The Shadowhand Covenant (7 page)

Reena guided me through the maze of tents until we came to one that was just slightly bigger than the others. I pulled back the door flap, and Reena pushed me through. A large rock in the center served as a table. A couple of dilapidated cots stood to the left and to the right. A trio of burning candles filled the air with the scent of mokka trees in bloom.

An Aviard man with impressively large wings and an
older human woman seated at the rock table stood as we entered. Reena and Holm dropped Maloch at my feet, bowed, and left.

“Hi,” I said. “Jaxter Grimjinx. Do you mind if I untie my friend? Well, he's not really my friend, but it looks like he's in pain and I've always had a soft spot for—”

The woman moved so fast I barely saw her. Before I knew it, she'd pinched a lock of my hair between two gnarled fingers and cut it off with a small knife.

“Hey!” I shouted. But they ignored me. The woman rolled my hair up into a parchment scroll, which she sealed into a glass tube and handed to the Aviard.

“I'll get this to the Dowager by morning,” the man said, fluttering his wings.

The Dowager? What did she have to do with any of this?

Not giving either a chance to protest, I knelt next to Maloch and removed his gag.

“Where is he?” he demanded, straining at his bonds. “What have you done with my father?”

The two Sarosans looked confused. “Who is he, Warras?” the woman asked the Aviard.

“We had to take him too,” Warras said. “He was a witness
when we kidnapped Grimjinx.”

Maloch and I exchanged a look. This had nothing to do with him being the son of a Shadowhand. It was
me
they were after.

I nodded at the tube holding the parchment. “What is that? Why are you sending it to Dowager Soranna?”

Warras folded his arms. “By the order of our leader, you will remain here until the Dowager has persuaded her brother, the High Laird, to drop all charges against our people.”

Of course. I was a hostage. A bargaining chip. No doubt the parchment in that tube was a note threatening my life if the Dowager didn't comply with their demands. And under any other circumstances, I would have let them deliver the note and then waited for the Dowager to arrange my release.

But I knew something they didn't.

“No,” I said, softly but firmly. “I'm going to untie my friend. And then you're going to get someone to escort us back to Vengekeep. Do it my way and you might survive.”

All I could hear was blood pounding in my ears as I fought to stay confident. I started to work on the ropes around Maloch's wrists. When the Aviard moved to stop
me, I looked up sharply.

“One way or another, we're leaving here,” I said. “You can let us go. Or . . . we wait.”

The woman laughed. “Wait? Wait for what?”

That's when we all heard the first scream. Then the second. Next, a whole chorus of shrieks filled the cavern beyond the tent walls.

I looked the Sarosans right in the eye.

“For
that
.”

“A sincere assurance is a lock pick for the heart.”

—The Lymmaris Creed

O
utside, it sounded like a slaughter. Which was probably exactly what was happening.

Without a second thought, Warras and the woman ran from the tent to investigate. I dug my thumbs into Maloch's bonds and twisted until the ropes fell to the floor.

“What is that?” he asked, clearly worried. The bloodcurdling screams were now joined with cries for help and the mad footfalls of people not knowing quite where to run.

“That,” I said, my mind reeling back to my last vessapede
encounter, “is what happens when a family of vessapedes comes home to find a bunch of Sarosans in their living room. From the size of these caves, I'm guessing there's three or four. I tried to warn that Reena girl the vessapedes would be back soon. Say what you want about us Grimjinxes, Maloch, but we have
impeccable
timing.”

I felt bad for the Sarosans. I really did. I meant it when I said I sympathized with them because of what the High Laird was doing to them. But I was nobody's bargaining chip. If they wanted the Dowager to help them, talking to her would work better than coercing her. But that was their problem. As were the vessapedes. My problem was to get us out of here alive.

Which was going to be harder than I thought. Angry Maloch was gone.
This
Maloch looked shaken. He'd gone pale. Beads of sweat dotted the furrows in his brow. “Vess . . . vessapedes?”

“Maloch,” I said, suppressing a smile, “are you . . . afraid of vessapedes?” I wasn't, strictly speaking, an
admirer
of the beasts, but I wasn't feeling anything close to the terror I saw in Maloch's eyes.

He blanched. “You weren't there when they overran
Vengekeep. It was all we could do to fight them off.” One of the many disasters the fateskein tapestry had sent to Vengekeep involved an infestation of vessapedes. Apparently, Maloch had fought on the front lines.

Bangers. The hardened fighter was scared of bugs. Granted, these bugs were as wide as Maloch was tall and they stretched for what would have been a city block in Vengekeep. And they'd just as soon eat your face off as look at you. Still, Maloch was picking a terrible time to jettison his tough-guy routine.

“Don't worry. I learned a few tricks for distracting vessapedes. We'll be fine.”

Exiting the tent, we found chaos. Men and women ran around brandishing torches, pitchforks, and anything else they could use for weapons. Two massive vessapedes had entered the cavern and were thrashing about near the far side of the camp. Hundreds of spiky tendrils, which acted as hands, feet, and burrowing tools, lined their gray, sluglike bodies. The vessapedes emitted a high-pitched shriek that raised the hair on my arms.

“By the Seven!” Maloch froze, his wide eyes fixed on the vessapedes across the way. I clutched his arm and forced him
forward, diving down behind a wagon.

Daring a look, I spotted two exits: the tunnel that led to the cave where we'd woken up—a dead end—and the tunnel from which the vessapedes had presumably entered. Which meant it was our exit.

“Get ready to run,” I said, gripping his arm. “On the count of three . . .”

Before I could say another word, one of the vessapedes slithered forward, charging its way through the camp, destroying everything in its path. A crowd of Sarosan women and men leaped in front of it, waving torches, but the creature swatted most of them aside with its tendrils and continued onward. Headed right for us.

