The Glass Gargoyle (The Lost Ancients Book 1) (20 page)

Again the pounding of my heart drowned out any pursuit, but I didn’t see anyone behind me when I slid into the small dig clearing. I did a full spin again to make sure, but nope, not a single person behind me. The next thing I noticed was that the dig site was clean. Really clean.

I’d seen this place on the maps and knew it by reputation. It had been covered in at least twenty-five years of dig refuse and abandoned as a real dig site. But now it was clean.

“I say, you do like to make an entrance, don’t you?”

I spun a third time stopping mid-way when I saw the dwarven academic. “Yes, I…how is this clean?” Supposedly he just received this commission, so how could he have cleaned it that quickly?

“You ran in here at full speed to exclaim upon my cleaning abilities?” He laughed and leaned on the pole he held.

“No, I mean, I am surprised at how neat it is, this was a dump.” I bit my lip as soon as the words came out. Nice thing to say to your new patron on your first day. “That was not what I meant to say.”

His round face grew even more cheerful. “Oh yes it is. And it was. But fear not. There is a method to my madness.” He motioned to two camp chairs pulled up alongside a camp table and two mugs of steaming herb tea. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you were running?”

I took a long sip of the tea, forcing my heartbeat to get back into a more normal range. “Someone shot at me, at least once. Black fletching on the arrow.” Okay so I still was not making much sense once I thought about the arrows again. Maybe I should just focus on how Thaddeus got the site so clean so fast.

“Someone…shot at you?” His round little face had gone completely immobile. Odd, I hadn’t known him that long, but that seemed like a completely unnatural way for it to be. “Are you certain? Where?” He rolled to his feet and peered off into the jungle as if the shooter would walk up and introduce himself. Or herself. I shouldn’t be sexist. Homicidal maniacs can be either gender.

“I don’t think they followed me, or if they did they stopped shooting a while back.” That was a pleasant thought, maybe they’d just run out of arrows. “The only one I saw was back at the bend from the main track. It crossed right in front of my face.”

He scowled at the jungle a few more moments, then resumed his seat. “I assume you’ve not done anything recently to warrant being shot at?” His mouth was still pulled down in a scowl, and I had to say having it directed at me was not pleasant.

“No, I haven’t done—”

“I’m kidding.” He waved one wide hand at me while he started laughing. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to warrant being shot at. I do my research on people I work with.”

I didn’t want to correct him, but he really should know I was up for murder of my landlady. “But you should know about the upcoming court case.”

He actually burbled into his tea as a laugh caught him unexpectedly. “Oh, you think I wouldn’t notice something like that? Obviously, you have never been privy to working for a dwarf of the Walking Mountain Tribe. We leave no stone unburied.” Finishing his tea he launched into a full-scale attack of a tin of biscuits. “I am aware of the situation with Nirtha. However did you stand living in that place with her all those years?” He shook his head and shrugged. “Never you mind, I know you didn’t do it. Therefore it has no relevance to my contract with you.” He offered me a biscuit, then polished the rest off. “I’m aware of your bounty hunting positions as well. Also, not relevant to this dig. Therefore, you have done nothing to warrant being shot at.”

I nibbled my biscuit, then washed it down with some tea. “I see.” I was happy he believed me. I did wonder how long he’d been looking into hiring me before he talked to me though.

“Did Covey tell you these things?”

“Some, some. But I am good at finding things out. I needed the best for this dig and you quite simply are the best.”

Now that just raised a whole slew of fears in my head. Me? The best? I was good, but clearly not the best or I wouldn’t have had so much time off between jobs.

“Okay…I don’t know what to say. Thanks?”

His laughter bounced off the jungle surrounding us. “I see that I have more confidence in your skills that you have. Never fear, you will come to see your gifts like I have. And before you start looking at me with the ‘is he a wizard look’ I keep seeing cross your face, no I am not.” He patted some documents on the table between us. “I am, however, a skilled academic. I can read between what was written on all of your previous digs. I don’t wish to be rude, but your previous patrons were all a bit daft. They misread their finds and they misread you.” He sat back in his chair as if he had just solved the dilemma of what happened to the elves.

This day was beginning far too weird. I just wanted to get back to digging and let my odd patron take care of the rest.

