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A few more patrons made it past the troll and out the door.

The faeries rose out of my hand and hovered in midair between the troll and the bar. If they were worried about the troll they didn’t show it. They started singing.

Or what they considered singing and the rest of the world considered someone torturing a wounded animal. Amara finally collapsed, sobbing, onto the bar, and Foxy rushed toward her.

For a second I felt the sluggishness slide into my body again as the spell tried to reassert itself. Then the girls turned up the volume and really sang at full force. From the looks on the faces of the few remaining patrons, many were debating if this was better than being torn apart by a zombie troll.

But the fact they could now at least flee the building helped make up their minds. Within a minute the only ones left were me, Foxy, Amara, the unconscious barmaid, and the zombie troll. And three very enthusiastically singing faeries.

The troll tipped his head as if something was bugging his ears. Then he stopped his forward march and grabbed both ears. And instant later he crumbled to the ground, twitched a few times, then lay still.

“Girls, that’s enough.” I tried to get the faeries’ attention, but they were fully enjoying their chance to sing. “Girls, enough!” I tried grabbing them but they flew just over my head. Finally Foxy tossed me some sugar cubes. “Sweets!”

The jabbing pain in my head abated as they stopped singing to cram their mouths full of sugar.

Foxy built a little mound of sugar cubes on the bar and I lured the faeries there. They looked far too busy shoving sugar in their mouths to think about starting their singing again.

The silence was almost painful. Not as painful as the high-pitched screaming and equally high-pitched plus horribly off-pitch singing that followed, but still weird. Or maybe it was just that now I could feel my ears throb.

“Anyone have any idea what just happened?” I started walking to the dead troll, but picked up a heavy chair along the way. If that thing got up again I was going to smash his head to pulp with the chair. So far it hadn’t moved.

I got far closer to the zombie troll than I was ever admitting next time I told this story. His skin had been glistening when he was moving, but it was now dull and gray. The odd light in his open eyes was gone and the film of death obscured whatever had been there. I poked his arm with the chair and the flesh dented, oozed, and didn’t un-dent when I removed it.

“I don’t think it’s getting back up, but since I don’t know anything about zombies, I have no idea if that’s really the case.” I kept my chair but managed to almost turn my back on the body. I then dragged Lehua over a few feet so she wouldn’t wake up next to that thing.

After supplying enough sugar to brain-numb an army of faeries, Foxy pulled Amara off the bar and was hugging her tightly.

“Whoever did it would have to be nearby.” She looked almost embarrassed that she knew that. “Necromancer spells have a very short distance. But that could have been anyone in the pub or a building next to here.”

The best way to get her to keep talking was to not react to the fact that I was a bit disturbed she knew about death mages. I put down my chair and walked back to the bar. “So they don’t need line of sight?” I really doubted anyone talented enough to raise a zombie troll would be stupid enough to trap themselves in the building with them.

She shook her head. “No, just a close physical distance. But that other spell you were all under….” She shuddered and rubbed her arms. “Were you frozen? No one was moving.”

“It was more like I didn’t want to move. Part of me knew I should, but I didn’t feel like I had the energy to do anything but sit there.”

Foxy nodded. “Aye, myself as well. Just couldn’t be bothered to move. But why didn’t Amara and Lehua have the same problem?”

Amara frowned and reluctantly removed Foxy’s arm from her shoulders. “Let me see something.” She closed her eyes and hummed. The faeries all looked up from their sugar gorge suddenly, then realizing it was her, went back to feeding.

Amara was silent a moment longer, then opened her eyes. “It tastes vile, but whoever raised the troll also cast a spell on it beyond the animation spell. I couldn’t feel it completely, but you all probably would have sat there until it killed you. Most of those spells are one shots. It probably went off when he came in the door.”

Which explained why she and Lehua weren’t hit. I knew she’d probably shut down if I asked this, but hopefully I could get more information from Alric and the others if need be.

“How do you know all of this?” I was pretty sure she couldn’t be the necromancer. Dryads are life creatures, and trying to create a death spell would most likely destroy them before they even got half-way through.

She looked at Foxy, and when he nodded, turned back to me. “My former keeper was a dabbler in the dark arts. Or wanted to be. I knew how this worked in theory because he had me do research. But I don’t see how he could have come so far as this in the time since I left.” Foxy enveloped her again.

