“I bet,” I muttered.
There was also something dangling from a corner of it. Another clump of sasquatch fur? If so, that would account for the smell. It was stronger farther into the cairn.
“I had a brother, too, but he also died before you were born,” Mom continued. “He was a fisherman in Alaska back in the sixties. The work was as dangerous as logging, especially back then. Our family seems to be drawn to dangerous work.”
“That could explain some things.”
“Yes. It’s in the blood. You are, as far as I know, the first assassin.”
“Maybe you should have picked a less war-encouraging name for me.”
“Ingrid was on the short list. It means beautiful goddess.”
“Ingrid?” I mouthed it with distaste.
“But your father said his mother was a famous warrior among his people. And he was, uhm, adept in many areas himself.”
“Please don’t tell me about elven bedroom exploits.” As I alternated between patting Rocket comfortingly and pushing aside leaves to find what had him trapped, I said, “I had no idea all I had to do was go hiking with you to get you to open up and talk about your family and background. I assume those were your parents you mentioned, not his.”
An elf would probably think logging was a crime.
“I never met your father’s parents. He did have a sister that I met once. She was beautiful and serene and some kind of artist or maker among his people.”
“Clearly, I don’t take after that side of the family.” Ugh, a bear trap had Rocket. Not one purchased from a store, but something homemade out of scraps of metal, things doubtless stolen from the houses the goblins had raided. “Hang on, buddy.”
His wrist was bloody, and he was not happy about the situation. I wondered if that magical artifact was what had drawn him in, making him ignore Mom’s commands. That or the tuft of sasquatch fur dangling from it.
Rocket whined and laid his head on my shoulder as I gripped the teeth-filled sides of the trap and pushed them apart. As soon as he could, he jerked his paw out. In his hurry to escape the cairn, he almost knocked me over.
I let the trap snap back shut, so no other critters would be caught in it.
“Rocket!” Mom blurted when he came out. Her voice was muffled—she’d probably thrown her arms around the dog.
Maybe if I were more cuddly and affectionate, I could get hugs like that. Having soft furry ears people wanted to rub probably helped.
Sindari, I thought, reminded of someone else with soft furry ears. Any luck out there?
He didn’t answer. Maybe that meant he’d captured the goblin and was busy dragging him over to us.
I debated between backing out of the passage and going in the rest of the way to check out the artifact. Judging by the lumpy spots under the bed of leaf litter, there were other traps waiting inside. This whole place seemed like a trap.
“Let’s be smart and not fall into it this time, eh?” I scooted backward.
Before I’d gone halfway, a faint click sounded. The boulders ground and shifted above my head. Damn it, I hadn’t bumped anything—I was sure of it.
Swearing, I tried to scoot backward faster, afraid the entire cairn would collapse on me.
“Look out, Val!” Mom shouted.
No kidding.
Rocks tumbled down, not on top of me but in front of the opening. Dust flooded the passage, and all outside light disappeared.
“I knew it was a trap.” I thunked my head down into the pine needles.
15
Val? Sindari spoke into my mind. I must reluctantly inform you of a problem.
If it’s the fact that half of this cairn collapsed and blocked me in, I already know. I shifted onto my side, coughing at the dust the cave-in—no, the deliberate springing of the trap—had caused.
My chest tightened as the fine particles infiltrated my airways like the Uruk-hai invading Helm’s Deep in Lord of the Rings. Groping in the dark, I pulled out my inhaler and took a puff.
I am positive you can deal with a few rocks, Sindari said. My problem is that these goblins all have something similar to your cloaking charm and keep eluding me. I was almost upon this one, using my own stealth, but somehow he sensed me coming. I am ashamed of this ineptitude. It is not normal for me.
I would tease you for it, but since my own ineptitude has me trapped under a cairn—and for the record, this is a lot of rocks, not a few—I will forgo teasing.
Lord Zavryd is nearby. Perhaps he can help you escape.
Oh, hell no. I refuse to need rescuing from my own stupidity. I stuffed my inhaler back into my pocket and shifted Chopper out from under fine rocks and dust that had fallen onto it—and me. It’s bad enough needing to be rescued from dragons, but since no normal person is equipped to deal with them, I can accept that. Grudgingly.
I will return to assist you. Is your mother in trouble?
I hope not.
Someone had sprung that trap. I was positive I hadn’t bumped against anything. That meant the goblin who’d eluded Sindari was out there monitoring us. Or someone else was.
