The Last Protector (11 page)

He shrugged. “If it works, it works."

Two more soldiers charged Scrornuck. Instead of taking them on directly, he jumped, up and forward, doing a flip in the air and landing directly behind their leader. An instant later, he raised Ol’ Red's blade to the Captain's throat and made an offer of his own: “This is your last chance to go peacefully."

The soldiers had seen enough. They ran like scared rabbits, past Scrornuck and their leader, out of the courtyard, down the passageway and were gone.

Scrornuck put his sword away but kept one hand firmly clamped about his prisoner's neck. “Maybe you'd like to tell us a little bit more about Lord Draggott and why he wants us?"

"Aggh—ack—auggh,” the Captain gurgled in response.

"It's hard to talk when you're being strangled,” Jape said.

"Oh.” Scrornuck loosened his grip a little.

"Two of my best men...” their captive sputtered, squirming to get a good look at Scrornuck's face. “What kind of demon are you?"

"The kind that'll rip your lungs out if I don't like your answers.” He brought Ol’ Red's blade a little closer to his prisoner's throat.

Jape stared into the Captain's eyes. “Tell us about Lord Draggott.” His voice was soft, almost soothing. “Who is he? What's he look like?"

"He is our master,” came the defiant reply. “He wears black—black hood, black cape, black robes, black mask..."

"Of course,” Scrornuck spat, “they
always
wear black."

"It is the will of Spafu that we defend our sacred way of life,” the Captain said. “Lord Draggott has told us that invaders would come to defile the Temple and overturn the sacred order. We must not let that happen..."

"Who is he to say such things?” Nalia demanded. “A prophet?"

"Lord Draggott is more than a mere prophet. He is the true—"

Scrornuck heard a
crunch
from above. He spun about, dragging his captive with him, and saw atop the wall a soldier with a dagger in his hand. As Scrornuck shoved Jape, Nalia and the Captain to the ground, the soldier threw his weapon. Scrornuck spun to his right and ducked, and the dagger bounced off his jacket. Then, as the boots sang their song, he leaped upward, landing on the rotted fake-stone at the top of the wall. The soldier reached into his belt for another dagger, Scrornuck threw a punch, and the century-old plastic-and-stucco collapsed under them.

Both men fell. One knew how to land. Scrornuck twisted in the air, getting the boots underneath him to soak up most of the shock of impact. He dropped and rolled and knew he'd be sore tomorrow, but he'd done much better than the knife-thrower, who lay unmoving on the grass, his neck at an impossible angle.

The Captain saw an opportunity and bolted for the passageway.
"Shit!"
Scrornuck muttered as the sound of footsteps faded away, “bitch got away.” He spent a moment listening for noises in the passage and scanning the roof for any more attacks from above. Seeing and hearing nothing out of the ordinary, he relaxed a little and helped Jape and Nalia to their feet. “I think they're gone—for now, anyway."

Taking the little red prayer book from his sporran, he knelt beside the dead and recited the
Prayer of Intercession for Fallen Enemies,
following it with a moment of respectful silence.

"Did you really have to whack those guys?” Jape whispered as Scrornuck put the prayer book away. “They don't harm guests here, remember?"

"That's what I thought, too.” Scrornuck took Jape's hand and held it against the warm, sticky wound in his side.

"Hmm.” Jape wiped his fingers on a patch of Scrornuck's kilt—there were so many bloodstains on the garment that one more would hardly be noticed—and reached into a pocket of his cape. “Do you need the first-aid stuff?"

"It's minor. I'll take care of it tonight."

Jape nodded, and with one toe he rolled over the body of the soldier who'd fallen from the roof. “Let's see if we can learn something about who they were.” Still working with his toe, he prodded the helmet off the dead man. “Would you look at that: our friend Pretty Boy."

"Son-of-a-bitch likes to throw knives,” Scrornuck said.

Jape rolled the body back over and looked at Nalia, who'd been staring wide-eyed and white-faced at the three dead soldiers. “Are you all right?"

She continued staring at the bodies. “He killed them."

Jape shrugged. “He protected us; that's what he does. After a while you get used to it."

"Taupeaquaahns don't kill each other."

Scrornuck pointed to the dagger still in Leondo's hand. “This guy was trying."

