“You’ve a price on your head, pirate, and we aim to collect,” the bearded man said. He pulled a large, curving blade from the sheath at his waist.
“Ah. Bounty hunters from Liang. I suppose I should have expected this. How much are they offering you?”
“The emperors of Liang and the Ridaeron Dynasty have offered fifty thousand rubles and our weight in jewels for your head… and your hook.”
Without wasting any more words, the bearded man lunged forward with his heavy sword. Quicker than she could blink, James blocked with his hook and pulled his sword in the same movement, slashing out with the razor-edged blade. The second attacker had two curved scimitars engraved with runes.
“Belle, flee while you can!”
Flee? What did he take her to be? Refusing to abandon her friend to the ruffians in the alley, she held her ground and zipped between James and the aggressor coming up on his rear. They had him outnumbered four to one. While she had seen him spar with the other pirates on the deck, those had been friendly practice matches.
These men wanted nothing less than his neck.
“You leave my friend alone,” Tink seethed, too furious to see anything more than red. It surrounded her in a haze of livid energy, and she glowed brighter than she ever had before.
“What is this? A sprite here, of all places?”
“Don’t damage it too badly. Its wings will fetch a good price when we return home,” one of the others said.
James lunged forward with his cutlass, drawing the attention back to him. “I mean it, Belle. This isn’t any place for you to be,” he called back to her. Blades touched, and the edge of a sword sang as it glided over James’s hook. He ducked and pivoted to block, still three against one in a battle where no one appeared ashamed for teaming up against a one-armed pirate. “You won’t harm a hair on her.”
Evading the open palm attempting to grab her out of the air, she channeled her magic into a cloud of flames. The fairy fire became a rush of embers, and wherever they touched, it quickly caught fire, despite her target’s desperate attempts to pat the fires out. Within seconds, the panicking man was ablaze and running in terror.
“He has a feisty one. Forget the wings and smash it!” the bearded man called out.
“Oh no, you don’t!” No one was going to smash her. Triumphant in her first victory, Tink turned her fiery attacks on the man who had ordered her death.
The bearded man swatted at her with the flat of his blade. The wind current knocked Tink off course, and she tumbled through the air, head spinning, and narrowly missed crashing into the alley wall. Once the world stopped moving, she rushed back, drawing once again on her flagging strength for another wave of fairy fire. Her attacker blocked the flames with his open palm. The ring around his index finger blazed with power and absorbed the spell.
In that moment, she provided the distraction her pirate needed. He thrust forward, claiming one assailant’s life. “Good one, Belle!” he called to her in approval, although two enemies remained.
Energy depleted, Tink tried to think what else she could do to help. She swerved up beyond the bearded man’s reach then became a blazing bolt of furious light, a red streak charging toward him with her dagger held like a spear. Evading his hand at the last moment, she swerved on course again and plunged her weapon directly into the flesh of the mercenary’s ugly hooked nose.
“Ah!” He cried out and stumbled back. Taking advantage of his disorientation, she charged in again and bloodied his eye. It only took one jab from her thorn-sized dagger. The bearded man screamed in pain, his sword dropping to the ground as he reached up to his face. Leaving her weapon in his eyeball, Tink watched him run off like the coward he truly was.
Behind her, James put up a ferocious effort against the last bounty hunter, despite the disadvantage of having only a single weapon. The Liangese mercenary’s swords gleamed with magical luster, enabling him to perform one effortless parry after the next. He and James met each other stroke for stroke, two skilled men fighting for their lives.
For years, Tink had watched Conall adapt to battle by using his sword or werewolven body, but she’d never felt compelled to admire the beauty in his fighting form. James was different, maneuvering the sword with finesse. As he found an opening, he kicked with his boot into the bounty hunter’s thigh, causing him to stumble, and then James dropped the cutlass on the ground.
Before Tink could question why he’d abandoned the weapon, James drew his gun and fired the round pointblank, burying the slug into his opponent’s unarmored chest. The man jerked back and staggered, with a hand to his bloodied torso, mouth forming a small “o” and eyes wide open.
Unconcerned with the dying mercenary, James holstered the gun in his belt and swept his blade from the ground. He spun to face her with worried blue eyes slit against the perspiration trickling down his brow.
Had the fight truly lasted so long?
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No. Are you?” She scrutinized him from head to toe. They hadn’t even cut him once, and throughout the fight, he’d handled the cutlass with endless grace.
“Far from it. I was more concerned for you, but now I see you’re as fierce as you are tiny, little one.”
How could she remain angry when he’d paid her such a wonderful compliment she’d never heard from her friend Conall?
“If it wasn’t for their sneaky traps, they’d never have caught me to begin with.”
“I believe it.” He wiped his sword against his pants, the blood indistinguishable on the dark fabric.
“What now? Two of them got away.”
“True, but they’re wounded, thanks to you. Joaidane won’t be happy about Liangese bounty hunters poking around his city. He’s kicked them out in the past,” James said. He sheathed his blade then moved over to the groaning man on the ground.
“Who hired you?”
With his last breath, the mercenary spit at James.
