He left his own dagger at his hip. The thought of an enemy in the heart of the Elven Empire was beyond belief. Their enemies were the rebel elves that still believed the elven people were destined to rule the void and enslave every race they encountered. Everyone that worked in the Elven capitol of Flasgoryll had been screened by elders. Not just interviewed, but magically inspected. No, his daughter was simply caught up in one of her games or playing a prank on them.
Jianna’s door refused to yield when Dexter tried the latch. He frowned, then pushed against it again. He turned back to Tasha and noted the narrowing of her eyes. “I didn’t try to open it earlier,” Tasha admitted. “But she’s never locked her door.”
Dexter turned back and slammed his shoulder into the door. It took a second attempt before it fell open, the magically grown wood breaking under his assault. He stepped in, his dagger was in his hand, and saw Jianna’s body on the floor.
“Jia!” Tasha cried out.
Dexter beat her to the girl, dropping his knife and pulling her to him. Her skin was cool to the touch. “Jianna,” he whispered, shaking her gently. She lay still in his hands, her body possessing the slack that only came with death.
“Keshira!” Dexter howled.
“Captain?” she asked via the magical bond the two shared. “I feel your pain, what troubles you?”
“Healers to Jianna’s room, now! Get Jenna here!”
“Captain, she’s in court still, I—”
“I don’t give a damn what you have to do, get her now!”
Tasha snatched her hand back from Jianna’s cheek. She jerked to her feet, a slender dagger in her hand. She spun about slowly, studying the room. She squatted to pick up the only thing that was out of place, Jia’s hairbrush. She studied it while Dexter clutched Jia tightly to his chest. He rocked her and spoke soothing words to her, promising her that everything would be all right. Tasha knew better.
After what seemed like hours later the door burst open again, Jenna striding through. “What’s going on?” she snapped. “And don’t ever send Keshira for me again like that! She scared half the palace guard to death! They—”
Jenna fell silent when she saw Dexter cradling their daughter. She rushed over and fell beside them, reaching out to her. When Jia didn’t move Jenna looked up at her husband, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “What happened? Is she…okay?”
“She’s breathing, barely,” Dexter managed, his voice a whisper. “She’s cold and limp as a rag. Poor girl’s barely got the strength left in her to make her heart beat.”
“What happened?” Jenna asked again, this time succeeding in pulling the girl’s body into her own arms.
“I mean to find out,” Dexter rose slowly, then picked up his dagger. Keshira stood, alert and waiting just inside the door. She looked almost comical, staring around for threats while she herself wore the finest elven silks in torn shreds about her body. Something never changed, when Keshira was given a task her own safety was ignored. She’d fought through the surprised guards to reach the Empress, paying the price with her clothing.
“‘Shira, fix your clothes,” Dexter snapped. She glanced down, her lips parting in a smile that Jia would have found out of place and creepy. Dexter glanced back at his stricken daughter and felt the room shift around him. He took a half step to steady himself, then focused on the pleasure golem again. “Fetch Xander and whatever elder’s you can. And this time don’t forget the healers!”
“Aye, Captain,” Keshira said. She turned and rushed off, running through the halls with a stride that tore the skirts of her dress.
Elven guards outside the room milled about, preventing anyone from approaching. One attempted to step in, a haughty elf that happened to be the Captain of the Empress’ guards. Dexter stepped up to him and pushed him back out into the hall. “Unless you’re a healer, no one steps foot in her until my wizard has a look.”
“Admiral,” the elf reproached. “Maintaining the safety of the royal family is my chief priority. I must—”
The elven Captain stumbled back into one of the guards standing outside. He reached up to his lips, his hand coming away bloody.
“You step foot in here again and it’ll be something a might sharper and pointier meeting you,” Dexter rubbed his knuckles in the palm of his other hand meaningfully.
Tasha moved to stand between Dexter and the Captain, her legs spreading to take a position of watch in the doorway. With his line of sight broken, the elf slipped away. “I’ll keep them out,” Tasha promised.
