Protected by Emeralds (A Dance with Destiny Book 5)

by JK Ensley

  Izaru smiled coolly as he took the proffered payment and stepped aside. He inclined his head mockingly, waving his hand toward the stilled, bloodied mess of a woman.

  “She’s all yours.”

  Duhrias furrowed his brow in disgust. “What is this?”

  “The package your Lord eagerly awaits.”

  “But… this is a woman.”

  “Yes, glad you can still tell. Best get her down though. Doesn’t look like she’ll be too long for this world, if you do not.”

  Izaru snorted out a cold laugh as he began counting the clinking gold.

  Jenevier’s chest heaved as she reflexively coughed up more blood. The sight horrified the sell-sword. He ran to her, lifting her mangled form, relieving the weight upon her wrists, the strain upon her lungs.

  Her eyes flew open as she sucked in a full breath, pain and fear obvious within the magical pink. She struggled briefly before relinquishing consciousness once more.

  “What have you done?” Duhrias turned to face the white-haired devil still counting his money. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Izaru casually shrugged his shoulders. “She refused to cooperate.”

  The two guards had entered, laughing at the sight of their recent handiwork.

  “Yeah, she’s full of spit and fire, that one,” the first guard said. “A bit of a handful.”

  “More like, two hands full,” the other added, holding up both fists.

  Duhrias spoke not another word as he made his way to the exit, arms laden with what he was all but certain was a dead woman.

  “Make sure you hurry now,” Izaru called out to him. “Akio has been wanting to get his hands on her since the moment they first met. I am all but certain he would rather claim her while she yet breathes. That is… unless he is more like his little brother than we yet know. Perhaps such things run in the family.”

  The two guards joined Izaru in his vile laughter.

  Duhrias’s shoulder muscles reflexively stiffened, but his steps did not falter. Mounting his waiting steed with the girl still in his arms, he made his way back to the Northern hills.

  *****

  “Cherie, bring me water. And lots of it.”

  The girl only gaped for a moment before running off to fulfill Duhrias’s command. He laid Jenevier across the small bed and had only just finished undressing her when the water arrived.

  “Good. That’s good, Cherie. Now I need you to heat some. Oh, and bring the apothecary box when you come back.”

  He tried giving Jenevier a drink, but she didn’t respond. After gently washing the blood and sweat and grime away, Duhrias tried to assess her horrific injuries.

  “Wow… What happened to her?” Cherie asked upon her return.

  He glanced up at the gaping young woman. “A lovely creature such as yourself should not mar her delicate eyes with a scene as bloody as this one. Run along, girl. I’ll shout if I can’t handle it.”

  “But, Duhrias… look at her sides.”

  His gaze went to the spot the girl was pointing to. “That’s only ink, sweet Cherie. The damage lies here.” He gently ran the tips of his calloused fingers along the outline of her ribcage and across her stomach.

  The places I could not cover her, Nilakanta thought. Naga. Kagi Naga. I demand you open your eyes this instant.

  She gave him no response, mentally or physically.

  “What do you mean, ink?” Cherie asked.

  “Look here, tiny goddess.”

  The sell-sword pulled back some of the curls matted to her filthy skin, revealing the Dragon’s head upon her chest.

  “…Wow,” Cherie whispered.

  “Wow is right, little one. It seems this broken little angel is painted up prettier than one of your uncle’s masterpieces.”

  “I should say so.”

  The girl traced the outline of Jenevier’s new tattoo with her dainty fingertips.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Duhrias whispered.

  “I’ve never seen anything quite like it before.”

  “Nor have I.” He sighed. “She is definitely a rarity. That’s for sure.”

  “A beautiful rarity,” Cherie whispered as she pulled Jenevier’s sapphire curl from the matted mess.

  “Yes, an enchantingly beautiful rarity, as are all women.”

  Cherie giggled. “You even say that to the plain ones in town.”

  Duhrias glanced up at the smiling girl. “That’s because all women are treasures, lovely lady. Name one thing that could surpass them.” He continued to clean away the dried blood. “So fantastical a creature… women can create life inside their own bellies. They can kiss the pain right out of a scraped knee, and can easily sing away horrors in the dark of night. A woman can kill you with a look, heal you with a smile, and claim your very soul with but a glance.”

