The Master by Jackson Melanie

Author:Jackson, Melanie [Jackson, Melanie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, General, Paranormal, Fiction
ISBN: 1428516980
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2011-07-26T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“These goblins who are after this family . . . I’ve been thinking about this. King Quede was engineering some strange hybrid beings. We may not have discovered them all—or destroyed all his projects,” Roman Hautecoeur admitted reluctantly. His breathing was calm. Being part pooka, he was good at running. Being curious, he was determined to see the goblins that had invaded fey territory.

“And you think Lobineau has been busy hunting them up and enlisting them for his own purposes?” Thomas asked. He wasn’t winded either, but his voice reflected the fact that he, Roman and their friend Abrial had run nearly two miles at speeds humans could only imagine. He’d collected them to come on this mission. “I’ve about decided this myself.”

“Maybe. Probably. He was willing to raise a hobgoblin from the dead—though how he managed it, I still don’t know,” Roman added.

“ ‘Will no one rid me of this meddlesome priest?’ ” Thomas asked, only half in jest. Actually, Roman figured it was probably something less than half, since Thomas wasn’t smiling.

“Gladly. Say the word and he is gone. I can be in New Orleans before sunset and finish the job.”

“And thus would end our first attempt at détente with a goblin hive,” Thomas said gloomily. “We don’t have any proof of wrongdoing, you know. At least, not yet.”

“Hey, it’s been more taunt than détente since Lobineau took over. We’ve let him get away with . . . well, murder. Politics!” Roman sounded disgusted.

“Our lives are always about politics, one way or another. And you know what they say about diplomacy,” Thomas prompted.

“Something I won’t like?” Roman guessed. Thomas snorted.

“Chou En-lai said that diplomacy is the continuation of war by other means. Or, as Galbraith put it: ‘Politics is not the art of the possible; it consists of choosing between the disastrous and the unpalatable.’ ”

“You’re quoting humans again,” Roman complained. “Surely we fey had something to say about this.”

Abrial spoke up, finally joining the conversation. “Nothing as succinct. When it comes to politics and war, humans have always had us beaten hands down. We—the unseelie, at least—deal more in treachery and assassination.” He gave a dark smile, as if contemplating just such a solution to the invading goblins.

Thomas shook his head. “Fascinating though this subject is, further discussion will have to wait. I can smell the dragon. He’s barbecuing again.”

Roman laughed shakily. “Man! I hope that it’s goblin on the grill and not our family of four.”

Zee sat down wearily and pulled off her shoes. She upended them, emptying out a small river of sand. Nick realized that his shoes—his now mostly destroyed leather-soled loafers—were also filled with grit, and that his feet were blistered.

“Nick?” Zee looked longingly at the stream that had appeared in the cavern. “Do you think . . . ? ”

“Let me taste it first,” he answered, kicking off his shoes.

The water bubbled gaily at his approach, bathing him in soft blue light and beckoning him closer. Once again, he could smell the pleasing scent of berries and fern.

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