by Krista Walsh
“I’m not your superior,” Jeff pointed out.
Tanya shook her head. “It’s nothing. I need to get back to work.”
Jeff gestured down the corridor. “Walk and talk?”
She hesitated a moment, and then shrugged and fell into step beside him. They continued in silence for a while, Jeff not wanting to push her confidence, and Tanya apparently willing to wait until he did.
Finally, he said, “So?” thinking it a safe way to begin.
The serving girl frowned. “I don’t know what good it will do to tell you, but I’m worried about Jayden.”
Jeff’s brow shot up in surprise.
“How come? Has he said something?”
“That’s the trouble. He hasn’t said,” she cast him a sidelong glance, “or done anything. Not since that princess got here. Thank the gods I wasn’t assigned to her. She looks shrewish.”
Jeff trod carefully, knowing how long Tanya had been Jayden’s go-to distraction. “She’s not bad. She’s actually kind of nice. Not what I imagined a princess would be, anyway.”
Tanya sniffed, and then looked at Jeff and smiled. “Before you get any ideas, I’m not speaking out of jealousy. I mean, sure, I care about the man, and he’s a fun playmate, but I’ve never held any delusion he’d drop everything to run off with me. In fact, did you know I’m going to be married next month? To the milliner’s son. My concern really is for Jayden. He’s not happy.”
Jeff, thrown by the announcement of her wedding, took a moment to return to the point. “He has a lot on his mind. A weak excuse, I know, but we’re in the middle of more than one crisis at the moment.”
“I’ve seen him stressed over crises before. This is more than that. It’s her. He’s in love with her.”
Jeff nodded. “I do believe you’re right.”
Tanya huffed and shifted the weight of the bedding in her arms from one hip to the other. They stopped in front of a closed doorway and she leaned back against the wall. “She’s an idiot for not seeing how great he is. She could do a lot worse.”
“If it were as simple as Ana not being interested, I think Jay would have gotten over it,” said Jeff, knowing he shared his opinion at great personal risk if it ever got back to Jayden. “He hasn’t been a portrait-perfect gentleman around her since she arrived. I suspect she’s just as confused as he is.”
Tanya huffed again, not ready to accept Jeff’s opinions about the interloper. “Be that as it may, Jay’s misery is making me miserable, and she is the primary cause. I don’t like her, and I don’t want him this broody when he’s about to ride off into danger. I’m afraid of what he might do. You know him, Jeff.”
Jeff took a slow breath, understanding her concern. While he wasn’t worried about Jayden throwing himself from the roof of the Keep, he knew the warrior well enough to anticipate the extra risks he might take in the upcoming battle. Pushing himself just a bit too hard, playing the hero with a touch too much gusto.
“I’ll try to talk to him before we ride out,” said Jeff.
Now that she’d unloaded her troubles onto Jeff’s shoulders, Tanya’s natural cheer buoyed up, and she flashed him her slyest grin before stepping on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, her free hand sneaking downwards to brush his butt. “I’ve always thought well of you, you know.”
Jeff’s blood pressure, which had almost returned to normal over the course of their conversation, rose, and he cleared his throat. “Good luck with that whole marriage thing.”
She gave him a wink and disappeared into the bedroom to carry on with her duties. Jeff stared at the ceiling and counted to ten.
***
Jeff never did find the opportunity to talk to Jayden before they left. Within the hour, word arrived from Kariel that he was willing to give Jayden the benefit of the doubt about his associations with Jeff and Raul if it meant weeding out Raul’s influence for good. His men would meet Feldall on the other side of the mountain to close in on the village, and he would ensure the troops from House Lyle were there to finish the triangle. None of Raul’s followers would find a way out. The letter had been very explicit on this point.
Within minutes of the courier’s reply, and with their usual efficiency, the Feldall militia prepared for another encounter with an unknown enemy.
“It amazes me,” he said to Venn as they stood at the window in Jasmine’s office, watching as row upon row of troops took their places at the front gate. “Most armies know what they’re in for when they ride out to a fight, but the only thing we can ever predict with Raul’s men is their unpredictability.”
Venn spun a dagger between her fingers, pushing herself away from where she’d been leaning. “I never would have believed it before I came to this hunk of stone,” she said, patting the wall, “but I’ve had more fun fighting for these folks than I did in the years I was on my own. Half the fun is in not knowing.”
Jeff slung his arm around her shoulder and guided her out of the room and towards the stairs. “You say that, but I know somewhere, deep down, you’re frightened out of your wits.”
Venn snorted. “Am not.”
“Are so.”
She pushed him away, and Jeff stumbled on the stairs, laughing. What he didn’t say was that he feared for her, just as he always did. He hoped they all had the resources to handle what came next.
They ran into Maggie, William, and Conrad, Maggie’s balding and burly blacksmith husband, in the foyer of the Keep. Husband and wife were lost in quiet discussion, while their son stood by, arms crossed, staring at the toes of his boots.
