The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) (59 page)

The priestess and the ghoul turned and hugged one another, laughing and crying and laughing some more, oblivious to the silent girl in the brown cloak standing behind them.

The Girl in Brown slipped away, leaving the assassins to their victory. She made her way back down and out into the streets of the city, dimly aware of the wild celebrations that were breaking out amidst the devastation all around her. The word spread through the city faster than the fires that its people were still struggling to contain.

The dragon was dead, and the city was saved.

She descended into the tunnels beneath the smoky streets once more, putting behind her the madness of the world above. She came at last to the little garden that Garrett had built for the goblin king's rose, and there, in a patch of dirt, dimly lit by the fiery glow of the burning city above, the blood rose lay, unharmed. Curled in the dirt beside it, the little goblin lay dreaming.

The Girl in Brown sat down upon the poorly built retaining wall and put her head in her hands and wept.

“Garrett,” a voice spoke from somewhere in the darkness.

An icy river rushed past, all around Garrett’s body, but the ground beneath him was no longer soft mud. He strode forward, his feet upon solid rock, and even the mighty river could not sway him from his course. A distant light lay ahead, and he pushed on toward it.

“Garrett,” the voice called again, muffled by the rushing torrent of the dark river.

Garrett turned to look back, seeing only darkness behind him. For a moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of something, a vast shadow, moving against the icy gloom of the dark river.

“Garrett!” the voice cried again, and Garrett was suddenly struck in the face by a soft bundle of cloth.

“Gimme another one,” Scupp said.

“Hey!” Garrett said, waking from his slumber to see Mujah handing another roll of bandages to Scupp as she lay in the bed in Serepheni’s room at the temple.

“Good Morning!” Scupp said sweetly, hiding the roll of bandages beneath her pillow. A little yellow bird chirped happily in its cage beside the open window. Smoky daylight poured in through the window, and the sounds of hammering and distant voices drifted in from beyond.

Mujah, who was sitting beside Scupp on the far side of the bed, gave Garrett an apologetic wave. The Lethian boy was still wearing the same dusty clothes he had been wearing when they pulled the two of them from the rubble of the north tower the night before.

“Sorry, I dozed off,” Garrett said, rubbing his face and yawning. He rubbed his eyes and smiled then. “Hi, Scupp,” he said, “How are you feeling?”

The ghoul lifted her sheets and peered beneath for a moment and then dropped them back in place. “Still short a leg,” she said with a shrug.

“I’m sorry, Scupp,” Garrett said.

Mujah’s eyes fell, and he looked very small and ashamed.

“Enough o’ that!” Scupp scoffed, “Honestly, with all the pink goop that Serepheni’s been havin’ me drink, I don’t even care!”

“It’s my fault,” Mujah moaned.

Scupp hit the boy on the arm. “I warned you about that!” she said, “You saved my life, Mujah. I’da left more than a leg in that tower if you hadn’t pulled me out.”

“No,” Garrett sighed, “It’s my fault. You both did what I asked you to do, and it’s my fault you got hurt.”

“Same goes for you,” Scupp said, “Mujah, hit him for me.”

The Lethian boy got up and walked around the bed to where Garrett sat in the chair and obediently punched him in the shoulder before returning to his place at Scupp’s side.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Scupp asked.

“I was worried about you,” Garrett said.

“I’m fine,” she said, “and anyway, Mujah’s takin’ care of me. You should be out celebratin’ your victory or somethin’.”

“
Our
victory,” Garrett said.

“I still can’t believe you let Diggs get the last shot in,” she said, “You know we’re never gonna hear the end o’ that, don’t you?”

Garrett laughed. “Everybody did a great job,” he said, “It wasn’t just Diggs that killed the dragon.”

Scupp shook her head. She started to speak again, but the door swung open and Serepheni walked in carrying a tray of food and water. She looked very tired, but she had changed into a fresh habit and tucked her hair up beneath a simple green bonnet.

“Good, you’re awake,” she said, nodding her greetings to the two boys as she moved to set the food down on the table beside the bed, “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry!” Scupp said, tearing a leg from the roasted chicken on the plate and crunching it, bone and all, between her jaws. She pulled off the other leg and passed it toward Mujah as Serepheni lifted the sheets and pulled them down to the foot of the bed.

Garrett felt a bit sick, seeing the splints and bandages completely covering Scupp’s right leg. Her left leg was missing below the knee joint.

Serepheni pulled out a basket of bandages and then knelt beside the bed to change Scupp’s dressings.

“Eeeeat,” Scupp said, rubbing the greasy chicken leg against Mujah’s cheek as he struggled to refuse it.

“That’s for you,” the boy protested.

“Eeeeeeeat!” the ghoul insisted, prodding him in the ear with the leg until he giggled and took the meat from her paw. He sat, picking at the food with a sad little smile as he tried not to look at his friend’s terrible injuries.

Scupp stuffed a chunk of bread in her mouth and then lifted herself up on her elbows to get a better look. “E’er’hing a’right?” she asked through a mouthful of bread.

“It’s a wonder you survived,” Serepheni said, “If your friend hadn’t stopped the bleeding, you would have certainly died.”

“He’s a spankin’ good wizard to boot!” Scupp said, giving Mujah a proud grin, “I saw him burn a hole in the dragon’s wing as big as a house.”

Mujah shook his head.

“It’s true,” Garrett said, “If you hadn’t burned his wing, he woulda had me for sure… and if you two hadn’t pulled him off of Warren and Crane, they might not have made it either.”

Mujah looked as though he was struggling to accept their praise, his eyes going again to the stump of Scupp’s left leg.

Garrett sighed, his eyes lifting to Serepheni’s bow that hung in its place beside the door. “That was a great shot Matron Serepheni,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, lifting her eyes from her work with a tired smile, “I’m just glad to be done with it… The real work still lies ahead.”

