Blood of Stone: A Shattered Magic Novel (Stone Blood Book 1)

by Jayne Faith

  I chuckled under my breath. Thank you, Maxen.

  “Not going to spill your secrets?” she asked. “Or a hint about who might have helped you?”

  “What?” I put on a look of mock outrage. “You think I needed help? That I couldn’t have accomplished such badass feats on my own?”

  She gave me a wry smile and a little shrug.

  “Ah. Now I see how it is.” I pulled a mock-sullen look, and she snorted.

  My mood sobered as we arrived at the fortress jail.

  Patrick was gone, replaced by a woman whose name was Nanette, according to the plaque on the desk. She had a grandmotherly appearance—soft rounded shoulders, her gray hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and readers perched on the middle of her nose. She had the crazy-long lashes of a Sylph, but otherwise looked like she had three-quarters New Garg blood, if I had to guess. I gave her a little salute.

  “I’m here with my official representative of the High Court, who will accompany me with the prisoner and ensure I don’t talk mean to tape kick-me signs on the back of the woman who tried to murder me in the void,” I said.

  Nanette raised one brow at me, apparently not amused, and peered at Emmaline over her glasses. “Your credentials, honey?”

  Emmaline poked and swiped at her tablet and then turned it around so Nanette could see.

  “All right, then,” the jail attendant said. She moved her glasses farther up her nose, picked up a tablet, and started reading from it in a monotone.

  “The prisoner Bryna no last name given is hereby released into the custody of her accuser and an official representative of the High Court for the purpose of fulfilling the oath-bound agreement between the accuser and the accused. The prisoner Bryna no last name given will be released bodily and all charges dropped upon the fulfillment of said agreement, the terms of which are known only to the accused and the accuser. Do you, the accuser, understand?”

  She looked up at me. I nodded.

  “Sign.” She thrust the tablet at me.

  I signed. A few minutes later, we were leaving the fortress jail with Bryna, who looked like a lost fairy-tale princess in her torn and stained gown, frizzed hair, and smudged makeup. She put her charmed jewelry back on as we walked. Not that they’d do any good against my shadowsteel magic. Her eyes were a little glassy, courtesy of the spell.

  Bryna slowed and then stopped to lean against the wall for balance and put on her heels, which she’d been carrying. She fumbled with them a little, her fingers clumsy.

  Emmaline peered at her and then shot me a sharp look. “You spelled her?” she whispered.

  I lifted my hands innocently. “Is that not allowed?”

  Emmaline touched the back of her hand to her forehead and then let it drop. “I’m going to have to report that.”

  “Do what you gotta do,” I said mildly. I had no regrets about using the spell.

  She let out a low sound of disapproval as she recorded something on her tablet. “What kind of magic?”

  “Just a wee bit of shadowsteel blood magic.” I held out my hand with my thumb and forefinger pinched together to leave only a sliver of space between them. “Teensy.”

  She looked up long enough to give me a withering look.

  Bryna stumbled toward us like she’d had one too many drinks. When her heel slid off the side of her shoe, she nearly went down. “My shoes. They don’t want to stay on my feet.”

  I made a strangled noise in my throat. “Okay, this isn’t going to work. We need to get some real shoes for her.”

  Emmaline shrugged. “I can’t leave the two of you alone.”

  I fought the temptation to yank at my hair. “I’ll go get her some shoes.”

  I took off at a run toward my apartment. At the door, I gave a warning knock, waited a second, and then opened the door. Maxen and Nicole were sitting in the living room area, she on the sofa with her feet curled up and he in the easy chair. In spite of my warning, they both jumped about a foot when I came in.

  “Just need some shoes,” I said, and beelined to the bedroom. I found some of my old Chuck Taylors from when I was in high school.

  “I’ll check in with you later,” I said to Nicole as I hurried back out the door. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she was nervously playing with her honey-colored hair as she watched me rush in and out. I started to close the door behind me but then opened it up again and looked at Maxen. “I’ll be checking in with you, too, Lord Lothlorien.”

