Honeyed Words (39 page)

Maybe being a grown-up was knowing when to take help and letting someone else clean up some of the messes.

Still tasted like failure to me.

Fifty-three

The day was starting to fade by the time we pulled into Black Briar. There were a dozen cars and trucks in the yard and a passel of folk. Gunther was directing a crowd to get a bonfire set up. Made me think back to the battle in the spring, how the giants and dragon had scattered that bonfire, setting smaller fires in the thick grass, making the battlefield that much more crazy.

I wandered over to the old barn while Julie hobbled into the house to see Deidre. She’d leave soon, but for now she wanted to be social.

I didn’t see Katie’s car. Stuart was helping a couple of young guys carry out one of the newly built picnic tables that could seat a dozen or more. They were lining them up along the side of the new barn; two others were already in place. No one seemed to notice me right away, so I stepped into the ruined barn.

Smells of damp and burned wood filled my nostrils. I’m not sure anyone had crossed over the ruined threshold into the barn proper since Maggie had ridden through the raging fire to attack Jean-Paul in her suicide mission to try and save Susan—or join her in death.

We knew the ground was tainted, so there could be no fires anywhere the dragon had flamed or bled. Not until the ground was purged clean. We’d lit candles just after the battle, and the fires had roared a dozen feet into the sky, consuming the candles and threatening to leap over to unscorched grass.

Not something we wanted to repeat.

I wandered out past the bonfire, along the north edge of the fields, where the valley opened up and the ground fell away, toward a copse of trees I’d visited after the battle. I’d been brutally wounded but was chasing Jean-Paul in his dragon form.

In that copse I’d found the winged horses of the Valkyrie—met Gunnr, the stunningly beautiful and intoxicating warrior woman who made me forget my own name for a moment … but not Katie’s. I smiled at that. A kiss was her price to take her elegant steed Meyja.

She’d told me to call her name and she’d come to me. I could almost smell her for a moment, a shadow of leather and cloves.

I sat on the grass and took out the amulet, turned it over in my hand and watched the valley below slide into shadow. Where are you, Bub? Anezka was crazed, but still he stole her away, to save her, I’m sure.

I hoped she didn’t kill him, or herself. If Qindra could purge the house, maybe Anezka could gain some sort of life back. She
had
been stable. Not normal, but I didn’t have a good barometer for what passed for normal these days. Maybe Qindra was right. I flipped the amulet over, saw that the runes were shadowed in the palm of my hand. I concentrated for a moment, willing the damn thing to chill. I didn’t want it melding with me.

The runes glowed bright for a second, and I felt a flash of heat run up my arm. Then it started to dim back to low glow. My hand was free of marks. I straightened the chain against my leg, stroking the twisted links, letting my mind wander over to the other problem.

Durin’s folk, the mead, the dragons and their need to control the world. And what of the things Qindra had mentioned? Things worse than dragons.

Skella had been scared, but she’d gone with Gletts. Not that he seemed particularly bent one way or another about her. I took it on faith that he loved her, the sibling that she was. But he was wary, wild. There was something about him—a coldness that spoke of pain and fear. They’d grown up under the open aggression of dragons, suffered the demented whims of Jean-Paul and his cronies. The dwarves had helped the elves, sort of. They were only learning now what a deal with the devil that was.

I sat in the clearing, pulled a long blade of grass from the cool earth, and sucked the tender tip. It tasted clean, not like the sour smell that filled my head.

In the distance I heard more people arrive and music start up. I sat there, lost in the peace of the trees, the ocean of darkness that swallowed the valley below.

I’d flown over that valley, felt the brush of the first rays of dawn above the clouds. It had been a moment of freedom amidst the death and chaos of the night’s battle. I yearned for that clarity, that moment of freedom when there was only one path, only one right thing.

I stood, turned from the valley, and looked back at the house. There were my family, my friends, and my lover. That was where I belonged, not out here away from the maelstrom of joy and love.

I let the slip of grass fall from my mouth and crossed back through the trees. I slipped the chain over my head, settling the amulet against my chest. It felt right there, warm and comforting.

Time to join the real world again. Maybe this time to solve a problem, instead of fleeing one.

Fifty-four

As I walked back, music started and the crowd broke into a rowdy cheer. Katie was on the deck singing and playing her guitar, along with a couple of other folks. They were new: one was a young woman with an Autoharp, and the other a young man with a mandolin. Gunther sat on the edge of the stage, and Stuart stood next to the tapped keg with his arms crossed and his eyes sweeping the crowd. He looked vigilant.

I felt my heart soar. The music swelled, and Katie’s voice washed over the crowd:

Blacksmith, warrior, giant-slayer, friend.

Sarah flew across the gray of the dawn

pursuing the bastard Duchamp

carrying the battle to the North.

She’d written a song about me. Was that the surprise she’d promised me? I couldn’t breathe for a moment, overwhelmed with emotion. I didn’t want this, didn’t want to be part of a song or a tale. I just wanted to live my life, protect those I cared for.

The clan clapped and stomped, cheering the musicians on, and Katie’s voice rose, filling the world with her song.

I slowed, afraid to approach the crowd. Maybe Katie thought to draw me back to the fold. That would be like her, the sneak. I smiled and took a deep breath. No use fighting it, I reckoned. She was gonna be who she was, and I had no desire to change her. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

You know the universe listens, right? Like, hey, she’s happy and letting things slide. Let’s kick her in the slats.

That’s what ran through my mind in the next second.

On the other side of the yard, near the burned-out barn, I saw him. The one-eyed bum, Joe or Odin. Who was he tonight? I veered in his direction, the music a happy background, but the world tunneled toward him … only him.