  He squeezed warm water out the length of Jenevier’s arm and began gently washing her there. The girl gazed at their unconscious guest, waiting for his words to continue.

  “Now, Cherie, tell me. What other creature can boast such a claim? What other living thing can love so fiercely it hurts, and weep so bitterly it finally heals?” He smiled at the girl. “None, I tell you. When the gods made woman… they stopped. Nothing could surpass her. So they simply folded their hands and bowed before her. A woman, all women, are heavenly perfection.”

  “Saying things like that is what makes all the women fall in love with you, Duhrias.”

  He chuckled softly. “Ahh, love—the shining star in a woman’s crown. So glorious… nothing can compare.”

  He winked at the young girl and she giggled again.

  “You make it all sound so amazing, Duhrias. I want to fall in love like that someday.”

  Duhrias had finished cleaning Jenevier and was now tending to her many wounds.

  “What do you mean, lovely girl?” He smiled teasingly. “I thought you had already fallen in love with me.”

  “Ooh, you don’t count, Duhrias. All the girls love you.”

  “All of them, huh? I believe you are stretching it just a bit, don’t you?”

  “No. They all swoon and give you that dreamy-eyed look.”

  He chuckled when she made a face and rolled her eyes around.

  She sighed. “I want to find that one special one… just for me.”

  Duhrias smiled at her, but there was a lonesome sadness in his beautiful green eyes.

  *****

  She heard what could only be described as a symphony of crickets, then the eerie song of competing toads joined in. Jenevier smiled, but it hurt.

  Staring at the aged wooden-beamed ceiling, she laid perfectly still, taking in her unfamiliar surroundings by sound alone.

  Ah, little one, you stir, Nilakanta said. Long have I missed your thoughts, even the twisted ones.

  She chuckled, but it made her cough. And the coughing… now that was an eye-opener. Pain wracked her body, nearly every inch of it. She couldn’t even cry out. The scratchy noise barely falling from her parched lips was more akin to dried bones grinding against one another.

  Holy hell… what happened to me? Her cloudy thoughts swirled.

  Forgive me, Kagi Naga. You suffered through the Dragon Fire to receive me. Yet once inside, I still failed to protect you. No matter your words… my grief over this truth will know no end.

  She did not speak. She did not think. Jenevier only concentrated on breathing. Trying to gauge how deep a breath she could take to get enough oxygen, but shallow enough to keep the stabbing pain at bay.

  They broke a few of your ribs, Naga, the Dragon whispered in her mind.

  A blow I look forward to returning in the near future, she thought.

  “Wow… Look at that.”

  Jenevier heard the young woman’s voice, but the speaker stayed within the shadows.

  “Her eyes are pink. Have you ever seen pink eyes before?”

  No one responded to the girl and Jenevier couldn’t sense anyone else in the room. She slowly lifted her h
and, sliding it up her bare chest to her desiccated throat.

  “Oh, I bet she’s thirsty. I’ll go get some fresh water,” the woman happily chirped.

  Jenevier felt tiny fingers close around her cold toes.

  “Hang on just a bit. I’ll be right back,” the sweet voice assured.

  She tried to smile with the side of her mouth that didn’t hurt too badly. She failed.

  Why am I naked? I chill, Nilakanta.

  Your chills come from the fever, Naga. You may believe you are freezing, but you burn, little one.

  She carefully ran her arms across her belly, hugging herself for warmth. The action caused several sharp pains, but she did her best to ignore them… until her teeth started chattering. The tiny movements sent shocks of agony through her jaw and straight into her head. It brought to mind what a nail must feel like when a hammer makes contact with its head, driving it through the splintering wood.

  H-ho-oo-lee-ee h-hell-ll-ll, ran through her mind.

  Naga. Holy hell? Now… how is that even possible, tiny Guardian? he teased.

  S-sh-shut i-it-t-t, D-Dr-ag-gon-n-n.

