Page 24 of Bounty Hunter

I circle around through the forest, stopping only once when a small group of goblins with trapping equipment draped over their shoulders leave the nest perimeter and head into the darkness of the forest, out for another capture. As soon as they pass, I continue my path around the perimeter until I reach my destination and drop our packs. Even with my heightened vision, I can’t see Darvy and Rhosse in the shadows directly across fromme, several hundred yards away, but I assume they are still there, waiting.

I wait until it seems likely I won’t be seen, bend low, and run toward the tree, heading for the deepest shadows to begin my ascent. I dig my fingers into the thick, gnarly, half-rotted bark, ignoring the inky black bugs that skitter across my hands. What is not easy to ignore is the potent sour smell that seems to emanate from the bark itself, and I find myself holding back the contents of my stomach as I scale my way quickly up. I pause when a lift passes too close and press myself against the tree, remaining unnoticed. I finally reach the hut they’ve taken her to. I grab and hoist myself onto the top of the branch that the nest is dangling from and step carefully along its length. I’ve never seen a goblin nest this close before, and I notice how it’s attached around the strong branch I walk along, its odd material connected to the bark of the tree like a continually growing, slimy glue. But unlike a liquid object, its texture is almost weaved… and disgustingly fuzzy. I’ve done a lot of dangerous, scary, awful things in the name of duty, but climbing into a goblins nest will be a first for me. The nests themselves are the size of small huts, oblong with narrow openings.

All is quiet at this particular nest, and I assume the goblins have left momentarily. Probably to gather their knives in order to skin the woman. Around me, lifts move up and down at dizzying speeds. It’s only a matter of time until I’m noticed. I artfully swing down and through the opening into the nest and land on the soft floor in a crouch. The woman is before me, tied up, but rather than relief when she sees me, her eyes grow wide with alarm.

I hold up my hands in a peace offering gesture, trying to show her that she has no reason to fear me. “Look, I know we got off on the wrongfoo?—”

A goblin lurches wildly from the shadows with a strange high-pitched wheeze at my right, and I react instinctively, ripping my knife from its sheath with a speed only gained from experience and thrust it quickly into its neck. I push it back against the sloped wall where it slides into a smelly heap, coming to a slow stop only a few feet from us. I hear the commotion below and around us, and I know Darvy and Rhosse have made their move. It’s time.

I wipe my knife off using the odd textured nest wall, then turn back toward the woman and hold a finger to my lips to indicate she should stay quiet. I untie the gag around her face and quickly cut the ropes around her wrists and ankles before sheathing my knife. She appears unharmed, so I move to the next part of the mission. Escape.

“How did you find me?” she whispers. I wrote off her previous look of fear as her warning me about the waiting goblin, but that look is still in her eyes, and the only way I can describe it is that she’s fearful ofmypresence. The woman is off her rocker.

“Tracked you.” I see her pack in a heap along the side of the nest and quickly toss it to her. “Put this on.” I poke my head out of the opening, my mind on the mission. Conversation can wait.

My vision locks on Darvy and Rhosse, engaged in a fight with over twenty goblins with more heading their way. Swarms of them stream from the forest and the tree above us. The grunts and shrieks of the goblins are audible, even from our position hundreds of feet above. Pulleys and lifts are constantly moving around us, most now headed down and filled with groups of goblins ready to join the fight. I watch for the right moment. It’s darker now, and I hope if we stay quiet, we can make it to one of the platforms unnoticed. I see an empty liftpassing to the right, going down, but it passes too quickly. We need a better angle. I climb out of the nest, back on to the branch from which it hangs, and stretch my hand out to help the woman up. She stares at it for a moment, unwilling to take it, then knocks it aside with a shoulder as she haphazardly scrambles up next to me on her own, keeping to her knees and firmly grasping the thin branch. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so irritated.

I track another lift on its way down, I can’t see how many goblins are on it, since it’s coming from above, but we have no choice. I reach for her hand again, and this time I snag it in my firm grasp even as she attempts to shake my hand from hers.

