The Last Adventure of Constance Verity (8 page)

“Misunderstandings,” replied Connie.

“Why didn't you say so?” he replied. “I'm sure if you explain to King Oberon that you slew his favorite wyvern because of a simple misunderstanding, he'd be sure to forgive you and overlook those iron knuckledusters in your back pocket while he's at it. Surprised the Guard hasn't sniffed you out for those things alone. You've got either to be desperate or stupid or both to bring something like that into this city.”

“They're just knuckledusters,” said Tia.

“She's new to this,” said Connie. “Iron is contraband in the Fae Realms. In the wrong hands, it can do a lot of damage.”

“And who says you're the right hands?” asked Scurm. “You don't see me walking into your world with a pocketful of uranium, do you?”

“I can handle it.”

“Maybe I should have one of those,” said Tia. “Just in case things get dangerous.”

Connie shook her head. “I can handle it. You can't.”

“Fine. Sidekick here.” Tia saluted. “I'll defer to your judgment.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” Connie asked Scurm.

“Not. I thought that was clear. And don't threaten me with those iron pounders. We both know you wouldn't risk using them on me.”

“Fair enough.” Connie held up a large gold coin. It sparkled in the candlelight. “Guess I'll just take my forbidden treasure and go home.”

Scurm dropped his crystal ball. It rolled across the desk and hit the floor, cracking open. The mysterious blue mists within leaked out as the globe went black. He didn't seem to care at the moment.

“That's not what I think it is, Verity.”

“Just a coin from the legendary treasure of the last leprechaun king,” she said. “The last coin, in fact. I should know. I threw the rest in a volcano to save the Fae Realms from his curse. Nearly got killed for my trouble. Not that old King Oberon ever thanked me for that.”

Scurm's eyes glinted with his desire for the coin. Literally. They flashed with green and blue. “Does it have any juice left in it?”

“Yep. Not enough to be dangerous anymore, but enough that an enterprising goblin with some imagination could use for all kinds of profitable mischief. But if you don't want it . . .”

The veins on Scurm's pointed ears throbbed prismatic blue. Goblins were lousy poker players.

A black shadow rose up behind Connie. It stretched two limbs toward her.

“Look out!” Tia dove at the creature, but she passed harmlessly through it.

Connie punched the creature in the chest with her knuckleduster. It howled and broke apart. It attempted to reform, but she smashed its head-like protrusion. Shrieking like a banshee, it dissolved into a brackish puddle at her feet.

“All right, all right,” said Scurm. “Never mind, Jerry.”

Grumbling, Jerry the puddle sloshed his way to a corner.

“Can't blame a guy for trying, can you?” said Scurm with a smile.

Connie helped Tia to her feet. “You wouldn't be you if you didn't try, Scurm. Do we have a deal or not?”

“We've got a deal.”

He held out a hand, and Connie tossed him the coin. His ears twitched in rapid circles as he hopped out from behind his workbench and gestured for them to follow him downstairs.

“Can we trust him?” asked Tia.

“Scurm never goes back on a deal,” said Connie.

They followed him into a basement outfitted with a networked array of crystal balls, rune-laden stone tablets, and mysterious color-changing liquids in beakers and vials. Winged frogs zipped around in a spherical cage. A kaleidoscope of rainbow-colored smoke swirled out of a cauldron in one corner. Everything was wired up to a large mirror on the wall.

“Nice setup,” said Connie.

“Don't touch anything!” Scurm said.

“Relax. If you move this a little to the left”—she pushed a glass pyramid an inch—“you can increase your harmonic convergence ratio by four or five percent.”

The frogs cheerfully chirped. A rack of crystals flashed in sequence, sounding a soft melody.

“I studied a little under the Oracles of Delphi. I could never manage to see the future, but I picked up a few things.”

Grumbling, Scurm poured an entire skull's worth of slime
into the cauldron before tossing in a wiggling something. “Name I'm looking for?”

“Grandmother Willow.”

He scribbled onto a piece of parchment and added it to the cauldron.

“The registry is behind heavy concealment wards. I can pierce them, but odds are good that it'll lead the Guard right to us.”

