by Barb Hendee
“You . . . you . . .” she stuttered. “You . . . bastard!”
She punched him straight in the chest.
Steel rings lashed on his armor beneath the pullover bit into Wynn’s knuckles. She snatched her hand back in a cringe of pain.
“Hey, what was that for?” he asked.
Looking into Leesil’s frowning face, Wynn lost any irritation he always sparked with a jest. She threw herself at him, knocking him into the alcove’s corner.
“Take it easy,” he warned. “You going to crack my head open on the wall now?”
She just held on to him.
“Wynn?” Leesil asked, but she couldn’t answer.
His hand slid across her back as he wrapped his arms around her in return. She was shaking when he clamped his hold tighter. She lifted her head and saw the concern in his slightly large amber eyes.
Wynn barely regained composure as she rose on her toes to kiss his cheek.
“What do you think you’re doing with my husband?”
That caustic jibe came from behind, and Wynn quickly turned her head.
There she was, nearly as pale as a corpse.
Magiere pushed back her hood, letting loose her black hair. The cold lamp’s dim light barely raised a shimmer of bloodred in those locks. Magiere closed on Wynn with a typical scowl, though she smiled, as well.
Wynn twisted away from Leesil and quickly reached out, grabbing the edge of Magiere’s cloak. With a sigh of burdens dropped for the moment, Wynn buried her face against her tall friend.
“What magic are you toying with this time?” Magiere asked, and the rumble in her chest hummed against Wynn’s cheek. “I’d have thought you’d have learned your lesson by now.”
With her friends’ arms around her, Wynn looked up to find Magiere glaring toward the staff lying across the table. Wynn wasn’t certain, but she thought she saw Magiere’s irises go pitch-black. Now they faded quickly to their normal rich brown.
“Where’s Chap?” Wynn asked as she peeked around Magiere.
Here.
She saw him as his answer filled her head. His silvery blue-gray fur shimmered in the low light. He stood outside the alcove archway, but he was looking down the outer passage. Why didn’t he come to her?
Wynn rushed over, dropping to her knees, and slipped her arms around Chap’s neck. Just before she buried her face in his fur, he whipped his whole tongue across her face.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered, and then suddenly remembered Shade.
Is that her . . . my daughter? Is that what you call her?
Wynn lifted her head. Of course he hadn’t known. He’d been long gone from the Elven Territories before Lily had given birth to their children.
“Yes!” she answered, looking about and finally following Chap’s sightline. “I named her . . . or she named herself . . . after . . .”
Wynn looked down the passage.
So little light leaked from the alcove that she barely made out Shade’s form, but that light sparkled in Shade’s eyes. Wynn heard Shade begin to growl.
Why would she do that? It was obvious these were friends, and especially with her father finally here.
“What . . . who is that?”
Magiere stood behind Wynn in the alcove’s archway and was looking down the passage.
“One of Chap’s children—his daughter,” Wynn answered.
“What?” Leesil tucked into the archway next to Magiere.
Wynn looked at Chap. “You didn’t tell them? Why?”
In their separate ways, they are both fixed on those they consider family. It would have been another contention, another distraction from what had to be put before ourselves.
“How?” Leesil interrupted, unaware of anything passing between Chap and Wynn. “Who’s the mother?”
“The white majay-hì, I’d guess,” Magiere barely whispered.
It sounded almost sad to Wynn.
Leesil huffed, perhaps a half laugh. “Why, Chap, you ol’ dog, you.”
Instead of chiding him for crudeness, Magiere looked away.
“Shade?” Wynn called out.
Shade was barely more than a black shadow hunkering and growling in the dark. Those pinpricks of eyes vanished, and Wynn heard the click of claws on stone recede in the distance. She was about to call out when Chap interrupted.
Let her go. There is nothing here for her . . . except you.
“Yes, there is,” Wynn returned. “You’re her father.”
No . . . only the one who forced a purpose on her through her mother. That is all I am to her.
Wynn was confounded, much as she partly understood the problem. She didn’t ask him why he had done that, didn’t tell him he shouldn’t have. She couldn’t imagine being without Shade. But there was so much in her head that she had to let some of it out.
“What of the first orb?” she asked Chap, but it was Magiere who answered.
“First? How do you know of the other one?”
Wynn looked up into Magiere’s eyes. “There are five, but how would you know—”
“Five?” Leesil asked sharply.
Magiere stared down at Wynn and then turned away into the alcove.
Leesil ripped off his cloak and tossed it too hard toward the table. It slid off to the floor, but he left it there. He pushed his hands through his hair, almost covering his ears for an instant.
One sleeve of his wool pullover was raggedly torn off. Long, parallel scars ran along his forearm, like the marks of claws. Leesil had a tendency to gather scars, but Wynn had never seen these before. He shut his eyes hard.
Magiere glanced at him as she dropped onto the one stool at the table.
The orbs are safe. I have seen to that.
“Orbs?” Wynn echoed back at Chap. “You had one . . . I found another.”
Chap turned his head to look at her, his ears falling for an instant.
“That leaves three,” she added.
No, if your count is correct, there are two left.
Chap gazed down the passage, though no one remained there to see.
Wynn was lost, uncertain what it all meant, but for one thing. Wherever her friends had gone to hide the first orb, they had uncovered another one.
Suddenly, she wanted to go over what little she had copied from Chane’s scroll and try to see which one they had found. And that thought made her turn.
Magiere glanced sidelong toward Leesil, as if she wouldn’t look directly at him. He had his back to her and remained so. Neither said a word, not even to each other. And there was something more.
Wynn began to panic as she watched Magiere sitting in cold silence.
Chane would soon return, and Magiere was here.
Wynn looked to Chap, wishing she could just be with him, be with all of them, and try to bring Shade back. But an awful question lingered around her, as if it hung out there in dark of the catacombs beyond the reach of the cold lamp’s light.
“What happened to you,” Wynn asked, “all of you . . . in the Wastes?”
Though she waited, Chap didn’t answer—not yet.
BY BARB AND J. C. HENDEE
THE NOBLE DEAD SAGA—SERIES ONE
DHAMPIR
THIEF OF LIVES
SISTER OF THE DEAD
TRAITOR TO THE BLOOD
REBEL FAY
CHILD OF A DEAD GOD
THE NOBLE DEAD SAGA—SERIES TWO
IN SHADE AND SHADOW
THROUGH STONE AND SEA
OF TRUTH AND BEASTS
ALSO BY BARB HENDEE
THE VAMPIRE MEMORIES SERIES
BLOOD MEMORIES
HUNTING MEMORIES
MEMORIES OF ENVY
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
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br /> CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
EPILOGUE
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
EPILOGUE