Magic Wild (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker Book 4) Page 7

  “Oh, perfect.” I took it. “You’re a hero.”

  I put the charm in my pocket. They were rare now, since there’d been a shortage a couple months ago when the Monster from our past had snapped them all up. Warlocks were busy making more, but the process wasn’t easy and it took time.

  “That’ll at least give you a quick getaway,” Cass said. “In case you need it.”

  “We might. Thanks.” We’d need to go the slow way to get there, since a transportation charm would only work if you knew exactly where you were going. But it was always good to have a fast escape. I snagged a cup of coffee and practiced hefting a bag with one hand. I groaned. “Of course these folks valued rocks.”

  “I don’t envy you climbing up to their settlement with rocks on your back.”

  I chuckled as I took the barstool next to her. “It’ll be a workout.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to come?”

  I shook my head. “With the transport charm, we’ll have a quick getaway in case we need it. That’s my biggest concern. Otherwise, we’re just trying to convince these people to give us a cure, since forcing them won’t work. In that case, two people will do as well as three.” I patted the backpack on the counter. “Especially if we have this.”

  “All right, then. But you’ve got your comms charm in case you need me. Give me your location, and I can be there in a flash.”

  I wrapped an arm around her and gave her a side hug. “You’re the best.”

  “Nix would be here, too, if she didn’t have to work.”

  “I know. Gotta keep the shop running.”

  “Exactly.” Cass polished off her coffee, then stood. “And I have an appointment with a tomb in China. There’s a sleeping charm there that is about to decay and explode.”

  “Better go save that tomb.”

  Cass saluted, then disappeared, using her transport powers.

  Roarke entered the kitchen a second later. He grinned when he saw me, and heat curled in my belly. I could feel a blush rising, so I coughed and asked, “Your brother okay?”

  “Still sedated. The guards are giving him constant doses.” He frowned. “You’re sure Connor knows his potions?”

  “Yeah. If he said that’s what to do, then you’re safe.”

  “Good.” Roarke pulled his thin black jacket off a post on the wall. “Ready to go?”

  I finished my coffee and stood, then grabbed a granola bar from a bowl on the counter. “Ready now.”

  We arrived in Peru thirty minutes later, having taken the Underpath at Mad Mordecai’s straight to a village called Cuzca in south-central Peru. I stepped out of the Underpass into the cool air, adjusting the heavy backpack full of rock. Roarke wore one, too, his a bit bigger than mine.

  We were at the edge of a small, bustling village. Mountains rose high around us, and ominous clouds hovered overhead. Last night’s research had revealed that it was the rainy season.

  It was market day, with hundreds of people packed under the thatched roof stalls that sold colorful woven goods, toys, food, and tools. The chatter of voices was in a language I didn’t recognize. Though the town was full of supernaturals—no humans allowed, just like Magic’s Bend—I assumed they spoke Peruvian.

  “How is this the Underpath exit?” I asked, examining the flat ground that we stood upon. There were no headstones. “Is it haunted?”

  “No. There are mummies below.”

  “Mummies? My fave.”

  Roarke grinned, scanning the crowd of miscellaneous supernaturals. Peru was like the rest of the world in that it supported an assortment of our kind. And like the rest of the world, Peruvian supernaturals kept their distance from humans. Which meant that supernatural settlements like this were full of the weirdest looking supernaturals because they couldn’t live in human cities.

  “On your cue,” Roarke said.

  I shook my head. “Right. Sorry. Distracted. I’ve never seen a place like this. It’s cool.”

  But I had a job to do. We knew that we could follow my dragon sense to the abandoned city of the Incate, but all the warnings in the treatises last night of booby traps made me want to ask a local for help. They always knew the most about their home turf and surrounding historical sites, so I wanted to make the best of that knowledge.

  I called upon my dragon sense, asking it to take me to someone who would know the lay of the land and possibly how to find the Incate. It took a little while—lots of false starts—but finally it tugged me toward the market.

  I pointed toward it. “That way.”