Dexter raised an eyebrow. Her pose in the dress was ridiculous. She’d pulled the slits up to accommodate her defensive stance, allowing the fabric to bunch around her waist before falling nearly three quarters of the way to the ground. She held her serpentine bladed dagger in her hand.
Dexter shook his head and turned away, then looked down at his wife and daughter. He went back to them, kneeling to offer what comfort he could. Tears fell from Jenna’s eyes, soaking her unresponsive daughter’s tunic. At a loss for words, and knowing that the rage was building inside of him to balance out the agony, Dexter remained silent.
After a few minutes a brief commotion preceded Tasha stepping aside and allowing a woman wearing light blue robes to enter. She hurried over and sank down beside the grief-stricken parents. Reluctantly they let her lay Jia on the floor so she could examine her.
“My name is Korina,” she said with a bow of her head. “I’m—”
“I know who you are,” Jenna snapped. “Now tell me what’s wrong with her!”
The half-elven healer nodded again and returned her attention to her patient. Dexter watched her, remembering the one time he’d met her. She’d been on one of the many outcast planets Bekka had visited, trying to bring news and hope for a brighter future for the Elven Empire. Korina had returned with her, taken by her words, and had found a measure of respect for her skills in Flasgoryll.
Before she looked up Xander, the wizard who’d once served on Dexter’s crew to pay off his debt, entered the room. The wizard was followed by a young looking elven woman. She had the look of a witch from her clothing, the kind that only the immodest elven people could produce.
“Admiral, Empress,” Xander greeted them. He glanced over his shoulder before adding, “Keshira insisted I come right away, what happened?”
“Was hoping you could tell us,” Dexter said. Keshira replaced Tasha at the door, allowing the woman to join the growing crowd in the room.
“I don’t know!” Xander snapped. “Trilliana and I were—”
“Found out a few minutes ago how much I missed punching people in the face,” Dexter growled. “Tell me what you can magic up about this.”
Xander followed Dexter’s hand movements to Jianna. He frowned, then knelt on the other side of the girl. He glanced up at Korina, then waited until she finished humming. She blinked, her eyes focusing on him slowly.
“She’s gone,” Korina whispered.
Jenna gasped, only Dexter’s strong grip on her keeping her standing.
“Her body’s here and alive, but it grows weaker with each breath. A day, perhaps a week? Then she’ll breathe her last.”
“You said she’s gone?” Xander pressed.
Korina nodded, then held her hands up. “I can’t reach her spirit. This is but a shell. Her mind and soul have fled already, although where I do not know.”
Xander snapped his fingers, conjuring up a globe of light on his finger. He reached out and gently opened one of Jia’s eyes, then the other. He dismissed the light and looked up at Korina first, then to Dexter. “She’s right, her body is well, or as well as it can be without a spirit to inhabit it.”
“Where she go?”
Dexter glanced around, then nervously shrugged. He saw Dexter’s expression darken and the man’s knuckles whiten. “I’ll try to find out,” Xander added. “But we don’t know anything that happened.”
“Look for a mark on her body.”
The voice carried ac
ross the room, drawing startled gasps. One of the elders stepped past Keshira without so much as a glance at her. He reached up and removed the hood on his dark robe, then stared down at the girl through silver eyes. “It is a special tactic used only in the most unusual of circumstances. That it should be used here is most grave.”
“Elder Kiltyrn, my thanks for coming so soon,” Dexter said.
“I sensed a spark of forbidden lore, I had to see if it was as I feared,” Kiltyrn said.
Korina searched Jianna’s flesh, looking for a mark of some sort. She nearly gave up hope when, at last, she found the small but swollen dot on the back of her neck. Elder Kiltyrn frowned as he studied it.
“Most unfortunate,” he mumbled before turning to address Jenna and Dexter. “Her soul has been stolen. Her body will wither and die in a matter of days.”