“’Ware, smith,” he said, and vanished.

I spun around, searching. He appeared near Stuart, squatting on the top of the long table with a wolf at his side.

“Folly and peril,” he said.

The song played on in the background, and the crowd was singing along, clapping and stomping. I staggered through them, looking for the mad beggar. “No riddles,” I shouted, and the people nearest me looked at me like I was crazy. They faltered in their revelry and followed me with their eyes, open-jawed and confused.

There near the stage, I saw him again. I began shouting, pushing. The people in front of me started to realize something was going on and began turning, anger and frustration breaking their joyous moment.

He watched me, his arms raised to the heavens, and he sang. I cannot tell you what he sang, but it seemed to be my name, maybe the song that Katie herself sang.

Then he was gone again. I was almost to the stage when he vanished. Had he been a figment of my imagination?

Bam! The power on the farm flashed out. Even the bonfire seemed to fade. The crowd shifted, allowing me to move through. Faces peered at me in wonder and fear.

A wolf leapt onto the stage, larger than a pony. The band didn’t notice, but the crowd saw, faltered in their singing, their voices mingling into shouts and astonished gasps.

“The witch has fallen!” Odin’s great voice issued from the wolf’s throat. “Black blood rises to our doom!”

The voice was so loud that people fell to the ground, covering their heads with their hands. I ran to the house, pushing people out of my way, calling to Katie. The wolf sprang at Katie but vanished before reaching her. She spun around as if sensing the attack. The other band members fled into the crowd, and the noise returned—shouting and screams.

The old man reappeared behind me, on the picnic table.

“More than your love hangs in the balance, smith. Choose wisely.” He crumbled into shadow, and two great crows leapt upward, pulling toward the sky.

Fuck! Odin showing up wasn’t a good sign. Qindra was down? She wasn’t half-bad as a person, but she was damn powerful. What was up with that damn house?

I ran across the barnyard, into the back of the crowd. It was then I finally noticed. Stuart wasn’t lounging—he was on watch. His people were as well. There were warriors posted around the place, armored and armed. The farm had become an encampment. They were not playing games. Nothing was going to catch them by surprise again.

I sprinted past the barn. Stuart was directing two young women, pointing first at me, then at the barn. I couldn’t tell what he was saying, but he didn’t try to stop me.

“Katie?” I called, spinning about. She was nowhere to be seen. For a moment I panicked as chaos reigned. People were shouting, calling to friends and loved ones. Then, Gunther’s strong voice rose above the din, shouting commands. The crowd parted, and I had a clear shot at the house. I leapt up the stairs onto the deck. The band had scattered, the instruments were gone as well. I looked back into the crowd one final time and turned to the house.

The door stood open. Jimmy was waving a flashlight around, swearing. Deidre had been spilled out of her chair. He rushed over and knelt at her side.

She pointed at me, and Jimmy turned, his face flush with anger.

“The elf took her,” he growled.

“Her? Katie?” It couldn’t be happening, not again. “Where?”

I followed where Deidre was pointing at a large hall mirror. “Not Katie, Melanie,” she said, gasping. “She was with me moments before the power went out, just before the voice shook the house.”

“What about Katie?” I asked.

“She was with the band?” Deidre said, confused. “Who’s fallen, Sarah?”

“Damn it, Beauhall,” Jimmy said, his voice a dangerous step away from rage.

“Was it Gletts?” I asked.

They didn’t respond.

“The boy? Was it the boy or the girl?”

“Boy,” Deidre said, pushing herself up on her hands. Jimmy stood quickly, righted the chair, and bent to pick her up. She locked her arms around his neck and he melted a little, letting some of the anger fade.

Once she was settled again, he turned to me. “What do we do now?”

I was torn. Qindra was down, fallen to something or someone at Anezka’s place. That was two hours away, and I owed her. Melanie had been snatched by Gletts. He probably wouldn’t hurt her; he wanted me—or more to the point, he wanted Gram. So why Melanie?

“Where’s Julie?” I asked.

Jimmy did a double-take, shaking his head. “Gone, before the band started up. Why?”

“I need wheels.”

“Take the bike,” Gunther said, coming into the house. Stuart was at his shoulder, holding a bundle.

“You’ll want this,” Stuart said, laying my chain on the kitchen table.

I turned to Jimmy. “Right.” Ducati, armor … and … I looked into his eyes. Time to push him. “I need Gram.”

He started to shake his head, but Deidre placed her hand on his arm. “Don’t be an ass. The sword claimed her.”

“Deidre,” he started, but her look stopped him.

“I don’t care what you and those two have been cooking up. That’s her sword; she remade it and earned it with her blood, if you don’t recall how all this went down.”

He lowered his head, and I could hear his teeth grinding.

“I don’t like it,” he said, but he turned and stalked to the back of the house.

I started to follow, but Deidre held up her hand. “Just hang tight. He’ll bring it.”

One of Stuart’s crew came in with my harness, and Kyle George handed me a holster with two hammers in it. The handle of one was stained dark. I had used it in the spring. The second was new, but a sister to the first.

“Thanks, Kyle.”

He nodded, blushing. “Owe you for saving my life.”

What do you say to that? Obligation, debt? Or just accept it as gratitude.

“Anytime.” I held out my hand, and he grasped my wrist, shaking solemnly.

“You seen Katie?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “No, but I’ll go look.”

“Thanks.”

I watched him push back out of the house. The squads were preparing, and the support staff was getting things in order. Battle lines, triage center, et cetera. Been a busy summer here. I turned to the task at hand.