Maefon shrugged.
Darkken twisted one of the rings on his finger. “I didn’t want to send the strange woman away immediately. I had a different plan.” Twisting in his chair, he asked, “Where did all of the other people go?”
“Calypsa brought in a swarm of rodents when we chatted.”
“I see.” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I didn’t want her to go just yet. Nath has lost enough people close to him in the last day. There’s no need to take them all away. It would make him suspicious.”
Maefon looked him in the eye. “It’s the same goal, with more than one way to get there.”
Darkken gave her an approving nod. “Touché. So, that is your plan, to just send her away, leaving Nath upset and distraught?”
“She isn’t gone, my dearest.” She patted his forearm. “We talked, and though I did convince her, I told her that she should not just leave without talking to Nath. I did put a lot of doubt in her head about her role in his future. They’ll sort it out in the room, and if she still decides to leave, it will be on him.”
“Bravo, my young seductress.” He took her hand in both of his and kissed it. “You know, you are ravishing when you are devious.”
“I know.”
“And if she does decide to stay?”
“I’m sure you have a perfect plan in place for her to die, but I would prefer to kill her myself.”
“If she leaves, she’ll seek out the bugbear, and that will stir up more trouble.” He kissed her hand one last time. “She’d need to be dealt with before that happens. Do you think you can handle that woodland minx? She’s not of the mortal sort.”
“I can handle it. Besides, I need the challenge.”
***
Nath tracked Calypsa to her room at the inn. She sat on the edge of the bed with her face buried in her hands, sobbing. Tears dripped between her fingers and dropped on the floor. Nath eased inside, closing the door behind him, and took a seat beside her. Softly, he said, “Caly, what is wrong?”
“I’m crying. Can’t you see? That is what is wrong. I don’t cry. I never cry. What is wrong with me?”
“I don’t think there is anything wrong with crying. It’s normal.”
She sniffed. “Do you cry?”
“Dragons don’t cry, but I hear that most women do.”
“I’m not a woman, I’m a dryad.”
“But part human too, right?” Nath grabbed a pillow and took the cotton case off. “Here, let me wipe those tears away.”
With his help, she wiped her eyes. Letting out a long, shuddering breath, she said, “I feel so foolish behaving like this. I don’t know what overtook me. I was angry and upset. That Maefon got under my skin.”
Nath put his arm around her waist. “What do you mean?”
“I am not meant to be with you. It’s just a silly dream. I really don’t know what overcame me when I chased after you. I could have died. How foolish!”
In Nath’s mind, he could understand Maefon’s point of view. If Maefon wanted Nath, then Calypsa would only get in the way. It would be best to get Calypsa out of the picture. But would Maefon really do such a thing? “Don’t listen to what Maefon has to say, Caly. I want you to stay. That is all that matters. I’ve parted with enough friends. I don’t want to part with any more.”
Sniffling, she stroked his cheek with her fingers. “You are sweet. The moment we met and I kissed you, I knew there was something special and different about you. My kisses would knock a man’s boots off, but you made me tingle. That’s never happened. Like I am a dryad, appearing as a human, you are a dragon, appearing as a man. Neither one of us is what we seem.” She laid her head on his chest. “We are not meant for one another, no matter how much I would wish it. I got caught up in my own fantasy. But when I met you, you brought out the good that was buried deep within me, and I’m thankful for that.”
“I’m glad, but what are you saying? Are you still leaving me?”
“You know in your heart that it is for the best. Your life has a different destiny than mine. A new path has been opened up for me. I adore you, and my heart splits to say this, but I must move on to the woodland, where I belong.”
“No, Caly. No!”
She placed her fingers on his lips. “Sh. Don’t make this any harder than it is. I must go. I need to find Rond. He was a true friend and very loyal to me. I know I’ve hurt him, and I have to make that right. Nath, I’m glad our paths crossed, and I’ll always cherish our time. Perhaps we will meet again. Dryads live a very, very long time, and I am still young.”
Nath crushed her in his arms. “I don’t want this to happen. You’re all that I have left.”