“On that note, do you think we should find out who was there?” I vaguely pointed over my shoulder into the jungle. I really didn’t want to go back out there, but at the same time I didn’t want someone sneaking up on me.

“Never fear, the Museum has instituted their own security now. There were questions of interlopers during the shutdown.” He rose and motioned to a pit.

I was not about to tell him that I was probably one of the interlopers and I knew of a few others. So I finished my tea and followed.

I thought this would be a starting dig, surface items only. Clearly I’d been misinformed as to how much work had taken place here previously.

Far more than a simple hole in the ground, the pit was a carefully excavated stairwell leading down to a lower level of a long-lost building. Actually closer inspection revealed it was a stairwell leading to a wall. This was obviously the upper level, the rest of the building being destroyed or worn down by centuries of neglect before being swallowed and buried by the jungle. The first five feet down were clear, and I could take the time to admire the craftsmanship of the stairs.

Even what were probably outdoor stairs leading to the top of a castle wall were decorated. Carving into each step showed the minute detail the elves, or whoever had been living here, put into their work. Most likely the steps were painted in their day as well. Bending down, I thought I could see tiny flecks of color mixed in with the dirt.

“Ah, see? First day on the job and you have made a find.” Thaddeus had gone further down but turned back when I stopped at the steps.

“Sorry. I didn’t find anything. I was just admiring the design, and they look as if they were painted as well.” This was the problem I always had with patrons; they never cared about the little bits, the parts that made up a society. Unless the item could be sold for coin or status, they had no interest. He would wave me off and get me down to finding artifacts.

“That is amazing,” he said as he dropped down to one knee and began sifting through the dirt himself. Slivers of green flickered in the light. “See? You have already made an impact, I went up and down these stairs all day yesterday, and I never noticed this.” He rose to his feet and slapped me low on the back. It was about as high as he could comfortably reach.

Perhaps having an academic as a patron would be a good thing. With the lightest heart I’d had in weeks, I adjusted the glow in my helmet and followed my new patron down the stairs.

Chapter 24

The light from the glows on our helmets created odd and disturbing shadows against the dirt walls that surrounded us. But I felt safer down here than I did up top. I kept telling myself that Thaddeus was right about the museum hiring guards and that they must have captured the person who’d shot at me by now.

The stairwell bottomed out in a wide flat place. Straight ahead was a dark hallway, the door not completely cleared but enough to make me start drooling. Glimmers of gold flashed dirtily in the light. The items were obviously filthy, still buried in the dirt and muck that had cascaded through the ruins eons ago. But still there and calling to me. Now don’t get me wrong, I love wealth as much as the next citizen of Beccia, but what those pieces could be, what they represented to the archeological world— that was where my real motivation lay.

Just as we were stepping forward, a bright blur darted around us, zipping around the newly cleared cavern. I started to swear, clearly one of the girls had given up on their assault on the squirrel family and followed me. Until the tiny being held still long enough for me to make out their color, a clear, shimmering purple. And unlike the overalls usually worn by my girls, this little one wore a tunic made of leaves and vines. She did carry a stout stick that while more primitive than the girls’ pitchforks, still made a similar statement.

Hovering in midair, she seemed torn between Thaddeus and I and the treasure in the room behind her.

“Is she one of yours?”

Someone had told my new boss about the girls.

“No, she is not,” I said. I carefully reached out with an open palm. “Move slowly. Do you have anything sweet on you?”

I expected him to say no, but he carefully felt around in his pocket until he came out with a lump of rock sugar.

“Will this do?”

Taking the sweet, I placed it on my open hand and cooed softly to the faery. Wild faeries were rare, and most scholars, not that there were many who studied the little things, agreed that they might all be domesticated to some degree by now. Tiny, migratory, magical beings were not easy to build theories on. I think most people were just happy when they left.

But this was a wild one—she wasn’t used to being around big ones, as the girls used to call me. She did however have the never-ending need for sweets that apparently was common to all faeries wild or not.

“Here, little one. It’s ok.” I stretched my hand out as far as I could, trying to disassociate the hand with the two tall beings standing before her.

