by Nesa Miller
Dylan returned, a large red wagon rattling along behind him. Inferno got to his feet, took a deep breath, and lifted the dog, which weighed at least one hundred and fifty pounds, into the wagon.
“Da?”
Inferno wiped his sleeve across his forehead. “Aye?”
“Where’s Ruby?”
Tegan whimpered at the reminder of the russet dog. “Wuby...”
He considered his two youngest. Their sweet faces, so innocent and trusting, twisted his heart with an almost unbearable pain. He feared the worst, but until Zorn woke and told them what happened, all he could do was hope she would show up soon. Inferno peered out toward the estuary.
“She’s out there somewhere, Dyls, watching out for us. She’ll come home when she’s ready.” He crouched and hugged his children to him. “What’s say we get Felix fixed up whilst we wait?”
“Okay,” Dylan pushed away, trying to be the big boy.
Tegan smiled. “Make him hansome for Wuby, Da.”
“Aye, cariad. We’ll make him handsome for our Ruby.”
Hours later, Swee stopped by Zorn’s room for another check. She smiled at finding Inferno next to the bed, a bandaged Felix at his feet. The hound raised his head at her entry, snorted, then returned to his dozing. “Good to see you, too, Felix,” she said, good-heartedly.
“Never mind the wee devil. He’s not been himself since he’s come back.”
She bustled to the bed. “None of us have. Is he healing okay?” she asked, pointing to the dog, then checked Zorn’s vital signs. Pulse was steady. Pupils looked good. Lungs sounded clear.
“Aye.” Inferno patted Felix on the head. “He’s a good boy, doing what he should…getting well and watching over Zornie. Wish he could tell us something about Ruby, though.”
At the mention of the female hound’s name, Zorn’s eyes fluttered open.
“Zorn?” Swee touched his forehead. “Zorn, can you hear me?”
Inferno leaned over the young man. “Zornie, lad, can ya talk to us? Do ya remember anything?”
Zorn looked from the woman to the man and back to the woman. “Ruby...” His gaze slid back to Inferno. Tears formed and slipped from the corners of his eyes.
Swee held his hand in hers. “It’s okay, Zorn. You’re safe. You’re home.”
“Aye, boy. Felix is here. He hasn’t left yer side. Do ya know-”
“Red.”
Inferno shared a look of uncertainty with Swee. “Aye, me Ruby is red. Do ya know-”
“No.” He shook his head slightly, his sights on another place. “Him...”
Inferno and Swee turned their heads to the door, expecting to see another visitor.
“Him?” Inferno echoed.
“Do you mean the man from the wedding?” Swee asked, unsure of what prompted her to think of him. Probably because the last she saw, Zorn was chasing the man who attacked her.
“What man?” Inferno looked thoroughly confused.
“I’ll explain later,” she muttered out of the side of her mouth. “He definitely wasn’t red.”
Terror filled the young man’s eyes as he squeezed her hand. “He…burned...” His breathing became erratic, beads of sweat covering his forehead and upper lip.
“Inferno, try to keep him still. It won’t do him any good to rip his stitches. I have something that will help him sleep.”
Swee dashed out of the room and returned within moments, a small vial in her hand. “Zorn…” Her voice was soft and melodic, “I need you to drink this down, okay?” The cork squeaked as she worked it from the neck of the bottle. Zorn struggled against his captors, a wild look in his eyes. “You…have…to…rest…” With one hand on his forehead, she brought the vial to his lips, “Dammit…Zorn. Stop…fighting…us.”
Felix raised his head and whined, his blue eyes shifting from Inferno to Swee.
“Felix.” Inferno clicked his tongue. “Up on the bed. There’s a good boy. Lie down.” The hound gave him a wary eye. “Don’t ya worry, laddie. Go on. Lie down. That’s it. Right across like that. Good boy.” Inferno looked over at a doubtful Swee. “Making use of all our resources, lass.” He freed up one hand and slapped it over Zorn’s forehead, holding him down. “Slip that wee bottle between his lips before he gets a fresh wind.”
