Tesmarie zipped over and sat down on his shoulder. He felt the soft hint of her hair upon his skin as she leaned against him.
“You’re a good person, Tommy. I’d take a world full of people like you over anyone else, human or dragon-sired. Try not to beat yourself up thinking of a solution. Some problems don’t have one.”
“Every problem has a solution,” Tommy said. “Just sometimes they’re not ones we like.”
Tommy stared at the fire. A thousand ideas bounced around inside his skull as he tried to find an outcome to their current predicament that didn’t end with bloodshed.
“Do you think it’d help if you go talk to the lapinkin instead?” he asked Tesmarie.
“I thought it would when I agreed to come with you,” she said. “Now, though? They seemed awfully angry. I don’t think they’d be more open to talking with me on your behalf. I think they’d view me as…”
Her voice drifted away.
“As what?” Tommy prodded.
Tesmarie’s wings hummed to life, and she lifted a few inches off his shoulder.
“As a traitor,” she said softly.
The remark left Tommy feeling sick and stupid. Of course they’d view her as a traitor. Why didn’t he see that before? The whole trip he’d hoped she could show the lapinkin that they were perfectly fine people. Goddesses above, why did he have to be so naïve?
“I’m sorry,” he told the faery. “I should have thought of that before inviting you to come with me.”
“Don’t make yourself feel worse than you do. I did think of it. I just hoped it’d be… better.” Tesmarie let out a dramatic sigh. “No wonder the dragons and Goddesses struggled so much to fill our world with life and love. Everything gets so complicated.”
She suddenly startled, and before he could ask about what, she dove back into his robe pocket.
“There you are,” Jarel said, his voice disturbing the peaceful quiet. “We’ve reached a decision, and you weren’t there for it.”
Tommy spun in his seat to face the highborn dullard.
“What decision is that?” he asked.
“You’re supposed to be our lapinkin expert,” Jarel said, completely ignoring his question. “Well, you’ve met them now. Does anything match up? Do they have any abilities my soldiers should worry about?”
“Their overall physique resembles the stories,” Tommy said, frowning. “Though they’re a bit leaner and more muscular than usually described. As for powers… they’re giant rabbits. I guess they might jump really high? That might pose a threat to your men.”
Jarel’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re not mocking me, are you, Tomas?”
“No, no, of course not. I really do mean that, every story insists they are incredible leapers. I’m not a soldier, so I can’t imagine how that might affect a battle, but it seemed prudent to mention it nonetheless.”
“What about their eyesight? Can they see well in the dark?”
Tommy didn’t like where this line of questioning was leading.
“I can only make guesses,” he said. “Rabbits see best in dim light, dawn and dusk, mostly. They’ll see better than human eyes at night, but not significantly. Why do you ask?”
Jarel motioned for Tommy to rise from his seat and follow.
“Because we’re mobilizing tonight,” he said. “And the only surprise I want is our attack on their castle.”
CHAPTER 5
You’ve got to stop this,” Tesmarie whispered into Tommy’s ear as they marched toward the lapinkins’ castle. “It feels so wrong.”
Tommy hardly disagreed, but what could he do to stop thirty soldiers hurrying across the flatlands beside him?
“I can’t,” he said, careful to keep his voice down so the clatter of armor and footsteps drowned it out. Jarel walked beside him, and the last thing he wanted was the man in charge to think he had taken up a habit of chatting with himself.
“You have your magic,” the faery insisted.
“Magic they don’t know about. What do you think will happen if I attack the Royal Overseer’s men with spells?”
Honestly he didn’t know the answer, either, but it was a good question, and a major reason he grumpily marched along. He and Malik had kept their magical abilities a secret, and often discussed the best way to introduce their abilities to the world. Generally they agreed it would be in a lengthy, detailed demonstration with fellow members of the Wise in the organization’s First Tower all the way east in Steeth. Revealing them with a potentially treasonous demonstration in the middle of nowhere was not exactly part of the plan.
