by Jill Nojack
"I see. You did hear that part about where I'll just be pretending to be Thomas's girlfriend, right?"
Avenall turned to look at her then. She gave him her most impish smile. He looked shy for a moment, maybe even a little embarrassed, and then he smiled an impish smile back.
***
"This way, Hamish, it looks like the wee cretins went through here." Eamon followed the low trail of bent grasses and broken flowers to walk through a bog ripe with the smell of rotting vegetation. "I have to say this for them, it will keep the elf from picking up their scent, that's for sure. Assuming he doesn't question why a bog's gotten up and started walkin' about."
Eamon pulled up short on the far side of the bog and Hamish nearly bumped into him as he did. In front of them, three gnomes sat rocking back and forth in the dirt, heads in their hands and hands covering their faces, around a mound of freshly dug earth.
"Gurrdenn, what's gone on here? You were supposed to report back."
Gurrdenn replied in gnomish. "Trerrfrn dead. Many pieces." The gnome lowered his head and shook it slowly back and forth. "So many."
Recognizing the reason for the disturbed earth, Eamon asked the next logical question, although he felt sure he already knew the answer. "Who killed him?"
"Elf."
"Why didn't you come back right away and let us know? We would have been right out after him."
Gurrdenn's eyes flashed anger. "Many pieces."
Hamish prodded Eamon and whispered, "I think they had to find all the parts before they buried him? You know how the gnomes are about getting their dead buried and back home in the earth quickly."
"Och, sorry, I..."
Gurrdenn sat back down and joined the ring of mourners, motioning to Eamon and Hamish to join them.
The gruagachs sat with the gnomes in silence, waiting for daylight when the mourning period would end and they could follow the gnomes to Freoric's camp.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Hole In The Earth
The insignia on the wooden box on Shan's desk glowed, signaling that a message from the assassin had arrived. He slid the top of the box aside and removed the small, folded manuscript within. As he read, his heart grew glad. The event he'd been waiting for would happen this very night.
But he was displeased when Freoric described the arrival of the dragons. He forced himself not to dwell on it and turned his mind back to the completion of all he had planned through the work of the Abomination. When it was done, the fae would have no choice but to turn away from their human queen and back to the old ways. The elves would once again have the power of the forests and a respected voice in fae leadership.
Still, he relished the thought of making the boy pay for his betrayal. His mother would have sheltered him just as she sheltered him from Shan's wrath when the shame of his magic became known, but Shan knew better what to do with such a child. All residents of the compound would watch as Shan swung the blade, reminding the sons of the elves of the power of the ancient ways.
It cheered him to picture his son's undoing. He had to share it with someone, someone who would care and cry now that the boy's mother no longer could. He stood and strode confidently out the door and down the stairs to the prison below him.
***
Oriane lay in a corner of her cage. Her energy, the very force of her life, was fading from being so little connected to the soil. If she didn't unite with the earth again soon she'd become so weak she wouldn't be able to initiate a return to her nature form. Soon after she could no longer transform, she would die. When the door to her cell opened, she didn't even try to pull herself up to see who had entered.
It didn't matter. She knew his voice.
"Are you weakened, dryad? I'd hoped you would live long enough to see my son returned to the compound and have justice served upon him. It will be a shame if you are not there at the end. Perhaps I will have the guards bring a pot of earth for you to revel in and regain your strength. But only if you please me."
She gathered what strength she had to pull herself up and sat facing him, her back against the bars of her cage. "And how would I please you, elder?" she asked. She tried to spit her words out with spite, but they came only as a whisper.
"Beg for his life, dryad. You are the only one who would. His mother abandoned him long ago out of shame."
"How will you even find him?" she asked.
"I have already found him. He is with the queen he loves so much. Together, they will stand in mute witness at the return of the world's power to the fae. Tonight, the wizard Thomas activates the spell that will destroy human technology. When it does, the humans will beg for scraps from our tables. And we will only laugh."
