The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (16 page)

Well, would you look at that? Now that’s a fine trick.

But it wasn’t a trick. Jaydan ran to the desk and brought his hand to one of the bronze candle-holders there. He watched carefully as his fingers again shifted to an inky mist just as they encountered the metal. It didn’t feel any different. Even as he turned his senses to the magic, he couldn’t detect anything.

Perhaps you’re hallucinating. I told you not to drink it. But you never do listen to Rhadiourgia, do you? Just a voice in your head.

Jaydan’s eyes roved around the room and his mind went through an exhausting number of thoughts, ideas, and permutations. It all stopped as his eyes went to the sturdy wooden door. He looked at his hand and raced to the door, only slowing as he held out his hand to it. It met the wood and faded into the ethereal. He pushed forward up to the wrist. Then to his elbow. His heart was thundering against his ribs, threatening to rip free.

“I hope you’re watching closely,
Rhadi
,” he said as he took an aggressive step forward.

His arm slid through the door as if it didn’t exist, but that changed as he tried to push his shoulder through the space. His advance was halted, and at once he knew he had gone too far. He tried to pull back, but couldn’t. He curled his arm and felt it meet the opposite side of the door. It felt terrifyingly solid.

Shall I pretend to be surprised? Perhaps gasp loudly and exclaim that I can’t believe this happened?

Jaydan wrenched at the door. His arm didn’t budge. He freed the metal clasp and eased the door open, leaning to the side to get a better look. He peered around the edge of the door and found himself staring at his right arm sprouting from the wood. He wiggled his fingers and felt nausea come in like the tide, washing over him.

Down the hall, another door opened. Fear seized the previously confident man and he pushed into the door, shutting it.

Oh, well thought out, Jaydan. No way will anyone find an arm hanging from a door strange in any way. Another brilliant idea from Jaydan Healer.

“Shhh, I’m thinking.” He let his arm hang still, as if he thought it’d lessen the chance of being noticed.

He shut his eyes and rested his forehead against the door. Then something grabbed his hand. The one that was jutting into the hallway. The hand was small and soft. It squeezed his hand and firmly shook it. Then he heard a giggle.

Sweet Mother, it’s Addy,
he thought. He pulled frantically at the door and found he had forgotten to latch it. His feet twisted together as he pulled the door into himself. Jaydan stumbled and would have fallen, saved only by his entombed arm that held him suspended.

A head shrouded in red hair poked into the room. Adelaide looked Jaydan up and down, and giggled again.

He found his feet and managed to stand, the door half open, Adelaide standing in the gap.

“Neat,” she said as she entered.

She was still wearing her new dress and spun in a tight circle as she danced into the middle of the room. Jaydan wasn’t sure if he should shut the door again, so he just stood rooted in place, trying hard not to blush. His mouth was numb.

Oh, I don’t know, Jaydan. Maybe she didn’t notice. Just don’t move and she won’t know you’re even there.

The young girl skipped over to the balcony, leaned out over the edge, and then spun back into the room. “There’s no night here,” she said.

Jaydan just shook his head.

Adelaide glided to his bed and leapt atop it. She began bouncing, simply at first, then adding in a full spin at the peak of each jump, her dress trailing around her.

“Uh, Addy,” Jaydan said. “This isn’t the best time…”

“What? You’re not using the bed right now, are you? No, you’re not. So I’m bouncing. Miss Hastings always said it was good to run around before bed, to burn up energy and make yourself tired. But I don’t like running, so I jump. Watch this.”

She shot straight up and then tucked into a smooth front flip, landing perfectly, and spinning like a top on the subsequent bounce. She bounced once more and let herself fall into a seated position. Her face was flushed and her breathing heavy. She scooted off the bed and walked toward Jaydan. He held his breath.

“You look busy. I’m going to go find Alexander. You think he’d tuck me in?”

Jaydan didn’t answer and found himself shuffling backwards, to open the door more fully for her. She gave a shallow curtsy and skipped down the hallway.

