DreamReaper_Blood of Kaos Series Book II

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DreamReaper_Blood of Kaos Series Book II Page 35

by Nesa Miller


  “Except for the fact Dar nearly slit the queen’s throat, Nunnehi was great,” Wolfe said, excited to share his experience in the elven realm. “We even participated in the Blade Masters Gathering. Dar, too.”

  Etain stared at the man.

  “Aye,” Elfin joined in. The ice-blue gaze slid to the elf. “He would've won, too, if he hadn't tripped over Illiana.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Wolfe teased with a straight face. “You gotta admit he was a little rusty.”

  “Rusty or not, it was an honor to compete with him.”

  “True, true.” Wolfe nodded. “But-”

  Etain placed her hands on her hips. “He was well the last time you saw him?”

  Wolfe was somewhat taken aback by the interruption. “Oh, aye. Definitely.”

  “Well, until we stepped through the portal…,” Elfin added, a sheepish look on his face.

  “Portal? He came with you then?” she asked.

  Wolfe scratched his head. “He came with us, but as soon as we stepped through, well…he fell to his knees, mumbling.”

  “He was really upset,” Elfin continued. “We didn't understand what he-”

  “Gentlemen! Where is my husband?”

  “That's just it, Lady E. We aren't sure.” Wolfe stepped back at the flash in her eyes. He hurried on with the rest. “He opened another portal and vanished.”

  “Another portal?” She eyed the two and turned away in thought. “Where would he go?”

  Wolfe shrugged. “We saw big golden doors. Kinda like what they have in Nunnehi, but different.”

  “With a crest,” Elfin added. “He was muttering about laying something to waste.”

  She disappeared into the wardrobe and emerged a few moments later, sword in hand. Wolfe and Elfin exchanged nervous looks. Wary, they watched her draw the blade. She held the sword out toward the young men. “Did the crest look like this?”

  The two blinked, caught off guard by the blade shoved in their faces. Finally focusing on the sword rather than her, they leaned in for a closer look at the hilt, seeing an upright sword with massive wings spread on either side.

  “Oh yeah, that’s it,” Wolfe confirmed, a relieved expression on his face. “But bigger.”

  “Right, bigger,” Elfin agreed.

  “Thank you, boys. Would you do me a favor and ask Swee to meet me at the little cottage up the road?” She tucked the sword away. “Tell her to come alone.” She looked each man straight in the eye. “Do not tell Inferno, Linq, or my brother. Do not tell anyone.”

  “You’re going after him?” Wolfe asked.

  “Please, keep it to yourself and give me time to do what I need to do.”

  Elfin nodded. “Be safe, Lady E, and bring him home.”

  “Aye.”

  As soon as the door closed, Etain returned to the wardrobe to put on her breastplate, strapping Dar's twin blades onto her back. A glowing Nim rested in a golden scabbard on her hip. “We’re among friends here. Why do you still glow?” She slipped her dragon helm onto her head.

  “Are you mad at me for leaving you here last night? I wasn’t sure how effective you’d be in the human realm.”

  I am as effective as you allow me to be, milady.

  Etain bowed her head. “Forgive me, Nim. I will not doubt you again.” Picking up the black circlet of Dar’s breastplate, she prayed, “Please, be safe,” then disappeared in a blue shimmer.

  Swee found her pacing in the small living room of the cottage. She hesitated at the door, seeing her friend dressed for battle. “Wolfe said you wanted to see me?”

  “Ah, thank goodness, you’re here. Aye.” Etain stopped and motioned her into the room. “Dar has gone to Castle LOKI. I don't know why he thinks I'm there, but it doesn’t matter.”

  “What're you talking about?”

  “Dar came through the portal with Wolfe and Elfin, then left alone through another. He's gone to deal with the High Council. I'm sure of it.”

  Swee remembered her last day as a member of the Council. “They did threaten you, Etain. What do you need from me?”

  “I need someone to know where I’m going, just in case things turn sour with the clan.”

  “Surely Dar can handle them.”

  “No.” Etain took a deep breath, slowly blowing it out. “Things didn’t go so well last time. I can’t take that chance.”

