Part 24 (1/2)
”Then we had better steer around the goblin camp to our west,” Echo said.
They steered around, cutting north. But as they followed a path beside a streamlet, they heard a commotion ahead. There was a crash and a yipe, as of an animal getting snared.
”Sirel!” Nepe exclaimed, as Flach recognized the sound. ”She's in trouble!”
They charged forward, and soon were there. Sure enough, the werewolf was caught in a raised net, that had evidently been set to spring up around anyone who stepped where it was hidden across the trail. This was goblin mischief!
The net had formed a bag, that gave Sirel no purchase for escape. It closed into a rope above, that pa.s.sed over a fork in a medium small tree and back down to the ground. The tree had been tied down, and when released had carried up the net, closing it about the prey. It was a clever enough device, the kind that goblins had been proficient at for centuries. All that was required for release was to untie the knot at ground level.
But the goblins were as fast as their party had been. Five of the tough little creatures charged up from the opposite extension of the path. ”Dinner!” one cried exultantly. ”b.i.t.c.h stew!”
”Keep quiet, 'Sander,” Nepe warned. ”Echo, you talk.” She hoped they understood: the goblins must not learn the full nature of this party.
”No you don't!” Echo cried. ”That's my wolf!”
The squat goblin chief paused, looking at her. ”Thy wolf be at thy side,” he said.
”Both be mine. Cut the b.i.t.c.h loose, or we shall have a reckoning.”
The four other goblins began to move forward, hefting their k.n.o.bby clubs. ”Methinks we shall eat e'en better than we thought,” the chief said.
”I will use my talent to hurt you,” Echo threatened.
”Ye be Protonite,” the chief replied. ”No magic.” Meanwhile, the four were coming close.
Echo pointed at the chief's head. ”Hurt!” she cried.
Something struck the big head. The goblin blinked, but seemed surprised rather than hurt. He brought his club around.
”Hurt!” Echo repeated, pointing to his feet.
Something crunched down on the chief's big toes. This time he reacted more vehemently. ”Ooooff!” He danced on one foot, holding the other.
Now Nepe understood what was happening. Invisible Lysander had gotten close, and was striking the goblin at Echo's command. First on the head, which was relatively impervious, then stomping a foot, which wasn't.
”Now cut down my wolf, or it will go hard with you,” Echo said.
”Listen, b.i.t.c.h-” the goblin started, and since his kind had no respect for wolves, this was no compliment.
Then his eyes goggled. He squirmed a moment, as if suffering some kind of seizure. Lysander was putting some kind of hold on him.
”Let her go,” the chief wheezed.
The four, about to attack Echo, were puzzled. ”But Chief-”
”I changed my mind,” the chief said, wincing. ”We want b.i.t.c.h stew not.” He winced again. ”We'll hunt for something else.”
”Well, I want b.i.t.c.h stew!” one of the four said. He took a step forward.
But Nepe, standing quietly, had extended a tendril along the path, making it the same shade of brown as the forest floor. It had reached the goblin's foot and fastened to it. When he took his step, she yanked-and he crashed down on his ugly face.
Echo strode forward herself, brus.h.i.+ng past the three surprised goblins. One tried to swing at her, and she touched his shoulder with her hand, seemingly lightly. But there was the force and hardness of metal in that soft-looking hand, and the goblin jumped, bruised.
Echo caught the rope that supported the net. She started to untie it.
”Hey, thou canst not-” the chief started. Then he winced again, and was silent.
Echo completed the job, and the rope separated. She clung to it, so that her weight counterbalanced the smaller weight of the wolf, and let Sirel down gently to the ground. The net fell open, and Sirel got to her feet and scrambled out.
The chief made one more effort to protest, but failed again. They walked past him and on down the path. When they were at a bend, the goblin gave an exclamation and crashed into the brush. They heard feet pounding.
”Let's get away from here!” Nepe said. They ran, and the pounding feet ran after them, gaining. None of them wanted to be close when the goblin chief recovered his composure. He surely had not lost his taste for b.i.t.c.h stew.
A shape loomed ahead. It was a bat. It flew down to the path, and took the form of a boy Nepe's age. ”If I'd known thou wast having so much fun, Nepe, I'd have hurried!” he said, running with them.
”Alien!” she exclaimed. ”You found us!”
”How could I miss thee? As a wolf thou be laughable!”
They slowed, satisfied that the goblins were not in close pursuit. ”Echo, Sirel, 'Sander, this is Alien, the next of our party,” Nepe gasped. ”The Red Adept's son, and”-she paused, not just for breath-”my boyfriend, when Troubot is not around.”
”We've met,” Sirel said. Troubot was her other self, in Proton. ”But mine accounting be with Flach, an my season come.”
Nepe changed the subject. ”Some of us can't travel well at night, so we must find a place to camp. We'll have to forage for some food, and maybe Alien can keep watch-”
”So long as I get to sleep by day,” Alien agreed.
Echo a.s.sumed her harpy form again and flew ahead to scout for a good camping site. The others walked at a relatively sedate pace. ”What happened?” Nepe asked Sirel.
Sirel a.s.sumed human form again. ”I spied the goblin camp, so circled around, and had almost completed the loop. Became I careless then.” She flushed in the human fas.h.i.+on; it was most embarra.s.sing, even for a half-grown pup.
Soon Oche returned. ”There be fruit trees near,” she screeched. ”And a field full o' rabbits.”
”Excellent!” Nepe said. Her legs were so tired now that she could hardly wait to dissolve into a relaxed puddle.
In the morning, somewhat refreshed, they set off anew. Nepe a.s.sumed her human form, with an especially thick ma.s.s of hair, and Alien clung to it and slept. He preferred to hang upside down, but could manage in any position when the need arose. Sirel and Echo, both in human form, walked beside each other, and Lysander brought up the rear, still invisible. At the rate they were going, they would never make it to the West Pole in time, but Nepe wasn't concerned about that. Their rate would change.
Then the last two members of their party intercepted them. A blue heron flew slowly overhead, and immediately Echo turned harpy and flapped up to hail it. The heron followed her down, and manifested as Belle, the purple unicorn with the iridescent mane. There was a healing scar on her rump. From her back a firefly flew, and manifested as Neysa, the black unicorn with white socks.
”Grandam Neysa!” Nepe exclaimed happily, hardly caring about the technicality that she was Flach's grandam.
Now Nepe rode Neysa, and Lysander rode Belle, whom he had met before. Oche perched on Belle's rump, careful not to dig in her claws, and Alien continued to snooze on Nepe's hair. Sirel resumed wolf form and ranged beside them. Their party of seven was complete, and ready to move swiftly.
The two unicorn mares were old, but were ready for this effort; their strength and endurance had been magically enhanced. They set off like fillies, achieving a hard gallop that covered the ground in a manner few other creatures could match. Nepe relaxed; they knew where they were going, and they knew the terrain. There should be no problems.
The unicorns were indeed prepared. They pounded ahead not only through the day, but through the night, pausing only for natural-function breaks. Sirel was unable to maintain the pace; she a.s.sumed girl form and joined Nepe on Neysa; the two together weighed about what Lysander did, so the unicorn was not overburdened.
It was not dull, riding for hours without surcease. The unicorns played music to the beat of their hooves, Neysa's harmonica and Belle's bells merging in extemporaneous melodies and harmonies. Along their route the little animals came out to listen and watch, for the sound and sight of traveling unicorns was always special. These mares might be old, but they remained glorious in their motion.