Jaydan was stupefied, allowing his full weight to rest on his entombed shoulder. Suddenly he felt so weary. The nausea had faded, but an inescapable exhaustion replaced it. His eyes drooped low and his thoughts ground to a halt.

Oh, sure, just take a quick nap, Jaydan. This is the perfect time for that.

Jaydan waved a dismissive hand at the voice. Or at least he thought he had. He couldn’t be certain, for in another breath, his world faded to black.

Chapter Seventeen

MAIRA HATED BEING among the Shadows. It was so dreadfully dull and depressing. Wisps of lost souls and incorporeal bodies floated aimlessly around the inky darkness. Some possessed parts of the bodies they had left behind, while others were completely ethereal, little more than vapor. She walked confidently among them, pushing aside those solid enough to move and walking through those that were not.

She found Vyncis where she expected him to be, sitting behind his over-sized desk of black glass and jagged gemstones. It was gaudy and served little purpose but to bolster the man’s ego. No doubt he was severely lacking in other areas of size and might. It crossed her mind to find out, but quickly she banished the thought. Now was not the time.

He looked up as she glided up to the desk, slid smoothly atop it, and stretched out her long figure, lying her head on a reaching arm. She smiled coyly and grabbed at his chin. He stared deep into her eyes, mesmerized in an instant. Vyncis was His loyal lapdog and needed no persuasion to do his job, but Maira found it hard not to toy with the man. Even in death, she could see his body respond as it had in life.

“Vyncis, my dear, it is nearly time. Are your lovely spawn prepared?”

He drank in her sweet tone and let out an involuntary moan, shifting in his chair. His eyes darted away from her and his hand raked at his beard. “Uh, yes, your majesty, of course. As soon as, uh, the way is open…”

“Darling, dispel that formal talk. I may be your Queen now, but I am still just a woman. I have needs just like any other.” She sat up and swung her legs around until her feet rested on the armrests of his chair and her knees were at his ears. The long slit in her dress spread and pushed the garment to her waist.

His eyes looked at her womanhood for a long moment, his mouth slightly agape. She purred softly and brought her mouth close to his, breathing hotly on his lips. Her hands found his breastplate. She ran her nails along the enameled silver. He shifted again, but didn’t pull away.

“Good,” she said softly. “I have one more task for you, dear Vyncis…”

He nodded slowly, eyes locked on hers. She could sense his hands moving forward, grasping at the air, seeking what she held between her thighs. She swallowed a flare of rage and let her lips brush his.

“The way will open at the giant’s arrival. You will send forth every ounce of Shadow that can squeeze into the breach, but you must bar entry to the giant’s shadow as it comes to you. Turn him away at the gate and send him back.”

Vyncis nodded again and licked his lips. She knew he didn’t understand any of what she had just told him, but she also knew that he would follow the order regardless. Her sweet husband wanted only to toy with the Chosen and frighten the Fae. But if she could arrest the giant’s passing before it completed the transition… well, she knew all too well what that did to the mind. It should make for a lovely surprise for His precious Chosen. The sooner they were killed, the sooner destruction could be assured. Why He permitted their existence was beyond even her comprehension, but it reeked of foolish arrogance. He would not rob her of her vengeance.

She felt thick fingers grope at her inner thigh, snapping her from the brief reverie. Her fingers twisted into vicious black claws and she pressed them against the Emperor’s throat. Her eyes narrowed and she felt her mouth fill with jagged fangs.

She hissed and pushed his chin toward the ceiling, exposing his throat. The man swallowed deeply.

“Do not disappoint me, Vyncis. There is nothing I loathe more than an incompetent man. You’re not incompetent, are you, Vyncis?”

He shook his head, but it hardly moved in her tight grasp.

“Good,” she said, releasing him and gracefully spinning off the desk.

She turned and strutted out of the room.

