Chronicles Of The Keeper - The Long Hot Summoning Part 63

"You want Claire coming home to find Meryat waiting for her."

No. He didn't. "How do we capture a basilisk without turning to stone ourselves?

Austin stared up at him in disbelief. "Do I have to think of everything?"

Chapter TWELVE.

While Keepers spent pretty much their entire lives fighting to keep the world safe, they didn't usually get involved in actual fighting of the hand-to-hand, teeth-to-arm, knees-to-groin variety. And no matter how many Sat.u.r.day afternoons got wasted watching badly dubbed kung fu movies, it didn't help.

Diana realized this about ten seconds into the fight. She couldn't reach the possibilities, she'd lost her prepared defenses, and she had no idea how to disable her opponents with a shopping cart. Not that there was a shopping cart handy.

Running, while the intelligent response, had got them exactly seven paces closer to the throne before two of the giant bugs, moving in that creepy, skittery, fast way that giant bugs had laid claim to since the old black-and-white movie days, had cut them off. Diving out of the way of a flailing forearm, or foreleg, or sixleg or whatever it was called on a bug, Diana smacked her head against the floor and, just for an instant, heard the voice of Ms. McBride, her last biology teacher.

". . . size to ma.s.s ratio ..."

Yeah. That was helpful.

Fortunately, her belief that the meat-minds were too clumsy to simultaneously walk and breathe made them an avoidable threat for the most part. The bugs were the problem. Just as the bugs had been the problem in the access corridor.

"Diana, are you listening?"

Apparently not.

She caught a quick glimpse of Kris going up and over a meat-mind, her black hightops digging into knees, thighs, hips, chest, and shoulders like they were part of her own personal jungle gym. As the mall elf leaped clear, the pursuing bug knocked the meat-mind a.s.s over tip and got itself tangled in the sudden barricade of flailing arms and legs. Diana wasted a moment imagining what Kris could do with a shopping cart, then, at the last possible instant, dropped flat and slid under a descending carapace.

And let's hear it for polished marble floors! she noted as her slide put her considerably closer to the wand. She could see it, lying all pink and plastic on the steps of the throne, but she couldn't . . . quite . . . reach . . .

The bug's leg caught her a glancing blow, skidding her a couple of meters in the wrong direction.

"This will be on the final exam."

What will?

She'd written her final biology exam only ten days ago. You'd think I'd remember more of it. Which was either a scathing indictment of the public school system, or she should start worrying about her short-term memory.

Curved, sword like mandibles cut through the back of her sweater and hoisted her onto her feet.

Mandibles. Maxillae. Labium or lower lip.

Her final exam'd had an entire section on bugs. Cla.s.s Insecta. A useless spewing of information she a.s.sumed she'd never need again, her present situation having been unantic.i.p.ated at the time. Evidently, a little shortsighted of her.

Insects. Nearly a million known species.

Every kind of land environment supports a flourishing insect population.

"So, Ms. McBride, if bugs are so great, how come they aren't taking over the world like in them old movies?"

Diana smiled and mentally thanked Daryl Mills. The bug holding her shuddered as its exoskeleton cracked in a dozen places with a sound like cheap winegla.s.ses. .h.i.tting a concrete floor. She jumped clear as it collapsed under its own weight. Most of a sperm whale's weight was supported by water. Elephants had evolved ma.s.sive bones and muscles to deal with their bulk. Size/ma.s.s ratio.

Giant bugs were impossible.

So there.

The sound of breaking gla.s.s filled the throne room and pieces of chitin buzzed around like shrapnel. The Shadowlord shrieked like a hockey mom after a bad call.

Three steps and she'd be at the dais. Up two stairs and she'd have the wand. One moment after that, it would all be over but the fat lady singing. Whatever that meant.

Three steps and . . .

Something caught her between the shoulder blades and she went down, hard.

Epicuticle, she thought muzzily as it bounced and landed about two centimeters from her nose. This isn't . . .

A booted foot pressed hard against the back of her neck.

. . . good.

She swung out as a hand in her hair dragged her up onto her knees but only succeeded in overbalancing and nearly scalping herself. Blinking away memories of grade school ponytails so tight she looked like Mr. Spock's kid sister, Diana screamed "RUN!" over the Shadowlord's ultimatum that Kris surrender.

"What did you listen to him for?" she demanded a moment later as two meat-minds dropped Kris beside her.

The mall elf got shakily to her knees. "Like I was going to leave you here alone?"

How romantic. Well, since you asked, not very. "You could have gone for help!"

"As if. It's wall to friggin' wall of meat-minds out there. Couldn't get past them."

Okay. Even less romantic.

"So I remembered something I was told, way back," Kris continued. "If you're going to lose anyway, surrender before they kick your a.s.s, not after."

"Arthur?"

"My mom."

"Smart lady."

"That time."

"Are you two finished catching up?" the Shadowlord snarled.

"So, 'rents still together?" Diana asked, shuffling around so that she was facing the other girl.

The mall elf stared at her for a moment, then disbelief disappeared behind a gleeful smile as she caught on. When it seems like there's no options left, there's always the option of being a pain in the a.s.s. "Nah, my dad split about six years ago. I'm guessin' you've got the whole happy suburban family thing going down?"

"Oh, yeah. We're a walking, talking WASP cliche except for that whole Keeper, Cousin, cat thing."