Dexter heard himself gasp. He took another step, using his grip on Jenna to keep himself from falling as much as he was keeping her from sagging to the ground.
“Stolen? By who?” Jenna asked.
“By an enemy. Either an enemy of your own or an enemy to your Empire,” Kiltyrn said. “This is no simple feat. It requires a great deal of magical talent to craft a weapon capable of doing this. I did not think anyone was still alive that could do so. For an assassin to possess the skill and magic necessary to infiltrate the private rooms here tells us that this must be a very well funded operation.”
“Can she be saved?” Dexter blurted out. He’d all but ignored everything the elder had said, focusing instead on when the ancient elf had said about her body fading within a matter of days. “If her body’s still alive for a few days, can we put her soul back in it?”
Kiltyrn bowed his head, pondering the question. He nodded a few times then raised it up to stare at Dexter with his strangely luminous eyes. “It’s never been done, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be. The process is simple in theory. The problem is the trap that holds her soul will not let her go without having her soul replaced with another.”
“We destroy it then,” Dexter grunted. “Not the first time we’ve done it.”
“No, it’s not,” Kiltyrn let a sad smile tilt his lips upward. “But her soul would not survive the destruction of the cage, nor would whoever destroyed it.”
Dexter scowled. “Heard that before, too. I’ll take my chances. Now where do I find the son of a bitch that done this?”
“After the flash of ancient necromancy the assassin disappeared from our sight,” Kiltyrn said. “I can only offer one final bit of hope, though I fear it may be your undoing.”
“What hope?” Jenna snapped, clinging to his words.
“I can put this body in a state of suspension. Months will pass before it feels another day.”
“I’m not sure why that’s a bad thing?” Dexter asked.
“You could spend the rest of your life searching for something you may never find. It might be wiser to stay here and finish what you’ve started. This fool’s errand might be the point behind this attack.”
“Admiral, I’ll go,” Tasha interrupted, stepping forward. “Jia’s the daughter I’ve never had. I love her more than I value my own life. I won’t stop until I find her.”
Dexter held up his hand. “That’s enough, Tasha.”
“Sir, I—”
“I said that’s enough!” Dexter snapped. “Freezing time or not, I don’t got the time to listen to you babble about how important Jia is.” He turned to look at Xander and the wizard’s scantily clad apprentice. “Wizard, I need you.”
Xander frowned. “I’m not much use with necromancy. Besides, wouldn’t you want someone more skilled with combat magic? You have a habit of finding people that want to kill you wherever you go.”
“I want you. Either you come willingly or I knock you on your arse and you wake up on the ‘Hawk.”
Xander sighed. “Then I’m yours. Trilliana, this will serve as a test of your ability to use magic in the face of adversity.”
Dexter nodded then turned back to face his wife. He saw the tension in her body and hoped she wouldn’t snap like an over-wound bowstring when he reached out to take her hand. “I’ll find her and bring her back.”
“No, we’ll find her,” Jenna squeezed his hand. She turned her head towards the door. “Captain Lucemius! Have the nobles assemble. They have thirty minutes and not one minute longer. I will address them.”
The elf that Dexter had punched bowed to her from the doorway. Dexter noted he didn’t dare step foot into the room. He also noted the elf’s swollen lip. “Tasha, stay with Jia. Keshira ready the ‘Hawk. I’ll pick up a few more people we need and meet you there.”
“Good, I’ll be there as soon as I finish with the council,” Jenna said. “Elder, what preparations must you make for Jianna?”
“I think you make a grave error,” Kiltyrn said. He waved his hand over Jianna’s body, sprinkling a fine dust he’d taken from his pocket over her. “But it is your error to make. Without strong leadership your people may forget the progress they have made.”
Jenna nodded. “Thank you, Elder Kiltyrn. We are indebted to you again. As for my people, I’ve already ignored the ones that matter the most for too long. If the elves forget so quickly then perhaps they were never mine to begin with.”
