The Emerald Dragon (The Lost Ancients Book 3) (19 page)

“Why don’t you tell me what you know about where we’re going?” I figured we’d talked enough about Glorinal for one lifetime.

Orenda glanced to Covey, but turned away when she gave a convincing snore. The plan she outlined was simple, but I wondered if that was because Locksead hadn’t told her much.

The dig site was a new one, located outside of Kenithworth. Because they didn’t have the flood of diggers found in Beccia, and the whole ruins thing was new to them, there weren’t the tight restrictions on getting assigned a dig site. You did need to have at least one qualified person on the crew, and they favored groups over individuals. The original plan had been for Orenda and Carlon to pose as a renowned digger couple who was actually currently working down near the Spheres. They looked like the couple well enough, and it was known the woman was a half-elf.

Now that they had Covey, Harlan, and me however, Locksead found himself with an abundance of real cred. He had briefly suggested that Carlon and Orenda still keep up their ruse, but Orenda had shut that down immediately.

The plan was for us to go in as a group of digger explorers, find the best relics, then take off before the gatekeepers realized what we had found. I was hoping to find clues as to where whoever took Alric had gone, but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit growing curiosity about the possibility of an untainted Ancient dig site.

As of yet, no respectable diggers knew of the uniqueness of this location. Locksead wouldn’t tell where exactly the dig site was nor how he found out about it.

“So how is he doing?” Like the rest of them, who already knew the plan, I now had a vested interest in Locksead’s recovery. He was keeping everything vague so everyone needed him alive. Unfortunately, Carlon appeared to be a major part of this, so we couldn’t dump him off somewhere.

The scowl Orenda had been wearing earlier came back at my question. “I believe he will be okay, but he still was unconscious. His right arm is shattered. Unless we find a healer, he won’t be using it for a while. I can’t tell if something attacked him, or the damage is just from being thrown. And now that Carlon has kicked me out, I won’t be able to tell what is wrong internally when he wakes up.”

She folded her arms and did a great imitation of Covey dozing. I settled back and let my thoughts bounce around my head as we continued down the road. I’d never been to Kenithworth but Harlan had estimated that it would probably take two weeks to get there.

With nothing else to focus on, my mind went back to Alric. I just was having trouble thinking the rakasa would have gone through the trouble to find and hire a pair of changelings to cover his kidnapping. The changeling probably lied about little men hiring him.

Which meant someone else took him. Hopefully, once we got to the city, I could send the faeries on his trail.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Harlan had been off by a week in our travel estimate. It had taken closer to three weeks and we were still a day out of the city. We’d developed a routine for setting camp, each of the wagons had, and I was out setting the wheel blocks and admiring the view as soon as Tag stopped our horse. We were on a cliff overlooking a valley divided into farms of various colors of green. The city itself was behind that, and even from this distance, it was huge.

My hometown had been little more than a fishing village. And while Beccia had grown significantly in the fifteen years since I had moved there, it was less than ten percent of the sprawling city before me.

My back was toward the rest of the camp, and I was trying to decide if I had time for a closer look at the valley below us before dinner, when Locksead’s voice shattered my thoughts.

“Tell your friend to leave Orenda alone. He’s married.”

Locksead had recovered, but Grimwold’s magic hadn’t been enough to help heal his arm, so it was still in the sling. A few days after we’d gone on the road, Carlon had created some kind of paste that solidified into a hard cast.

The cast was annoying, and Locksead still couldn’t do much with that hand, but it did get him back to his usual self. Unfortunately, it also got him back to focusing on Orenda.

And so was Harlan.

“He’s married, but chatalings traditionally have multiple wives, and I think his current ones are done with him.” I finished shoving the block under the last wheel and turned back. “I am not going to get involved in anyone’s love life, least of all yours.”

He looked ready to launch yet another argument against Harlan and Orenda, but Covey appeared from the side of the wagon. “Time to get some drills in before dinner.” She glanced at Locksead as if she’d just seen him. “Cook is looking for you.”

I smiled as he left. I had grown tired of the weird little love triangle over the last three weeks. Especially since Orenda seemed to be totally oblivious to the drama.

