Summoner: Book 2: The Inquisition (34 page)

‘We will go with you, to the pyramid,’ Blue said, motioning down the creek. ‘When you is attacking, we is raiding the orcs and freeing many gremlins.’

‘Wow,’ Fletcher said. ‘That’s very … generous of you.’

‘It is helping both our causes,’ Blue said simply. ‘When the alarm is being raised, we is knowing you is discovered. That is when we attack.’

Fletcher could not tell if it was blind opportunism or a friendly alliance. Either way, a small army of gremlins to guide them was an advantage he could not pass up.

‘Fine with me,’ Fletcher said. He extended a hand, and Blue took it. The gremlin’s fingers were coarse and thin, like clutching a bundle of dried twigs, but he gripped Fletcher’s hand warmly enough.

‘Take weapons.’

It was Half-ear – he had been one of the gremlins who landed among them. The braves flanking him threw two baskets to the ground. A clatter of metal revealed their contents, and Fletcher’s team wasted no time in arming themselves. Sylva picked up Cress’s crossbow, trying to get to her falx at the bottom of the basket. There was a tense moment as Cress held out her hand to take it. Then, reluctantly, Sylva passed it along.

It was a relief to feel the weight of his khopesh at his side once more, and Fletcher realised how naked he had felt without it.

No sooner had they finished, the gremlins were tugging them towards the creek, impatient to move on.

‘So, we float,’ Blue said when they reached the bank, pointing at the shallows.

What Fletcher had first thought were enormous lily pads turned out to be strange, bowl-shaped vessels that floated on the water. Already, the braves were leaping into them, with four to each craft until they had all boarded. Still, a few vessels remained, including an especially large one.

‘Will those things hold our weight?’ Othello grumbled. ‘We dwarves aren’t known for our swimming prowess.’

Cress nodded in agreement, prodding at a boat with her toe.

‘They will,’ Jeffrey said enthusiastically, jumping into the nearest one. It rocked dangerously as he swayed on his feet, and water slopped in over the side. The gremlins twittered to themselves as he floundered, trying to prevent it from spinning with the tiny oar roped to its side. Still, it floated well, and he sat happily enough in the puddle of water at the bottom.

‘Coracles,’ Jeffrey said knowingly, rapping the side. ‘The river peoples of western Hominum use them for fishing. Woven willow rods form the structure and tar-coated animal skins make them waterproof. Their flat bottoms mean they barely disturb the water and, by extension, the fish. Sometimes the simplest ideas are also the best ones.’

‘As long as they get us there by midnight, they’re good enough for me,’ Fletcher said, stepping into his own and lowering himself to the floor. It was comfortable, like sitting in a large basket.

The others followed suit, though Lysander and Athena remained in the treetops, preferring to stretch their wings. There was a moment’s struggle as Sariel splashed her way through to the largest coracle and tumbled in. From the smell of it, this bigger vessel was the one the gremlins used to store and transport their catch. She didn’t seem to mind, snuffling at the bottom and lapping up the remains with relish, coating her tongue in flashing scales.

Sylva shuddered and then laughed aloud.

‘You’d be surprised how good that tastes to her,’ she chuckled, reaching over and ruffling the Canid’s ears. ‘I should probably infuse her but … she seems happy enough.’

There was a pause as the team manoeuvred their vessels downstream, then the gremlins slipped their oars into the creek.

‘Onwards,’ Blue fluted, stroking the water white as he propelled himself away from the bank.

They pushed into the centre of the river, where the gentle current picked them up. It tugged them along at a much faster pace than Fletcher had expected, in fact, they did not need to paddle at all. All he had to do was dip the oar in occasionally to keep the coracle from spinning.

‘Can we go any faster?’ Fletcher called over the rushing water. ‘We need to be there before midnight. How long until we get there?’

‘Plenty of time,’ Blue said. ‘Don’t be worrying.’