Oriane controlled her emotion, not wanting to spend any of it on tears, but one drop rolled down her cheek to land on her gown and wet it.
"Only one tear from you for your dear boy? And you do not wish to beg for his life?"
"I will beg for nothing. You have no mercy within you. The dryads know that Avenall's mother never abandoned him. You left her to die in the forest of the wounds you dealt her. The dryad's sight is everywhere."
Shan's words roared forth like the cry of a ghoul. "She bore a Dragon Tender!" He leaned into her cage as he screamed the words out. "She was not worthy of me!"
Oriane's fading whisper answered him back, gentle and yet more forceful than the words he shouted. "Yes, Shan, that is true. No one has ever deserved you."
He shoved the cage, making it swing back and forth on its chain. The motion made her sick. She closed her eyes to fight the nausea. When the swinging stopped and she opened them again, he was gone.
She tried to reach for the crack between the stones, but she was too weak. The effort was too much. Her head slumped to her chest, her body relaxed and pitched to the side.
The guard outside her chamber heard her body fall and peered through the window of the cell's thick wooden door. Sadness shadowed his face as he left his post to summon the healer.
***
Thon carried the dryad's body from her cage. The healer had found no life in her, and there was nothing left but to dispose of her remains. It was a shame that such beauty was lost. Although Thon had asked many times over the past days to be allowed to bring her soil, he'd been denied. Elder Shan was a stern leader, and his word was law. He could not disobey.
Even so, he wouldn't burn her as he was instructed. He couldn't. He had more respect for the dryads than his leader did. The dryads had long lived in harmony with the elves. He would return her to the soil as is the way of the forest people. He gently lay her body down in the cart he'd brought to the front of the council house. He covered her and wheeled toward the gates.
With the humans no longer outside the compound, he would have no trouble finding a quiet place outside to return her to nature. In the flames he would later ignite to give the appearance of disposal by fire, he would burn the body of a goat instead of the body of the dryad. The dryad would already be with nature.
***
Avenall was disoriented at first when he found himself inside the cell in the elvin compound, still holding Lizbet's hand. He oriented himself quickly and turned around to the empty cage.
"No, she's not here. It must be the other cell."
With a sprinkle of pixie dust, he and his queen disappeared again to reappear in the identical cell on the other side of the wall.
This time, their appearance did not go undetected. A guard had just opened the door, carrying a bucket of water. When he saw Lizbet, he gaped for a moment then went to one knee on the stone floor. "My queen, forgive me, I did not expect anyone to be in this cell. I have been sent to clean it now that the prisoner is gone."
Lizbet was surprised that an elf would still bend his knee to her. "You may rise," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on him, ready for any sudden move. "Avenall, do you know him?"
Avenall moved forward to stand beside her. "Yes. He's called Thon, and he is a guard here in the council house."
"She was. But she was kept from the soil too long, and she died. Shan would not allow her even the smallest pot of earth."
Lizbet heard Avenall's sharp intake of breath at the news but knew she couldn't turn to him if she was to continue to appear regal.
"You don't agree with Shan?"
"No, my queen. Not all elves agree with the cruelty of our elders. But we dare not speak up. We have no power against them."
"Then I ask of you that you tell no one we were here."
"As you say. I have not seen you."
Lizbet tossed pixie dust into the air and took Avenall's hand, giving it an extra firm squeeze before she pulled him into the aether.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Warriors
Gurrdenn crawled stealthily along the ground next to Eamon, both of them as silent as the dead gnome they'd spent the night mourning. Eamon was surprised the gnome was avoiding flatulence, burping, and other disgusting and attention-attracting gnomish behavior. They stopped where the dense bushes that hid them turned to grass. Gurrdenn made a motion with his head in the direction of a tent in the clearing. Freoric's hiding place. At last.
