Traps, Tricks, and Beasts [Book 2 Complete][Fantasy, Adventure, Underdog]

Squirt had been documenting the sleeping creatures in the treebed when a sharp whistle sounded, a trick Jul could do with steamed water, calling her back out. With a grimace, she tucked away the pen and her book before dashing back to the main ritual staff.

The other hunters were waiting there, having set up the ritual early this morning before waiting for Lord Prince Ranin’s group to arrive.

It was now almost lunch time, and Squirt darted out of the bed, using the shadowy base of the roots for cover as knights in glittering armor led perfectly straight lines of trained guards in full armor, all wearing the crest of Norland. In the very front of the group was the much smaller contingent of Lord Prince Ranin’s personal guard, the lord prince’s Captain of the Guard riding up beside him, and a beast of a man with bright orange hair and a long, tapered beard, long enough to tuck into his belt. Like Ranin, he radiated power and authority, only he stood almost a head taller than the prince.

He had to be a goliath. Not even shifters were built that big. Squirt had just never seen a goliath with hair before, and his locks, braided in a thick warrior crest, were obviously luscious even when confined.

Keeping her thoughts to herself, hidden as she was, Squirt watched.

Lady Cirn stood and gave the waiting men a bow and greeting. “My Lord Prince Commander, Lord Norland, it is good to see you both in good health.”

Lord Norland’s voice sounded like he gargled with rocks as he glared out across the hunters, his eyes suspicious on each of them. “Well? Where is the Great Athereon then?”

Lady Cirn didn’t answer, effectively rebuking the man in favor of the prince while Squirt’s knees started shaking in terror. Pakos, sensing her distress, pressed his shoulder into her side while he wore the moon’s shadow—effectively fading into darkness in a similar way to shadow whale-wolves, only using the ambient darkness to trade his silky white fur for the darkness of a shaded moon.

Lord Prince Ranin’s eyes narrowed slightly as something silently passed between him and Lady Cirn before he said, “Perhaps out scouting. I promise to introduce you later. For now, let us set up.”

The giant of a fey glared at the prince but began barking out orders. The uniform and highly trained Guard broke out into perfect groups, each with their own job. In ten minutes, a command tent had been erected along with a latrine, stations for processed materials, and the camp kitchen.

A few dozen feet away, Squirt watched an angry group of hunters stand squaring off against those in her group.

Jul, Lady Cirn, and Anvanil were pulled into the command tent as they began to give reports, and the first group of soldiers returned laden with beasts. Squirt chose to appear as the chaos was beginning, Pakos dropping the moon’s cloak as he followed close behind her.

He’d finally stopped growing, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Squirt. Several people stared at the faintly glowing beast, and Squirt kept her head down and hood up, no matter how itchy her forehead became.

Within seconds, she was flanked by Qzi and Zhadin who drew a majority of the eyes. In this way, she disappeared from most people’s sight as they assumed Pakos belonged to either of the other two.

“Oi!” one of the other hunters called out towards their little group. He gestured towards the beast before him, one that took on the guise of a tree and laid in wait for victims to wander by known as a withering wood. “Whatchu gonna do with this one, huh? Gonna skin it and sell the bark?”

A couple of the others snickered, clearly taunting the rest.

Squirt trotted closer.

The hunter gave a double take, having not seen where she had come from as she pulled out her skinning blade. Pakos rolled the creature over so it was face down, and she carved one line at the top of the trunk, one towards the bottom, then connected them on one side. Pakos grabbed the top corner, pulling while Squirt leapt to the other side, cutting the skin off as he tugged it back with growls of exertion and play. At the last second, she cut the blade across, finishing the skin a second before the creature poofed into a feystone.

Taking the skin from Pakos and standing it up, she faced the hunter who had spoken and was now wearing a dumbfounded expression. She nodded to the practically free-standing skin, only using her hands to balance it. “The material is not only hard and armored, but it is naturally magic resistant. Tanning the hide will produce a material almost as hard as metal, only naturally light and flexible enough to not crack under pressure.” She dropped it, then pulled out the skin sample in her pouch that she had tried this with and held it out to him with two hands as was polite. “Here. This is it tanned.”

The hunter blinked a few times before accepting the item, knocking his knuckles against it. “No kidding. Light as a damn feather.”

