That’s when I witness the problem.
The mark of an orange skull has materialized on Rule’s shoulder. With every passing second, the mark grows more defined.
Myla’s forehead crumples in confusion. “It just appeared.”
“Must be Primeval magic. It reveals what was always there.” My mouth thins to an angry line. Not sure who I’m more furious with right now: me or Peli. I should have guessed that the marks wouldn’t show without Primeval magic. When I saw Peli handing out the marks, no one in the after-realms reacted to receiving them.
I force in a slow breath. In the end, it doesn’t matter what I should have known. Rule is a Marked One. The color symbolizes Simian magic. The skull stands for ghoul kind.
It’s a strain to keep Rule back, but Myla and I are getting the hang of it. I scan the cavern. Peli sits atop the canopy again. He wears a half smile while tapping his shoulder.
“I tried to warn you,” says Peli. “My marks are tricksy.”
How I hate to admit this. Yet in Peli’s convoluted trickster way, he really did lob over a few clues.
Damn.
As turns of events go, this is very very bad. Still, there is one good spot here. The Contagion remains stuck in the Primeval. I saw this in the past; the whole point of Peli’s spell was to keep the evil wizard contained until he could be destroyed.
Back in the cavern, Aldred raises his voice. “Do not panic merely because a few worriers—” here Aldred glares at me and Myla “—wish to ruin the day.”
Inside the gateway, the Contagion inhales once more. “The power of the Marked One. I taste it. Fresh magic. Delicious.” The odd face in the tree trunk takes on a look that can only be described as bliss.
Myla grimaces. “I’ve seen that expression before. It’s the one I make when chowing down on a Demon Bar.”
“Yes,” I confirm, careful to keep my tone calm. “The Contagion is taking in new magic.”
“So this is about to become a shit show.”
“Apparently.” I look over to the canopy, ready to demand that Peli stop this disaster. Per usual, the monkey is nowhere in sight.
Within the gateway, the tar-like skin of the Contagion bubbles. This is a different look than I’ve seen more. In the past, the Contagion’s bark shifts, reminding me of shifting colors on a soap bubble.
Now it’s on he move.
Little by little, the Contagion seeps into the ground. The movement matches that of a geyser dying out.
“Look now!” Aldred gestures to the gateway. “The Contagion has melted away! I have destroyed it.”
The fact that Aldred did nothing to actually demolish the Contagion means zero to the audience. They love a fight and, more importantly, a win. My court breaks out into ear-splitting cheers. Aldred’s minstrels strike up again. I whistle more coded orders to my warriors and magic users. The sounds aren’t making it past the celebratory din.
Worry tightens every muscle in my body. First, Rule reveals himself as a Marked One. Now, my warriors and magic users are neutralized. The Contagion may have sunk into the ground, but I am not fooled. With every passing second, we get closer to trouble.
Myla and I keep up our efforts to hold Rule in place. Now he stops moving toward the gateway, his shoulders slumped.
“I am a Marked One,” moans Rule. “Where is my master?”
Myla pats his shoulder. “The Contagion took like a little burned out possessed tree vacation. You’re good now.”
An odd smell fills the air. It’s the scent of burning oil. Looking down, I find black goo pooling by my boots.
“Do you see that?” I ask Myla.
“Eek.” She frowns. “Is it some kind of naturally occurring cave thingy?”
“No.”
“Good.” Myla takes out her baculum and ignites them into a trident made of white flame. “I was worried I wouldn’t get to fight today.”
Grinning, I pull out my own baculum. With Rule staying put, there’s no reason to remain unarmed. I ignite the silver rods into a long sword.
More tar pools on the ground nearby, all of them small points at regular intervals.
“You said that Rule can enter the gateway,” says Myla.
“I did.”
“Can the Contagion get out?”
“If you’d asked me five minutes ago, I’d have said no. But that was before the Contagion inhaled extra power from Rule and his mark. Now, I’m unsure.”
