by S. D. Grimm
She dropped into a curtsy, head bowed. “Thank you.”
He strode over and offered her the wine. She stared at the bracer as she took the drink. The relief in the metal was a coiled dragon that looked like a snake ready to strike. “What’s that?”
“A gift. I never remove it. That’s not a problem, is it?”
She set the glass on the table. The currant-red liquid sloshed as she trembled. A drip slid out of the cup and over her fingers. She dared not put them to her mouth. Instead, she wiped them on her dress. The crimson had stained her fingers as if she’d sliced them with a knife.
Balton cleared his throat. The sound startled her. He was closer than she realized. He lifted her left hand, the stained hand, and stared at the ring. “Have you considered my offer?”
“I have.” She calmed herself and looked into his icy eyes. A smile spread across her lips that she hoped was seductive. “I have been holding on to a dream for too long. Logan is never coming for me. I might as well be dead to him. You, on the other hand, have always been kind to me. You’re strong and powerful. I shall accept your offer and want for nothing.”
A smirk slid across his cocky face. “I am so pleased to hear you say that. Now . . .” He set down his glass and gripped her arms in his strong hands. Pinching skin. “May I suggest—”
“That you kiss me?”
His grizzled eyebrows rose, and he grinned. “I’m glad to see you’re so willing.”
She placed her hand on his scarred chest and his breathing quickened. “May I call you Felix?”
“Please.”
She stretched her neck. Closed her eyes. Choked back tears. “Kiss me, Felix.”
Hot arms squeezed her close. Pivoted her toward the bed. She opened her eyes as she slammed against the mattress. His moist lips hit hers with a brutal force, as if he were claiming something, and she wanted to scream.
Connor’s fingers curled into fists as he paced in front of Balton’s chamber. His mother had asked for five minutes. That was all she’d get. No more. The tangle flower should work fast. Thea better not have been lying about that. Doubtless it would knock his mother out, too, since she wore it on her lips.
He stopped walking and leaned against the wall, his wolf-sharp hearing tuned in to the conversation in the other room. She was accepting his offer. Connor tapped his head against the wall behind him as the time passed excruciatingly slowly. If that man had done more than kiss his mother, he’d personally rip out the general’s throat.
“Connor!”
He sprang off the wall and raced toward Balton’s room. He pulled out his dagger and slammed his shoulder into the door. It flew open. His mother lay slumped on the bed with a half-naked Balton on top of her. Neither of them moved. Connor checked the hall before he pushed the door closed. Then he scratched the back of his head. Well, the stuff had worked—and fast.
He hefted the man off of his mother and removed the bracer. Slipped it onto his arm. He stared at the gold piece. An intricate design of a dragon’s head circled the metal. Two eyes stared back at him and he pulled his sleeve over it. The bracer didn’t feel right sitting there all cold against his skin. And heavy.
Connor scooped Rebekah up and gently placed her on the duvet. Then he hefted Balton over, careful not to wake him. Connor pulled the rope from beneath his tunic and tied Balton’s wrists and ankles to the bed frame. That should hold him in case he didn’t stay out long. Then he shoved a handkerchief into the general’s mouth.
Now Connor just had to wait for him to wake.
Rebekah stirred first.
He raced to her side. “Mother. Are you okay?”
She nodded, lips drawn into a tight line. “Did you get it?”
He pulled up his sleeve to show her. “You might want to leave.”
“I’m staying.” She gave him that hard-eyed look that reminded him he was still her son.
Balton jolted up. Muffled shouts came from beneath the handkerchief. Connor towered over the bed and looked down at the general. Even tied up and gagged, the man was menacing.
Connor’s hackles rose. He pressed his fist against Balton’s chest, just below the man’s sternum, so that Balton grunted. “Quit screaming and thrashing. You don’t need guards.” A throb pulsed in Connor’s head.
Balton lay quiet and still.
Connor removed Balton’s gag. “Keep quiet.”
Pain stabbed through his temples and he staggered back a step.
Connor closed one eye but caught Balton staring at him intently. He couldn’t show weakness.
“Connor?” Rebekah sat up.
He put out his hand to stop her from getting up. Maybe he could ask the questions without using the compulsion. Maybe Balton would just answer. Connor pulled up his sleeve and pointed to the bracer. “Who told you about this?”
Balton chuckled.
Connor braced himself against the bed frame and kept his voice calm. “Answer me.”
The throb pulsed like a heartbeat of pain in his head. He clutched the bed frame, his knuckles white.
Balton tipped his chin up. “Idla. She got it from a wizard named Rubius. I’m the only one who knew she had it.”
“Rubius what?” His knees weakened. The room started spinning. Sweat trickled between his eyes.
“Deltine. You don’t look so good.”
“Delti—” He knew that name. “You will forget about the bracer. You will forget I was here. You will remember that my mother is going to be your beautiful bride—” The pain warned him to stop. Everything spun, but he kept Balton’s eyes in his gaze. “But you won’t defile her. You will wait until after your wedding.”
Connor pressed the heel of his hand into his temple and groaned. “Do you understand?”
“Connor?” Rebekah touched his back.
Balton nodded, his eyes cloudy. “I do.”
