Read Online Three Slices by Chuck Wendig, Kevin Hearne, Delilah S. Dawson - Free Book Online Page A
Tags: General Fiction
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but I heard Mekera shoulder her quiver and knapsack as the rumble of the Jeep grew louder and the lights grew brighter, shuddering as the suspension tried to deal with the uneven surface of the plain. I finished tying up the knots of the tether to Tír na nÓg just as the Jeep reached about sixty or so yards away; they were probably tracking the thrall’s satellite phone.
Counting on the darkness and my camouflage to keep me invisible and on their engine to mask the sound of my movement, I scrambled to my feet and laid hands on the tree, then had to drop my camouflage so that Mekera and Oberon could find me. They needed physical contact both with me and with the tethered tree to shift.
And in the time it took for them to spot me and move, I was visible to the occupants of the Jeep. I didn’t know how many were there—I couldn’t see past the glare of the headlights—but one of them was definitely Werner Drasche.
“O’Sullivan!” he barked in his Austrian accent, and then he shot me. Or rather, he shot the tree three times, and shot me once. He wasn’t a very good marksman in a moving vehicle and he was clearly aiming for my head. Tree bark exploded above me and then a slug punched into my back, midway down and to the left, making a hash of my spleen. It didn’t pass through, which meant I had to shift with it—and that was fine. The exit wound would have left blood behind for him to play with, and if I stayed around any longer I might have more serious wounds—or a wounded hound or tyromancer.
Oberon and Mekera both yelped and I felt a tug on my amulet as I shifted us to Tir na nÓg, a familiar tug that meant the lifeleech was trying to drain my energy—and that of my companions. I felt the tether snap behind us as we arrived near the edge of the Fae Court, which meant Drasche had tried to prevent my escape by killing the baobab tree.
He had apparently targeted the area around it, since Oberon and Mekera had also been hit. The two of them swayed on their feet, dizzy and weak, and I knelt beside them, drawing energy through the strained connection to earth and feeding it to them, ignoring my spleen for the moment.
I’m trying to fix that.
“What hit us?” Mekera asked, holding a hand to her head.
“The crazy ascot-wearing fool. He took a sip of your energy. He would have taken more if we had stayed there. I’m giving you some back, but you should be fine with some calories and rest.”
“It was weird. I felt a sharp pain all over, and then it was as if I’d fallen into a comfy chair and didn’t have the strength to get out of it. Like a blood donation where they take a bit too much. The sting of the needle and then your life gets siphoned away. Hey, you have a hole in your back.”
“Yeah. I’ll see to it in a minute,” I said, answering them both. “Are you two feeling a little bit better?”
“I’m still tired but not dizzy anymore.”
“Good.” The pain from my gunshot wound was beginning to assert itself and I shut it off. It was time to remove the bullet. “Mekera, would you mind holding your palm about a foot over the hole?”
“What for?”
“I need you to catch the bullet.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m just going to bind the bullet inside me to your palm, and that way, I can start healing.”
“Bind it, like, permanently?”
“No, only for a moment.” After the slug wriggled out of me and flew to Mekera’s hand, I triggered my healing charm and let my body start dealing with the damage. It would be best to take a day or two to rest, and Emhain Ablach would be a lovely place to do that, but I had an advantage now and I didn’t want to waste it. I knew precisely where Werner Drasche was and it was a hell of a long way from Toronto.
He’d left a note with Kodiak Black’s girlfriend that said to find him because we needed to talk, but he’d just proven he’d rather shoot me than
Counting on the darkness and my camouflage to keep me invisible and on their engine to mask the sound of my movement, I scrambled to my feet and laid hands on the tree, then had to drop my camouflage so that Mekera and Oberon could find me. They needed physical contact both with me and with the tethered tree to shift.
And in the time it took for them to spot me and move, I was visible to the occupants of the Jeep. I didn’t know how many were there—I couldn’t see past the glare of the headlights—but one of them was definitely Werner Drasche.
“O’Sullivan!” he barked in his Austrian accent, and then he shot me. Or rather, he shot the tree three times, and shot me once. He wasn’t a very good marksman in a moving vehicle and he was clearly aiming for my head. Tree bark exploded above me and then a slug punched into my back, midway down and to the left, making a hash of my spleen. It didn’t pass through, which meant I had to shift with it—and that was fine. The exit wound would have left blood behind for him to play with, and if I stayed around any longer I might have more serious wounds—or a wounded hound or tyromancer.
Oberon and Mekera both yelped and I felt a tug on my amulet as I shifted us to Tir na nÓg, a familiar tug that meant the lifeleech was trying to drain my energy—and that of my companions. I felt the tether snap behind us as we arrived near the edge of the Fae Court, which meant Drasche had tried to prevent my escape by killing the baobab tree.
He had apparently targeted the area around it, since Oberon and Mekera had also been hit. The two of them swayed on their feet, dizzy and weak, and I knelt beside them, drawing energy through the strained connection to earth and feeding it to them, ignoring my spleen for the moment.
I’m trying to fix that.
“What hit us?” Mekera asked, holding a hand to her head.
“The crazy ascot-wearing fool. He took a sip of your energy. He would have taken more if we had stayed there. I’m giving you some back, but you should be fine with some calories and rest.”
“It was weird. I felt a sharp pain all over, and then it was as if I’d fallen into a comfy chair and didn’t have the strength to get out of it. Like a blood donation where they take a bit too much. The sting of the needle and then your life gets siphoned away. Hey, you have a hole in your back.”
“Yeah. I’ll see to it in a minute,” I said, answering them both. “Are you two feeling a little bit better?”
“I’m still tired but not dizzy anymore.”
“Good.” The pain from my gunshot wound was beginning to assert itself and I shut it off. It was time to remove the bullet. “Mekera, would you mind holding your palm about a foot over the hole?”
“What for?”
“I need you to catch the bullet.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m just going to bind the bullet inside me to your palm, and that way, I can start healing.”
“Bind it, like, permanently?”
“No, only for a moment.” After the slug wriggled out of me and flew to Mekera’s hand, I triggered my healing charm and let my body start dealing with the damage. It would be best to take a day or two to rest, and Emhain Ablach would be a lovely place to do that, but I had an advantage now and I didn’t want to waste it. I knew precisely where Werner Drasche was and it was a hell of a long way from Toronto.
He’d left a note with Kodiak Black’s girlfriend that said to find him because we needed to talk, but he’d just proven he’d rather shoot me than
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