Spears' Challenge (The White Dragon Series Book 2)

by Bonnie Watts

  “Thank you Cirwin. I couldn’t have said it better myself. He looks so much like a younger version of Sir Frederick, I guess we can’t be surprised he’s just as hardheaded.”

  “I just wish he was gay like Sir Frederick.”

  I look at Jeff with a smile. “Jealous, Consort?”

  “Hell yes. But not really. It’s that the man is so damned, um…”

  “European!” Dragon concludes with a growl.

  I sigh. “He is that. Europe is pretty backwards with regards to sexism, and it shows in his attitude. My sister Georgie would’ve torn him a new one if he had treated her like that.”

  Liam smiles at me. “You did a good spot of anal re-figuring yourself, my Lady. But you did it in such a way as to keep him working with you. Your sister would be proud of you, I think.”

  “I certainly hope so, Liam, though how she dealt with these Order people, I don’t know. I’ve only met three live ones, and only like one of them. All right, what’s next on the agenda?”

  -6-

  Two days later we got the word that the Berlin Order archivists were ready to receive Liam. Figuring that the brownie would leave as soon as the okay came in, I am surprised when I hear his voice involved in what sounds like a very loud argument with Cirwin. I put down the book I am reading and head down the long hallway towards the living room to see what’s going on.

  “I’ll no’ do it, ye pointy-eared overgrown sprite, and I don’t care how many titles you have, you hear me?”

  “Fy math lywodraethu chi am filoedd o flynyddoedd, gis. Byddwch yn ufuddhau i mi ac yn mount anifail hwn nawr!”

  “Mae ydych yn rheoli unrhyw un awr, corrach! Gwnaethoch ildio eich teitl ac rydym yn eu gisanaethu y Ddraig Gwyn, nid chi!”

  Oh-oh! I pick up speed. If they’d reverted to yelling at each other in Welsh, then magic would fly next. The two fey had had differences of opinion before this, mostly caused by the unconscious arrogance of the elf. The elvish courts treat brownies like slaves, and Liam and most of his people had chosen exile to Avalon over that life.

  Where is Jeff? He’d said something about searching out a document in the Council Archives, which is located a few houses away. Dragon is visiting the unseeley Ambassador. Damn it, a Welsh speaker would help right now.

  Tor, do you speak Welsh?

  Sorry, just French, German, Latin, and old English. They’re in a huff about something though. It sounds entertaining. I wish I did speak it!

  Voyeur!

  By the time I sprint into the room, my Houndmaster’s pale face is fiery crimson, and my head brownie’s swarthy complexion looks about the color of red Georgia clay. Lucifer stands there patiently wearing a contraption of leather straps and bags and eyes the two feys with humor in his eyes.

  “Knock it off you two! I can hear you from the library. What in the world is going on here? Liam, how come you haven’t left for Berlin yet?”

  “Because yon elf is trying to force me to ride Lucifer, and I will not do it! Brownies do not ride things, my Lady, t’is not right. Besides, he called me a servant!”

  “And you called me an overgrown sprite, brownie. In the seeley court, I could have you executed for that.”

  “Then go back to the court if you’re so fond of those laws, Lord Cirwin.” I tell him in a cold voice.

  His shock almost makes me smile. Almost. But I know if I let this attitude slide, it will start a precedent that will make the brownies into servants, and that I can’t tolerate.

  “But my Lady, you know I can’t go back there. And I don’t want to leave Avalon and your service.”

  “I don’t want you to leave me either, Cirwin. But this isn’t the seeley court. You are my Houndmaster, one of my Chief Advisors and my Grand Duke. You’re crucial to the White Dragon’s war effort. But Liam is your equal here. He’s also a Chief Advisor, and he’s my Head of Operations and Logistics. He isn’t anyone’s servant. Not mine, not yours, no one’s. The attitudes that hold true in the courts are over in Avalon. We don’t work that way here. I can’t even imagine how difficult it is after fifteen thousand years to change your ways of thinking. But you have to try.”

