City of Death (22 page)

They were almost to the shore when the guard on the bridge returned to the island. At the same time, the second Wolf Guard returned double time. When he saw them, he raised his rifle to his shoulder.

“I need to sink my teeth into someone,” Tute growled, “so leave this pair of nitwits to me.”

“I'll help,” M
ā
ka offered.

“Your stupid card tricks aren't going to scare them away. I'll handle this alone,” he said, and he veered toward the second guard.

She gave Scirye an apologetic smile. “I may not be able to help Lady Scirye as a magician or a seer, but I can do this much.” Skimming low, she snatched up a branch to use as a club and headed for the guard running from the bridge.

“Good luck,” Scirye called as they passed them.

The last thing the second guard had expected to see was an overgrown, glowing cat hurtling toward him like a missile. He gaped for seconds before he recovered his wits enough to raise his rifle. By then, it was too late.

“You bugs let go of me,” Tute commanded. Immediately, the butterflies flew away in all directions in a shimmering white cloud. Out of it burst sixty pounds of snarling lynx.

The guard fired without aiming, and his shot went wild. And then Tute had ducked under the rifle and struck him in the belly. Lynx and frightened man tumbled together over the ground and into a tall rhododendron shrub.

M
ā
ka's landing was less dramatic, stumbling forward a few steps before she got her balance and then dispersed her own butterflies. Before the cloud of departing butterflies could hide her from view, the determined sorceress's hands were already raising her club.

“M
ā
ka's got guts,” Leech observed as he, Koko, and Scirye darted over a flower bed that was just a rectangle of dirt until the spring planting.

“Even if she's short on common sense,” Koko agreed as the trio arched over the bordering hedge like dolphins leaping from the sea.

Hedge leaves brushed their stomach as they skimmed over the hedge itself. “She thinks we're heroes so she's trying to be like us, I think,” Scirye said.

They whizzed through a pavilion with fluted columns, scattering dirt and debris in their wake. The noise of their friends' struggles echoed underneath the marble dome. Upon the floor was a large mosaic of a well-muscled Hercules. Canvas tarps had been tied over something in the middle—most likely a bench. Leech figured that the villa was meant to be used in the summer so the furniture had been covered up until the spring.

The pavilion stood at the south corner of a square garden with elegant buildings boxing the garden's four sides. Their second-story balconies were supported by slender columns, giving shade and shelter to anyone on the ground.

In the center of the garden, a statue of Hercules dressed in a fur pelt leaned on his club as he gazed down from his pedestal at the twigs and leaves gathering in the basin of a large fountain that had been shut down for the winter. Apparently the vizier was a devotee of the Greek demi-god.

The griffin twisted his head from side to side. “Where should we look first?”

Suddenly Leech heard a scream off to their left. “There would be a good start,” Leech said.

“That's Momo!” Koko cried and immediately veered toward that building.

“Careful,” Leech warned. “She's working for the vizier.”

Koko sped on recklessly. “I bet it wasn't her choice. Old Potbelly forced her into a life of crime,” he called over his shoulder.

It wasn't like his friend to lead the way into danger.
Koko must like her a lot if he'll make up a flimsy excuse like that,
Leech thought.
He's good at fooling other people. I just hope he's not fooling himself.

Despite his own misgivings, Leech swerved after his friend and Scirye and Kles were right by his side. Perhaps because their slimmer bodies were more aerodynamic, or simply because they weighed less, they caught up with the badger just as he reached the marble steps leading to the building's entrance.

The next moment, a net dropped down on them, pinning them to the floor beneath a mesh of heavy steel wires.

 

39

Leech

The butterflies clinked against the metal wires as they tried to heave off the net, but it was too heavy.

Fighting down his own panic, Leech suggested, “Let's try to lift up one side and crawl out.” But strain as they might, they could not raise the net one inch.

“There must be a magical spell to hold it down,” Scirye panted.

Leech felt the cable strands press against him as if the net were pulling them harder against the ground. “Is it my imagination or is the net tightening?”

