Mature Magic 06-What Treachery Is This?, page 6
Matthew caught my gaze and nodded. “It rose from the ground around her feet, Madam Lares. Before we could even understand what was happening, she was encompassed in some kind of entombing energy.”
“Shimmering magic?”
He nodded. “You’ve seen it?”
“Unfortunately.” I began to pace, my stomach twisting with alarm and sadness for my friend. “Princess Layla isn’t alone. The crone has also been taken. And the demon Bathos.”
The guards stiffened, exchanging an alarmed glance.
“We were just trying to make a plan to get to the bottom of it,” I said.
Glenn seemed to finally shake himself out of his stupor and straightened to his full height. “We will accompany you to the crone’s enclave,” he said firmly. “I relish the opportunity to slay the leviathan once and for all.”
I shook my head. “We won’t be returning to her ocean palace.” Was it my imagination, or did Glenn look slightly relieved, despite his words. “Wanda is at her enclave in the woods. We’ll be going there after I speak with King Beul.”
Both men nodded.
I glanced at Gren. “Can you look into the Bathos thing? From my vision, I don’t think there were any witnesses, but maybe you can pick up a magical signature?”
“Of course,” Gren agreed. “I’ll also have the advocate speak to the Guardian Council about it. Maybe they’ve seen this before and can point us at a culprit.”
Ferral would love that. He especially liked being told to do something by Gren. But I nodded. Then, glancing toward Matthew and Glenn, I said, “I’ll be with you in a minute. I’m just going to go prep for our journey.”
I hadn’t intended to bring Monty along on the trip. First of all, because I wasn’t sure how feral the king of the shifters would be. For all I knew he thought slightly pudgy long-haired dachshunds were a good afternoon snack. Then I’d have to kill the king to protect my dog and it would become a thing.
Somehow, I wasn’t given the choice. My little man might not be magical…technically…but he had special powers none-the-less. Powers of guilting me into bringing him along when I didn’t think it was a good idea.
Watching him bounce along in front of me as we wended our way through the Mystical Wood in search of a kingly cave, I couldn’t help smiling. The little guy had a way of making any day feel better, even when the world looked as if it was in danger of ending soon.
“How can something so little create such positive energy?” Matthew asked in his deep, gravelly voice.
I glanced over at him and saw him grinning at my little dog. Despite an abundance of large teeth and threatening black horns, not to mention the long black claws wrapped around the deadly spear, I knew the two devils well enough to not worry about the devilish glint in their black eyes. They were amused by Monty, like everyone else was. And all the little dog had to do was be his usual happy, bouncy self to entertain them.
I slid a glance toward Glenn and felt my eyes go wide. “Please tell me you aren’t wearing that cat like a scarf right now.”
Glenn stopped petting Wraith and threw me a guilty look. “She insists on hitching a ride. This creature is spoiled.”
“Uh huh,” I said with a neutral expression. “You could have said no.”
“I’ve heard that small felines pee in your shoes if you displease them,” Matthew said helpfully.
That was the moment Monty noticed his buddy was getting a shoulder ride and started to leap off the ground with joyful barks as Glenn tried to step around him.
I eyed the guard’s cloven hooves and lifted my brows. “I didn’t think you had to worry about shoes.”
“He has a pair of fuzzy slippers in his quarters,” Matthew said, earning a glare from his pet-pestered friend.
I pinched my lips together to stop a grin.
Two hours later, I glanced up into a clear blue sky and groaned, mopping a sweaty brow in misery. Fall might be sitting just on the horizon, but it definitely hadn’t arrived in the Mystical Forest. There were no clouds above, and the trees had grown scarce. Which meant there was nothing to soften the heat of a broiling-hot sun. Whining like a five-year-old on a family car trip, I asked again, “Are we almost there?”
Matthew, who’d moved ahead and had been periodically lifting his slitted nostrils to the sky in an apparent attempt to smell our destination, swung a glance my way. He didn’t look pleased.
