The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (26 page)

He stared back until she released him and wordlessly walked away. The celebration continued in the middle of the ship. It seemed a world away. Turning back to face the unending blue, he knew he was alone. He leaned out over the edge.

How many lives could be saved if I jumped?
He had suppressed it for so long, but killing the deckhand served as a haunting reminder of his failure. People didn’t change. He lifted one hand and stretched it into the empty air. Leaning forward a bit more, he extended the other. A little farther would tip the balance. Was it truly that easy? He closed his eyes and shifted his weight, daring fate.

He felt the end approaching when he heard her. He’d have fallen otherwise.

I need you…

Chapter Twenty-Nine

YOU SHOULD BE resting, Jaydan, my friend.

“You’re not my father,” he said to the empty room, not looking up from the spread of herbs laid out before him.

The ship shifted and he nearly dropped the imp-root into the mixer of fetylia broth. He cursed but held steady, waiting for the floor to level out again.

Easy now. A wrong move could send this ship up in flames.

“You say that like you care.”

Self-preservation, I assure you, my friend. Though I am amused by your constant efforts to… well, whatever it is you are striving for. Who knows? You may just live long enough to see the fruits of your labor.

Jaydan transferred a pinch of dried moss to the broth and stirred it with a stick of cinnamon. It dissolved after five revolutions, and he dropped in the remainder. He sat back, allowing the mixture to steep properly. He rubbed his eyes. He
was
tired, but without night, it felt strange to try to sleep. And he had slept enough over the past few days. And mourned more than he thought healthy. It hadn’t changed anything.

“They’d want me to grow stronger,” he whispered to himself.

Oh, I don’t think they care much. They’re dead.

“If you’re trying to piss me off, you’re wasting your time.”

No matter, I have plenty. Much more than you, I imagine. I just love to see your hackles up. Gives me shivers of my own.

Jaydan scanned the room, seeing exactly what he expected. Nothing. “Just because my father claimed to know you doesn’t mean that you’re real. Madness tends to run in families. Something bad in our blood, no doubt.”

Well, I can’t say whether your father was mad or not. Admittedly, I spent little time with the man after I got what I needed. But I assure you I am just as real as you, for what it’s worth.

Jaydan poured the potion into a clay vial and stoppered it. He slipped it into one of his pockets and stood, arms outstretched. “Well, let’s have a look at you then, if you exist anywhere other than my mind.”

Rhadiourgia laughed.
Brave little Jaydan, so grown. I’m afraid my true form would unnerve you more than could be enjoyed. No, I like this far more. It gives the illusion of dangerous mystery. Am I man or am I beast? Something even more majestic?

Jaydan sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. It was just as he expected. The disembodied voice was little more than a side effect of the countless things Jaydan had attempted in the world of alchemy and magic. He was genuinely surprised he hadn’t killed himself yet. He studied his hands and pulled at the thread of magic that swirled haphazardly through the air. It entered his being like a breath. His mind sharpened and the fatigue vanished.

He directed the energy toward his fingertips and let it pulse there. A snap of lightning arced between his forefinger and thumb. He pulled in more magic. A shock went up his spine, causing him to double over in pain. He released the magic and sat up, examining his hand. No burns or other obvious injury. He punched the bed at his side. He had done it that night in Woodhaerst and again when the shadow creatures first attacked in Paladrix. Why couldn’t he summon that power now? How could he protect anyone if he didn’t find that power again and strengthen it further?

He stood and began pacing.

I don’t like that look.

He ignored the voice, turning tight circles in the cramped space. He stopped and pulled out a small burlap bundle and held it up to the light streaming through the small porthole.

Right, because that worked so well last time.

