One by one, we righted the harpies who were lying on the barn floor, struggling against their bonds. Each one we moved against the barn wall, which had been spelled to withstand their kicks and punches. It took time. There were twenty in this barn alone, but finally, we came to the creature we thought we needed to address. The large one. The beast that had maimed Bren.
With our magic connected, I felt Bren’s disdain and rage as clearly as if he shouted his emotions to the barn rafters. Sensing each other’s thoughts and feelings so clearly when we worked joint magic, we hadn’t even begun to deal with that complication yet. For now, we were of single purpose.
Using the staff, I pointed and lifted the big harpy and set him on his feet. He towered above us, easily four times our height, with a wingspan that would have toppled the barn if he weren’t magically restrained.
Immediately, the creature garbled at us in a guttural, furious way.
Acaw’s staff hummed against my fingers, suffused with ancient power plus the combined magic Bren and I brought to the equation. I caught the last few words of the thing’s tirade.
“…Witch. Kill. Must.”
“He thinks he has to kill you—or us.” Bren shook his head. “Acaw, can you ask him why and find out his name?”
Acaw made no response other than to whisper to his crow-brother, who chattered at the harpy with a series of clicks, grunts, and squawks.
The harpy’s expression changed from bleak anger to mild surprise. He let loose with another set of sounds, making the staff buzz in my hand.
“Garth,” Bren and I said together. It wasn’t exact, but that was as close as we could come to the big brute’s name.
“Father,” was the next word I picked out.
Bren said, “Children.”
He grimaced, and I knew his hand was hurting him. I felt twinges in my own fingers through our magical connection, and the low roiling in his belly as he stifled his reaction to the pain. He would rather be anywhere but here, but he was doing this because of his bargain with me, because of his duty to his people.
At that odd moment in the smelly barn, face to face with a monster that had tried to kill us, and had maimed Bren, I realized once and for all how much a king he had become in my absence. He must have caught the rush of warmth and pride I felt for him, because he looked at me.
Not now, his eyes said. This is a time for hardness, not kisses.
“Don’t be inflexible,” I whispered back, then almost laughed at what I’d said.
Garth chattered some more, getting louder, clearly frustrated.
“Free,” Bren said as the staff vibrated. “Release. Save.”
“He wishes you to release his bonds,” Acaw said in a distant tone, listening to the clucks and squawks of his crow-brother.
“That’s not happening,” Bren said gruffly. “Tell him I’m not willing to take that chance.”
The crow-brother and the harpy went back and forth, back and forth. The staff shook and buzzed, but we could tease out little of Garth’s meaning.
“Smell, criminal—I think he said criminal dead man, but that doesn’t make sense.” Bren shook his head. “Acaw, ask him why he attacked us.”
The elfling relayed this to the crow-brother, who spoke to the harpy. Immediately, Garth went still and straightened up. He let out only one stream of careful grunts and whistles.
“Attack ... save ... children,” Bren said. His eyes widened and he looked at me. “Jazz. He means he attacked us to save his children!”
Incredulous, I glanced at Acaw. The elfling actually looked as shocked as I felt.
“Let me have the staff.” Bren let go of my hand and reached for it, and I turned it over gladly. “Keep your hand on my shoulder so we’re connected, okay?”
I nodded.
Bren and Garth went to work in earnest then, with Acaw and the crow-brother stepping in less and less. I could barely follow everything they were saying, but the next thing I knew, Bren pointed the staff at the harpy and spoke the words to release his magical restraints.
“What are you doing?” I cried as I felt our power surge toward the beast.
“Turning him loose.”
“I can see that! Why?”
“Because he’s okay.” Bren flicked the staff around the barn. One by one, the harpies descended to stand on the dirt floor. When the last touched down, they surged around Garth, and the big creature clucked and whistled like he was offering them comfort.
“Bren.” I squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t leave me in the dark like this.”
