“Stay with-” Dariana starts to say before her friend plunges into the sewers and disappears from her mind’s reach.
*****
“What in all of Windemere is going on here?” Kira groggily asks when she wakes up to a bizarre scene.
The heiress’s ebony hair has been styled into rainbow-colored spikes that go in random directions and her nightgown has been shredded up to her waist. The young woman’s manicured nails have been coated in every color of polish that she owns and she finds a few of the leaking bottles on the floor by her bed. Glancing at a warped mirror, Kira finds that her teeth have been painted too and there is a swear word written on her forehead. Books and clothes have been strewn about the modestly furnished room, which is brightened by morning light from the open windows. Wrapping a warm sheet around her waist, she goes to close the shades only to find that they have been frozen to the wall and reek of sweet wine. She waves to her neighbors who are having a decadent breakfast on one of their high balconies, the two manors sharing a marble wall. The elderly pair cautiously wave back, but the woman gives Kira an openly judgmental look before turning her chair around and enjoying her tea.
“Like she didn’t cause trouble when she was my age. Not that I know what happened here. Who was in my room last night?” the heiress asks while she carefully sticks her head into the hallway. She can see one of her maids dusting a statue down the hall, the brown-haired elf freezing at the sound of the heiress. “Sorry if I sound angry. I’m having trouble remembering what happened last night and my room is a mess.”
“We heard a commotion, Lady Grasdon,” the servant replies. Tucking the feather duster into her apron, the elf steps toward Kira, but stops when the heiress gestures for her to stop. “When we knocked, you told us that you were practicing with your kusari-gama. Then you requested three bottles of wine and locked us out for the night.”
“That’s right. I guess I overdid drowning my sorrows,” Kira says, not remembering any of what she has been told. “Thank you. I’ll be down for breakfast in an hour or two. Might need a bath first. I’m very . . . sweaty.”
“What happened to your hair, milady?”
Reaching up to touch the solid spikes, the embarrassed woman forces the biggest smile she can muster. “I had an accident with the new gels. One clumsy swing with the sickle and you’re covered in a few diamond spheres worth of beauty supplies. I’ll clean it up . . . somehow. I might need some of the stronger shampoos and soaps with that bath. Enjoy the rest of your morning, Dana.”
Kira slams the door and locks it before searching the messy room for clues to what happened. She finds the empty bottles of wine under her bed along with the decimated remains of her cosmetics. A bump from the far side of the room brings her attention to the shelves above her chestnut desk. Sitting on the lowest shelf are her champion figurines, most of which appear to be untouched. The only disturbance is that the Luke toy is partially stripped with tiny kiss marks on its bare chest and face. Once standing next to the forest tracker doll, the heiress’s own replica is hanging from the corner of the shelf by the tattered remains of its emerald dress. Even more unnerving is that its head has been twisted backwards and all of the limbs have been rearranged.
Picking up the broken toy, Kira hears the bump again and looks down to see the locked lid of her jewelry box shake. Her senses on edge, she places her figurine on the shelf and gets her weapon from a nearby rack. Cautiously returning to the desk, she watches as whatever is inside the wooden box knocks it onto the floor. She bends down with the blunt end of her weapon in one hand and her other reaching for the golden latch, which has been jammed with a circular earring. A small form lands on the jewelry box and smacks Kira’s hands away, causing the heiress to scramble back.
“Please don’t open that. It took me hours to catch her,” the Sari figurine mentions, her red and yellow dress torn in several places. Her sapphire hair has been cut to her shoulders and one of her arms has been broken at the elbow. “I can explain if you let me. Though it looks like you’re about to overreact.”
Kira swings the blunt end of her weapon at the figurine, but the possessed doll dives out of the way. The heiress frantically chases the Sari across the room, following her under the bed where she loses both the toy and her improvised skirt. By the time Kira scrambles out from under the furniture, the tiny figure has disappeared. The sound of the neighbors shouting draws her attention to the window and she realizes how she must look to them. Running her thumb along the wooden handle, the glistening sickle of her kusari-gama turns red and emits a balmy heat that reminds her of the desert. She taps the weapon against the drapes, which thaw and fall across the windows. Kira is surprised to find the Sari doll pressed against the exposed wall.
“I swear this wasn’t done by me,” the figurine states, inching away from the enraged woman. She casts a silence spell around the room to prevent anyone from hearing the ensuing scuffle. “I know we have issues, but there’s a rational explanation for this. Another Sari snuck into your room to cause mischief and I trapped her in the box.”
“I’m not that stupid,” Kira says as she lunges at the toy. Her shoulder slams against the wall when the Sari dives out of the way, but she catches the figurine by the foot. “Why would you make more than one of you to torment me and not make them get along? I give you credit on making yourself look like you were in a fight. That’s a nice touch. What kind of trap did you put on my jewelry box?”
“You figured me out. My master plan was to booby trap the box then stop you from opening it,” Sari snaps, trying to stop her skirt from falling over her face. “Please turn me right side up because this position is embarrassing. Anyone walking in can see my underwear, which the other me drew a goblin’s face on when she pinned me under a vase.”