  His brows rose, and he blinked a couple of times but didn’t have a chance to respond before I was gone.

  I caught up with Emmaline and Bryna, and as soon as our Duergar charge had my Chuck Taylors tied onto her feet, we were off again toward the nearest doorway, which was located in an interior courtyard. We stood in front of the arched alcove.

  “Okay, Bryna, you’re on,” I said. “Where do we go to find Van Zant?”

  Her face hardened, her eyes tight. She shot me an insolent look, but when she opened her mouth to speak, no words came. Instead, she gasped and her eyes widened. Her fingers flew to her neck.

  I leaned in so I could speak in her ear. “I suggest you cooperate, if you enjoy having your head attached to your body.”

  She swallowed hard and blinked a couple of times and then drew a deep breath and let it out. The defiance had drained from her face.

  “He’s in my room.” She turned her glassy gaze on me. “My quarters in the Duergar palace.”

  I smacked the heel of my hand against my forehead. Great. Back into the lion’s den.

  Chapter 22

  “THERE’S A DOORWAY very near my quarters,” Bryna said. She blinked slowly as she spoke, as if for her everything was moving in slow motion.

  She kept talking, the shadowsteel magic encouraging her to offer up more information than she normally would have. “That’s why I chose those rooms. I like to be able to come and go eeeasily. I do it aaall the time,” she said, starting to draw out vowel sounds.

  I grimaced. “I bet.”

  “Won’t that drop us right in the middle of things?” Emmaline asked me.

  “Yeah. But the alternative is wasting time trying to get in and sneak to her rooms. And at this point it’s broad daylight, and I’m public enemy number one on Periclase’s list. That’s a bad combo for getting around unnoticed.”

  We both looked at Bryna.

  “We need to go in without getting caught. Our oath was binding,” I reminded her. “You get released only if you lead me to Van Zant and I make it through a doorway with him.”

  “This is the best way. Reeeally,” she drawled.

  I started to wonder if I’d used too much magic, and I had a bad feeling about using the doorway Bryna spoke of. But I didn’t have time to waste. Marisol’s deadline for turning in my mark and getting back to the fortress aligned with what my boss had told me—basically, I had a couple more hours to finish the job. If I didn’t, I’d lose my chance at the Van Zant bounty and its big payout. He’d still be loose and dealing VAMP3 blood, endangering Maeve-only-knew how many people. I’d be penalized by the Guild for failing to complete an assignment on deadline, by getting slapped with at least a month-long probation—an unpaid time-out from work at the Guild—guaranteeing I’d make no bounty money for that time. The exclusive mercenary contracts with the Guild, combined with the penalty periods for failing an assignment, kept us mercs hamstrung and very motivated to do our jobs. That gap in income would sink me. I’d have to keep pursuing Van Zant if his bounty got re-assigned to another merc, just to ease my conscience, but I wasn’t in a financial position to be doing charity work.

  Sure, I could try to pick up other types of freelance work, but they all paid worse than Guild jobs, and most didn’t offer steady employment. That was why the Guild could be so ruthless with their terms. I was already behind on my part of the rent, and Lochlyn had just lost her own job. If we got evicted, I’d have no choice. I’d have to move back into the stone fortress.

  A cringing shiver wo
rked its way up my spine at the thought of being in the fortress permanently. As a full-time, resource-consuming resident, I’d have to pull my weight. That meant doing whatever job Marisol chose to assign me. I wouldn’t have time to keep up with Guild work in addition to a fortress job and acting as Nicole’s new BFF.

  But far worse than all of that, I’d betray the oath I’d made to myself. To my dead mother. I’d sworn to dedicate my life to working as a vamp hunter for the Guild. In the fortress, my vamp hunting days would come to an end.

  No. Just, no.

  I had to get this job done, and I had to do it before time ran out.

  I gestured at Bryna. “You’ll have to take us to the doorway near your quarters.”