“I won’t. Just a sec.” He pointed Acaw’s staff at the barn roof, and it flew open. In seconds, all the harpies except Garth took off into the darkening sky.
“What did you just do?” I whispered, thinking about the hags, the Keepers—all the witches who would now want his blood as much as the beasts he had freed.
Bren lowered the staff and turned to me as Garth settled back on his haunches. “Alderon took their children. He killed them with spells and sent them to Talamadden on purpose, to keep you there!” A light burned in Bren’s eyes. I’d only seen it a few times before, and I related it to absolute determination—and a touch of Bren-like madness.
“He told the harpies he wouldn’t free their babies until you and I were both dead.” Bren massaged his bandaged hand as he continued. “Or until the witches had been torn to pieces, to make it easier for him to take control of the Sanctuaries.”
Many things suddenly made sense. How the harpies had come to attack me in Talamadden, and why they were so much smaller than these, why their thoughts and language were so much simpler. They were children. Only little ones, lonely in a strange place, terrified and hungry, and incredibly far from home. Worse than that, Alderon had lied to the creatures. He could no more free them from Talamadden than their parents could, unless…
“The Erlking may be helping Alderon,” I said, almost to myself.
Bren’s jaw dropped. “Where did that come from?”
“Yes,” Acaw said as he came over to us and retrieved his staff. “It’s the only explanation. Basic creatures such as harpies would sense falsehood. Alderon could not have convinced them he would retrieve their offspring unless he truly could. For that, he would need a powerful ally in the Sacred Lands.”
The crow-brother politely translated our conversation to Garth, who spoke back suddenly and sharply. The bird’s head whipped back to Acaw. It let out a shrill bunch of cawing that made my skin tighten.
“What?” Bren and I both asked at the same time.
“The harpy claims to have met the Erlking in the Sacred Lands. Alderon took Garth and his mate there to convince them of what he had done.”
“So Alderon can open doors on the Path,” Bren said before he swore emphatically.
I was too stunned to open my mouth. This was foul news indeed. We had to shore up our defenses immediately. Begin patrols. Discuss methods of detection, and—
And the harpy was talking again.
Acaw listened to his crow-brother and said, “Garth says you are wasting time. He has kept his bargain and sent his kin away. Now you must do as you promised.”
My stomach tightened. “Bren? What promise did you make?”
With a miserable expression on his face, Bren ran his bandaged hand across his brown hair, then cursed some more when the bandages hung in the strands. After a long minute, during which my stomach began to ache fine and proper, he said, “I told him we would go back to Talamadden with him to rescue the harpy children.”
“You what?” Gold and silver sparks blasted between us, and I knew if I put my hand on him, the whole barn would blow apart.
“You’re the one who wanted me to negotiate!” The silver sparks shot higher than the gold ones. “I made peace without another battle. No swords, no magic. That’s what you wanted, right?”
“I don’t know what I wanted, but it wasn’t that. Go back to Talamadden. Have you lost your senses?” Tears pushed at my eyes. “I don’t w
ant to go anywhere near death. Not now. Not until my time! Got that?”
Bren’s eyes narrowed. “It’s the right thing to do, and you know it.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do.”
I banged his chest with my fists, and one wall of the barn did blow outward with spectacular force. Boards smacked the ground outside, echoing in the quiet of the oldeTowne dusk.
As Acaw cleared his throat and pointed his staff at the mess of nails and wood, Bren grabbed both of my hands in his good one and held them tight. He gave me that blasted quirky smile.
I had never wanted to hit him so badly in all the time I had known him.
Instead, I leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips. The stubble on his cheeks and chin scraped against my face. Familiar. Right. Absurdly calming.
Bren looked surprised and confused when I pulled away, and I didn’t blame him. That’s exactly how I felt. The glow of our magic gradually settled into a blended, calm light, almost white gold in color, and he sighed. “I didn’t know L.O.S.T. was in such danger from Alderon—but even if I had, it’s still the right thing to do, Jazz. We have to risk leaving one more time. We have to save those babies.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, then recoiled at how much I sounded like…well, Bren. The urge to hit him swelled once more, but I directed my attention to Garth instead.