Tiny purple-hued eyes weighed the situation carefully, darting between the candy and myself. She would decide to ignore Thaddeus for the time being. When the glances to the sweet were longer than the ones on me, I knew she made up her mind.

In a streak of color, she zipped forward and snatched the candy. I figured she would flee out of the dig site with her prize, but she just stayed hovering. Keeping her eyes on me, she took an experimental lick of the sugar, quickly followed by a dozen more. Judging by the smile she was fighting to keep off her tiny heart-shaped face, I knew she liked it.

Holding the sweet was difficult with one hand, so maybe that was why she laid down her stick in the palm of my still outstretched hand. Or maybe she felt it was a trade. Whichever reason, she patted the stick gently, then nodded, and chattered something in faery at me. Then clutching the sweet in both tiny hands, she zipped out of the dig site.

“That was amazing.” Thaddeus finally said after a few moments of silence.

I had to agree with him. I know I never thought I’d see a wild one. I folded my fingers around the stick she left in trade. It may seem like just a stick to me, but it meant something to her. I’d keep it and see if my girls could tell me anything from it.

“I didn’t know there were any wild faeries, let alone that they were here. How very exciting.” Thaddeus looked ready to go back out to see if he could find her.

“There aren’t any here, at least as long as I’ve lived in Beccia. My faeries came from a neighboring town; they’ve always lived in cities.”

“What an exciting start to our dig, yes?” Beaming, Thaddeus shook off his interest in the wild faery and resumed leading me into the dig.

Today he just wanted us to work on getting past the doorway. While our tiny visitor could have gotten through, few others could fit. Plus, he wisely agreed with my assessment that no one should enter until the doorway was completely cleared away. While it appeared the doorway had been blocked by the ruins, it could also be booby trapped. More than one careless digger had found out the hard way that whoever the elves were, they left surprises for those who followed. Or some beings that lived in the ruins after them did.

The work was tiring and filthy. This cavern had only been open to the light of day for three days in the last thousand years. And the inside didn’t seem to be very gracious about the outside trying to come in.

The artifacts inside glimmered weakly through the dust and dirt, just enough detail to tease me but not enough to tell me what kind of chamber we were in front of.

Not much had been found about the elvish society. Mostly mismatched art objects, a few wooden masks of what looked like human faces with leaves, vines, and horns on them that may have indicated a nature worshipping culture. But no intact rooms that would give a clear view of their world.

The mud and wood filling the doorway was a combination of the wooden thousand year-old original door and the mud, debris, and trash washed through as the ruins had sunk over the centuries.

The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to carefully clear the way around the doorway.

I finished my first day back in my real job as the sun began to set. Being stuck out in the jungles at night was not a good idea even with increased security. We hadn’t found anything yet, were still days away from entering the room, but it still felt good to get jungle dirt under my nails again.

I’d forgotten about my mysterious archer until Thaddeus and I were halfway back to the front of the ruins.

“Whatever is wrong?” he said turning back to me.

I must have stiffened when I thought about the arrow, then I looked down, surprised to find out I’d actually stopped. On the ground before me lay a bit of black feather. There was no sign of an arrow, and it may have fallen off a passing bird. But just in case it was important, I picked it up and pocketed it before Thaddeus noticed.

I shook my head and resumed following him. Not that a four-foot-high dwarf would be a great deterrent if someone decided to fling more arrows at me, but maybe they’d think twice about it. As long as they hadn’t been shooting at me because of him.

But the gods or someone was on my side, we made it out without any harassment.

“I shall see you in the morning then.” Thaddeus bowed, an old-fashioned courtly gesture that somehow fit even in the jungle ruins.

Saying my good nights to him and the two guards slouching in the front of the dig, I started to go for the Shimmering Dewdrop. Then looked down. I was filthy. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but I had to admit the recent male attention had started to make me change my ways. Not that I would get fancied up, even if I had anything to wear. But I could at least show up clean. Besides, I wanted to leave the wild faery’s stick and the black feather some place safe.

Perhaps I was becoming paranoid, but I refused to think anything that happened was not attached to something else equally disastrous in my life.

The girls weren’t back yet, so I showered and changed, then made sure to leave their tube above my door open. I wasn’t planning on a long night, but you never knew. And having the girls trying to come find me could be a disaster after their last pub appearance.

