The Diamond Sphinx (The Lost Ancients Book 6)

by Marie Andreas

  “So there are a lot of elves just roaming around now?” Amara still looked frail, but she was looking less fragile than when we first came in. She was watching our elven companions closely. Jovan and Glorinal had also been elves, and they had almost killed all of us.

  “Yes, and we keep finding more. But these are good ones; the ones who fought Jovan and Glorinal.” I gave Amara a brief rundown of what had been happening outside of Beccia.

  She calmed down a bit. “You knew this mayor? What town was it? Kenithworth?”

  I took a long sip of my ale first. “Yes. He’d hired us to work for him on a dig site. But he already knew about our ruins here, and me. I think he’s after the same relics that we are.”

  “We have to focus in two directions,” Alric said. “I can go where Foxy and the resistance were last seen. Is it inside your hedge?” At Amara’s glum nod he continued. “The rest of you try and figure out why the mayor was so focused on Beccia.”

  “Agreed. None of the scrolls indicate the diamond sphinx is within a hundred miles of here. And the basilisk was never rumored to be here either, nor the manticore.” Lorcan helped himself to some tea after sneaking his ale to the faeries.

  “Could he have come here for something else?” I looked around at my friends. I had feared that he’d traveled to Beccia to find leverage against me. When I’d run into him, we’d only found the first two relics. That the third, the emerald dragon, had been found on his dig site probably didn’t sit well with him. That it had come with Alric and me, along with a group of heavily armed elven knights, most likely made him exceptionally pissed.

  “We never knew, beyond him wanting full access to dig.” Amara tilted her head. “But he didn’t want to dig in the ruins, at least not the established ones. He wanted to go deeper into the forest. Out by the wild ruins.”

  I shared a look with Alric. Jovan had set up a staging area out that way, but as far as I knew he’d never done any digging. “There might be something else out there as well.”

  Padraig looked concerned. “As Lorcan said, there shouldn’t be any relics near here. Not anymore.” He turned to me. “Since you’ve been gone, Lorcan and I have narrowed down the location of the diamond sphinx.”

  I looked to the few regulars still in the bar. Amara wouldn’t say anything, and I knew Dogmaela wouldn’t. But I had no idea who the rest were. Even if they had no clue as to what the relics were, the word ‘diamond’ would catch a person’s ear.

  Padraig smiled and snapped his fingers. A slight glow briefly flared into existence over the four drinking shapes, then faded back into hiding. “I spelled them when we came in. They can’t hear anything. They’ll be happy to sit and drink until I release them.”

  “Can you teach me that spell?” I ignored Alric scowling out of the corner of my eye. He was my official magic teacher, but I wasn’t sure how it was going to work now that we were together. Besides, he’d never even told me such a spell existed. There were times that could have been damn handy.

  “It’s a difficult spell, but I’m sure we can work on it after the current crisis is over.” His smile was gorgeous. Padraig was over a thousand years old, one of the elves from before the Breaking. He’d been attacked right before the war began and was put into a magical coma to heal for about five hundred years. In the last year he’d lost his wife and two close friends when Nivinal, disguised as Alric, attacked his research location. Padraig had been seriously injured. The entire side of his face was burnt badly.

  He used a glamour to hide it, but one of my weird new abilities appeared to be seeing through glamours. Nevertheless, his face looked whole and unblemished right now.

  I glanced toward Amara but she was sipping her tea and ignoring the mountain of food Dogmaela was piling next to her. I leaned in closer to Lorcan and dropped my voice.

  “I can’t see through Padraig’s glamour.”

  Lorcan peered closely at his friend’s face. “It’s not there anymore.”

  Padraig shook his head and raised his hand to his cheek. He pulled it back as if it hurt, then cautiously put it back. “It’s healed?”

