Honeyed Words

by J. A. Pitts

  I glanced across the mirrors. “Can we get word home, for starters? Let Jimmy and Julie know we are safe?”

  “Did that already,” Katie said, nodding. “While you were sleeping.”

  “But I could do more,” Skella said. “Shall we contact anyone else?”

  I thought for a minute; there were two I was most worried about.

  “Yes, can you see the house? Can you see Qindra?”

  Skella looked scared for a moment but shook her head. “I can try. I’m not sure.”

  “Try.”

  She used the mirror that showed Monkey Shines. It was a transient image, following me to places I went to regularly but were more public.

  The mirror clouded, then cleared for a moment. The dresser had been knocked over. The dead guy lay on the floor by the bed, and the sky outside the window was black.

  “It’s hard,” Skella said, straining. “The connection is tenuous.”

  The bedroom scene shifted as I moved around the mirror. I could see the hallway and partway into the room Qindra stood in, but I could not see her. The place was full of pain, though. I could see it in the air; the shades had not all died in the dwarven caverns. Some remained in the house, and I’d guess more were drawn there each day.

  The scene shifted, rolling like watching the porn channels without paying to unlock them. I could hear strange noises, see shards of images, but nothing intelligible.

  Finally the mirror blanked, and Skella stumbled. Katie caught her and helped her to the ground. “Too hard,” she said.

  “Could we travel through that?”

  “No,” she said, flatly. “No chance. I couldn’t keep a strong enough connection. You’d be lost.”

  Lost in the mirror world sounded like a bad idea. Not something I wanted to explore.

  We left the shrine and headed back to Unun. We needed to say good-bye and head home.

  “Your place or Black Briar?” Skella asked us when we stood in her home again.

  I knew what we should do. “Black Briar, I think.”

  Katie nodded at me. “Jimmy’s worried.”

  “Okay, I can call Julie from there.”

  “What about Gletts?” Katie asked. “Will he be okay?”

  “Gran thinks he’ll come home when he wants,” Skella said with hope. “He just has to realize the fight’s over and he’s safe again. Just need to lure him back.”

  “I have an idea,” I said. “Let’s go see him.”

  The room was solemn, lit only by the light from the windows, and deep shadows filled the odd places. Gletts was lying on a table that reminded me of a bier more than anything.

  I walked over and stroked the hair off his forehead. He looked so small there, but I remembered him charging into battle to protect my friends and his sister. “Gletts,” I said, sitting beside him on a long bench. “I need you to come home. Unun and Skella need you here. They need to tell you how brave you were.”

  Skella was crying. Katie stood behind her with her hands on the young elf’s shoulders.

  I pulled the sleeve of my T-shirt, tucking my arm back inside, and took off my bra under the shirt.

  “Here,” I said, draping the bra across his folded hands. “A token of my approval. Thank you for helping them. Thank you for being brave.”

  I leaned over, kissed him on the cheek, and stood up, clapping my hands together. “Home now?”

  Skella was astonished, and Katie began to laugh. “You have changed Beauhall, that’s for sure.”

  I stepped close to her and kissed her on the nose. “Life is change. Let’s get out of here.”

  Sixty-four

  Things were a little wild at Black Briar. Once the attack they expected didn’t come, they’d camped out for the night. Now that it was the end of the next day, folks were heading home. We just missed the twins, but Melanie was there with Jimmy and Deidre.

  Ari would live, but his throat was pretty messed up. If he could talk again, he’d have a gravelly voice. He’d never sing again. Beats being dead all to hell.

  We exchanged stories over dinner. Nothing happened at Black Briar, but there was some very funny meteorological activity in the area. Dark clouds streaking over the mountains, intense lightning, storms.

  As soon as we were settled, I plugged in my cell phone. There was a call I needed to make. I looked around at the folks here at Black Briar, the family I’d chosen, and thought back to the one I’d inherited.

