Firebrand (17 page)

“The emotions of your human side are very strong and it is the free will of emotion that can either awaken the sleeping demon within you, or control it. The choice will always be yours. The fate of three worlds rest on the hope you will make the right one.”

Amber bit down on her lower lip. “It seems that everyone wants my soul.”

“And more. There is evil descending on the fairy world — pain, death, terror — and there is evil in humankind — anger envy, cruelty. But there is an even larger evil in the troll, a bottomless streak of destruction that seeks out the means to give pain to others and takes delight in wreaking havoc simply to prove they could be the masters.” Amber’s face was bathed in the light of the moon as she lifted her chin in a questioning tilt, the turmoil in her soul evident in her eyes. “If we are all so evil, should any of the worlds be saved?”

The stern look on Tolhram’s age-wizened face softened. “Because you have a chance to allow all worlds the opportunity to escape the burdens of the evils they inherited. Human, fae and troll can stand hand in hand in a circle of peace and carry away with them the strength to live and to love.” He touched her cheek. “Only you can make that moment happen, Amber.”

Amber’s gaze held his as she considered his words. “A beautiful thought but also a heavy burden to bear.”

“Look deep inside yourself. Make room inside your human essence for the others that exist there. You are a child of the humans, the fae and the trolls and you must accept your destiny and inherit your worlds.”

Tolhram spread his arms and turned in a slow circle. As he did, those in attendance dropped to their knees. When the circle was complete, he slowly fell to one knee and lowered his head. “We yield the fate of the fae to you.”

* * * * *

The little fairy moaned as David adjusted her in his arms. He had no idea of how long he’d been walking. Time had an entirely different meaning in the fairy ring than it had in his own world. But he did know the fairy in his arms was getting weaker. Hurrying through the thicket and back through the lavender field, he finally saw what appeared to be a gathering of some sort.

“I need help!” he called out.

A low drone of voices rose as one by one, the fairy folk acknowledged a human in their midst.

“What have you done, human?” one of the men cried out, starting toward him. He took Roswyn from David’s arms. “You killed her!”

“No,” David said, raising his hands in a defensive motion. “She’s hurt badly but she’s not dead.”

The fairy looked from Roswyn’s pale face to David’s. “Then if she dies, so do you, human!” Other voices joined him in accusation, crying out in disgust and shouting threats. He saw the fairy man put a ram’s horn to his lips and the loud note that signaled distress filled the air.

David threw up his hands over his ears as the air was rent with the sound of a myriad of wings all beating in unison creating a resonance that ripped through him. The high-pitched reverberation filled him, pain exploding in his head like one he had never felt before. He fell to his knees and felt a warm trickle of blood run down his neck from his ears. Then from somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard his name.

“David?” It was followed by a command. “Stop!” Almost immediately the earsplitting noise ceased.

David felt a hand on his cheek. He slowly raised his head and opened his eyes. “Amber,” he whispered.

She put her arm around him and he stood on shaky legs. “You were supposed to wait outside the ring. How did you get here?”

“He did this!” one of the fairy men shouted as another walked forward with Roswyn in his arms.

“No!” David responded. “I saw a troll enter the ring and I followed him. He must have surprised her.”

Amber put a hand on Roswyn’s cheek. The small fairy stirred and opened her eyes for a moment. Then her head lolled to the right and her eyes closed again.

Tolhram walked toward them. “A troll? Here?” His voice boomed. “Impossible. A troll cannot cross the plane and enter the ring unless brought by fae.”

“But one did enter nonetheless,” David said, straightening fully and holding Tolhram’s gaze. “And so did I.”

Corin pushed to the front of the crowd encircling David. His eyes blazed with hate and anger, then softened as he surveyed his unconscious beloved. “A troll, a human, it makes no difference who breached the plane. Roswyn lies gravely wounded because of it.”

“She needs medical attention. Get her to the castle,” Amber commanded. A small group hurried to comply.

Alara stepped forward and placed her hand on Corin’s shoulder. “We’ll take care of her. You should go with her.”

“No. I will avenge her.” Corin moved closer to David, his hand gripping the blade at his side. “Tell me what you saw, human.”