“I think it is too,” grunted Scirye. “Which means it won't be long before the mesh begins to cut through the butterflies into our skin.”

“No one's going to slice me up like a hunk of baloney,” Koko said, and then he said to the butterflies, “Scram, bugs.” When they didn't leave right away, he hunted for words they would understand. “Hit the road, vamoose.” Exasperated, the badger tried politeness. “Pretty please with sugar on top, go away, butterflies.”

Immediately a cloud of butterflies floated away from the badger and upward through the mesh to float a couple of yards overhead.

It was hard for the badger to move his paws under the net but somehow he managed to make the magical signs of his spell. Finally, his shape began to shimmer, and the next moment hundreds of tiny Koko's crawled through the interstices between the mesh.

“Ah,” Scirye said appreciatively, “very nice.”

“Yeah,” the tiny Kokos chorused as they stretched. “I've never done this many of me or this small.”

“A victim must have to be a certain size for the trap to trigger,” Leech said thoughtfully. “Otherwise it would be trying to catch a passing mosquito.”

“So how do I get you out of the net?” Koko wondered.

“I don't think the villa was ever intended to be a real prison, so Roland had to improvise some extra magical defenses.” With difficulty, Scirye turned her head to look around. “Over there by the doorway. See the paper with the writing in red ink? Try tearing that up.”

The air began to shimmer again as the Koko's ran together. “That tickles a lot,” he giggled. Slowly the glowing area expanded until Koko was whole once more. Quickly he went to the doorway and stretched up a hand and grabbed the yellow strip.

As soon as he tore it in half, the net's strands began to soften and then shrink until they were simply a lace of paper strips.

When Leech sat up, the strands tore and fell away. Flying into the mansion with its narrow spaces filled with furniture was too hazardous, so he said to his own coating of butterflies, “Release me.”

They dispersed, and next to him Scirye freed her own butterflies. Together, the butterflies joined the swarm glowing over their heads.

Kles rose after the butterflies. His fur and feathers were tangled and matted with sweat, but he still managed a dignified bow. “I apologize for any doubts I had for your magic, Koko.”

“Too bad it's my only trick,” Koko sighed.

“Kles, go on,” Scirye instructed. “Bayang may need your help.”

“As you wish, lady.” With a wave of a forepaw, the griffin shot into the building.

 

40

Bayang

The vizier had begun pacing back and forth impatiently, checking the corridor every few seconds for his guards to bring him news. But the only one who came was Momo.

“It's payday, my lord,” the badger said with a bow.

The vizier backhanded the badger across the muzzle and she gave a shrill cry of surprise. “You're too much of a chatterbox to leave around.” And he drew a stiletto from a sheath on his belt.

“Mama warned me there'd be days like this,” Momo said as she darted toward the doorway.

The vizier tried to block her way, but the badger nimbly dropped to all fours and scooted between his legs as if she were used to eluding taller, bigger humans.

He took a step after her but caught himself and turned back to the cage. “Well, at least I can get rid of you.”

Bayang balanced on the balls of her hind paws when the vizier raised his dagger to shoulder level with the blade parallel to the floor. Time seemed to slow into a series of moments, each heartbeat taking an eternity. When the vizier's right foot stamped on the marble floor, he lunged. Immediately, Bayang threw herself against one side of the cage and grunted at the shock. The pain was worth it though. The dagger's point scraped a cage bar as it penetrated the spot where she had been.

Her claws shot out to grab the blade, but the vizier was too quick and slid it away.

As the cage started to swing back and forth like a pendulum, Bayang thought to herself,
I've got to make myself a harder target to hit
.

She began to slam against the bars, making the cage rock from side to side violently and ignoring how much it hurt.

“Hold still,” the vizier said petulantly. He reached out to steady the cage.

“You'll be sorry if you do that,” Bayang said.

“I can suffer anything if I can sit on the throne at the end.” The vizier smiled.