  He bows his head in acknowledgement. “I will do more than try, my Lady.” He looks down at the brownie. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep up with Lucifer, Liam. When we’ve been out with him testing the harness, I could barely keep up, since he’s so fast. Your mission is of such importance that I designed this rigging to keep you safe and in place during the trip. But if you object so much to riding, then perhaps we can come up with an alternative solution together? I apologize for reverting to the old ways and calling you a servant.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I called you a sprite then.”

  “What in the heck is a sprite?”

  Cirwin said, “Do you recall your human story of a boy that never grew up and lived in a magic land?”

  “Peter Pan? You mean Tinkerbell, that’s a sprite?”

  “That is a sprite.”

  I giggle, I just can’t help it. “Definitely overgrown, about five or six more feet with no wings and a lot better looking. You would have taken out Captain Hook in a heartbeat!”

  “My Lady, please!” From the tone of his voice, I can tell I pleased him by thinking he would take out the famous bad guy that fast.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t resist teasing a little. Have the two of you thought about Lucifer pulling some type of cart? The Rottweilers of old Germany used to pull carts in the mountains. Or a side car, like a motorcycle has. For now, though, there’s no time to get fancy. You said the straps were tested?”

  “My assistants and I tested them several times. As long as you are touching the straps, Lucifer can bring you through the dimensions with him.”

  “Then Lucifer will just have to go slow enough not to lose Liam.”

  The brownie straightens his shoulders, a look of resignation coming on his face.

  “No. I’ll ride, my Lady. Once Lord Cirwin explained his concerns, I can see he’s right. My legs are too short and will slow Lucifer down. I’ll have those important drawings to protect on the way back, too. I can’t leave them to blow away or the pack they’re in to fall off.”

  “If you’re sure? I don’t want you to do anything that’s against your brownie code or something like that.”

  That earned me smiles of tolerant patience from both men that looked alike even on such different faces. Men are still men no matter what species they come from.

  “Ach, no, there’s no rule against it, my Lady. We don’t like to be stuck higher than we can walk!”

  Liam disappears and reappears on Lucifer’s back. Cirwin kneels down and respectfully shows the brownie how to buckle himself in and out again, then he is off to the archives in Berlin.

  The elf stands up and looks down at me. “I apologize for handling that so poorly.”

  “Actually it is good it came up like it did. You’re in charge of the elves that’ve come here from the seeley court. I need you to be the one to let them know that fey rank will be different here than back home in the courts. As things heat up, more people will join us. I want you to handle the elven kind from both courts, all right?”

  “As you wish.”

  “Oh, and the sprites too!”

  “My Lady!”

  I head back to the library until I hear the front doorbell ring behind me. I’m just going to let someone else get it, but decide to backtrack and do it myself.

  I start opening the door when my two terriers come practically flying into the room and jump up at me, knocking me flat. Dogs who weigh about ten pounds each metamorphose into hounds the size of Mastiffs, except with pointy ears and red eyes. Yes, I said red eyes. They use my stomach as a springboard, ouch! and fly at the hobgoblin on the porch, whose hands have a fire spell ready to fly at where my face would have been if I was still standing!

  I slam a battle shield around me and the dogs, just in time. Our attacker lets off the fireball, which bounces off my dogs’ s
hields and scorches the lavender bush next to the door. He pulls out his club and attacks my guard dogs, trying to get through them to me. His skin is dragon-tough, and Beauty and Courage aren’t having much luck doing more than minimal damage, despite their altered sizes. Unfortunately, I can tell the shield isn’t going to hold for long against the punishing force the guy is inflicting. Some resistance he’s giving off is eroding the magic, and I’m forced to pump more energy into the shield just to maintain it.

  I pull Tor from the harness at my back even though I have no idea how to use a sword.

  Let me take control of your body, Jerrie.

  How?

  Just relax.

  I let myself go limp and feel it when Tor takes over my body. He lifts my arm holding the sword and starts it moving towards the hobgoblin.

  “Beauty, Courage, get Cirwin and Jeff now!” Dragon is visiting the unseeley ambassador, and is too far away to help, just like Lucifer in Berlin.

