by CM Raymond
Parker ducked, barely dodging the attack. “Shit, kid. Knock it off. You don’t know what you’re up against.”
“Don’t matter,” the kid snarled. “We want him back.” With that, she rushed them again, bloodlust in her eyes.
Wisely, the kid chose Parker as his target.
Parker spread his legs wide in a defensive pose and waited for the attack.
Springing, the kid launched herself at Parker, whose arms were outstretched. Just as she neared the Arcadian, Parker grabbed the folds of her cloak and rolled, throwing his attacker behind him into the trunk of a pine. As the kid struggled to get up, Parker pulled his magitech spear from his back and leveled it at her. At the same time, Hannah pulled her arms across her chest, shaping two fireballs, one in each hand.
“Don’t,” Hannah said. “You better stop before you get seriously hurt.”
The girl’s eyes cut from Hannah to Parker and back. “You won’t get away with it,” she said just before turning and springing into the pines.
Parker took aim on her with his weapon, but Hannah pushed its barrel toward the ground. “No. We need her.”
Looking up at his friend, Parker realized what she was thinking. Without a word, they dusted themselves off, and proceeded to follow the girl into the woods.
Sal crashed through a second later, a large, dead bird hanging from his teeth.
“Real nice,” Parker said. “You’re supposed to be our watchdog, and instead you’re out gorging yourself on wild game.”
Sal looked at him, then swallowed the bird in one bite—feathers and all.
“See,” Hannah said. “You were mean to him, so you don’t get to share in his hunt.”
Parker thought for a second about swallowing a bird’s beak whole. “Poor me.”
****
Karl leaned his head against solid wooden bars which divided him from freedom, and, for the first time in over a week, he wished he was aboard the airship. At least there he could drink himself to sleep in his room when the druid was driving him crazy. Here, he was stuck with her.
Laurel paced back and forth in her own cell, only five feet away. She looked like a caged animal, wildly waiting for release back into its habitat. On the other side of him was another friend—Hadley. Only this one was slumped in the corner of the cell, still unconscious from the rock he took to the side of the head. The bleeding had stopped, but the boy hadn’t so much as stirred since the attack.
“Scheisse, lass. Stop with yer pacing already,” he called out to Laurel. “It’s driving me mad, and it ain’t doing a shite of good.”
She paused and looked up at him. For the first time since Laurel had joined them from the Dark Forest, her face seemed different. Drawn. Concerned. Karl had spent a day or two in lockup, but it was clear that the situation they were now in was something new for the girl, and Karl felt at least mildly responsible. He glanced beyond his bars and saw his hammer sitting in an open room, resting against the wall, begging for his companionship.
Although he blamed himself for their capture, deep down, he knew there was nothing he could have done. The first rock came out of nowhere, and the aim was perfect. It found its target on Hadley’s temple, as if it were made for it, and dropped the mystic without warning. The rearick’s hammer was out and at the ready before Hadley’s body hit the ground, but it was no use.
Two dozen men, with stork like legs and arms hanging longer than Karl was high, stepped out of the shadows of the rocks. Years of battle had taught the rearick when to fight and when to put up his hands. The former occurred more often than the latter, but today was a day for surrender. Laurel felt differently.
She had already sprang into action. Her wicked rope work had sent one of them tumbling, and another was fighting off a small shrub. Luckily, Karl had gotten her to stop before someone was seriously hurt. Odds are this lot would have repaid blood for blood, and he felt responsible for his young companions.
Even though he knew his decision was the right one, he still cursed himself.
They bound he and Laurel with lashes of leather. Their work was silent, even though the feisty young druid demanded their response. From the first moment he saw them, Karl knew these were men on a mission, and that it wasn’t their job to discuss terms with their captors. Even then, he second guessed himself. If he had engaged, the girl would have fallen suit. They’d have taken out a swath of the men, and, if all things worked to their advantage, they may have won. But chance is a bitch and luck a whore. Karl knew not to trust either.
Now, alone in his cell, he needed to figure out their next move. He paced his cage, taking note of every one of the bars, looking for a sign of weakness. There was always a point of frailty—in men, systems, and even in the prisons they shape. But the place in which he was held seemed to defy this law of the universe. Each bar was perfect, designed to thwart a mind such as his.
He hissed at Laurel. “Aye, what can ya do?” he asked.
She looked up at him and furrowed her brow.
He nodded, thankful for her attention. “With yer magic. These bars are wooden. Wood comes from nature. Bet ya can do somethin’, right? Talk to ‘em or turn ‘em into flowers?”
The girl stared vacantly at him, lost in thought. She stopped pacing and focused on an invisible mark on the floor. After what felt like an eternity, she turned her eyes up to meet his. “Nobody should be held like this. No one.”
“No shite. Maybe someday you can take it up with the Queen Bitch, but for now, she ain’t here. But we are. And you need to focus your energy on getting us the hell outta here.” He placed his finger on the bar that showed the most wear. “Right here. This is the weakest link. Can you make it a little less strong?”