She held out her hands, taking the skin back and holding it by one end. Pakos grabbed the other end with his teeth, and with a playful growl, began tugging and biting down on it. Squirt pulled back with all her might, grunting with the effort. He did a playful shake of his head to try and knock her balance off, and while he tossed her around a bit, she kept a stubborn hold. He tugged twice more, digging in with his heels and dragging her with him.

Then, like a choreographed ballet, he stopped, letting it go as she held it back out to the hunter, pointing to where his teeth had been. “There are small dents, but he wasn’t able to puncture it.”

This drew the attention of a few of the other hunters, including the one who was their leader—a tough looking woman with three scars across her face obviously given to her by a beast.

Squirt kept one eye on her, as there was absolutely malicious intent in her aura. Several of the other hunters gave them mistrustful looks while one sat in a squat off to the side, absentmindedly biting her fist as she studied Squirt intently.

Squirt tugged her hood down a little farther when one of the hunters said, “Wait, give me that, lemme try with the pup.”

A few of the hunters playfully began trying to win tug of war against Pakos, something that greatly amused the hound.

“What’s your hound’s name, miss?” asked one of them, clearly more intent on her dog than her.

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Knowing the storm that had been brewing was about to blow, she answered in a mutter, “Pakos, sir.”

Luckily for her, the guy just shot her a grin, nodding to her forehead. “Devout, aren’t ya? Hoping for her boons?”

Flatly, she muttered, “Couldn’t avoid them if I tried.”

He grinned at her as he got a turn to play tug-of-war before paling slightly as his eyes flickered over her head.

She turned and scowled at Qzi casually flipping a knife while Zakam simply stood, scanning and standing guard.

One of the other hunters tapped the one who’d called her devout on the shoulder and said loudly enough for Squirt to unintentionally overhear, “You don’t think…?”

The man snorted. “The Great Inventor and Hidden Mage Athereon is a greenling huntress? Nah.”

Squirt flinched before rage boiled in her veins.

Greatinventor?

Hidden mage?

What the fuck?

The one who had laughed off the suggestion lost his round of tug-of-war, falling to his butt as the leather was ripped from his hands. Pakos chewed it repeatedly for good measure, greatly enjoying his toy before holding it out to the next in line.

The guy, an orc with a good-natured smile, turned a smile back on Squirt. “Got any other nifty things for us?”

She nodded.

One of the hunters asked, “Wait, seriously? I thought the Great Athereon was teaching us.”

Squirt expression flattened.

The orc waved him off. “Why? I’d rather learn from the greenling than some Capital Prisshat.”

The irony of that statement was so deep, Squirt almost groaned. Instead, she trotted over to a shadow whale-wolf. Pointing to the tail, she said, “See that?”

The orc stood up, brushing off his pants, a couple of the other hunters following him.

Not the one biting her fist or the ones with suspicion in their eyes, though they all watched.

Squirt pulled out her large recurve bow, impressing several there by simply stringing it. Then she trotted over to one of the earth drakes, having Pakos pull back on one of the spines down its back to lift its head off the ground before trotting far enough away to be worth the shot.

And catching the eyes of those in the command tent, its flaps open to the surrounding area.

Taking her stance, she drew the otherwise unwieldy arrow and loosed.

With a piercing whistle, the arrow neatly decapitated the earth drake. She trotted over to the head—almost as heavy as she was—and managed to drag it over to the now astonished hunters. Pointing to the horn on its nose, she said, “That can be used by a skilled weaponsmith as a weapon core.”

One of the hunters shouted, “Wait, seriously?”

She nodded. “It can be forged, though it will take skill and magic. The earth drakes eat metals as they dig, and the metals coat the skeleton but condense in the horn along with their magic. It will make a magical core for a fine weapon.”

The ones that had been listening were now practically hanging off her every word, and the anger in their Chief Huntress only rose in response.

Her aura turned murderous. Not towards Squirt.

Not yet.

Squirt subtly moved away from the woman, watching her out of the corner of her eye.

Those in the command tent noticed a sudden increase in tension as those with Squirt had clocked her nerves.

The hunters she was talking to, on the other hand, remained oblivious, excitedly asking about the next beast they pulled out, one of them exclaiming with a happy, gleeful giggle that she was going to be rich.

Their Chief Huntress snapped. Over the din of the others, her voice cracked like a whip. “I demand Athereon reveal themselves, now.”

Squirt scowled, reluctantly about to respond when the woman who had been chewing on her fist giggled, breaking the deathly silence. “Oh Loby, Loby, Loby. Isn’t it obvious?”

