All four of them had come to help. Nearby, Mom let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. The small sign that she cared warmed my heart more than I expected. It wasn’t that I didn’t think she cared, but she was as bad at sharing feelings as I was, and one could never be certain with her.
Sindari was swishing his tail and, as promised, keeping a hawk’s eye on the towering sasquatch. As I trotted away from them to give them space, they started returning boulders to the cairn. Rebuilding the stack as it had been. They were precise, and it soon looked much as it had when we first walked up. One shuffled around to the front and unblocked the entrance hole.
They left the artifact inside. The ruse was back in place, other than that I’d sprung all the bear traps.
I rubbed my head. “Do they speak? Can we question them?”
I do not think they have speech as we understand it, Sindari said. They are not magical.
I agreed. I didn’t sense auras from them.
“They were sort of pantomiming. That’s it.” Mom came over and gripped my shoulder. “I’m sorry. That was dumb of me. I was worried about Rocket and so shocked that he didn’t come back when I called him. He’s been trained.” She sounded defensive. Rocket stood at her side, watching the sasquatch with the intense interest of a dog sitting at the base of a squirrel-laden tree. He didn’t appear contrite, but he was obediently sticking close now. “Well trained,” Mom continued. “Usually—”
I lifted a hand. “There was a magical artifact inside. I think it was compelling him to get closer, until he was caught in a bear trap.”
“Bear trap.” She knelt and lifted his leg. Blood seeped through the golden fur around his wrist. “No bear would be able to get in there.”
“No, I think it was meant for people or maybe their dogs. And more as a scare tactic than a genuine attempt to incapacitate someone.”
Mom frowned at me. “Scare tactic for what reason?”
“I wish we could talk to these guys, because I’d like to know. Someone has effectively isolated the town, at least for now, and it seems like a lot of the methods being used are intended more to scare than to kill.” I decided not to mention that, so far, this assignment was less appealing than ones where I was shot at regularly.
Their task complete, three of the sasquatch backed away, then turned and strode into the trees. The one that had finished fixing the entrance pointed at me, then hung his head and rotated it back and forth. It wasn’t quite the same as a human head shake, but that was the impression that I got. Almost an apology. Then he pointed at Mom, at the cairn, at her again, and at the cairn again, as if directing her to go back inside.
“Does he think I’m going to go get myself stuck again now that he’s reset the trap?” She rested a hand on Rocket’s back to ensure he couldn’t go back in.
“I have no idea.”
The sasquatch looked at me and Sindari again, then rolled his head around his broad neck a few times and strode into the woods after the others.
“Maybe it’s designed to trap humans, not half-elves,” Mom suggested.
“Do you really think he could tell the difference between us? These sasquatch aren’t magical beings.”
“I bet Rocket could, so why not? Animals have more ways than we do to sense things.”
“I won’t argue with that.” Sindari, do you want to follow that one? Stealthily?
Certainly. He trotted into the woods after them, soon fading from my sight.
I’ll catch up in a few. We should see if we can find out where they live and if they have any goblin allies hanging out and playing cards with them.
Goblins play Wrenches and Pliers, not cards.
Is that a game? Or do they just enjoy fun times with tools?
It’s a game played with tools. Also, it rhymes in their language, so the term lends itself to poetry and songs.
Poems about tools. I guess that’s not any worse than poems about fresh kills.
If you refer to the poetry of the Zhinevarii, ours is far superior. We cover far grander and momentous matter.
Like how good zebras taste?
About how much sweeter the taste of zebras is after a taxing hunt of many days to acquire them. Val, these creatures are moving quickly. You’ll need to hurry after if you want me to stay within your range.
Be right there.
“Mom, why don’t you go back to the house and patch up Rocket’s leg?” I checked my map and, as I’d suspected, we hadn’t ended up far from the lake. She could make it back in a half hour. “Check on Thad and Amber, please. They’re probably fine, but you never know.”
“Are you planning to go fight the sasquatch, and you want me out of the way?” She waved in the direction they had gone.
“Not them, but if I find out who’s manipulating them, there could be a fight. I want you safe.”