  We set off, joining the crush of bodies in the aisles between the stalls. Someone was cooking something that smelled divine, but there was also the smell of rain on the air and the scent of dried corn that filled huge woven stacks at the stall to my right.

  Most of the people wore brightly colored ponchos woven in beautiful patterns. We threaded our way between the shoppers, heading toward the back of the market. The light was dimmer back here, and the market gave way to an alley.

  I glanced at Roarke, who shrugged, then made my way into an alley. A darkened doorway to my left beckoned. It was open, so I entered.

  The space was dimly lit but far more fabulously decorated than I would have anticipated. Woven wall hangings and rugs with beautiful wooden furniture abounded. An older man sat behind a heavy desk. He glanced up, his gray hair shining in the light of the Tiffany lamps.

  He said something in a language I didn’t recognize.

  “Um, I’m sorry, I don’t speak Peruvian,” I said.

  “English.” His voice was deep and sonorous. Danger edged his words, a feeling more than anything. “That is fine. I speak English. I am Atilio. What do you need?”

  “I am Del, and this is Roarke. We need to find the ancient city of the Incate and think you may be able to help.”

  He inclined his head. “I could, for a price.”

  I really hoped he didn’t want my rocks. “What kind of price?”

  “Ten thousand American, though I can only take you part of the way.”

  “We’ll take it,” Roarke said.

  I gave Roarke a brief nod of agreement. Though I’d have loved for Atilio to take us all the way there, it would have been too good to be true. And I didn’t want him witnessing what I did when we got there.

  “Excellent.” Atilio smiled and stood. “Cash first, then I will arrange the boat and the llamas.”

  “Boat and llamas?” I asked.

  “Travel isn’t easy in the Andes.”

  No, clearly not. And Atilio was like a Peruvian combination of The Godfather and a travel agent, apparently. I removed my backpack and pulled out a small leather pouch full of cash. It was a good thing Ancient Magic had been doing well lately, because these adventures were starting to get expensive.

  I counted out the money and handed it off to Atilio. He counted it again, then whistled. A young man came from the back, smiled at us, then took the money.

  Atilio waved his hand, indicating that we should follow. He led us out a larger exit onto a wide street, then down to the river. When we’d first arrived, I hadn’t realized that there was a river here, but it made sense considering what we’d read last night. Wide rivers with some rapids cut through the valleys between the steep mountains all over this part of Peru.

  The docks were bustling with people and boats. Atilio led us to a large one with a green and red hull. A rain shelter was built over the stern, and a short man stepped off to greet us. He wore the colorful knit hat that I’d noticed many of the men in town wearing.

  “Del and Roarke, this is your captain, Diego. Once the llamas have arrived and have boarded, you will depart for Tarma.”

  “The llamas will get on the boat?” I asked. It didn’t look like a very big boat—just one deck about twenty feet long.

  “Yes.” Atilio nodded.

  Clomping footsteps sounded from behind me and I turned. The two biggest llamas I’d ever seen approached. They were easily ten feet tall, and ea
ch had fluffy white fur and a pair of curved horns. And fangs.

  “Those are llamas?” I asked.

  Atilio nodded. “Demon llamas. Blood drinkers.”

  “Oh.” Never heard of those. I wasn’t a fan of vampires—had never actually met one, since they were rare—but vampire llamas couldn’t be so bad. I approached them both, holding out my hands for them to sniff. “Hey guys, how’s—”

  “Careful!” Atilio cried. “They bite!”

  Though I heard him, I was more interested in the llamas. Like with Pond Flower and Ralph and Rufus, I could feel these animals. In a good way—like their souls communed with mine, or something hippy-dippy along those lines. They snuffled my hands.

  “It’s okay,” Roarke murmured. “She has a way with animals.”

  The llamas bent their heads slightly and let me pet them. Their fur was slightly coarse and springy. I scratched them, keeping an eye on their fangs as I did so. They might like me, but I was still wary of four-inch fangs.

  Killed by a llama was the last thing I wanted on my tombstone.