I hope this hurts him more than it hurts me,
she thought savagely. As soon as his hand was in contact with the cage, she spun, jabbing her tail hard through the bars to strike the vizier's hand.

She timed the blow perfectly. The vizier cried out and hopped back, wringing his hand. “You foul creature!” A wicked smile spread across his face when he noticed the fireplace. “You'll wish I had stabbed you when I roast you alive.”

As the vizier walked toward the fireplace, Bayang said to herself,
Maybe I can twist the cage off the chain.

Heedless of the pain, Bayang began to throw herself back and forth and from side to side so that the cage began to spin crazily as it swung.
If I could only break a link on the chain.

The vizier carefully took a burning branch from the fire and held it up like a torch. “Let's see how you like this.” He held the torch up so the cage would swing into it.

Within the cage, the torch looked like a blazing wall. Bayang instinctively began to cringe. Fire licked at the bars, heating the metal so it was red hot, and then, as the cage passed through them, the flames reached for Bayang hungrily.

I'm sorry, Leech,
she thought.
I meant to do so much more for you.

Suddenly she heard a familiar voice cry,
“Tarkär, Tarkär!”

She saw Kles dart through the doorway like a thunderbolt of fur and feathers heading straight for the vizier.

 

41

Scirye

When she heard the hollering, Scirye dashed forward, not caring if there were any more traps. Dodging around furniture and tripping over rugs, she followed Kles's furious battle cries and the wailing of a man in terror and in pain. Panting, she paused in the doorway long enough to see Bayang in a tiny cage suspended by a chain from the ceiling. The dragon was no bigger than a parakeet and shouting encouragement in a shrill, high voice to Kles.

The griffin flapped his wings as his claws raked at the vizier's arms, which the man had thrown up protectively over his face. From the way Kles's feather and fur had puffed out, battle madness must have taken over the griffin. She knew that, seized by the rage, a griffin would keep attacking until he or she dropped from exhaustion.

Taking out her dagger, she crossed the room until she was only a couple of yards away. “Kles, this is your mistress, Lady Scirye,” she ordered in a loud, firm voice. “Stop.”

It took a moment for her words to register, even more for the griffin to understand them, but he rose shakily into the air.

Free of his attacker, the vizier lowered his arms and snarled. “You! Roland said you were pests.”

“Give up,” Scirye said, raising her dagger threateningly.

“Never,” he growled and, whirling around, he threw himself through the window. The wooden frame and glass panes shattered beneath his weight and then he was sprawled on the lawn.

Kles would have pursued the vizier, but Scirye called again to him. “Kles, stay with me. Bayang is our first concern.”

Kles drew a shaky breath. “Then we'd better do it soon, lady.” Already, they could hear the vizier bawling for his guards as he scrambled away.

“What happened to Momo?” Koko puffed as he stumbled into the room.

“She ran away when the vizier tried to kill me,” Bayang said.

Koko glared. “I ought to knock his block off.”

“You can settle with him later. He got away.” Scirye pointed her dagger at the broken window as she stamped out the fiery torch that the vizier had dropped.

“We have to escape ourselves,” Bayang said. “Roland and Badik are already on their way to the city, but they're taking equipment that's so heavy they have to drive to the City of Death in trucks.” The dragon added bitterly, “If only I could fly, we might beat them there.”

“Roland's heading into a trap. The emperor has sent troops there,” Leech said.

“Yes, but the troops are the vizier's own guards,” Bayang said. “They're probably under orders to cooperate with Roland.”

Koko let out a whistle. “That's like sending chickens to stop a fox.”

Scirye studied the cage intently. “First things first, let's get you out of there.”

“Don't touch the cage or you'll get a shock,” Bayang warned. “And the more force you use, the greater the pain.”

The dragon was standing in the same pose that Scirye had seen originally, standing erect on her hind legs, hunched forward slightly to keep her head from brushing the top, her forelegs dangling in front of her, tail coiled around her stomach.