Witches Brew, page 15
part #6 of Phantom Queen Diaries Series
“Help me how?” I asked, grinding my teeth as I struggled to my feet, which at least took some of the strain off my shoulders. Of course, that still left the matter of the iron cuffs. Fortunately, I had an idea; I tore off pieces of my borrowed cloak with my teeth through my tears, wrapped the fabric around the manacles until the iron no longer touched my skin, and fought to control my breathing before I blacked out a second time.
“She sent you luck,” Petal replied, once I’d recovered.
“Excuse me?”
“Luck. Ariel is a sylph, an air spirit. She said can bestow luck on other people, even from afar, though it tires her. Didn’t you notice?”
I almost said no, but hesitated, realizing there might be some truth to what Petal was saying; I had noticed a series of remarkable coincidences lately. First, I happen to stumble upon the one witch’s shop who coincidentally knows exactly who I’m looking for, a witch I call right as he’s being abducted. Then, my brand-new rental car breaks down on the side of the road and no one picks us up, which ends with Maria and I being “magically” drawn to a valley occupied by the very witches we were hoping to find. And of course, there was the fact that Max and I had practically stumbled on this place by falling through a ventilation shaft in the middle of nowhere. I shook my head, wondering if it was truly possible. “Somehow I doubt this is what she was hopin’ for,” I said, raising my manacles for Petal to see.
“She passed out about an hour ago,” Petal replied, mournfully.
I grunted. “So, that means our luck has run out, does it?”
Petal strobed again but said nothing.
“Who else is in here?” I asked.
“There aren’t as many of us, now. Ariel, Eleanor, me, Jameson, Gilly, and...Ennis.”
The way she said the ogre’s name made me frown. “Where’s Ennis?”
A low growl down the corridor caught my attention. I looked past the pixie and saw someone, something, move in the shadows, too big to be a man. Too late, I remembered the man I’d come with. I cursed myself for forgetting and turned to Petal. “Did the witches bring someone else down here with me?” I asked, hopeful. “A man?”
“No manlings,” a deep, dull voice replied.
“He’s right. There wasn’t anyone else with them,” Petal insisted, then caught sight of my face. “I’m sorry.”
I shook that off. I’d have time to worry about Max later. “Ennis, is that ye back there?”
“Ennis,” the voice confirmed.
“Listen, Alby sent me. He asked me to help ye.” In actuality, the Pooka had asked me to tell Ennis to get his ass back to work, but it didn’t seem the time to relay that particular message.
“Alby?” The ogre moved away from the wall and into the light. I gasped. Honestly, I would have taken a step back if I’d have enough give in my restraints, but instead I was forced to stare at the ogre’s ruined body. Or what was left of it; one of Ennis’ arms were missing, as was his right eye. They’d cauterized the wounds, leaving them unbandaged—blackened but not bleeding. I cringed, unable to stare at his ravaged face any longer. Granted, ogres were rarely the most attractive creatures to begin with, but what had been done to Ennis was truly awful, all the same.
And, what’s worse, I knew where his missing appendages had gone.
“Aye, Alby,” I said, voice breathless, doing my best not to flash back to the monster’s long, knuckle-dragging appendage or that gunked-up eye.
“They brought him back like that,” Petal said, quietly. “We tried to help, but there was nothing we could do.”
I nodded dumbly but noticed something odd about Ennis’ restraints in the process. I leaned forward, peering into the dimness. “Ennis, can ye raise your arm?”
The ogre raised his good arm, his one eye staring as if baffled by the limb itself. But it was enough for me to confirm what I’d seen: they’d chained him to the wall with the wrong manacle. The iron cuff rode tight around his wrist and must have been agonizingly painful, but I was beginning to suspect they’d drugged the poor ogre. That, or ogres had an inexplicably high pain tolerance. Otherwise, he’d probably still be screaming.
Of course, in this case that also meant the chains holding him were weaker, smaller, than they might have been—meant for a weaker, smaller creature.
Which gave me an idea.
A horrible, awful idea.