“Aren't you worried about what they'll do to you when they catch you?” asked Tia.

“They never catch me,” he said with a smug smile. “And I can lose all this gear. But you two—especially you, Verity—you're going to get captured and pitted.”

“Pitted?”

“You didn't tell her about the Pit of Vipers?” asked Scurm.

“Vipers? Like poisonous snakes?”

“There haven't been snakes in there for a thousand years.” He chuckled. “They were all eaten by other things Oberon tossed in there.”

“She knows the score,” said Connie. “Let us worry about that.”

“It's your call.” He traced a feather on the mirror, creating glowing glyphs upon the surface.

“What other things?” whispered Tia.

“It's not important,” whispered Connie.

“Then why aren't you telling me?”

“You wanted to come along.”

“I didn't think I'd be thrown into a pit of
things
within the first two hours.”

“We won't get caught,” said Connie. “And if we are caught—”

“You're not filling me with confidence.”

“If we are caught,” Connie continued, “which we won't be, but if we are, I'd be pitted. They'd more than likely send you back to the mortal world with a slap on the wrist. Maybe a cautionary curse, like all the food you eat screaming when you bite into it.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“We won't get caught.”

Scurm finished his rune. The mirror fogged up and thumped as if something on the other side of the glass was smacking against it. “Ladies, I need some quiet here. This is the tricky part.”

He chanted softly, and stuff started happening. The frogs chirped. The cauldron belched forth small flying bugs that crawled along the ceiling. A mist rolled across the floor, and something small and furry crawled around in it, rattling and growling.

The mirror rippled and spit out a glass marble that floated into his open hand. He tossed the marble at Connie. “There's your godmother. Now we should all get out of here before Ether Security—”

The cauldron jumped five feet in the air and hovered there.

“Hmmm. Even faster than I expected.”

The cauldron spit out five pixies, all dressed in black suits. They spoke in unison.

“You have violated secured ether,” they chimed in melodious
unison. “An apprehension squad has been dispatched to this location. Your cooperation will be noted, as will any resistance.”

“You got me.” Scurm held up his hands. “But I'm small potatoes compared to that lady over there.”

The pixies flittered around Connie and Tia.

“Constance Verity, you shall be detained. Do not resist.”

The diminutive agents sparkled as they wove a web of magic around Connie and Tia. It congealed into a hard prismatic shell.

“Sorry, Verity.” Scurm shrugged. “Our deal was I'd get the info, not keep you from being captured. A goblin has to watch his back. Better you pitted than me.”

“You betraying son of a bitch,” said Tia.

“You are in possession of illegal weaponry,” said the pixies. “Surrender it immediately.”

The pixies screeched a claxon that was both terrifying and hypnotic as Connie slipped on her iron knuckledusters.

“Cover your face.”

She punched the crystal shell, and it shattered into dust. Some got into Tia's eyes, stinging and blurring her vision.

The magic mirror spit out a two-headed ogre dressed in riot gear. He leveled a wand at Connie and unleashed a bolt of lightning. She reflected it with her iron fists and knocked him over.

The outmatched pixies whirled around, shrieking, but made no move against them.

“Where did that little traitorous bastard go?” asked Tia.

“Doesn't matter. I always knew he'd bug out on us, but he kept his end of the deal. We have to get out of here.”

They ran upstairs and out the front door, coming face-to-face with an entire tactical squad of ogre wizards, elvish sharpshooters, and some kind of turtle dragon.

“That was fast,” said Tia.

“Cover your ears.”

The elves unleashed their arrows. The wizards threw shrieking fireballs and jets of scalding steam. The dragon didn't do much.

Connie banged her fists together, and with a soft
clink
, the world exploded.

T
ia uncovered her ears and opened her eyes. The ogres and elves lay sprawled on the ground. Cracks ran through the concrete, and all the nearby windows had been shattered by the shockwave.

Only Connie and Tia remained on their feet, protected by their mortal nature. Connie checked on an unconscious security pixie. They were just doing their job. Her iron knuckledusters glowed a soft orange.