The smile dropped as Covey held out a short sword and dagger. I completely agreed that I needed to be better able to defend myself, but I’d been counting on my magic training to do just that. Covey wouldn’t listen and brought up way too many arguments on why relying on magic—even once mine became stronger and more consistent—was a bad idea. A blade could still hurt a magic user if they couldn’t get a spell out in time to block it. Actually, all I had to do was look at Grimwold and the point was driven home. What if my magic never got higher than his? Without Alric or another magic user I trusted with my secret, my training was at a standstill.

With a sigh, I took both weapons from Covey and squared myself for another painful and annoying round of training.

I could get the basics of sword and dagger fighting down. However, the subtle nuances that would make me a serious fighter I just couldn’t seem to grasp. Covey and I had been doing some weapons and hand-to-hand training since the whole glass gargoyle incident. But she was now like a woman obsessed.

“No, you dropped your left arm again, right after you swung. You left that side unprotected and I could have run you through.” Covey had a blunted practice blade today, so she whapped my side as she spoke in emphasis. She alternated between a real blade and a practice one. So far, she was pulling any strikes with the real blade, so the practice sword was far more painful.

“It just doesn’t come naturally.” I set down both blades and flexed my fingers. “Maybe I need a longer sword.” The one she had me training with was a short curved blade, as favored by the sword dancers of the Akalsat region. It was light, which was good, but it just didn’t feel right, as if I was always swinging too short. I had no idea where she’d come up with all the weapons, and she didn’t feel like telling me. Most likely she lifted them from the university in one of her odd, “I’ll bring them back and it’s for the greater good” justifications.

Covey bent down and traded the practice blade for the large sword. “You need to start with a lighter blade, and then go for reach. The bigger ones are heavy. Come on, we still have time for a little more before dinner.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth, than Cook rang his dinner bell. I’d never been so happy to go eat in my life.

I rounded the corner of the wagon to get in line for food—Cook’s on-the-road food wasn’t half-bad, but he was stingy with the amounts—but ran right into a mass of faery wings.

They were yelling about something. Of course, the more faeries got excited, the higher their voices got. Judging by the high-level squealing I heard, they were very worked up.

I thought about dodging around them, but if I did that, someone would just send me back to deal with them.

“What is wrong?” That launched a barrage of chittering flung my way. “Wait, one of you, Crusty, you tell me what’s wrong.” As the leader, more or less, of their tribe, Garbage looked affronted that I hadn’t asked her. But Crusty was holding back from the argument. Most likely simply because she hadn’t noticed it. She was flying in tiny loops, humming to herself.

“Bunky stuck. But he make us promise not to follow.” That was possibly the most coherent sentence I’d ever heard from her.

“We want to follow,” Garbage said and the rest of the faeries nodded. “But can’t.”

I looked at all of their tiny, frustrated faces. Bunky had been keeping them in line on this trip, but if he wasn’t here, I didn’t see how he could enforce it. They never obeyed me if I wasn’t around.

“Why can’t you?” I held up my hands and all three of my faeries landed on them. The remaining ones hovered nearby.

Garbage looked embarrassed. “He say no.” All eleven other faeries nodded their heads in stern agreement.

“Since when has that stopped you?” I was still lost.

“He put spell on us.”

I almost dropped the girls at that one. Bunky
was
a spell; he was a construct created by some ancient and insanely powerful mage for who knew what reason. Alric had assured me that constructs couldn’t be magic users.

“Why did Bunky put a spell on you?”

Leaf piped in first on this one. “He did for you. You say we listen to him. Him make it happen.”

I looked to the other faeries, but they just nodded. Garbage scowled, folded her arms in annoyance, and then nodded.

Bunky was able to cast a spell because I told him to? I tried to think of any transference magic that Alric might have touched on. However, if he had, it had been just that—touched on. And not something I’d kept in my head.

I looked longingly where folks were lining up for dinner, then shook my head. Bunky was lost and in this situation because I wanted him to keep the faeries in line. I had to go find him.

“Fine, I’ll go find him. Just point the general direction that he went.” Eleven tiny arms pointed down a trail a bit behind our camp. Crusty just reverted to spinning in a circle. “Garbage, tell Covey where I went, and ask her to grab me something to eat.”