The pub was busy, but not boisterous.

I was halfway through my dinner when Harlan showed up.

He held up a thick finger to catch the waitress’s eye for a meal and ale, then plopped down in the chair across from me. He never seemed to notice the chairs groaning when he did that.

“I say, how was your first day back at work?” he managed to get out before draining half of his ale in one gulp. The light level of dust coating his clothing and fur told me he’d not gone home first to change. How he and I could do the same job, I had no idea. I looked at a dig and I got dirty.

“Interesting.” I nodded around a bite of food as his eyes went round. “Not the dig, I mean it’s fine. But we were visited by a wild faery.” I wanted to tell him about the arrows too, but not in a crowded pub. If someone was trying to kill me, I didn’t want them hearing about me possibly having part of one of their arrows.

“You mean one of the travelers?” He smiled at the waitress as she put down a heaping pile of food. I’d noticed that Dogmaela wasn’t in. Clearly I wasn’t the only one who had noticed her growing condition. Too bad. I liked that she usually had my back.

I waited until the frowsy blonde sashayed away. “No, a wild one.” I kept my voice low. I suddenly didn’t want anyone other than Harlan to know about her. “She was in the dig checking things out. Completely wild.”

He pursed his lips and began a low purr. “Really? What color?”

“Purple, and yes, really wild. As in, no she can’t come live with you.”

He waved a hand. “I don’t need one of my own. I have yours. It’s just that cute kitten down on 55
^th
is doing her studies in faeries…”

I went back to my ale. “You do not need another wife Harlan.” I didn’t want to spend the night listening to him nattering on about yet another wife. Chatalings often had ten or twelve spouses. Most of his wives had other husbands as well. But he could become obsessive while stalking a new one. Although with all of the weirdness in my life lately, maybe I needed something normal and annoying instead of deadly and annoying.

“Hhrmph.” He ruffled out the fur on his chest. “Just because I wish to help a fellow academic doesn’t mean I am scouting for a new wife. You always think the worst of me.” He held his injured air, staring above my head for a good ten seconds, then dropped back to my face.

“I forgive you however. Do tell, did the faery say anything? I have wondered what a wild one would sound like since they mutilate their language to speak to us.”

I thought about my level of communication with my domesticated faeries and choked in a snort. I knew cheeses that were easier to understand than the faeries most times. “No, she did give me a stick in exchange for some candy. I figured I’d ask the girls about it when they came home.”

“A wild faery war stick?” Harlan’s eyes went round. “You must show me.” He started to get up, but I wasn’t done eating yet.

“It’s a stick. About three inches long from what I’m sure is a common local tree. A stick, Harlan. I’m not skipping dinner for a stick.” I looked around for the waitress. I couldn’t call her name, she must be new. “And I need at least two more ales.”

Harlan got excited about the oddest things some times. He rattled on about the nuances of faery war sticks for a good two minutes before I finally spotted the waitress and flagged her down.

“Yes, well, isn’t that fascinating.” I said after a long pull on my fresh glass of ale. “But I have something even more interesting, since we’re talking about faeries. Alric has done something to them to make them adore him. And I don’t even think he gave them sugar.”

Having successfully captured Harlan’s attention, I briefly recounted an edited version of the previous night. I didn’t mention the body however, nor what I had been doing prior to the finding of the body. If he knew I’d almost slept with the man he’d tried to set me up with I’d never hear the end of it.

Talking to Harlan reminded me that I also needed to update Covey. My original intention had been to try and forget about it all for a few days. Go to work every morning, lead a normal life. But the arrow today told me that wasn’t going to happen.

“So they obey him? Without sweets?” The intent look on his feline face told me I might have made an error in telling Harlan about the girls’ new crush. But he didn’t seem to be jealous, it was more like he was envying a gift.

“Just how much time have you been spending with that kitten down on 55
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Street?” Harlan loved the faeries, but he’d never been this interested in them before.

“Not much, you are always thinking the worst of people, Taryn.” He didn’t even bother with a ruffled fur this time. “I just think it’s curious that he could do that. Especially after the way they had been reacting to him. And obviously you think so too or you wouldn’t have told me.” He took a self-satisfied sip of his light ale.