“So these goopy spots on the floor could be the Contagion.” Myla’s eyes widen. “Oh, I bet that evil tree monster is looking for Rule.”
Meanwhile, the entire cavern retains its party vibe. Nobles cheer. Minstrels play. My magic users cast useless spells while my warriors press against firmly closed doors.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. As a hunter, I can sense when a predator is about to strike. And something’s coming right now.
With a great surge of tar, the Contagion surfaces inside the cavern, rising at the very spot where Rule stands. Fast as a whip, the gurgling lines surround the ghoul. For a moment, the burned-out stump of the Contagion looms inside the cavern itself, tall and immobile. Orange light appears behind the shifting lines of bark.
I can’t believe it.
The Contagion is consuming Rule.
The cavern falls silent. No more cheering. All dancing stops. A minstrel drops their lute.
Myla and I swing into action. My girl stabs at the Contagion with her trident. I strike at him with my longsword. Sadly, our angelfire seems as limited as my magic users’ spells. The baculum weapons don’t so much as singe the gooey bark. A face reappears on the tree.
“I am the wizard Contagion!” he cries. “You disturbed my slumber! Now you will pay!”
The audience goes berserk. If I thought there was chaos before, that’s nothing compared to what happens now. Everyone rushes for the exits while pushing and screaming their lungs out. Too bad the doors are locked.
“Nothing to worry about!” Aldred cries. A twinge of panic shines in his piggy eyes. “I knew this would happen.”
Important note: When it comes to Aldred, saying I knew this would happen always translates into I have no clue what’s going on.
I stalk toward the earl, my baculum sword burning brightly. “Open the doors now or I’ll slice your throat.”
All the blood seems to drain from Aldred’s face. Raising his arms again, Aldred addresses the crowd. “Change of plans! Open everything up!”
Along the back wall, the line of doors pop open. Cries of anguish and fear increase as everyone races through the exits. My guards and magic users try to keep things organized, but when an audience turns into a crazed mob, your options are limited.
“Lincoln!’ carries someone over the din. “Over here!”
It’s Myla. The Contagion has returned to his gurgling shape. Where once stood massive tree, now a burned-out stump melts into the ground. Within seconds, there is no sign the wizard was here at all.
The Contagion has vanished.
The gateway clouds over with an orange haze. The round structure collapses on itself as if a black hole were at its center.
Peli’s gateway disappears as well.
I exhale. If nothing else, the Contagion is gone. That must be good. Turning, I scan the cavern. Even better. The place is clearing out.
Myla stands near the spot where the Contagion last stood. Nat and Baptiste wait beside her with their backs to me, half leaning forward. In all the excitement, I hadn’t noticed them before.
My skin chills over.
The pair aren’t moving.
I step closer to Nat and Baptiste. Both are frozen solid. I’ve seen this before. The Contagion transforms enemies into wood instead of flesh and blood. That’s exactly what happened to Baptiste and Nat. In their frozen state, both hold metal rods that had been torn from the canopy frame. The pair wield these makeshift weapons as bats. No doubt what happened here.
Nat and Baptiste stepped in to help; the Conta
gion struck them down.
Myla brushes her fingertips down Nat’s arm. “What is this?”
“The Contagion froze them into wood,” I explain.
Guilt presses in around me, strong as a vise. I think back to this morning. I was the one who suggested Nat take Baptiste here. Sure, I wanted them to stay in the back, but I should have known better. Nat could never remain on the sidelines if he thought Myla and I were at risk. And Baptiste is the kind of go-getter who would leap in to help as well.
Myla turns to me, her gaze fierce. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Oh, yes.” I cup my hand by my mouth. “Peli! Open another gateway!”
We’re going in.
30
Lincoln
Peli reopens the gateway to the Primeval. This time, the round window shows a forest shrouded in deep shadows. It’s not a familiar spot, but I’m not choosey.
Whatever gets me there.
The cavern has emptied out. Even Aldred took off. All that remains is for Myla and I to leave as well.