“I’ll be sure that giant’s twisted soul remains where it falls,” Vyncis shouted after her. “After what is done to him, his mind will become a true terror come to life.”

Maira paused and almost glanced back at the man. It seemed he wasn’t quite as dull as she assumed. There were more important tasks to tend to, but she would need to change that when she had the chance.

Chapter Eighteen

“ALL RIGHT, ERLEN, that’s enough for now,” Sachihiro said, holding up his hands. The thick callouses across his fingertips were beginning to crack and bleed.

“Just one more, song singer of the superbly superb songs. I rather liked that last one. What was it?”

Sachihiro beamed at the wordy compliment and thought for a moment to take up his lute again and launch into another bawdy shanty, but it would do no good to ruin his fingers simply to please the sprite. “‘Bertha’s Bags,’” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “It was my uncle’s favorite. Claimed he wrote it after his third wife.”

Erlen somersaulted in the air and came to a rest on the bedpost nearest Sachihiro. “I once tamed a dragon that had a wife with three heads. The words that wafted from that wonderfully wasted wench you’d wonder weren’t worn out when I walloped them off. Woe was I! But more woe was her!”

“You know, I don’t understand half of what you say, but you sure have a way of lightening the mood.”

Erlen snapped to his feet and bowed with a flourish of his wooden sword. “It is my pleasure, Sir Sachihiro, but what need is there of lightening the mood? I’ve never known any mood but one.” He stuck out his chin and grinned so wide it looked like the rest of his face had disappeared.

Sachihiro couldn’t smile back. Instead, he found his eyes and fingers tracing the intricate runes along the lacquered body of his uncle’s lute. “Sorry, Erlen, but after what happened to my uncle…”

“Oh, yes, that bit of bad luck.”

“I always wanted to be like him. Saw the world, the whole thing, he said. And had the stories and songs to prove it. He spent a summer with the orcs, and taught music at the Civil Academy, wherever that is. Nearly drowned in the Sea of Heroes, taught a dwarf to jig, and had a pet cobra.”

“I can teach you to jig,” Erlen said, alighting on the neck of the lute and sketching out a few quick dance steps.

Sachihiro shook the instrument, forcing the sprite to dart back to the bedpost. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying my uncle got to scour the whole of Alfuria for the best songs, and he combed every tavern for the most elusive secrets. I’ve never even been out of the Great Forest. I hardly ever leave Woodhaerst.”

“You’re certainly not in Woodhaerst anymore. For this is Paladrix, capital of the Fae Wyld, island of mysticism and wonder!” Erlen began whistling and spinning about like a top.

Sachihiro had to laugh. It was forced at first, but grew genuine as the diminutive Fae creature tumbled off his perch and nearly hit the ground before getting his wings moving.

“I’ll just have to show you my home,” Erlen said, flitting to eye level. “There is no more grand a locale in all the Realms as the sprite home of Dragonslandburgiadomton.”

“Dragonsland-whatsit?”

“Just so,” Erlen said. He twirled his sword and did a backflip.

Sachihiro shook his head. “Well, whatever it’s called, I’d love to see your home. Maybe watch you in action.”

Erlen froze and his eyes widened. “Oh yes! The most excellent of excellently excellent ideas! I shall gather an entire horde of dragons before you, watch you squirm with fear, and then… tame them! With alacrity and guile and deft swordsmanship!”

“That’ll make a great song.”

“Especially the part where I tame them!”

“Of course.”

Erlen sheathed his sword with his usual flourish and darted down to the body of the lute. “Now, what’s so special about this thing? It carries a tune, I suppose, but it’s no dragondrum.” He bent and rapped on the wood with his knuckles.

Sachihiro looked back over the runes and felt his mood slide into a darker place again. He traced a jagged symbol with his finger. It felt warmer than the surrounding wood. “Jaydan says runes let a man better channel magic that his body and mind couldn’t handle on their own. Uncle used to weave some wicked charms and illusions.”

“And you?”