“If you don’t stop them, then I think I might,” Tesmarie huffed.
“Please don’t,” Tommy said, struggling to keep the panic out of his voice.
“What’s that?” Jarel asked.
The faery zipped into Tommy’s pocket so fast, his eyes could not follow.
“Nothing, nothing,” he said. “Just… thinking to myself, hoping the lapinkin don’t fight back.”
Jarel grunted.
“Let them. Like it will matter. We outnumber them, we’re better trained and better equipped. Lyra’s tits, they don’t even have doors on their mansion. This will be a breeze.”
They were almost to the mansion. The villagers insisted the lapinkin slept inside, and come night, it would be completely dark and silent. From what they could see in the starlight, there were no patrols or guards posted, either. Jarel clearly thought it meant incompetence or foolishness on their part. Tommy’s nervous stomach insisted otherwise.
“There’s still time to barter,” he said, only for Jarel to ignore him. The arrogant oaf drew the slender sword from his waist. Jarel would not participate in the fighting, instead command from the back, but he seemed to like wielding it anyway. Perhaps it let him pretend to participate as others risked their lives.
“Kill them where they sleep,” he shouted to the rest. The mansion was barely two hundred feet away. The likelihood of them crossing such a close distance stealthily in their armor was nil. Jarel pushed for shock and speed instead. “Go, go, let us go hunting rabbits!”
Tommy felt tiny feet kick his chest.
“Let me kill him,” Tesmarie huffed. “Please let me kill him.”
He patted his pocket, hoping that might keep her calm, and watched the soldiers race toward the mansion. They rushed the wide front door… and then slammed to a halt as a torrent of wind blasted against them, as if the door were the mouth of an exhaling giant. The soldiers raised their arms and pushed, but they could gain no headway. After a long few seconds, the wind halted, and out stepped Naiser, accompanied by four of his windleapers armed with spears.
“Such is the honor of humans,” Naiser shouted. “I expected better. We always do. And as always, you disappoint.”
“I don’t give a shit about his blustering,” Jarel yelled to his men. “Kill him and be done with it.”
The lapinkin tensed their legs and curled their backs.
“Come try,” said Naiser.
The soldiers charged. Air gathered at the lapinkins’ feet, flattening the grass, and then they leapt. A sound like thunder marked their launch. Their bodies soared into the air, above the soldiers, above the mansion, seemingly to the sky itself. The humans collectively stared up at them with dumbfounded looks. They raised their shields and prepared for the inevitable fall, only the lapinkin did not fall.
The windleapers hovered, small clouds swirling underneath their feet.
“We told you to leave,” Naiser shouted, and his deep voice rumbled like the angry voice of a storm. “This death is on your own heads.”
Another thunderous boom. The lapinkin streaked downward like comets, their spears leading the way. This was no fall. This was a charge. They slammed into the heart of the soldiers’ formation, their spears puncturing armor like cloth to continue into the earth itself. Tommy’s eyes widened as he realized the reason for the strange plow-shaped hook on their spears. It dug into the ground as the
lapinkin dragged their victims, carving shallow grooves into the earth to halt the momentum of their dive.
For one long moment the soldiers stared at their foes in shocked horror, and then they charged, fueled with rage for the dead and fear for their own lives. The lapinkin waved their hands, gusts of wind shoving the soldiers back like leaves in a breeze. Space regained, the five leapt back into the air. Tommy’s ears ached from the concussive noise.
“Sisters help us, we have to flee,” he shouted to Jarel. “We can’t fight them, can’t you see that?”
The spoiled brat of a noble offered no words, only watched as the lapinkin crossed from the sky to the ground in a flash, their spears like plows carving a home for seeds, and the soldiers’ blood like water that would nurture them. In only moments a third of the soldiers were dead, and they were yet to swing a sword. Soldiers rushed them again, fighting against new surges of wind. This time the windleapers ripped their spears free and twirled them above their heads. Perhaps they didn’t have the strength to leap again. Perhaps they felt like fighting fair. Tommy didn’t know. He only knew the human soldiers had no chance.