“How bad is it out there?” Garrett asked.

Serepheni glanced toward Mujah and Scupp. “It’s not good,” she said, “The dragon inflicted a great deal of damage to the city before it died. We’re still getting the reports, but… well, it could have been much worse.”

“How’s the High Priestess doing?” Garrett asked.

“She’ll live,” Serepheni sighed, “but she was badly burned… I, and the surviving matrons will have our hands full for a while until she recovers.”

“Oh,” Garrett said, feeling a sickness in his heart to know that someone else was now going through what he had face as a child. Then his heart sank even further to imagine how many others would bear the scars of that night for the rest of their lives.

“We lost Matron Brix, too,” Serepheni said.

“What?” Garrett said, shaking himself from his troubled thoughts.

“She didn’t report in,” Serepheni said, “and the last time that anyone saw her alive, she was defending the outer walls.”

Garrett felt a sudden and acute pang of loss for the gray-haired matron. He covered his eyes with his hand and fought back tears.

“She up yet?” Diggs demanded as he pushed in through the door. Garrett looked up to see the brindle furred ghoul pause in the doorway, his eyes on his sister’s wounds and a sick look on his face. A moment later, his grin returned as he added, “Hi, everybody!”

“What’s that?” Scupp demanded, pointing a wing bone toward her brother’s chest.

Diggs looked down at the silver worm-shaped medallion that hung from the green silk ribbon around his neck. “This?” he said, pointing at the medal, “Oh, this is just my reward for, you know…
savin’ the city… by killin’ a dragon!
”

Scupp rolled her eyes. “You had some help you know,” she said.

“Oh, of course,” Diggs replied airily, “I won’t forget all the little people that helped me get to where I am today.”

“Did you give him that?” Scupp demanded, giving Serepheni a dark look.

“
Sorry
,” the priestess whispered as she tightened the fresh bandages around Scupp’s leg.

“Oh, Garrett,” Diggs said, “That fairy guy is lookin’ for you.”

“Oh,” Garrett said, wiping his eyes as he stood up. He winced at the painful soreness in his legs and feet. “Where is he?”

“He said he would meet you at your house when you’re done here,” Diggs said.

“All right, thanks,” Garrett said.

“You want some food, Diggs?” Scupp asked, gesturing toward the scraps that remained on the plate.

Diggs eyed the plate hungrily but then shook his head. “Nah,” he said, “I had somethin’ earlier.”

Scupp looked taken aback. “I’m not
dyin’
Diggs!” she said.

Diggs gave her a wicked grin. “I just don’t want to catch whatever you got that makes your legs fall off like that!” he laughed.

Scupp grabbed the roll of bandages from beneath her pillow and pelted her brother in the head.

“I’d better go,” Garrett chuckled. He reached out and put his hand on Scupp’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said and then looked around at the rest, “Thank you all.”

Mujah gave him a thin smile.

“I’ll see you all later,” Garrett said.

“Come back when you can,” Serepheni said, “but get some rest first… you’ve earned it.”

“You too,” Garrett said.

*******

Garrett watched a squad of Templars as they searched the charred debris of the outer courtyard, calling out whenever they chanced across the smoldering remains of one of their fellows. Two of the Templars paused as they passed by him, seeming to recognize him. Garrett remembered them as men he had seen around the temple before, but could not recall their names.

They simply met his gaze and gave him a respectful nod before returning to their duties.

Garrett moved on. He made his way out of the Chapel Ward, finding most of it undamaged by Kadreaan’s wrath. He headed south toward the rising columns of gray smoke that still hung above the rooftops.

The Arcane Quarter had suffered a few casualties, but the larger portion of it remained fairly unscathed. Mister Elbie had lost his workshop when a drifting spark had ignited the fumes from one of its ventilation ports. Garrett paused to commiserate with the old man, promising to send some zombies around to help with the cleanup later. Then he hurried on to see if any ill had befallen Tinjin’s manor house.

Garrett found two of the servants still shoveling dirt onto the smoldering ruins of the carriage house. With the coachman gone, he supposed that he didn’t really need a carriage after all, but he was saddened to discover that the twin undead horses had perished along with it.

The house itself seemed in good shape otherwise.

Garrett pushed the front door open to see a small pack of furry creatures and frilled lizards scurry away to hide beneath the parlor chairs. A fairy that was polishing the onyx skull on the pillar of the bannister suddenly brought her tiny hands to her lips in surprise and darted out of sight down the hall.

“Hello?” Garrett called out.

Muffled meeping noises answered from beneath the parlor sofa, but nothing else.

Garrett saw a light coming from the kitchen and walked down the hall to investigate. He pushed open the door and then laughed at what he saw within.

“Surprise!” a chorus of fairies cried out as Garrett stepped through the door.

A rather lopsided cake lay slumped across a large silver platter in the center of the kitchen table. The uneven surface of sugar frosting was strewn with fresh flower petals with a few fairies rushing to put on the finishing touches even now.

Tom the kitchen zombie stood back, looking at the cake with a look of befuddled uncertainty on his face.

“Congratulations, Songreaver!” Shortgrass said.

“You guys made this for me?” Garrett asked, smiling at the flock of fairies that hovered all around the small room.

“Yer friend in tha apron there gave us a hand,” Shortgrass said.

“We hope you like it,” a young female fairy said as she fluttered up in front of Garrett, “Some of us always wanted to make a cake.”

“You guys don’t really eat cake though, do you?” Garrett asked.

“Well, no,” she said, blushing, “but we always hear about them in stories, so we thought it would be fun to try.”

“Thanks,” Garrett said.

“Have some,” another fairy said, grunting with effort as he flew toward Garrett bearing the weight of a silver fork.