Chopper was strong enough to break boulders, but I wasn’t in a position to swing the blade, so I reluctantly scooted forward. Toward the bear traps.
The larger room with the artifact was still intact. Using Chopper like a broom, I scooted aside needles and revealed six more bear traps on the floor, all chained to the rocks, all unsprung. There wasn’t any bait in any of them, so Rocket hadn’t been lured in by food. I was positive that artifact had been the lure. The scent of the sasquatch might have brought him to this spot, but the magic had made him disobey Mom.
Curious, I let go of Chopper for a second. The pull on my mind grew even stronger. I had to know what those battered beer cans could tell me.
“Huh.” I picked up Chopper again, and the pull faded.
After I’d swept aside all the bear traps, triggering them so I wouldn’t accidentally spring one later, I stood up. Most of the way. The ceiling was too low for me to straighten fully. It didn’t take long to look around and confirm that there weren’t any other ways out or into some underground complex. The artifact was all that was here.
My curiosity almost made me poke it with Chopper’s tip, to see if anything happened, but I caught myself. Touching it might trigger another rockfall, one that would crush me this time.
Val? Your mother is standing face to face with four towering furry black and brown creatures. They have two legs, long arms, and their scent matches what we found in that house. Each one is over ten feet tall.
I swore. Do they have weapons? Claws? Are they threatening her?
Not currently. She is pantomiming gestures, and they are looking at each other and at her. Her dog is growling at them, and they aren’t coming close.
Keep an eye on the situation, please.
They’re pointing for her to step aside. Several are approaching the cairn. She just pulled out her gun.
Damn it. Is she trying to protect me? I crawled back into the tunnel and stabbed between the boulders blocking the entrance, trying to find the leverage to push them aside without bringing the cairn down atop me.
I believe so. She’s standing her ground and pointing her gun at them. They have paused. They seem to be communicating with each other. I will go join her to add my strength and ferocity to hers and ensure they cannot do anything to the cairn.
I’d rather have Sindari lend his strength and ferocity to digging me out, but it wasn’t as if claws were great at picking up giant rocks.
A boulder ground aside three inches, but other small rocks tumbled down into the gap. This would take forever.
They’re trying to communicate with hand gestures, Sindari reported. They are pantomiming lifting boulders off the cairn. Your mother is asking her dog if she can trust them. Does she not realize that I am intelligent and wise and of far more use than some drooling canine?
Since you can’t talk to her, probably not.
“Don’t start a war against greater numbers, Mom,” I yelled as I went back to digging. “Or anyone larger than you.”
You do not apply that advice to your encounters with dragons, Sindari noted.
At least someone had heard me.
I have magical weapons. That levels the playing field.
The shaggy creatures are walking forward with their hands out and open. One is pointing at the cairn and making lifting motions. I believe they want to dig you out.
If they’re allies with the goblins, why would they do that? Someone wanted me trapped. Someone short and green. Unless there was another party controlling the goblins. The idea of another faction being involved made my head ache. The dust coating my eyes and throat didn’t help.
I don’t know, but they’re adamant. Your mother is hesitantly moving off to the side while keeping her gun trained on them. They’re eyeing the weapon nervously. They’re also eyeing me nervously. As they should.
Don’t attack them if they want to lift rocks off me, please.
I wished I could see what Sindari saw. This scenario made no sense to me.
I’m moving off to the side as well—they wouldn’t come close until I did so—but I’m watching them carefully. If they start pushing the rocks down on you, I’ll attack them.
I appreciate that.
Scuffs, scrapes, and grinding noises came through from above. So did a familiar stench. Apparently, it was so powerful that it could ooze through the dirt and microscopic gaps between the rocks.
A pinprick of light broke through next, not in the little passage where I was but back in the larger chamber. By the time I scooted in there, the pinprick had turned into a head-sized beam, sunlight filtering down through the gap and the forest canopy above.
As I inched closer, thinking to widen the hole further with Chopper, a big face leaned in, dimming the light. It was neither ursine nor simian but somewhere in between, with a smashed snout that reminded me of a pug. The dark brown eyes that peered in seemed more intelligent than those of a dog.
The sasquatch leaned out of sight and lifted more rocks away. When the hole was large enough, I jumped up and scrambled out, keeping Chopper in my hand in case my saviors turned into enemies.