signed his name in blood. “It is done,” he said. “Now, we celebrate.”
“We’re kind of in a hurry,” I said. “Can’t we just fight your kids and get going?”
His smile grew wider. I was beginning to think it was impossible for the dwarves to frown. “No. Friends are rare and must be celebrated. All else will occur in its rightful time and way.”
This guy was such an unusual mix of aggression, tradition, and laid-back attitude I had no idea what to expect from him from moment to moment.
***
I rubbed the ache in my temple and faced the child I’d been assigned to fight. While she’d slept with the other children, I’d been celebrating with dancing, food, mock-duels, and fae alcohol until nearly dawn. I’d been allowed one hour of sleep, on a thin mat over the rocky ground, and then I’d been awakened by a bucket of ice cold water thrown on my head. Benny and the other dragons had returned and found us during the festivities. They’d joined the party without too much grumbling. They had grumbled when they were also woken by a dousing.
Now, after a breakfast of dried meat, I faced off against a girl, who looked to be no older than eight, with snow-white braids and a pinched, adorable face. She smiled, revealing sharp, white teeth and let out a growl that rasped against my spine and made goosebumps pop out all over my skin.
We stood in a large clearing, the dirt damp beneath our feet. To either side of me, my friends also faced off against dwarf children. I’d been given a large stick to defend myself and the little girl in front of me held a wooden sword that was almost as long as she was tall.
I’d learned long ago not to underestimate anyone, but it was difficult not to think of her as a weak child who I didn’t wish to hurt or upset, her fierce growl notwithstanding. What if she cried? I raised my stick and nodded to her. “I’m ready if you are.”
She moved so fast I had a hard time keeping my eyes on her. She darted to my left and came up behind me, managing to whack me on the ass, before I swung around and blocked her next strike.
My ass stung. If she’d had a real sword, I’d be in major trouble. I didn’t have too much time to worry about that before she came at me again. She hopped and somehow vaulted over my head, swatting my hair on her way over. Again, I swung around to face her. I wasn’t going to be beaten by a child. I glanced to my right and left and saw Pippi and Benny in fierce battle, though they seemed to be faring better than I. Pippi had knocked her opponent to the ground and Benny’s opponent was panting and sweating.
Behind us, Frost was fighting a boy who was nearly as big as him. Frost glanced my way, his grin huge like he was enjoying himself, and the boy took advantage by smacking Frost hard in the face. Frost’s grin widened, his eyes going a bit glowy amber, and he spun to face the boy.
“What’s your name?” I asked the little girl. She was smiling like this was the most fun she’d had in weeks. Her eyes were lit with excitement. If she was this happy about a puppy or a new toy, I’d think she was adorable. Being happy about fighting made the whole thing more than a little creepy.
“Plum,” she said. She darted low and swung for my knees, but I blocked her and leapt over her head. She popped up and faced me, her smile widening. “You, fairy princess, are as weak as a newborn babe who hasn’t eaten in a month.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m just getting warmed up.”
She snorted and vaulted into the air again. I’d had enough of her taunts, so I smacked her out of the air with my stick. She hit the ground hard and screeched in pain. Benny and Pippi shot me wide-eyed glares, but their opponents ignored Plum’s screams.
I dropped my stick and knelt by Plum’s side. “Are you okay?” I asked, looking her over. “What’s hurt?”
She twisted and shoved her wooden sword under my chin. “You are.”
I conceded defeat and we fought again. Each time we fought, and each time she beat me, I began to see her less and less as a child and more and more as a worthy opponent. By the end of the day, we were both sweaty, dirty, and breathing hard and, though she’d beaten me more than I’d beaten her, I felt I’d held my own.
“How are you going to fight the nightmares when you can’t even fight a child?” Pippi asked me over the campfire that evening. Frost was by my side, and I was leaning against him more than a little bit. I was sore and exhausted.
“The nightmares aren’t pretending to be adorable little girls,” I said. “I was trying not to hurt her.”
Pippi smirked. “Right.”
“I saw you knocked on your ass more than a few times by the little boy you were fighting.”
She shrugged. “I had to let him win a few times. Builds morale. At least I can say I won more matches than I lost.”
“She’s some sort of savant,” I said. “She can jump like a grasshopper and she’s been training since birth.”
“She’s a tiny kid,” Benny said. “You should have owned her.”