“Good.” Connor pressed his palms against his eyes. They wanted to pop out of his skull. Then his pounding head hit the floor.
Chapter 34
Good Day to See
the Future
Jayden stood in front of the domed building. The library of Erinecath was like nothing she’d ever seen. It towered as tall as the trees. Beautiful reliefs covered the building. People exited the library with their noses in books. They said “Good day” to every person they passed. One tall man with a bald head had even said “Good day” to her shadow.
Logan had decided to come to this city, which lay north of Salea, before going to the Forest of Legends to find his daughter. He needed the book that would tell him where the Whisperer was. Hopefully Franco hadn’t sent someone here for it.
She touched her daggers so often now, turning off the emotions, it had become habit. She caught herself holding them without even realizing she’d touched them. Every time she replaced them in their sheaths, she reminded herself that warriors didn’t let emotions get in the way. And she wouldn’t let the others down by allowing that to happen to her.
The library’s domed building towered over her in the sunshine, and her stomach fluttered as if a swarm of hummingbirds lived inside. Did answers await inside?
She clutched her daggers to calm the fluttering, but it didn’t seem to work. Everything else Thea had told her had come true so far. Her death seemed imminent now. Maybe she could just look in the book of Deliverer history and see if they had all died.
Thea said the future could change. And one thing she’d predicted hadn’t come to pass yet—something about a person who couldn’t see being able to see right through her. Absurd.
Thea had also said that the frog and fox would show Jayden her heart’s desire. She swallowed. When they’d danced to “The Frog and the Fox” at Uncle Percy’s and she’d tripped, fallen on top of Ethan—her skin warmed just thinking about it—she’d wanted nothing more than to kiss him.
But Thea had warned her to stay away from her heart’s desire.
Just as well. Jayden had decided not to let emotion rule her—she just wasn’t
very good at it yet.
Logan walked up the library’s steps and Jayden followed, trying to leave her worries at the bottom.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves of books and scrolls lined the walls inside the library of Erinecath. Jayden scanned the titles. Dare she look for the book? What if looking drew attention to herself as a Deliverer? She should just leave it be.
Unless she could find it.
Just take a peek.
A new wave of anxiety rippled through her. The toe of her boot brushed against the ground, causing her to stumble. A gentle grip on her elbow steadied her.
“Careful,” Ethan whispered.
She smiled. “I can’t very well walk through the library tripping over my own feet, can I?”
That boyish grin overtook his face, distorting the fading bruise beneath his eye. “I don’t know how you can walk anywhere very well if you’re tripping over your own feet. But you manage just fine.”
“I manage?”
“It surprises me, honestly, the amount of things those dainty boots of yours get caught on.”
“You think I’m dainty?”
“Roots, sticks, stones, the normal things. But they also get caught on obscure things.”
“Obscure th—”
“Your left foot often catches on your right.”
It was true, but did he have to notice?
He chuckled. “And sometimes just the mere presence of air sets them off kilter.”
Air? What was he, some teasing brother? He laughed. She couldn’t help but join him. She was rather clumsy at times.
Then his face softened. “There’s your smile. I’ve missed it.”
Jayden’s breath snagged on that stumble-inducing air. He missed her smile? To think that he even noticed it.
“This way.” Logan’s voice broke their eye contact, and Ethan followed.
Jayden remained rooted. When Ethan glanced over his shoulder, she pulled a book off the shelf so fast that three others fell with it. Her cheeks felt as though she’d kissed a fire. She couldn’t look at him. Just picked up the books.
One of the books on the shelf had toppled over, and she righted it. Then she saw the title. History of Deliverers of the Second Age.
Her heart seemed to stop.
“It seems the book you’re looking for has been checked out already.” That voice—a distant echo in her thoughts—belonged to the librarian who spoke to Logan.
She stared at the book in her hands. Dare she open it?
Look inside?
Allow it to dictate her own future?
“Go ahead. Look inside.” A warbled voice caught Jayden off guard. A woman with milky-white eyes stared at her. Dead eyes.
“Have I frightened you? I can’t tell. I don’t see. Well, not in the way most people see.” She held out her hands as if she wanted the book.
Jayden handed it to her, and Thea’s warning came flooding back: A woman who could not see would see right through her. And Jayden was supposed to listen to her.
The woman ran her fingers along the pages. Feeling the letters. “What is it that you want the book to tell you?”
That she would survive. “Is it true most of the Deliverers die?”
“Everyone dies.”
“I mean, trying to defeat the Mistress.”
“It’s not a safe quest, but don’t worry your heart about it. The Creator always chooses the right Children.”
She’d heard that before. Perhaps it was the only answer she was going to get. The right Child. “Then the Creator lets them die.”
“I told you, we all die. I don’t know when and neither do you. Don’t let that rule you.” She handed the book back to Jayden and patted her cheek. “You are the right Child. And you have the right talents, too.”
Jayden gasped. “What do you know of my talents?”
The woman seemed to stare into a void. “They scare you. You think they rule you. But it’s less about ruling and more about embracing.”
“What does that mean?”