  Qindra was trapped, just like Megan. Had I abandoned her to a similar fate? Had I escaped, only to never look back? I was a shit. I lay awake longer than I wanted, thinking about all the mistakes in my life, as well as what I needed to do to fix things. Maybe I needed to do some bridge building.

  After breakfast the next morning, while Katie and I slept, Jimmy, Gunther, Stuart, and half a dozen others had driven out to Anezka’s place. Without knowing exactly where it was, they couldn’t find it. Something in the way Qindra had shielded it was stronger than the original seal that Flora had worked into the beams and structure. You drove right by it, seeing only an empty field.

  They’d picked up the Ducati when they figured they couldn’t find a way onto the property and spent the better part of the day contemplating how they could break through the barrier.

  Melanie had already filled them in on the ghosts, how Jean-Paul had come back, and the battle with the dwarves from her point of view.

  Katie and I filled in the rest, about Qindra, the house, the nexus, and even the shield, which surprised everyone.

  “I hate that she’s trapped in there,” I said after we’d run out of stories to tell.

  “She works for the other side,” Jimmy said. “Not like she’d cry over us.”

  Deidre threw a pillow at him. “Weren’t you listening? She did it to protect all of us.”

  He shrugged, stoic. He had a hard time seeing shades of gray. Everything with him was black and white.

  “And what about Anezka and your imp friend?” Deidre asked.

  I pulled the amulet from out of my shirt and slipped the chain over my head. “Not sure,” I said. “I could call him, but I’m not sure he’d come.”

  “Why don’t you give it a try? We can handle Anezka if she gets crazy.”

  Was worth a shot. “Okay.”

  I stood up, walked into the living room, and stood in front of the fireplace. With a fire burning, it might make him more comfortable. I sat cross-legged in front of the flames and held the amulet in my hands.

  “Bub,” I said quietly. “I need you.”

  Nothing.

  Jimmy snorted. “That was disappointing.”

  I thought about it, considering all I knew of the little pisher.

  “Hey, do we have any burritos or cheeseburgers?”

  Jimmy strolled into the kitchen and opened the freezer. “Couple of microwave burritos in here,” he said. “Both are bean.”

  “Nuke those puppies and let’s try this again.”

  In three and a half minutes, I had a steaming plate with burritos on it, covered in hot sauce. I held the amulet over the steam for a minute, and then whispered to it, holding it close.

  “Bub, I have burritos. Can you bring Anezka home now?”

  Again nothing. Deidre wheeled her chair back into the kitchen, and Jimmy slumped against the doorframe. Katie and Melanie were sitting on the couch chatting. They all assumed we were done.

  “Come on, Bub. We aren’t going to hurt her. Let us help. Don’t make me eat these burritos without you.”

  Crack. The air imploded, and Anezka crashed onto the coffee table, shaking, rambling incoherently, and naked.

  Katie and Melanie jumped up onto the couch, and Jimmy ran into the room.

  “Hang on,” I said. “Let’s be calm here.”

  Bub looked ready to fight. He was angry, smoking with the flames. I stayed seated, reached over, and slid the plate toward him. “Here, big guy. Eat something. Let the doctor see to Anezka.”

  He looked from me to the burrito
s, then to Anezka, pain on his scaly face. “Don’t hurt her,” he said quietly.

  “Promise,” I said with a smile. “We okay?”

  He nodded, and I turned to Anezka. She was totally out of it, past anything I’d seen from her.

  “Shock,” Melanie said, going to work. Jimmy grabbed a pack from behind the couch and handed it to Melanie. They kept serious medical equipment on-site ever since the big battle.

  Melanie got an IV into Anezka, and they lifted her onto the couch. Katie stood beside the couch, holding the IV bag while Jimmy went and pulled a stand out of the back room.

  “Let me sedate her,” Melanie said. “Then let’s get her to the back room.”

  “I can carry her,” Jimmy offered, and I looked over at Bub.

  “We okay?” I asked again.