Finding the confession odd and out of place, the heiress checks the figurine to find a drawing on her butt. “That’s my favorite shade of lipstick and it looks kind of fresh. I’ll admit there’s no way you could draw something this detailed on yourself. Do you have any idea how ridiculous your story sounds?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t make it any less true,” the pouting figurine answers as she is flipped and held in Kira’s fist. She notices the grip around her is getting tighter, the fake joints in her body creaking. “I understand that you blame me for most of the trouble you’ve had with Luke and it’s created a lot of hate between us. You’re well within your rights to be angry, but now isn’t the time for us to act immature. Our friends are in trouble.”
“The real Sari could have used a mirror to draw that goblin and then enchant it to look fresh,” the black-haired woman mentions, unwilling to listen to reason. She throws the toy to the floor and watches it bounce a few times. “You almost tricked me, gypsy. Now I really want to believe you’re playing fair, but this is too crazy. To prove you’re being honest, I want you to open that jewelry box. If there’s another Sari in there, I’ll listen to you. If not, I’ll pop your head off.”
Unsure if she can be killed in her current form, Sari cautiously makes her way to the jewelry box. The container has bounced several feet from where it fell during the scuffle and it is gently banging against the leg of a white sofa. Waiting patiently for the captured doll inside to stop thrashing, the one in red and yellow mutters a quick prayer to Cessia. She moves as if pushing her hair over her shoulder and whimpers at the realization that her tresses have been sliced off and stuffed into several perfume bottles. Sari removes the earring from the lock and flips the latch, the gypsy jumping back when the lid is kicked open from inside.
A Sari wearing a blue and green dress leaps out of the jewelry box and hurls an earring backing like a dagger. The tiny projectile hits the other figurine in the eye, causing her to scream and hold her face even though she does not feel any pain. It is enough of a distraction to give the mischievous toy an opening to sprint at Kira. Ice appears under the heiress’s feet and she falls on her back, the thudding impact knocking the wind from her lungs. The giggli
ng Sari runs up the woman’s leg and repeatedly pokes at her with the pin from a brooch, each stab making the living human scream in pain. The doll is swatted away with the heavy end of Kira’s kusari-gama and lands against a potted plant. Her right arm is crushed and part of her face has been caved in by the blow, but the figurine still stands and smiles like nothing is wrong. From across the room, the red and yellow Sari flings a ball of sleep-inducing dust, but the other one dives away from the spell.
“More of me are coming, Grasdon!” the crazed toy declares with a dramatic cackle. She coats her body in an invisibility spell and the last sign of her is the sound of something leaping off the window ledge.
Kira sits up and winces at the throbbing pain in her leg, the stabbing leaving several bleeding wounds on her brown skin. She grabs a nearby rag to clean the mess and sucks in a breath at the unexpected burning sensation. Recognizing the smell of wine, she realizes that the scrap of fabric has been drenched in the liquid. Stumbling to her feet, she limps over to a dresser and pulls out her least favorite shirt to tear into bandages. The sound of muttered curses draws her attention to the remaining Sari, who is yanking on the earring in her eye. Kira uses her kusari-gama to snag the figurine and flips it into the air. She catches the startled gypsy and places her on top of the dresser before yanking the jewelry free.
“Thank you. It appears some of the other Saris have access to their naiad powers,” the doll says while sitting on an overturned bottle of face cream. “Honestly, I never thought any of me would come after you or that they even remembered you were in Gaia. I should probably explain what’s going on since you’re involved now.”
“That’d be nice,” Kira replies while wrapping her leg. Turning away from the dresser, she sheds her ruined clothes and searches the floor for anything clean enough to wear. “The two of you made such a mess last night. If I had to guess, I’d say one of you hit me with a sleep spell before the fight broke out. I’m listening, but I need to get dressed if I’m going to help you hunt the other you down.”
“Actually, there are at least fourteen other Saris in Gaia,” the toy politely explains as she climbs down to the floor. Searching through the jewelry box, she claims two pins to use as makeshift daggers. “You obviously know about these champion figurines since you have a collection. Well they’ve become a problem for us. We get mobbed whenever we enter a town and these things are creating cracks in the curse that contains the Baron. People are remembering him before they’re ready, so Gabriel sent us to get the situation under control. Catarina Warrenberg is behind the toys and is operating out of Nevra Coil, so we made our way there. We were on the verge of solving the problem when things went bad.”
“I’d replace bad with horribly wrong,” Kira interrupts. She smiles when she sees a clean pair of pants under an overturned table. “So this is a gnome-induced accident?”
Sari drags a pair of leather boots out from behind an overturned chair, the footwear having a few scratches on the heels. “Not really. The Baron has Yola Biggs on his side. I’d heard stories about how random and insane the Goddess of Chaos could be, but I never imagined she’d be angry about being left out of a collection of toys. She and Trinity attacked the factory while we were meeting with Catarina. There was an explosion and most of us woke up in our replicas, which were shipped before anybody knew what happened. Luke, Timoran, Delvin, and Fizzle are somewhere in Gaia too. I’ve no idea what happened to Nyx or Dariana. We’re hoping they’re okay and on the way to rescue us. Our plan was to meet at Rainbow Tower if we got separated, but I’ve a feeling the rest of me aren’t going to follow that order.”
