The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1)

by Michael J Sanford

  Adelaide broke the silence, pulling Jaydan and Alexander toward the city, and saying, “Now you can buy me new clothes, Alexander. And maybe we can get something clean for Tannyl.”

  Tannyl remained silent, but Sachihiro could see rage simmering behind his emerald eyes. He felt for the elf. Tannyl was clearly out of his element, not just being in a place like this, but for having been stuck with a group of younger charges. And Adelaide, whatever she was. Sachihiro knew that Tannyl had promised Fae’Na to watch over him and Jaydan when they first left Woodhaerst, but she was dead now, as was the rest of the village. He had fully expected the elf to disappear into the forest at the first opportunity. He was, by all accounts, a loner. Why was he still here?

  “All right, we can try, Addy,” Alexander was saying as Sachihiro caught up to the trio. “But I don’t have much to barter with. We may not be able to get much.”

  “Hey, what’s wrong with the dress I made you?”

  She didn’t even bother to turn. “It smells awful and fits worse. I would trade it if I thought it was worth anything. It would be best to burn it.”

  Sachihiro felt as if he had been stabbed in the back. And then the front. And then the back again. It took a moment to catch his breath. “I worked hard on that. You should appreciate it.”

  “Well, I don’t,” she said sharply. “A lady does not wear… this.”

  He thought to argue, but they crossed into the city and were enveloped by a crowd that seemed to appear all at once. They milled about, unconcerned by the new arrivals, each going about their own business. Most were elves, but he saw a smattering of others races as well: gnomes and humans to be sure, and many more he could not identify. A horned woman winked at him as she walked past. Sachihiro winked back and turned to watch her glide away.

  “I told you we should have left her,” Tannyl said, nudging Sachihiro forward again and falling into lockstep at his side. He had never seen the elf appear so… unsettled. If Sachihiro didn’t know any better he would have thought Tannyl was staying close to him for shelter.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, unable to stop himself. “I’ll protect you from all these friendly people.”

  Tannyl elbowed him sharply in the ribs, but made no effort to leave his side. In fact, he seemed to draw nearer.

  Sachihiro laughed off the pain. “You would leave a young girl like that by herself? Even you’re not that heartless.”

  Tannyl’s jaw flexed and his frown deepened, eyes locked on Adelaide, a few strides ahead. “I might be.”

  The larger view of the city soon vanished as they walked along the broad street, surrounded by towering stone structures. Many of the first floors were open stalls, packed with goods hawked by energetic merchants.

  Adelaide let out a squeal of delight and darted into a store, leaving Alexander and Jaydan to catch up, both shouting after the girl.

  Tannyl sighed. “At least she’s taken to Jaydan and the other one.”

  “Alexander,” Sachihiro said.

  Tannyl grunted. “I know his name.”

  Sachihiro heard the meaning in the tone Tannyl used. He wasn’t nearly as hard to read as he thought. But then again, Sachihiro made a living off reading every tavern patron that held something he wanted. Knowing the emotions of a mark was just a tool of the trade. “Oh, I think he’s all right. Done nothing but help us so far.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “That surprises me, Tannyl,” he said in his best stage voice.

  Tannyl didn’t respond, instead following the others into the store they had entered.

  Sachihiro laughed to himself and did as well.

  “Greetings, travelers,” the elven woman behind the counter said as Alexander chased after Adelaide. The girl disappeared into one of the rows of clothing hung around the small shop, only her gleeful squeal giving away her location. Jaydan stumbled in and leaned against the counter, giving Alexander a look that spoke of growing exasperation.

  Alexander smiled and shrugged, turning back to the shopkeeper. “Greetings. We aren’t from here…” he said slowly, unsure of how much to reveal.

  The woman nodded, her face split with a matronly smile. “Outsyders. Yes, I know. Please, what is it that you require?”

  Adelaide burst from a group of dresses and nearly leapt onto the counter. Her eyes were wide and her voice climbed a few octaves. “I need a new dress,” she asserted. “Something fashionable. And clean clothes for my friends. We’re going to see the Council.”

  She spoke with an energetic authority and Alexander found himself snapping to attention. “Uh, yes,” he said. “Addy could use a set of new clothes, as you can see.” He indicated the drab wolf pelt that hung from her slight body. The woman nodded, still smiling. “But we have only a little to trade and no Imperial coin…”

  The elven woman waved a hand and let out a soft laugh. “Do not speak of barter or coins. The young lady shall have whatever she needs. And I can offer some practical clothing for the rest of you, should you desire it.”

  Alexander looked at Jaydan. The Healer shrugged.

  “I don’t understand,” Alexander said slowly. “You’re just going to give her the clothes?”

  The woman nodded, blue eyes soft and warm. “We do not simply give our wares away, but neither do we trade in physical currency.”

  Alexander just stared back dumbly.

  “You are worthy,” the woman continued. “It is plain to see.” She then turned to regard Adelaide, who was hopping with anticipation. “I will have my assistant, Elora, help you. Just tell her what you desire and it will be done.”

  Adelaide squealed, clapped her hands together and vanished into the back of the store. A young gnomish woman appeared from a small door cut into the wall behind the counter and followed after her.