This only fueled the woman’s murderous rage, her hands clenched into fists as she seethed, “This fraud is a mockery. Capital fey games to draw intrigue and distract everyone from their damn coup. I have served the Hunt from my first words, and I will not let them tarnish Her name.”

Squirt’s expression abruptly flattened.

The woman challenged them again, “Where is this Athereon then, the coward so ashamed they would have a greenling teach in their stead?”

Squirt blinked a few times, now reconsidering the woman in front of her. Interestingly, others with the malicious auras weren’t reacting to her angry words. They weren’t agreeing with her, nor disagreeing with her.

The slender elf woman chewing with a grin on her fist eyed Squirt knowingly.

The rage filled eyes were turned Squirt’s way and she growled out, “Tell me now, greenling, if that toff put you up to this.”

The elf snorted.

Squirt bit back the retort that almost escaped, instead bowing politely and starting to speak when Lord Norland’s voice roared out, “Enough is enough—I will not play these games of trust. Do not try to ensnare me with these Capital politics.”

The clearing went silent.

The lord continued in a roar, towering over the irked expression of Lord Prince Ranin and pointing at Squirt. “That is no great mage. You try my patience—”

“I told you, the rumors were blown—”

“You wish me to play your games? Fine. I play them, but you are expected to offer military assistance, and you send me a greenling pretending to be Athereon the Great Mage—”

“Enough!” roared Lord Prince Ranin with enough power to crush everyone in the vicinity. Pakos leapt over to Squirt and shielded her as frost coated the area, making her shiver. In the summer heat, she wore only her hood, trousers, and breast band. “This is no game of trust. I swear by the Goddess of Victory that the huntress you see over there is none other than Lord Everwinter’s Athereon, blessed by the Hunt herself, may she smite me if I lie.”

The entire clearing held its collective breath as Squirt dropped her eyes, her expression drawn tight with tension. Pakos curled around her back before standing shoulder to shoulder with her, his posture as regal as hers was slouched.

The pressure of Lord Prince Ranin’s magic eased as he continued with less anger but still plenty of authority. “I have never, not once, claimed she was an all-powerful mage. I have claimed that she’s a certifiable genius, a highly talented hunter, and incredible inventor. None of that requires copious amounts of magic.”

It’d make it a lot easier, though, Squirt thought petulantly.

Not even gods are perfect, answered Pakos teasingly.

More calmly, Lord Prince Ranin continued, “We have been protective of her identity for a reason Lof.”

The words hung heavily in the air with an accusation laced in them that put the lord on the backfoot.

Finally, with one last glare between the men where Lord Norland dropped his eyes in expected subservience to the higher ranked fey, Lord Prince Ranin commanded, “Continue as you were.”

Squirt winced as all eyes slowly turned to her now that the drama was over.

Shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, with the reveal she finally pushed back the itchy hood, relishing in the instant relief and clutching her recurve bow in her hands, her eyes lowered.

The friendly orc from before asked in an awed whisper, “Are you… really…?”

Squirt scowled. Damnit. A direct question. She answered clearly and tartly, “It is Lord Everwinter’s name for me, yes, but I don’t know anything about the titles. I think some rumors got blown out of proportion.”

He blinked, deflating somewhat. “So you didn’t invent those traps?”

She glared at the ground. “I did.”

“Then… then Riverlands wasn’t overrun by feybeasts because they offended you?”

Glaring, she turned her back. Wearing only the hood and a breastband, the new scarring was pink and swollen in the heat. Over her shoulder, she answered, “They gave me a hundred lashings on false charges because I’m a greenling.” Then turned warily back to the hunters, now raising her eyes with a challenging glare directly at the chief huntress. “I don’t know the rest.”

The orc paled. “A hundred… but your wings!”

Squirt glared at him next, snapping, “Are none of your damn business.”

Rearing back slightly from the heated rage in her eyes, he then dropped his without thinking.

The chief huntress abruptly turned and stalked towards her mount, hopping up into the saddle and rushing off into the greater Wylds. No one stopped her.

Qzi sidled up alongside Squirt, tossing a blade and staring off after the chief huntress. “Too bad. I was hoping she’d do something stupid. How do you feel about guts, pricklebear? I could make you pretty necklaces.”

Ignoring him, she stalked over to the pile of beasts that had stopped growing, the knights and guard having stopped to stare at the commotion, and began hacking up the creatures with her usual speed and dexterity, unable to shake her nerves no matter how much she tried.

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