"Let's see if there's anything left on that altar,” Jape said, pointing to the platform where the violet ball had been. Scrornuck winced at the term. In his dictionary an altar was a place of worship, and he already had a strong feeling that whatever this thing was, it wasn't the least bit divine.

In addition to the aged bones, they found several dried-out, rotted slats of wood on the platform, directly beneath where the violet ball had been. “Bottom of a shipping crate?” Scrornuck suggested.

"Must have included a lot of packing peanuts,” Jape said. The ball had been at most two feet across, but this crate was easily twice that.

Gently and carefully, Scrornuck lifted the planks. “Aha—a tag."

Jape bent over to read the faded writing.
"Shipment for P. McGinn. Destination: Courtyard A, Personal Residence (Executive Palace). Origin: Office B36, Alpine Lake Winter Sports Complex."

"They have ski slopes here?"

"Sounds like they were working on them.
Contents: Personal Effects. Crate 8 of 17. Ship date September 7, 2133C.E."
Jape stroked his chin thoughtfully. “That's less than a week before UniFlag abandoned the project."

"What is all this stuff?” Nalia asked, taking her eyes off the bodies and joining Jape and Scrornuck.

"Clues,” Scrornuck said. “We've got a mystery on our hands."

"Several mysteries.” Jape counted them off on the fingers of his left hand. “What was that ball? Who is Lord Draggott and why does he want it? Who's this McGinn character? And what's any of this got to do with saving the world from—” He stopped, staring at the ring on the finger he'd just raised. The green jewel, so bright it seemed to glow, had a decidedly yellowish tinge. “Uh-oh, time to get to work.” He spread his softscroll atop the platform. “First step to solving any mystery is research. Let's see what's in the archives.” Tapping the buttons quickly, he entered a series of requests for information relating to
McGinn, Draggott, Orb, Alpine Lake
and
Winter Sports Complex.

All three watched the scroll, waiting expectantly for an answer. Scrornuck whistled, Jape tapped his foot, Nalia looked uneasily back toward the bodies, which were beginning to attract flies. Finally the scroll made a soft beep. Jape sighed, rolled up the scroll and slipped it into a pocket of his cape. “It'll take them a day or two to find the records. Let's go; we won't learn anything else here."

They backtracked through the dingy corridors, Scrornuck taking the lead and carefully exploring each stretch of passageway before allowing Jape and Nalia to follow. He met no opposition. It appeared the soldiers had fled.

"I wonder about this Captain,” Jape said. “Is this a military organization? What were they doing here?"

"I heard them say they were supposed to capture you and me,” Nalia said.

"When did you hear that?"

"Just before they rushed us."

"What about me?” Scrornuck asked. “Did they say anything?"

"Just to dispose of you quickly."

"Boy, that's getting old,” he said with mock indignation. “It's always ‘capture the short guy, don't hurt the girl, and oh yeah, kill the big guy.’ I'm always the afterthought. Just once I'd like to be the one they want."

"Be careful what you wish for,” Jape warned. “You might get it."

They walked a bit further, still encountering no sign of opposition. “That Orb thing is going to be trouble, you know,” Scrornuck predicted. “I can feel it."

Jape chuckled. “You're just cranky because it doesn't like you."

"Why me, anyway?” Scrornuck looked at Nalia. “You can stick your arms in it up to the elbow without so much as a tingle."

"What?” she said. “I never touched it."

"I didn't see her...” Jape said.

"You were staring at her like a cow in a trance!"

"I was? When?"

"In the courtyard, just before those soldiers showed up.” Scrornuck frowned. “Come to think of it, a lot of strange stuff happened then. The birds weren't chirping, and I didn't hear the soldiers making noise in the corridor. It was dead silent, almost like time had stopped until I pulled her out."

"I don't remember any of that,” Jape said.

"Me neither,” Nalia added.

"Well, I know what I saw!” Scrornuck kicked at the debris on the floor, spattering the walls ahead with mud. “Know what I felt, too.” He looked at his hands again, certain he'd remember for the rest of his life just how much touching that thing had hurt.

In short order they emerged from the basement and entered the Palace's sunlit entry hall. “Still no sign of the troops,” Jape said. “I told you they'd be high-tailing it for home.” Kicking mud from their shoes, they strode through the remains of the door into the late-afternoon sunshine. “It is sure a beautiful day..."