But that didn’t exclude her from being involved of her own will in my book. But there was always the chance she was telling the truth, and her keeper, as she called him, had been far more advanced in his pursuits than he’d let her in on.

“Argh! Die, you monster, die! ” Our pensive thoughts were shattered by Lehua regaining consciousness, grabbing a pair of sturdy chairs, and wailing on the zombie troll body.

Unfortunately, since that body was no longer animated it was falling back into its decaying form and she was flinging zombie parts all over the pub.

I made sure I was out of flying zombie goo range, but there was no way I was going to try and control a furious half-giant.

Foxy gave Amara one final squeeze and went out for the barmaid. “Easy there, Lehua. It’s dead, again. The spell is gone. It can’t be hurting no one no more.” He grabbed first one chair than the other out of her hands. “It’s over.”

Lehua looked up at him, then down at the very nasty, and now starting to stink, body. She nodded once, kicked it hard in the side, and then marched off into the kitchen to clean up. One thing about half-giants, they were pretty damn stoic.

The door swung open and Foxy started to shoo the person off, then he got a better look as he stepped in. Glorinal.

Chapter Twenty

“Aye, you’re a sight for these eyes, lad. Someone has been playing games with the afterlife,” Foxy said as he pointed to the rapidly disintegrating body of goo and bones on the floor.

“Are all of you all right?” Glorinal looked to the three of us, and a brief look of anger flashed across his fine features. Unlike Alric, Glorinal didn’t take it lightly when people threatened those he liked. “Everyone raced out of here and I feared the worst. No one would tell me what had happened.”

“That happened.” I stepped forward and pointed at the pile of bones. I was extra glad none of the zombie goo had gotten on me during Lehua’s attack. “Someone animated him, sent him in here, and spelled us to freeze.”

Glorinal stepped around the puddle that was formerly a troll and we all stepped back toward the bar and Amara. “A necromancer? Here? We’ve heard of them in my homeland, but I thought they had all been killed.” He looked around the relatively unscathed pub. “A spell and a zombie? How did you survive?”

I nodded toward Amara and the trio of sugar-filled faeries collapsed on the bar. “Apparently, the walking dead have issues with certain pitches. Her screaming slowed him down, and the faeries’ singing broke the spell—both of them actually. I knew it had to be good for something. It sounds like it raises the dead, but it actually puts them back under.”

Glorinal nodded to Amara who ducked under Foxy’s arm, then turned back to the bar. “Are the faeries okay? I would hate to think anything happened to such masterful guardians of this town.” He approached them just as Crusty Bucket let out a huge belch and flopped back over Garbage Blossom who proceeded to foist her over to Leaf Grub.

“Naw, they’re fine. Going to have a sugar hangover tomorrow like no one’s business, but they’re fine. Not much can hurt a faery.” I felt a twinge as I thought of the possibly dying little one back at my home.

Glorinal stood by them, gently rubbing their tummies. It was a lovely tableau, handsome elf bonding with three faeries who had just saved countless lives. One ruined by a foul odor. As the spell vanished, so did what was holding back the dead stench.

“Umm, we need to get rid of him. For good this time.” Just as I spoke both barmaids came out. Merliker must have just come on shift and come in through the kitchen as she was just tying her apron.

Both of them had huge hatchets, buckets, and a tarp. “We will make sure this thing does not return.” Lehua swung back to give the body another kick, then thought better of it and stopped. “We do need the shovel.” Merliker nodded, hefted the hatchet over her shoulder, and marched back into the kitchen.

Foxy let go of Amara and ambled over. “Ya not be thinking of taking it apart here, are ye?”

The look Lehua gave him sent him slinking back to the safety of Amara’s arms.

“I may have a thick head, but I’m not being as daft as that.” She laid the tarp next to the body. “We’ll be moving it out toward the back and taking it apart.”

“Aye, a few miles of distance between his parts might make it a bit harder for him to come back. Don’t you fear, Mistress, we’ll make sure of that.” Merliker came back from the kitchen with a large garden shovel.

Glorinal looked up from petting the faeries. “Some of my simpler magics have returned to me sooner than I thought. Let me first cast for any other spells. Maybe I can tell something about who did this and if there’s any other magic still attached. We don’t want any nasty surprises.”