Laurel narrowed her eyes inspecting the seams where the bars met the floor and ceiling. “Nature magic is all about life—that wood has been dead for years.”
“Yeah, but Hannah could turn it into glass or something.”
A playful smile spread across the druid’s face. “Well, next time you decide to get captured, do it with Hannah.”
“I just meant—”
“I know what you meant,” she said. “But it just doesn’t work like that, not for me. Maybe if we were at ground level—I could try and pull on some nearby roots to help us. But indoors, and at this height, I’m about as useless as you are.”
“Good to know,” Karl said. “Remind me why we brought you on this little quest?”
She smiled. “Because you love me.” She looked at the bars again. “What the hell? I can give it a shot, I guess. Not much else going on here. And if it’ll get you to stop sulking, it’ll be worth it.”
Karl watched as Laurel grabbed the bars of her own cell and focused her attention on his. Her eyes turned green as she attempted to connect with the natural elements in the bars holding them prisoner.
He muttered a prayer to whatever being might be listening under his breath and realized that his years of suspicion of magic had all been a waste of energy. It had saved his ass more than once before, and he hoped it might just work this time.
The bars in front of him began to grow warm, and he couldn’t tell if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but they seemed to glow a little. He wasn’t exactly sure what sort of connection she had with them, but there was something. Finally, Laurel exhaled in exhaustion and leaned against the wall of her cell.
“Sorry, no can do. Looks like we’re stuck here.”
“Well, thanks for trying,” Karl said. “But let’s not lose hope that easily. I might just have some magic up my sleeve, too.”
He paced to the other side of his cell and grabbed a simple chair—the only furniture in this place—left by some sort of mercy by the guards. Wedging the front legs between the bars, Karl pushed, veins popping from his temples. He put all of his weight and muscle into the lever. And just as he was about to give in, he felt something give and then heard a loud pop.
It wasn’t the bars, but the chair that gave up on the battle of wood
on wood. As the the legs snapped off, Karl followed his weight and slammed against the bars. Nose throbbing, he shouted, “Blasted son of a scheisse!”
Laurel laughed. “That is one impressive magic trick. I’ll have to remember it.”
“Har har,” he said as he sat on the ground and checked to see if his nose was broken. “Well, it looks like we’ve only got one thing left to do... we wait. Who knows what these long-legged bastards want with us, but we need to stay on alert. We bide our time, and keep a watchful eye out for our opportunity. I ain’t dyin’ here—and I ain’t lettin’ you or Hadley either. We’re gonna bust our arses outta this damned place.”
Laurel shrugged. “Or we wait for Hannah and Parker to do it for us.”
Karl smiled. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Barely keeping the kid in sight, Parker followed her footsteps down the hill and toward the water that lay below. Hannah was just behind him, walking gently enough to be almost silent. Or maybe the lumbering of the dragon made enough noise to cover any sound either of them were making.
“Sal,” he whispered. “Can you please be a little less noisy?”
The dragon stopped, looked at his taloned feet and then back up at Parker. He tilted his head and blinked twice.
“I didn’t think so.”
“Just keep moving,” Hannah said. “The kid can’t hear us from this far back. We’ll be fine.”
Parker scanned the trees, which were thinning out as they reached a clearing. The rock wall still stood, towering over them, and, as far as Parker could see, led straight down to the shoreline.
“I’m not worried about that one,” Parker said, pointing ahead at the figure that cut through the rocks just down the hill. “If she were out here, who knows how many of them might be hiding in those rocks, even now?”
Hannah nodded and remained silent, which meant she had no answer for her old friend. He couldn’t help but give her a grin, knowing that for once, he was right. They pushed on out of the cover of the pines and into a clearing that spread out before a steep drop.
They huddled behind a pile of rocks, looking down toward the ocean. The kid looked back twice, trying to see if she was followed as she trotted toward a small village rising out of the perfectly cobalt sea. Parker had never seen such a place before. To him, it was like something from the stories told when he was a child… A place where the ocean stretched off into forever and swallowed the horizon.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
Hannah crouched next to him. “Thanks, but I could use a bath right about now.”
It was his turn to ignore her as he examined the village as carefully as he could from that distance. There were dozens of short houses. From their vantage point, they looked like something that he, Hannah, and Will would have made from sticks and grass in their childhood. A larger building, one built from stone, rose from the center. It looked austere in comparison to the low huts.
“That’s where they’ll be,” he said, pointing at the building in the center of the city.
Hannah’s eyes flashed red, and Parker knew exactly what she was doing. The psychic connection between her and Hadley was helpful, but he couldn’t help but resent the special bond it created between them. They were in near constant communication, always sharing secret jokes with one another. While he had seen nothing to make him suspect their relationship was anything more than friends, just the glimmers of something in his imagination drove him mad.
“Nothing,” she finally said, her eyes turning back to their normal color.
“Hell, maybe he isn’t there. We never really considered that.”
Hannah shook her head. “No. He’s there. I couldn’t reach him, but I just know it.”
“Couldn’t you do your mind-walking thing? Scope out the village that way?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Although projecting myself that far is probably a bit beyond me. Not to mention the fact that I’d move almost as slow as if I were on foot.”
