The Iron Locket (The Risen King) (13 page)

Pulling the locket from its hiding place, she raised her eyebrows at it questioningly. When it didn't respond, she mentally kicked herself for being stupid enough to think it would answer her questions and shoved it back under her shirt.

Her grandfather paused at a downed tree to check the phone again. He tapped a few buttons and waited. When it didn't respond, he frowned and glared at the ground. Aiofe followed suit. Her magnified vision easily picked up David's tracks.

"That way," she said, pointing to the west.

Aloysius raised a bushy white eyebrow at her, but said nothing. Trusting his granddaughter's instincts, he turned west, following the path she indicated. Shortly, the trail met up with a thin stream. It followed along the edge and here and there Aiofe could see David's footprints interspersed with the smaller duck-like tracks of the emerald sprite. She had never seen an emerald sprite before, but she had seen a sapphire sprite that she had helped her grandfather track back in her early teens. They were odd little creatures, with tufts of hair that reminded her of dandelions in the fall just before they lost all their seeds. They were short, not much taller than a swan, with wiry limbs and webbed feet. Their fingers were long and splayed, the digits spaced evenly around circular hands.

Aiofe leaned down to pluck a wispy tendril of green hair from a footprint. Based on the nearly invisible indentations, she surmised that this sprite was very young, not yet considered an adult in the world of the faeries. She was examining the flowery piece of hair when she heard a shout. Her grandfather, just a few steps ahead of her, heard it too and veered off in the direction of the yelling. They tore through the trees, Aiofe still amazed at how agile her grandfather could be at his age when his adrenalin kicked in. She normally had trouble keeping up with him, but this time, she found herself matching his pace.

When they reached a small clearing, her grandfather stopped beside a tree, his head twitching slightly as his eyes darted around, looking for signs of the other hunter. "There," he said, his hand briefly pointing to the right. Aiofe followed him cautiously around the edge of the woods. She held her bow at the ready, already nocked with an arrow. She could see the body lying on the ground beneath some shrubs and her heart contracted in her chest. She willed herself not to look at it, not to think about it. She focused on tracking the faery that was responsible instead. When they reached the bushes, her grandfather knelt down beside David. Blood pooled underneath the younger man, matting his dark hair to his forehead.

"He's alive."

Aiofe felt a weight rise off her and she found she could breathe again. David groaned and his eyes fluttered open.

"The sprite..." He tried to sit up but fell back to the ground with a grunt.

"Don't you worry about that. We'll get it. Which way did it go?"

David's arm raised out of the dirt slightly, pointing in the direction they had been running. Aiofe focused her eyes on the far side of the clearing, scanning each tree rapidly. At first, all she could see were the muted greens and browns of the forest. Nothing unusual. Then there was a brief flicker, like the sun catching a green trout in a stream. It was gone in a flash, but she knew what it was.

"I got it," she cried as she took off at a run across the clearing. She could hear her grandfather shout behind her, but she had caught the scent and ignored him. As she neared the other side, she saw the little sprite crouched beside a tree behind some bushes. The bright green tuft of hair on its head stood out at all angles, swaying in a nearly nonexistent breeze. Its little body was bare and genderless, as was the case with all sprites. They were vehemently against clothing, something Aiofe never understood. When their eyes met, the little creature started, surprised to have been found so easily. She was nearly upon it when it moved.

"You!" Its voice was high and shrill, painful to her hypersensitive ears. It pointed an accusing finger at her before it took off through the trees.

"Aiofe, stop. Wait!" Her grandfather was just behind her, and she glanced back. He grabbed her arm gently. "Be careful. Sprites are small, but they're as fierce as a wolf when cornered."

Aiofe nodded once and headed off through the woods, track the sprite's path as it darted between the trees. "Is David alright?" she asked as her grandfather trailed behind her.

"He will be. He was hit with a rock, knocked out. But I think it looks worse than it is."

Aiofe fell silent, vowing to get the sprite if it was the last thing she did. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was overreacting, but her body thrummed with adrenaline and she pushed on. A flash of green caught her eye and she took off at a run.

"Aiofe, wait!"

Ignoring her grandfather's pleas, she swerved around tree trunks and crashed through bushes, following the little pale body. She would not let the sprite escape. She hesitated only briefly when it disappeared into a patch of briars. The thorns tore at her clothing and tugged at her hair, but she pushed on. Her grandfather's shouts echoed behind her, growing faint, but the glimpses of bright green ahead urged her on.

"Aiofe!"

Aloysius's last shout was drowned out by a loud boom that echoed through Aiofe's head like the ringing of hammer. The world flashed white, blinding her completely, and she fell to her knees, her hands pressed over her ears. Blinking rapidly, her vision slowly cleared, bringing the world back into focus. She still knelt in a briar patch, that was clear, but something had changed. She could hear the clang of metal upon metal and numerous voices shouting, mingled with the cries of those in pain. Standing up, she worked her jaw to clear the ringing in her ears as she worked her way through the rest of the thorns to the edge of the bushes.

The sight that greeted her made her eyes go so wide they hurt. Stretched out before her was a battlefield unlike any she had ever seen before. Faeries of all shapes and sizes clashed against one another, the spilt blood mingling to form a gruesomely vivid rainbow of colors. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the emerald sprite she had been chasing disappear into the fray, but she stood where she was, rooted to her spot out of fear and wonder.

A loud yipping broke into her reverie. It was a sound that chilled her to the bone, reminding her of the many nights she had laid in bed as a child, shivering with fear as the coyotes in the woods chased down whatever unlucky animal they had found. She knew that whatever made that sound now wasn't a coyote. It was ten times worse, maybe a hundred, and so was its cry.

