Miss Hastings put a hand to Adelaide’s face, lightly tracing her jaw line. Her eyes were bright gold and shone brilliantly in the dim lantern light. “The opposite, my dear. Love is the most dangerous because it can take hold of a person and make them do things no other emotion can. It can be blinding and terrifying. It consumes entire lives and brings desperation just as often as it brings hope. Many cities have come to ruin because of love. And many more have been built.”
“I don’t ever want to love, then,” Adelaide said sternly. “Sounds scary.”
“Oh, but you do. You see, Addy, love is most certainly all of those things I said. And more. I wouldn’t ever lie to you. But there is no more beautiful and wholly wonderful thing than love. To freely give of such a gift, and to receive it from another when you did nothing to earn it…” Miss Hastings paused, a faraway look in her eyes.
Adelaide understood little of the words that Miss Hastings said, as was oft the case, but she knew their meaning. No, that wasn’t right. She felt their meaning. She burrowed even deeper into her caretaker’s body, feeling entirely secure.
“I love you, Miss Hastings,” she said.
“I love you too, Addy, my dear. Always.”
Something jolted Adelaide and she nearly fell. A pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and saved her from ruining her new dress.
“You all right, Addy?” Alexander asked, crouched before her.
She looked back at the young man and for a moment almost said the words. But they got caught somewhere between her soul and her body, so she just nodded. The warm stone beneath her feet didn’t feel quite so warm anymore.
Alexander raised an eyebrow, but relented and stood. “Well, I guess we go find the Council,” he said to Jaydan and Sachihiro. “See if we can’t get some answers. For all of us.”
“We don’t even know where to go,” Jaydan said.
“I can find it,” Sachihiro shouted, eyes already scanning in all directions.
Adelaide watched Jaydan roll his eyes and slowly shake his head. She had seen him do it more times than she could count, always directed at Sachihiro. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently. Something spread over Adelaide. It was similar to what she felt when she was near Alexander, and both were similar and different than how Miss Hastings made her feel, even at this distance. She first thought it love, but now she wasn’t so sure. Miss Hastings had never told her if there were different kinds of love. Adelaide assumed she would recognize it just as she did with her caretaker.
“Maybe we should ask someone,” Alexander said. “The Fae seem friendly enough. What about the shopkeeper that gave Addy the clothes?”
“Ask me, I know the answer,” said a shrill voice from the air. Adelaide’s heart soared and she giggled. She should have sensed him before he shimmered into view now. He must be good at hiding, she thought, thinking of the games she would play with Miss Hastings on rainy days. “For I am Erlen Dragontamer and while I most certainly, absolutely, and with great skill and charisma, tame dragons, I also know much about this here city. For I am Fae’Erlen Dragontamer, as well. A Fae from birth and a Dragontamer till death!”
“You’re back,” Sachihiro exclaimed, his face lit with joy.
“Back? I never left.”
“Wait, so you’ve been following us the whole time we’ve been here?” Jaydan asked.
Erlen nodded energetically, causing his whole body to bob up and down in the air. Adelaide felt herself moving in time with the small creature. He was just so cute, she wanted to place him in a pocket and carry him around forever. He was so much more amicable than the wolf cub Veira had. And Erlen had stories, which she loved far more than anything else in the world. Well, except for Miss Hastings, she reminded herself.
“That’s a little creepy,” Jaydan said.
“A sprite has to be careful. Even one such as tames dragons with merely a coy thought and a stiff sword.”
“Just because you can render yourself invisible doesn’t mean you can just follow people around without them knowing,” Jaydan retorted.
Erlen faced the slight man and tilted his head. He continued to do so until his entire body hung horizontal, his iridescent wings beating no different than before. Adelaide turned her head as well, wishing for such beautiful wings.
“Invisible?”
Jaydan rolled his eyes and looked pleadingly at Sachihiro. Adelaide frowned. How could they not see? It was plain as day.
“How do you do that anyway, Erlen?” Sachihiro asked.
“Do what?”
