He said uncertainly, “Maybe you should talk?”
Leith spread his arms wordlessly, dropped them. “She doesn’t want to see me.
You just said.” He turned abruptly, walked back to the limo, then paused
before he opened the door. He spoke again, his back to them. “She told me as
much the last time I saw her, before you were born. From what I understand of
quests, we go where they lead.” Val opened his mouth, promptly closed it
again. Leith added, as though he had taken the unspoken point, “It led us
here. Yes. But was that the quest, or was that your mother interrupting it?
Let’s get back on the road, see where it takes us next.”
Not far, Pierce saw with disbelief. They might as well be walking, considering
how difficult it had become to move just a few scant miles along the road.
They had passed through an elegant little resort town with wide beaches and
monolithic rocks crusted with sea life wandering in and out of the tide, when
the town’s four lanes dwindled again into two, then into none. The limo came
to a halt at the end of a long line of traffic curving along the water and
disappearing around the next bend.
“Sorry, sirs,” the driver announced upon consultation with his dash. “Both
lanes are blocked up ahead for nearly a mile. They don’t know how long before
the road is cleared.” He paused, listening again. “They’re—ah—they’re
advising people to turn around, catch another road back in town that runs
through the hills around the—ah, the—ah—problem.”
He sounded oddly shaken. Leith asked, “What exactly is the problem?”
“Seems to be a mythological beast in the middle of the road, sir.”
Val ducked instantly over his cell phone, working rapidly. Leith closed his
eyes briefly, opened them, and said grimly, “Which beast?”
“Ah—they’re not sure, sir. The fire department managed to get some trucks
through from the next town before traffic got too tangled. They tried to chase
it away with hoses and sirens. The beast is sitting on top of one of the
trucks. They’ve sent a photo to the Royal Herald in Severluna.”
“I’ve got it,” Val said briefly, and held it up.
Pierce broke their mystified silence. “It looks like a snake with a rooster’
s head.”
“Basilisk,” Val murmured, entranced by the vision, the enormous, upright
coils balanced between the fire-truck ladders; the fiery cockscomb fanning the
fowl’s head above its huge, open beak; the visible eye, round, golden, with a
mad red flame in its center. “Isn’t there something weird about the basilisk
’s eye? Oh, here it is, in the Royal Herald’s description. Its look can
kill.” He paused; his brows went up. “So can its breath.”
“I doubt that your mother is planning to kill anyone,” Leith protested.
“Except maybe me.”
“I’ve been eyeballing the situation, sir,” the driver said over the
intercom. “I’m fairly certain I can get the limo turned around soon. There’
s a wide bit in the road ahead, and we’re creeping closer to it as more cars
ahead are turning for the detour.”
“It’s probably just another illusion,” Pierce guessed. “It won’t hurt
anyone, and it can’t get hurt.”
“No,” Leith said abruptly. Val looked at him, his eyes narrowed.
“No, which, sir?” the driver asked.
“No, don’t turn. Stay in line.” He reached across Pierce, opened the door,
and stepped out. “And you stay here,” he told his sons.
“But—” Val began.
“You told me to talk to her.”
“But what if it’s not her? I mean, not her making?” Pierce argued. “I
might be wrong about that.”
“It hasn’t done anything more dangerous than commandeer a fire truck.
Besides, what are the odds that two mythological beasts appear along the same
road within half an hour of each other, and they’re not from the same source?
”
“What if it’s not sorcery?” Val asked simply, balancing halfway out the
door behind Leith. “Do you know how to kill a basilisk?”
“Look it up,” Leith said shortly. “Call me and let me know how if I get
into trouble.”
“I think you should—”
“I think this is my fight and not yours.” He pushed against the limo door
until Val yielded, shifted back, and Leith closed it. “My fault, my affair,
and my basilisk. Find your own mythological beast.”
They waited until he had glanced back once, several cars ahead of them, before
they followed him.
Val slipped an assortment of chains, sticks, and metal balls into various
hidden pockets, along with the small, deadly Wyvern’s Eye. Pierce, blankly
considering his own arsenal, pulled the kitchen knife out of his pack. Val
showed him one of the sheaths sewn into his jacket lining. The driver stuck
his fist out the window as they passed, and raised his thumb.
“Good luck, sirs. Be careful.”