They’re in the yard out there, Sindari told me. All five of them. Looking toward us. Your charm can’t hide anyone else, right? They’ll see Dimitri. I don’t think we’ll be able to get back to the van without a fight.
Thinking of the dead security guard, I replied, I wouldn’t mind a fight.
Dark elves are strong and agile. And what about Dimitri? He has no magical weapons with which to defend himself.
That was the problem. Belatedly, it occurred to me that we should have fought the dark elves and then gotten Dimitri out of the house’s weird alter dimension.
I almost called 911 to report the dead security guard—that ought to have police milling all over the property, and if the dark elves were as dedicated to not being seen as Willard had said, they would disappear. But I was a wanted woman. Calling the police would get me in more trouble than the dark elves.
They’re by the playhouse again, Sindari reported. I can hear them talking. They feel the magic of this carriage house, and that’s the only reason they haven’t made their move, but they’re thinking about charging in to look for us.
I eyed a handful of lawn-maintenance tools inside the door. I doubted a weed whacker and a leaf blower would scare the elves away, but perhaps they could be deterred by another distraction. Or a threat.
A rusty five-gallon can tucked behind the yard tools caught my eye—was that gasoline for the weed whacker?
“Dimitri,” I whispered. “Do you have a lighter?”
“No.”
“I should have brought Mom.”
“Hey, I’m useful. I can make things with my hands and imbue them with magic.”
“Yeah?” I grabbed the canister, opened it, and sniffed, confirming that it was gasoline. Possibly gasoline that had been there for decades—I hadn’t seen a tin like that for ages. “Can you turn this gas can into a Molotov cocktail?”
I was being sarcastic, but he shrugged and said, “Easy. Are we burning down the carriage house?”
“No.” I pointed toward the dark elves—I couldn’t see them, but I trusted Sindari’s senses.
“The main house?” Dimitri threw me a shocked looked. Perhaps for an obvious reason, he hadn’t sounded disagreeable about burning the haunted carriage house, but someone’s estate was another matter.
“Just the playhouse. We’ll be doing the next owners a favor. You wouldn’t want your kids playing next to this evil carriage house, would you?” I shoved the gas can toward him. “Also, the playhouse is full of dark elves getting ready to storm in and slay us.”
His grunt didn’t sound that agreeable, but he went hunting for a rag and went to work.
Something clanked onto the roof. I leaned out the door, ready to shoot if the dark elves were charging us. Something cylindrical—a homemade grenade?—bounced off the roof. Far off. As if it had been launched from a trampoline rather than simply hitting wood boards. Was the house defending itself?
The grenade flew up more than a hundred feet before exploding with a fiery orange boom. If anyone in the neighborhood had been asleep, they were awake now.
A faint twang reached my ears, and I ducked back inside. A crossbow quarrel slammed into the door where my head had been.
“I don’t think we have much time,” I muttered.
“This won’t take long,” Dimitri said.
What’s behind this property, Sindari? Do you know? On the way to the carriage house, I’d seen the back fence, tall grass beyond it, and houselights in the distance, but they’d been a good hundred yards away. Is there another way to get to the road if we sneak out the back?
There is an equestrian trail behind this property. It smells strongly of their droppings. I do not know where it goes.
I’m sure we can loop back through someone’s yard.
“Ready.” Dimitri hefted the can, his fingers gripping the end of the fuse he’d made.
He’d done more than that, I realized, now sensing magic emanating from the rag and the can.
“Can you throw it all the way to the playhouse? And time it so it’ll blow up as it lands? All while not being shot by dark elves with crossbows?”
“Uh.” He peeked out the doorway. “Maybe.”
Another faint twang sounded, and I yanked him back inside. A crossbow quarrel quivered from the edge of the door, inches from where the first one had struck.
Dimitri looked grimly at it. “I’ll find a way. Hang on.” He closed his eyes and ran a hand along the bottom of the rusty can.
He’s a natural maker, Sindari noted.
You’ve seen his yard art.
He appears to have only one-quarter dwarven blood. Whoever his magical ancestor was, he must have been very powerful.
“I’m ready,” Dimitri said. “I can throw it that far now, but I could use some cover.”
I pulled out Fezzik. “Are they behind the playhouse or in it, Sindari?”