  He nodded, still not touching the food.

  Once we had Anezka settled in the spare room, Bub ate the food. Then he told us how the moment he’d taken her from the house, she’d just collapsed like a rag doll.

  “Where do you go?” I asked. “Where did you take her?”

  “Sideways,” he said with a shrug. “Not the most pleasant place, but it’s not here.”

  “Maybe you can take me sometime,” I said, patting him on the claw.

  He looked at me, his eyes narrowed. I pulled my hand back and laughed. “Only if it’s okay with you.”

  He ate the plate before I could stop him, but then he agreed to stick with regular food after that.

  We arranged for him to stay here, sleeping in Anezka’s room for the time being. Melanie would arrange a nurse to come out and stay with them while she came around.

  “We’ll evaluate things then,” she said. “But I’m keeping her sedated for a day or so. She needs sleep as much as anything. Her numbers are good. Can’t vouch for her mental state, though.”

  “I got it,” Jimmy said. “She won’t hurt herself or anyone else.”

  “We should call Gunther,” I said. “He’ll want to be here when she wakes up.”

  Jimmy raised his eyebrows, sharing a look with Deidre. “That’s interesting.”

  “She likes him, is all. Maybe she’d consider him a friendly face, not a stranger.”

  “And how’s your friend Bub feel about him?”

  “He’s an honorable man,” Bub said from the hallway. “I would not begrudge his company, as long as he has her best interest at heart.”

  “Well, there you go,” Deidre said, smiling.

  “I’ve never thought of Gunther having a girl,” Katie said. “This could be life changing.”

  “Can you stay the night?” Jimmy asked.

  “I need to work tomorrow,” Katie said. “Kids need a teacher. They won’t understand all this.”

  “Can’t you get a sub?” Jimmy asked.

  She shook her head. “I need something normal.”

  I totally understood what she meant.

  “Sarah,” Katie said, pulling me out onto the porch. “Don’t go home. Stay with me tonight. Come to my place.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said, hugging her to me. “But I need to make a stop. I’ll follow on the bike. You head home.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “No. Not this.”

  She kissed me and went back into the house to say her good-byes. I grabbed my cell phone, helmet, and keys, and headed out.

  Sixty-five

  Once I crossed over onto 522, I pulled over to the breakdown lane and turned off the bike.

  I pulled out my cell phone and cycled through the numbers. There was one I’d only called once, back in the spring, but it was critical.

  It rang three times, and a young woman answered. “This is a private line. Who is this?”

  I explained who I was, got directions, and headed back onto the highway. There was something I needed to do, and I had to do it in person.

  After a twenty-minute ride, I pulled up to the gate and flipped up my faceplate. A guard stepped from the little shack and asked to see my ID. I showed my license, and he opened the gate.

  The bike ticked in the cold as I walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

  A young child, no more than six or seven, answered, bowing at me without saying a word, and turned to walk away.

  I followed quickly, making sure to shut the door. The place was huge. It had a giant marbled foyer with dark-paneled walls with paintings and statues every few feet. Great plants sat in the corners, and three women hurried away, their heads bowed.

  The waif escorted me to the end of the great entryway and stopped in front of two ornately carved doors. She knocked once, and then pushed the left door open, stepping inside.

  I followed.

  The room was dimly lit, not dank or dark, but quiet and calm.

  In one corner three women sat doing needlework, and a boy stood by a door that led to a veranda. An old woman sat in a rocker against the far wall. The room was larger than Jimmy’s house. Large enough for a dragon.

  “I know you,” the old woman said, her voice weak and shaky.

  I bowed. “Yes. We’ve spoken on the phone.”

  “Sit, child killer. What brings you to my home?”

  I could feel the power emanating from her. Despite her age, this was a formidable woman, a power to be reckoned with on many levels.

  “I bring you news,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Inside, my brain was screaming DRAGON! RUN! but I kept it together.