  She gave a docile nod. Emmaline and I stood on either side of Bryna, each with a hand on one of her shoulders, while she traced the sigils and whispered the words to take us into the Duergar palace. Just before we went into the netherwhere, I drew Mort.

  We came out into darkness, and my heart jolted with alarm. It took me a second to realize we were standing in a tiny, dark room. I lowered my sword.

  “Thisss is the movie house,” Bryna said, leading us out of what appeared to be an exit vestibule into a larger room.

  Emmaline let out a nervous giggle at Bryna’s slurring.

  I could make out the faint white glow of the projection screen on the wall to the right, and the regularly-spaced lumps of theater seating to the left.

  “Odd place for a doorway,” I mumbled.

  “Yeah.” Bryna let out a sigh. “But it’s good ‘cause not many here know about this one.”

  “Which way to Van Zant?” I asked, shifting my weight to my toes, impatient to get on with it.

  She lifted an arm to wave at the back of the theater. “We go that way.”

  She drifted ahead of us up the aisle that split the seats, but when she went to push the bar release on one double door, I grabbed her arm to stop her.

  “Stay quiet,” I said and moved in front of her.

  I sheathed Mort. Carefully and slowly, I pushed the door open an inch and peered through the gap. A couple of Duergar guards strode by, and I froze, nearly letting the door fall shut. More Duergar passed by. I watched for a few more seconds.

  I swore silently and let the door click closed. This corridor was a main thoroughfare. We couldn’t just stroll out there. By now, all of the Duergar realm knew that Bryna was being held by the New Gargoyles, so they’d be sure to take notice if she suddenly appeared in the palace. And my face was probably plastered all over the palace alerts after swiping Nicole from Periclase.

  “Any other way out of here?” I asked. “Maybe one that’s less busy?”

  “Nuh-uh,” Bryna said.

  “Well, how far is it?” I asked, irritated.

  “Oh, ‘bout a hundred feet down the hall. Then turn left. Then up the stairs. Then turn left. Then right.”

  “There was an exit sign back where we came in,” I said. “Where does that go?”

  Bryna let out a tiny, airy laugh. “Nowhere. It’s just for looks.”

  I was about ready to punch something.

  “Fine. Then we’re just going to have to walk right out there and take our chances.” I wrapped my hand around Bryna’s elbow and squeezed.

  “Ow,” she protested.

  “If I get caught before I can get out with Van Zant, you’re screwed,” I reminded her. “I’ll make sure the Stone Order files charges against you in the High Court. What do you think the punishment will be for sending a wraith into the netherwhere to kill me?”

  My hand was poised on the door, ready to push it open.

  “Wait,” Emmaline said. “Isn’t there a secret passage nearby? I could swear there was a passageway near here.”

  Bryna stared at her dumbly for a second and then rolled her eyes with a stupid grin. “Yes! Silly me. It’s across the hall in the powder room. Last stall.”

  All I could do was shake my head at her.

  “Good work,” I breathed at Emmaline.

  We waited for a small gap in the corridor activity and then stole across the hallway and through the women’s bathroom door and hurried to the back. Inside the stall, Bryna pressed a couple of the wall tiles and a low, narrow door with seams that had blended invisibly popped open.

  She seemed to move more purposefully as she led us into the secret passage. It was a dark, narrow space in between the walls, and it broke off into branches so many times I had no idea how Bryna managed to keep us on track. We walked single file with me in the middle. I carried Mort in my hand, not that it would do much good if I actually needed to use it. The space was way too tight to wield a broadsword. Not even enough room to put it back in my scabbard.

  With a glance over her shoulder at me, Bryna whispered, “We’ll come out close to my front door. Just a short hop to my quarters.”

  She sounded confident, and I started to think we might be in the clear. That turned out to be a mistake.

  We reached the end of a corridor, and Bryna stopped. There was a tiny bit of light coming from random pinholes punched in the walls. I watched as she slid her fingers over a catch I couldn’t see, and there was a soft click. A narrow vertical strip of light appeared. She pushed, and the space widened another inch.