Pinching Zorn’s nose closed, she shoved the vial between his lips, held it steady through the indignant convulsions, and didn’t let go until he swallowed. The young man was asleep within seconds.
Swee stepped back with a loud sigh, pushing the hair from her face. “Whew! Thank you, Inferno.” She scratched Felix under the chin. “Thank you, Felix. I couldn’t have done that without your help.”
Inferno moved aside to give Felix room to jump down, then fixed a serious eye on the healer. “Now, tell me about the man at the wedding.”
After two days of hard riding, Etain and Linq set up camp a few miles outside Deudraeth. A secluded cave near the Scwd yr Eira Falls proved the perfect base. Once unloaded, Etain built a fire, while Linq hobbled the horses and toted the saddles into the cave, laying one on either side of the small space. They shared the last of the bread and cheese, drinking both bottles of ale.
“I’ll go into town in the morning for supplies. Not much, just enough for a couple days. What do you think?” After a clink of bottles, Etain enjoyed a long drink.
Linq did the same, washing down the dust in his throat. “I think you’d best be careful, milady. Remember the Bok agents we saw a few miles back.”
“Do you really think they’d be interested in us?”
“I’m sure word has spread of Dar’s quarrel with his High Council. Couple that with a new marriage, and I think they’d like nothing more than to capture the High Lord’s new wife and use her to bring him to his knees.”
“I didn’t realize he was so high profile. Most of the Alamir act like he doesn’t exist.”
“I would venture to say that most Alamir don’t know he exists,” he said, adding more wood to the fire, “and for good reason. However, the same cannot be said for other realms. There are those who love him, but more would prefer him dead or, at the very least, in chains.”
Biting into a piece of bread, she considered his words. “Okay, so Dar is infamous. That doesn’t mean they know who I am. If he’s not here with me, who’s to know I’m his wife?”
He lifted a brow. “Let’s follow that line of thinking. Tall blonde with dual black scimitars, not to mention the VonNeshta family crest emblazoned on her back. Guess that wouldn’t be too much of a giveaway.”
Her cheeks flushing deep red, she jumped up and stalked out of the cave.
“Etain,” Linq called after her. “I wasn’t trying to...”
She stormed to the river’s edge. Razz whinnied, and Blackjack snorted his displeasure. “Sorry, y’all.” She gave each a soothing pat. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Linq walked up, an apologetic look on his face. “Etain, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intent to embarrass you.”
She waved off his apology. “I’m not angry with you, Linq. I’m mad at myself. Spirit pretty much said the same thing.” Etain stroked Razz’s black mane, unable to meet Linq’s gaze. “It’s not that I don’t pay attention. I do.” She placed her head on the strong neck of the mare. “No wonder he’s in such a dither, as Alatariel would say.” She looked over her shoulder. “I fell in love and married my soul mate without a thought as to who he was or the ramifications of his marrying an impulsive half-wit.”
Linq grabbed her by the arm, making her face him. “Impulsive, aye, but far from a half-wit. Love is one thing no one can control, not even a two-hundred-year-old Krymerian.” The pained look on her face prompted him to release his iron grip. “Sorry. There’s nothing like losing yourself in another person, Etain, especially when that person returns that love.”
Rubbing her arm, she gave him a small smile. “Even for a wise old elf?”
Linq turned toward the water. “You control what you can.” He glanced back and tapped his head. �
��You have to use your brain. Tap into that common sense I know comes as second nature.”
“You have to know I would never let anyone use me against Dar. I’d take my life first.”
“Let’s talk about tomorrow,” he said, cocking his head toward the cave. She walked with him as he outlined a simple plan. “You go into town…without Dar’s swords.” He paused, waiting for her rebuttal. When she said nothing, he carried on. “You can pick up supplies while I mingle with the locals.”
Back in the cave, they sat across from each other. “Tell me about your brother. What do you remember?”
She closed her eyes. “Dark hair, green eyes… He was tall for his age, about six feet, maybe more.” Her hands spanned out. “Broad shoulders. He looked a bit gangly because he hadn’t grown into his body yet, but the girls noticed him everywhere he went. He could’ve been a football player, but he liked wrestling.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”
She placed a hand over her heart, tears forming in her eyes. Avoiding the elf’s gaze, she looked into the fire, watching the flames dance. “Not since the night our parents died, so about five years.”