  “You are either very foolish or very desperate to come here,” Nidhogg said. “Which is it?

  “Heartsick,” I said. “I bear you news of Qindra.”

  Everyone in the room froze. I didn’t move my head but glanced around as far as I could see without moving. They were terrified. Would she rage like Jean-Paul had, killing his own troops? I had a feeling it had happened here before.

  “What do you know of my wayward servant?” Nidhogg asked. She was a paragon of calm, but I avoided looking into her eyes. That way lay madness.

  “She is alive,” I said quietly.

  As one, those in the room released their breath.

  “But in grave peril.”

  I spent the next hour answering questions, telling her the truth of the matter. I couldn’t lie to her. As soon as I opened my mouth, I knew she could smell deception. Besides, I’d come here to relay this news.

  “I see,” she said when I’d finished. She rocked for several long minutes; the only sound in the room was the clicking of knitting needles. My fingers itched, thinking of the rhythm. The young girl who had led me here sat at Nidhogg’s left, knitting. It reminded me of Unun, who waited for her grandson to return home.

  “And what do you propose?” Nidhogg asked.

  Here was a test. One that would let me walk away, or die at her feet.

  “I give you my word,” I said quietly, looking up into her face for the first time. “I will find a way to free her.”

  Nidhogg captured my eyes in her own and looked into me. I saw ancient sorrow there, pain and frustration. She was unfathomably ancient, yet a searing intelligence burned in her. And there were tears. Tears for Qindra.

  “I accept,” she said, nodding once. “Your life for hers. If you bring her home to me, I will consider your debt to me assuaged. If you fail, you and yours are forfeit unto me.”

  I bowed my head. “So mote it be.”

  Without another word, the young girl laid her knitting aside and led me back out of the house. I breathed the night air gratefully, as one does when the act had been given up as a lost cause.

  I climbed on the bike and drove through the opened gate.

  Maybe I’d stop and buy a bottle of mead. Something to celebrate with. Katie would love it.

  As I drove across the floating bridge to the eastside, I thought of what I wanted in life. How those quiet moments of talking to one another were the best moments, how we accomplished so much more with words than with swords.

  The dwarves had sent forth four bottles of mead. One lay tr
apped in the house with Qindra. Another went to Frederick. And the last two had gone to Dublin and Memphis. Why did I have a feeling they would come back to haunt me?

  That was a puzzle for another time. My heart was full of pain, and all I wanted was to get home to Katie and fall into bed.

  Tomorrow, maybe, I’d call my mother. If she had one tenth the sorrow I’d seen in Nidhogg, it would take a lifetime of work to assuage it all.

  That felt right. Mending those rifts. Gave me hope that I’d be a grown-up someday. And, if I was going to grow all the way up, I’d have to accept some other things.

  I’d give up my apartment. Julie could take over the lease until she got on her feet. Katie and I could find our own place. Someplace that was neither hers nor mine, but ours.

  And that seemed like the best thing in the world.

  Tor Books by J. A. Pitts

  Black Blade Blues

  Praise for J. A. Pitts’s Previous Novel,

  Black Blade Blues

  “A hip, urban take on dragons and dwarves packed with great one-liners like “Troll at two o’clock.” Add to that a sexy blacksmith in Doc Martens. It’s about time we had a fantasy heroine like Sarah Beauhall!”

  —Kay Kenyon, author of City Without End

  “There’s entertainment and romantic tension aplenty here.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Endlessly entertaining. A colliding mix of action and ancient myth—yet sexy, with a dash of tongue-in-cheek humor. Not to be missed!”

  —Barb and J. C. Hendee, authors of the Noble Dead saga

  “Black Blade Blues will delight readers seeking the thrill of fantasy amid the everyday reality of overdue bills, bad traffic, and ancient plots to overthrow the order of the world.”

  —Jay Lake, author of Green

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  HONEYED WORDS

  Copyright © 2011 by John A. Pitts

  All rights reserved.