“Three!” I yelled, making a crazed dash from the vessapede's path. Maloch caught sight of the stampeding beast, screamed, and followed me. Entire tents flew over our heads as the vessapede made short work of the Sarosans' homes. We aimed for the perimeter of the camp, hoping to follow the wall around to the exit.

Just then, the second vessapede made its move. With a war cry, it lashed out at the Sarosans who had surrounded it and started ripping apart the other side of the camp.

We changed course, choosing a path between broken tents that brought us closer to the exit. As we cleared the camp, the exit tunnel loomed wide ahead of us. All we had to do was find our way to the surface and—

A bellow unlike anything uttered by the vessapedes in the cavern issued from the tunnel in front of us. The hairs on my arm stood at attention as a gelatinous gray face filled the tunnel entrance. A moment later, the biggest vessapede of the lot pushed its way into the cavern.

It was three times larger than the rest of the herd. The front of its wormy body reared up and its three mouths—each baring razor-sharp teeth—opened to shriek. The dozen or so spiky tendrils that were visible inside the cavern flailed about, searching for faces to eat.

The rest of the vessapede's body disappeared down the exit tunnel. There was no way past it.

Maloch stood limply in stunned horror. I hooked my arm around his and dragged him back behind one of the few tents that remained standing.

“We have to lure it farther into the cavern,” I said.

“You want us to bring it
in
?” he asked.

“Once the tunnel's clear, we can—”

The air shot from my lungs as a blurry figure tackled me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the same thing happen to Maloch. Shaking my head, I found Reena crouched on my chest, dagger in hand, while Holm had Maloch pinned.

“Get back to your cell!” Reena said, her voice shaking.

“Have you gone completely naff-nut?” I yelled. “Your people are under attack and you're worried about us—”

“Get back to your cell!” she said again, this time without quivering.

A small group of Sarosans ran past us to attack the largest vessapede. The creature screamed louder than ever and began batting away the Sarosans like they were insects. As the vessapede shrieked, I noticed two bulbous yellow sacs throbbing just below its lowest mouth. That told me everything I needed to know about surviving this.

Reena pulled me to my feet. Maloch was wrestling with the much smaller Holm, but the boy proved surprisingly strong. And Maloch couldn't stop looking at the vessapede, inching its way into the room.

“I can help!” I said.

“You're trying to escape,” Reena said, shoving me up against the tent.

“I know about vessapedes,” I said. “You know I do. I predicted this would happen. I can put an end to this, but you have to help me.”

Reena looked on as the adult Sarosans continued their increasingly futile battle. She bit her lip, then let me go. By now, Holm had managed to get Maloch on his stomach and was holding the bigger boy's arms behind his back.

“Bangers, Holm!” I said. “Now, let him up. We need him too. We have to find a pile of rocks.”

“What?” Reena asked as Holm slid off Maloch.

“Somewhere in this cave, there's a pile of rocks,” I said, looking wildly about. “They would have already been here when you set up camp. Small rocks. Lots of them. In a tall pile.”

Reena looked dubious, but Holm stepped forward.

“I've explored the cave for weeks, I know of the rocks you seek!” the young boy declared.

I forgave the bad rhyme and said, “Show me!”

Holm turned and ran toward the heart of the camp. I followed as Reena prodded a still-aching Maloch along. We dodged our way through the debris, avoiding the vessapedes as they slithered by, until Holm brought us to a small
nook along the far wall.

Tucked just inside was exactly what I was looking for: a cone-shaped pile of stones. Kneeling, I began tossing the stones aside. Soon, the others joined me.

“What,” Reena said, tone laced with anger, “are we doing?”

“The vessapede that's blocking the entrance is the queen,” I said, and I tapped under my chin. “Just under her lower mouth are feeding sacs. They only become visible when she's getting ready to nurse. The family came back to this cave not just because it's their home. They came back to get . . .”

We all stood and took a step back, having reached the bottom of the pile of stones. There, nestled in a shallow hole, sat four blood-red vessapede eggs, each the size of Holm's head.

Maloch picked up a rock. “So we smash them!”

I jumped between him and the nest. “Not if you want to live. Okay, everybody grab an egg, hold it over your head, and follow me. I have a plan.”

Everyone did as they were told. I led our single-file line as we walked slowly through the decimated camp. The two vessapedes that had been tearing apart the camp stopped
dead when they saw us. Each slithered aside, emitting a low growl-hiss.

Sweat poured from Maloch's forehead. “Jaxter . . .”

“We're fine,” I whispered. “As long as we don't actually harm the eggs, we're fine.”

The other Sarosans saw what we were doing and stepped aside, clearing a path as we marched toward the queen at the entrance. When the queen spotted us, she stopped her screeching and purred the same growl-hiss that the others had made. We stood before the queen for several seconds.

“All right,” I said to the others. “Now back up. Slowly.”

Everyone obeyed. We kept the eggs high above our heads in clear sight. And with every step back we took, the queen slid farther into the cavern. Once her entire body was inside, the exit tunnel was clear.

“Now what?” Reena asked.

“She'll give us a wide berth. She won't risk hurting the eggs. Holm, walk around and head down the tunnel. We'll get them to follow us out.”

“And then what?” Reena asked.

“My ancestor Mirdella Grimjinx always said, ‘When you don't want to hear the answer, don't ask the question.'”

“But I
do
want the answer.”

“No, you don't. Trust me.”

Holm led the way, followed by Reena, then Maloch, and finally me. The queen's large, slimy body coiled around itself as she continued to growl-hiss, her six pairs of eyes never once leaving her eggs. Holm moved slowly into the tunnel. The queen wiggled toward us, causing Maloch to whimper.