I was glad his magic was coming back quickly, seeing Alric made me realize that losing magic would be like losing a limb. But I wasn’t sure what he thought a pile of dripping bones could do, or why he thought we hadn’t already had a very nasty surprise, but I wasn’t going to say that. There was still a chance he could become my next boyfriend.

At a nod from Lehua, he walked over to the zombie goo, closed his eyes, and held out both hands. “Aslaim, aliendia, throdos!” A slight glow came from the middle of the pile of bones, then faded.

He opened his eyes and nodded. “It’s safe now. There was still a lingering spell attached, but I neutralized it.” He walked to the bar. “Could I trouble you for some ale? That was unnerving business.” Foxy silently poured him a glass and he downed it almost in one gulp.

“Was there something else?” I’d seen him face down that same troll when it was alive and look less upset than he did right now.

He held out his glass, Foxy refilled it, and he downed only half this time. “Aye, the creature behind this foul deed. I saw his image as I searched the body. Something I laughed at yesterday—an elven lord. One of them at least survived the Breaking and recently spelled the body.”

My mouth went dry. I only knew one elven lord, and he couldn’t raise a fly right now. “How recently?” I tried to keep my rising tension out of my voice.

“The last hour. He was near here, and he set loose this monster within the hour.”

I let relief flow through me. I didn’t really think it had been Alric. He and I didn’t have a great history but I had a hard time thinking he would sic a zombie on me and an entire pub. But then the tension came back. That meant there was a second elven lord running around. My money was on the cloaked murderer from the dig site.

None of which I could disclose to Glorinal. Nice way to start a relationship.

I felt a touch at my elbow. “Are you all right, my lady?” Those amazing silver eyes were full of concern. “You look ill.”

I shoved aside all the thoughts about Alric and this mysterious third elf, and forced a smile. Actually, all I needed to do was look at Glorinal for a few seconds and the smile wasn’t forced at all.

“I’m fine, now. It was a close call there though, and even more so now that you found there were additional spells cast on that body. Are you sure about what you saw? I thought you said the elven lords all died out?” Mostly I just wanted to keep talking to him. After all, I had living proof in my home that the elven lords were still alive, kicking, and annoying people.

We stared at each other for a few moments, then he shook his head and flashed an embarrassed grin. “It’s so easy to get lost in your eyes, Taryn.” His smile fell. “But yes, I am sure of what I saw, an elven lord with white-blond hair, and sharp, cruel green eyes. There was nothing but malice there.”

That tension started its way back up my neck again. “But don’t they all look like that? I sort of got the idea they were all blond and beautiful.”

Glorinal might not be blond, but he was certainly beautiful, even more so when he smiled. Which he still wasn’t doing at this point. “No, the myths all said that, and they almost all have lighter hair and green or blue eyes. But they are a genetic offshoot of the rest of the eleven race so they still have variances. And the markings on the face are unique to each individual.” He reached over the bar to where Foxy kept paper and pencil for bar tabs. “Let me show you.”

He was blocking his drawing, but the quick and sure movements told me he knew how to draw. There was no way that it could have been Alric since I knew for a fact he had no power.

Or did I? I only had his word for it after all. What if all of this was a big con on his part? He’d admitted he would do whatever he needed to help his people. Could he go this far? But why would he run around showing me, Harlan, and Covey who and what he really was? It wasn’t that I thought Alric incapable of lying—he’d shown great skill at that—but there was always a reason. And he had none that I could think of for pretending he was without magic.

The barmaids had gotten all of the zombie parts onto the tarp and in the buckets. Most of the body was still intact but the looks on their faces as they dragged it out the door told me that wasn’t going to be the case for too much longer.

“This image will haunt me for some time, but not as much as it would have if you had been injured by that monster.” Glorinal turned the sketch he had made back to me, just as I was taking a sip of cider. The pain of trying to choke down the sip instead of spitting it in his face left me coughing and sputtering.

It was Alric. The look in the eyes was a flat, cruel look I’d never seen before, but it was him. The square jaw, the high cheekbones, the lips that weren’t too full, but generous when he smiled, the wide tipped up eyes. Human or elf, I knew that face. And, while I hadn’t studied them in detail, the faint markings on the left side looked like his.