Parker nodded. “Well, if magic can’t do it, we’ll try the old-fashioned way. You and the lizard stay here. I’ll head into the town and see what I can find.”
A scowl rose on her face. “No way you’re going without us.”
Parker looked at Sal. The dragon had his head low, like he was trying to hide, but his green, scaly ass was pointing straight into the air, clearly standing out overtop the sandy rocks. If the situation wasn’t so dire, Parker would have hit the ground laughing.
“I don’t think your pet is really built for stealth. He’d bring the village down on us in minutes. You two stay here. I’ll head in and poke around. Keep your eye on the skies. If I need you, I’ll give three quick blasts with my spear. At that point, I think Sal will be more than helpful.”
Hannah bit her lip and considered the request for a moment. “OK,” she finally said. “But don’t hesitate. We’ve already lost half of our team. I don’t want to lose you, too.”
“Can’t imagine life without me, huh?”
“What can I say? We need the numbers… Now, get your ass moving before I change my mind.”
Parker reached down to grab her hand. Their fingers instinctively interlaced before he pulled away, turned, and jogged down the hill.
He thought back to the ass kicking Laurel had given him on the ship. He was getting better at fighting, and Gregory’s tech helped a ton. But he would never be an all-star on the battlefield, not like Karl or the druid. But this... this was his element. Stealth and strategy—seeking out others’ weaknesses and exploiting them.
That’s what his friends needed right now, and that’s what he had to offer.
As he neared the edge of the village, he ducked behind an empty hut that was positioned a little higher up the hill. It gave him a solid vantage point of the south side of town and a street that led to the building at the hub of the community. From where he knelt, he watched members of the village going about their day-to-day affairs.
They wore simple clothes, and each of them were built like the kid they met on the hill above him—thin, with strangely long legs and arms hanging down to their knees. But they also had huge hands and feet, giving them a frog-like appearance.
Parker had seen enough of the world to know people looked pretty different than they did in Arcadia. The rearick were all stocky and hairy—although they had the strength of a bull. Laurel was the only druid he knew, but he gathered enough from her stories to suspect that most of her people looked like her too—green eyes, fair skin, and just a hint of a point to their ears.
And here, in this tiny village, were the toad people.
He pictured the girl they followed and the way she was able to fly down the cliff face. Even with her amputated arm, her long reach—not to mention the strength in her good hand—must make climbing a breeze.
He imagined they’d be pretty badass swimmers as well.
Turning, he found a narrow passage between two rows of houses. It was something they would consider an alley in Arcadia, but the word didn’t quite fit the tidy little village. He kept his head low, slinking slowly under open windows. With his short arms and legs and strange clothes, he knew it would be nearly impossible to simply meld in with the rest of the people. He was a foreigner from head to toe.
He kept to the shadows, something the setting sun made easy, and worked closer and closer to the center. As he crept to the edge of a major street, he could see the main building. A quick sprint and he would be there, but the sound of voices caught his attention. He dove for cover behind a large barrel.
“We gotta be careful,” one voice, low and gravelly said. “Apparently, there are more around than those foreigners we caught on the hill. Heard Aysa shouting about it.”
“Ah, she’s crazy,” another voice replied. “I wouldn’t trust a word she said.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not letting my kids wander the edges, especially after what happened to Samet.”
Another voice,
a bit higher, but just as rough, said, “Been years since we’ve seen outsiders, but Samet ain’t exactly like you and me. I’m sure your little grubs are safe out there. Especially since the chief has got all of us on high alert.”
The other man laughed. “Probably right, but I’m not taking chances. Who knows what these barbarians are after?”
The men kept talking, but Parker lost their conversation as they moved down the street. Seemed his friends—the barbarians—were certainly here. He turned his attention to the large building ahead of him. Peeking out from around the corner of the alley, he found the streets empty. He exhaled, jumped to his feet, and started at a sprint for the door at the front of the structure.
Relief set in as the knob turned. He dove inside, closed the door behind him, and dropped to the ground, listening for any sign of life inside the building.
Nothing. It was quiet.
He moved around on tiptoes. The first floor was empty, so he took a narrow staircase up. The wooden steps squeaked beneath him, and he held his breath as the climb terminated at a closed door at the top. He pulled his magitech staff from his back, turned the knob, and stepped through into blinding light.
The door opened to a narrow hall that was covered on one side by windows. Just ahead, he could see it opened into a bigger room. What lay beyond that was what interested him. Through an open door, he could see the outline of what looked like bars—as good of an indication as any that he had found his friends.
He stepped into the room, but his eyes caught movement to the right. Parker tried to raise his staff in defense, but he was slow compared to the long, swinging arm of the guard who was waiting for him.
One hand lashed out—bigger than Karl’s head—and swiped the spear from Parker’s hand. The other landed a fist as hard as rock on his temple. The world spun, and Parker dropped.
****
Karl’s head jerked toward the hall when he heard a crash followed by the sound of a fist on flesh. “Damn it,” he shouted at Laurel. “I believe that’s our cue.”