Greatshadow (29 page)

Aurora laughed.

“It’s not funny,” said Infidel.

Aurora shook her head, and wiped a tear from her cheek. “No,” she said, gasping for air. “I know. It’s not. I haven’t seen another female of my species for twenty years. I’m not going to judge anyone for feeling sexually frustrated. The dreams I’ve had...”

“You mean male,” said Infidel.

“Hmm?”

“You said you hadn’t seen another female. But it wouldn’t do you any good if you had.”

“Ah,” said Aurora. She pressed her lips together. “This is awkward. You see, uh, the priesthood, it’s all female, and, um, sexual release is a big part of fertility ceremonies, so, we spend a lot of time engaged in—”

“I don’t think I need to hear more,” said Infidel, holding up her hands.

I sort of hoped Aurora would at least finish her sentence. I was to be disappointed. She changed the subject back to the issue at hand.

“So, you’ve got a sex-crazed ex-boyfriend in charge of the dragon hunt. What about the Truthspeaker?”

“He hasn’t seen through the disguise. Relic said he’s distracting the priest. Don’t ask me to explain, I still haven’t figured out all of that weirdo’s powers. But, anyway, if the priest finds me out, apparently he has orders to capture me instead of killing me outright.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

“Not really. If the Truthspeaker gives me grief, I’ll probably just twist his head off. I’m not sure that Tower’s going to be quite as forgiving after that. And, if I twist Tower’s head off, I’m suddenly short on candidates to father my daughter.”

“Do you want a child?” asked Aurora.

“Until the Black Swan mentioned it, I hadn’t wasted any time thinking about motherhood,” said Infidel. “Now... I mean, if it’s, you know, fate... then maybe I wouldn’t be terrible at it.”

Aurora looked skeptical.

“I know,” said Infidel, shaking her head. “I mean, it’s hard to imagine making the jump from bounty-hunter and tomb-looter to breast-feeder and diaper-changer. The person I’ve been would be a lousy mother. But, the whole purpose of this dragon hunt, for me, is to make a new life. And there are... there are nurturing instincts I have that I’ve never really explored. I just... maybe I should keep an open mind.”

Aurora nodded, but didn’t ask any follow-up questions. Instead she said, “Speaking of the dragon hunt, it’s worth noting that of twelve would-be dragon slayers, the three we’ve lost have all been put out of action by other team members.”

“Technically, Blade was killed by a pygmy deadfall.”

“Blade was killed by the damn Truthspeaker,” grumbled Aurora.

Infidel nodded. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that our dragon hunt is going to be over before it even begins if we kill each other before Greatshadow gets a shot.”

“We won’t all kill each other,” said Infidel. “I’ve got your back. You’ve got mine. And I think we can count on the Goons to side with us.”

“Don’t fool yourself,” said Aurora. “Menagerie’s willing to mess around with stuff that’s not spelled out in his contract, like keeping your secret, but if it comes down to a fight between us and the Truthspeaker, he’s being paid to protect the priest.”

Infidel nodded. “At least you and I are a team,” she said.

“Sure,” said Aurora. “As long as you don’t try to protect the future father of your child if he does have the sacred harpoon.”

Infidel nodded, but she was no longer looking directly at the ogress. Her gaze was once more unfocused; I could practically hear her thoughts churning. As Aurora turned away, Infidel stared off into the distance.

Straight at me. Straight through me.

Haunted.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SIZZLE

I
’D HEARD ALL
I could stomach about finger-sucking and motherhood, so I decided to get back to the job and watch Lord Tower. I floated up to his tree house. While I hesitate to say that anything about being dead is fun, freedom from gravity is not without advantages. I drifted through his floor and found him flat on his back, eyes wide open, staring at the leaves above him. He looked as if he was unlikely to get any sleep, and not just because Father Ver was snoring. Tower didn’t look all that happy for a man who had just kissed the woman he’d obsessed about for fifteen years.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, as tears welled in his eyes. “Forgive me.”

He swallowed down his emotions with a loud, snotty snort, then turned onto his side, hugging the thin blanket draped over him.