“We’re jumping on that lift. Hang on tight, or you’ll fall.” I scowl at her—now is not the time for whatever this is. I still don’t understand why she’s averse to me. Would she rather I leave her to the goblins?

I count down quietly, but even with the warning, she lets out a surprised yelp as I yank her hard, and we jump toward the moving platform—knowing if we miss this, we fall to our deaths below. I miscalculate my angle a bit, what with my arm turned back to pull her with me awkwardly, causing my opposite shoulder to catch on one of the tightly strung ropes. I fall hard, the woman beside me, and find four delighted goblins hovering above us. We’re like a couple of fish who jumped right into their net. They immediately come at us, brandishing some poor human’s weapons they stole before they killed them.

A couple find their target and hit against my leather armor, one slices at my unprotected shoulder, and a blossom of red burgeons through my shirt. I quickly jump to my feet and pull my own weapon. For being so small, goblins are very strong and make formidable enemies. I shove the woman behind me and into a corner as I begin to pick them off. I grab one by its tunic before I realize it’s made of human skin, instinctively tossing itaway and off the side, its chittering fades below us until it hits the ground with a thud. Two more come forward with their swords, and I quickly dispose of them with a couple of well-placed stabs. I toss them off, as well. The only one left is running the pulley. We battle, our swords moving quickly, blocking, stabbing. This one is good, but I feint to the left when he thought I’d go right, and after a well-placed stab, I send him sailing over the side to join the others.

I sheathe my sword and immediately grab hold of the rope to send the lift down, but the rope begins jerking in my grip and I look up to see two goblins making quick work of sawing the thick ropes that hold us aloft. I curse beneath my breath and allow the lift to fall dangerously fast. Our hair and clothing whip around us, and I look down at the forest floor to see a swarm gathering in wait. The woman looks at me like I’m crazy but doesn’t let go of the side of the lift. I glance down at the swarm again and hope they’ll be enough to cushion our fall. I know we need to reach the ground before those ropes are cut, but not too fast or we could be injured—or die. I have no idea what that speed looks like, but hopefully, this is it. Rhosse and Darvy slowly make their way toward our intended landing spot, the swarm around them constantly growing, the smell stifling, even from our height above.

“Hang on!” I call to her. She clings with both hands as we fairly drop from the tree. Then we hit, and we both stumble to our knees and slide forward, our landing cushioned by at least ten goblins so that our platform is an awkwardly skewed ramp. I grab her hand tightly, and we slide off, jumping into the violent fray. I drag her through the melee, pulling lucent and sending it through my sword, making quick use of it to clear our way.

Immediately, Darvy and Rhosse are behind us, stillfighting off the goblins that are attempting to swarm and overtake us. I fight through a few layers of goblins until we get to the outside of the group. Then we run for it, hard. Without stopping, I swing by the stashed packs and throw mine over my shoulder. I hear Darvy and Rhosse behind us. They’re fast, and I know they’ll catch up. I’m more worried about the woman keeping pace the further we run.

But I realize that won’t be a problem. The river lies ahead, and if we change course to attempt to bypass the river and circle around, we will lose precious ground. The goblins will be able to catch up. We’re good at what we do, but I know this area is littered with their deceptive traps. If we get caught, there’s a good chance they’ll kill us on the spot. But the river is full of its own dangers. I have only seconds to decide.

“Everyone, grab hands!” I shout. It’s the only way we’ll stay together when we touch the water. I’ll do everything I can to direct the river, but I know it’s pointless. The Lucent River will send us where the Lucent River wants.

Rhosse grabs the woman’s outstretched hand, and Darvy grabs his. Like a human chain, we run full speed toward the looming edge of a steep, pitch-black drop-off.