Scrunch-scrunch.
Scrornuck spun about and saw three archers balanced atop the second floor facade. He practically threw Jape and Nalia away from the building as the soldiers loosed their arrows, striking both of his shoulders and the center of his chest. His armored jacket stopped the arrows, but they still hit with the force of hard punches.

As the archers reached for fresh arrows, Scrornuck drew his sword. With two great swings he cut through the support beams on either side of the doorway. The facade came down, leaving the soldiers lying dazed in a pile of rotted wood and plastic foam. “Now,” he said, “I've got some questions for you."

There was a sudden
crack.
The soldiers could do little more than scream as a twenty-foot section of the roof caved in on them. When the dust settled, one arm and one leg, motionless, were all that protruded from the rubble.

"Shit,” Scrornuck muttered. He turned to Jape and Nalia, and found himself watching one side of a conversation. She stared into the Ranger's eyes, and he spoke, seemingly in response to questions only he could hear. “After a while you get used to it.” A few seconds of silence. “They're not playing by the rules.” A few more seconds, in which Nalia's eyes flicked to the pile of debris for an instant. “Trust me; you'll never be in a safer place than you are right now."

It's one of those days, Scrornuck thought. He took out his prayer book, knelt before the pile of debris and for the second time today whispered his prayer. After the “amen,” he remained kneeling for a while, working through the day's math. He wasn't very good at multiplication, terrible at division and hopeless around fractions, but he was pretty good at counting—and by his count there were at least three soldiers left. With a soft sigh, he bookmarked the prayer. He had a feeling he'd be needing this page again.

The three moved briskly along the trail as the afternoon sun set and a gloomy twilight filled the forest. They'd be arriving at their camp well after dark.

"Good news, bad news,” Jape said philosophically. “We found the Orb, that other telepathic thing, but Lord Draggott's soldiers took it.” He held up his left hand and gazed into the purple ring. “We found it once, we can find it again.” He stopped. “That's odd.” He held his hand higher, twisted it in different ways. “That's very odd.” He waved his hands around and turned in a slow circle. “No matter which way I turn it, the reading's exactly the same.” He lowered his hands. “It's as though the field were all around us.” He looked suspiciously at Nalia and examined his blue ring. It brightened when facing her and dimmed as he moved his hand away. “This one still works.” But the purple ring remained unchanged, a dull glow that was possibly a little brighter than it had been in the morning. “Well, if the instrument won't tell us where it is, we'll have to find it some other way."

A little further into the woods, Scrornuck slowed down and finally stopped.

"Come along, Mister Saughblade,” Jape called cheerfully, “duty calls!"

"In a minute,” Scrornuck said. “Nature's calling, and I think she's calling louder.” He stepped off the trail. “Duty can wait.” He turned away from Jape and Nalia, lifted his kilt, threw back his head and sang:

I can pee again! Lucky, lucky me, I can pee again!

I can pee again! Lucky, lucky me, I can pee again!

After all these long hard miles

I know my bladder surely smiles

'Cause I can pee again! Lucky, lucky me, I can pee again!

"That's pretty tacky,” Nalia said.

"Yeah,” Scrornuck admitted, “the rhymes are really lame."

"That's not what I meant. Couldn't you at least go behind a tree to do that?"

"Why?"

"So half the world doesn't see you!"

"I'm facing the other way."

"I know what you're doing!"

"You'd know what I was doing if I went behind a tree."

"It's just what people do!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know?"

"Everybody knows..."

"If you're expecting Mister Saughblade to know the rules of ‘civilized’ behavior,” Jape interrupted, “I'm afraid you've got a disappointment coming."

Nalia laughed, for the first time since they'd left the Palace. “He probably doesn't know which fork to use for the appetizer, either."

Scrornuck stood for a moment, smoothing the aprons of his kilt, before slowly turning to face Jape and Nalia. His expression was deadly serious. “Jape,” he whispered, “you and Nalia stay here. Make some noise."

Jape nodded silently, and then stepped off the trail himself. A few seconds later the sound of splashing water again filled the air. As Nalia stood by, exasperated, Scrornuck stepped away from the trail and crept forward, straining his hearing to the limit. He'd been hearing sounds that didn't come from birds or insects, and he knew that these woods, where the trees met overhead and formed a sort of tunnel over the trail, would be the perfect place for an ambush. There—he heard a rustling sound, ahead and to the right, followed by a soft metallic
clink.