“You seemed to get the worst of it,” the heiress points out while frowning at the pile of socks that has been encased in ice. “Did your personality get fractured? The other you was aggressive and angry while you’re polite and mellow.”
“It’s been suggested that Yola couldn’t decide on which doll to put me in, so she split me into pieces,” Sari explains with a tired sigh. She gives up trying to pull the heavy boots and climbs onto a chair to scan the room for more clothes. “I’m the rational side of my psyche, but most of the Saris are from the part that craves love and attention. I never realized that was such a big part of my personality or how out of control it could get. It was fortunate that you bought me instead of one of the others. The gods only know what would have happened if I hadn’t been here to trap that other toy. Cessia must be looking out for both of us and, hopefully, our missing friends.”
Kira rummages through the mess at the bottom of her closet, pulling out a tight shirt with leather patches sewn in to protect her vitals. She throws the top onto the bed with a few other clothes and returns to her dresser to fix some of the damage the trouble-making Sari caused to her face and hair. Grabbing a spray bottle, she shoots a few jets of lemon-smelling liquid on the stiff spikes projecting from her head. The gel dissolves enough for her to undo the unflattering style, but her tresses remain stiff and clumped together. A rough sponge dipped in brown gel helps her get rid of the obscene word on her forehead, the heiress cringing at the burning itch that runs around her face.
“I’m helping you for Luke,” she announces as she checks herself for more unwanted decorations. Using the mirror, she notices a fuzzy drawing on her back where she is unable to reach it with the sponge. “First, I need a bath to get the rest of this mess off and then I need to have a little food. Maybe I’ll do both at the same time. You can stay here and keep an eye out for . . . more of you.”
“You know he loves you more than me, right?” Sari asks, causing her rival to blush and turn away. “I mean, he does love me, but it’s changed after what happened with your family and my inability to think of the future. Guess I did myself in by thinking it would always be an adventure and the next level would never happen.”
Wanting to quiet the doll, Kira throws the balled up remains of a shredded shirt, the projectile missing her target by a few feet. “I really don’t want to have this conversation with a toy. Let’s get you back to normal and then we’ll talk. Besides, I told you I didn’t want you to surrender.”
“I’m not surrendering because you’ve defeated me,” the figurine says. She scowls at her casual manner, sure that she would be crying if she had tear ducts. “Luke and I talked and nothing else is going to happen. He might be distant from both of us now, but I know where he’ll end up when the time comes. Even if I change my mind about marriage, I don’t think he and I can recapture what we had. Not when you’ve been ready all along.”
“I really want to hate you, Sari, but you’re making it so hard.”
“As you can tell, part of me feels the same about you, Kira.”
“You’ll take care of him while you travel, right?”
“Yes, but I do have one request.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
The figurine hops off the chair and approaches Kira, motioning for the heiress to kneel on the floor. She climbs onto the woman’s shoulder and pushes the thick hair away to lean as close as possible. Sari fidgets with her hands, the bizarre cracking of her fake knuckles making her shiver.
“I want to have a last kiss with Luke,” the gypsy requests when she finds her courage. She waits a few seconds to see if the heiress tries to strike her, but nothing happens. “It will be at the time and place of my choosing. No enchantments or attempts to sabotage whatever is going on with you and him. All I want is to be able to kiss him one more time. A real one on the lips with feeling behind it. As long as you grant me this one favor, I’ll support you even though it hurts to step back from him.”
“I guess so,” Kira replies, her anger for the gypsy dulling slightly. Part of her still expects a trick from the other woman, which prevents her from agreeing wholeheartedly. “Though any funny stuff and I’ll use the tools I recently bought to defeat you in battle. Now I feel like I wasted money on all of these things. The heat-enchanted weapon and anti-ice armor weren’t too bad, but the Mermaid Ring was pretty expensive.”
The young woman gently puts the doll on the floor and kneels in front of her, a few loose beads pressing against her shin. “Maybe not to the death. I do feel bad that you got hurt in this and I know it’s my fault. In some ways, you’re the biggest victim here and I should make amends with you. If you ever need my help then never hesitate to ask. I’m not talking just this once, but in the future. After all, I’m sure you’ll still be around after I marry Luke. He’s said many times how special you are to him even if he chooses me.”
“Why are you still talking like you might lose?”
“Because he still has to make the decision to be with me.”
“So our final fate is in the hands of a guy who has the emotional maturity of a pomegranate.”
“Why a pomegranate?”
“I really want something to eat even though I don’t get hungry in this body and it just popped into my head.”
A solid knock on the door startles the women and Kira pulls a stained gown tight around her barely clothed body. Faint whispering can be heard before it is drowned out by a sudden flood of curses in Sari’s voice. Another solid blow to the entrance makes the yelling stop and a figurine’s arm rolls under the door. Kira inches across the room with her weapon ready and her companion ready with a charm spell on her waterstone lips. Both of them relax with they hear the bleating of a sheep and the gentle hushing of her master.
The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8) Page 23