Precise, controlled movements batted aside their swords. The bloodied points of spears found openings in their armor, sliding past shields into armpits and stomachs. A whirlwind swirled through them, as if the wind were their ally guarding their flanks. Soldiers died, and at last their courage broke. Only fifteen soldiers remained, and they fled back toward Jarel, who had finally regained his senses.
“Flee!” he screamed, his order thoroughly unnecessary. “Flee these horrid monsters!”
The lapinkin, however, did not appear willing to let them escape. They blasted into the air, hovered momentarily as they adjusted the aim of their spears, and then crashed down with an eruption of earth and steel. Tommy watched with his mouth hanging open as Naiser landed atop a soldier, his spear piercing right through his chest and out the other side in an explosion of gore. The spear hit ground and then dragged the both of them for over thirty feet, coming to a halt not far from where Tommy stood frozen in place. Despite his own plea to flee, he could not seem to make his legs work.
A sharp tugging on his ear snapped him from his paralysis. It was Tesmarie pulling with both hands.
“Go, go, go, go-go-go-go,” she cried.
Tommy looked to the soldiers, and to the windleapers soaring skyward for another attack. There was no chance they’d escape, not without his help. He had to do something, but to kill the lapinkin? Could he? Should he?
It’s that or die, he told himself, and even then he wanted to argue. His hands spread wide to either side of him, and his mind raced through the many spells he’d memorized. One chance. The lapinkin were about to descend.
“Aethos glaeis surmu.”
Frost spread like a fog from his fingertips, settling in a long line enveloping all the soldiers as well as himself in its center. A wall of ice rose from the frost’s circle, its top curling inward to form a dome. It had barely completed when the five windleapers struck. Ice cracked, but it did not break. Windleapers slid across the top, spears carving a spiderweb of cracks along every side.
“To-To-Tomas?” Jarel stammered, his eyes so wide, they looked ready to fall out. Tommy ignored him. There wasn’t any time to explain how he did what he did.
“Can you get us out of here?” he asked Tesmarie.
“I could help speed up your run,” the faery said. “I’m not sure what else I could do. Will they break through your ice?”
Storm winds rocked the sides of the ice dome in answer. Three windleapers stood with their hands extended, guiding the air into vicious, focused gusts. The cracks in the ice thickened.
“I’ve got to dismiss the ice, or it’ll collapse on top of us,” he said. “Can you convince them to spare us?”
Tesmarie clutched her arms to her chest.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think they’ll care.”
“Very well. We’ll go with my plan. Hide in my pocket. I don’t want the lapinkin to know you’re here.”
She reluctantly obeyed. Tommy closed his eyes, and with but a thought he banished the ice into nothingness. Wind ripped through their huddled formation from all directions, then halted. The three windleapers closed in, murder in their eyes and blood on their spears.
“Aethos creare fulgur,” Tommy said, but he did not release the power. Fire swirled around his fingers, and a great stream of smoke rose from his palms, which he kept aimed firmly at the ground. He had to keep it at the ready. He needed the lapinkin to understand he could fulfill his promised threat. Hopefully that was soon, because it felt like trying to hold back the charge of a bull.
The windleapers readied for a jump, and though they were outnumbered five to one, not a soul in that field thought the humans had a chance.
“Mercy!” Tommy screamed. “Mercy, or I burn this whole damn field to the ground, and all of us with it!”
The remaining three windleapers hesitated. Naiser aimed the tip of his spear directly at Tommy’s head.
“One throw, and I remove your head from your shoulders,” he said. “Do you think you can finish your spell before I do?”
Sweat rolled down Tommy’s neck in rivers.
“You don’t get it,” he said. “The spell’s already cast. All that matters now is the direction it goes.”