“Petal, I’m sorry for this,” I said. Then, before she could respond, I called out to Ennis. “Oy, ye big lout! What the hell is wrong with ye?” Ennis blinked owlishly at me. “Alby said to come get ye. It’s time to get off your big, stupid ass and get to work!”
“Work?” Ennis echoed.
“Aye! Come on, ye moron! This way!” I jerked my head.
Ennis—still looking puzzled—frowned, shrugged, and started walking towards me. Petal started to warn him not to pull at his bonds, but I shushed her. “Let him come,” I growled under my breath. The ogre barely managed to take a step before the chain on his wrist drew taut. He tugged at it, scowling.
“Hurry up!” I urged. “We don’t have all mornin’!”
Ennis grunted, then tugged harder, the muscles in his good arm bunching, purple veins throbbing under the faintly lime-colored hue of his skin. He growled, then groaned, inching forward. Petal covered her ears as the metal shrieked, the links of his chain stretching until at last, with an audible snap, they gave way. Ennis was free.
The one-armed ogre fell to one knee, breathing labored. “Work,” he said, nodding to himself. He rose and began shuffling down the hall towards me, occasionally bumping into the walls in the process, clearly unaccustomed to walking a straight line with only one eye.
“Ennis!” I said, drawing his attention back to me. “Ye have to take me with ye.”
The ogre slowed, but didn’t stop, and soon he was nearly past me.
“I owe Alby money!” I said, desperately.
Ennis froze. “Owe?”
“Aye. I owe him lots of money. He’ll want to deal with me, himself,” I suggested. Honestly, I had no idea what sort of arrangement Ennis and Alby had, but at the moment my only shot at freedom was getting the ogre to break me out. Once I managed that, I could figure out how to rescue everyone else, Max included. Hopefully.
“Deal with,” Ennis replied, nodding. He took two steps towards me, reached out, and grabbed me by the collar of my cloak, lifting me off the ground with that one obscenely strong arm.
“Oy! Let me go!”
“Owe,” he grumbled. He yanked, hard, drawing me away from the wall, pulling my own chains as far as they would go and forcing my arms back as a result. I struggled, screaming in pain, but he ignored me, too focused on the fact that he couldn’t seem to drag me away with him. By the time he finally realized it was the chains holding me in place, I was seconds away from rearing back and kicking the miserable fucker in the balls. But, before I was forced to, he dropped me unceremoniously onto my butt.
“Goddammit, ye stupid—”
But that was as far as I got before I had to duck the ogre’s haymaker—an ugly punch that took a chunk out of the stone above my head. One of my chains fell limp in the process, no longer secured to the wall, though when I tried to lift my arm I found it attached to a block of mortar the size of my torso. The other chain Ennis simply pulled out of the wall the way you’d draw out a dipstick, forcing me to cover my unprotected head as rubble and debris fell around my shoulders. I shook the dust out of my hair and kicked at the dumb brute with everything I had. “Stay back!” I yelled.
Ennis took the blow on his side and slipped, unable to balance with only one arm, collapsing to the ground. Once on the ground, he made a pitiful sound—a keening wail that reminded me what had been done to him. Hell, what I’d made him do. My anger fled as I rose to my feet, struggling with the cumbersome weight attached to my wrists. Of course, now that I had some leverage, that wasn’t as problematic as it might have been; I wound one of the chains around my boot, stepped on one of the links, pressed my heel into the metal, and curled my arm until the chain links squealed, then popped loose. It took a good deal of huffing and puffing, but eventually I was left with two manacles and only a foot or so of chain dangling from either hand. It wasn’t ideal, but at least I could move.
I hurried to Ennis’ side and propped him up, ignoring the stench of seared flesh that radiated off the ogre, not to mention the whimpers. Once he was solidly on his feet, I stepped away, putting as much distance between us as I could manage. “I paid Alby,” I said between labored breaths.
“Paid?” Ennis echoed.
“Paid,” I confirmed.
The ogre nodded and turned away, staring down the hallway as if listening to a song I couldn’t hear, perhaps waiting for me to insist he return to work. The guy certainly seemed to have a one-track mind; no wonder Alby liked having him around.
“That was reckless,” Petal whispered, once she realized the excitement was over.