Eamon began to crawl backwards as silently as he came so they could return to where Hamish and the other gnomes waited. He indicated for Gurrdenn to do the same. Gurrdenn ignored him and leapt to his feet at the edge of the clearing, screaming out a war cry that was no less blood-curling for being broadcast in the high-pitched tones of a gnome.
Eamon heard the other gnomes crashing through the bushes behind him at Gurrdenn's signal. Their cries and flatulence alerted the assassin, who watched the gnomes run toward him with amusement. Eamon didn't have time to get out of the way before the other two clambered over him on their way to a useless battle.
He had no choice. He had to join them or it would be the end of them. Just another reminder to never trust a gnome to do what you tell him. He'll disappoint you every time.
Freoric used his knife and his feet. Gurrdenn went down to a well placed kick, but he got back up as the other gnomes attacked, swarming up the elf's legs, trying to reach the tender parts at his abdomen. Freoric slit them and tossed them in quick, practiced movements.
Gurrdenn was stopped by a stomp when he rushed toward the elf again: the loud crunch from his leg when his enemy's boot came down on it should have signaled a stop to his attack. But again, he gained his feet unsteadily, hopping along on his good leg and dragging the bad one, chanting to himself, "Kill elf, kill elf, kill elf." The elf just laughed and pulled his foot back again for a kick that sent the injured gnome flying.
When Freoric saw Eamon coming toward him, he retreated into the woods. Even an assassin thinks twice before entering into conflict with an angry gruagach.
Hamish arrived then, and Eamon yelled to him to tend to the injured gnomes as he bolted into the woods to follow Freoric. He probably couldn't capture him on his own, but he could track him anywhere.
He'd followed only a few hundred yards through the stand of trees before the elf stepped out onto a trail leading toward a cement silo and ran to it, entering it and shoving a rusted steel door closed behind him. The place buzzed with magic, and Eamon knew better than to pursue the assassin into an enclosed area alone. He pulled out his phone and made a call to his queen.
***
Following Lizbet's instructions, Eamon hurried toward James's place. She'd told him to meet her there, so he'd shooed Hamish to the silo. He told him to stay put and keep an eye out to make sure Freoric didn't sneak away. Hamish protested, said the gnomes needed him, but he accepted his duty.
Eamon arrived at James's apartment as he was pulling into the driveway after a long night of ghoul-watch in a local cemetery. Eamon couldn't imagine why anyone would face down a ghoul intentionally, but James seemed to take it in stride. Myrddin would have done just the same—if it was a thing that needed doing for the good of others, he would do it without hesitation.
James greeted him with, "Tell me you're just here to bring me a soft pillow and a tasty herbal concoction to help me off to sleep."
"Right. I'll tell you that if you like, but it would be one of those tricksy fae moments that come back to bite ye."
"Yeah, whatever. Do I have time to get a cup of coffee and brush my teeth before you tell me what you've got up your sleeve?" James asked as he started up the stairs to his apartment, motioning for Eamon to follow.
"If you must. But do it while you're devising a plan to restrain Freoric. The gnomes found him but not without a casualty. Hamish and I sat mourning with them overnight for the one of the huddle that ended up buried."
James's face darkened with anger. "I never should have agreed to use them like this. And Bobby's going to be so upset."
"Aye, I hope Trerrfrn wasn't one of his special friends from the huddle. Gurrdenn's in bad shape, too. Hamish will patch him up as best he can as soon as he can get back to them. All three of them will be out of the spying game for a while. Not that we'll be needing their services if we can catch our prey today."
James splashed cold water on his face at the sink. Then he put a wet hand on the back of his neck to soothe the angry red patch he knew was growing there. "Where's he at?" He took his toothbrush from a cup, wet it, and sprinkled a concoction of herbs across the bristles as he spoke.
"He's holed up in some kind of round cement contraption. The air around it, even from a good distance, fair crackles with magic. Hamish is supposed to be keepin' an eye on him, but I thought it best that no one gets close until we've had a chance to study it thoroughly."