I didn’t blame him. It was possible I’d asked the same question more than half-a-dozen times over the last hour.
“We will get there when we get there,” he told me with an angry sniff.
I sighed, fighting the childish urge to stick my tongue out at him when he turned away again. In my defense, even Monty was starting to lose his generally endless joie de vivre. He kept jumping up and putting his fat little feet on my knees, making soft eyes at me in a not-so-subtle plea to be carried. I finally gave in and picked up the little furry furnace, and immediately felt as if I might melt into a puddle within five minutes.
“There!” Matthew finally said, thankfully pulling me from thoughts of melting.
My gaze swung toward the spot where he was pointing and I jolted to a stop, all of my discomforts forgotten in the blink of an eye. “Swearity, swear, swear,” I murmured. Monty stopped licking salty sweat off my throat and whimpered as he caught a glimpse of what lay ahead.
“By the heat of a thousand funeral pyres,” Glenn ground out. “Is it too late to turn around?”
8
ITS BOUNDARIES CLOSE, ITS PEOPLE FREE
Without counting them, I guessed there were a few dozen shifters ranged along the opening of the cave mouth below. Werewolves, large cats, a grizzly and several brown bears, oversized hawks like the ones that guarded Bathos’s home, and even a gorilla. Several canine-like creatures such as fox, coyote, and even a giant dog filled out the ranks. Each shifter stared at us with hostility and distrust. Every single one looked ready to attack.
They had to be shifters because if they weren’t they were the biggest animals I’d ever seen.
We stood on a high ridge with spear-shaped rock walls rising around us, stabbing into the overbright blue sky.
Matthew clutched his spear and stepped into a fighting crouch. “Since there are currently dozens of hostile gazes on us, I’d say it’s too late to turn around,” he told Glenn.
I tried to hand my wriggling dog to Glenn, then snatched him back as Wraith spit at him, and tried to bop him on the nose with a clawed paw. I stood there in indecision for a beat, not wanting to set him down for fear one of the massive shifters moving toward us up the hill would have an afternoon Monty snack. “I knew better than to bring him with,” I grumbled softly.
Glenn made a convulsive movement and I turned in time to see the big black cat he’d been carrying sail through the air and land on four, light feet. “Wraith!”
“She just jumped,” Glenn said, looking horrified.
The black cat slipped soundlessly away, disappearing into a crevice in the rock wall rising overhead. “She’ll be fine,” I told him. “She’s hard to find and even harder to catch.” I eyed the enormous army of shifters loping our way and prayed I was right.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my staff. Monty wriggled out of my grip and slid clumsily down my hip to the ground before I could grab him. Curse, curse, swear! “Monty!” Like his cat buddy, he bounded away and disappeared into the crevice. While that didn’t make me happy, I reasoned it was a good place for the two of them to hide until we came to an understanding with King Beul.
Down below us, a cacophony of roars, screams, and growling burst into the silence, accompanied by the clack and scramble of claws as they climbed to meet us.
“Any chance they’re just coming to say, Hey?” Matthew asked as he stepped away from the cliff’s edge.
A particularly angry-sounding bellow vibrated the rock beneath our feet. “I’m thinking not.” I strode quickly forward and, without hesitation, put into practice a side of my magic I’d only used one time before…and that had been by accident. I’d since been practicing the skill, with limited success. But desperate times called for desperate…
I flung my fist in the air, my staff clutched in my other hand, and yelled. “Stop!” My voice echoed through the canyon, pinging off rocky projections I could see for miles. The shifters barely hesitated, scrambling higher with every breath.
I sent magic into my staff and thought angry thoughts.
The first ribbon of wind was a waltz, dancing through the canyon and coiling enthusiastically through manes and fur. The waltz was quickly followed by a gust that pulled dust and small rocks off the ground, pelting the creatures that were climbing toward the clifftop with its annoying load. When that didn’t slow them down, I ground my teeth and opened my eyes, flinging myself earnestly into the weather magic.
