The Grimjinx Rebellion (14 page)

22

Betrayed

“Beware the lesson that nets a copperbit but costs a silvernib.”

—Allia Grimjinx, master forger of Korrin Province

O
ver the next few days, Da barely got any sleep. He knew the raid on Umbramore had to occur by month's end when the next tribute was due. Late into the night, he consulted feverishly with anyone in the village who'd ever spent time in the prison. Together, they drew up crude blueprints and formed a plan of attack. It wouldn't be long now.

Uncle Garax and his assistants still hadn't left town. Long after they'd received their free meal, the Ghostfire house remained parked in the square. Although food was in short supply, most of the villagers didn't mind sharing with the “monster hunters.” Ghostfire's presence made people feel safe. Uncle Garax soaked it all up. He loved being the center of attention.

I kept a closer eye on the Dowager. Part of me hoped that Aubrin's talk of rebellion had sunk in and that whenever she sat quietly, she was really thinking of ways to lead a revolt. I had a feeling that once we got Ma out of prison, the Dowager wouldn't leave the Provinces with us. The land was her birthright. But any plans she had, she kept quiet.

Knowing we'd be facing Umbramore's magical defenses, I stocked up on magic-resistant plants. It was hard to say if they'd help, but they certainly couldn't hurt. On our way to collect plants one day, Aubrin and I found Da pounding on the door of the Ghostfire house.

“Something wrong, Da?” I asked.

Da put his hands on his hips. “Have you seen your uncle? It occurred to me that we could use the Ghostfire house to transport any sick prisoners away from Umbramore. I wanted to run the idea by him.”

Aubrin shrugged. “Maybe he's off hunting monsters.”

Da snorted. “Somebody told me he borrowed a mang and rode it out of the village. Where do you suppose he got to?”

“He's probably just getting ready for his next scam,” I said. “Come on, Jinxface, let's have a look around.”

Slagbog could be walked in under fifteen minutes and we covered it well. Uncle Garax wasn't in the village. We were about report back to Da when we spotted two familiar, hulking frames lumber their way into the tavern.

“Let's see if Uncle Garax's assistants know where he is,” I said.

“I thought they didn't have any money,” Aubrin said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. There was that to look into as well. I hoped they weren't planning on stealing their drinks. Normally, as a Grimjinx, this would be completely acceptable. But we had too much to lose these days. A brouhaha could attract the Palatinate.

It was a wonder the tavern was even open. Times were so hard that the only beverages came from two bottles on the back counter filled with more water than ashwine. As we walked in, Gandrick, the par-Goblin tavern owner, was arguing with Beard and Bald.

“Credit?” Gandrick shrieked. “I don't give anyone credit. Cash only.”

“Reward come soon,” Beard said in a low, slow voice. “Drinks now.”

Gandrick frowned. “Reward? What reward? Look, you pay
now
or no drinks.”

“Everything okay, Gandrick?” I asked. Seeing me, Beard and Bald quickly turned to face the other way. I got the idea they thought that if they couldn't see me, I couldn't see them.

“Nothing I can't handle,” the par-Goblin said before returning to watering down the ashwine.

“Hey,” I said, “you two seen Uncle Garax?”

They didn't say a word. They just pulled their arms in tighter to their bodies, like they were trying to make themselves smaller.

“Look, he's not in trouble. We just want to ask him if we can use—”

I stopped.
Reward
. They'd said they were going to pay for the drinks once their reward came. Suddenly, I knew where Uncle Garax had gone.

I ran from the tavern. Outside, Aubrin flashed me a quizzical look.

“Jaxter, what's—?”

I snatched her by the wrist and pulled her with me as we ran home. Inside, we found Da chopping vegetables in the kitchen, preparing for dinner.

“There you are,” Da said. “I'm making grubslush casserole. Go grab the Dowager and Callie and we'll—”

“We have to go!” I said. “Uncle Garax sold us out. He's telling the Palatinate where we are for the reward.”

Da looked up sharply. “What?”

“His goons are out spending money they don't have yet,” I said. “They said they're expecting a reward. We don't have much time.”

We didn't have
any
time. Just then, we heard the familiar
crack
of a quickjump spell. I peeked outside and saw two bloodreavers descend from the glowing circle above the town square. Next, two figures floated gently down onto the scaffolding below. The first was Uncle Garax, head bowed humbly. The second was a tall, lean Sentinel. His masked face scanned the village as those nearby cowered. The Sentinel raised his hand, holding a glowing spellsphere, and got right to the point.

“Bring me the Grimjinxes!”

23

Danger in the Swamp

“An ugly nose breathes just the same.”

—Ancient par-Goblin proverb

D
a didn't think twice. He dropped his knife and opened a cupboard. From within, he pulled two of the emergency packs he kept in case we needed to make a fast getaway. Before I could utter a word, he thrust the packs into my hands.

“Take your sister,” he said, pointing to the back door.

“What about you?” Aubrin asked.

“I have to get the Dowager and Callie,” Da said. “But you need to leave now. Go north. Wait at the far edge of the swamp near the valley. If we haven't joined you in one hour—”

“—we'll head to Cindervale to find Nanni,” I finished.

Da nodded, then ducked outside, hiding behind the row of mud huts on his way to the Dowager's house.

I grabbed a map. “I just hope Nanni hasn't left Cindervale yet,” I said.

“No,” Aubrin said, “we need to find the assassin-monks.” Before I could protest, she added, “They're the only ones who can tell us what the message means. And we'll never know if they work for the Palatinate unless we try. Trust me.”

I didn't have much choice. For all I knew, the arrival of the Sentinel was one more sign that my death was imminent. The sooner we got that message translated and delivered to Eaj, the better.