“That would make him twenty-one.”
Etain sniffled. “Maybe.” His brows came together in an inquisitive arch. She cleared her throat, swiping at her eyes. “I was fourteen. He was two years older than me.”
“What are you trying to tell me, Etain?”
“That was the night I came to the Alamir. I left my world at fourteen and stepped into the Alamir age of nineteen.” She held up a hand. “Don’t ask me how I know. I just…know. If the same happened to Robert, his age would be closer to twenty-six now.” Linq blew out a long breath. “He loved the outdoors, so I expect he’ll be in pretty good shape. He’ll probably be taller, too, maybe even taller than me.”
Linq scratched his chin in thought. “That’s good. It gives me something to work with. Are you clear on what you’re doing tomorrow?”
“Get supplies and come back here,” she said, ending with a sigh.
“Right. The less time you spend in town, the better. Did you bring a cloak?” She glanced at her pack and nodded. “Keep the hood over your head. There aren’t many women with your hair color, and definitely none as tall as you. The weather is cool, too, so it shouldn’t raise suspicions.”
“I’m aware of that, which is why I brought it.” Her curt reply had no effect on the elf.
He stretched out on the cave floor, using his saddle as a pillow. “Try not to talk too much.” He yawned, turning his back to her. “I don’t know if people are aware that Dar’s new wife has a Texan accent. Best not chance it.”
“Bloody hell.” She rolled her eyes. “I could speak in the tongue of the wee folk,” she quipped in a sarcastic Irish lilt. “Do ya think I’d be safe enough to market on me own then?” She waited for a response. “Linq?”
Linq smiled to himself, faking a light snore. He heard her sigh and shift her saddle, settling down for a night’s sleep. “Damn elf.”
Dar dropped into a chair in front of the fireplace, tossed his boots aside, and leaned back, staring into the fire. Why did you leave me alone here? Memories of the past few days stole the Krymerian from the present. A warm flush washed through him, remembering his love walking down the aisle, so beautiful, so perfect… Unimaginable happiness filled his heart remembering the vows exchanged, their wedding night. “My heart tells me you are true, yet my mind…,” he mumbled, thumbing the ring on his finger.
This is foolishness. I must clear my head.
He jammed his feet into his boots again and made his way through the hallways toward the palace courtyard. The magnificence and beauty of the palace had always proved a delight. Perhaps it would take his mind off darker thoughts. Dar nodded to those he passed, pleased to feel in control of himself again, hopeful for a reunion with his wife soon.
Women dressed in silken robes of muted blues and greens refused to look at him but acknowledged his presence with quiet mumblings. Men in uniforms glowered as he passed. Others clothed in everyday raiment did their best to ignore the seven-foot menace. Despite the adverse reactions, no one seemed in a hurry, yet he had a feeling they had somewhere to be. A few were seated on white marble benches, each one carved and polished to a high sheen. He noted the placement of guards throughout the palace.
Is it just my paranoia or are there more guards than usual?
Dar felt like a pariah amongst the pure. Despite Alatariel’s command it stay within the room, it was evident news of what had happened earlier in the day had already spread. He was not surprised. The gossip was too juicy not to share.
It was not the first time he had been considered undesirable, and he knew it would not be the last. He refused to dwell on it, instead turning his thoughts to the beauty around him. No matter how many times he walked the halls of Modertræ, the sheer size of the palace proper always astounded him. Hallways and passages stretched in every direction; her wide, airy stairways leading to many areas Dar had not yet visited. Statues of naked elves in proud and symbolic postures, carved from polished stone, adorned the halls and stair landings. A few of the statues even dwarfed Dar in size.
He wandered aimlessly for most of the day until he came across a set of large, heavy glass doors. Dar recognized it as the entrance of the private gardens of the queen, a secluded courtyard at the center of the palace. A simple command, “Opna mér”, opened the doors.