A pool of orange light appears on the floor nearby. Seconds later, Peli materializes beside me and Myla. He stares at Nat and Baptiste.
“I didn’t want them to be hurt,” says Peli in a low voice. “It’s why I took you to my past. I thought it would help when today came.”
“It does help,” I confirm. “I now understand why you want the Contagion dead. Kill the caster, destroy the spell.”
Peli nods. “The Contagion will never choose to free the apprentices. And my family—” Peli swallows. “He’ll never set them loose, either. If we kill the Contagion, we release them all.”
I gesture into the darkened forest inside the gateway. “And wherever this place is, it gets us closer to that end?”
“You have my word,” says Peli.
I look to Myla. “Jump in on three?”
“My favorite number.”
Octavia steps forward. Not sure where she’s been lurking this entire time, but that’s Mother for you. No doubt, she’s also soaked in the entire situation. It’s another one of Octavia’s gifts.
“Son,” she says. “Don’t do this. I know you’re attached to Nat and Baptiste.”
“They’re my subjects, same as anyone else.”
“If we lose you and Myla, all of Antrum could be in peril. Are Nat and Baptiste truly worth that risk?”
I shake my head. “Would you say the same thing if the Contagion had frozen Aldred?”
A long pause follows. At last, Octavia answers. “It’s different with an earl.”
“It shouldn’t be,” I counter.
“No one else makes such distinctions.”
“We do,” says Myla. “Enough, Octavia. We’re going.”
“On my mark,” says Peli. “Three, two, one!” He jumps into the gateway.
With all the resolve in the world, Myla and I leap in after him.
31
Myla
Time was, my honorary older brother Walker shlepped me to Arena games via a ghoul portal. Not gonna lie. I bitched about the barfy feeling I felt while in transit. But ghoul portals have nothing on gateways.
Yow.
The moment I step inside the orange circle, it’s as if my body’s yanked in all directions at once. Pain tears through my nervous system. And for some reason, inter-realm travel reeks of stinky feet.
After two of the longest minutes of my entire life, it’s over. I tumble out of the sky and land in a strange realm.
On my ass.
Looking over, I find Lincoln standing beside me. His face is lined with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” I rise, rubbing my bum. “Too bad dragonscales aren’t good padding. You?”
“I’m well.”
I step around in a slow circle, trying to process what I’m seeing. To my right, a burned out jungle stretches to the horizon line. Nothing but charred stumps as far as they eye can see.
To my left, there stands a mighty forest. Towering trees with wide, fan-like leaves. And they’re all blue.
I squint.
Shake my head.
Blink.
Still blue.
Even more strange, the forest looks like someone cut the edge with a knife. There’s no slow transition to the burned out jungle—just a perfect line stretching off into infinity. There’s no sign of another living soul, either. Only me, Lincoln and a lot of blue freaking trees.
My mind goes fuzzy as I try to take in the truth. This is the Primeval. An entirely different reality. And we’re here.
Now, I knew this little Aldred fiesta would end with some kind of Primeval-related encounter. Yet somehow, I always pictured this other world invading the after-realms, not Lincoln and I transporting to a blue forest.
A small voice in the back of my head reminds me that isn’t true. The Primeval did invade the after-realms. My heart cracks as I turn to Lincoln.
“We’ll free Nat and Baptiste,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“That we will.”
My thoughts move on to the other casualty from this morning. “Do you think Rule is suffering? Like being slowly digested or whatever?”
“Doubtful. Trees aren’t carnivorous, and the Contagion is mostly plant right now. If I had to guess, I’d say Rules lies in suspended animation.”
“But that’s a guess.” I picture being digested in a tree and shiver. That’s some nasty stuff. “Back in the cavern, you said Peli has been shlepping you to the Primeval. I was thinking I could wait to get the full story, but I changed my mind. Care to share?”