Normally, I wouldn’t fire rounds in the middle of a residential neighborhood, but since they’d already thrown an explosive, it hardly seemed to matter. Besides, if someone else called the police, it would probably get rid of the dark elves.
In it, Sindari said. One is standing on the right side of it and pointing his crossbow in our direction.
I jogged over to one of the boarded-up windows that faced toward the playhouse. I found a gap large enough for Fezzik’s barrel and fired. As far as my eyes could tell, I was firing at the playhouse and empty air, but a grunt of pain reached my ears, so I’d at least grazed one of them.
For a few seconds, only I was firing, as the dark elves took cover. Shards of the wood from the playhouse flew all over the patio. Then crossbows fired from inside and behind the structure, quarrels zipping across the yard to thud into the window boards. One skidded through the same gap as I was using, and I jerked back as the fletching grazed my knuckles.
Were those quarrels poison-tipped? I had to be more careful.
Dimitri leaned out and grunted as he heaved the gas canister. I resumed firing, not wanting the dark elves to notice him—or it. Sirens wailed as distant police cars sped into the neighborhood.
Whatever magic Dimitri had applied to the five-gallon can helped it sail farther than anyone should have been able to throw it. Fire danced on the end of the fuse. The can landed with enough velocity to crash through the roof of the playhouse.
Two seconds after the can disappeared inside the playhouse, it exploded. Flames shot in all directions as the walls of the structure blew outward.
I sprinted for the carriage house door, pushing Dimitri ahead of me. “Go, go!”
We rushed out, turning toward the trail Sindari had promised. I fired back over my shoulder in the general direction of the explosion, hoping to get lucky—and hoping I didn’t run out of ammo I might yet need that night.
Sindari started after us, but he paused, silver head rotating around. Then he raced toward the burning playhouse. He only made it halfway across the yard before springing at something.
The dark elf that he hit was still invisible to me, but from Sindari’s movements, I could tell he’d slammed into the chest of his target. He bit down with a snarl, shook something in his powerful teeth, then jerked away as something slashed into his side.
“Does he need our help?” Dimitri stumbled—he was also glancing back.
“No.” I pushed him through the tall grass, dew dampening our pants as we ran. “He’s buying time for us.”
I didn’t point out that I would have gone back to help if Dimitri weren’t there. I owed it to him to get him to safety. He’d already gotten in far more trouble than he’d bargained for when he offered me a ride.
A roar rang out over the sounds of battle and the wailing of the approaching sirens.
You’re a wonderful companion, Sindari.
It is good that you recognize this truth as self-evident.
As we clambered over a wood fence and came out on the promised trail, which turned out to be a well-maintained dirt road, the police pulled into the driveway of the vacant house. Their lights flashed off the walls of the neighboring houses and cars in the streets. Hopefully, all the activity—and light—would make the dark elves flee.
Dimitri and I ran down the dirt road, passed through a gate, and came to a spot where it crossed a paved street. We turned onto it, and I pulled out my phone for the map. I was fairly certain we’d been on the popular Tolt Pipeline Trail, but the streets back here were a maze.
“It’s a circuitous route back to your van,” I reported, “but maybe that’s for the best.”
“So the police and dark elves are gone by the time we get there?”
“Yes.” I envisioned returning to a tape-covered crime scene and hoped we would be able to slip away.
The sound of claws on the pavement came from behind, and I turned as Sindari trotted up. He was limping, and when I reached to pet him, my hand came away wet with blood.
“Poor boy.” Even though he would repair quickly once he returned to his own realm, that didn’t keep him from feeling the pain of injuries while he was here. “Thank you for your help. Go rest now.”
I will, but I wanted to warn you… They are very fast and very strong, and I think those were lowly minions among their kind. Do your best to avoid them, Val.
When I thought of Zoltan’s list of requirements and the sample kit in my pocket, I shook my head sadly. I don’t think I can.
17
“Tell me again why your apartment has a parking garage and we can’t use it?” Dimitri yawned noisily as he circled the nearby blocks.
Parking was always tight this close to Old Ballard, with apartment buildings rising up behind the popular restaurants and bars, some of which were still open, even though it was long after midnight. I pointed toward an alley where visitors could usually get a spot.
“Because Sudo probably has someone watching my apartment, and the main way in is through the parking garage.”
“Should we avoid it altogether?”
“Yes, but I have a date with a loofah.”