Jaydan snarled. The creatures at Paladrix were similar, but different than the small dragons in Woodhaerst. It stood to reason that the residue he had gathered from the ash of the first battle would elicit similar, but slightly different properties. And hopefully in a way that didn’t include hanging from a door by his shoulder socket. If he could just channel more magic... More energy and power. Or create a more concentrated mix…

He was deciding on the proper ratio of hogroot to dragonsbane when he heard a deafening roar from beyond the small window that chilled his blood. He dropped the bundle, permutations forgotten, and ran for the door. He stood in the narrow walkway in the bottom of the ship, listening. Another roar shook every fiber of man and ship alike. The doors on either side of his burst open. Alexander came out, fully dressed, glaive in hand, eyes wild and searching. Sachihiro stumbled out, tripped, and fell into the opposite wall. He wore only boots and his undergarments. He steadied himself and fastened his sword around his waist. His eyes were bleary, but widened as another roar shook the air.

“Where’s Addy?” Alexander demanded, shouldering open the next room and finding it empty.

Jaydan shook his head and tossed Sachihiro the potion he had finished just moments before. Sachihiro held it up in a salute and quickly downed it, grimacing.

“Sorry,” Jaydan said. “Didn’t have a chance to fully cool. Thought I’d have till morning to fix your hangover.”

Sachihiro shook his head and slapped his cheek, a mask of clarity replacing the previous one of drunken stupor.

“Where’s Addy?” Alexander repeated, whipping around, weapon ready.

Jaydan wondered if he’d catch the long blade if he answered incorrectly. There was a fierce gleam in Alexander’s eyes. The sound echoed again.

“Is that what I think it is?” Sachihiro asked.

Jaydan nodded, thinking the same. Alexander was already moving for the stairs, quickly disappearing. Jaydan and Sachihiro followed.

Jaydan burst onto the middle deck, drawing in magic and searching for the enemy, but was greeted with only white mist. They were in the middle of a cloud. The roar was louder above board and it sounded like the ship was heading right for it. The idea of fighting blind unsettled him, but he was beyond giving in to fear.

Through the cloud, Jaydan could see shapes crowded at the front of the ship. He waved at Alexander and Sachihiro, and together they sprinted toward the sound.

Lilacoris stood at the bow, her arms wrapped tightly around Adelaide, who stood atop the railing. Erlen stood on top of her head. The strange trio was surrounded by what looked like most of the crew. Jaydan couldn’t see Tannyl.

They shouldered past the elves to the High Watcher. Jaydan could see wild panic in Alexander’s eyes as he reached for Adelaide. She looked at them and smiled, pushing Alexander’s arms away.

“We’re almost there!” she said excitedly.

“Addy, come down from there,” Alexander said.

“Why are you all standing here?” Sachihiro shouted. “The dragon is getting closer.”

Jaydan hadn’t wanted to say the word. It made the threat feel real. And though he wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t strong enough to face such a danger. Not yet.

Adelaide giggled and a few crew members stifled laughs.

Lilacoris turned to them. “There is nothing to fear, travelers. That is merely Gaia’s greeting to her children. It lets the whole of the Realm know we have returned. It is a cry of celebration.”

“Gaia?” Jaydan asked, both relieved and confused.

Just as he spoke, the ship emerged from the cloud, revealing the full splendor of the Fae sky. Jaydan felt his mouth fall open, and he couldn’t find the motivation to close it again. Sachihiro cursed, and Alexander fell against Lilacoris and Adelaide, clinging to both to keep from hitting the deck.

“That,” Lilacoris said, “is Gaia. Home.”

Still miles ahead of the ship, floating in the bright blue sky, was a turtle with a world upon its back. Its hooked beak split in another cry and its mighty flippers slowly beat at the clouds that surrounded it. The crew members cheered.

“She’s soooo pretty,” Adelaide said, gaping.

“Yes, she is,” Lilacoris said. “Would you like to meet her?”

Adelaide nodded vigorously.

“Me too,” Sachihiro shouted, suddenly seeming like a child himself. “Me too.” The squirrel on his shoulder made him look even more ridiculous.

“That’s amazing,” Alexander added.

Jaydan moved his mouth, but nothing came from it. Everything about the Fae Wyld burned with vibrant magic like nothing he had ever seen, but Gaia…

“It’s a flying snapper,” he said. “Your Realm is on a giant, flying snapping turtle.”

