But I know Gnomes are secretive beings; I will search the Dragon Rites one last time for an answer to guide me forward, in case he doesn’t crack.
While the Dragon Tongue plotted ways to get the Gnome, Gelbus Cogspark, to talk, they had no idea they were being watched from afar.
A party of Orcs, summoned by the Widow, had made their way to the small, lakeside town of Ashbourne.
Urlik, the Orcs’ lead scout, stood on the same mountain pass that Maria, Ignatius, Frieda, and Sherlock had come from.
His troops, like the wanderers, had gone through the Trials of the Cave of Delusion. Urlik had expected the worst, knowing that the blasted man of the mountain would be putting them through the wringer, and had mentally prepared himself to lose up to two-thirds of his army.
He did not blame himself, however. The Widow wanted the utmost haste in catching the witch from Earth and the fabled Ferod of Dominion, before they figured out what was needed to make the music box work its magic. So any lost soldiers would be pinned on the giant Arachnid bitch.
As if it will give her trouble falling asleep at night, Urlik thought bitterly. He raised the spyglass to his disfigured face, and looked out among the sleepy lake town.
Not much was happening there.
A few cloaked men congregated around a platform, prisoners in the stockades. He was too far away to make out their faces—not like Urlik cared much.
“They’re distracted,” he barked toward his soldiers. “We must strike now.”
“At night, sire?” Recneps asked. “They’ll have night watchmen on the walls.”
Urlik snarled. “Then we’ll gut them all and tear those walls down.”
A small murmur of agreement came from the crowd as they raised their weapons to the dark sky.
Urlik looked through the spyglass again. The cloaked men were dispersing. The prisoners due for execution had been dragged away with their heads. Two of the hooded figures broke off from the pack and disappeared down an alley full of empty merchant stands.
Urlik turned to face his soldiers head-on. “Remember,” he said, “we leave the Earthlings alive until the music box is ours.”
“Wut ‘bout everyone else?” Bomid asked. He was the stoutest Orc of them all, and Urlik thought he could bowl the fence down single-handedly.
Urlik grinned; his sharp, jagged teeth dripping with dark saliva. “Kill them. Kill them all.”
The Orcs cheered, and the small army moved toward the gates of Ashbourne.
Chapter Four
Maria’s prospects were looking grim.
The small duct she’d taken off the main sewer line was slowly proving to be a mistake. Damn you, Castro. I should’ve never trusted a fisherman.
The muck and grime sloshed around as she army-crawled through the tight space. The farther she went, the deeper it got, and the narrower the space became.
Maria felt like phantom hands were wrapped around her neck, choking her into unconsciousness.
Gotta keep going. No turning back now.
Mostly because she couldn’t.
The space was far too small for her to turn around. The only way to get back to the main sewer tunnel would be to crawl backward. She didn’t quite like the idea of being that particular tunnel’s personal mop. Her clothes were beyond ruined enough as it was.
Maybe I can find another way to the tunnels without getting noticed. I’m sure I can; I mean, I’m magic after all. If it comes down to it, I’ll just kick more of those Dragon Tongue’s asses. Huh…Dragon Tongue’s asses…somehow that sounds wildly inappropriate.
She thought she saw something moving in the distance so she halted, focusing her magical energy into the light emanating from her hands. She pushed herself to glow brighter and felt the energy drain from her body. The rules of her magic use were slowly becoming apparent to her. The more intense her magic, the faster it burned away, like a flash fire—as quickly as it started, it put itself out.
The brighter light didn’t help much—all she saw was about fifty feet more of the tunnel and foul-smelling muck. But she did manage to see a dead end of brick, shiny with grime.
“That’s it. Time to go back.”
She let the magic simmer, causing the light to dampen, and began to crawl backward. The muck now went up her pant legs. It was freezing cold and lumpy, like clay. Maria shuddered and tried her best not to think about it.
Then she saw something move.
Oh God, please don’t let that be a rat…or a Raffin. Not here, not now.
She lit up again, and saw the eyes of some creature in the distance. The two circles shone like gold coins caught in the blazing sunlight.
“Hello?” Maria said.
Talking to sewer creatures. What has my life come to?
But these didn’t seem like the eyes of any ordinary sewer creature. They actually seemed human.
“I saw you,” she called softly as the eyes vanished.
Or did I? The eyes were there and now they’re gone. Maybe the smells down here are seeping into my brain, and I’m going crazy… No! The tunnel doesn’t end. It goes deeper underground!
Maria, her hope renewed, crawled forward, her elbows and forearms splashing the muck this way and that. Luckily she was still wearing her leather jacket, and most of the nastiness wasn’t soaking in. Well, except for in her jeans…and her socks, which were sopping wet inside her boots.
“What are you?” she asked. “I’m not an enemy. I come in peace.”
Oh God, spoken like a true alien, huh? Take me to your leaderrrr.
The face popped up again. This time, Maria saw it in all its oddness, and the blue light didn’t do the thing any favors. It looked like a giant rat, its head nearly the size of Sherlock’s—and Maria loved to point out how big Sherlock’s head was in comparison to his body.
Eight long claws hooked onto the edge of the hole at the end of the tunnel.
“Hi, I’m Maria,” Maria said toward the owner of the claws,