  Mathilda had been watching him carefully. “I’m sure you don’t recall me, Padraig, I was an infrequent visitor to the palace. But I am Mathilda. You saved me from a rampaging garlon beast a long time ago. I never forgot, even though I didn’t have a chance to thank you at the time. I can’t bring your loved ones back, but I can remove the marks on your skin and the physical pain. I could sense that my sister had tried but wasn’t able to remove them so I thought to assist. However, I should have asked before I cast the spell—I do apologize.”

  All of us probably had the same look—shock. The best mages in the enclave had tried to heal him and couldn’t. Yet, Mathilda had done it without anyone—even Padraig—being aware.

  Padraig had a look of awe as he rubbed his face. His long black hair was now on both sides of his head. Alric was insanely good looking, even taking into consideration my bias, but Padraig was like an elven prince of old. A stunned prince.

  Mathilda frowned and dropped her voice. “Unless you wanted to keep them?”

  I knew where she was going. His scars were a reminder of who he lost. He might feel he needed to keep them.

  He was silent for a moment and closed his eyes. Then he smiled and opened them. “My wife would say I was foolish to turn down such a gracious offer. And I always listened to her. Healing this will not make me forget her, or the others. I appreciate it. And I do recall you. Siabiane’s older and feistier sister. Well met, Mathilda, and thank you.”

  “Now back to our problem,” Covey said. “Foxy has been kidnapped and the mayor of Kenithworth is trying to take over a small digger town. Yet you say none of the relics are here. Why is he here?” She was up on her feet and I could see her slipping into lecturer mode. Before this adventure began Covey had been an elven researcher at the University. The pacing and the fierce challenge in her face showed what she’d been like. She turned to Amara. “You say you know he was taken and not killed?”

  Amara slowly nodded. “I can’t explain how, but when my tree and I sent forth the hedge to surround us, I felt him. He is alive and within my plant ring.”

  “Which means that some of the enemy are still here as well,” Alric said.

  “Or they left him trapped somewhere,” Padraig added. “How far is this hedge of yours, Amara?”

  “It would be easier to show you.” She got up and went to the space behind the bar. She came out with an old, and very beat up, map of Beccia. “This area is how far.” She took a stick, dipped it in charcoal and drew.

  Covey let out a whistle. “That is extremely impressive. You’ve even included some of the ruins.”

  Lorcan was silent, but he was watching Amara, not the map. “I am not trying to be rude, but how are you doing this? I felt the power of your tree when we came in. But by Taryn’s reckoning, that tree is barely a year old. It looks like it’s thousands of years old and the amount of power to do what you two have done is unheard of.” He peered closely at Amara but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You’re not just a dryad, are you?” There was a deep sadness in his voice.

  “I am a dryad. That is my tree. Foxy is my mate and I will do anything to save him.” She’d kept her head down but looked up defiantly at the last bit. She had tears in her eyes. Green tears.

  The only two who seemed to have a clue were Lorcan and Amara. Then Mathilda gasped and nodded.

  “The last tree goddess?” Her words meant nothing to me, but did to pretty much everyone else. Even Covey rocked back on her heels.

  “Someone fill me in? There are tree goddesses?” I wasn’t a religious person, but I would have thought I’d have heard of a tree goddess pantheon.

  “There were.” Mathilda came up and enveloped Amara in a hug. “They died out when the Ancients were lost. But one survived, didn’t she?” She was crooning soothing words and Amara started shaking with her sobs.

  Amara finally pulled back and wipe
d her face. “I was known as Amariathia. I was the youngest, and the last made when the world was new. My sisters…they died when the Ancients were destroyed. I didn’t know what happened for weeks. I had no one. Jovan found me and made me his slave for centuries. I am alone except for Foxy.”

  Chapter Nine

  She was so sad, broken, and dejected standing there, it was hard to believe we were in the presence of an actual goddess.

  “Could anyone else have known who you were? Jovan wasn’t working alone.” An ugly thought started crawling around my head.

  “No one.” But she shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know. Jovan kept me mostly drugged. He stopped the drugs when he sent me here. Do you think that was why they took Foxy?”

