The War of Odds (13 page)

Read The War of Odds Online

Authors: Linell Jeppsen

 

When the giant plucked him up out of the water and away from the nixies deadly charms, Nate saw Sara fall to the ground and his heart stopped in fear. Now, as he watched her stir and sit up, he hung his head in shame over his own weakness. Standing tall, Nate acknowledged his guilt and swore to Fang and Pollo that he would never let such a thing happen again.

The dwarven general studied the lad’s face and nodded. It was clear by the steely glint in the boy’s eye that he had learned his lesson well, and would be far more cautious in the days to come.

Pollo gazed up at Nate’s face and saw the love the young man felt for Sara reflected in his haunted eyes. Donning his hat, the sprite said, “I am sorry for yelling, Nate. The fae lands are hard for humans, even when we are not at war. I know you will do your best.” With those words, Pollo left to find Hissaphat.

A few minutes later, the rag-tag army moved on, and back into the drowning mists.

 
 

Chapter 14

 
 

“How much further to where we’re going?” Chloe moaned.
 
Her muscles still felt stretched and achy from the spider’s venom, and after what happened to Sara and Nate, she just wanted to get to where they were going, and get things over and done with.

Muriel looked up from her gloomy contemplation of the path in front of her feet, and growled, “Not too far, now.” Glancing sideways at the small, black-haired girl, she added, “I wouldn’t be in such a hurry, though…”

Sara sighed. After leaving the hag’s glamour, the company of soldiers fell into a funk of depression. The unicorn had fallen back, mortally offended by the rude handing of its horn by the pixie pinchers, and seemed inclined to leave the rest of the company to its fate. Even William, the minstrel, seemed disinclined to play his fiddle, and huddled miserably in his sodden cloak, limping in painful silence.

 

The giants had taken up their posts again, but Fruman seemed to be more morose than usual, constantly stopping and holding his massive hand down in a signal of danger ahead.

Peat, Pollo’s older brother, was haranguing his younger sibling and reached out, yet again, to give Pollo’s back a painful pinch.

“Knock it off, Peat!” Nate barked.

That was another thing…ever since their misadventure in the Red Cap’s valley, Nate had not spoken a word to Sara. He walked with the dwarves now, glaring about suspiciously, and fingering the hilt of his sword. He had been keeping an eye on Peat, who seemed inclined toward cruelty. Often, over the last few weeks in Sylvan’s village, Nate saw the sprite swat at lone pixies, pull a cat’s tail, or pick on other, smaller sprites. He was sick of it.

Stopping, he snarled, “The unicorn is leaving, Peat. Maybe you would like to catch a ride back home?”

William grinned and added, “I have been wanting to say something to that little fart for years.”

Peat flushed read, and glared up at the young man. He was very big and strong for a sprite but he was no genius. He tried to think of a scathing retort, but the best he could come up with was, “No, I’m here to watch over my brother!”

Nate rolled his eyes. “Well, how about doing your job, instead of being a big bully!”

Peat dropped his gaze in humiliation, and Hissaphat grinned. Stepping close to Pollo he said, “Will you ride, young sprite?”

Pollo, both shocked and grateful nodded, and hopped on Hiss’ back.

 

Sara watched the exchange with a thrill of pride. Gone now, was the sweet but geeky guy she had met and healed at the high school. His long brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, and his lips were set in determination. He acted like a young prince, or a knight, now that the company marched.

She had no way of knowing that Nate wanted nothing more than to walk by her side, and hold her in his arms. Gritting his teeth against the impulse, Nate glared ahead. Pollo and Fang were right, of course. He had been trained to help keep everyone safe, but at the first sign of trouble, he walked right into the hag’s trap like a lamb to slaughter.

Well, never again!
He swore silently. Nate had lagged behind a bit when he spoke to Peat, and he picked up speed to join the dwarves when Fruman stopped and gestured for everyone to get down and hide. The silent warning rippled through their ranks like a sudden breeze and Muriel’s army crouched down in the weeds and stunted trees.

Everyone heard the sounds of clashing metal, grunts of pain, and cries of agony. Creeping closer and peering through the tree line and down into a field, they saw that a battle was underway.

Chloe heard her friend Rondel gasp, and felt his sister shudder. She had joined the elves when Muriel became crabby and snappish. Now, she felt their sorrow, as if it were her own when she saw that elves were fighting a pitched battle in the field below.

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” Rondel murmured. “We play at war, yes, but never to the death. This is madness!” His large purple eyes swam with tears and he clasped Rowena’s hand in his as they watched the abomination-taking place below them.
 
The two tall, willowy elves with their finely drawn features, slashing brows, and large, pointed ears wept as their brothers and sisters fought and died in the fields below.

Chloe did not know who was who, but it was easy to see who was winning. Elves fought one another with long, shining blades of silver, but some of the fighter’s swords seemed to be dipped in a noxious green, swirling paint. The green swords flashed and slashed, etching emerald tracers in the air. Where they struck the victim simply, fell down dead. In addition, the green elves had help. Mottled grayish-green serpents flew through the air. They were like flying snakes with huge fang-filled maws that opened as they struck, biting and decapitating their prey.

The field was soaked and slippery with red and green blood… mostly red, and Chloe turned away, nauseous with fear. Nate was lying next to her, watching as well, and he reached for her hand in comfort.

“Come,” Muriel, hissed. “We must leave before we are spotted.”