“Just be careful, Nath. You are traveling down a very dangerous path. I hope you find the answers that you seek.” She kissed him fully on the lips.
Tiny warm needles raced up Nath’s spine. Calypsa slipped out of his grasp and exited through the window. He moved on numb legs toward the window. Calypsa walked on the grasses toward the fields. Except her feet weren’t moving. The grasses under her feet seemed to be carrying her briskly into the farmlands, where she vanished into the cornfields. Nath wiped his eyes. “Dragons don’t cry, my behind.”
With a long face and feet as heavy as anvils, Nath headed back up on the terrace, where Darkken and Maefon were waiting. He slumped down in a chair. “She’s gone.”
Maefon rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry, Nath. Where did she go?”
He lifted his shoulders. “To find Rond.”
With a quick glance at Darkken, Maefon said, “I see.”
CHAPTER 44
After seeing the elves, Hacksaw continued to ride, moving farther upriver and taking casual glances behind him. There were four elves that he’d seen fishing back on the shoals, but in his gut, he knew there must have been more, waiting on him. He spied upriver as far as he could see. He scanned the trees left and right as he continued to puff on his pipe. His muscles tensed between his shoulders.
I knew those elves were rotten.
He played dumb when he passed the elves, acting as if everything was normal. He didn’t want to tip them off that he was on to them. His only advantage was his horse. Elves might be fleet of foot, but they couldn’t outrun a horse. The question was, assuming there were more elves, would they be upriver, waiting to cut him off? Were they watching him from the woodland now?
I need to warn Nath.
After decades of soldiering and training as a knight, Hacksaw had been imbued with a special sense of knowing good from evil. Evil, at its best, was often disguised as good. That was exactly what Darkken and Maefon had done. It was all as clear to him now as the beard on his face. There was no doubt. He thought of Darkken and Maefon. They wanted him out of sight, but they also knew that he would catch on. That’s why they had to kill him.
They have to kill me just in case I make a decision like this.
He pulled the reins and turned the horse around. He headed back down the river.
A howl of a baying wolf came from somewhere in the woods, echoing throughout the river valley. To his left, in the tree line, elves appeared within the branches. They wore black-leather armor. Huge black wolves with slavering jaws stood by their sides with their hackles up.
Hacksaw bit down on his pipe. He grumbled to himself. “Who needs horses when you have wolves.” He petted his horse on the neck. The mount was a riding horse, not meant for battle or racing. “I hate to do this to you, but I have no choice.” He kicked his heels into the horse’s ribs. “Eeyah!”
The horse bolted forward into a full gallop.
The wolves launched themselves after them.
Hacksaw sped his galloping horse down the riverbank. It was his best chance at survival, making a straight line, where the horse could outdistance the wolves. Taking to the woodland would be too risky. The wolves could snake their way through the foliage as quickly as the horse could. At the moment, Hacksaw had the advantage. The wind rushed by his ears as they stretched th
e distance, leaving the ravenous wolves behind them. He came upon a bend in the river where the shallow waters rushed over the rocks. Beyond the bend were the shoals where the other four elves were fishing. The question was, would they be expecting him or not?
The horse thundered around the bend. Hacksaw instantly saw the elves still standing on the shoals. Only one thing had changed. They no longer handled fishing rods. They had exchanged them for bows. “Kings of the River! I knew I should have brought my shield!” He kicked into the horse and pulled a spear from the sleeve and rode right at them. “Yah, beast! Yah!”
The elves took aim and fired. Arrows whistled through the air. Riding at them at a straight angle, the feather shafts whizzed by Hacksaw’s face. He knew the best defense was to go right at them. It made him and the horse a smaller target. The elves reloaded. He hurled his spear with all of his might. The shaft rocketed out of his hand and into an elf’s chest just as he notched an arrow.
“Ride the thunder! Ride the thunder!” Hacksaw bellowed. He snaked his sword, Green Tongue, out of its scabbard, a glowing line of green fire.
The last three elves fired the second volley as the horse and rider closed in.