The giant harpy looked less than patient. His claws clicked incessantly, one to the other, his wings twitched, and he kept opening and closing his mouth, giving me a splendid view of his fangs. Not to mention the fact he was actually starting to stink worse.
Wonderful.
I detached my hand from Bren’s and headed for the barn door, since Acaw had so kindly repaired the damaged wall.
Where are you going?” Bren called as I stomped out of the barn.
“Away from here. Tell the harpy we’re leaving tomorrow morning. I need to talk to Mother and Sherise. And some slithers, if Todd hasn’t poisoned them all against me.”
It seemed like old times on the Path as I stalked through the village, from the ancient-style huts and cabins of the oldeFolke all the way into the modern section of town. Few people were about in the early evening, but most fled as I approached. A few dared to stay close by, but they bowed so deeply they might have been kissing the ground. A finger of guilt nudged at my heart. Perhaps these were some I had turned into daisies when I lost control at the training arena.
I knew I should feel more ashamed than I did, but I didn’t have the urge. I didn’t have the energy either. How had I spent so much time beating myself up before I died? I don’t know how I ever got anything done with all that obsessing. Well, except for cleaning. I was very good at cleaning, if a little excessive.
My mother wasn’t going to like this at all. Rol would like it less, but Bren and I needed them to stay here, to work with Todd and Sherise to ward L.O.ST. against Alderon while we were gone.
Goddess, I didn’t have the fortitude to deal with Todd and the slithers tonight. Let that wait. A night’s rest, that’s what I needed most. Let me fall asleep, wake up in one piece, and take on the miseries in the morning.
Shoving my hands in my pockets to keep my fingers warm, I turned the corner toward my house and approached from behind, through the adjoining yard. As I stepped into the hedgerow, I heard the sound of nearby voices rising, then falling back to conspiratorial whispers.
Heart suddenly hammering, I slowed down, making my movements through the evergreen branches as quiet as I could.
How could I have been so foolish, to put off what needed to be done? Had Alderon already slipped into L.O.S.T.? Was he preparing to attack my mother and Sherise, thinking I might be in the house as well?
My fingers itched to draw deep on the magic I once commanded all alone, but I was helpless without Bren beside me.
Well, not helpless. I could throw a rock as well as anyone.
I knelt and selected a good-sized stone from beneath the hedge, then resumed my creeping. I inched, then paused. Inched, then paused.
The voices kept up their argument.
When I finally got close enough to hear the words, I could also see the shadowy outlines of a man and a woman sitting on a bench beneath a leafless oak.
“Mac,” the woman said, taking the man’s hand. “It simply cannot be. There are too many complications. Your sons. My daughter.”
The man lowered his head. “Have your feelings changed? Are you trying to let me down easy?”
“No!” The woman’s hand fluttered upward, and I recognized the voice and gesture at the same time. My mother. And a man named Mac?
McAllister. Bren’s family name. My mother is talking to Bren’s father!
The stone dropped from my hand, landing silently in the grass. It was all I could do not to sit right down on the ground in shock. A flush of heat warmed my cheeks, and I knew they had to be three shades of red. I was spying. I shouldn’t be spying, but how could I walk away?
As I watched, mouth hanging open, my mother leaned forward and shared a brief, gentle kiss with my boyfriend’s father. I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or be ill.
“You should go now,” Mother murmured. “Jasmina will be home soon. I don’t know why she’s not here already.”
“Jasmina is nearly an adult,” Bren’s father said, hurt evident in his tone.
Mac. Ooh, by the Goddess, she calls him Mac?
“Todd is not,” Mother reminded him gently. “He’s already disaffected—and now we have Sherise to deal with as well.”