  “Well, that will come in handy,” Atilio said. “As you’ll be riding them when you get off the boat.”

  I said goodbye to the llamas, and we boarded the boat. The llamas got on second, moving to the bow and sitting with their legs folded under them. They looked perfectly comfortable. Diego hurried around the boat, untying the lines to free us from the dock. He cranked the engine, and it roared softly.

  “Diego will explain the rest of your journey.” Atilio waved as we took off.

  I waved back. “Thank you!”

  Diego steered us away from the rest of the boats and down the river. The air was cooler on the water and the view of the mountains fantastic. They were steep and green, enormous sentries that I didn’t look forward to climbing.

  We motored on for about an hour, the llamas snoozing at the bow. Up ahead, the smooth expanse of water started to look choppy. Rocks?

  “Hang on!” Diego shouted. “We’re coming to some rapids!”

  As we neared and I got a better view, my stomach dropped. Those weren’t just some rapids. They were serious white water. And we were in this little wooden boat, not the sturdy rubber ones that I always saw on vacation leaflets for people who wanted to put on borrowed wetsuits and take a death ride down a river.

  “I don’t like this,” I muttered.

  “Don’t worry!” Diego’s cry was cheerful. “We’re protected!”

  As we bumped our way down the rapids, water spraying me in the face like an icy shower, I didn’t feel that protected. With the ominous gray clouds overhead, the whole thing felt dire. But the llamas didn’t appear to be concerned—they kept snoozing in the bow—and we never crashed on the rocks. After a while, I realized that I had a death grip on Roarke’s arm, so I loosened it. Finally, the water smoothed out again.

  “That’s the worst of it,” Diego said. “We’re nearly there.”

  We’d reached an area where the mountains had opened up to reveal a floodplain. Diego pulled the boat over to the shore and walked around to the llamas.

  “This is where I leave you,” he said.

  Thunder rumbled overhead.

  Great.

  Diego woke the llamas and led them off the boat onto the muddy bank, then turned to us. “You must ride the llamas across the floodplain to the mountains on the far side.” He pointed to some steep mountains a couple miles away. They were verdant green, and the tops were ringed with dark gray clouds. “There is a village there. The llamas will know the way. Once you are there, they will take you to Pachato’s son. He will recognize the llamas and know to help you.”

  “Thank you.” Roarke gave me a boost onto the closest llama, who was warm and strong beneath me. There was no bridle, so I grabbed onto the fur of his neck. He didn’t seem annoyed, fortunately.

  Roarke climbed onto his llama. The beast was so big that even Roarke didn’t look like he was too much weight.

  “Anything else we should know?” Roarke asked.

  “Yes.” Diego scanned the floodplain behind us. “Do not get off the llama.”

  His tone sent a shiver across my skin. “Or what?”

  “The reed monsters will rise. They recognize the llamas’ footsteps and will let you pass unmolested. But if you were to walk upon the floodplain, they would awaken.”

  “Reed monsters?” I asked.

  Diego nodded. “Impossible to kill. They are more magic than being. You’d be well served to stay on the llamas.”

  I patted my llama’s neck and leaned down to whisper, “Don’t ditch me, okay?”

  We said goodbye to Diego and set off across the floodplain. The llamas knew the way, so I just hung on tight and watched the clouds overhead. They clustered and swirled, turning darker with every second.

  “We’re going to get a shower,” Roarke said once we were halfway across and I could just barely make out the sight of rooftops in the distance.

  A half second later, rain began to pour, a deluge that soaked me in an instant. Lightning lit up the day, so bright it was blinding. Thunder cracked, the loudest sound I’d ever heard. I almost screamed—and I wasn’t normally much of a shrieker. My llama made a sound of pure terror, and bucked like a bull.

  I tightened my grip on his fur, barely managing to hang on. But the lightning struck again, this time with louder thunder, and my llama bucked twice. I lost my grip and landed in the swampy grass. The llama bolted.

  Crap! I jumped up.