 

Everyone crawled backward, into the sheltering trees. Then they paused, wondering how to get past the battling elves without being seen. Hissaphat had anticipated the problem, and while the others spied upon the elven skirmish, he and his soldiers took a fork in the path. It was a decent path with only a few trees in the way and maybe only a league, or two, out of their way to the Unseelie court.

He told the others his plans and they quickly agreed. The sounds of battle were coming closer now and no one wanted to be caught up in that deadly conflict, or have their heads lopped off by those hideous flying snakes.

The companions stepped off the widely used trail and into a green, mossy forest. The sound of the elven war vanished and a silence so profound it was almost deafening filled their ears. Sara stared about as a feeling both repulsive and compelling seized her senses.

“We are in Hestia’s woods, I believe,” Muriel whispered. “Take great care now, girl.”

Sara gulped as she heard a titter of laughter somewhere to her left. The dwarves and elves seemed to understand the gravity of their sudden situation. Although each and every one of them caressed the hilts and handles of their bows and blades, none dared to draw raw metal in this faery wood.

Hearing a familiar clop of hoof-steps, Sara turned around and saw that the unicorn had joined them once again. It bared its teeth in a grin and murmured, “This is my home, lady, and where I draw my strength.” Muriel rolled her yellow eyes in disgust, but the unicorn, whose name was Tandie, just nickered and swished its tail.

William pulled his violin out from under his cloak, and started to play a soft, haunting melody. His eyes seemed to look within, as if the music he sought to placate this strange wood with was buried and almost forgotten.

 

Sara stared into the murky green light of Hestia’s forest and saw many strange and mysterious things hiding in the trees, shrubs, fluttering leaves, and shadowed undergrowth. A hideous little creature with one eye peering north, and the other eye staring south regarded them from a fallen tree trunk. He smoked a long pipe and his dusky red skin seemed to shimmer and warp over his deformed body like a sack of live mice.

Looking up, Sara saw hobs, and Grigs, and what she thought was an Owling Byrrd. Remembering her lessons, Sara knew that Owling Byrrds were avian caretakers and were known to arrange accidents for fae and human hunters who made the mistake of harming a bird under their care.

It looked a little like an owl, but had long, wavering antennae and splayed legs, like a frog. It caught Sara’s eyes and blinked solemnly. Looking away with her heart in her throat, Sara peered to her right and saw a group of very large rodents sitting down at a rough-hewn table. They stood up, watching as Muriel’s army bowed politely and doffed their hats.

“Greetings, Sir Wottle,” Muriel called out. “Please pardon our intrusion.” The rat-like creature twitched its whiskers and sat back down.

Sara could only hope that these rat things would pardon them, for they were as large as mastiffs, with shiny square teeth and long, sharp claws. Sara grinned, thinking that she must be getting used to this land, because it just now dawned on her that all of the rats were dressed very formally, and seemed to be sitting down to high tea, hats and all.

 

Chloe had stopped, with Rondel and Rowena, and waited for Sara to catch up. Her eyes were wide as she said, “Wow! Do you hear that, Sara?”

At first, Sara frowned in consternation, and then her ears opened with a pop. Suddenly, she heard the sound of music; a swelling orchestra of singing, flutes, drums, and pipes. She heard the noise of a thousand voices, and thrilled to the gong of a million bells. William’s strings harmonized perfectly with the cacophony, as if he had known the song all along.

Her mouth dropped open in awe, and then the whole army came to a stop. Someone or something blocked their path. Moving forward so she could see, Sara felt a gentle hand pull her back. “Be careful, Sara. Stand here by me, okay?”

She blushed… it was Nate, standing protectively by her side. Sara had actually concluded that he was mad at her for what happened back in the magical but deadly valley. She did not blame him; really, they were both almost killed because of her stupid desire to find the source of the hag’s music. It did make her feel sad though. Sara realized she was crushing on Nate bad, and found herself hoping that when this trip to faery land was all over, they might start a relationship.

To see Nate standing slightly in front of her with his left arm shielding her body, and his right hand poised over his sword gave Sara hope that he did care, after all. She stared ahead and saw a young man dressed in jester’s clothes sitting cross-legged on a large boulder that sat squarely in the middle of the path. He was beautiful, in a fierce way, with a tangle of red curls flowing down his back and over one eye.

His clothes were striped red and green, and he wore a hat with many horns. Strangely, a large toad squatted amongst the folds of the man’s hat and it grinned, “So, Muriel’s army is on the march.”

The toad was as brown as mud and its green eyes glowed when the man answered, “It would appear so, and a rather motley bunch, to boot.”

The toads wide, rubbery mouth gaped open and its long tongue fell out and caressed the young man’s nose for a moment. Then it turned its attention upward and with a flick, the toads tongue grabbed an insect out of the air and darted back into its mouth.

Sara shuddered in revulsion, but Muriel, who did not seem easily intimidated, knelt on the ground, in fealty. After a moment, as if startled into sudden clarity, the elves, sprites and dwarves fell to their knees as well. Even the giants bowed low, and Sara and her friends followed suit, as the young man and his toad grinned. Only Tandie approached, golden horn glowing and lowered in submission. The man caressed the unicorn’s cheeks, smiling fondly.

“We ask your forgiveness, mighty queen for trespassing in your woods.” Muriel whispered with a humility Sara had never heard before in her teacher’s voice. Glancing at the boy and his toad in surprise, Sara saw something shimmer in the air where they sat, and then covered her eyes, gasping in awe.

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