Page 100 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
Even Jaro and Bree aren’t arguing, and Drystan seems to realise that at the same time I do, glowering at both of them.
It hasn’t escaped my notice that it’s the same direction that Uther and his battalion were last spotted heading in.
“Stupid Fomorian getting his ass caught,” the redcap grumbles. “I had plans for this evening.”
“You and me both,” Drystan snarls.
“Oh, really?” I raise my brows at them. “What plans?”
“At the moment? Spanking your ass red for rushing headfirst into danger for a damned Fomorian.” A cart of cabbages catches fire a few paces away and an anguished shout rises from beyond it.
“Shit,” Bree pales and grabs my arm. “Walk faster and don’t look back.”
I open my mouth to ask why, but his reasoning becomes abundantly clear when a gnome launches himself over the flaming cart and straight at Drystan, knives out.
His green eyes are wide with a crazed light, and I grimace as Bree ushers me away from the burning vegetables like our lives depend on it.
“You torched my cabbages!”
Drystan, for once in his life, looks truly afraid as he tries to fend off the two-foot-tall menace that’s trying his best to stab him. “Otis, calm?—”
“Do you know how much effort I put into those!” The gnome stabs down, tearing the fabric of my dullahan’s shirt but not managing to draw blood. “I was the prize winner of the largest vegetable in Illidwen for three years running!”
He’s spiting with fury, little bubbles of it getting caught in his bushy yellow beard and braided hair. His skin is covered with tattoos of different plants, and I think I even spot a little carrot shaped golden earring hanging from one ear.
“Beautiful vegetables, too.” Lore nods frantically, edging away from Drystan towards us.
“Absolutely gorgeous,” Jaro agrees, sidling past the duo.
“Fucking traitors,” Drystan snarls, but is too busy trying to divert a blade that’s heading for his neck.
“Don’t you think you ought to help him?” I ask, cringing as my dullahan takes a foot to the windpipe.
Lore shakes his head frantically, taking my other elbow and doubling our already frantic march up the mushroom stairs.
“Don’t be silly, little pet. Otis is insane.”
Hearing that come from my redcap makes my brows rise into my hairline.
“All gnomes love gardening, but he…” Bree trails off with a shudder. “The things I’ve heard…”
“Oh Goddess?” Jaro mutters. “She doesn’t want to know.Ididn’t want to, and now my mind is forever tainted.”
But Lore instantly understands. “Do you mean that time when he got so excited at the size of one of his leeks that he tried to fit it up his?—”
“Yes.” Bree’s tone is hard, but his lips are pressed together in stifled mirth. “That. And… the turnip incident. Most of the whores in Siabetha disappear whenever he turns up in case he asks them to bring celery into the bedroom.”
“Don’t forget the time he took a trip to the Summer Court in the third era and discovered pineapples,” Jaro pipes up helpfully.
My cheeks flare pink as we finally reach the top of the ravine. “Are you saying he?—”
“Does perverse, deviant things to innocent little vegetables both cooked and raw, and waters them with suspiciously salty water?” Lore glances around him like he’s waiting for the gnome to reappear. “Only when he’s excited. The rest of the time, he realm-hops looking for whatever poor creature is fated to be his mate and scaring little children by putting potatoes in their socks.”
“He’s infamous,” Jaro completes, looking over his shoulder again, like he’s afraid of the gnome coming to get him. “And terrifying.”
“And you abandoned me to deal with him!” Drystan huffs, running up the stairs behind us like he’s being chased by a pack of barghests.
His normally carefully arranged braids are in a mess, his clothes ripped in multiple places, and his eyes are blazing with the fire that got him into trouble in the first place.