With the roar of a fast-moving train, a wind-funnel blasted into existence in the center of the canyon. The smaller shifters were lifted immediately from the wall and flung into the air, a particularly unlucky cheetah was sucked inside the whirlwind, its limbs and long spotted tail spinning past in the rotating wall of wind before it was flung away as the intensity began to build.
The shifters dug into the rock with unnatural claws and flattened themselves to the wall so they could keep climbing. An enormous hawk was sucked from the sky as it prepared to attack.
I wiggled my fingers and fed more magic into the concoction.
Rain pelted downward like bullets, the impact hard enough to tear skin and bring cries of pain from the throats of the climbing combatants. A few of them slowed or stopped. A couple even turned back toward the ground.
But most kept coming.
I lifted my free hand and clenched it into a fist, closing my eyes. I pulled magic into my hand, feeling it burn a path from my core and along my arm, settling into my closed fist with an intensity that bathed my hand in silver energy.
High above my head, thunder growled and grumbled, rolling through the canyon like waves in a violent tsunami. Without warning, the grumbles turned to a roar, and the rock beneath the shifters’ feet started to crumble. A dozen shifters danced for a moment on the moving surface to which they clung, and then started to slide backward.
Most found purchase and started upward again.
I flung my fingers wide and screamed into the building storm. “Stop!”
The thunder bellowed across the land, a thunderous echo that seemed to rock the world. I thrust my staff above my head and silvery light shone into the darkening day.
Rain pelted.
Wind screeched.
Thunder boomed.
And from my staff, lightning slashed, its electric fire horizontal instead of vertical. The shifters slid down the crumbling surface of the cliffside, crashing to the ground amidst a wash of rocks and other debris. The lightning was a deadly force slicing the soupy air just above their heads, and they ran for cover, finally crying uncle as my storm energy gave them the final ingredient of a powerful magic cocktail.
Wind.
Rain.
Earth.
And fire.
I slowly closed my fingers and pulled magic from my staff. The wind died. The rain slowed. The thunder abated. And the lightning burned through the air one last time.
Then silence fell over King Beul’s kingdom.
We waited.
A roar replaced the chaos of my storm and, a moment later, Barloc Beul’s massive form filled the large black opening in the face of his rocky lair. His golden-brown gaze lifted unerringly to mine and he snapped his head, exposing massive fangs as he roared again.
The lion was massive, with a silver mane that glistened in the returning sunlight. His fur was sleek and black. His long tail snapping like a whip behind him.
His roar trailed away on the sound of snapping teeth.
On either side of me, Glenn and Matthew sighed.
“He seems annoyed,” Matthew finally said.
Glenn snorted out a laugh. “No. You think?”
Ignoring them, I set the end of my staff on the ground next to my feet, feeling like Gandalf and probably looking like his slightly younger, definitely more windblown cousin. “King Beul,” I called into the residual silence. “I am Aggy Lenore, Guardian Lares of the Rome dominion. We need to talk.”
The two lost ones preceded me down the path in the cliffside which Beul thoughtfully showed us with the wave of a massive paw. The path was narrow, smooth, and slick, making me wonder if he’d actually set a trap for us rather than aiding us in our mission to speak with him. But somehow we made it down, and I found myself walking a gauntlet of angry shifters. Snarls and low growls followed in our wake, making me happy to have the two lost ones at my back. I kept my staff out, the orb on the end pulsing with silver light in case any of them decided it was a good time to get a little payback for my stormy magic show.
Wings thudded the air behind me and I’ll admit I ducked my head as an eagle the size of a prehistoric pterodactyl flew over us and landed on the rock above the shifter king’s front door…aka the mouth of the cave.
