Bet on the Waif (Merlin's Waif Book 2) by Renee Jagger & Michael Anderle

Author:Renee Jagger & Michael Anderle [Jagger, Renee & Anderle, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2025-03-20T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Fabric attached to twigs stuck into the ground formed a hallway inside the tent, making it far more claustrophobic than Merritt had expected. Behind the walls, shadows moved. More screams echoed from deep within the tent, eerie beneath the stretched patchwork. Distant conversation came in mutters that abruptly fell silent when Merritt and Damian passed. Her fur bristled.

“Chief Eike will rip your faces off,” the mole whispered. “He’ll destroy you.”

“He’ll boil your bones for broth,” the leprechaun growled.

“He’ll use your skins to fix that hole in the tent!” The mole pointed. “That one, right there!”

Merritt endeavored to look frightened with limited success.

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” Damian growled.

“Yeah, you’d better be,” the mole hissed.

Damian sighed.

The hallway seemed to go on forever, but at last, they found two more guards and a final tent flap leading into the tent’s central room.

After those close quarters, the room seemed spacious. A pile of stones at the center supported a throne roughly carved from wood, its bottom splintered as though they had wrenched it from its supports in a hurry. More guards surrounded the pile’s base. Small fires in pits lined with clay sent threads of smoke toward the tent’s roof.

A kobold reclined upon the throne, the flickering fires lighting him from below. His hooked nose drooped over a pointed chin. Purple lips curved cruelly up toward his sharp cheekbones, revealing needle-like teeth. Sharp eyes hid in sunken sockets, so pale they were nearly white, their glitter ominous against his grayish skin. A crown made of the teeth of small animals jutted from his bald head, and he wore a fur robe.

Shrew fur, Merritt realized.

The kobold held a spear in one hand. Unlike the guards’, this one had a flint head. “What is this?”

The leprechaun bowed. “Chief Eike, sir, we found these intruders by the canal.” He prodded Damian.

“Stop that,” the bat snarled.

“They come from the surface!” the weremole called.

The guards gasped.

“They’re here to eat our faces!” the weremole wailed.

The guards muttered in panic.

“Really?” the leprechaun hissed. “Do you have to be such a drama queen?”

“Silence!” Chief Eike snapped.

The guards instantly quieted. Eike leaned forward. The firelight illuminated bags below his eyes, the skin so dark it seemed bruised. His hand quivered on his spear.

“What say you, surface dweller?” he demanded.

“Well—” Damian began.

Merritt talked over him. “Sir, we’re from the surface, but we’re not here to hurt you. We noticed that corrupt magic is poisoning our plants above ground and came down here to⁠—”

Eike sank into his throne, a shudder running through him. “Kill them!”

“Hey!” Merritt folded her forelegs. “Let me at least⁠—”

The weremole lunged. Merritt stepped aside and grabbed the spear as it slid past her. She ripped it from the weremole’s grasp as her tail whipped around his hind legs, yanking them out from under him. He fell face-down with a heavy grunt.

“Stop them! Stop them!” Eike thundered.

Damian spread his wings, buffeting the leprechaun as he swooped away. The leprechaun stumbled as the other guards charged. Merritt slammed the spear’s butt into his butt.

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