I sighed. I hated the guy, but I understood what he was going through. What if I’d thrown myself at Infidel years ago and confessed everything I felt for her? She’d said a lot of nice things about me since my death, but what if she’d reacted with the same lukewarm confusion Tower had received? I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep either.

Angry for feeling any sympathy, and rapidly tiring of the Truthspeaker’s snoring, I drifted back toward Relic to tell him about the encounter. With any luck, he was fast asleep and I’d wake him.

As I air-walked back across the gap to the main platform, my eye was caught by movement on the tree where the Goons were staying. I moved closer. In the shadows, I could make out Menagerie. He had a row of small glass vials laid out before him as he studied the faint outline of a bat on his inner thigh. A drop of black ink glistened on a needle held in his right hand. His lips were pressed tightly together as he jabbed the bat in rapid, repeated motions. On his left forearm, a tiger glistened with fresh black ink. I was curious how he’d ever reach the faded wolf tattoos on the small of his back, but I didn’t get the chance to find out.

As Menagerie concentrated, oblivious to the world around him, I noticed Reeker peek at him from beneath his blanket. Deciding that Menagerie wasn’t watching, Reeker rolled slowly to the edge of the platform and carefully lowered himself down to the woven vine ladder.

If he hadn’t been so quiet, I’d have assumed he was going down to use the bathroom. But, he kept looking over his shoulder, and was taking care not to make a sound. He’d never struck me as someone who worried about disturbing other people’s sleep. Suspicious, I drifted closer to him, though not too close. Even though my sense of smell was muted as a ghost, I knew to keep several arm lengths between us.

Reeker reached the forest floor and stealthily crept toward the edge of the village. He went to the far side of a huge tree trunk and pressed his back to the bark. He took one more look around, then crouched and pulled out a small leather pouch, placing it on his knee. Quickly he produced a small rectangle of paper, flattened it out, then placed a large pinch of tobacco in the center. He glanced off to his right, then his left, as he rolled the paper into an untidy tube.

Finally, satisfied that he was truly alone, he pulled a wooden match out of the pouch. He ignited the tip with a quick flick of his thumbnail. A brief breath of sulfur scented the air. He brought the tiny flame to the cigarette and puffed once, twice, three times, firing it to a bright cherry ember.

He shook the match to snuff it. The small fire kept burning.

He shook it again, harder. Still, it didn’t go out.

He frowned, staring at the miniscule blaze as it sputtered down the wooden dowel, nearing his finger and thumb. He reached out with his free hand, and closed his forefinger and thumb upon the feeble flare to be done with it.

He screamed. A sizzle sounded from his fingers as white tendrils of smoke spun into the air. A yellow-orange flame danced over his hairy knuckles. He waved his hand frantically, crying, “Yowowowow!” as the fire grew brighter.

Now, his sleeve was on fire. He dropped and rolled on the forest floor. The ground was damp, but his efforts only stoked the flames to greater heights. In a matter of seconds, his clothes were engulfed. His screams grew ever louder.

With a sudden
whoosh
, Lord Tower shot down from the sky. He was fully enveloped in his armor; there was no way he’d had time to put it on in any ordinary way. The Gloryhammer turned night into day as the knight flashed toward Reeker. He grabbed the flailing skunk-man by the ankle, then streaked off in the direction of the stream. I followed at the speed of thought as he threw Reeker into the pool where Infidel had bathed. Reeker vanished beneath the surface with a loud hiss and a mushroom cloud of steam.

Tower spun around. There were flames dancing on the forest floor where Reeker had rolled. They flared higher and higher, the ground crackling and whistling as dampness boiled away. Tower gripped his Gloryhammer with both hands as the flames took on a decidedly serpentine form. At first, I thought a vine was on fire, curling from the heat. Then, I realized I was looking at a dragon — a small drake, no taller than a man, made of pure flame. It reared up on its blazing legs and sucked in air. Tower charged as the beast spewed a cone of flame. The fire engulfed the knight as he swung his enchanted hammer with a grunt. The weapon went right through the flame-beast.