“Nothing really. I was following the troll who entered the ring but lost sight of him. He must have come upon her and attacked her.”

Tolhram slowly shook his head. “Then it truly has begun. The lines between the worlds are blurring. We can expect more visits like this as the Triad nears. It’s the only explanation.”

“If more come, we will be ready,” Corin vowed.

Tolhram put his hands on Corin’s shoulders. “Go. Be with Roswyn. When she is out of danger, you can join the others.”

Once the young soldier was on his way, Tolhram turned to those who remained. “We must never let what happened to her happen to another.”

Amber stepped forward and picked up her
hookra
. She held it high above her head. “No grandfather. I must never let what happen to Roswyn happen to another.”

Chapter Fourteen

A half-hour before dusk the guards allowed Marcus and Brian to stop digging and handed them a plate of brown meat to share. One of the guards had tossed small branches onto the fire, feeding its need. It filled the cave with some warmth and a small amount of flickering light. For a while they sat in silence and ate.

“Brian, I want to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember the first day I came here?”

“Yes.”

“Did the trolls tell you why I was coming?”

“To help me find it.”

“But you already had found it.”

Brian looked at Marcus in silence then slowly turned and watched the flames that glowed and sputtered between them. A small draft sent the gray smoke rising above the fire into curls that faded as quickly as they were formed. Brian recaptured Marcus’ gaze and nodded.

“Will you show me?” Marcus asked him.

Brian looked at Marcus for a while longer then got to his feet. “Go up on the ledge. Lie down.”

“On the ledge?”

“Yes. Lie down on your belly and look straight ahead.”

Marcus was halfway up to the ledge when he heard Brian laugh.

“The trolls, too big too fat to lie there and not fall off. They never see.”

Marcus stopped. Was Brian hallucinating? Or mad? He could not see anything ahead of him. Despite his reservations, he lay down on the ledge. It was barely wide enough to accommodate his body but it was firm. He pillowed his head on his bent arms.

“Straight,” Brian urged. “Look straight.”

Marcus squinted. To his surprise, there was a cleft in the ice. The textures and makeup of the ice formation had deftly hid it from view.

“Reach inside,” Brian said. “To the left.”

Marcus crawled forward cautiously, extending his hand into the slit. With searching fingers, his hand met something firm. He reached deeper inside the opening and slid his fingers around what felt like a tube. Slowly he pulled it toward him. When his hand emerged from the opening, his fingers were wrapped around the hilt of a dull colored stiletto that looked transparent like a ghostly apparition but was as unyielding as the ice on which he lay. He rolled to his back and held it in front of his eyes.

The Sword of Shadows. It had to be.

* * * * *

Arms folded across her chest, Amber paced the hallway outside Alara’s chamber. She needed to figure out what she had to do to stop what was happening. “I feel like this is all my fault.”

“Amber. Honey. There’s nothing you could have done to save Roswyn.” David kept pace with her. He put his hand on her arm. “Believe me. Nothing.”

She gave her head a small shake in response to the look on David’s face. “I know,” she replied.

“You look as intense as a bloodhound trying to pick up a scent.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, obviously still distracted.

He stepped in front of her and took her by the arms. “I read somewhere that bloodhounds get so focused that sometimes they have walked right over cliffs and even into the path of speeding cars.” He tightened his grip just enough to get her attention. “Stay with me, Amber. You can’t do this alone.”

She blinked hard. “No, I won’t.”

Amber stared at him so intently that David felt he was about to burst into flame. He broke contact with her, unsure if she could actually do it.

“We have one sword, right?” she asked.

“Yes, the Sword of Adam.” He grasped the hilt of it at his side. “Safe until needed.”

“And the others?”

“The Sword of Light is hidden at Donahyde Castle. A contingent of the fae is preparing to retrieve it as we speak.”

Amber pressed her lips together. “That’s where Eric Sinclair wanted me to go.” She gave her head an angry shake. “He played me, David. He knew. All along he knew.”

“I think he confirmed your true identity about the time you did.” David felt the muscle along his jaw line tense. “And that makes the situation all the more dangerous.”

“And the trolls still don’t have the other sword, right?”