  I feel my body move with the sword and hear singing in my mind. If I try to focus on doing magic other than maintaining our shields, it will kick Tor out of my body. Besides, who knows what will work on my resistant assailant? My shield is wavering but still holding under the pounding. This seven-foot tall person hits with the power of a jackhammer, and when I/Tor don’t back away fast enough, I feel two ribs break even through what’s left of my shield. The pain in my side registers only minimally because of the adrenalin pumping through me. I can’t even heal it or risk losing Tor’s fighting expertise.

  “Arrroooooooo!”

  Lucifer appears out of nowhere, running towards my assailant from the right side as Cirwin comes in from behind me with a big-assed shiny broadsword.

  The hobgoblin is huge, at least 300 to 400 pounds easily. But Lucifer has momentum going for him, and the Hellhound, leather straps and all, knocks the big creature off balance. That gives Cirwin time to push me behind him, letting the elf warrior continue the physical fight with Lucifer. This allows me time to heal my ribs and conjure a stasis spell to catch the assassin with. I put extra magic into it to make up for his resistance, then send it out. When it catches him, I notice something about my attacker’s mind.

  “Lucifer, Cirwin, I’ve got him caught, don’t kill him! Something’s got his mind under control. He’s not responsible for what he’s doing.”

  I wait until I am sure they have calmed down and backed off, then I approach the hobgoblin.

  “My Lady, be careful, his kind is notoriously resistant to magic.”

  “What’s going on?” Jeff runs up from the town library, a now small again Courage trotting along beside him.

  “I think he’s one of the guardians. Someone’s put a strong spell of control on him, and he tried to kill me and almost succeeded! If it weren’t for Beauty and Courage, I’d be dead. I’m going to try to break the spell on his mind.”

  I send my mind healing magic into his mind with a gentle probe, just barely touching his psyche. There is a black sludgy cage that traps his poor mind inside of it like a frightened bird. Reaching with a tiny tendril, I slip between the murky bands into the cage holding my patient’s mind. I send a quiet “I’m here.” to the frightened mind to calm it. I use that thread of healing magic as a conduit along which I send the Knight Protector magic to form a shield to protect the fragile mind. For I can see that destroying the dark magic that binds him will be a battle. It is powerful, is this evil spell. I’ve never seen magic as strong before except in Dragon, who is unique.

  Once the patient’s mind is shielded, I send my physical healing magic and my offensive magic in and shred the dark cage, tearing it to pieces and healing any damage to my patient while doing so.

  By the time I’m finished, sweat is pouring down my face and I’m almost drained of most of my magic. It had taken an incredibly powerful dark practitioner to capture this man’s mind. Cirwin is correct, the hobgoblin is very resistant to my magic.

  “It’s done. He’s free of the taint.”

  Jeff helps me up and for the first time I notice that Cuchulainn is here.

  “Good, they called you. Is he one of yours?”

  “Yes, his name is Torc. He’s been with me for a century or so. Good fighter. Hot tempered, but not too bad for his species. Is it more of Morgana’s lackeys?”

  “No regular witch could have done that control spell, he’s too resistant to magic.”

  Lucifer, Tor, did either of you recognize the feel of the magic from my mind?

  I did, Jerrie.

  Lucifer too.

  Who did it?

  It is demon magic. I’d say one of the strongest demons in their hierarchy to put that powerful a compulsion on a hobgoblin. They’re notoriously resistant to most magic.

  I look at Lainn. “Tor says it was a demon who put the spell on him. He thinks it’s a demon in the top hierarchy, to overcome the hobgoblins’ natural magic immunity. Did he leave Avalon any time over the last week?”

  “Aye. Three days ago he got word that his relatives in the unseeley mound needed him for something. I don’t know the particulars, I just approved the leave.”

  “That must be where the compulsion was set. He’ll wake up in a few hours with maybe a headache, but I shielded his mind with a battle shield before I took on the spell. It was set to kill him if anyone tampered with it.”

  Jeff growls at Lainn, “We need to look into this further. This guy almost killed the White Dragon. Do you realize what would happen if whatever crisis is coming hits without a White Dragon?”

  “Peace, Consort. I get the seriousness of the situation. Not to mention that all my hobgoblin guards are pissed off and now insist on taking White Dragon guard duties.” He smiles a little. “Led by Roc, of course.”