“Turn invisible.”
“Oh,” Erlen said thoughtfully. “I can’t turn invisible. What do I look like, a Fengar?”
“Well, how do you make it so we can’t see you?”
“It’s not a matter of can’t. It’s a matter of won’t.”
Adelaide glanced at Alexander. He shrugged.
“What if I want to see you?” she asked, stepping forward.
Erlen spun in the air and flitted toward Adelaide until he nearly landed upon her nose. He leaned in close and held a finger up to his lips and another to his. It tickled. He then winked, smiled, and abruptly darted away.
“A Dragontamer shall never reveal his secrets, for we tame dragons! The most fearsome of the fiercest creatures that fiercely stalk dreams and shatter lives. It is I, Erlen Dragontamer, who protect the weak and scared from their mighty claws and wicked fangs. There is no end to the dragons I have tamed, and those that I will tame are even more endless! So follow me, brave warriors of the other world, to the castle of Paladrix!”
Erlen drew his tiny sword, stabbed it into the air, made a crude horn nose with his mouth, and darted off, still shouting his ever-increasing list of accolades.
Before she realized it, Adelaide was chasing after the tiny sprite, shouting, “Make way for Erlen Dragontamer and his royal brigade!”
Chapter Fourteen
TANNYL CROUCHED ATOP the roof of the shipwright, studying the ebb and flow of sailors and merchants. Time had little meaning here, without the sun to reference, but he knew the day was coming to a close. His keen senses told him that, and there had been a steady decrease in activity along the port. It was nearly barren. Almost time to move.
He would never be able to simply stroll onto the docks and request passage to the Forest Realm, and sneaking aboard a craft was impossible to do without being detected. His scent was too well known here. He had hoped against all hope that the memory of his deeds had faded, but it was clear now that the Fae could sense it just as clearly as if it had just occurred. In Tannyl’s mind, it had.
He cursed under his breath as the last few merchants vanished into the city proper, leaving only a handful of deckhands milling about. A sweat broke out along his forehead and his hands grew clammy. He scanned the line of ships one last time, though he had already settled on a target. There was only one ship he’d be able to sail himself, and his perch lay directly across the street from it. He cursed himself for stalling.
He placed a hand over the secret pocket in his armored vest, steeling himself for what was to come, and dropped to the street. His landing was smooth, silent, and flawless. His hood went up over his head as he crossed the street and crouched behind the low wall that ran the entire length of the island. This close to the edge, he felt the wind that swirled beyond the city. It was a welcome sound to his starved ears and filled him with vigor. This was for her. Nothing else mattered. Least of all his own life.
He crept to the pathway that led to the long dock that moored a small schooner. Only one deckhand patrolled the dock, and he was tending to the large merchant vessel on the opposite side. Even so, Tannyl couldn’t risk getting too close to the man for fear even proximity would reveal who and what he was. He slid silently over the edge of the dock, grabbed on to the supports beneath, and swung into the open air.
He hung suspended for moment, taking in the awe of his position. He had seen the wonder of the Fae sky a hundred times before, but it never ceased to st
eal his breath. In all directions existed only blue emptiness. His comfort lay in the firm soil and sturdy oaks of his forest. The Fae sky was another beast entirely. Almost too terrifying to fear.
He had asked Fae’Na what would happen should someone fall from the edge of one of the many islands in the Fae Wyld. “Would they ever strike the bottom?” he had asked.
“Bottom?” she had said with a laugh. “Who said anything about a bottom?”
The very idea unnerved the Hunter, but the memory brought a wider mix of emotions. The pit in his stomach grew, threatening to pull him into an endless fall.
It had been the day he had broached the subject of taking her away.
“And where would we go?” she had asked.
He had shrugged. It was the first time in his life that he hadn’t formulated an intricate plan before acting. It left him unsettled. “It doesn’t matter. Anywhere. Just not here. You know what they’ll do to you on the next equinox.”