Hacksaw chopped one arrow out of the sky. The second arrow missed, and a third hit the horse in the chest. “Don’t go down! Don’t go down! Avenge yourself!”
The horse thundered into the elves as they dived to the side. It trampled one of the elves underneath its powerful hooves and kept going. Hacksaw leaned over. He slashed at an elf crawling on hands and knees, sharp steel crossing the elf’s back. “Wahoo! That’s going to leave a mark!”
Without looking back, the horse and rider sped down the river. He’d made it. He pumped his sword in the air. “Yes!”
He came up on another bend in the river. With a glance behind him, he saw the wolves giving chase, followed by the elves. His horse labored and snorted. Hacksaw had ridden horses riddled with arrows before. The question was, could this horse make it all the way back to Advent without dying first? “Yah! Yah! Yah!” Horse hooves splashing through the water, he whipped around the bend in the river. Another half dozen elves and more wolves were waiting for him. The black-furred wolves came at him as if they were shot out of a crossbow.
Hacksaw pulled his horse to a halt and shouted a prayer, “Lords of Thunder, bless my steel one last time! Bless my gallant mount as well!” Hacksaw tightened his hands on the reins, hard leather biting into his palm. The horse snorted, reared up, and whinnied. Just as the first wave of wolves arrived, the horse came back down. Its hooves crushed a wolf beneath its weight. Hacksaw sang true, cleaving a wolf’s large head in the skull.
With his sword glowing as green as flame, he hacked back and forth. The shimmering green steel found purchase against fur, flesh, and bone. The wolves’ claws tore into the horse’s flanks. Jaws bit and nipped at the horse’s legs. The black wolves jumped at Hacksaw, knocking him loose in the saddle. He hung on, still swinging at anything that moved.
“Have at me, you mangy curs! Have at me!” Hacksaw chopped a wolf’s head off. He thrust, hacked, and swiped with an arm as heavy as lead. He fought on. His laboring horse, clawed up and bleeding, reared up on its back legs and fell backward. Hacksaw jumped aside, falling face-first into the shallow waters of the river. He burst out of the waters, up on his feet, sword ready. His horse lay nearby, dead. A wolf was crushed beneath it. No more wolves came upon him. Instead, he found himself inside a ring of dark elves. With cold, dead eyes as dark as their armor, they stared him down.
Hacksaw gulped for air. “Which one of you elven devils dies first?”
The snap of a bowstring introduced him to a world of pain. He dropped his sword in the water. An arrow stuck through his forearm.
“You fight like cowards,” he said, looking at the arrow sticking out of his arm. “Heh-heh.”
More elves had their bows drawn on him. The others brandished swords and daggers. They were solemn. The only thing that stirred in them was the wind against their fine elven hair.
“You don’t say much, do you? But I know you listen.”
The elves pulled back their bowstrings and took aim.
“It would be a shame if you missed,” Hacksaw said. At the same time, he saw his white pipe that had fallen into the shallow waters. He held two fingers up and pointed at it. “Let me die with one last guilty pleasure.”
One of the elves shrugged an eyebrow and lifted his pointed chin.
Slowly, Hacksaw, with his wounded arm and hand, reached into the water and grabbed his long-stemmed pipe. He poured the water out and put it in his mouth. He started sucking on the end of the water-soaked pipe. Smoke puffed out of the bowl. “My last and final guilty pleasure. I just wish I had one last swallow of Granda’s pumpkin cider.” Hacksaw blew more smoke. “And if I see you fiends again, I swear I’ll be ready to kill you.” He started puffing more smoke.
The elves’ narrowed eyes widened as they watched the smoke become thicker. Hacksaw let out a sharp whistle. The elves fired.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Arrow after arrow penetrated Hacksaw’s armor and went straight into his body. The arrows were like shards of fire running through him. He dropped to his knees, surrounded by smoke, and faded away while his blood mixed in the waters.
CHAPTER 45
It was a rainy day in Advent. The streets were sloppy with puddles, and the gutters were overfilled. Darkken and Maefon were in their room, discussing their future plans.