Lizbet materialized in the living room behind Eamon as he spoke. James was surprised to see her there when he turned back to ask another question. "Not only the jester, but the queen. Looks like I'm not getting any shuteye today."
Lizbet crossed the short way across the small apartment and slipped into his arms for a hug before she said, "Yep. Sorry about that. I just dropped Avenall off to grab his dragon. I hated asking him, but he'll meet us there. He's just had a bad shock about a good friend of his. He really shouldn't have to deal with this right now, but I don't want to risk Freoric getting away, and I know he doesn't either."
"How about Tanji?"
"No, she's at the shop with Thomas after school today. If we get her, he finds out. And I definitely don't want that to happen. We don't know how he's going to react to us taking Freoric into custody."
Eamon interrupted. 'Glad to hear you've got it all sorted. But can we take off now? Because Hamish will do his best to keep an eye out, but I know him, and knowing he's left three injured gnomes behind will keep him from being his most attentive. He'll want to get to them."
***
Avenall dismounted and rubbed Fein affectionately behind one ear, communicating to him to follow at a safe distance from above to keep from frightening the gruagachs. Avenall turned to join the others who were waiting at the edge of the woods. As they started down the path, the dragon went skyward.
Eamon led the way with James. Avenall walked beside his queen. "When we capture Freoric, where will you hold him?"
"I'll take him to the under-castle in Scotland. It's my understanding there are chambers entirely surrounded by rock which can only be accessed by an aurae with the powers of the aether. There are air vents, of course. Aisha will make sure he can't get out and hurt anyone prior to his trial."
"Good. An elvin assassin is seldom captured and even less often kept."
"Do you know Freoric?"
"No, I have only heard of him. But what I've heard would give a wise warrior cause to avoid him. He is well known for his skill in both battle and treachery."
"Good of the elves to send him as an ambassador."
"They could as well have sent a banshee. They wish only to cry death in the face of the humans. I apologize for my race. They have lost their honor, and I am ashamed."
Lizbet reached over and sq
ueezed his hand. Inside her, Morgan stirred to his touch and made Lizbet hold on to her old friend just a moment longer than she would have without her. "It's okay. Eamon says if I respond to them with strength, they'll bow to my position even if they don't want to bow to me."
"Perhaps. But I think the elves will never truly accept a human ruler of the fae. Instead, I see them joining the ungoverned ones—the Good Folk, the forest gnomes, the sons of Bacchus, and the other wild folk. But I think the elvin sense of their own superiority will chafe them if those are the people with whom they must break bread around the table."
"Okay. So, I have no idea who you're talking about—good folk, sons of Bacchus?"
"Do you not? Queen Morgan worked hard to keep the peace with them even though they had no interest in allegiance."
Lizbet was silent for a moment before she decided to tell him the truth. "I don't have her memories. Please don't spread that around, though. I'm okay with most of the fae thinking I do. I'm apparently scarier that way. But I only have the memories of the human Morgan Le Fae. And I don't think she knew anything about any wild folk."
"I am honored by your trust in me. The wild folk agreed as partners to Myrddin's truce. Your James should be able to draw on his memories to advise you. You must be prepared if the wild folk come out of the woods."
Eamon glanced back at them with a scowl and said in a low voice, "If you chatterboxes don't mind, I'd ask you to keep it down a bit. No point in alerting him now that we're nearly there."
Lizbet's eyes narrowed slightly in response, but she didn't ask Avenall any more questions. As usual, Eamon gave good advice despite his bossy tone.
In another hundred feet, they entered the clearing where the wide gray cylinder projected at least eighty feet into the air. When Avenall stopped at the edge of the clearing to wait for Fein, a wisp slid past his knees, continued on to slip between Lizbet and James, floated across the brown winter landscape and straight up the silo wall, then disappeared at the top as it dived inside.