The War of Odds (22 page)

He held the bodies of two water nymphs in his giant fists. One of the nymphs appeared to be dead; her beautiful body was limp and her long, seaweed green hair was burnt to a crisp, framing charred bones and melted flesh. The other nymph wailed piteously, struggling with all her might to wriggle free from the giant’s clasp but Sara could tell that her fight was in vain.

The huge man was about to plunge his victim in the fiery pool in which he stood, but paused, when he saw himself suddenly surrounded. The hellhounds bared their teeth, snarling as the Sasquatches heaved their mighty spears and war hammers. The two elves strung their silver bows. Hissaphat spat and his passenger, Pollo, pointed his little wooden stick.

“Djin, what are you doing?” Rondel cried in shock. “Why would a mighty fire spirit, like you, do such a horrendous thing?”

The Djin paused for a moment and used the nymph’s body to scratch his head.
 
She squealed in useless indignation but he ignored her cries. The Djin stared at them and spoke, “My people… the spirits of fire, are at war with this one’s folk,” he shook the poor nymph wrathfully as she sobbed in pain.

“Djin let her go… NOW!” Onio screamed, and his tribe brothers shook their long spears. The Djin looked confused for a moment, as though he, too, wondered at his own actions. Then he roared in rage. Dropping the nymph, he balled up a mighty fist and struck out at the Sasquatches.

They leapt back out of range but the djin’s clenched fist hit Rowena instead. The female elf was thrown off her feet. She cried out in fright as she flew through the air and landed in the pool of fire. She bobbed to the fiery pool’s surface for a moment and caught her brother’s eye as her long, glossy hair turned to ash and her skin melted like candle wax.

“Sister, no!” Rondel gasped, but then the air filled with spears. The four Sasquatches threw their spears as hard as they could, piercing the djin’s body with the force of hammer blows. One spear entered his throat, another stabbed his heart and two more tore at the tender flesh of the giant creature’s groin. Every blow was mortal and the Djin swayed in shock.

As though awaking from a dream, the Djin gazed down at his ruined body and whispered, “What has happened? Why do the mighty Sasq pierce me with their darts?” Then he closed his molten blue eyes and fell over backwards with a crash. As soon as the Djin fell, the flames disappeared. In their place was a small stream and a tiny, round pool of water, fed by a gentle, tinkling waterfall.

Rondel fell to his knees and tore at his hair in grief. Then, as the Sasquatches approached the dead Djin cautiously, he began to sing a song of mourning. His voice filled the cavern and the Sara’s heart with sadness, but she ran over to where Nate knelt on the ground by the surviving water nymph. The poor thing wept over the burned body of her sister and pulled her long hair as she wailed in sorrow. Terrible, burnt patches of skin still smoldered on the water faeries body and Nate murmured softly trying, as best he could, to comfort the djin’s victim.

Sara knelt down on her knees and said, “Ma’am, can I try to heal your injuries?”

The nymph stopped crying long enough to scrutinize the young human women who addressed her and then she burst into tears again. Sara touched her hands to the finger shaped burn marks on the creature’s green skin and took a deep breath. Then, she sent her healing power into the water nymph’s body and mind, watching as the creature flinched and then relaxed as the healing took the painful burns away and soothed her mind.

Chloe stood with Rondel and the Sasquatches. The elf was stoic now that his song had ended, but his voice quavered with grief as he said, “The Djin is a misunderstood species. They are often vilified as being cruel and capricious but usually they are benign in spirit and try to temper their nature to the good of all things, in all worlds.” He drew in a shaking breath and whispered, “I cannot believe that this Djin destroyed my sister…” Turning away, the elf strode to the far side of the chamber. Chloe saw his shoulders heave with silent sobs of grief.

Onio followed the elf with sad eyes but when he turned back, he muttered, “Well, this Djin was clearly mad and he needed to be stopped.” His tribe brothers nodded their agreement and then turned at the sound of a splash.

Chloe saw her friends, Sara and Nate watching the still rippling pool of water at their feet. Walking toward them, she asked, “What happened?”

Nate shrugged, but Sara answered, “The nymph was badly hurt and I tried to heal her wounds. I think I did okay, but as soon as I was done, she jumped up and dove into the water.”

“You did fine, Sara.” William said.
 
“I think that the nymph was just frightened… maybe of us, as much as what happened to her sister.” He eyed Sara solemnly and asked, “What about you? Are you alright?”

Nate watched carefully as Sara said yes, and then he walked over to help the Sasquatches pull their spears from the djin’s body. Sara suddenly realized that she really was okay… maybe because the nymph’s hurts were painful, but not particularly dangerous…
or maybe,
she thought,
I am finally getting stronger!

The hellhounds dragged the djin’s large body to the back of the cave. Hissaphat wound his body around Rondel’s ankles in gruff affection. Pollo and Pike filled their water skins with water from the pool. Sara and Chloe waited for a moment and then followed as the Sasquatches formed a loose line. After a moment, or two, Rondel joined the column as the companions walked the last, final miles into the Unseelie court.

Chapter 24

They walked for about a half a mile and Sara knew that the Unseelie court was very near, as the tunnel widened after leaving the little pool area where the Djin attacked the water nymphs. The walls of the courtyard rose hundreds of feet in the air, and the vaulted ceilings arched high overhead, glittering with silver and gold. They were now in the great hall of Unseelie.

Small pools dotted the area and elaborately carved fountains spouted water in tinkling cascades or gushed in torrential gusto. There were statues shaped like tiny, stone- fish and marble maidens, leaping whales, and splashing porpoises.
 