  “O-Okay,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice. “Before you go...” Swee reached out for Etain’s wrist. “I’m just checking your pulse.” After a moment or two, she asked, “Would you mind taking off your helm?” Etain gave her a curious look and slowly removed the headpiece. Her forehead felt warm, but not feverish. “Look into my eyes. Any headache or fuzziness?”

  “No.”

  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” she asked, poking and prodding the warrior’s neck for any residual swelling.

  Etain dropped the helm into a chair and caught the healer’s hands. “I’m fine, Swee. I can’t let him face them alone.”

  “Someone should go with you. Going in there alone… It isn’t safe.”

  “I may have no faith in the High Council, but I believe in the clan, Swee. They won’t betray their chieftain. I’m sure of it.” Etain let her go and slipped on the helm. “Remember, not a word to anyone.”

  Swee mimed zipping her mouth. “I have to say, you look incredible in your armor. Part of me wishes I were going with you just to see the looks on their faces.”

  “I’ll be back soon.” Ice-blue eyes changed to violet and she was gone.

  Robert knocked on Etain’s door and waited. He knocked again. Checking the hallway, no one else was about, so he turned the knob, stepped inside, and locked the door behind him. The bed was made. His gaze went to the bedside table. The teacup was gone.

  “Etain?”

  No response.

  He noticed the open wardrobe, remembering the leather breeches and white shirt he’d put away last night before laying out the red dress. The dress was there, but the other outfit wasn’t. “Then she has been here, but the tea should have…” In the corner of the wardrobe, he spotted what he believed to be her crystal sword. As he started to close the door, he realized it no longer glowed, and reached in, bringing the blade into the light. It was not made of crystal but did boast a crystal pommel. A cackle, sounding eerily like Midir’s, wafted through the room as he brandished the sword toward an unseen opponent.

  Five double barbs popped out from the hilt, digging deep into his palm and fingers. Robert threw the blade to the floor. “Fuck!” Blood dripped from ten tiny punctures that burned like hellfire. Tears stung his eyes as he rushed into the bathroom, shoving the hand under the cool water from the tap. “Foul piece of shit,” he swore, waiting for the burn to subside.

  With a small towel wrapped around the wounds, he returned to the bedroom, but the sword was not where he had dropped it. Instinct told him to check the wardrobe. There, in the corner, sat the blade, tucked away in its scabbard, as pristine as the day of its creation. “Bewitched.” He slammed the door of the wardrobe shut. “Let’s see how much damage you can do from your dark corner.” Robert left in search of the healer: his new friend. “Maybe she can tell me where the hell my sister is.”

  Swee slipped to the floor, shaking from the residual terrors of a dream. She used the easy chair she’d been sitting in as support to get to her feet and shuffled into the kitchen for a glass of water. Looking out at the cottage garden, the dream came to her in bits and pieces. She distinctly remembered a black crocodile.

  I should get back.

  Halfway down the lane, she met Robert coming toward her. “Swee.” There was a concerned look in his eyes. “I've been looking for you. Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” Remembering her promise to Etain, she pushed the remnants of the dream out of her mind and put on a brave smile. “I was tidying the cottage, in case we have more guests.”

  “You look shaken. Has someone upset you?”

  S
he felt like his green eyes could see right into her soul. “N-No, of course not. I think the excitement from yesterday has caught up with me. I sat down for just a moment and fell asleep.”

  They walked back toward Laugharne. “Do you know where Etain is? I can't find her anywhere.”

  “Sorry, Robert. I’ve been so busy all morning, I haven’t seen her.” Local flora along the pathway took on a sudden allure for the healer. “Maybe she-”

  “Look here…,” he interrupted her. “Who is this?”

  Swee looked up and followed his gaze. “It looks like Felix,” she said, a smile coming to her lips. “One of Inferno’s hounds. You aren’t afraid of dogs, are you, Robert?”

  He smiled in return. “Of course not. I didn’t know there were any dogs on the grounds. You said one…” He looked farther down the road, “Where would the others be?”

  “He only has the two, Felix and Ruby.” She waved to the dog, calling out, “Hi, Felix! They disappeared a few nights ago and Felix’s just recently returned. We’re waiting for Ruby to show up.” She lowered her arm, frowning. “That’s odd.”