I stumbled towards the pixie, reached out, and snapped two of the links in quick succession. Sure, her restraints might have been made out of iron, but they were also as thin as the chain of a tasteful necklace and—for someone my size—ridiculously easy to break. “Let’s find the others and get the hell out of here,” I said.
Petal stared down at her shackled wrists, frowning. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”
I slumped against the wall, a small headache threatening to burst over one eye. “Why not?”
“Because that won’t work on Jameson.” Petal said, pointing down the hallway, coincidentally the same direction Ennis was currently facing. I peered into the gloom, took a step forward, and groaned, palming my face. Jameson. Of course. I remembered now. He’d been the first to reportedly go missing—though perhaps only because his absence had been the most obvious.
Jameson the giant.
You know, maybe it was about time to wake that sylph the fuck up.
Because I was beginning to suspect my luck was shit without her.
Chapter 27
After freeing the other Fae who’d been taken by Frankenstein and his minions—the rest of whom were fortunately closer to Petal’s size than my own—I had Eleanor, another pixie, watch the door while I tried to sort out what in the world I was going to do about the giant problem staring me in the face.
Pun intended.
“How did they even get him in here?” I mused, staring at the gargantuan hand of the largest Faeling I’d ever seen; the shackle encircling his wrist would have made a nice belt for someone Max’s size. While Jameson certainly wasn’t the largest giant I’d met—that honor went to Skadi, the Norse goddess I’d helped set free while in Russia—he was still ridiculously large, his body folded in on itself as if he’d been shoved into the alcove he occupied at the end of the chamber—an opening far bigger than the doorway Eleanor was guarding. Had they built the lab around him? Shrunk the bastard, then blown him up again?
Christ, magic pissed me off sometimes.
“It was the witches,” Petal explained. “Jameson said he woke up here after one of them offered him a drink. I’m sure he’s been warned not to take drinks from strange manlings, but giants aren’t exactly the sharpest knives in the armory, obviously.”
“But they didn’t take anythin’ from him,” I murmured, gesturing. The giant turned his big brown eyes to me, nostrils flaring, the few wispy hairs on his head hanging limp over his bald scalp. But, no matter where I looked, I couldn’t see any missing limbs. No signs of amputation or damage of any kind, really. So, what had they been after?
“They took hair and blood,” Petal supplied. “We weren’t sure why.”
I frowned but didn’t have time to dwell on what Frankenstein might have wanted with Jameson’s DNA, because Eleanor came rushing back, buzzing past her fellow Fae, her tinny voice a high-pitched whine that reminded me of a faulty smoke detector. “Someone’s coming!”
Of course they were.
I stared up at Jameson, who seemed relatively unconcerned with his predicament, as if being trapped underground were another day in the life of a giant. That, or giants were super chill by nature. Sadly, there was nothing I could do for him at the moment, and I think we both knew it. “I’ll come back for ye, I promise!” I called up. Jameson smiled and flashed me a thumbs up, his two good teeth poking out of his lower gums like sun-bleached tombstones.
I grimaced but returned the gesture before hurrying back to the others and reminding them of the plan we’d come up with, should we be interrupted. Together, the six of us pressed ourselves against the hallway on either side of the door and waited—even Ennis managed to meld into the shadows. The clatter of footsteps sounded as someone, maybe several someone's judging by the racket, approached the door. Muffled voices. The ding of a keycard.
The door hissed open.
“Now!” I yelled.
The pixies took off first, blasting past the two shocked witches. I had no idea which witch was which—try saying that five times fast—but at this point it didn’t matter; I owed both an ass whooping for knocking me out and leaving me to rot in a glorified dungeon. Ennis came next, barreling through the doorway as the witches turned to pursue the pixies. That was pretty much the whole plan, if I was being honest. Distract and conquer. The ogre easily bowled over the blonde, but missed the brunette, who dove to safety on the other side of the door. Gilly—twin sister of the web-footed selkie I’d met back at Christoff’s bar—carried Ariel through the gaping doorway, her bare feet slapping against the tile floor as she bolted to safety.