Beautiful, tiled pathways wound around the fountains, and cleverly, pruned shrubbery reflected the pools occupants. Each pool boasted marble benches for sitting and awaiting the summons of Timaron, the king.

Gorgeous tapestries hung from the walls, glittering in every hue of the rainbow. They depicted scenes from the Great Hunt and the dark court; Unseelie kings and queens, dreadful dragons, terrible trolls, ghoulish goblins and pernicious pooks. Alongside these dark visions though, other tapestries heralded scenes of the Seelie court.
 
Splendid scenes of pixies and sprites, unicorns and Quempels, Grigs and Pans filled the walls as though in tribute to all faerie creatures, light and dark, and the magical land they occupied equally.

It was beautiful, regal, spectacular, and deathly quiet. There was an air of neglect and abandonment within the great hall, which made the hair on Sara’s neck stir uneasily. She was not the only one who felt the cold menace within these walls. The Sasquatches hefted their spears and Hissaphat growled. Rondel strung his bow, and snapped, “All of you stay close to me. Evil abides here, although for now, it hides from our sight.”

Old William looked down at his cloak and stared as his the violin let out a squeak. He shrugged, and fetched the instrument from its soft covering. Holding the fiddle up to his shoulder, William stared about quizzically, unsure whether to try playing, or to remain still and let the violin do what it felt best.

Sara saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to stare at one of the statues. It looked like a griffin, a large bird with the body of a lion. As she watched, one of the creature’s stone eyes trembled and opened wide. The look of horror and pain in that golden orb shook Sara’s soul and she stepped back with a cry of dismay. Looking to her left she saw that many of the other statues stirred as well, trying as hard as they could to communicate their predicament.

Rondel let out a shout. “Get back, all of you!” The teens turned and ran with the others toward the back of the large cave. Once gathered together, Rondel said, “There is only one creature that can do this to other magical beings. There is a dragon here!”

Suddenly, two large doors creaked open at the back of the courtyard. The companions were too far away to see properly but they noticed firelight reflecting off the walls inside the chamber and smelled something foul on the air… the odor of rotting meat.

Onio turned to the elf and said, “If you wish to cure the faerie king, we must take this opportunity, Rondel. My warriors have fought dragons before and, right now, I think the beast has either fled or is sleeping.”

Rondel nodded in agreement, and the party moved slowly toward the entranceway. They stayed as close to the walls as they could and got within about fifty feet of the large doors, when the elf let out a muffled gasp.

There was a large pool directly in front of the entrance. The statuary was beautiful and elaborate. There was an elf, two sprites, a dozen pixies, and a couple of bearded dwarves. They were all frozen in place, encased and immobile within their last frenzied actions. The female elf still held her bow aloft, her arrow suspended and held in place, somehow, on its last trajectory.

“Mother… ” Rondel gasped, weeping, and Pike wailed as well, saying, “Those are my cousins, Pewter and Brand!”

Pollo gazed at the sprites sadly, adding, “Those sprites are from the Bluebeard clan… a village close to my own!”

The Sasquatches growled in alarm and William whispered, “Get behind me, kids. This is magic of the darkest kind. From what I have heard, dragons usually only burn and eat humans, not faeries. This dragon has been ensorcelled!”

Pollo pointed his little stick at the elf female and muttered something under his breath. A ray of pink light shot out from the end of the wand and the elf’s face stirred under the stone. Then, her beautiful lavender eyes opened and she blinked at the sight of her son. Pollo continued to work his magic, and her lips moved.

It took a great deal of effort, but she was able to say, “Run…” before the whole statue wobbled and fell over into the water with a thunderous crash. The waves in the pool thrashed, heaving madly and the wide green eyes of a dragon surfaced, peering at the intruders malevolently. Then two nostrils, as big as garage doors, broke the surface.

Steam and super-heated air escaped the beast’s nose. William and the teens ducked behind a large stone pillar, escaping injury, but Rondel was too close. Instantly, the elf turned to stone, and Pike let out a cry of rage. He threw his rock hammer at the dragon’s eye and, at the same moment, Borax the Hellhound snarled and leapt at the beast’s face. It landed next to the dragon’s right nostril and latched its long fangs onto the fiery flesh.

The dragon let out a roar that was almost deafening. Seizing the opportunity, the Sasq warriors threw their spears. Most of them glanced off the beast’s plated hide but one struck true, landing in the dragons other eye. William, meanwhile, placed his violin on his shoulder and began to play a tune. The dragon rose up out of the water, hissing and danced on its tail, like a charmed cobra.

Its eyes were bleeding and Borax still worried at its right nostril. Flamelick lunged at the beast’s tail and latched on tightly, so that its body flew through the air in convulsive jerking movements. Nate stepped out from behind the pillar, joining his companions. Fighting alongside the Sasquatches, the young man poked and cut at the dragons flailing limbs, while Pollo stood next to the girls.

Hissaphat screeched and prowled the shoreline, stabbing at the dragon’s feet with his claws whenever they came into reach. The dragon opened its mouth and roared with rage again, and Onio threw a spear as hard as he could into the beast’s fiery maw. The spear flew into the dragon’s mouth and out the back of its head, pinning it to the wall.

The monster’s tail thrashed a few more times and then all was still. William panted and heaved, exhausted, as always, after wielding his magical instrument. Nate and the Sasquatches ran over to see if they could help Rondel, the stricken elf. Pollo pointed his tiny stick again but the exhaustion on his face was plain to see.

Sara bent down and said, “Let me try, Pollo, okay?” He nodded in defeat and backed away to stand by Hissaphat, who licked the sprite’s cheek with affection.