  “We know the mayor was here for something. I only met him once, but he might have had many agendas. If he had any information that there was a deity in town he might have added her to his list.” I wouldn’t put it past him.

  Covey nodded. “I’d say he didn’t know it was her for certain, at least not until he grabbed Foxy and the hedge appeared.”

  “I caused this? Because of what I am, Foxy was taken?” A new round of tears slid down Amara’s face.

  “No, child,” Lorcan said. “The people we’re fighting are the ones to blame, not you. And you are not alone. Between all of us, you have a group of staunch defenders.”

  Dogmaela had been standing back, but stepped forward. “No one hurt you or Foxy. You are family.” The way she was clenching and unclenching her massive fists, I was really hoping I got to be around when she found the mayor.

  I had no idea how someone should address a goddess. I also had way too many questions, but figured now wasn’t the time. Since my friends seemed to be aware of the tree goddesses, I could just bug one of them about it later. Amara looked like she just wanted things to go back as they were. Something I could totally get behind.

  “Lots of words.” Garbage flew over to our table. She was only a little wobbly; given how long they’d been in here with their own ales; I was a little surprised she could fly. “What do now? We fight?”

  Ah, that would explain a bit. The faeries loved their ale, but Garbage loved fighting better. Since we’d fled the Spheres, she hadn’t had anything to fight.

  Leaf and Crusty both ran across the floor, looping around each other as they went.

  “No fighting yet, we’re trying to figure things out.” I bent down and helped Leaf and Crusty up to the top of the table. At the rate they were sliding back down as they tried to climb the leg of the table, we’d be waiting forever. Both of them stumbled to Amara.

  “Knew you tree lady.” Crusty planted a slobbery kiss on Amara’s arm and Leaf just looked up adoringly.

  “You three knew she was a tree goddess?” I’d figured they’d always called her a tree lady because she was a dryad.

  “Is yes. Nice tree lady.” Leaf flopped down on the tabletop.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I directed the question to Garbage. She still wanted a fight, but at least she was closer to sober than the other two.

  “You no ask,” Garbage said as if that was a stupid question. “We fight? Things bad, we get fight.”

  “We will need to fight, little one, we all will,” Lorcan said. “But first we have to plan. That being said, maybe you should call in the rest of your faeries?”

  Being on my own for a month had rattled me more than I thought; I’d not even noticed that the other twenty tamed faeries were missing.

  Covey must have seen it on my face. “They left us after conveying your message, or rather a gross misinterpretation of your message. I figured they’d gone to find your faeries. They weren’t clear about them being with you either.”

  Garbage was spoiling for a fight, so since nothing else was around now, she’d chew out her faery lieutenants. “I fix.” The look on her tiny orange face was grim as she rose in the air. She was out a tiny hole in the wooden boards covering the windows before we could stop her.

  “That might not have been the best idea if there are enemies and spies in town. She’s too noticeable.” I didn’t want to compound things by going out after her, but I wasn’t happy.

  “We get!” Crusty shouted from her now prone position on the table. Next to an equally prone Leaf. At least I didn’t have to worry about those two going out.

  Alric shook his head and went back to looking at Amara’s map. “There’s nothing we can do about her now; she is tiny, so hopefully no one will notice.”

  “But how will they get in past the hedge?” Amara finally stopped crying. “I can’t open it again for a while. That took too much out of my tree and me.”

  As if they’d been listening to Amara, the faeries’ cats rose from the fire and jogged to the back door.

  “I think they have a plan, or they needed to go to the bathroom at the same time.” Mathilda rose from her chair, went to the back door, and opened it. “The hedge let the cats pass without your assistance, correct?”

  Amara nodded. “It’s designed to let animals go through unmolested. But while three faeries on three cats weren’t noticeable, I’m afraid the spell will trigger if they try to get more faeries on each cat. Or if they go back and forth multiple times.”

  Mathilda’s laugh cut her off. “I think the faeries have that covered as well. Garbage was always the mastermind of the three.”