Bunky was probably still close by, but obviously he’d been gone long enough for the girls to get worried. The trail they pointed out was one possibly used by wagons bringing things for sale to the city below. It was nice and wide and looked harmless. Just how I liked them.

I kicked myself as it started to get steeper. I should have asked the girls why Bunky had gone down here. That thought grew larger as another trailhead appeared to the right. One that, unlike this one, was narrow, dark, and twisty. And had a piece of fabric stuck to it. Fabric not unlike the scraps Glorinal had been wearing.

Crap. Part of me said to go back and get Covey, the other part worried about the setting sun and finding Bunky before full dark.

I went forward.

The trail became even more twisted as it dipped further into the trees. I found another scrap, but both looked like they’d been there a while.

A buzzing and thumping shook me out of my dark thoughts and led me toward a tree stump.

I was glad I’d kept going when I did. Peering down into the stump, I could barely see Bunky. Had night fallen, I might have heard him, but seeing an all-black construct in a blackened tree trunk would have been impossible.

He was caught up in some webbing that at first I thought was some sort of natural plant life. But I realized it was a net when I pulled up a section of it. The edges of the stump were treated with some sort of sap. Whatever Bunky had been out here looking for, he’d triggered a hunter’s trap meant for a prey animal.

I slipped on a pair of thin gloves Covey found for me, and went to work on freeing him. It took a few minutes, but I was able to pull him out of the trap. His buzzing had grown stronger as we got closer to freedom, until he was practically singing as I lifted him out and pulled the netting free of his body and wings.

“Now, you fly back to camp immediately; show the girls you’re okay. And we will have a talk about this later.” Our conversation was mostly me talking and him buzzing, but I usually was able to get my point across.

I was heading back to the wider trail, and feeling good about saving Bunky, when a dark shape dropped onto the path in front of me.

Chapter Thirty-Three

I took a step backwards. The shape took two steps forward. Whoever it was had successfully blocked the way I came down the trail. I had no idea where the trail behind me went, but it had looked only darker and twistier the further you went in. I regretted not grabbing that sword I’d been using. I still had my knife, but that wouldn’t be much use against a trained fighter. Hopefully, it was just some lost old man out for a stroll

The shape moved out of the shadows. It was a man, and a trained fighter. Worse of all, it was Carlon.

Carlon had been hounding me in the last three weeks on the road, especially if he thought no one was looking. I’d managed to never let him get me alone.

This was the first time he’d gotten me far from the others, and alone. He must have seen me leave and followed me. “I need to talk to you.”

I backed up. I still had no idea how much of a magic user he was, but I didn’t want anyone, let alone him, knowing I was one as well. “I have nothing to say to you.”

Some voices could be heard on the main trail and Carlon covered the distance between us in a single stride and pulled me close with far too much familiarity. He looked over his shoulder toward the trail and shook his head. “Sorry about this, but they can’t suspect anything.” I recognized Tag and Jackal arguing about what trees burned best coming down the path and heading our way. Right before Carlon kissed me.

I pushed back as hard as I could, but Carlon was strong and he resumed his kiss. He broke away for a split second, just before my knee connected with his groin. “I need them to see this. It’s me....” His voice came out in a squeak as he tumbled to the ground.

Tag and Jackal came up at that moment, took in the scenario, and laughed. “Told ya she was smarter than you,” Jackal said. Tag made sure Carlon couldn’t see him, then gave me a thumbs up. They both continued down the trail looking for firewood.

Carlon writhed on the ground. I’d gotten a good knee in. “Alric.”

He’d said something else, but I couldn’t hear him. His eyes were watering as he curled around his middle. He looked like he was fighting not to throw up.

“What did you say?” Had he been behind whoever took Alric? I pulled out my knife. If he knew where Alric was, I was getting answers.

“It’s me, Alric.” For a brief second, the ugly façade vanished, except for the hair, and Alric’s annoying—and contorted in pain—face appeared.

My heart jumped. Why was he here? Had he escaped from whoever took him then taken Carlon’s place to try to rescue me? Then a darker thought crept in. “Wait a minute, have you been Carlon the whole time?” I put a lot of weight behind those words as everything slipped into place. I’d been worried about him, terrified that someone was torturing him somewhere, and he’d been right beside me for three weeks? I felt even worse when a second thought hit me—he and I had been building a relationship while he made Orenda scream with pleasure every night? If I thought I could have reached them, I would have kicked him in the balls again.