Kiltyrn nodded. “Her body awaits. It will endure for years in this state. Returning her soul will break the enchantment. May the winds of the void speed your journey.”
Chapter 2
“We’re sailing on this?” Trilliana’s tone left no doubt about what she thought of the Voidhawk.
“She’s been docked for a long time now,” Dexter defended his ship. It was true that the ‘Hawk had seen better days, but the problem wasn’t a matter of dry rot or damage, just dust settling in. “She still sails the void and I reckon she’ll be sailing it long after we’re gone.”
The smirk on the witch’s face said otherwise. Dexter scowled at her, but turned away when he heard a commotion on the docks. He turned and saw Jenna striding along the wooden limbs of the conjoined trees Flasgoryll was built upon. She wore breeches and a vest made of leather, with her swords at her hips and a pistol on a sash. Dexter also noticed that she looked angry.
The elven capitol city was massive, nearly the size of a small moon. As with nearly all elven outposts and citadels, Flasgoryll was a living entity. Far from sentient, it nevertheless consisted of a massive tree that had been nurtured with magic to grow into the shape that its tenders had imagined. Now it housed thousands of elves and served as one of the Elven Empire’s mightiest shipyards capable to growing the most breathtaking vessels to ever set sail across the void. The Voidhawk, in comparison to nearly any elven ship, seemed crude and uninspired.
“Look beyond the surface,” Xander urged his apprentice. “The Voidhawk has served for many years and has no small amount of magic built into it. Beyond that which is necessary to sail the void, I mean. I thought like you once, even after I worked my own magic into it to increase the size of the cargo holds. I’ve come to learn much more about it, there’s magic in it that goes beyond what the books can teach us. The magic of devotion and hard work. The magic of love.”
Trilliana spun to look at him, her delicate eyebrows raised. “You sound poetic, or at least romantic.”
Xander chuckled, trying to erase the red bloom from his cheeks. “Emotion carries power. It can be dangerous, especially for those that know how to use it. I’ve had lengthy debates with the Elders about it. I suspect channeling such energies over long terms—and by invoking them in massive groups of people—is what can cause inexplicable phenomena to occur. Miracles, you would say, or for even longer term results the creation of deities.”
“There’ll be no deity that can save you if you don’t have the ‘Hawk ready to sail by the time I’m back on the deck!” Jenna stepped off the ramp and strode across the deck, heading to the circular staircase that would take her to the companionway closest to the bridge.
Dexter allowed
himself a smirk. “Seems my first mate is back,” he offered. A ribald curse drifted up from the staircase, followed by a crash of wood against wood. He turned without another word and hurried after her.
Jenna was pulling chart after chart out of a chest, unrolling the delicate parchments on the table then tossing them aside. She looked up at him when he entered and glared angrily. Her eyes softened. Her shoulders sagged and it seemed only her hands on the table kept her knees from collapsing beneath her. Dexter hurried over to her, rounding the table and placing his hand on her back.
“We’ll get her,” he whispered.
Jenna turned, burying her face into his chest and letting loose a sob. The Captain had little choice but to hold her tightly while she let loose the emotions that had been building in her. Emotions that, he suspected, had built over six long years spent denying everything except the needs of the Empire.
When she could draw a breath with little more than a shudder she whispered into his sodden shirt, “I’ve been a terrible mother.”
“You’ve been here. Busy, yes, but you were here,” he consoled. “Beats what I grew up with.”
“My mother was here too,” she confessed. “She’s still here somewhere. Exiled with my father.”
Dexter sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you think they did this?”
“What? No,” she said, still clinging to him. “I just meant my mother was always around, but she seldom had time for me. She never played with me or listened to me. She would talk to me at times, telling me how things were and what was expected of me, but that was it. I fear I’ve turned out just like her!”
“Can’t say that your mother seems the type to send her daughter off to practice swinging swords around in the air with a smile on her face.”
Voidhawk - Lost Soul Page 2