  “What?”

  “He usually comes running, bouncing and full of energy.”

  Robert watched the hound. “Are you sure it’s Felix?”

  “Yes. Why is he just standing there?” Swee took a step toward the dog.

  Felix lowered his head, his ears laid back, baring his teeth, and emitted a low growl.

  “Oh.” Swee turned to Robert. “He’s never done that.”

  Robert placed an arm in front of her. The fur along Felix’s back raised up and his tail stiffened, his growl more menacing than before. “Maybe we should go back to the cottage. He doesn’t look happy.”

  “I don’t know, Robert. I’m afraid if we…”

  Felix took a step toward them.

  “Do you have a knife, Swee?”

  She gave him a horrified look. “A knife? Why?”

  “If he attacks-”

  “He won’t attack. We’ve only caught him off-guard, that’s all. He’ll settle down in a minute.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Felix, boy! Where are ya?” Inferno came around the bend in the road and stopped, taking in the situation. A tense moment passed before he released a shrill whistle, getting the dog’s attention. Felix’s stance seemed to relax but his gaze remained on the couple. Inferno placed a hand on the hound’s head. “Beth sydd wedi mynd i mewn i, bachgen? Wedi gweld rhywbeth nad yw'n hoffi (What's gotten into ya, boy? Seen something ya don't like)?” He eyed Robert and Swee. “Gadewch i ni fynd yn ôl i'r tŷ. Dewch (Let’s get back to the house. Come).”

  They watched the man and his dog walk back down the road.

  Swee shivered. “Well, we should get to the house, too. Spirit’s due home any minute.”

  Coming into the castle courtyard, the parked Hummer told of the mage’s return. Swee pulled Robert along with her. “Let me introduce you to the lady of the house.”

  He let himself be led inside, keeping an eye out for any lurking hounds. As expected, they found Spirit in the kitchen. Swee made the introductions.

  Robert pressed dry lips to Spirit’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, milady.”

  “So yer Etain’s brother?” She pulled free.

  His eyes sparkled with a touch of mischief. However, Swee stole her away before he could answer, practically forcing her onto a barstool. “Let’s celebrate your homecoming. We have plenty of food left from last night’s dinner.”

  Spirit was quite happy with leftovers, not wanting to do anything after her long trip. Robert helped with the meal, acting as sous chef under Swee’s instructions, while Spirit watched, perched at the island. The duo worked in concert, chopping, blending, and sautéing leftovers to create an innovative new meal.

  “I hear Etain made an impression,” Spirit said, sipping a fresh cup of tea.

  “Oh, my goodness, Spirit. I wish you could’ve seen her in that red dress,” Swee effused, taking over the duties at the stove. “Robert, do you know much about salads?” He smiled, nodded, and relinquished the spatula to the chef. “Etain was so beautiful.”

  “A red dress?” Spirit asked, surprised.

  Robert noticed her expression. “Is that so unusual?”

  “If you knew our girl, you’d know she doesn’t do dresses and only wears black.”

  “Growing up, her favorite color was red…” Robert sliced a large head of lettuce in half, “and she was always in a dress.”

  Spirit raised a brow. “Do you know why she only wears black?”

  A heavy silence rolled through the kitchen, blanketing the room with an unforeseen animosity. Swee sensed the tension. It crept over her like a cold, clammy stickiness that clung to her skin. She turned from the stove, confused by the sudden change. Her gaze went from Spirit to Robert. Devoid of emotion, Robert stared at Etain’s guardian, the knife poised over the split head of lettuce. Spirit challenged him with her steady gaze. Her eyes were alight with something Swee had not seen in the mage before. She wasn’t sure whether it was a protective fire burning within the hazel depths or one that promised a lethal response. Swee opened her mouth to speak, but the back door opened at that moment, making her jump.

  Inferno stopped just inside the kitchen, his eyes going directly to his wife. “Ya all right, love?”

  Spirit lowered her eyes, then raised them to her husband. “Aye, me love. I could do with some fresh air, though.” She slid off the barstool. “Let’s take a walk.”