David nodded. “That’s why they are searching so feverishly in the ice cave in Norway.”

“It makes no sense that the trolls did not protect that sword.”

“Trolls are not very logical creatures. They live and hunt for physical pleasure and most are easily distracted.”

“But they were smart enough to kidnap Marcus to search for it and lure you into a trap. And if the third sword is still missing, why worry about the Triad. It can’t happen without all three swords, right?”

“Honey, it’s not that simple. The swords are merely implements that have to be placed in a lock in order to open a conduit in which the final key must be placed.”

Amber touched the amulet on her neck. “And if it isn’t?”

“Chaos. Eternal war with the strongest preying on the weakest. Death. Destruction.”

Amber lowered her eyes. “Either way, I think I lose.”

David tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before trailing his fingertips across the soft line of her jaw to her lips. “If there’s a way to stop that from happening, I’ll find it.” She smiled sadly and he lowered his hand.

“My father won’t help them find the sword. He won’t do it. I know my father.”

“He has no choice.”

“Will they hurt him if he refuses.”

He heard the anxiety in her voice. “Perhaps, but I think he’s safe. For now.”

“How can you be sure?”

“The humans and fae have made allies over the years with trolls who want peace among the worlds and help us.”

“They’ll help him escape?”

David shook his head. “No, Amber. There aren’t that many of them. Plus everything is happening according to the path set out by the First One. The swords will converge at a time and place predestined, a crossroad that will change everything. We know that. The only variable is the path destiny will take.”

She sighed heavily and shook her head, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. “A week ago I was a normal person and now I’m the freak who has to save the world. No, make it three worlds.” She leveled her gaze and captured David in her sight line. “Three worlds. Can you believe that?”

David nodded, moving closer to her. “Yes, I’m afraid that I do.”

Amber’s eyes glistened with a wash of building tears. “Why did you make me love you, David?”

He met her eyes. “I think I was supposed to.”

“What do you mean?”

He took her hands and held her gaze. “Do you remember the first day we met?”

Amber nodded.

“That day, something inside me whispered —
give her your heart and she’ll give you the most wondrous gift of all.
” He smiled. “And I was powerless to do anything else.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have, David.”

“No, honey. It could not be any different. I can’t imagine my life without you. I swear to you, if there is something I can do to take this terrible burden from you, it’s only a matter of time before I find out how to do it.”

“Time.” Amber sighed and lowered her head. “That’s something we don’t have very much of.”

* * * * *

Marcus watched as Brian McKenna slept by the brazier set in the center of the cave in which they had been chipping away the ice for what seemed like months. He looked around. The guards were not there. He didn’t know why they had been called away, nor did he care. The fire had banked down to just a glow, so he stirred it until the flames leapt. He wanted Brian to sleep. He told himself it was the only way.

Quickly he climbed to the ledge and dropping to his hands and knees, inched toward the gap in the ice face. Over the past few days, when the guards finally left after they thought he had drank the blue liquid and when Brian slept, he had been widening it. Not enough to be noticed, just enough for his thinner body to get through.

He slid forward and peered inside. The small gap opened to an inner cave, dead and dark, with barely any light reaching it. He thrust his body halfway through the small opening and lay still, waiting until his eyes became accustomed to the darkness.

He could see the faintest gray glimmer across the way. There must also be a crack open above it because there was a slight current of air, a cold thread that wove its way to him and with it came a sound that was music to his ears, footsteps crunching over frozen rock

Across the dark inner cave was the way out.

Marcus backed out of the tight space slowly and shinnied his way back to the fire. As noiselessly as possible be gathered up anything he thought might help him on what he knew would probably be a life or death trek, his tattered bedroll, the remnants of his dinner, a few strips of an animal hide that had been discarded by his guards.

As he passed a sleeping Brian McKenna, Marcus paused. “Forgive me but I have neither the strength nor the heart to take you with me,” he whispered. He stared at Brian a moment longer ignoring the possible death sentence he had just doled out before inching along the ledge and entering the central cave. With a tug, he pulled his meager provisions inside with him.

He slipped from the ice shelf on which he emerged and found solid footing on the floor of the cave. Noiselessly he stepped toward the opening across the way. He was halfway there when he heard several trolls through the gap.

