Promise: Caulborn #2 (22 page)

“What are you doing?” Herb asked.

“Running recon,” I replied as I telepathically dominated the mouse and turned it around.

“How?” Herb asked. I held up a hand to shush him, and the mouse mimicked my movement with its paw. It’s tough to separate minds sometimes. I ran the mouse down the hall and into the room. From the mouse’s perspective an inch off the floor, everything looked huge and menacing. It took me a second to adjust to the new view, but once I did, I groaned. The mouse gave a mournful squeak right along with me.

“What’s wrong, Vinnie?” Gears asked.

“Redcaps,” I said, relaying what I could see to the others. “That makes sense. They’re attracted to castles the way flies are to honey. They’ll take up residence in any castle they come across. That banging is the sound of them running around in their heavy iron boots and banging the blades of their scythes against things.”

“I thought iron was toxic to fae,” Herb said.

Well, well, our necromancer knew about more than just the dead. “Yeah, but redcaps are masochists. They like the pain the iron causes them. They—hang on.” Through the mouse, I saw a cage filled with a dozen humanoids, the tallest no bigger than a toddler. They had a distinct reptilian cast to their features, their luminescent golden eyes sad. The only way I could tell that was that several of them had their faces pointed at the floor, and tears the size of water balloons splashed around my mouse.

“Looks like the redcaps have taken a group of kobolds prisoner,” I frowned. “This just got complicated. We’ll have to deal with the redcaps without hurting the kobolds.” I looked at Herb. “You have any weapons?” The necromancer shook his head. “How about calling up some of those deathless?”

“Given the circumstances, that would be very rude, Vincent.” Herb said flatly. Yeah, that had been kind of a long shot. “However, Irene says there’s a cache of weapons in a locker back the way we came.” Through the mouse, I saw a redcap grab a kobold and violently yank it from the cage. The kobold yelped like a dog and vanished. The redcap struggled with empty air, throwing wild punches that ultimately connected with something solid. The kobold’s limp form became visible a second later.

The redcaps were giggling and making a show of swinging their scythes just inches from the kobold’s head. No time to screw around. “You get the weapons and get in there quick,” I called over my shoulder as I broke contact with the mouse and ran into the room. The shift in perspective was staggering. From the mouse’s point of view, this room had seemed like Gillette Stadium. To me as a human, it was just a twenty-foot square, lit by fires in metal drums placed in each corner. The kobolds’ cage was tucked in the right corner, the redcaps scattered throughout. Four of them were holding down the limp kobold while the fifth raised its scythe to split the poor creature’s skull.

Not on my watch.

I shot out a blast of telekinetic force, wrenching the scythe from the redcap’s hands. The weapon spun end over end across the room and rebounded off the stones. The redcaps whirled on me. “Who dares interrupt us?” snarled the one I’d disarmed. “Introduce yourself proper, human, we’ll be wanting to get your epitaph right.”

“I am Vincent Corinthos, and I give you one chance to end this peacefully.” At the mention of my name, the redcaps took a collective step back. I used that moment to get a better look at them; a mouse’s eyes aren’t much for detail like this. The redcaps looked like miniature old men. They couldn’t have been more than three feet tall and had gnarled faces. Facially, they looked like they were seventy or eighty. But their bodies were another story.

Each redcap was bare-chested and had six-pack abs that would’ve made any
GQ
model jealous. Their arms were corded with muscles and scars and looked like they could bend steel with their bare hands. Coarse gray trousers disappeared into the tops of heavy iron boots that were marred with rust. Half a dozen clasps and locks ran up and down the boots, each one rusted shut. Atop each of their heads was a deep red stocking cap, from which the creatures took their names. The coloring actually came from the rather grotesque practice of dunking the hat into the blood of their victims. I was going to make sure they didn’t get a chance to give their caps a fresh coat.

When the kobolds heard my name, I saw hope bloom on their faces. Some of them began to wring their hands in excitement, and I heard both redcaps and kobolds whisper the phrase “god of the Urisk.”

The redcap leader rubbed his stubbly chin as he took me in. “Is that so, then? You come walking in here all high and mighty and thinking we’ll just bow and scrape to you? Offer apologies? Let the lizards here go after they came a’trespassing on our castle?”