Tink wrung her small hands together and returned to her pirate’s shoulder, wings drooped behind her. “Do you think there will be more?”
“Doubtful. At least, not this soon, but we’ll probably set sail as soon as supplies are gathered rather than spend any extra time here.”
“I’m sorry.”
James blinked and turned his head to look at her. “Whatever are you sorry for, Belle? This isn’t your fault.”
“But your vacation from the sea is ruined.”
“Is that what you think?” He scooped her from his shoulder and brought her in front of him. “I’ll have you know, today is no worse for having battled alongside you. Not only are you tiny, but loyal and dependable in a fight, little Belle. I would have you beside me in battle over my choice of pirates.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he confirmed, solemn features filled with truth. “Now, let’s pay a visit to Joaidane and tell him of our two friends here, shall we? He deserves to know there are mercenaries in his backyard, and I doubt he’ll be thrilled to know they were sent by the Emperor of Liang.”
Chapter
ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL SUMMER day dawned in Cairn Ocland when Conall carried Kendric outside for a breath of morning air. Sorcha had predicted Tink would arrive any day now with her new little friend in tow, so he patiently waited for her to buzz into his face, full of giggles and laughter.
It had been funny, at first. When she failed to return after the first month, Sorcha had suggested the two sprites were becoming acquainted on a personal level.
“You’re not suggesting… Tink? There’s no possible way my Tink would… Don’t even suggest it,” Conall had growled.
“Why not?”
“Tink isn’t interested in mating. You heard what she said. Sprites do no such thing.”
“You don’t know what Tink is interested in doing, and, for the record, I asked her about it. They do. They do it plenty, if and when the urge is there,” his wife had told him with triumph ringing in her voice. “There’s no w
ee ones created from the act, but they have a hearty enjoyment of it when there are male sprites about to satisfy them—”
“I don’t want to hear any more.”
Sorcha had relented, laughing at him all the while he sulked because he loathed the idea of his little Tink knowing anyone on an intimate level. She had become, in a way, like his first child. A daughter more than a friend. Or even a close sister.
As they approached the third month, Conall feared for his little sister’s safety.
“Where could she be?” he murmured while scanning the trees with his son in his arms. He ventured forward and stroked Kendric’s back when the fussy baby made a disagreeable noise.
“Conall?” Sorcha’s voice disturbed the peaceful forest. “What are you doing out here this early in the day?”
“Still no sign of Tink. I was thinking, if I head south, I may be able to find some sign of her. Perhaps someone has seen her in one of the other villages.”
“She’s having the time of her life with another sprite. Give her time.”
“It’s been close to three months since she left on this blasted journey, Sorcha,” he snapped without meaning to raise his voice. “Three months. I don’t care what you say, I’m going to find these birthlands and bring our Tink home where she belongs. She can play with her new lad here to her heart’s content if that’s what they’re up to.”
“All right.”
“All right?”
Sorcha nodded. “If you’re to go look for Tink, then I will go as well, Conall. She’s my friend as much as she is yours.”
“Your place is here with Kendric.”
“Our place is together as a family. Do you believe for all the time my parents traveled with us that they ever separated? That Mum gave up her way of life and went home to the villages once she became pregnant with Egan and me? Never.” With a few deft movements of her hands, she fashioned a loop of fabric into a sling then took their infant and nestled him within it. Content with his mother’s warmth, Kendric snuggled against her. “I’ll fetch my bow. You inform the wolves of our plan to leave.”
He sagged with relief. Too wise to argue with his wife, he nodded and dipped down to kiss her instead. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. She’s my Tink, too.”
By the time Sorcha emerged in her armor with their travel gear, he’d already alerted their clansmen of the plan and mailed a letter by eagle to the king and queen, asking if Anastasia would gaze into her crystal ball to lend them any clues.
“I can’t believe we’re taking the wee one with us on a journey south.”
“It’ll be educational for him,” Sorcha replied. “Besides, we’re in safe times now. There are no Scourge, no dangers.”
Within seconds of Conall undergoing his transformation from two-legged man to four-legged beast, Sorcha climbed astride him and claimed a handful of the fur on his withers.
They rode to Calbronnoch first and asked if anyone had seen their little friend. Conall visited the few clan members who had chosen to live in the city while his wife spoke with her family.
“Anything?” Conall asked when Sorcha rejoined him.
“No. She didn’t pass through this way, which means we should start southward. I can’t imagine her heading west without stopping to grab some of Gran’s honey cakes. Gran would have told us if Tink visited her.”
He swore under his breath and shaded his eyes against the sun while gazing toward the southern road. “We should send a bird east to Ardal, just to be sure.”
“Egan is going that way himself,” Sorcha said. “Mum and Dad are going to ride west to Frosweik to search along that route. They’ll alert every hunter they pass to be on the lookout for Tink. She’s so well known, after all. That leaves the south to us.”
Admiration for his wife flooded through Conall. He pulled her close, mindful of Kendric between them, and kissed her brow while thanking the stars for the day they guided him into her life.
“Did you want to stay here for the night?” he asked once he released her.