Chapter 19

Vera

Ihadn’t believed my eyes when I saw the Class A criminal Rhette was supposed to cuff, the Tulip-killing mercenary, drop into the goblin’s nest. At first, I’d thought that somehow he’d discovered I’m a Tulip and he was here to capture me for the reward. But instead, apparently, he’s only here torescueme. And now I’m following him, more like being pulled, toward what looks very much like a steep drop-off. The edge looms quickly closer, but he isn’t slowing, and neither are his friends, which means neither am I. My feet miss a step for every three with the way the large men are practically lifting me to run faster. The four of us are linked by hands, so I don’t really have a choice. Even if I tried to stop them, I couldn’t. And if I could, I wouldn’t. Jump in the deadly river with the mercenary and his friends, or be skinned and killed by goblins?Horrid options.I keep pace with them the best I can.

Just before the drop off, the criminal shouts over his shoulder, “No matter what, don’t let go!”

Then he and the others pull me off the edge. I’m not sure which is louder—the blood rushing in my ears or the riverbelow. A panic-induced scream rips from my throat, but the two men holding my hands keep them wrapped tightly enclosed in theirs. A steep, short hill leads directly into the river—there is nowhere else to go. Images of dark, hungry river creatures flash through my mind. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I instinctively grasp their hands tighter, knowing that my best chance of survival is with these awful criminals, at least for now. They seem willing to rescue me at this point, so I’ll go with that. Without them, I’ll likely end up ripped apart and shared between river creatures as a midnight snack.

We slide through a steep mix of dirt and mud. I slide down on my back, hitting all sorts of rocks, sticks, and plant life that have found a way to grow out of the hill. My body aches, and I’m sure I’ll have bruises and scratches, if I survive. Somehow, toward the bottom, my hands are still in theirs. And then we are free-falling, cool air rushing around my body before I hit breathtakingly cold water with a loud clap.

Heavy silence fills my ears, the pressure of our drop beneath the deep water pressing against my body, and it begins to ache as we sink lower and lower in the darkness. It’s murky black, but it doesn’t stop me from searching the depths for the reptilian, monstrous creatures who inhabit these waters. All I see are big blotches of darkness appearing and disappearing at random, and I feel the darkness of the magic that gives them life. My lungs feel pressed to my spine, and dots begin to dance in my eyes, then after what feels like too long, my arms are yanked above me, and I begin sluggishly kicking to help in reaching the surface. The added weight of my wet clothing and boots are like literal anchors at my feet as we kick our way up, but finally, we break the surface. I take in a single lungful of air before I’m drug beneath again. Once more, two hands are pulling mine to get me above the surface.

I hate water. I’m not a confident swimmer, and it shows. I feel the current of the river pulling us, and though it seems like we are moving in the same direction as the current, when we climb out, we could be hundreds of miles in the opposite direction with no explanation. The river has a mind of its own.

I look behind and see desperate goblins falling into the river behind us, screeching and flailing. They can’t swim, so I know they can’t hurt us in the water, but I watch in horror as they begin to disappear under the surface, snatched away too quickly for them to have drowned. A shiver of disgust runs down my spine, and I kick faster, hoping my flailing feet don’t make contact with anything solid beneath the surface of this cursed river. Other goblins disappear, seemingly into thin air, and I assume the river decides to send them somewhere else. It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

My attention returns to the men at my sides, the criminal still grasps my left hand, his dark-haired friend my right. The friend with light brown hair, who looks more innocent than he can possibly be, is on the end, to the right of the dark-haired man. It’s difficult to stay above the surface with the awkward swimming I’m forced to endure while hand holding, but I know if we let go, we’ll probably be separated. I certainly can’t have my bounty escaping now that he’s so conveniently in my hands. Quite literally.

Suddenly, the man on the end shouts and struggles. He pulls his sword from its sheath and stabs it into the water with a grunt. I see darkness bloom beneath the water and stare with wide eyes. Nothing happens for a moment, and just as I think it’s safe to assume he’s killed whatever attempted to attack, he’s yanked beneath the surface. The dark-haired man jerks and strains to keep hold of his friend and stay above the surface, but in his effort, he, I, and the criminal begin to struggle and slipbeneath, as well. The first man’s head bobs above the surface with a strangled gasp and then disappears, dragging us beneath once again.

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