Bren’s father let out a slow breath. It was a sound of disappointment, of a heart turning inward to cope with hurt. “Will it always be work and duty and parenting before everything else?”
“I hope not. Mac, truly.”
“Is it Giles?” he interrupted. “I know he died a rough death, that he was a hero—and a king. Do you feel like you’re dishonoring your husband’s memory with the likes of me?”
“No,” Mother whispered. “Oh, no.” There were tears in those words, matching my own. “It’s the timing, and the timing only. Please tell me you believe that.”
After too long a pause, Bren’s father finally answered. “I believe you.”
A sob threatened to burst from my throat as he stood to leave, but I held my peace.
My mother sat in the shadows, head down, hands in her lap as he silently moved toward the gate leading to our front yard. She didn’t look up to see how he stopped, how he looked back, the moonlight catching his face just so, showing the devastation etched in every angle and line.
I wanted to leap out of the hedge and yell at my mother, then shake some sense into her.
That man—Bren’s father—oh, all right. Mac. He loved her. And not just a passing, flirty love. He cared so much, and she sent him away!
Why? So I wouldn’t be upset? So Todd wouldn’t get his undershorts in a twist? This was wrong. It was awful.
Long after Bren’s father departed, my mother held her same position. She might have been weeping. Goddess knows I was. I sat there under that hedge in the cold night, and I forgot every concern, every goal. Nothing mattered for those endless minutes, except the sight of my proud mother sitting all alone in the dark with her head bowed, letting the man who loved her walk away.
Duty. Responsibility. Is it worth it? Is anything worth that kind of pain?
The memory of Egidus, of the feather he sent and the message he asked me to carry crossed my mind. In all the chaos, it had slipped away completely, but now it made perfect sense.
Love is never wrong.
That’s what he told me to tell her. Give her the feather and tell her Egidus said love is never wrong. I needed to do it, maybe even right now.
“What are you doing?”
Bren’s whisper didn’t even startle me.
“I’m crying,” I whispered back.
“Uh, yeah. That I can see.”
“Sssshhh!”
My mother stood. She dabbed he
r eyes and straightened her back, then slowly walked into our house without a glance toward the hedge.
I let Bren pull me back out of the evergreen branches and help me up. “Were you spying on your mother?” he asked, obviously amused.
“Yes.” I sniffed. “My mother and your father.”
Moonlight showed me Bren’s lack of surprise. “Gotcha,” he muttered. “Winnie, Jeez.”
“Your dad calls my mom Winnie?”
Bren nodded.
I glanced toward the house, wiping away the last of my tears. “She calls him Mac.”
“Please don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
“When I got here, they were talking. They kissed.”
“Jazz!” Bren actually covered his ears. “I’m not hearing this.”
I jerked his hands away. “Stop being juvenile and listen to me. Once we do this thing, once we get back from Talamadden, that’s it. We’re staying here and being the king and queen. No more adventures. No more leaving other people to do our jobs while we’re gone. Understand?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
He left off the whatever, which probably saved his cheek a good slap. Instead, I stood on my tiptoes, brushed my lips against his, then let him go and shoved my way back through the hedge.
As I headed for the house, the cracking of branches told me Bren was following. He was muttering, too. I couldn’t make out most of the words, but I caught a few clearly.
“Women…never understand…crazy.”
Well, yes.
That did about sum it up after all.
***
Chapter Fourteen
By the next morning, I realized the whole negotiating-for-peace thing didn’t mean we wouldn’t need swords. It just meant we couldn’t use them.
Jazz and I barely got a quick dinner and a few hours of sleep before the trouble started at breakfast. With Sherise, Dame Corey, and my dad—just after my dad showed up and woke me up from the living room couch.
“What do you mean, you’re going back to Talamadden?” Jazz’s mom slammed both hands on the table, rattling my pile of scrambled eggs as she stood up. Sherise had covered her mouth and my dad was staring at me with his jaw ratcheting open and shut, open and shut.
L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set Page 40