Wings by E. D. Baker

Author:E. D. Baker
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Bloomsbury USA
Published: 2008-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Having learned at his Halloween party that Tamisin actually could control lightning, or at least summon it, Jak was even more nervous about escorting her through the fey countryside. As a person who’d proven to have real power, not only was she dangerous to be around, but she was valuable to all kinds of fey. And since those goblins at the party had seen what she could do, word was bound to have spread.

They were passing between two farmers’ fields when the first cat streaked through the hay to fall in step just behind them. Another arrived the moment they entered the forest, dropping down from a branch to land lightly on its feet and start off down the path in front of them.

It was nearly dark by then, but at the first curve in the forest Jak saw lights shining through the windows of a squat stone building with an oddly peaked roof. A picture of a large, emerald green beetle decorated a swinging sign above the door.

“Thank goodness,” said Tamisin. “I was afraid we wouldn’t reach it before nightfall.”

“I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” said Jak, but he wasn’t looking at Tamisin or the inn when he said it. The cats had stopped on the path directly in front of the inn and had turned to face him. With the fur on the arched spines of both cats bristling, their ears pinned back, and their tails lashing, Jak was sure they were trying to tell him something. “Maybe we should just …”

The door to the inn flew open behind the cats, revealing a manlike figure in the doorway. Wielding a broom, he darted out of the inn and swatted at the cats, chasing them off into the night. “Won’t you come in?” he asked, hustling Jak and Tamisin inside.

It took a moment for Jak’s eyes to adjust to the dim light filtering through the smoke from the fireplace, and so he was startled when a goblin appeared out of the shadows to greet them. His mottled scalp was hairless, and he had neither lashes nor eyebrows to soften the appearance of his bulging eyes. He wore dark moleskin pants and an apron over a brown shirt that was rolled up at the elbows, exposing big, muscular arms and little, short-fingered hands. Even before he spoke, the goblin flicked his tongue at each of them, tasting their scent.

“Bob, of the lizard clan, at your service,” he said, wiping his hands on his apron. “Welcome to the Green Beetle Inn. I’m the proprietor. How many people in your party?”

“Just two,” said Jak.

The innkeeper grunted and turned to survey the room. Although it was early in the evening, it was already crowded. The only unoccupied table was near that of three old women dressed in gray who sat hunched in the corner by the fireplace. Jak could tell why no one had sat at the empty table when he saw that the smoke from the fireplace always blew in its direction.

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