Naiser glared, and for a moment Tommy expected the last thing he’d ever see was to be that furry man’s angry frown. Instead he lowered his spear and gestured for the other two windleapers to do the same.
“I accept your surrender,” Naiser said. “Throw down your weapons.”
The soldiers quickly obeyed, even Jarel. Tommy raised his hands above his head, and at last he released the spell. Fire roared into the sky, shapeless and wild. It continued for a long three seconds, then ceased. Tommy breathed out a sigh of relief. While casting the spell took a toll on his body, at least the incredible strain was gone.
“Whew,” he said. “I feel so much better now.”
“I am happy for you,” said Naiser, mere moments before the butt of his spear struck Tommy square in the forehead, knocking him bewilderedly into unconsciousness.
Tommy woke with his hands bound behind his back, a gag tied across his mouth, and a pounding headache focused in the center of his forehead. He grunted and sat up as best he could. His vision was blurry, and his surroundings dark, so it took a moment for him to gain his bearings. He checked his pocket, immediately worried for Tesmarie, but found her missing.
“So you finally come around,” Jarel said. “About time.”
The two of them were tied shoulder to shoulder to a thick wooden stake in the center of a field. Campfires burned across the fields, and Tommy struggled to focus his vision on them. Why so many campfires when the lapinkin lived in their earthen mansion? He tried to see who surrounded them in the starlight. A lot of shadowed figures, hundreds at the least. What in Anwyn’s name was going on?
“Where are we?” Tommy asked, but from behind his gag, it came out a muffled garble of nonsense.
“I can’t make out a word you’re saying,” Jarel said. His face sported a few new bruises, but other than that, he appeared unharmed.
“What. Happened?” Tommy tried again, speaking slowly and using extra emphasis on each syllable.
“What happened?” Jarel laughed. “What happened is somehow you can summon ice from your fingertips and you didn’t bother to tell me this before we attacked those fucking rabbits. That’s what happened.”
Tommy blinked at him and said nothing. Jarel wasn’t wrong, technically, but that hardly answered his question.
“Fine,” Jarel said. “A whole army of those lapinkin arrived from the west. They disarmed my soldiers and marched them into Coyote Crossing. The town’s been taken hostage. They’ve rounded everyone up like cattle and stuck them in some weird dirt cage. Other than you and me, obviously. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. The last thing I want right now from those mo
nsters is special treatment.”
Well, that was interesting. Tommy wondered how the lapinkin might execute someone they strongly disliked. Impaled with their spears? Or perhaps something more ritualistic involving wind. Could you kill someone with just wind? He didn’t know. What he did know was that tonight was not the night to discover the answer to that question.
“Can you get us out?” Jarel asked. “You know, with your spells, or whatever you did?”
He shook his head. With his hands bound and his mouth gagged, he couldn’t speak the necessary words. There were a few spells he could summon with just mental command, but they were raw and simplistic. Given the way his hands were bound, closed with his palms facing one another, the magic would just wash over his own arms. Not an appealing scenario.
“Wonderful,” Jarel said. He slumped against the stake. “Damn it all, I knew I should have said no when Albert asked me to come here. ‘I need someone I can trust.’ Fuck him. He can come talk with whatever bizarre creature decides it wants our land next.” Tommy realized the man had begun to cry. “Assuming there is a next time. Damn it. Goddess fucking damn it.”
He fell silent, his rage impotent and his tears more important. Tommy did his best to remain calm. Whatever the reason he and Jarel were separated from the others, he had to hold hope it was for something other than execution. Besides, if execution was on the menu, it didn’t really matter if he was calm for it or not. He’d still end up dead.
After an interminable amount of time a windleaper approached from one of the many distant campfires. His fur was black as coal but for the puddles of white splashed across his face and ears. His spear hung across his back, and he held a slender knife.
“I know about your magic,” he said to Tommy. “Make the slightest noise and I cut out your throat.”
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