“Yes, but I can explain.” He’d put the glamour back up so I was facing Carlon again.

“Go. To. Hell.” I couldn’t reach his balls but I kicked him anyway.

I got back to the camp without crying but it was only because I was too mad to cry. I made it to the wagon I was sharing with Covey and Orenda. I saw Orenda at the other end of camp talking to Harlan over the remains of their dinner. If I was lucky, Covey was off somewhere as well.

Unfortunately, she was inside the wagon and flung open the door just as I was reaching for the handle. She took one look at my face, and tightly curled fists, and pulled me inside.

“What happened?”

“Carlon is Alric.” All the emotion hit me at once. “I’ve been looking for him, spending time worrying about him, and he’s been off playing with his elf girlfriend the entire time.” Again, I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but it was that or start crying. When we got back to Beccia after this job, I was joining those nuns Covey had stayed with.

“Now there might be a good reason.” Covey trying to be gentle with me wasn’t a good sign.

“All the time he took off from us? He was with these thieves. He was with Orenda.”

Covey looked confused. “How do you know? I mean he dumped her, but she doesn’t seem like a jilted lover to me.”

“I heard all about it before you guys showed up. He made her scream with pleasure every night according to the others. As for her getting over him, he used some sort of spell on her. That’s why she collapsed the first night we joined them.”

Covey’s eyes went into flat predator mode. “He slept with her? Repeatedly? While he was supposedly doing research or with his people?”

To be fair, she was a friend, my best friend, but it was the lying that she was the most upset about. That and the fact she thought he’d been with his clan when he took off after the glass gargoyle and the obsidian chimera when instead he’d been hanging out with relic thieves. The fact that he’d just broken my heart was something that would hit her later.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Covey got to her feet. I knew she needed to go attack something; her face was what the field mouse sees right before a hawk made him his dinner. Nevertheless, if I said I needed her, she’d stay.

“I will be.” I just needed to be alone right now. First Marcos was actually the Jinn brothers in a spell, and then Glorinal was actually a murdering sociopath out to rule the world. Now Alric, the man I thought I was falling in love with, showed his true colors. His current look might be mostly spell, but it obviously reflected who and what he really was.

“I will take care of this.” With a curt nod, Covey left the wagon.

I wanted to cry. I needed to cry. But I just couldn’t do it. Therefore, I just started pacing and let my mind bash itself around.

A soft knock came at the door. I ignored it and kept pacing.

A moment later, the knock came again, this time joined by a bunch of smaller ones.

“We come in now!” Garbage was not the pillar of subtlety.

I swung open the door. It was easier to let them in than have them get louder and louder. I was heartbroken and furious at Alric, but I didn’t want to give away who he was until I was a hundred percent sure he’d betrayed us. Me.

My three faeries flew in along with Tag. The rest of the henchfaeries stayed outside protecting the door although Penqow and Dingle Bottom were tussling over a specific spot in the air.

“Did he hurt you?” Tag’s eyes were huge as he scanned my face and arms for injuries.

I forced a smile. “No, but he’ll never try that again.”

“Oooo! We get to kill him now?” Tag must have filled Garbage in on what had happened. He and the girls were becoming close.

“No, Covey went to go take care of it, just in case he didn’t get the hint.” I looked at my three faeries. None of them had picked up on Alric. Even under a magic disguise, they should have noticed something.

“Girls? Have you noticed anything unusual about Carlon?”

Crusty frowned. “He no like us, always stinky. On purpose.”

That was a new one. I never noticed any odd odors around him, but then I tried to stay away from him. However, little bothered the faeries’ sense of smell.

“Smelled like what? He’s a jerk but I’ve never smelled anything on him,” Tag said. “Sometimes Wold gets a bit ripe, but Carlon isn’t like that.”

“Like Elerdowln.” Leaf said and the other two nodded encouragingly.

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but racking my brain, I got nothing. Covey or Harlan would probably know, but he was with Orenda and Covey was hopefully taking a certain elven high lord down a few dozen pegs.