“Like you owned your opponent,” Frost said. “You’re covered in welts.”
Benny looked away. “I bruise easy.” He looked Frost over. “What’s your excuse, wolfy-boy?”
Frost gave him a cocky smile. “Have you seen the boy I fought?”
He pointed out the boy, who was limping away from the clearing. Like Frost, he was so covered in dust and dirt it was hard to see his wounds, but unlike Frost, he had bright red blood seeping out of several places. He was definitely the more injured of the two. Even Pippi looked impressed.
Berg walked over, his frown unnatural after seeing nothing but smiles from him for the past twenty-four hours. “The children tell me you are poor fighters and too sentimental. We are thinking it is a bad idea to send our people with you.”
I sighed. I didn’t think we needed Berg’s warriors, but I wasn’t going to give up any help we could get. “In my culture, children are weak and meant to be protected. I held back to avoid hurting Plum.”
Berg considered my words. “There is no room for mercy or sentiment in battle. If you are to win, you must feel nothing but the lust for blood and victory.”
“That is all we feel when we face the nightmares,” I said.
He looked less than certain, but I wasn’t ready to tell him about the vials of bodily fluids. I didn’t want it to get back to Ludwiggia if it turned out he and his cohorts were a gabby bunch. “We are well-equipped to fight the nightmares,” I said. “We are the best hope for Rubalia. If your warriors find us lacking, they are free to leave at any time.”
He nodded. “I will leave it to them.”
Berg walked off and we didn’t get an answer from him until the next morning, when he introduced us to five of his warriors, three women and two men, and sent us off with them. They joined our large group with broad smiles, but worry in their eyes. I wondered if they were the worst or the best warriors of their clan, if their assignment was a promotion or a demotion, but I didn’t think it would win me any friends to ask.
Benny and the other dragons shifted and flew above us to look out for trouble as we walked.
We entered dense woods on the Eastern side of the field. The trees were so close together over the small dirt path that it seemed unlikely the dragons would be able to see anything on the ground. I opened my mouth to tell the rowdy trolls to shut the hell up so we could hear trouble approaching, but they quieted on their own, their large bodies moving soundlessly through the dense forest.
We walked through the woods for about an hour without signs of any other life, fae or animal. The forest was lush and green, but it seemed to have been abandoned by all forms of fauna.
When we stepped out into sunshine again, everyone relaxed, but we remained quiet, alert to danger. We were still in a forested area, but the trees were far enough apart to let the sun beat d
own on us, the brush low and dotted with spring flowers. I wasn’t sure how time in Rubalia differed from time in the Non, but I’d been told there wasn’t much difference. Their seasons must run in a different cycle than ours.
“Why did you leave Rubalia?” I asked Pippi, desperate for some sort of distraction from the boredom of putting one foot in front of the other and the tension of waiting to be attacked at any moment.
“I was bored,” Pippi said, surprising me both with her willingness to answer and the complete lack of drama in her tone. “I lived in a village, a tiny village of redcaps, most of whom were my blood relatives, in the middle of nowhere. I was expected to marry a guy from a neighboring village and get to work making babies.”
“I thought redcaps believed in equality for women. And that you love adventure and violence and all of that.”
Pippi rolled her eyes. “And, before I moved to the Non, I believed all humans were nearly illiterate barbarians who loved money and power above all else.”
“You know how much I hate stereotypes, Evangeline.” I used her real name, because I was in no mood to hear her whine about her nickname. “But every redcap I’ve met has fit that mold. You can’t deny you love adventure and violence and technology.”
She smiled. “I do love those things. And most of the redcaps you meet in the Non love those things, too, but not because it’s in our blood. I mean, it is in our blood. Sort of. My people have always been warriors and women have always been expected to fight alongside men. I was trained to fight, but I grew up in an age where being a warrior, asserting an opinion, or appearing to be any kind of threat to the fairy regime was dangerous. A good number of our ancestors were slaughtered when your grandfather’s father came to power and declared that fairies should rule Rubalia. I was still trained to fight, but I was trained in secret, as were my siblings and cousins. Without a war to fight, we were expected to marry and have large families. Eventually, in several generations, we’d have a large enough population to go to war against the fairies and have a shot of winning.”
Fairy, Neat (Fairy Files Book 6) Page 8