She felt her insides clench and gripped her bow tightly, checking that it was properly nocked as a pack of large, skeletal red dogs broke from the battle and surrounded her. She raised her bow and aimed, but held back. She was hemmed in, unable to run. They could tear her apart in seconds and there would be nothing she could do to stop them.

An elegant white horse trotted up behind the dogs, snorting steam as it pranced and pawed. On its back was one of the most beautiful women Aiofe had ever seen. She had plump red lips, long brown hair, and a look that said she was gorgeous and she knew it. The creatures broke apart, letting the horse through. The woman steered it up to Aiofe and looked down at the red head.

"Well, what do we have here..."

*~*~*

The

Hunted

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*~*~*

FOURTEEN

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Arthur's blood sang in his veins as the thrill of battle swept over him. He slashed at faeries on either side of him, his focus narrowing while his eyes darted over the heads below him until they settled on the black hair of the faery maiden Drakka. She was surrounded by short beasts with red skin, long pointed tails, and claws as sharp as scythes. Slamming his heels into the sides of his steed, Arthur shouted a wordless cry and plunged through the battling creatures around him. Most of them scrambled out of his way, but one unlucky faery was caught beneath his horse's heavy hooves, its gurgling cry cut short as blue matter spattered the grass beneath its crushed body.

As they neared the circle of red and black, Arthur felt his steed's muscles bunch. Leaning forward, he gripped the reins tightly, just as the beast shoved itself off the ground, kicking up clumps of dirt and grass behind him. Even as the horse's front hooves touched down inside the circle of small red creatures, its back hooves lashed out, smashing into the face of the closest. It crumpled instantly into a heap, its head a mass of pulp. Arthur leapt from the horses back, slashing at another of the creatures just as it darted in to tear at Drakka's calf. The faery spared Arthur a quick glance, the flash of surprise lighting her eyes when she noticed her attacker falling from his sword.

"I had it," she said, her voice steady as she swiped at a little red body that darted in at her. The creature bared a mouth full of shark teeth as her blade nicked its shoulder.

"I'm sure you did," Arthur said as he smashed another head with the hilt of his sword. "But I was bored and you looked like you were having too much fun."

Drakka grunted in amusement as she pressed her back against Arthur's. Together they spun, working in sync to fend off the pack of vicious creatures.

"What are these things?" Arthur stifled a groan of pain as sharp teeth sank into his lower arm. The creature latched on, its jaws denting the armor as its claws found skin unprotected by anything more than cloth. He shook his arm, trying to dislodge the thing unsuccessfully.

The comforting weight of the faery princess against his back disappeared momentarily as she spun around, her blade slicing through Arthur's attacker and stopping just shy of his own thigh. With a satisfied smirk, she ripped the sword from the falling body and returned to her previous position, just in time to spear another of the creatures in the gut.

"Blood whelps," she said with a growl. "Nasty things. They run in packs and feed like... Do you know what a hyena is? Duck."

Arthur doubled himself over as half of a blood whelp went flying overhead, spilling black innards and red goo everywhere. "No, I don't know what a hyena is," he said as he straightened. He looked around at the pile of bodies surrounding him. His horse had taken out a few more of the creatures and Drakka was finishing off the only one remaining that was still capable of fighting.

"They're scavengers, mostly. Feeding off the weak and injured, or stealing from others when they can't get their own. Blood whelps make hyenas look like saints."

Arthur laughed. "They consider you weak? I would hate to fight you when you are not."

Drakka tossed him a smirk as a group of his knights rode up to him accompanied by Zela. Tristan had a small cut on his cheek and blood pooled on the cloth just under Percival's shoulder, but they were otherwise intact. Lancelot jumped down from his horse, taking up a position of guard beside Arthur. Balan and Balin flanked Tristan on their horses, both looking in different directions, their blades still drawn.

"Fairing well, sir?" Tristan asked as he nocked an arrow and sank it into one of the blood whelps still squirming on the ground.

Arthur wiped the blood off his blade with a cloth he had tucked into his belt. "Just fine, Tristan. How is the fight elsewhere?"

"We are holding steady. The enemy's soldiers are not well trained and the queens' armies are some of the best fighters I have seen. Our opponents fall easily, and although they are numerous, I do not see them lasting very long at this rate. They will soon need to fall back and regroup."

"Very good. Let--"

Off to the east, the sky brightened for a brief moment to an opaque white and a sharp crack rang out across the land. Drakka narrowed her eyes as she stared at where the strange lightening had flashed, suspicion and worry sitting heavily on her brow.

"What is it?" Arthur stepped up beside the black-haired faery, concerned at the break in her normally unshakable exterior.

"Someone or something has entered Faery, most likely without permission. Why they would do so in the middle of battle, I do not know. It could be reinforcements for the enemy."

Arthur frowned. "Tristan, take a few of the knights and go check it out, please."

A booming howl blotted out Tristan's response, causing the ground to vibrate beneath their feet.

"A mountain troll" came Drakka's snarled answer to Arthur's unasked question.

Arthur followed her outstretched blade. Bodies were flying through the air as something of enormous size plunged through the crowd, tossing anything it saw as an obstruction out of its way. A bulging blue head quickly came into view, followed by two gigantic arms. He glanced back to Tristan. "Go, quickly."

"But, sir...."

"We will be fine. Go."

With a swift nod, Tristan spun his horse around. "Percival, Balan, Balin, with me."

"I'll come, too." Zela tossed Percival a wink, making the young man blush fiercely. "Good luck with the troll, Drakka. Try not to break a nail." The southern princess's laugh tinkled back to them as the group took off across the field.

Arthur clenched his jaw as his knights disappeared into the opposite direction and turned his attention back to the troll. Lancelot squared up beside him, placing himself unconsciously in front of his king. Raising his sword, he sent a cockeyed grin at Drakka. "Let us have some fun, shall we?"