  It was hard to see from inside the pub, but it appeared that a fleet of cats was running down the back alley. Heading toward the hedge.

  “Who knew cat racing would come in handy some day?” I shook my head at the inventiveness of the faeries.

  “We did!” Leaf was flat on her back but was waving both hands in the air. “Kittahs good!”

  Mathilda shut the door and we went back to planning. Leaf and Crusty just stayed on the table giggling to themselves.

  Amara was pointing out on the map the area Foxy and the other missing resistance fighters had been when they vanished. It was on the far end of her hedged-in zone. And while I wouldn’t know until I saw it, the area looked close to the ruins where Jovan had set up shop.

  “What was there in the past?” I asked any of the attending elves. Alric had never reacted much to that area, but we’d been fighting for our lives at the time we’d gone through it.

  Lorcan tipped his head and started measuring out space. “That is a good question. It’s hard to tell now, even for me. But there were no proper buildings out that way. The woods there are dark and the trees fierce. It was never worth it to build.”

  “And no one digs there for those same reasons.” I looked around the room. “Could it be spelled? Something left over from the Ancients?” I knew it could just be a really bad location, but it seemed like people went out of their way to avoid it. Over the past year and a half, I’d learned to question everything. Preferably before it bit me in the behind.

  Alric frowned. “I never sensed anything.” He rubbed his arm. “But we can’t ignore that there may be something there.”

  Amara started to say something, then screamed in pain and tumbled to the ground. A loud booming sound came from outside. Everyone else was around Amara, so I ran to the least boarded window and shoved aside the curtains.

  I could just see the hedge down the road, a tiny bit, no more than a sliver. It vanished for a split second, and then slammed back into reality. In perfect time with another scream from Amara.

  “Something is happening to the hedge!” I yelled back to the others.

  “No. My. Tree.” Amara got out as another scream burst forth.

  Alric beat Padraig and me out the back door. Sure enough, the tree was under attack. By an army of tiny, sword-wielding squirrels.

  Damn it. Our only faeries were too drunk to stand, and I had no idea how long it would take Garbage and the others to get through—especially if the hedge was twitching in and out of reality. A year ago the faeries had an ongoing battle with a clan of possessed squirrels. The squirrels had vanished after the battle for th
e glass gargoyle. Or so we’d thought. Judging by the hundred plus that were swarming the tree; they’d either been hiding this entire time, or been recruited back. And they brought friends.

  Alric, Padraig, and I ran to the tree. They both had their swords, but mine had failed to appear. I did have a nice dagger though.

  Fighting so many opponents who were much smaller than you—and, judging by their red eyes, possessed besides—wasn’t easy. Most of them were now focusing on us instead of Amara’s tree, but that wouldn’t last for long.

  We were holding them off the tree, but all of us were showing fatigue, even though it had been just a few minutes. Something else was affecting us. Because I had a dagger instead of a sword, I had to be much closer to the creatures than the other two. One squirrel got a slice in. It was weird fighting rodents armed with actual steel, but in this case I was grateful. The scratch hurt, but I’d hate to think what those teeth or claws would do. I bashed the offending squirrel away from me and the tree with the flat of my dagger.

  Neither Alric nor Padraig were doing magic. At first I thought it was because they were confident of their fighting, but then I noticed them both slowing down. Not only were the squirrels possessed and armed—they were magic carriers. Not magic users, but someone had placed tiny chains with magic-dampening crystals on about a third of the squirrels. Damn it. If cats could go back and forth through the hedge, then insane attack squirrels could as well. Our enemies had sent them through to bring down the hedge.

  “They’re magicked.”

  “I know. We can’t keep fighting.”

  Padraig’s comment was cut off as a wave of noise came funneling down the alley. The sound was a massive onslaught of faeries, far more than the group of twenty we’d been expecting. They were all riding cats. Some were in war feathers, some in leaves, and some in overalls. Each one had a war blade, and none of them appeared happy to see the squirrels.

  Judging by the insane screeching coming from the squirrels, the feeling was mutual.