The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (35 page)

“I’ve made peace with my failures. Have you?”

“You think coming here to lay down your life will redeem you? You are forever cursed. In life and in death.”

“I can’t argue with that. I’ve done enough evil in one life to be cursed a hundred times over, but Fae’Na was not one of those evils. If there is any redemption for me, it is her.”

“
Fae’Na,
” she said, like the name bit at her tongue on the way out. “Literally,
Not Fae.
A name that would suit you as well.”

“It is one I’d gladly assume,” he said.

“To be named Fae’Na was once a great honor, before you sullied it and broke tradition.”

Tannyl’s tenuous grasp on his anger wavered. “Tradition? You would slaughter your own daughter and call it honor? It’s naïve cowardice at best.” He spat on the dry tinder. “And for what? Because you convinced yourself it would please the
gods?
” He strained against his bindings. “My only regret is that I didn’t finish what I began the night I took… no,
saved
Fae’Na from this cursed place.”

The old elven woman stared back, her expression seemingly carved from wood. She shifted the torch and reached into a pocket of her robes. She drew out her hand and held it to the torchlight. Two identical seeds danced under the flickering light.

She smiled. “You thought to rest at her side.” It wasn’t a question. “Sadly, that just won’t do.” With a flick of her wrist, the seeds leapt from her hand and disappeared into the pile of dry kindling.

Tannyl closed his eyes, gathering his rage.

“You and your new toy will burn. In the very spot that you took so many innocent lives, yours will end. In the place you stole
my daughter, I will take your whore. And neither you nor Fae’Na will reach the glory of the Garden.”

Tannyl readied every muscle in his body. The moment was drawing near, but a hand on his froze him.

“I can kill her, Tannyl,” Maira said, her voice a whisper. “I can kill them all. For you. For us.”

He twisted his hands, grasping for hers. Their fingers intertwined and he felt the coarse rope at her wrists. It was too loose to actually bind her. She had already freed herself. What was she waiting for?

The Ancient looked on, savoring the moment, but eventually the torch would drop and he would be consumed.

Command me, Tannyl, my love.

That’s what she was waiting for. His permission. His eyes locked on the Druid he had once loved and then dropped to the place the seeds had fallen.
No,
he thought.
I didn’t come here just to die.

“Maira,” he said, voice steeled and even. There would be no pleasure in it.

The Ancient tilted her head in an amused way. She was expecting a tearful goodbye. She hungered for it.

“Yes, my love?” Maira asked. The edge to her voice had returned.

“Kill her.”

Maira dropped from the thick stake and landed in a crouch. She turned to the Ancient. Old and wrinkled, the elf still pulsed with vibrant life. The mere thought of consuming it banished her memories to the shadows of her mind. The hunger filled the void.

Her sudden movement startled the old elf, and Maira was upon her in an instant. Desperation fueled her strike, and the weathered neck disintegrated before her fingers. Life and blood exploded from the corpse. It was like being struck by lightning. Such power in one so unassuming. She stood and let out a deep sigh.

She went to Tannyl. His eyes were hard, but it was obvious her appearance disturbed the elf. She nimbly scaled the pile of dried wood and cradled his face between her blood-soaked hands. He pulled away at first, but she held him fast.

“They’re gone. The memories. Gone,” she said, lacing her words with the essence of her sex. “I told you we were destined to be as one, Tannyl. You must see now how powerful we could be.”

She could feel him try to resist her, but she was too strong so near a fresh kill. She probed deeper, gently drawing him to her. His mind was a torrid mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions, but to Maira it was beautiful.

“We’re two of a kind, my love,” she said. “Let me show you.”

She released him and leapt to the ground.

“Maira,” he called out. “Cut me down. It’s done. You got what you wanted.”

She whirled on him. “Yes, but now it is time that you received what
you
desire.”

He was in her mind just as much as she was in his, and she sensed his realization before she even turned to pursue the nearest Druid.

“No,” he shouted as she began to run. “Leave the others! I don’t want this!”

She ignored him and twisted her hands into vicious claws. Thick spines erupted from her flesh, and her talons tore at the ground with terrifying speed.

“Maira!” he continued to shout. “Maira!”

I know what you want,
she thought as she cut apart the first Druid. She was slicing at the second before the first had fallen.
We are the same, you and I, and we will watch the world burn together.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

THE ROOTS TORE free of his skin with a horrific spray of gore and green tendrils. Alexander tossed it aside and looked as if he were going to be sick. Immediately, Jaydan felt a rush of energy as his body and mind were once again open to magic. It was like meeting an old friend or slipping into a familiar bed. The bleeding from his chest stopped just after he drew in the magic like a breath. Basic healing was second nature to him, and going a day without it had been too long. It would take more time to properly recover, but that would have to wait.

He struggled to his feet, leaning on Alexander just as the taller man leaned on him. Sachihiro was diving and rolling about the elven guardsmen, goading them and striking when he could. He wore a shirt of blood, and every strike was slower than the last. Jaydan smiled at his friend. If there was one thing the man could do better than carry a tune, it was take a beating.

“Sach!” he shouted, drawing in a deep breath of magic and channeling it to the end of his fingers. It seemed so simple now.

The bloodied brawler narrowly avoided a spear thrust and glanced at Jaydan. Jaydan smiled and nodded, thrusting his clawed hand at him. “Duck!”

Sachihiro hit the ground just as a gout of flames burst from each of Jaydan’s fingers. The magic rushed through him like a torrent. His limbs shook and his vision blurred, but he continued to channel until Alexander roughly shook him.