Fae’Na frowned and stood, placing a bright red flower behind her ear. Her fingers set to braiding her hair before she answered. “But I’m Fae’Na. It’s my place in the tribe. The Ancients say—”
He grabbed her and spun her so quickly toward him that the flower fell from her ear and drifted lazily to the ground. “No. You deserve the right to choose. Those old wretches have lived long enough. You know it’s wrong just as I do. Don’t hide behind that dry rhetoric they try to beat into you. You’re stronger than that.”
She stared back defiantly. It was like staring at his reflection, his own mask staring back at him, eyes live with defiance. “They won’t let you take me.”
Tannyl matched her scowl. “Let them try to stop us.”
Fae’Na pushed away and retrieved the flower. “They would go to the Council and we would be hunted. There is nowhere in all of the Fae Wyld that we could hide.”
Tannyl laughed and drew her gaze. “Who said anything about staying in the Fae Wyld?”
A gust of wind brought the docks back into view, and Tannyl cursed.
“You don’t have time for this, Tannyl,” he said to himself, feeling his grip begin to weaken. He locked his eyes on the solid structure of the dock, wrapped his legs around the support beam, and inched his way toward the ship.
Thick ropes moored the floating craft to the dock and it swung lazily against its tether, drifting one way until the ropes pulled taut, and then moving in the opposite. Tannyl paused in the space between dock and ship, listening for any movement above. Only the wild breeze of the sky reached his ears, and he climbed aboard with practiced ease.
The deck of the small ship was quiet. Tannyl held his position for a long breath and then moved for the hatch. He pressed his ear to the small trapdoor that would lead to the lower cabin. Silence. The Hunter eased the hatch open just enough to slide in and drop to the floor below. The space was small and cramped, filled with crates and sacks of trade goods. Small portholes lined the walls, letting in light enough to see by. Even so, Tannyl shut his eyes for a moment to allow them to adjust.
The lower deck of the schooner was largely dedicated to storage, but there was a small room set at the aft end of the ship—a captain’s office. The door was shut, but opened easily on oiled hinges. Tannyl’s hand went to his knife, but the office was empty save for a cluttered desk and simple chair. He relaxed and let out a long sigh. He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath. It took another pair of deep breaths to still the tremble in his hands.
“Now to get this thing sky worthy,” he said to the empty room.
It would be a tall order for sure, but Tannyl knew it could be done. He’d commandeered larger vessels before, alone. Always alone. It was safer that way. He gave one last look around the office and open storage area before heading back to the hatch. If he was lucky, he could reach the Forest Realm in a few days. Can a lifetime be corrected in a few short days? Just as he was reaching for the ladder, the hatch flipped open and a lanky elf dropped in much as Tannyl had done, forgoing the ladder for sake of speed.
The elf’s eyes hardly had time to adjust before Tannyl was upon him. Together, they crashed into a large crate. Tannyl’s knife was at his throat in an instant. It pressed just hard enough to draw a single drop of blood.
“May silence be your savior,” Tannyl hissed.
The elf stared back a moment in stunned silence, and then his eyes came alive, darting over Tannyl. Recognition dawned a breath later.
“Betray—”
“And your end.” With a twitch, Tannyl silenced the elf, burying the knife up to the hilt. Blood ran warm over his hand as he held the lifeless elf in stasis.
He cursed and pulled the knife free, letting the body fall to the floor with a dull thump. He dropped the knife as well and went to his knees. His heart was thundering in his chest and his breathing came in ragged gasps. Part of him felt invigorated and voracious, but another, deeper part was horrified. How long had it been since he last took an innocent life? He shook his head, fearing to dredge up memories long since buried. The warmth that coated his hands was undeniable now.
“You had no choice,” he told himself.
It was a lie, of course. There was always a choice. Fae’Na had taught him that. What would she say if she could see him now? He shuddered and felt his stomach churn. No, he thought, shaking his head. This is for her. Don’t doubt yourself now. You promised.