How in the hell had Glorinal seen Alric? As annoying as he could be, I really had a hard time thinking Alric could be lying at this level, and I really couldn’t see him as a necromancer.

“Could someone have disguised what they look like in the spell?”

Glorinal finished off his ale, then held it out for another one from Foxy. “No, that wasn’t something the spell caster wanted us to see. It was a byproduct of his spells.”

Foxy filled Glorinal’s glass, then leaned over to look at the drawing. I leaned forward to grab some nuts and knocked my cider glass over which conveniently spilled all over the drawing.

Foxy didn’t know Alric was alive, but until I knew for certain that Alric was really the monster behind this attack, I wasn’t going to let anyone think he was. The face was so much like Alric’s human glamoured one that anyone who knew him would immediately know that drawing was related to him.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” I grabbed the drawing and in trying to supposedly dry it off, muddled it even further. “I ruined it.”

Glorinal shrugged and grabbed another paper. I was about to try and figure out a way to destroy all of the paper, when Foxy waved him off. “Don’t you be worrying about that, I think I’d spot an elven lord if he came in here. It’s still a nice afternoon, you two should go for a walk or something, come back after I’ve cleaned up and we’ll have a nice dinner for you. Won’t we, Amara?”

Amara had been looking a bit shell-shocked, but perked up at the mention of cooking. “I believe something special would definitely be in order.” She gave a little bow and scurried back to the kitchen.

I looked to the faeries, but they were collapsed into little piles of sugar overdoses and snoring like pirates on a month-long bender. “Foxy, could you put them somewhere safe?” I normally would just leave them on the bar, but not after what had happened, both here and at home.

Foxy’s face softened as he looked down at their tiny bodies. “I’ve just the thing.” He reached under his bar and took out a shiny filigree box, just big enough for all three to stretch out in. “One of my regulars paid his bar tab with this a few years ago, was just about to give it away. But look.” As he spoke, he moved the girls into the box. It had a lid that would keep anything from joining them but no lock.

“Add a lock to that and I may buy it off of you.” It might be handy to have a way to lock up the little loons when I needed to. Not that I really figured it would work.

Foxy looked at the box then at me. “I think it might be good to have a safe place to keep them here. I can ask my regular to make me another one—with a place for a lock. Consider it my treat for thinking of their singing to stop the zombie.”

There was no way I could find out more about Amara’s mysterious master after what just happened. At least not right now. But maybe I could find out more about Glorinal. I smiled, then took his offered arm. This way I might accomplish one of my goals. Besides, I really wanted to get to know him on a personal level as well, not just from a “are you sure he’s not an evil elf trying to take over the world” standpoint.

Considering what had just happened in the pub, and what the two barmaids had dragged out of here, the street outside was quiet and serene. Well, as serene as Beccia got in any case.

“So, tell me all that there is to know about the wondrous Taryn.”

I looked up quickly to make sure he wasn’t mocking me—too much hanging around Alric again had left me a bit sarcasm shy. But no, his face only held genuine interest. Amazing.

“There’s not much to tell. I’m a digger. I go through your people’s abandoned homes looking for things. What I’d like to hear about is what happened to your people.” I was almost hesitant to ask. Like most diggers I’d had my own theories of the long-lost elves, and part of me didn’t want those to be ground to dust by someone who had been there.

But the other part of me needed to know what happened to the elves. Specifically what the Breaking was. It didn’t sound good and the fact that Alric couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell me about it left me wanting to find out more.

“Ah.” His grin could have provided enough magic to power glows for a dozen houses. Two old spinsters swooned as they got caught in its wake. “But I asked first. Fear not, there will plenty of time to find out all about my people—I’m not going anywhere. Were you raised here?”

I couldn’t recall the last time someone actually asked about my background. Not that there was much to tell; I hadn’t been lying about that. “No, I moved here about fifteen years ago. I’m from a small fishing village you’ve probably never heard of about a week north of here. I lost my parents in a boating accident and decided to start over here. There you go, me in a nutshell.”

“Now that is unjust. Clearly you had a life in this distant fishing village. And I may not be from here, but I have travelled greatly, so there is a chance I have heard of this village of yours. Did you have siblings? Who were your friends? What did young Taryn like to do?”