  Sachihiro and Tannyl came in then. The elf looked peeved, while the other had a curious gleam in his eyes. It amused Alexander to see the pair side by side. Like the night with the day. He was still unsure of how he felt about any of the group, but as long as they helped look after Adelaide, he would trust them. She was proving to be a handful. And he couldn’t ignore the loss the others had suffered. By all accounts, the three were all that remained of their village. They needed him just as much as Adelaide did. He hoped his father would be proud of the decision to join with the battered group. It felt right.

  “What’s the girl doing?” Tannyl asked, eyes roving the cluttered store.

  “She’s picking out some new clothes,” Alexander replied, nodding toward the back of the store. Girlish giggles continued to echo from the stacks.

  Tannyl grunted. Sachihiro scratched his head. “How we going to pay for them?” he asked. “Think they’ll pay for a performance? I’ve been working on a new song after what happened in Woodhaerst.”

  “No need,” Alexander said. “Seems they’re just going to give her the clothes. Said she was worthy.”

  Sachihiro’s eyes lit up. “Think I can get some free wares too?”

  “Doubtful,” Tannyl said. “The Fae use emotions as currency. Or something approaching that. Hard to explain. Most of them can look into you and know what you’re feeling. Or who you are.”

  “How do you know that?” Sachihiro asked in challenge.

  The elf said nothing, and after a moment, turned and exited the shop.

  Jaydan and Sachihiro shared a look that Alexander had seen numerous times in their short coexistence.

  “How well do you know him?” he asked when it seemed clear the elf wasn’t returning.

  “Since I could walk,” Sachihiro said.

  Jaydan shook his head and rolled his eyes. “That was only a few seasons ago,” he said. “And besides, he asked how well we know him. And the answer is not well, but Fae’Na trusts… trusted him, and my parents always raved about his skill in the forest. Used to bring them supplies from his hunts once in a while in exchange for treatment.”

  “You trust him?” Alexander asked.

  “More’n I t
rust you,” Jaydan said, and then added, “no offense.”

  Sachihiro smiled apologetically. “Tannyl’s all right. Just a bit…”

  “Haunted,” Jaydan finished.

  Sachihiro nodded. “As Uncle used to say, that’s an elf with a ghost after him.”

  There was a crash from the back of the store followed by the exasperated cries of Elora. Adelaide’s shrill voice rang out soon after. Alexander couldn’t be sure of what she was saying, but the previous euphoria had seemed to wear off and she was no doubt ordering the gnomish woman about.

  “Better go help her out,” Alexander said.

  “Which one?” Jaydan asked.

  “Both.”

  The crowd was more suffocating than he remembered. It had swollen in just the few moments Tannyl had been inside the stuffy store. He darted and spun around the haphazard mass of citizens. A pair of elven women holding hands nearly caught the Hunter in the chest with their arms, parting just as Tannyl ducked. They looked at him quizzically, but continued on their way. Tannyl let out a sigh of relief and turned, colliding full force with a distracted gnome.

  Tannyl froze as he watched the gnomish man fall on his backside, armful of colorful fabrics going in all directions. His guard had only faltered for a moment, but he knew it took less for a thread to leak out. His breath caught in his throat as he waited for the realization to hit the man. The world crawled in slow motion.

  “Oh, my apologies,” the gnome said. “My fault entirely, I was—”

  The gnome froze and locked wide eyes with Tannyl. There it is, Tannyl thought. He knows. The gnome scuttled backwards and scrambled to his feet. His eyes remained wide. Wetness spread from the crotch of his pants.

  “Fae’Ta’Nyl’Na’Ling,” he said in a low voice before running in the opposite direction.

  Tannyl watched the small man vanish into the crowd and then looked at the forgotten goods scattered in the street. And then he stared at his own hands. If he stared long enough, he could still see the blood. And if he shut his eyes, the full host of sensations that accompanied that blood returned as well.

  He shook his head and narrowly avoided colliding with another Fae. His stomach churned and he quickly stepped off the street, wedging his body into a narrow alley between shops. He put a hand to his chest and realized he was panting. He closed his eyes and found his center. When he opened them, he had stopped shaking.

  He dug his fingers into the rough grooves of the stone that made up the wall in front of him and began climbing. Twice, he stole a look at the crowd and nearly fell. Each time, he had to close his eyes to calm his body and mind. That brought with it the warmth of blood and stink of burning flesh. It nauseated him just as it brought a fire to his muscles. He longed for a sharp blade, but he couldn’t be certain what he would do with one. He reached the rooftop and collapsed away from the edge, out of sight of the prying Fae four stories below.

  He rolled onto his back to stare at the perpetually blue sky. There was no sun in the Fae Wyld, but no night either. Only constant bright blue and wispy white in all directions. Tannyl longed for the deep greens of his forest home, the dark nights, and frequent thunderstorms. It was real. This… He shook his head and sat up, staying far from the edge.