“Only if you need the rest. Otherwise, Kendric and I are good to set out.”
“Then let’s get going.”
For three days they ran south, but discovered no word of their little friend. No one had seen her, but everywhere they went they found volunteers to expand the search. It didn’t matter that none of them personally knew Tinker Bell. They were glad to help one of their own.
That was the Oclander way, a kingdom of selfless neighbors who looked after one another.
On the fourth day, the bleak clouds of an unforgiving summer storm chased them into shelter. As much as Conall wanted to press on, he would never put their child’s welfare at risk in the rain, and they sought refuge on a cozy farmstead.
A middle-aged woman ushered them inside the moment she opened the door to find them on her stoop. Wrapped within her waterproof red cloak, Sorcha and the baby remained shielded from the weather, but Conall had been soaked to the bone.
“You three look quite the sight,” the woman said as she bustled them inside, where a cheerful fire warmed the home. “I’m Miranda. My husband was caught out in the storm, but he should be along shortly. Have you come a long way?”
“Conall and Sorcha of Clan TalWolthe. We’ve come from Calbronnoch,” Sorcha replied. “Thank you so much for letting us inside.”
“Think nothing of it. What brings you all the way down here from the north? There’s naught much else but crops and sheep.”
“We’re looking for a friend of ours, a sprite by the name of Tinker Bell.”
“I don’t know about the name, seeing as how I can’t understand woodkin speak, but we had a sprite stay with us a few months back.”
A spark of hope ignited in Conall’s heart, pushing away the dread that had slowly been creeping in. “What did she look like? How long did she stay?”
“Pretty thing with blonde hair and green eyes. She made those for the children.” She gestured to a pair of pipes resting on the table.
“Tink… It was Tink.” A deep relief loosened the tension he’d been holding onto since their departure. “Please, do you recall which way she went?”
“Aye. The little ones wanted to watch her leave when morning came. She flew south from here. I cautioned her to be mindful of the forest, and she kissed my cheek. That’s the last we saw of her.”
Overcome with appreciation, Conall took the woman by her shoulders and startled her with a kiss to each cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome, though I did nothing.” Miranda blinked up at him owlishly while childish giggles sounded from the top of the stairs.
“You did plenty. You soothed his worried mind and gave him some peace. We’ve been worried about her.”
“This means we’re on the right path if she’s come this far.”
“We’ll find her, Conall.”
Sweet stars, he wanted his wife to be right about Tink losing track of the time with her new friend.
* * *
Once Sorcha had nursed and cleaned the baby, they enjoyed a hot bath courtesy of Miranda. Most of the new farms in the southern reach pumped their water from wells and heated it with furnaces, a wondrous technology spreading northward to Creag Morden thanks to a treaty between Anastasia and her father. Afterward, they warmed in a dry change of clothes in front of the hearth while the farmer’s wife served them hearty bowls of lamb stew.
Thank the stars for benevolent hosts. He’d been starving, their rations and what he’d been able to hunt not enough to offset the great amount of energy spent during their travel. Some years had passed since the last time Conall held a dead sprint over so great a distance. Even then, he hadn’t carried Sorcha the entire way.
“Anastasia should have attempted to summon us in her ball by now. Do you think she’s received your message?”
“Perhaps not. That storm swept in from the west and could have delayed our bird. Try the mirror again. I’ll hold Kendric while you do it.”
He took Kendric in his arms and smiled down at the dozing boy. He’d be walking soon, which meant his first shift wasn’t far ahead. Conall looked forward to the day, but he’d always expected Tink to be present for the occasion.
Sorcha pulled a small folding mirror from her pack then traced her fingertip along the rune-engraved silver frame. The magical communication device only worked if Anastasia was within hearing range of the crystal ball attuned to it. Otherwise, Sorcha would be speaking to an empty room.
“Please be there to hear me, Ana.”
“No luck?”
“I guess she must be away—”
“Sorcha?” the queen’s melodic voice echoed from the mirror.
“Ana!”
Queen Anastasia’s concerned face appeared in the glossy surface. “Sorcha, it’s good to see you after so long. Is there any news? Have you found her? I only received your letter this evening.”
Sorcha shook her head. “Not yet, but she stopped a night at this farm. Have you looked into your ball?”
“Nothing. I’ve found nothing at all, so I’m sending Alistair to aid you.” Anastasia pursed her lips. “I have an idea of where to find these fairy birthlands. If my suspicions are correct, it may account for why there’s suddenly a shortage of wee ones in the forests. In the meantime, I’ll continue to widen my net and search throughout Cairn Ocland.”
“Please do, Ana. Conall is dreadfully worried. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
He opened his mouth to protest her observations, then thought better of it and wisely remained silent. The truth was, his wife knew him better than anyone, and she was right.
“I understand. Tink is a friend to us all. Take care in your journey and burn the scarlet flare stones each night whenever you make camp. In fact, toss one into the hearth now. They leave a smoke stain against the sky, and Alistair shall have an easier time of tracking you both.”
“I’ll be sure to warn Miss Miranda and her family that a dragon will be flying over.”
Belle and the Pirate Page 11