Fletcher groaned and forced his anxiety away, hating that the fate of their mission rested on the word of one gremlin. Sylva caught his eye, and he saw she had an arrow nocked to her bow. Clearly, she trusted the gremlins a great deal less than he did.

He shrugged and settled back, allowing his spine to rest on the shallow curve of the vessel. The gremlins chirruped among themselves, while the rest of his team watched the forest go by, their eyes half closed. It had been a long day, and the setting sun was already lulling them to sleep.

Ignatius pawed at his thigh and Fletcher saw him staring into the waters below. It was clear and placid as a sheet of glass; he could see the green fronds lining the bottom, swaying in the current. As he watched, a stingray glided past, as large as the coracle he sat in. Its undulating sides propelled it faster than the current, and it soon disappeared beyond his sight.

‘Good meat,’ Blue said, watching from his coracle. He ran his finger over the tip of one of the harpoons strapped to his back, and Fletcher saw it was barbed like the ray’s sting. ‘Useful tails.’

Even as he spoke, more rays emerged from the weeds below, drifting beneath in tandem. Wide-finned fish with green backs joined the procession, powered by the soft beating of their tails.

Something darted past, scattering them aside. It snatched a fish in its mouth and spiralled in a helix of bubbles, revealing itself to be what had disturbed the crowd from the shade of the underwater forest.

A dolphin, pink as a dahlia, swam beneath them. Its long beak gulped down the prey, then it thrashed its flukes, breaching the surface and splashing down in a burst of water.

All around, more rose-coloured dolphins leaped and dived, whistling and clicking with what sounded like laughter. The gremlins clapped their hands with joy, some even throwing titbits from the pouches at their waists for the dolphins to catch. Many replied, matching the dolphin sounds with their own. It was strangely beautiful to watch, as if the two were singing to each other.

‘The old men of the river is blessing journey!’ Blue laughed, splashing the water beside his coracle to beckon one to the surface. ‘It is being good omen!’

The dolphin rubbed its rosy flipper along Blue’s fingertips, as close to a handshake as the two species could manage. Then, as if some silent signal had been passed between them, the dolphins shot off upstream, leaving the coracles to continue their journey alone.

‘That was beautiful,’ Sylva said, gazing after them. She turned to Blue. ‘Could you understand them?’

‘We is speaking many words while they is speaking few,’ Blue said, smiling from ear to ear. ‘Some say, long ago we is learning to speak from they. It is not the same, but we is understanding they meaning.’

As he spoke, his face darkened. Fletcher followed his gaze, peering through the dim light of the setting sun.

A crumbling statue lay on its side by the water’s edge, layered with moss and vines. The head was partially submerged in the shallows, but there was no mistaking the creature it depicted, with its broken tusks and jutting brow. They were in orc territory now.

Night fell thick and fast, with barely a sliver of moon to illuminate their passage. They dared not produce wyrdlights, for the creek had widened into a tributary and the great river they had to cross flowed ahead, signalled by the sound of rushing water. The pyramid sat on the other side, the dark outline stark against the star studded sky. It was at least ten times bigger than Fletcher had pictured, larger than even Beartooth’s peaks. He forced himself to stifle a curse of disbelief, in case there were enemies lurking nearby.

To keep them together, Blue had tossed them the end of a harpoon each, which they embedded in the rims of their coracles. Lysander and Athena had already flown ahead, to scout out their landing zone on the other side of the river. Even Sariel had been infused by Sylva, for the boat sat too low in the water with her inside. It now contained four gremlins, who deftly manoeuvred the unwieldy coracle into the centre of the fleet.

‘Row, hard and fast,’ Blue said in a harsh whisper. ‘If current is taking you and you no keep up, we cannot save you. Your rope will be cut.’

Fletcher heard the sound of splashing and the coracles began to rock. He was sprayed as they entered the choppy rapids then, as he felt the boat lurch with the running water, he slashed over the side with his oar, desperately propelling the boat forward. Soon Fletcher was surrounded by grunts of exertion as they struggled on, and his world became a seemingly endless repetition of thrust, sweep, pull; thrust, sweep, pull.