As we drew near, Beul’s furred form shivered and elongated, until he was a man rather than a lion. Even as a human man, Beul was enormous. He stood close to seven feet tall, with a bushy brown beard and a mop of wild brown hair. Both were liberally peppered with gray, but there was no other indication of age in the lion king. Despite the fact that he was still formidable as a human, I inclined my head in thanks for the change, feeling slightly easier speaking with him as a man, rather than the fearsome beast of his lion. “King Beul.” I inclined my head. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
He held my gaze for a long beat and then looked out over his guards. Lifting a hand to the sky, Beul signaled for them to move back into their positions. He jerked his head toward the cave behind him.
We followed him into the darkness, the inside surprisingly bright and the air cool. I lifted my gaze to a circular opening high above our heads. It was situated above the fire I assumed the lion king used to cook his food and warm his cave. Another one of the giant eagles stood near the opening. It caught my eye with its intense yellow gaze and puffed its feathers in threat.
Beul chuffed like a large cat and the eagle lifted away, sailing out of sight. “I apologize, Madam Lares. My guards are protective to a fault.” He sighed, leading us through a narrow passage that opened into a smaller cavern. I blinked in surprise when I spotted furniture. A couch and two matching chairs were situated in front of a hollowed-out rock wall which housed a merrily snapping fireplace. Fluffy hides were draped over the back of the couch and spread over the floor in front of the fire.
Beul indicated a tumbler filled with golden liquid on a small table between the couch and one of the chairs. A book lay on its face, spine broken, next to the drink. “Can I get you something? Tea, coffee, whiskey neat?”
His playful question had my gaze lifting to his. What I saw made the corners of my lips quirk into a smile. “I’d love water,” I said and then remembered I wasn’t alone. “For my companions too, please. It was a hot journey.”
Beul nodded, lifted a hand, and the corner shadows shifted to reveal a slender young woman who scurried away down another passage. I shared a startled look with Glenn and Matthew. I hadn’t even noticed the woman. Matthew inclined his head to let me know they’d seen her.
That only made me feel a little bit better. I should have been more aware of my surroundings.
“Please sit,” Beul said, indicating the couch and chairs. I lowered myself to the couch, but the lost ones moved to stand behind me, not sitting. The young woman returned, bearing a silver tray with three tall glasses of clear liquid and another tumbler of what I presumed was whiskey. When she’d handed the drinks around, she bowed toward Beul and scurried away again.
“What is it you wish to speak about?” the lion king asked. He sat back in his chair, holding his glass lightly in his dense fingers, and fixed me with an expectant look.
I wasted no time getting down to business. “I understand you recently avoided capture by strange magic.”
The lion king’s eyes flared slightly before he nodded. “Yes.” He frowned. “Strange magic is a good name for it. I’ve got someone trying to figure out what it was as we speak.” He pursed his lips. “I’ve never experienced its like.”
“Can you describe it to me?”
He cocked his bushy head. “May I ask why?”
“You, unfortunately, are not the only one who’s encountered the strange magic. But it appears that you are the only one to escape it.”
Twin, bushy brows arced upward, disappearing beneath the mop of his dark hair. “How many?”
I gave him the list of victims we knew to that point. “I’m afraid many more will be taken if this is not stopped.”
Beul shook his head. “The crone? How is that possible?”
“We don’t know right now. But I’m hoping you can tell us something that will help us figure that out, and hopefully save others from the crone’s fate.”
He thought about my words for a beat and then nodded. “Of course. I do wish to help. But before I tell you what I know, I wish to come to an agreement with you, Madam Lares.”
“Please, call me Aggy. If I may call you Beul?”
His golden-brown gaze narrowed on me and, for a beat, I thought I’d offended him. Finally, he inclined his head in agreement. “Aggy. I wish to accompany you when you breach this villain’s stronghold.”
Breach a stronghold? I thought about his words, wondering if he’d used ancient language on purpose, or if he was just that old. I finally decided it wasn’t important. “We’d be honored to have your help,” I told him. “But I have no idea what we’re dealing with yet, and that may not be necessary.”