His legs were shaking, but he made it to his feet and climbed to the top deck. He would have to deal with the corpse at some point, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at it again. Not yet. His eyes went over the ship, trying to figure out his next move, but he found it hard to process, and repeatedly stumbled over the same thought. The blood that coated his hand was growing sticky. He frantically wiped it on a bundle of sailcloth.
Shouts from the shore fractured his stupor and brought his senses to a state of alertness. The scent of burning flesh dissipated, taking with it the nausea. He had been found out. His bow was in his hand, strung, and nocked with an arrow in an instant. He was thankful for a problem he could solve. He stole to the wall of the ship and peered over, searching for a target. He knew he would kill again if it were necessary. He had to. There was a special place in the Pyre for people like him.
Several deckhands were congregated on the shore, loudly conversing and gesturing to the sky. Tannyl scanned the docks nearest him, but they were empty. He hadn’t been discovered. He eased the arrow back into his quiver and relaxed his grip on the bow. He was just about to return to the task of readying the ship when he saw what captivated the deckhands.
In the center of the island that was Paladrix, the capital’s castle loomed over the rest of the city. And there, all around the tall spires, the sky was darkening. An inky blackness spread above the citadel, casting the monolith in long shadows. A streak of lightning ripped through the black clouds followed by a peal of thunder that shook the entire city.
Tannyl looked back at the ship. It would be an easy escape. The entire city was likely to be distracted. But his feet wouldn’t move to the sails or the rigging. And he found himself turned back to the castle, mind racing. They flashed in his mind as another bolt of lightning tore through the blackness. But it was Fae’Na’s face that last appeared to him. The Druid wore an expression he had seen all too often over the years. It left no room for disagreement or discussion.
He was running before his feet hit the dock.
Chapter Fifteen
“NO, NO, NO,” Adelaide said sternly, her face betraying her exasperation. “You hold it like this.”
Alexander and Jaydan looked at each other, both failing to control the wooden utensil to the girl’s liking. It looked like a small pitchfork, but Alexander just couldn’t get his long fingers to manipulate it quite right. Jaydan made a stab at a boiled potato and the fork jumped out of his hand.
Adelaide slapped her forehead and shut her eyes. Alexander could see the muscles of her jaw flex as she fought for composure. Alexander gave Jaydan a kn
owing look and glanced off toward the far side of the dining hall where Sachihiro and Erlen were performing for the patrons. Sachihiro stood in the center of a table, gesturing wildly as Erlen flitted through the crowd, sword out and smile wide. It seemed the wealthy residents of the castle had never witnessed such a thing, for they pressed in tightly around the pair.
Jaydan followed his gaze and grumbled, “Sach doesn’t have to learn this nonsense.”
Adelaide’s eyes flew open and she pounded a tiny fist on the table. Alexander dropped his fork in surprise and hastened to pick it up before she noticed.
“Sachihiro is entirely unteachable,” she said. “But I had hoped you two would prove better students. If we are to go before the Council tomorrow morning, you had best learn some manners. Proper etiquette is the language of Royals. We need their help, and I won’t have you offend them.”
Alexander felt his gaze drop in submission. The small child had adopted a different persona as soon as the group had entered the castle. She stood tall, chin angled upward, and her shoulders pulled tightly back. She gave the steward a series of stiff commands before he even had the chance to speak. When he managed to get a word in and informed the group the Council would not see them until the next day, Alexander was certain the small girl was going to burst at the seams. The tirade she unleashed on the elven servant sent him scrambling to prepare the best rooms the castle had to offer, while another prepared refreshments and reserved a place in the dining hall.
“Addy, I don’t think we’ll have to eat with the Council,” Alexander offered, careful to avoid her stony gaze.
“Hmph. I should hope not, for they would surely have us removed in shackles. The only thing that may save us is Tannyl’s absence. Now,” she nodded to their plates. “Again.”
The crowd at the far end let out a raucous cheer. Sachihiro bowed, and once they quieted, slung his lute from his back and set to an energetic ballad. His voice echoed off the tall stained-glass windows and vaulted ceiling.
The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) Page 10