I gripped Tree Bag tightly and ushered Aubrin through the back door. We could hear people turning out into the streets as the Sentinel summoned all Slagbog to the square. Unfortunately, the square stood between us and the way out of town. Holding hands, we crouched behind an empty wagon, waiting for our chance to bolt.

“You are harboring fugitives,” the Sentinel's deep voice boomed. “You will immediately turn the Grimjinx family over to me.”

A murmur rippled through the assembled villagers. People looked around, as if expecting to see someone wearing a sign around their neck saying “I am a Grimjinx.” Oberax pushed her way to the front of the crowd. “I'm very careful about the people I let live in Slagbog. If the Grimjinxes were here, I'd know about it.”

A bolt of lightning shot from the spellsphere, splitting a nearby everember tree.

“You will
all
be arrested if the Grimjinx family isn't brought to me . . . now!” The Sentinel's masked face scanned the crowd. He nudged Uncle Garax. “Where are they?”

“They were here this morning, your most powerful magicalness,” Garax said. “I can take you to their house.”

But before Uncle Garax could move, one of the bloodreavers threw back its head and bellowed in that all-too-familiar screech. The second bloodreaver mirrored the first and soon both were growling and thrashing about. Finally, the eyes of both bloodreavers rested on the wagon where Aubrin and I were hiding.

Aubrin gripped my arm. “Jaxter, did you drink your tea today?”

Oh, zoc.

“It's too late for me,” I told her. “They've got my scent. Get to the valley. Da will be waiting there.”

I stepped from our hiding place, arms raised in the air, and walked slowly toward the square.

“Oya!” I called out. “Looking for a Grimjinx?”

Slagbog issued a collective gasp. Uncle Garax looked relieved. “Yep. That's one of 'em. Want me to nab him for you?”

“Good luck with that,” I muttered to myself. Head down, I ran through Slagbog toward the swamp.

Pop! Behind me, I heard the bloodreavers vanish. A second later, they appeared in a cloud of smoke on the roof of an adjacent mud hut. I dashed side to side, trying to throw them off. The bloodreavers kept pace, leaping from roof to roof in pursuit. Chunks of thatch rained down as their claws dug in for purchase.

Ahead, the village opened up into the thick swamp beyond. If I could make it there, I had a chance of losing them in the scumpits. I also had a chance of being swallowed by the scumpits, but I couldn't worry about that. I had to evade them just long enough for Aubrin to get away.

But the bloodreavers were even faster than I remembered. No matter how hard I ran or changed directions, they were closing in. I charged past the last mud hut on the village's border. The ground beneath my feet became marsh. Swamp water filled my boots.

True to form, that's when my foot snagged a tree root.

I fell face-first into the muck, just as one of the bloodreavers jumped. The beast overshot and got tangled in the slimy vines that hung between the swamp trees.

I grabbed at the tree to pull myself up. Pain shot through my hand. Wiping the mud from my eyes, I found pinpricks of blood all over my palm. I'd wrapped my hand around a thatch of vexbriar. My head spun. The poison from the vexbriar's thorns was already going to work. I'd be unconscious within minutes. Depending on how much poison I'd absorbed, I could be dead shortly thereafter.

The second bloodreaver, seeing me struggle to move, leaped in the air and came down on top of me.

But the instant we made contact, the bloodreaver vanished. There was a puff of black smoke as multicolored sparks fell into the swamp water and sizzled away.

I craned my neck. I knew bloodreavers could disappear in one place and reappear close by to surprise their prey. But why do that when it had me? And why wasn't it reappearing?

I hauled myself out of the mud, stumbled forward on wobbly legs, and hid behind an everember tree. If I could find a bit of lorris—a fungus that was fairly plentiful in the swamp—it would counteract the poison. I just needed time.

Which I didn't have.

The first bloodreaver finally freed itself from the mossy vines and stalked about loudly. I held my breath, waiting for the scent of my blood to betray me.

“Over here!”

Aubrin's squeaky voice carried on a gentle breeze. I peeked out and saw her in the distance, waving at the bloodreaver. The creature looked her way, raised each of its four arms, and screeched. Aubrin turned and ran, the bloodreaver quickly following.

I jumped up and nearly fell over, dizzy from the poison. But I couldn't let the bloodreaver get her. “It's me you want!” I yelled, stepping out.

The bloodreaver stopped. I held up my bloody hand. “Yeah, you can smell me, right? I'm the one.”

“Jaxter—”

“Go!” I yelled as the bloodreaver made up its mind and charged me. “Find the assassin-monks!” She hesitated, then ran. I turned and headed for my last hope: the scumpits.

But I'd underestimated how much the poison was slowing me down. I could barely move and, in seconds, the bloodreaver was on me. I felt its talons grip my arm and—
poof!
Black smoke and rainbow-colored sparks rained down.

My ears filled with my own heaving breaths and pounding blood. What was going on? The bloodreavers had me. Why would they pounce and then vanish?

The vexbriar's poison coursed through my veins. My breath grew short. I stumbled feverishly, searching for lorris.

When my legs finally gave out, I fell against a mound of rocks, not far from the swamp's edge. I looked down into the valley just beyond. Sitting there, among the mokka trees, was a tall, octagon-shaped tower of white stone. It had never been there before.

I drew a feeble breath. Delirious, I thought I saw several shadowy figures running up the side of the valley toward me. I heard what I thought was Aubrin's voice but when I turned to look, I saw the blurry outline of someone tall. Did this person have horns?

I thought I heard Aubrin say, “We're here, Jaxter.”

There were a lot of things I thought I saw and heard. Hard to say which were real and which were imagined. Darkness took me just then.