“I’m on it!” shouted Aurora, running toward the conflagration with her hands outstretched. Snowflakes the size of saucers began to fall, vaporizing as they hit the beast with a staccato
sss sss sss
. Aurora was iced up and took a swing at the fire-dragon with her frozen gauntlet. She spun around, off balance, as her punch failed to connect. There was nothing solid about the beast to hit.

The fire seemed to laugh as it blazed brighter. Aurora raised her arm to cover her eyes as she stumbled back, her armor cracking.

Suddenly, Infidel dropped straight down toward the drake, holding an outstretched blanket. The fluttering edges engulfed the small dragon as she landed, dimming the light. The beast screamed as sparks swirled around the edges.

Off to one corner, there was a tiny remnant of flame curling around a small twig, no bigger than a cockroach. It leapt to a stick, and flashed into a tiny dragon the size of a mouse, then leapt again toward a fallen branch to grow as big as a cat.

Tower charged toward it, trying to stomp it beneath his gleaming boots, but the fire-cat darted away, burning leaves and twigs as it grew to the size of a dog. Aurora pointed both hands at the ground and the forest debris it needed to grow was suddenly coated in ice. The creature darted back toward Infidel, stretching its neck out to nip the edge of the blanket. Infidel jumped back with a yelp as the cloth flared; in the blink of an eye, the creature was man-sized once more.

“You guys are a frickin’ joke,” grumbled a voice from the shadows. The creature craned its blazing neck to discover Zetetic standing directly behind it, hiking up his tattered robes. The Deceiver grumbled, “I can piss out a fire no bigger than this.”

The creature roared toward him, reaching out with claws of flame.

The Deceiver began to pee.

The creature hissed, drawing back. It writhed as streams of urine spattered the ground where it stood. The flames flickered and danced, reaching for new fuel, but the Deceiver kept a steady aim and soon the ground around it was drenched. Fifteen seconds later, the flame flickered out, and the last pale red ember went black.

Aurora demurely covered her eyes as Zetetic stuffed his manhood back into the briefs he wore beneath his robe.

“Good job,” said Tower, his eyes on the Deceiver’s face. “Fast thinking.”

“I’m sure it seemed fast to
you
,” said Zetetic. He dropped to one knee, studying the blackened ground. His eyes flickered over it like he was reading a map. He reached out and picked up a twisted black twig a few inches in length, right where Reeker had first been standing. He studied it closely, then asked, “Which idiot lit the match?”

“The half-seed!” exclaimed Lord Tower. He turned and bounded through the forest, his armor clanging. Up above, there were a hundred voices jabbering; we’d probably awakened every pygmy in a five-mile radius.

Tower leapt into the pool with a splash, fishing around in the waist deep water with his gauntlets. He jerked upright suddenly, pulling a limp, blackened form back into the air.

Reeker wasn’t moving. His hair was completely burned away; his scalp was raw and red, with charred black flesh peeling away from the bone in places. Tower laid him on the stone by the pool. He pressed on the skunk-man’s chest, forcing out a fountain of water.

Menagerie rushed onto the scene, with No-Face trailing behind him. He didn’t pause to ask what had happened. He pushed Tower aside and dropped his ear to his friend’s chest. His brow knitted as he listened. Then, he jerked his head away and placed his mouth on Reeker’s lips. Reeker’s belly rose as Menagerie blew breath into him.

“Gluh,” said No-Face, sadly.

Menagerie continued to work, breathing in air, then pushing it out, pausing between breathes to listen to the chest.

“Is there a heartbeat?” Aurora asked.

Menagerie shook his head.

“I can’t believe he’s dead,” said Aurora, sounding sadder than I would have expected.

The Deceiver looked down at Reeker’s charred form and said, “Why not? He’s not breathing, there’s no heartbeat, his skin looks like charcoal. It’s not a difficult diagnosis.”

Menagerie looked at the Deceiver as if he was ready to pounce on the man. Then, his body slackened, and he said, in a soft voice, “Fix him. Please.”