“Wanna try a more common name?”

Tag was nodding though. “I know what that is, my former mistress was a plant lover. It’s sewerweed. But it doesn’t smell like anything unless the leaves are boiled.”

I’d noticed that since I had already told him I guessed he’d been in a household to the south, Tag would let slip a few things from his past. Only around the girls and me.

“It does too!” Garbage said. “It is nasty smelling all time. He smell like it.”

“Has he always smelled like that?” I might not know what sewerweed was or its effect on the faeries, but I’d bet my last two coins that Alric did.

Crusty entertained herself by darting in and out of the ratty curtains, but paused in mid-air at my question. “Not first night.”

“Yup, next morning all stinky,” Garbage added and Leaf nodded. He had kept to himself that night and the next morning been up before all of us, “scouting”. Damn bastard. He knew the girls would see past him if they got close enough.

“So this stuff affects all faeries?” If Alric knew to use it, others might as well. I’d have to ask Covey if she knew of a way around it. I counted on the girls to find people, if it got around that this weed could block that, I’d lose the advantage of having them.

“Yes, no faeries like.” Garbage crossed her arms. She wasn’t sure what I was getting at but I could see her defensive lower lip starting to stick out. She knew something had been missed on her watch.

“Except Penqow and Dingle Bottom.” Leaf said thoughtfully.

“Yes, they go boom.” Crusty was sad. I would have been more worried if the two faeries in question weren’t outside my door still fighting over airspace. But boom was such a catchall phrase with them who knew what it meant in this case.

“What kind of boom?”

“Fall in sewer. It go boom. They don’t have good smells now.”

Ah. And since both of them were Garbage’s lieutenants in training, they wouldn’t have thought to go near Alric unless she did.

“Garbage, you trust those two? Penqow and Dingle Bottom?” I knew little about them except Penqow seemed to be almost as good at running into walls as Crusty, and Dingle Bottom was often seen just spinning in circles giggling to herself.

Garbage gave it serious thought. Which meant a full two seconds before answering. “Yes.”

“Then can you have those two follow Carlon? Report back to me anything odd or interesting about where he goes and what he does?” I would have rather had my three follow him, but since they couldn’t get close to him because of the sewerweed, I’d have to hope these two could do the job.

“I do.” Garbage started toward the door, and then turned around. “We no get to kill him?”

I smiled and it was a real smile. “Not yet.”

All three faeries nodded and Tag opened the door for them to fly out.

He looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but then Locksead bellowed for us to meet near his wagon.

Covey joined us as we followed the others to the wagon. The extra faeries stayed by my wagon door, but Penqow and Dingle Bottom took off after a few words from Garbage.

Covey’s eyes narrowed. “Carlon has been hiding. I never got a chance to talk to him.”

I almost felt bad; had he not made it back to camp yet? Then I shook my head. What was I thinking? The one thing Alric could do better than any other was survive.

The look in Covey’s eyes made me almost feel better about the betrayal. Alric would get payback sooner rather than later. I dropped my voice and slowed our walking. Harlan and Orenda were right in front of us. “We do need to find out what he’s doing. But we can’t let Harlan know who he is yet.” The problem with Harlan was that aside from his many disguises, he was just too sincere to hold a lie well. He couldn’t know Carlon was Alric until we were ready to expose him. I did wonder if even with whatever spell Alric put on Orenda, she’d change her mind once she found out her former lover was an elven high lord. I shoved that thought back into the same dark corner all of my Alric thoughts now lived and finished walking toward Locksead.

“This is our last night before we go down to Kenithworth, so I need to make sure everyone is ready.” Locksead waved his injured arm at the group. “Since I clearly can’t go down as a digger with this arm, I am putting Jackal in charge. You will listen to him as you would me.” He looked around as he noticed a missing person.

“Where in the hell is Carlon?”

Jackal stepped forward with a smirk, it was clear no one in this gang held any fondness for Alric’s alter ego. “He might be a bit late, had an accident down the trail and needed some time to compose himself.”

Locksead shook his head. “When he comes back you, he, and I will meet. The rest of you, just stick to your scripts and we’ll be riding out of here in a week very rich.”