She grimaced and glanced at Rocket’s leg. I could tell she did want to tend to his wounds, but she said, “Are you sure you won’t need help?”
“I’ve got Sindari. He’s going to orate epic poetry about noshing on zebras to me.”
She squinted at me. “Did a rock fall on your head?”
“Today or when I was a kid?”
“Either.”
“I’m afraid there’s no logical explanation for my weirdness. Except that my work is weird.” I patted her on the shoulder and trotted off after Sindari.
16
My phone buzzed as I jogged through the trees after Sindari, who was hot on the trail of the four sasquatch. Game trails ran through the area, and here and there, the forest thinned, revealing farmlands in the distance, but the sasquatch stayed under cover.
“What’s going on, Willard?” I answered, not slowing down.
The sasquatch seemed to know Sindari was on their trail and were moving quickly.
“I’m checking in on your progress,” Willard said.
“I’ve had some leads. I’m not sure yet who’s in charge of this mess.”
“I’ve heard that the roads to Harrison have been destroyed and that the equipment that’s being brought out to fix them keeps getting sabotaged.”
“I’ve heard that too.”
“Are you running?”
I didn’t make a lot of noise as I ran, flowing lightly over downed logs and around trees, but maybe she could hear it in my voice. “Yes, I want to join you in your next triathlon.”
“I’d call you a horrible liar, but you weren’t even trying.”
“Sindari and I are following some sasquatch, hopefully to their home.”
“They exist then?”
“Yes, four of them dug me out of a cairn and tried to convince my mom to go in so the trap could be sprung on the right person.”
“What?”
“I’m not sure, but I think they’re going after humans, not magical beings, and I must count as the latter. Maybe someone conveyed to them that people who can sense magic would be able to see through their ruse and shouldn’t be targeted.”
“Someone? Goblins?”
“That’s my guess. We’ve spotted a few and seen lots of prints. We haven’t been able to catch any yet.”
There is magic ahead, Sindari warned me. The sasquatch are heading for it.
Goblin magic?
I don’t think so.
“There may be more here than goblins,” I told Willard.
“Well, get to the bottom of it. There have been several deaths reported. Some died in Rupert’s bar, and some who had visited the bar earlier in the week died later.”
“People who played with that orb?”
“Mentions of it keep coming up among my informants and the people I’ve questioned. There are rumors of more of them popping up around Puget Sound. The Northern Pride has information, but they’re not talking. They put their lawyer on the phone when I called. He’s slicker than a greased pig.”
“Since you’re from the country, I assume you’ve actually handled a greased pig.”
“I may have competed in a pig scramble or two in my youth. There’s prize money, you know.”
A faint whisper of magic crawled over my skin like a cold mist, and I slowed down.
“I’ll finish here as quickly as I can,” I said, “but nobody’s turned up dead yet, and so far, the criminals have only broken into houses and stolen things. And bashed in inoffensive light fixtures, though that might have been inadvertent due to height and hard heads.”
“What’s your point?”
“Do you want me to use deadly force if I find out who’s in charge?”
“No.”
“Am I supposed to arrest them?”
“You sound puzzled, Val.”
“I don’t get sent out to arrest people. I get sent to make them dead.”
Up ahead, Sindari sat waiting for me between two trees.
“Are you saying I should have sent a less assassinly agent?”
“I’m not sure what to do with a bunch of goblins if I catch them. I don’t think this town even has a police department or a cell I could put them in. And I don’t have anything but rope in my Jeep. No handcuffs.”
“No? What if your dragon is into creative foreplay?”
“Funny, Willard.”
“Catch whoever is in charge and call me. I’ll arrange for some MPs to come arrest them if necessary. And finish up soon and get back here.”
“You’re tyrannical today, especially considering how little you’re paying me for this gig.”
“I thought the bonus of being in the same state as your family would be reward enough.”
“Have you met my family?”
“Are they like you?”
“Mom is.” The flintier, less funny version of me.
“So spending time with her isn’t a delight?”
“What are you saying, Willard?”
“Just finish up. The next gig will pay well.”
The dark elves. Great.