  Roc is a fan of my old media role as the Ghostbuster Spears Witch.

  Lainn’s smile disappears and the scary ancient Irish warrior king appears in his blue eyes. “They’ll start door duty today, lassie. That this was done to one of mine and he attacked you on my turf, well, I want to be at that meeting with the demon council, lassie.”

  “I’ll make sure you and Roc both get an invitation, if that’s okay with you. Also, can I get you to assign him as liaison between the White dragon and the hobgoblin community? This is a direct attack on them, and I don’t know enough about their physiology to be a competent healer if I’m needed.”

  “You were pretty damned competent here with Torc, Jerrie.”

  “That wasn’t healing, Jeff, it was deactivating a death spell. That is White Dragon work. I need to know more about Torc’s people so I can understand how to work around the magic resistance to heal them.”

  “That makes sense. Losing the hobgoblins will put me in a bind for Avalon patrols though.”

  “The su sith can take up the slack, Lord Cuchulainn.” Offers Cirwin. “I can take what guardians you feel are suitable and train them in a few days to partner with the hounds. Then you won’t need to send out your people in pairs where there are hounds as partners.”

  “The human police call them the Canine Corps. Why don’t we ask Maggie and her brownies to make special uniforms or shirts or something and utility vests for the dogs of the same material for the su sith?”

  Cirwin looks at me. “Enemies can use the vests against them in a fight, my Lady. These are protection and hunting hounds, not parade beasts that fit in women’s handbags.”

  I look right back at him. “Those two Queen’s parade beasts that fit in handbags just saved the White Dragon’s life, Cirwin. Of course, they turned into hundred-pound demon dogs to do it.”

  We all look at the two rather smug and tiny terriers, who return our gazes with bright brown eyes and canine grins.

  Cirwin breaks out in a grin of his own. “Magic Terriers indeed! And I always thought she called them that out of hubris.”

  “Nope. They really are magic. About the vests, for both sentient and canine cops, I suggest that Miss Aggie and I work on spelling them so that in a fight, they’ll trigger b
attle shields to protect the wearers. Things are starting to get serious. Two attempts on my life in three days tells me we need to put out the call. The White Dragon is going to build herself an army, beginning with Avalon’s Canine Corps.”

  “Consort, can you please set up a meeting for us with both courts’ Ambassadors, and with the Demon Council? Don’t let the demons avoid you. If I have to go to Hell myself with Lucifer to get those assholes’ attention, I will.”

  “No Jerrie! It’s too dangerous.”

  “Arrroooooo!” Apparently Lucifer agrees with that sentiment.

  “Then get them to the table for me. Avalon and all of its citizens are under the White Dragon’s protection, and they just violated that protection by setting a control and death spell in the mind of one of my guardians. Those demons have obviously never learned not to tweak a dragon’s tail. I intend to teach them some manners. Jeff, I’ve changed my mind. Don’t request to meet with the Council. Request to meet with Lucifer himself. If the King of Hell is behind this, then we might as well go right to the source.”

  “He might not meet with you, my Lady. He is the demon of pride, after all.”

  “We’ll word the message such that we’ll prick that pride if he doesn’t come, then he’ll show.” Jeff answers Cirwin in my stead, his eyes glinting in pleased challenge as my brilliant wordsmith thinks about what he will say in the email.

  “One more thing. Cirwin, is there any of the su sith that you can assign to stay with Lainn? Sooner or later some evil numbskull will figure out they can weaken Avalon’s and my security by taking out its head. I’d feel better knowing one of your hounds will be with him to watch his back. One thing we don’t need is Lainn’s daddy pissed off at Avalon for letting someone kill his favorite demigod son.”

  “Lassie, I can take care of myself, I don’t need…” Lainn splutters at me, his fair face darkening.

  I wink at him and he quiets down, waiting to see what I’m up to.

  Jeff takes up the argument. “She’s right, Lainn, if you ignore her teasing. You are almost as high a target as the rest of us, but a hell of a lot easier to get to than we are. The Dagda can destroy Avalon if he is grieving for you before finding out that someone else killed you. But having a hound at your side means one less worry when things heat up.”