The old woman placed a wrinkled hand on Jayden’s shoulder. “Stop running from what you’re capable of.” She patted Jayden’s shoulder, then tapped her cane on the floor and walked away while Jayden stared at the book in her hands.
Capable of? Did everyone speak in riddles? What was she capable of? One thing was certain. She could protect her loved ones. And she wasn’t running from that.
Heart thundering, Jayden turned to slide the book back onto the shelf, but a piece of paper stuck out of the top. She opened the book and the paper fluttered to the floor. Strange. There was writing on it.
Softheart,
The stone of Ishkar will help you find your Whisperer. It’s in the Forest of Legends in the camp of Healers. You’re headed there anyway. And I think you believe me now, so I have another warning for you. It’s the hardest for me to see clearly, but after you find the Healer you’re looking for, go through Balta. You don’t have to trust me, but heed my warning. One of you will find something you need at the Winking Fox.
I don’t think you need my signature to know who this is.
Thea. Jayden wanted to crumple the paper. How did that woman have her hands in everything? If she was just leading them into some elaborate trap . . . Jayden paused. Wouldn’t Ethan notice? Besides, what did Thea really know? They weren’t looking for a Healer. She pocketed the note and closed the book so hard that a smacking sound echoed through the library.
Clearly her outburst with the book had ruffled the librarian because he looked at her with his eyebrows mimicking a line of flying geese as she approached.
Then he cleared his throat. “I remember. The book was checked out by a young woman wearing a black leather mask. She called herself Swallow.”
Ethan pulled Logan and Jayden aside and whispered, “I know her. She’s Serena, the one who healed me. She’s in the Forest of Legends.”
“A Healer.” Jayden’s words escaped in a wispy breath. “I—the book I was just looking in—about Deliverers—said something about the stone of Ishkar helping to locate Whisperers.”
Logan regarded her. “Did it say where to find the stone?”
Should she trust Thea? She glanced at Ethan’s expectant face and recalled the frog and the fox. She swallowed. “Healers guard it.”
“Then it’s settled,” Logan said. “We go to the Forest of Legends for my daughter and the stone. No time to lose.”
Chapter 35
Winking Knight
The sun was still high enough, shedding light on the hazy dust cloud that perpetually surrounded Salea. Serena’s bones seemed to hum with a sense of adventure. Oh, that cities could be something a Healer visited regularly. If the Circle ever found out about her using her trips to pick up white linens to venture to Salea, they would have her hide switched twenty ways, and then they’d strip her of her freedom.
That thought sent a cold shiver through her veins. Freedom. May no one ever try to take that from her again, or they’d see what Swallow’s blades were really for.
She approached Salea’s Blind Pig Tavern. Lively music filtered out through the still-opened windows. Rowdy shouts accompanied. She’d come at the right time. The men were starting to get frisky from drink—something Serena would never understand. Apparently the ability to self-heal kept one from becoming inebriated. They would start with the more reckless fights soon. Those were the ones she preferred to win.
She stopped at the dusty road in front of the tavern and glanced at the water trough. The last time she’d been to the Blind Pig she’d met Ethan—or as the locals called him, Stone Wolf. The strange bond she’d felt with him still nagged at her mind. Stronger recently, almost as if he were near again. Perhaps that was what had led her here again tonight. The books she’d read had her convinced she was bonded to him somehow. Now she wanted to know why, and if he felt the same way.
Worn wooden steps led the way up to the tavern’s back door. Serena opened it, stepped inside, and breathed in. The scent was a mix of drink
and wood and people and food—not an offensive smell. Instead, it was strange and familiar at the same time, almost like a piece of her childhood.
The part right before everything else she’d just as soon forget.
As she neared the bar she listened to snippets of conversations. One in particular caught her attention.
“Have you seen him? I heard he’s here tonight.”
“Who?”
“The Knight. He’s the new sport fighter from the Winking Fox.”
“Haven’t heard of him. He must not be any good.”
“Oh, he’s not. Not yet anyway. He’s green yet. My daughter is already begging him for a dance.”
“I guess he’s come here to see how the real men fight.”
A new fighter from the Winking Fox? Stone Wolf trained there. Best fighter since Lone Wolf. Able to make himself as calm as a stone and then strike hard before you even saw it coming. That was how word had reached her anyway, but Serena had seen Ethan rescue a young woman that night. He was a gentleman if there ever was one.
How did this Knight stack up?
A pig of a man wagged his eyebrows at Serena and reached to touch her bottom. “What’s with the mask?” he asked.
She drew a dagger and placed it against his hand, inhibiting his touch.
His eyes narrowed. “If you’re going to draw those, you’d better know how to use them.”
“I’m looking for the Knight.”
The man scoffed. “If he’s in your fighting class, you’d better take more lessons.”
Serena kept walking.
A hand tugged her arm and she spun, dagger ready. The same pig of a man stood there, eyes hungry. “You sure like that blade. They aren’t to be used as toys.”
“I don’t like to be touched.”
He chuckled. “Well, you’d better get used to it, missy. There’s a lot of men who’ll want to touch you. And a toy sword won’t keep them at bay.”
“Then they’ll be sorry.” She lifted her chin.
“Is there trouble, miss?”