Which, as I’d hoped, meant I was batting cleanup. Of course, without my guns or my Fairyville Slugger, may he rest in peace, I was going to have to make do with what I had—a whole lot of pent-up frustration and a penchant for violence.
“Get off—“ the brunette began to shout, holding out one hand towards Ennis, who had basically done all he could by falling on the blonde, letting his weight do the rest. But I didn’t let her finish; if I’d learned one thing about witches over the last couple of days, it was that I didn’t want them casting spells.
So, I resolve to break her jaw.
Thankfully, I’d practiced this and was careful not to snap her neck with the kick I fired off, holding back enough so I wouldn’t inadvertently kill her. The leather-clad brunette spat blood as she toppled, eyes fluttering closed. “Aye, that’s right. Payback’s a witch!” I declared as I stood over her limp body.
I turned to find Ennis and the blonde looking up at me, neither struggling. I rolled my eyes. “Fine, no more puns.” I bent down and hauled the blonde out from underneath the ogre, clamping a hand over her mouth before she could start leveling curses at me.
“Ennis, grab the dark-haired one,” I said, tilting my head towards the witch I’d knocked unconscious.
“Grab,” Ennis replied, rising awkwardly to his feet, slowly adapting to his one-armed status. Once upright, the ogre snatched one of the brunette’s arms by the wrist, drug her to his side, and looked at me expectantly.
“Close enough.” I turned my attention back to the blonde, whose eyes were wide and tear-filled, and shook her. “Knock that shit off,” I snarled. “Listen, I’m going to ask ye two questions, and I want ye to answer those questions as fast and accurately as ye can. But if I even t’ink your castin’ a spell, I’ll hold ye down and let Ennis here eat your tongue.” I leaned in until my lips brushed her ear. “Ogres love to eat tongues, especially when they find one still squirmin’,” I whispered, intimately.
Not even remotely true, by the way.
That would be hobgoblins.
The blonde made a whimpering noise and I shook her again. “D’ye understand me?” Once I knew I had her full attention, I held up one finger. “Alright. First question, where is Max?” The blonde began to answer, her voice muffled behind my hand, but I pressed that same finger into the flesh of her cheek. “Remember,” I insisted, “be very fast, very precise. Or say goodbye to that tongue.”
She nodded, hurriedly, tears trailing down her doughy cheeks, and I let go. “He’s with Ygor,” she said. “Take this hallway, turn right, second door on your left.”
I slammed my hand back over her mouth before she could continue and held up a second finger. “Question number two. And t’ink very carefully about this one. Is there anythin’ I should know before I knock ye out? Because, and keep this in mind, if I come across any surprises on me way, I may just have to kill ye and leave ye to rot out of spite.”
Sadly, the blonde didn’t seem interested in answering that question.
Because that’s when she fainted, slumping to the floor like a sack of potatoes, her face covered in a sheen of sweat and tear tracks.
“Well shit.” I turned to look at Ennis, who shrugged, jerking the brunette off the ground. I sighed. “Any chance ye could take both of ‘em and get above ground?”
“Shit,” Ennis echoed, cocking his head quizzically.
I nodded, cursing. “You’re right. Too much to hope for.”
Thankfully, it turned out my luck wasn’t complete shit after all, because the other Fae hadn’t run off like I’d told them to; Petal and Eleanor came buzzing around the corner with Gilly and Ariel taking up the rear. “The way is clear ahead,” Petal said. She took one look at my current predicament and actually smiled, her teeth razor sharp like that of a shark’s. “Don’t worry. Go save your friend. We can take care of the witches.”
“Ye can’t kill ‘em,” I instructed. “I mean it. I have to get ‘em back to their coven, or else a...well, not a friend. More of a frenemy, really…” I waved that away. “Whatever. Let’s just say someone I know would end up payin’ for it.”
Petal frowned but bobbed her head. “Fine, but if you find any of the others—“
“Oh, they’re all dead.” I glanced at Ennis’ wounded face, at Ariel collapsed in Gilly’s arms, and thought of those poor witnesses I’d met who would never see their loved ones again. I clenched my fists. “Trust me. They simply don’t know it, yet.”