Lush trees shaded paths of crushed stone, their borders kissed by an array of jewel-like flowers. Fountains sculpted in the image of great waterfalls from every realm graced the outer walls, their clear waters cascading in curtains of liquid sunshine. He admired each fountain, but paused at one, in particular, intrigued by the exotic fish darting this way and that.
His eyes roamed to a darker portion of the pool where a lone black angelfish lurked in the shadows. Delicate fins flowed about its body, a black cape rippling in the wind. Dar could swear it kept watch over the other fish, acting as guard, ready to pounce and destroy any stranger who dared enter its underwater world. After a time, he noticed that none of the others approached the lone sentry. He viewed it as a show of respect rather than fear.
To see if his assumptions were correct, Dar poked a finger into the pool near a school of small fish. As they scattered, the dark fish charged out with a vicious brutality that belied its beauty. The tiny warrior held its ground, willing to fight on behalf of its charges’ safety.
“We have much in common, my small friend,” Dar said, feeling melancholy. “Forever watching from the shadows, charging in to protect the innocent from harm.”
Dar withdrew his finger from the pond. The feisty little fish glided back and forth, waiting for another attack. Not sure if it would work, Dar sent a message to the sentry.
Most noble warrior, I bow to you in defeat. In honor of your bravery, I withdraw from the field of battle and leave you to your watch. He bowed.
The small guardian stopped. Dar was certain the fish stared at him in contemplation. The angelfish circled several times, apparently as a warning. Seemingly satisfied with the intruder’s retreat, it turned and swam back to its dark corner.
With a slight smile, the defeated warrior moved to the next fountain, watching another school of fish dart back and forth. He tried to remember the happy moments in his past, times without the chaos of anger or battles, and realized that happiness and joy had been seldom in his life.
His children were his most joyful memories. The games they played and the sound of their laughter… Thanks to Midir, those days were lost forever.
They died simply because of who their father was. His bloodline was doomed to suffer the same fate as all the VonNeshtas, yet he dared to hope that the generation he gave birth to would find peace. As painful as it was to remember his children, a kernel of hope sparked in his heart. Perhaps the child Faux carried would break the curse.
Through tear-filled eyes, he stared at the wedding band on his
finger. It represented the happiest day of his life. The trip into town with Etain, the dance they shared, the warmth that filled his heart when she sang for him, her quirks, her love, her smell… A wide smile lit his face. She was so beautiful on our wedding day. A sudden lust twinged in his groin. That dress… Tartarus. It took all his will not to take her right there in front of everyone. His heart nearly burst when she spoke her vows.
Two loud voices calling his name shook him from his reverie. Elfin and Wolfe pushed through the glass doors, headed straight for him. Before they were too close, Dar wiped the tears from his face.
“I’m here.”
“By all that’s holy, man. Queen Alatariel has the whole palace looking for you,” Wolfe said.
“I don’t know why. I am well, as you can see.”
“Well, let’s think about that.” Elfin stroked his chin, eyeing Dar as though he were a person of lesser intelligence. “If threatening the queen’s life wasn’t enough…” He counted on his fingers as he continued. “One, we have a dead wizard. Two, there are other wizards who, although not dead, are in the infirmary. Three-”
Dar raised his hands. “I get the idea. Thank you for your eloquence. I won’t ask from where you’ve heard all this.” He caught the uncomfortable look pass between the two. “To put your minds at ease, I’ve been reacquainting myself with the beauty of this incredible place.”
Wolfe recovered first, grinning. “Massively incredible.” He jabbed Elfin in the ribs and sidestepped to avoid a responding jab. “The queen would like you to join her for dinner. She was concerned when you didn’t return to your room, considering all the stuff that happened. You know…” He lowered his voice. “The stuff we’re not supposed to know about.”
Dar looked from one to the other. “I would prefer to be alone tonight. Please convey my apologies to the queen and give her my regards. She will understand.”
“With the utmost respect, Dar…,” started Elfin.
“She will understand,” he repeated.
The young men looked at each other. “We’re no Miss Manners,” Wolfe quipped.