The darkness obscured those around him. All his eyes saw was the pyramid against the skyline. Beneath it, thousands of goblin eggs were waiting to hatch, and a tortured soul waited for rescue. They were so close, he could taste it.

As the seconds ticked by, he despaired as the great silhouette slid from right to left, the current pushing them further and further down the river.

His arms burned but he dared not stop. On and on he rowed, snarling through his teeth with every thrash of his oar. Even Ignatius helped, cupping his claws and bailing the water that splashed into the bottom of the coracle and soaked Fletcher’s trousers.

Then, unexpectedly, he felt the grate of sand beneath him. Blue’s nimble fingers grasped his own, tugging him into the shallows of the river bank. The gremlin dragged the coracle behind them, until they had staggered to the edge of the jungle.

‘Dig now,’ Blue hissed, removing the harpoon with a tug and pushing Fletcher’s hands into the soil. ‘We is hiding the boats.’

Fletcher dug blindly at the ground with his hands. Despite his exhaustion, it was surprisingly easy to push aside the earth, for it was loose and dry. Athena fluttered down beside him and helped, as did Ignatius. They pawed the loam between their legs until the hole was deep enough to stash the shallow bowl of a boat, making sure to place it upside-down so it would be easy to remove should they need to return. He could hear the others in the darkness, burying their own coracles. No sooner had they finished, than Blue reappeared.

‘You friends is being ready,’ the gremlin whispered, pushing the harpoon and its coil of rope into Fletcher’s hands. ‘Follow. We eyes see better.’

Fletcher gripped the harpoon and trudged into the blackness, the water squelching in his boots. Every now and again there was a tug on the harpoon’s rope and he would adjust his direction. Twice he stumbled, stifling curses as he grazed his knees on the pebbles that lined the shore. He was not the only one to trip over, judging from the occasional thud and gasp of pain from behind him.

Fletcher wished he’d had the foresight to put on the scrying crystal, for Athena and Ignatius’s night-vision were better than his. Instead, he had stashed it inside his pack in case it fell in the water, and now he was too occupied to delve inside and find it. Even the cat’s-eye spell was out of the question – the yellow light of the spell would reveal their presence, exposed as they were on the river bank.

Despite the pain twinging through his knees, he was glad the gremlins were there to help them. He could not imagine how the other teams would cross the river, not without being swept half a mile downriver before reaching the other side. He hoped that all the teams would make it in time.

‘Stop here,’ Blue hissed.

They were at the base of the pyramid, where the forest had been cleared away to leave a clear path to the stony base of the giant structure. The building towered above like a sleeping giant, and Fletcher was filled with dread at the awesome sight. Shaking his head with resolve, he strained his eyes in the darkness. He was just able to make out the entrance, yawning like a cave mouth.

‘This is being where we part,’ Blue said, his voice low and urgent. ‘We is hiding among our brothers and is attacking tomorrow.’

‘Good luck,’ Fletcher whispered.

‘I is thinking it is you who is needing it,’ Blue replied. ‘The gremlins is living further down the river.’

He paused and lay his fingers across Fletcher’s palm.

‘May we paths cross again, Fletcher.’

With that, the harpoon was jerked from Fletcher’s hand, followed by the fading patter of feet. He looked out into the darkness, hoping to catch another glimpse of the brave little creatures, but they had disappeared into the night. Fletcher’s team had been lucky to find such formidable allies.

After a moment’s pause, Fletcher positioned Athena on his shoulder and pulled the scrying stone from his bag. Swiping her wingtip with it to begin the connection, he strapped it to his eye and took in the scene.

The others were crouched in the dirt around him, their wide eyes unseeing as they glanced around fearfully. Even Lysander seemed nervous, his claws digging a furrow in the earth as he waited for their next move.

‘I can’t believe we made it,’ Fletcher said, looking at the position of the moon in the sky. ‘It’s almost midnight. Let’s see who else is here.’