“The Master wants the Drakeman,” one of them said.

“Why?” asked the other.

“Bait. For the one he wants.”

“And the other?”

“We kill him, says the Master. We kill him now.”

Marcus dropped the pack he was holding and took out the sword before scrambling back in the direction in which he came. It didn’t matter if the trolls heard him or not now. What mattered was that he knew if he didn’t get to Brian McKenna before they did, Brian would die for sure.

He retraced his steps and got back just as two trolls entered the cave. The clamor had rousted Brian from his sleep. Marcus dropped to his knees and moved the stiletto he was holding so it was hidden between their bodies. “Don’t provoke them,” he warned.

The larger of the two held his spear in a ready position. “You. Drakeman. Move away from the other,” he shouted moving toward them.

“We’ll get back to work now,” Marcus said, puling Brian to standing and making sure the sword remained hidden. He pushed Brian toward the back of the cave. “We dig.”

“No! Too late to dig. The Master says you come Drakeman, but not the other.”

The troll thrust the spear forward. Brian barely had enough time to react and move out of the path of the sharp end. The spear struck the wall of the cave sending ice shards in all directions.

As the soldier struggled to remove the spear from the wall of the cave, the second troll surged forward bent on accomplishing what the other had not. Marcus did not hesitate. In a large arc, he swung the sword out from behind his back and brought it down into the chest of the assailant. Death was immediate. He fell forward, brushing the back of the other guard.

The remaining troll turned in time to see the body of his comrade hit the floor. “Aheee, you kill Furnum Redfern,” he shouted, anger twisting the already distorted angles of his face. “Now me kill you both!”

In one fluid motion, Marcus grabbed the spear of the fallen troll and thrust it into the belly of the remaining guard. His yellowed eyes widened. He looked from the spear protruding from his midsection to Brian and then Marcus before he joined his companion in death.

Marcus’ body shifted into automatic. “Help me remove their clothes and shoes. Grab anything from them you think may help us survive. We have to get out of here before more of them come.”

Brian dropped to his knees near the first body and began removing the coat. “There’s no where we can go. No shelter.”

“Stay here if you want,” Marcus said, tying a leather cord around the animal skin coat he had just removed from the one called Furnum. He held up the sword, crimson with blood. “I have to get this away from here.” He leveled his gaze. “Even if it means my life.” The sound of heavy steps on cracking ice made him look up.

“What is this?” Spear in hand, the troll who entered the cave shuffled to Furnum’s body. “What have you done, Drakeman?” he asked in a hoarse whisper when he saw the deadly wound in the chest.

Marcus reacted on instinct. A glint of gray slashed toward the hand in which the troll held the spear, the razor sharp edge splitting gnarled flesh. The troll screamed in pain, dropping the spear and grabbing his injured hand.

“Stop, Drakeman,” he shouted scrambling backward as Marcus took slow steps toward him holding out the sword.

“We’re leaving this place,” Marcus said. “Out of our way or you’ll join your friend on the ground.”

The troll’s gaze fixed on Marcus’ hand. “The sword. You have found it!”

Marcus circled the wounded troll. “And as you can see,” he said, gesturing briefly to the one laying on the ice floor, “I will use it if you try to stop us.”

The troll raised his bloodied hand. “I have no intention of stopping you. And you must hurry.”

Confusion veiled Marcus’ face. “Don’t try to trick me,” he warned, lifting the sword higher.

The troll lowered the hood covering his head. “I am Plim Nightwing, the one who warned you about the liquid.”

Marcus’ hand slowly lowered. “Why?”

“Not all of my kind want to rule. Some, like me, want things to remain the same. To do that, you must take the sword in your hand to the Mage of the Gisparry Guild.”

“You’ll help us?”

Plim shook his head. “There is more for me to do before the Triad. I can’t help you.” He stepped aside. “Travel east toward the sea. There you may find shelter. I will try to get word to the Guild. More than that, I cannot do.”

Marcus looked past him into the blinding white of the land beyond the cave and hesitated.

“Go,” Plim urged. “And do all you can to survive. The sword must not fall into the hands of Troll King.”