“This castle does not belong to you. Its true owners want you gone, and I will not allow you to torment these kobolds. You can either leave peacefully or be destroyed. And make your decision now, because I don’t have time to waste dicking around with the likes of you.” Okay, I’ll admit that wasn’t diplomatic. There’s a reason Megan usually handles the negotiations. I suppose, deep down, I was looking for a fight. And I got it. The self-appointed redcap leader snarled and charged forward. I tapped my followers’ faith and sent forth a flash of fire so hot and fierce that the redcap was instantly immolated. His ashes continued toward me for a couple of steps, his boots reduced to molten puddles of slag on the floor.

When you’re a god, there’s a certain level of special effects that you have to use in order to keep up appearances. Unfortunately, that particular burst of Spielberg-inspired pyrotechnics had used up a lot more faith than I’d intended. I sighed and did my best look bored. “Did he speak for all of you?” I asked, turning my attention to the other redcaps.

They looked from me to the smoldering remains of their leader’s boots, and back to me. As one, as if on cue, they raised their scythes, howled, and charged. I didn’t have enough faith to immolate them all. Instead, I threw out a wall of telekinetic force. The redcaps slammed into it, the ones in the back crushing their brethren up front in their haste to get to me. I pushed hard and flung the lot of them across the room. The weight of their boots, which was much heavier than I’d anticipated, forced me to use extra faith. I was fully charged thanks to my recent visit to the Bright Side, but the last thing I needed was to get careless and run myself dry.

The telekinetic shockwave sent them hurtling backward into a heap. Several of the redcaps were now nursing shattered bones. The kobold they’d had pinned down was nowhere to be seen, and some of his companions in the cage cheered. A few of the redcaps got to their feet. One made a rude hand gesture at me, and he and three of his fellows charged again. I sent out another wave of force, but the redcap on my left rolled to the side and brought up his scythe with incredible speed. The tip of the blade sliced neatly through my shirt. A thin line of blood appeared on my chest, and the redcap positively giggled with glee.

“Gods ain’t supposed to bleed, Lord Corinthos,” he scoffed. He jumped back and spun his scythe in a very Jet Li-esque fashion. “I’ll handle him,” he called to the others. “You kill those squawking lizards.” The redcap thundered toward me. I flung him into his mate, who was reaching for the lock on the kobolds’ cage. The first’s boots crushed the second’s head with a wet crunch. I was feeling a bit smug, so I used a tiny bit of faith to radiate holy light. My luminescent special effects were spoiled when a redcap I hadn’t seen kicked my legs out from under me. I went down like a sack of bricks, and the little bastard pounced on my chest, pummeling me with knuckles so hard they might as well have been made of rock.

I felt my nose break, and I’m pretty sure I swallowed one of my teeth. Suddenly, the kobold who’d been pinned down earlier appeared next to me and spat a ball of fire at the redcap’s head. The redcap let out a yelp of surprise as his beard caught on fire, then he leapt off of me and knocked the kobold out cold. It happened so fast that I didn’t even have time to roll to my knees before the redcap was back on my chest, pummeling me.

I flailed, my hand brushing against the redcap’s boot. On instinct, I Opened the locks and latches. They clattered open and the boot fell away. The redcap froze atop me. I Opened the second boot, and my nostrils were assailed with the putrid scent of boot-feet like no other. It was a gentle bouquet of overflowed toilet and a dumpster on a muggy July day, and it took all the willpower I had to not throw up. Then it occurred to me that the other redcaps had gone silent.

I looked at my attacker. Instead of seeing a gnarled little old man, an absolutely striking young fae was sitting atop me. He had dazzling purple eyes, flawless skin, and no facial stubble. He looked down at his bare, pruny pale feet in shock. He wiggled his toes, and I couldn’t help but notice the thick bands of dirt beneath his nails. “Now, lads,” he said turning to his brethren, and froze when he heard the melodious tones his voice now produced. “Lads—”

“You know the law,” one of the other redcaps said. “The boots never come off.” With that, he shot forward faster than I could see, his boots thundering across the room, and beheaded the redcap atop my chest. He kicked the corpse off of me and took its place, resuming my pummeling.

Then there was a cacophony of twisting metal, and something yanked the redcap off me. My head swam as I fought my way to my feet, rivulets of hot blood running down my face and neck. Gearstripper sat astride the metal crab, his hands deep in its innards, somehow controlling it. The crab held the redcap by his ankles in its pincers, and Gears wrenched controls back and forth, causing the crab to slam the redcap into the stone floor over and over again.