“Yes, it is,” Lilacoris said. She turned and smiled at him. “You can meet her, too.”

His voice failed again, so he nodded and knew immediately it had been with the same vigor as the eight-year-old girl standing between the Dryad’s arms.

Chapter Thirty

ADELAIDE SKIPPED THE last two rungs on the rope ladder, much to Alexander’s dismay. She landed in a crouch and immediately went to her stomach, ear and hands pressed tight to the stony ground. Tiny vibrations shook through her tiny body and she squealed in the most undignified manner.

“I can hear her breathe,” she said.

“Are we truly standing on her head?” she heard Sachihiro ask.

Lilacoris laughed. Adelaide liked the sound of it. It was warm and caring, not unlike Miss Hastings’s. “You need not step so daintily. If Gaia can shoulder a world, I daresay she won’t be bothered by your feet.”

Adelaide ran her hands along the tough ground. It was smooth like stone, but warm like fresh bread. Her eyes ran along the surface, following the gentle curve of the enormous beak until it vanished at the horizon. She shifted to look in the opposite direction and saw the same. Gaia was beyond enormous. The great turtle had ceased shouting its welcome to the ship when they drew near. Which was wise, Adelaide realized, now that she knew the size of it. The whole of the Empire could fit on just the top of her head, she figured.

“All right,” she said, finally sitting up. “
This
is now my favorite place in either world!”

She reached down and tore off her boots, tossing them aside and standing. She wiggled her toes against Gaia’s warm beak and clapped her hands. She twirled around, wishing she were wearing her dress.

“Does she do any tricks?” Sachihiro asked.

Adelaide saw Jaydan roll his eyes. Alexander looked unwilling to move, still rooted below the swinging ladder. He was in a partial crouch, arms extended, like he was worried about falling. Falling where, Adelaide couldn’t imagine.

“It’s not a pet,” Jaydan said. He was holding a glass tube and a small metal stick. “It’s a world. Show some respect.”

Lilacoris smiled in the way Miss Hastings did when Adelaide would ask her to play another game of jacks before bed. The Dryad knelt and placed her hand that was like a tree branch on Gaia’s beak.

Suddenly the ground shifted dramatically. Adelaide felt the move coming and kept her footing, but Alexander, Jaydan, and Sachihiro were sent sprawling. Adelaide clapped her hands and danced over to Alexander. She grabbed his shaking hands and pulled him upright. She patted his arm reassuringly and danced off to help the others. Somewhere, hidden from eyes, she heard Erlen laugh.

“Gaia listens to you, doesn’t she, Lil’coris?” Adelaide asked, gliding to the High Watcher with a series of spins.

“She responds to my emotions, yes.”

“Can I try?”

Lilacoris placed a hand on her shoulder in the same way Miss Hastings would when she didn’t want to play jacks. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said. “She’ll only respond to Hilaros and I. Though she will act on her own if the mood suits her.”

Adelaide tried to hide her disappointment. She didn’t feel like twirling about anymore, so she sat, pouting. As she did, something pulled at her mind. It was like when Lilacoris had tried to get into her secret room, but it wasn’t the High Watcher. Adelaide had seen to it that she couldn’t get in. She wasn’t worried, though. It felt… friendly. Warm. Her eyes lit up and she thrust her open hands against Gaia.

“Go on, girl,” she whispered to her chest. “Dance with me.”

The ground shook. First to one side, then to the other. It was far gentler than before. No one fell. Adelaide leapt up and lunged for Alexander, grabbing his hands before he could resist.

“Come on, Alexander,” she said, pulling the lanky man into a wide spin. “Dance with us.”

Gaia shifted below their feet, in time with every wild dance step Adelaide took. Beneath them, the great beast let out a low moan. Adelaide mimicked the noise, though higher in pitch. Gaia followed with a different note. Adelaide spun under Alexander’s arm, jumped, and matched it. Soon, Gaia and Adelaide were singing as well as dancing. There were no words to the song they sang, just dulcet tones, melding from one into another like a breeze.