  Nilakanta chuckled. How can your words shiver in your thoughts? Is your brain chattering as well?

  “Sh-sh-sh.” She tried to speak, but then felt the cool glass touch her lips.

  “Here you go, now,” the girl said. “Oops. Not too much too soon. You’ll get sick.” The young woman tsked and removed the glass. “Enough is as good as a feast, they say.”

  “I am c-c-co-oo-ld-d,” she rasped.

  “Freezing, are ya? You’ve been on fire all day. Mayhap your fever’s close to breaking.”

  Jenevier felt the thin blanket sliding up her body. When it reached her shoulders, she curled up on her side, crying out from the pain of the action. Yet she remained there—in as small a ball as she could stand, covers hugged tight against her.

  “Wow… Would you look at that, now?”

  She heard the girl’s amazed words only a heartbeat before she felt the icy fingertips lightly touching her back. She flinched, causing the girl to jerk her hand back, but not for long. Jenevier simply bit her lip and suffered through the freezing, curious exploration.

  Her touch is warm, Naga… physically and mentally.

  Yes. I am sure I will grow to appreciate it in time. As for now, it’s like overeager needles.

  She lay perfectly still, listening to the girl’s amazed chatter blending in with the constant chirps and croaks just outside the window. Eventually, blessed sleep finally claimed her.

  Chapter 17

  Cherie

  (CHAIR-ee)

  Naga, wake up. That nice lady has brought you some warm soup. Please, Naga. Please sit up and eat.

  “Come, Milady. I’ve brought you some warm rice porridge. It won’t be hard on your throat or your tummy. And… it’s yummy sweet and good for you,” she sang happily.

  Jenevier half smiled and turned to look at the young woman for the first time.

  “There you are, Milady.” Her lovely smile lit up her even lovelier face. “Wow. This is the first time I’ve seen your eyes in the sunlight. They sparkle like crystal roses.”

  Jenevier tried to use her elbows to prop up, but she was as weak as a kitten.

  “Here, let me.”

  The girl helped her sit and piled pillows behind her.

  “Gratitude,” Jenevier rasped.

  “Not at all.” The girl smiled again. “Now, a bit of a drink. Yeah, that’s good. Just enough to wet your whistle. Very good. Now for some okayu, it’s delicious.”

  “Okayu?”

  “Yep, rice porridge,” the girl chirped. “You’re supposed to season it with salt and other things. But I made yours with lots of butter and white sugar. I mean, it’s not like we have to worry about you getting fat, now do we? I can easily count every rib in your tiny little body. I feared you’d soon fade away if you didn’t wake. You need some energy, Milady. And this will fix you right up.” She popped a heaping spoonful in Jenevier’s mouth as she talked. “How’s that taste?”

  She nodded her head with approval and tried to smile.

  “There are so many things I want to ask you, Miss.”

  The curious young lady continued to talk while she slowly fed the shaky woman with the amazing Dragon ink covering most of her tiny body.

  “Like… how in the world did you get in this shape? And, how is it you lived through it? I mean, I’m overjoyed that you did, don’t get me wrong. But I should dare say. There were a few days… we weren’t so sure you would.”

  “I was chained and beaten,” Jenevier whispered, looking down at her stomach, gently touching the dark bruises with trembling hands.

  The girl froze, laden spoon hovering in the air. “Yeah… I guessed that much,” she said softly. “By the cuts on your wrists and the damage to your ribs.”

  Jenevier glanced at her bandaged wrists. “Gratitude for your kindness. When I am healed, I will return the favor with interest.”

  “There’ll be no need in that, Milady. It was my honor.” Cherie stirred the cool spoonful of porridge back into the bowl before delivering the next mouthful. “Is that all you can remember? Do you know who did this?”

  Jenevier’s gaze blindly locked onto a spot on the opposite wall as the harrowing memory played out in her mind. Tears burned the backs of her eyes.