The air smelled of burned flesh and ash. The elves lay scattered about, noxious smoke rising from each of the charred bodies. Jaydan pumped a fist and tried to go to Sachihiro, but his knees gave out and he fell solidly to the floor.

When he opened his eyes, both Sachihiro and Alexander had him by the shoulders and were lifting him to his feet. He found his footing and shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. He looked his body over and gave a few cursory pats. He should have been dead, but other than feeling a bit lightheaded, he felt fine. Well,
fine
wasn’t the right word, but he was alive, and that was victory enough.

Sachihiro patted him stiffly on the back and the three limped to the large set of doors, careful to skirt around the smoldering corpses. Before opening the door, Sachihiro held up a finger and limped back to one of the bodies. He returned with a spear and a dagger. He handed the spear to Alexander. He then pointed to his lips and waved the dagger at Jaydan.

“Oh, I don’t know, Sach,” he said. “I kind of like you like this. Much more peaceful.”

Sachihiro scowled and pressed a hand to the door, preventing the others from opening it. Blood still dripped from the spot where his finger had been.

“All right,” Jaydan said, accepting the dagger. “Now, hold still. It’d be a shame if I slipped and ruined that pretty face.”

In quick order, Jaydan cut the threads holding Sachihiro’s lips together and pulled out the stitching. Sachihiro grunted with each tug, but held firm. Sachihiro slowly massaged his jaw and moved his lips.

“Oh, that’s so much better,” he said, lisping slightly. “I’ve never gone so long without speaking. If anything was going to kill me, it was having to stay silent while that walking tree sassed us.”

Jaydan clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re never silent for long.”

Sachihiro smiled and a thin line of blood ran down from the corner of his mouth. “What say we get out of here and go find Addy?”

Jaydan nodded, and together the three bloodied men tugged open the massive timber doors.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sachihiro said once they swung them wide enough to step through.

“Shit,” Jaydan said.

A long hallway stretched out before them, and a hundred feet away stood a pack of wolves far larger in number than they had been before. They snarled and turned as a single unit. Even at that distance, Jaydan could see swirls of black mist rising from their sunken eyes.

Forgot about the wolves, didn’t you, Jaydan? Seems the Shadowed didn’t.

Jaydan cursed again.

“Doors. Shut. Now,” Sachihiro said, already closing one.

Jaydan and Alexander closed the other. A moment later a dozen bodies impacted the other side. Claws scratched and teeth gnashed. The doors shook with each impact. The only thing keeping the doors shut was the weight of the timber and the three bodies leaned up against them.

“What now?” Alexander asked.

“How much more you think you can channel before…”

Jaydan looked at Sachihiro and shook his head. He could barely stand as it was. “Not much, if any,” he said. “But I’ll try.”

“Then we fight,” Sachihiro said.

And die,
Rhadiourgia added for Jaydan’s benefit.

“Maybe we can find the secret door if we look again,” Alexander suggested, though the tone in his voice said not even he believed it.

“Don’t think we have enough time to figure out how it opens,” Jaydan said. The doors shook again and nearly jolted Jaydan off balance.

Oh, Jaydan, surely you’ll find a way. As powerful as you are, you must have a trick up your sleeve. Or in your pocket…

“I don’t have time for this,” Jaydan whispered to his chest, but then his hand went to one of the pockets in his vest. The elves had cleared out nearly everything he had been carrying, even his morning tea leaves, but one pocket remained undisturbed. It held the bone die, his father’s letter, and one more item he had kept hidden.

“I may have an idea…” he said slowly.

“What is it?” Alexander asked.

“I’d really rather not say.”

“Well, will it work?” Sachihiro asked.

Jaydan shrugged.

“Well, that’s good enough for me,” Sachihiro said.

Alexander held up his hand, but then quickly placed it back on the door as it shuddered against their backs. He looked like he wanted to disagree, but remained silent.

“Don’t worry, Alexander,” Sachihiro said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that being
with
Jaydan’s plan is always better than being
against
Jaydan’s plan.”

Alexander eyed the door and nodded at Jaydan. “What do we do?”

Jaydan withdrew the small pouch of black ash and dumped the full contents into his mouth. It was dry and acrid, but he managed to swallow it down. He took Alexander’s hand in his left and Sachihiro’s in his right. He began pulling magic into his body and letting it diffuse into theirs.

“On the count of three,” he said. “We run for the hidden door.”

“That’s the plan?” Alexander asked.

“Yes. And don’t stop until we’re past it.”

Sachihiro laughed and squeezed Alexander’s hand. Alexander did the same, but a different emotion radiated from him.

“One.”

So this is what you’re going with?

“Two.”

You better be sure, because I’m not.

“Three.”

Confession time, Jaydan. I was just joking. This is, by far, your worst idea. You’re definitely going to die.

Jaydan ignored the words and lunged from the door, running as best he could. With every disjointed step and crippled hop they took, Jaydan pulled more magic into his body. Halfway across the room, the doors exploded inward and dozens of clawed paws pounded along the floor. There was no reason to look back.

A dozen strides from the wall.

Jaydan could sense the wolves had already eaten up most of the distance between them. He channeled even more and turned his mind to the vast complexity of magic that worked within the three of them. He had never tested what he was about to attempt. He had never even tried to control the magic in another’s body, though he had often wondered about the possibility. Think, plan, test, retest. That was how he did things. Not like this.

“Jaydan,” Alexander said shakily.