  “Del!” Somehow, Roarke managed to turn his llama. He reached down and pulled me up behind him.

  But it was too late. The ground around us was shaking, vibrating with magic that made my skin prickle with awareness.

  “Something big is coming,” I said.

  The ground burst to life, a humanoid figure made of reeds popping up from the earth. It was at least twenty feet tall and made all of grass, like some weird giant doll.

  “Stay on the llama.” Roarke’s magic swirled around him, a dark cloud that smelled strongly of sandalwood and felt like a caress. I’d never been so close to him when he shifted.

  He leaped off the llama before the transformation was complete. Probably to avoid knocking me off with his wings. By the time he hit the ground, he’d changed fully. His dark wings swept high. Fortunately, the backpack was still on his back, nestled between the roots of his wings, though his shirt had disappeared.

  He took off into the sky, hurtling for the reed monster that lumbered toward us. I adopted my Phantom form, letting the icy magic flow through me. I was still gray-blue, but I blended better in the pouring gray rain.

  I drew my sword from the ether as Roarke flew up to the reed monster’s head. The creature had no eyes or nose or any other discernible feature.

  “I need your help, buddy,” I said to the llama. His head was swinging, but I didn’t feel fear coming off him. Unlike his brother, this guy was brave. He wanted a fight. “Run at the monster’s legs.”

  The llama snorted and took off. I held my sword out, aiming for the monster’s left leg like some kind of weird medieval knight riding my demon llama into the joust.

  As I reached the monster, I turned corporeal and slashed my sword through its leg, severing it. At the same time, Roarke gripped its head and tore it clean off. As my llama raced away, the monster crashed to its knees, splashing a thin wave of water up at me.

  I glanced back over my shoulder.

  The monster was rising!

  Its leg had already started to grow back. So had its head. And in the distance, more monsters were popping out of the ground. In the sky, Roarke hovered like a dark angel of death. No matter how good I knew him to be, his demon form was always a little scary.

  “We have to run for it!” I yelled.

  “Go!” he yelled. “I’ll follow.”

  My llama didn’t need any convincing. It ran faster than a racehorse, hell-bent for leather—though I had no idea what that actually meant. Water splashed up from its pounding ho
ofs as rain poured from the sky. Roarke flew at my side, just above me. A quick glance behind revealed the reed monsters charging us. We had a lead of about fifty yards. I hoped we could keep it.

  “Faster!” I cried at my llama.

  Ahead, the other llama ran like its life depended on it. Which maybe it did. But we couldn’t show up to Pachato’s son without that llama. And I didn’t want the poor thing to get lost.

  “Get the llama!” I yelled at Roarke.

  He turned his head toward me, indecision in his eyes.

  “Leave me!” I screamed. “I’m fine!”

  Roarke nodded sharply, then zoomed off, his wings carrying him twice as fast as my llama could run. I glanced behind me again, rain nearly blinding me, and prayed that I actually was going to be fine.

  An ounce of relief flowed through me. The reed monsters were only about forty yards away. They were gaining, but our head start might save us. I turned back to the village, able to see the buildings through the rain.

  Shit! What if I led these monsters straight into an innocent group of people?

  Crap, crap, crap. Indecision warred. I could diverge, leading them away. As the llama jumped up onto a more solid part of ground, now out of the sloshy, reed-strewn floodplain, I turned around to check on the reed monsters.

  They’d stopped dead in their tracks.

  What?

  The llama continued to gallop, faster than ever on this new, harder surface.

  Understanding hit me. We’d left the reed monsters’ territory when we’d gotten on the slightly higher, firmer ground. I glanced back again. The reed monsters were beginning to shrink, melting back into the ground.

  Thank fates.

  I turned to see Roarke riding his llama back toward me, wings closed behind him in what I assumed was supposed to be an aerodynamic stance.

  “Are you okay?” he shouted through the rain.

  “Yeah!” My llama galloped up to him, and he swung his around. Or, rather, his llama turned around to head toward town with us. There was no directing these beasts. They did exactly as they pleased. Which I respected.