  “Why are you here?” he asked softly to the blue sky. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

  A chill crawled up his back and sat menacing at the base of his skull. If a strange gnome on the street had recognized him, no doubt the Council wouldn’t even need to get close enough to sense his emotions to know him. He shuddered again and brought his knees to his chest, hugging them tight. He deserved it, of course, whatever lay ahead. It had been nearly thirty years, but he had never forgotten, so how could the Fae? Returning was a mistake on top of a mountain of mistakes. It was bound to topple.

  Was it worth it? he wondered as the phantom cries of the dead crowded his mind. If he listened hard enough, he could hear them plead for their lives. But then Fae’Na’s face floated to the forefront and the other voices faded away. The acrid scent of fire was swept away on the breeze and the blood evaporated from his hands.

  He smiled. Yes, it was worth it.

  He heard his name called from the street below. Sachihiro. The musician’s thundering stage voice echoed off the stone buildings that surrounded him. Tannyl didn’t move. He couldn’t. The call came again, louder, more insistent. Tannyl gritted his teeth and rose. His eyes darted toward the direction of Sachihiro’s voice for a moment, but then he looked at the greater city and made a decision. He hadn’t made a promise to Sachihiro and the others, or to Adelaide, or to Woodhaerst. He had made a promise to Fae’Na, and as much as it pained him to do so, he was going to hold true to it. Even if it got him killed. Especially if it got him killed. He ground his teeth and leapt to the adjoining rooftop, quickly picking up speed until he was nearly flying above the crowds.

  If he died, it would be better than he deserved, but an end he longed for all the same. He fought back tears, shut the emotions away, and ran harder.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ADELAIDE HAD NEVER felt more beautiful. She spun in tight circles on the street of the strange Fae city, trying to block out Sachihiro’s shouting. The dress spread out around her in perfect symmetry. She had never worn anything so light and elegant. Elora claimed the silk came from the Underground. That meant nothing to the girl; all she knew was that she loved the dress of muted greens and embroidered leaves. A thin braid of vines created a false neckline and wrapped around the midsection, keeping it snug to her chest, while allowing the bottom to move freely as she did.

  Alexander had insisted on getting a set of plain traveling clothes as well, but she would die before she took the dress off. And no matter what he or Jaydan said, she did not need shoes, or worse, boots. The stone of the street was polished, smooth, and warm. They shouldn’t worry so much about her. It was them that needed to be protected. She felt it.

  Growing too dizzy to see straight, Adelaide came to a disjointed stop and grabbed onto Alexander’s arm to steady herself. The lanky teen smiled warmly at her and looked back at the other adults.

  “He does this a lot?” Alexander asked.

  “Yeah,” Jaydan said. “He’s off by himself more’n he’s with us.”

  Sachihiro shrugged. “He’ll show up eventually. Likely just scouting the area. You know how he is. A touch paranoid.”

  Adelaide couldn’t stop herself from smiling. He was gone. The one that smelled… off. Everything about the elf made Adelaide uneasy, even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on the reason. She knew elves were a little strange, but that wasn’t it. Miss Hastings was an elf. A very old elf, and Adelaide loved no one in the world more than Miss Hastings.

  Her joy faded at the thought of her caretaker. She had told Adelaide she must flee, and she trusted her always, but it made her sad to leave her. She didn’t miss the others, though. Just Miss Hastings. She was the only one that was nice to her and didn’t tease Adelaide about her eyes and ears. She tugged at her elven ear and ran a finger to the point. She couldn’t remember a time that it wasn’t so. And she couldn’t remember a time when the others didn’t bully her for it. Her mum was human to be sure, but Adelaide was clearly something else. She often wondered if her ded was an elf, but Miss Hastings told her it didn’t work like that.

  “There are half-races to be sure,” she had said. “And even muddier waters after that, but it doesn’t make a person half one race and half another. It’s more subtle.”

  Miss Hastings reached up and ran a finger along her elven ear and then her human ear. Always smiling. Always gentle.

  “And my eyes?” Adelaide asked. There were plenty of polished mirrors about, and she often caught herself staring at her own reflection for long parts of the day. Wishing she were different. Wishing she were normal.

  “That’s not so strange, dear. I once knew a dwarf with one blue eye and the other bright red. He used to say that he used one for love and the other hate. Said it ke
pt him in balance.”

  Adelaide frowned at that, unsure if it made her feel better or worse. “Well, I love you,” she said at last. “And I hate Gwyn and Stephen and Veira and—”

  Miss Hasting forced a laugh to stop her from continuing. “Hate is a strong and dangerous emotion, Addy. Difficult to control and nearly impossible to master.”

  She decided it didn’t make her feel any better. “And love?”

  Miss Hastings smiled and shifted closer to her on the large canopied bed. She wrapped an arm around Adelaide’s shoulder and pulled her tight. Even in the dead of winter, Miss Hastings was warm. Always warm. And safe.

  “Love, my dear, can be even more dangerous, and is more wild than anything known to the world.”

  Addy giggled and burrowed into Miss Hastings’s chest. She pressed her human ear against the elf until she could hear the slow, rhythmic beat of her heart. “You’re silly,” she said.

  “That may be. Could be something I caught from you. But in this I am the most serious.”

  Adelaide twisted until her opposite ear was at her chest and she could look up at Miss Hastings without leaving her warm embrace. “Then we should never love anyone.”