The Inquisition (Summoner, #2)(79)

She stroked Apophis’s carapace, smiling in a toothy grimace.

‘When I did encounter him a year later, the boy I knew had gone. All that remained was a cruel brute. I embarrassed him, walking into that camp, trying to save him in front of his fellow warriors. He beat me near to death and left me for dead. The gremlins found me and brought me here.’

It was all beginning to make sense now. The orcs’ mindless savagery, their pitiless slaughter. Even Baker’s journal had not mentioned this strange enslavement of their own people.

Fletcher wondered what she was doing, hiding in the bowels of the earth? And who were these gremlins, that lived apart from the orcs? She answered him before he could ask.

‘These are the wild gremlins, those that were never enslaved but still live in fear of the orcs. There are other warrens, littered around the jungle, but this is the largest of them. It is my hope to free all gremlins from their masters, and one day end the vicious cycle of hatred my people follow.’

‘I still don’t understand,’ Cress murmured under her breath.

‘What’s that?’ Mother asked, her hearing razor sharp.

‘What’s the point in all this? The soldiers, the armies? Why do you want to destroy Hominum?’ Cress blurted.

‘I don’t want to destroy anything. They follow a prophecy, written on the walls of the ancient pyramid. That a white orc will lead them to conquer the known world. That one comes every thousand years. I know little else. Only the shamans know what is written, for only they can enter the pyramid itself.’

‘And goblins,’ Sylva added, raising her eyebrows. ‘They seem to be allowed in there too, since they and their eggs reside in the cave network beneath it.’

‘The goblins are something I know little about,’ Mother sighed, lifting a fingertip and allowing Apophis to land there. ‘In truth, I dare not send my Mites to look within the pyramid, for it is said that it is protected by demons. They might recognise my Mites for what they are.’

‘Well, we’ll find out when we get there,’ Jeffrey said, then paused and looked at his lap. ‘If we get there.’

‘I heard of your mission through Apophis, and I will help you. The noblewoman showed a great kindness to my friend here, as did one of you,’ Mother pointed at Blue, who bowed his head solemnly. ‘This gremlin, in turn, taught me the rudiments of your language, and the rest I learned as my Mites watched your troops in the front lines. This knowledge has saved many gremlin lives and for that I am thankful.’

‘And the goblins?’ Sylva asked. ‘What of them?’

‘An abomination, to be wiped from the face of our world,’ Mother snarled.

She coughed suddenly, hacking and wheezing until she had to sit down, her back hunched and bowed. The orc was smaller than she had first appeared, shrunken and shrivelled by age. The paint hid the deep wrinkles in her face, but now that she was level with Fletcher, she appeared fragile and insubstantial.

‘I grow tired,’ Mother breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘Just remember what I have told you … we are not all monsters. Go with my blessing. My gremlins will guide you from here. You have only a few hours left.’





36


When they emerged from the Warren, Fletcher could not help but collapse to the ground and look up at the sky, revelling in the fresh air and dawn light. Already, the sun was setting, casting the clearing in a warm orange glow. He had no idea where they were, or how far the pyramid was. They needed to leave soon, but he could barely find the energy to sit up.

The gremlins remained within their Warren, except for Blue, who watched them warily from the main entrance. Others peered out curiously, their bulging eyes just visible over the lip of their respective holes.

Even the baby gremlins were present. One took a step out to get a better view, and was dragged back inside by its scolding mother. The yelps of protest within told Fletcher it was getting a sound spanking.

Fletcher let his head flop to the side and saw that Othello was still passed out on the floor, his nostril flaring with each snore. The dwarf smacked his lips and rolled over, clutching at Lysander’s claw like a stuffed toy.

‘Right, that’s it,’ Cress growled, brushing soil and slime from her uniform. ‘Nap time’s over.’

She straddled Othello’s chest and tugged on his moustaches.

‘Blargh,’ he spluttered, slapping at her hands.

‘That’s right, wakey wakey,’ Cress grinned. ‘You’ve had enough beauty sleep.’

Othello shoved her off and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

‘I feel like I’ve been smashed over the head with a rock,’ he groaned. He caught sight of their surroundings and froze.

‘Ummm … what’s going on?’

He looked around, taking in the gremlin eyes that watched them.

‘Come on,’ Cress said, dragging him to his feet. ‘I’ll explain on the way.’

‘On the way?’ Fletcher mumbled. The soil was cool on his back, and he had no desire to get up just yet.

‘Looks like we’re heading out,’ Sylva said, tapping him on the forehead and pointing at Blue’s receding back. The gremlin and his mara were walking into the jungle, following a thin, barely discernible trail.

‘Gather your packs,’ Fletcher groaned, getting to his feet. ‘Blue’s on the move.’