  “This should be easy,” she whispered. “It’s just right over—”

  The door jerked open suddenly, and a hand reached in and grabbed her arm, yanking her out. She shrieked and then snarled. Temporarily blinded after our journey through the dark passage, it took me a split second to realize there was a crowd of Duergar guards waiting for us. I didn’t even have time to utter the curses that sprang to my mind.

  My pulse jolted, and I leapt out, drawing magic and swinging Mort. It took them by surprise, and a few of them stumbled back a step or two as my violet magic licked at them like razor-edged flames.

  Bryna bared her teeth and snapped at the guard holding her, the docility caused by my spell seeming to dissolve away in an instant. Her mouth came away bloody, and the guard let go of her and clamped his hand over his bloody wrist. She tried to lunge away, but another guard grabbed at her hair and caught a handful of it. She furiously twisted around and kicked at him.

  I kept advancing with wide slashes, glancing out of the corner of my eye at the door Bryna had been heading toward. I wanted to look back to see if Emmaline had managed to retreat, but I couldn’t give the guards the opening.

  The guards were backing up and reaching for their magi-zappers. I deflected one stream of magic with Mort, the force of it traveling up into my arm and jarring me to my bones. Gritting my teeth against the foreign magic meant to incapacitate, I managed to neutralize it just as another bolt sprang at my chest. I absorbed it, too, and then whipped around to meet an attack. Mort crashed against the short sword of a guard who towered over me. When he raised his arm to try to redirect his strike, I darted under it.

  I danced to the side, trying to find an opening through which I could get to Bryna. I had to hand it to her. She was doing a hell of a job fending off a couple of guards using only her teeth and claws. Perhaps because she was Periclase’s daughter, they didn’t turn their stunners on her. She was surely going to catch serious hell later for helping me. The guards had no problem blasting me, and my eyes were just about crossed from taking partial hits.

  Emmaline had vanished, most likely having retreated back into the secret passages where she could elude the guards. She seemed to know the palace well, and I trusted she could take care of herself.

  “Petra!” called Bryna, sounding strangled through the gnashing of her teeth.

  I glanced over my shoulder just as she shoved her foot into a guard’s groin. She whipped around and threw herself at the door. It opened under her influence, and I backed my way toward it and slipped through. She slammed it shut.

  For a second or two we stood inside Bryna’s quarters staring at each other, our chests heaving. The door shook as the guards pounded on it.

  “
They’ll have to go through administrative channels to get in here, but it won’t take long.” The fight seemed to have sharpened Bryna’s senses.

  I turned a full circle. “Where the hell is Van Zant?”

  Turning on her heel, she went into the bedroom, and I pulled out the bounty card with my free hand and tightened my grip on Mort.

  When she came back out, she was carrying a white box with string tied around it. “Is that his box of eyeliner and cologne, or what?” I peered past her, looking for the vamp.

  She held out the box. “This is Van Zant.”

  I stared at it and then looked up at her. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “He’s dead,” she said. “Last night.”

  A strange mix of sadness and consternation passed over her face.

  The pounding at the door was getting more violent.

  I sheathed Mort and then shoved my fingers into my hair and yanked. Why did this shit have to happen to me? With a dead mark, I’d only get ten percent of the bounty.

  “So that’s—?”

  “His ashes,” she supplied. She thrust the box at me. “A promise is a promise. His remains don’t do me any good, anyway. You can get out through the passage in my closet.”

  I shook my head and finally snatched the stupid box from her.

  “How in the name of Oberon did this happen?” I had to know, in spite of the seconds ticking by.

  She shook her head slowly. “Some kind of strange attack. Little guys with poisonous knives.”

  “The servitors? The same small beings that attacked me and Jasper yesterday?” I wouldn’t have guessed that the ninjas’ knives could take down a vamp. There wasn’t much in the world that could do that.

  She frowned, clearly not sure what I was talking about.

  I waved a hand, brushing off her confusion. “Where did it happen?”

  “Spriggan kingdom.”

  I filed that away. “Okay, where’s my exit?”