  “Anything for my lady.” He afforded a quick glance toward Robert, holding his arm out for his wife. Arms linked, they passed Linq and the UWS clan members who had come with him. An indiscernible nod passed between the Alamir chieftain and the elf.

  Swee cleared her throat and stole a glance at Robert, who had not moved an inch. I don’t understand what just happened here. She took a deep breath and sent a smile across the room. “Don’t go far. Tea should be ready soon.”

  23

  Long Live LOKI

  From the top of the dais, Savage watched the LOKI clan file into the spacious throne room. Although she had sat upon the throne in the presence of the High Council, she was not so arrogant as to do it in front of the entire clan…yet. There would be plenty of opportunities to enjoy once they appointed her chieftain. This was her time and she planned to luxuriate in it. With Dar locked away and having no means of escape, she could take all the time in the world. Therefore, with a patient heart, she waited until the entire clan filled the great hall.

  She loved the order she had brought to the clan. No more mingling of the castes. Warriors stood with warriors, clad in their grey armor. The Magi, dressed in robes of greens, blues, and browns, kept to themselves. The Judicial Caste looked their part in robes of blue or white. Finally, the BloodCore, her BloodCore, in their red armor, filed in, surrounding the dais.

  Pyro, Nae’Blis of the BloodCore, and Warden, Machin Chin of the Warriors, stepped forward, standing alone in the gap between the clan members and the BloodCore facing them from the base of the dais.

  Savage frowned, noticing her Council was not complete. “Where is Shera?”

  Warden looked up. “She’s not been seen since this morning.”

  Savage muttered under her breath. “Incompetent idiot.” She then graced all in the room with a rare smile. She’ll be the first I replace.

  “Welcome, my clan family. Today is an important day for LOKI…for us.” She paced back and forth as she spoke. “It is a day in which we, as a clan, will unite and determine a new future, a future of our own choosing. You’re all aware of the recent quest made by your High Council in search of our chieftain.” She stopped, turned her face to the heavens, shook her head, then looked at the clan with a forlorn expression. She even managed to shed a tear. “It saddens me to bring you this news.”

  The clan watched with expectant faces. She maintained the sad mask, but her heart danced, knowing she had them in the palm of her hand. Delighted to del
iver the killing blow to Dar’s reign, she opened her mouth to speak, but the floor suddenly trembled. Savage steadied herself with a hand on the throne. The great columns vibrated, cracks lacing up the mighty pillars. Tiny fragments of glass sparkled as they showered down from the shattered windows above. Hearing the doors rattle in their jambs, those nearest scattered only moments before the doors exploded from their sturdy hinges and sailed through the air. Several of the BloodCore, including Pyro, fell to the floor to avoid one of the wooden missiles. Its twin embedded itself into the throne itself, just missing Savage.

  Everyone turned to their neighbors, checking if there were injuries. Assured no one was hurt, each head turned toward the ruined doorway. A concerted gasp ran through the clan. Even Savage was taken aback by the seven-foot, silver-headed dragon, wings extended above her head.

  Nim’Na’Sharr’s crystal tang shone with a light as bright as Etain’s eyes. “Honey, I’m home.” She strolled into the hall, her eyes returning to their ice-blue, the dragon on her breastplate shimmering with life.

  Warden recovered first and stepped in front of Etain. “You will answer for this trespass.”

  Savage cracked her whip. “Pyro, do your duty.”

  “BloodCore,” he called out. Seven of the red-armored caste immediately surrounded Etain. The remaining BloodCore filled the gap in front of the dais.

  Etain recognized the soldiers. They were the first seven to join the clan when Dar had made the announcement. He had trained them, fought with them, and trusted them with his life. It would hurt his heart to see them standing against his wife and his wishes. She looked one in the eye and softly spoke his name. “Jstmad.”

  With the threat contained, Savage continued her speech. “Do you see?” Her gaze moved from person to person as she spoke. “Do you see?” She turned and pointed the end of her whip at Etain. “He insults us by sending his mistress to do his bidding. I am a better leader than he ever was.”

  Etain’s eyes narrowed. She took a step toward the dais, but the BloodCore surrounding her brought up their shields, partially drew their blades, and tightened the circle.

 

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