Darkken buttoned on his leather armor over his muscular chest. “The dryad won’t be easy to find, but with the help of Galtur, we should be able to guide you.”
Looking out of the window, she turned back to Darkken. “We?”
“You know what I mean.” He buckled on his sword belt. “Galtur and I are very close. He helps me keep an eye on things.” He walked across the room and kissed her forehead.
“Would I be able to connect with Galtur without using the Pool of Eversight?”
“Ah, well, that is up to you. It’s possible that you could master that. There is a spell for it. I could teach it to you.”
“So, you can connect with Galtur and use his sight as yours?” She gave him a quick smile.
“I didn’t say that, but possibly.”
“You love these games, don’t you?”
Darkken glowered at her. “Let’s be clear, I don’t love anything. I hate it all. As for you, quit worrying about me and worry about you. Ending the dryad will be a fine test. She possesses many witcheries that you are not accustomed to. Be ready for anything.”
Maefon had a slender sword belt with two daggers that she fastened around her hips. “It shouldn’t be too hard to kill someone that you hate.”
“Why do you hate her?”
“I guess my feelings for Nath run deeper than I admitted. I’m jealous. Are you?”
“Of the dryad? Don’t be absurd.” Darkken checked his hair in a mirror and ran his fingers through his rust-colored locks. “Perfect.”
“I was hoping to cause a stir in you,” she said, “but I guess it’s true that you don’t love anything. Not even me.”
“Love you? Don’t be silly. You are a fine servant, one of my very best, and though I will admit that I enjoy your company and warm affections, it doesn’t move me. I’m unflappable, not so easily charmed by those emotions that toss the races’ hearts to and fro like a storm. Emotion is weakness. Controlling emotion is power.” He clenched his fist. “True power.”
“Revenge moves you, does it not?”
“I suppose I could admit to that. It gives me drive. Purpose.”
Maefon kneeled, put on her boots, and laced them up. “You don’t love, but you do hate, right?”
Darkken looked up. “Interesting. I suppose that I do hate. I hate my father, who turned his back on me. But perhaps it’s his weakness that I hate, not him so much. After all, he is susceptible to emotion. I suppose I hate weakness. Feelings are weakness. They take control and
cause irrational behavior. That’s why I work so hard training the Caligin. I mold them into something stronger. Emotionless executioners. A beautiful creation, are they not?”
She rose. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Maefon, come back to me after this is over. Let’s make sure that we turn Nath together. I can use you for that.” He was still looking in the mirror. “And take a few Brothers of the Wind with you. At least one. I’ll need that one to keep me apprised, just in case you don’t make it back.”
Maefon’s heart sank as she departed the room. “Yes, Lord Darkken.” She went down the stairs to the main tavern floor. Hungry people crowded the inn, staying out of the morning rain. She spied Nath sitting at a table for two. He stared out of the window with a glum look on his face. She crossed the room and sat down beside him. “Good morning, Nath.”
He turned away from the window. “Oh, good morning.”
The table had an iron kettle of coffee and a cup that was full of rich-brown brew. Maefon looked at him “Not eating or drinking?”
“Or sleeping,” he said. “Sorry, Maefon. I’m just confused right now. I don’t mean to hurt you, but I cared for Calypsa, just like I care for you. It’s different, I suppose, but either way, I feel empty.”
“It’s not as if she is dead.” Yet. “I’m certain you will see her again.” Never. A waitress set down a coffee cup and filled it for Maefon. “Thank you,” Maefon said. “Listen, I’m confused too. Having you back in my life has changed me, Nath. Deeply. And with Darkken, well, it’s even more confusing. You’ve strummed up a lot of feelings in me. It’s been awful, but in a good way. So, I understand. Listen, just let things be, and we will sort it all out when I get back.”
“Get back?” Nath’s brows knitted together. “Where are you going?”
“We talked about this last night, briefly, but I am going with the Brothers of the Wind to monitor the caravan trails while you snoop around here with Darkken. I envy you, given the weather and all, but we will all meet up in the same place. We’ll sniff out the Caligin hideout.”
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