Turns out, Lincoln’s in the mood to blab. My guy gives me a quick rundown on his trips to Peli’s past. I find out how the Primeval is shaped like a pie that’s been cut into four equal slices, one for each land. A massive circle sits in the center. That central territory is the jungle where the Golden Arbor once hung out. Good to have the basics.
Lincoln goes on to explain how the Contagion consumed the power of each land and then shut himself inside a tree. Gotta be honest. That’s a new one. Peli then ripped out the Contagion’s stolen powers—as in literally tore it out of the guy’s chest—and tossed magic marks into five lucky winners of the after-realms. Those are the five Marked Ones. Rule was first, and his body contained power from the Simian lands.
Key point: for the Contagion to return to his humanoid (and far more powerful) form, the wizard needs to consume the other Marked Ones too.
“Let me guess,” I say after a while. “I don’t know much about magic, but I know the order of your spell ingredients is key. Don’t toss in the eye of newt before the bat’s wing or whatever.”
“True.”
“Back to my guess. The Contagion must consume the Marked Ones in a particular order. And since the Marked One for the jungle is already gone—” I gesture to the blue forest beside us “—I’m guessing the Marked One for the Avians is now up on the menu.”
Lincoln nods. “You’re brilliant.”
“And lets’s not forget my other qualities.” Setting my fists on my hips, I pose like a 1940’s pin up girl. Humans knew how to appreciate women back then.
Lincoln turns to the forest. “The next Marked One must be somewhere in here.”
“Should I ask why Peli just doesn’t give us a map, or is it a trickster thing?”
“It’s the latter.”
“I’d launch into a tirade on the topic, but I’d rather see you do your hunter thing in a blue forest. You can find the next Marked One, right?”
Lincoln winks. “Just watch.”
All of a sudden, the entire sky fills with what look like small dots. The points of darkness arch and dive over each other.
“Those look like birds,” I state. “A lot of birds.”
“Hunt complete,” declares Lincoln. “Looks like the Avians found us.”
One dot in the sky breaks free and soars down toward our spot. Seconds later, a humanoid bird lands nearby. For a moment, all I can see are his great wings stretching beh
ind him, but those appendages quickly fold behind his back. He tilts her head and steps forward. Up close, I can see how he’s covered in tiny blue feathers from head to toe. His large round eyes flicker between me and Lincoln.
“I am Zoar, the Avian King,” she says. “You are intruders on our world.”
Lincoln starts to work his regal vibe. It involves standing extra tall while talking in an authoritative voice. Works all the time.
“I am Prince Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus,” says my guy. “And this is Myla. We came here because the Contagion entered our world and froze some of our people into wood.”
Zoar moves closer to yours truly. For an uncomfortably long minute, he stares at me from head to toe. “Our women aren’t shaped like you.”
“Fascinating,” I deadpan. “How about we move on to focus on rescuing the frozen people? Spoiler Alert—that involves taking down the Contagion.”
Zoar doesn’t seen to hear a word I say. Instead, his gaze stays locked on my chest. Gross.
“So lovely,” says Zoar. That’s when the king does the dick move extraordinaire.
He grabs my boob.
And this is not a gentle pat or anything, but a full on clasp.
Here’s the situation. Let’s say there’s an empty platter that holds a single large chocolate donut. The way I’d go after that donut? That’s how Zoar clutches my breast.
Now, I’m prepared for death blows. Back stabs. Throat punches. I’ve just never had someone all-out donut-grab my boob before.
On reflex, I slap his hand away. “No touchie!”
At the same time, my tail arcs, ready to skewer the guy. Before I can make a move, Lincoln has kicked the Avian king’s legs out from under him. My guy looms over Zoar. “You heard my fiancée. Do not touch her.”
Zoar hoists himself to his feet. “That was a grave error.” He lets out a series of high-pitched whistles. “Bring the prison chamber.”
A bunch of bird people fly down. If I had to guess, I’d say there about about eight in all. Each one has a long chain clasped in their hands. And those many cords lead to a single destination:
Trickster (Angelbound Lincoln Book 3) Page 12