  “Yes. I know who did it. And I know why… sort of. Alas, he was not the one to land the blows. He gave the order only. Perhaps he does not have the stomach for the dirty bits.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “As for my torturers, they were soldiers. Apart from that, all I can recall is the feeling of knuckles colliding with my body, connecting with my bones.” Her voice grew fainter as her memory grew darker. “They were impressed I did not scream. In truth, the first blow removed my air, rendering that particular action all but impossible.” A single tear escaped her unblinking eyes. “But I screamed on the inside,” she whispered. “Screamed and cursed and cried.”

  Jenevier drew in a deep breath, but the action sent pain ripping through her chest. She exhaled slowly and leaned back against the many pillows, closing her burning eyes, sending the gathered tears back to soak into her tangled curls.

  “I lost consciousness. I know not if they continued in their demented task.” She paused, slowly opening her eyes, staring at the beamed rafters above her. “The next thing I can remember was… dimples.”

  “Dimples?”

  Jenevier barely shrugged her shoulders. “I am certain I must have been dreaming. Yet… I cannot recall ever having seen dimples the likes of those. They were constant and perfect. I remember wanting to touch them, wanting to see if they deepened when the person smiled.”

  The girl covered her mouth, muffling a giggle, causing Jenevier to glance sideways at the pretty young woman.

  “What is your name, child?”

  The girl’s eyes widened. “Oh, apologies. I’m being so rude today.” She blushed, but giggled again as well. “I’m Cherie, like the tree. Cherry Blossom is what the older folks call me. I’m just plain old Cherie to my friends, though.”

  It was Jenevier’s turn to giggle, even though it was painful. “I have been called that myself while visiting this realm. It must be your people’s favorite thing.” She paused slightly. “I can see why. They are breathtaking.”

  The girl gasped. “I knew it,” she said, beaming from ear to ear. “I knew you weren’t from here. Are you a Spirit? A goddess? A watcher of some kind—like a Guardian, or a Grigori?”

  Jenevier only closed her eyes, softly smiling, barely shaking her head.

  Cherie took her action as what it was—a halt to questions she obviously did not want to answer. She waited a quiet moment before she continued.

  “So, Milady… someone named you Cherie as well?”

  “No. You are the only Cherie I have ever met.” Jenevier partially opened her eyes to see the girl’s smiling face. “No… a friend of mine, Suou… he named me when I could not name myse
lf. He called me Sakura, Sakura Mankai. But that is not my true name. Alas, he was adamant about using it. Said it suited me better than the name Father gave me.”

  When silence fell over the room, when all the many curious questions suddenly ceased, Jenevier opened her eyes and found the girl standing by the bed, an unreadable look upon her face.

  “What is it, child? Did I frighten you?”

  The girl waited a couple more heartbeats before slowly shaking her head. Jenevier furrowed her brow and continued to stare at the girl, waiting for her to break the strange silence.

  Cherie cleared her throat. “Umm… why would your friend feel the need to name you? Why couldn’t you name yourself?”

  “Strangely enough…” Jenevier held the girl’s questioning gaze. “…I was in nearly the same shape I am now. I was injured and he tended to me. Much the same as you now do, Cherie. Yet, he wasn’t nearly as lovely, nor did he feed me sweet rice porridge.”

  The girl’s tense muscles slowly relaxed. Jenevier smiled.

  “Alas… I was unconscious for days. He named me Sakura while I was yet without voice.”

  “So what’s your true name, then? What name were you given he felt didn’t suit you?”

  “My name is Naga, Kagi Naga.”

  A muffled laugh came from the far corner of the room. Cherie nervously glanced toward the shadows and then back to Jenevier.

  “In truth, Milady,” she quickly said. “I think that name suits you perfectly. You are the very embodiment of a fire lizard, if ever I saw one.”

  Jenevier only vaguely heard the girl. She was busy trying to sense who else was in the room, who was hiding in the shadows.

  Can you feel them?

  No, Naga. I would have sworn we were alone, Nilakanta answered. It’s nice to have you back, little one. I was lonely in here without you.

  A tiny smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. I missed you, too, Brother.

  Her attention was pulled back to the girl when she felt the gentle squeeze upon her hand.

  “Naga? Are you listening to me?” Cherie was saying.