Read Online Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) by Charles E. Yallowitz - Free Book Online Page A

bite. How a coward get so big and strong when only run away?”
    The barbarian scratches the scars on his shoulder and growls like a frustrated beast. “Why do you insist on thinking I am not a threat?”
    “You surrender on path and avoid my attack,” Daga answers matter-of-factly. He bravely approaches Timoran and grins, revealing several missing teeth. “Daga know you refuse to hurt goblins. You weak so all power with me. Nothing coward can do.”
    Using a fraction of his strength, Timoran kicks Daga and sends the elder crashing through one of the mud huts. The other goblins swarm toward the warrior as Fizzle takes to the air and races to the cage, covering it in rainbow breath that solidifies into a protective shell. With a fluid motion, Timoran draws his great axe and holds it so the flat side knocks down several of his attackers with every swing. He sends goblins flying and rolling in every direction as he patiently makes his way to where Daga is groggily getting to his feet. The barbarian charges the last few yards, sending the creatures in front of him scampering for cover.
    “Daga no coward!”
    Timoran hurdles the elder’s charge and spins around to bat a handful of screaming goblins out of his way. His great axe leaves deep gouges in the ground as he swings and misses his nimble opponent. Daga’s shortsword clumsily jabs forward, but the barbarian effortlessly blocks it with his bracers. The other goblins move away from the fast-paced fight, dragging their injured to the willow tree for healing. Every time Timoran deflects one of his enemy’s attacks, an echoing ring dances around the village. The noise causes the trimmels to begin whistling, the animals mistaking the sound for their own mating call.
    “Will you be our guide if I defeat you?” Timoran asks, kicking the elder away. He scowls at the small cut on his boot, the damage caused by one of the elder’s bone spikes.
    The goblin rolls and jumps up to his feet, charging back into the fray. “Daga not lose to coward.”
    “Do we have a deal?”
    “Yes because Daga not lose.”
    “Excellent.”
    Timoran steps out of Daga’s way, watching the grinning elder harmlessly dive past him. The goblin is spinning around when the flat side of the barbarian’s great axe strikes him on the head with resounding force. The elder’s horns splinter, his eyes roll back, and his shortsword slips from his hands. With a spray of spit and a muttered curse, Daga collapses into the mud where he is flipped onto his back by Timoran’s foot.
    “Is there a way to help my friends?” the large warrior asks the nearest goblin. The creature jumps and falls to its knees, preparing to beg for its life. “I will not hurt you if you answer my question.”
    “Trimmel juice or return to big path will clear heads,” the terrified goblin claims in a stuttering voice. “I get juice for your friends. You get when you leave.”
    “Thank you,” Timoran politely says while sheathing his weapon. He picks Daga up by the legs and slings the unconscious warrior over his shoulder. “I need to borrow your elder for a little while. You do not mind, do you?” All of the goblins shake their heads and back away from the smiling barbarian. “I thought not.”

 
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    Luke hacks and coughs at the nauseating taste in his mouth, the half-elf barely aware of the similar noises around him. He grabs a nearby wooden pole to steady himself while his head clears, the mental fog dissipating with a hiss that only he can hear. The sensation of his memory returning makes the warrior feel giddy and sad at the same time. It is as if there is something important that part of him wants to experience again and he is keenly aware that it can never be so. A chorus of stifled weeping catches his attention and he glances at Sari to see that the gypsy is crying. Nyx is already hugging the shuddering girl while Delvin leans in a corner of the cage, rubbing a few tears out of his eyes.
    “Are you guys okay?”