“You weren't kidding about those things!” Tia shouted over the ringing in her ears.

Connie pointed to her own ears and shook her head. Not being able to cover them herself had left her deafened.

Storm clouds gathered overhead. They rumbled with angry thunder as a funnel spat out a twelve-foot blue giant crackling with electricity and six hounds, each the size of a small car. The wolves had ram horns, tusks, and scorpion tails. All the static in the air puffed out their thick fur coats. They were
almost cuddly if one could ignore their slavering jaws and baleful red eyes.

“Damn it,” said Connie. “I didn't think they'd pull out the big guns so quickly. Stick close to me.”

“Don't have to tell me twice.”

“What?”

Tia nodded to Connie.

The giant put a horn to his lips and sounded a deep bellow. The hounds charged forward, and Connie moved to meet them. Tia trailed behind, keeping her head down.

The lead hound pounced. Connie landed a punch under its snout, sending it tumbling away. She yanked Tia out of the way of the snapping bite of a second hound as Connie slammed it on the nose. She wove through the onslaught, alternately punching beasts and pulling Tia out of danger. Once a hound's teeth ripped Tia's sleeve and scraped her arm. Not deep enough to break the skin, but a welt was left behind. Then Connie socked the creature, and it went soaring down the block. It landed with a clap of thunder and a burst of lightning.

It was all old hat to Connie, but even Tia could sometimes forget how dangerous a foe Connie could be when cornered. The knuckledusters helped, transforming her into a force of nature. One strike was more than enough to put down each of the hounds, though it did take her twice as long as it should've because she was watching out for Tia.

The last hound flattened its ears and backed away with its tail tucked between its legs. Its master lashed it with a whip of
lightning, but Connie stepped under the lash. She deflected it with her iron.

“Don't do that,” she said.

The sneering giant went for the sword on his belt.

“Don't do that, either,” she said.

He drew his weapon and, howling, rushed at her. She caught the blow of his sword. Fae metal shattered against her iron. The giant's weapon exploded in his hand. He fell to his knee, clutching his wounded limb. Connie hopped onto his boot and belted him across the jaw. He fell over with a crash.

“They never listen.”

“Is that a good thing?” Tia pointed to fresh clouds swirling overhead. “That can't be a good thing, right?”

The clouds spit out a tremendous serpent. The monster got stuck halfway in the funnel. Its many heads snapped and snarled as it struggled to free itself.

“Can you take that?” asked Tia.

“Not without destroying a city block,” said Connie.

Her knuckledusters burned with a hard white light. Tia imagined a nuclear reactor on the verge of exploding, even though she knew that wasn't how reactors worked in reality. This wasn't reality. This was the Fae Realms.

“We can't fight that thing,” said Connie. “Not here.”

She turned to the hound and held out her hands beneath its muzzle. The creature whimpered, tucking its scorpion tail beneath its legs. She petted it between the eyes and scratched behind its ear. The monster nuzzled her.

The seven-headed dragon twisted itself nearly free.

“What's the plan, then?” asked Tia.

Connie, on the back of the hound, held out her hand. “Hop on.”

She helped Tia up. Tia wasn't certain whether the dragon or the scorpion tail hanging just over her head made her more nervous.

“How are you doing this?”

“I learned how to talk with wolves from a shaman I know. These guys might be bigger, but the principles are basically the same. They're actually smarter than wolves, so it's a little easier.”

The serpent fell out of the cloud portal. It landed with a shattering thud. Its long, thick body crushed one of its heads. The mangled head sagged as its brothers struggled to clear their senses.

“Hold on tight,” said Connie.

The hound didn't so much run as fly with a paw touching the ground every now and then to keep gravity from pitching a fit. Tia clung to handfuls of white fur. Wyverns soared overhead, spitting fireballs. Gryphon-drawn carriages with sirens and ogre peace officers trailed in pursuit, firing off lightning bolts from wands. The wolf danced gracefully through the barrage as the street exploded around them. A harpy zipped downward and nearly snatched Tia away. Connie punched it, and the harpy was knocked away in a shower of feathers.