Herb appeared in the doorway with a pump shotgun. He aimed and fired off both barrels into one of the redcaps clawing its way toward us. He pumped and fired again at another. Herb fumbled a couple more shells from a pocket, reloaded, and then unloaded into another. In a few seconds, all the redcaps were down.

My Glimpse chose that rather inconvenient moment to kick on.

A young Herb, perhaps fourteen years old, stood in a doorway, a shotgun braced against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he whispered, tears running down his cheeks. “I love you.” He pulled the trigger and the shotgun roared.

The jolt of my healing fever kicking in interrupted the Glimpse. I staggered to my feet and swayed. My body temperature spiked to uncomfortable levels; it felt like I was standing in a tanning booth that had been set to fricassee. I placed my hands against the sides of my nose and steeled myself before snapping it back into place. My fever would realign it properly, eventually. I pulled a bandana from my inside coat pocket and wiped my face.

Herb put a hand on my shoulder and then jerked it away. “Cripes, you’re burning up. Are you all right?” I nodded and leaned against the wall. Herb moved closer, put a hand under my chin, and lifted. “Holy cow, you’ve already stopped bleeding. How is that possible?”

I pushed his hand away. “Not now. Thanks for the assist, both of you.” I couldn’t look at Herb. Was he really a matricide? I’d need to dig into that later. Right now, there was still work to do. I took a deep breath and found my balance was already better. I tottered over to the fallen kobold. He, I think it was a he, at least, was breathing shallowly. His muzzle was bloody, but I was pretty sure he’d recover. I wished I could heal him, but I can only do things like that for my followers. I pulled off my jacket and rested it under his head. Best I could do for now.

I got back to my feet and staggered over to the kobolds’ cage. So much for looking like a total badass god. I touched the lock on the door and Opened it. “You’re safe now,” I said, ushering them out. Some of the kobolds stood stupefied amidst the destruction, their coarse tunics and pants tattered. None of them was wearing shoes, mostly because a kobold’s foot looks a lot like a mini-T-Rex’s. Most of them were covered in soot and dried blood.

A few of them rushed over to their fallen friend. One of them gently stroked his nose and made a sort of purring noise. A moment later, the kobold’s golden eyes blinked open. I walked over, feeling steadier already, and helped him up.

“You are Vincent Corinthos, god of the Urisk,” he said, a touch of reverence in his voice. “We thank you for your help.”

I smiled. “My pleasure. Do you have passage back to the Bright Side?”

The kobold shook his head. “I am Kleep of clan Drego. We have come to this world to start anew. We ran afoul of these creatures shortly after we crossed through.”

“Did you come through phasilion?”

“No, through an ancient waygate that only opens to this realm once every thousand years.” He shook his head. “We had hoped to escape the strife of our homeland by coming here.” He sighed, and sadness was plainly displayed on his reptilian features. “It seems there will always be those who wish us harm.”

I considered him and his clan for a moment. “Well, I know a safe place where you can start fresh. I’ll be happy to take you there as soon as my business here is finished.” I turned to Herb. “Is Irene okay with them staying for a bit?”

He nodded. “And she thanks us for removing the vermin,” he made quote signs with his hands as he nodded to the corpses of the redcaps. “She’s ready to show us to the lab.”

I told the kobolds to stay put and gestured to the door. “Lead on.”

“Lord Corinthos, please wait,” Kleep said. I turned to him and raised my eyebrows. “Allow us to provide a small measure of aid.” He reached out and pressed a golden glowing hand against my chest. It was like my healing fever magnified a dozen times. The swelling in my face vanished and I felt my skin pull itself closed. Kleep lowered his hand and nodded. “Be safe, Lord Corinthos.”

Holy shit. I hadn’t realized kobolds possessed healing magic. “I will, Kleep. And thank you.” We turned back into the hallway and continued past several other cobweb-filled rooms. It looked like the redcaps had looted everything they could get their hands on; crates were torn open, barrels were knocked over, and all manner of boxes were tossed haphazardly about. “I’m glad they’re all dead,” Gears hissed. “Or I’d have to kill them again for messing up Mr. Hammond’s stuff.”