“Jeff, there you are,” said Maggie, moving away from Conrad and pushing a heavy satchel into Jeff’s chest. “This is for you.”
“What is it?” he asked. As he pulled the strap over his head to settle on his shoulder, the contents rattled. He lifted the flap to peer inside and saw a collection of small glass vials.
“A little bit of everything,” William said, rousing from his thoughts to approach them.
“This answer is not helpful,” Jeff replied, lifting one vial out to see a puff of green smoke contained within. He didn’t think smoke could ever be malicious, but this one proved him wrong. The vial twitched in his palm as the smoke threw itself against the glass.
Jeff saw the younger man’s cheeks turn pink at his response, and his gaze dart towards Venn. “They’re various spells and things. Mother and I created them.”
Venn grinned, and William’s face flushed deeper. Jeff frowned at them, but refrained from saying anything.
“We didn’t know what you’d need, so we decided to throw it all at you,” Maggie explained. “All you need to know is that when you throw one of those vials at someone, you better make sure no one you care about is standing beside your target. Burn powders, blinding potions—you’re not going into this battle unarmed.”
Jeff’s smile grew to match hers. “About damned time.”
Next, she handed him a small leather pouch, this item much lighter. “This you’ll be familiar with.”
Jeff pulled open the mouth of the pouch, and a tendril of blue smoke crept out, tasting the air. He pulled the leather straps closed before too much of the binding spell emerged, knowing from experience that one does not control the spell—one just aims and hopes.
“I’ll keep this for emergencies,” he said, tying the pouch to his belt.
“Can we go now?” asked Venn. She looked about to dance on the spot. “We don’t want them to leave without us.”
Jeff’s stomach flipped. “I guess we’d better. Before I change my mind and hide under the bed.”
Venn took his hand. “We’re going to find Cassie. Focus on that and smoke bomb the shit out of anyone who gets in your way.”
Jeff chuckled at the image, but her words boosted his courage. Until they walked outside, made their way down the stairs, and stopped on the bridge crossing into the village, and then he quailed, his heart rate increased, and in spite of the sharp wind, his palms broke out in a sweat. Stretched out ahead
of him was the full Feldall force, intimidating the last time he saw them, but even more so for knowing he would be among them.
They were decked out in full armour, the winter sun glinting off the hawk of Feldall that glared from shield and chest. Even the horses were covered in the House colours of green and gold. The troops fidgeted in their saddles, the horses pawed at the ground, all of them raring to go. Jeff wished he could absorb their strength and bravery, and felt ashamed that his knees quaked and threatened to give out from under him.
Maggie pressed her hand in his. “Are you scared?”
Her blue eyes looked large in her pale face, and Jeff wanted nothing more than to put her at ease.
Honesty won.
“Shitless.”
For an instant, he thought she would break down, but she pulled her shoulders back, raised her chin, and said, “Me too.”
Conrad grunted. “I think this is a stupid plan.”
The others looked at him in surprise.
He nodded to emphasise his point, and then added, “And I’m probably the proudest man in Andvell to have both my wife and oldest son be a part of it.”
He tucked a beefy arm around Maggie’s waist, which for once was hidden under a travel outfit of tunic and trousers instead of the restrictive leather of her corset, and planted a kiss full on her lips.
He gave her hand a squeeze and they headed over the bridge, around the army and towards the stables, where Paul the stableboy waited with three horses in hand. Ariana and Brady stood near another three saddled horses, waiting for Jasmine and Jayden to give the last of their orders.
Venn automatically went to Corsa and took the reins as her own. The horse snorted and butted his head against her shoulder. Jeff would never have thought the two would get along so well—Venn pixie-small and all in black from hair to boots, and Corsa broad and tall and easily lost in the snow—but other than Jasmine, she was the only person Corsa would tolerate since Corey’s death. Jeff felt a pang of grief at the sight of them, wishing he was also going off with his trusty companion.
He blinked away a few tears and tried to smile as Paul handed over the reins of a brown mare.
“You shouldn’t have any trouble with this one,” said Paul. “Good temperament, easy to lead. Take care of her and she’ll do the same for you.”
Jeff patted her flank. “I’ll do my best, but I don’t trust myself to take care of anyone right now.”
“The sooner we get these vortices closed, and you and Cassie get home, the better,” Conrad agreed. “I’m sorry I won’t be there to help. Or to say hello to your lovely friend. It would have been nice to see her again.”
Jeff smiled. “I’m sure she would have felt the same.”
Conrad extended his hand, giving Jeff’s a shake so firm he thought his fingers might snap. “Get home safely.”
“Ready to move out!” Jayden called from the front of the column.
At Jayden’s order, the others mounted up, Jeff taking slow movements around his new mount, testing the mare’s patience compared to Swish’s developed tolerance. She stayed still while he settled in the saddle, and then he caught up to Venn. Staring out at the sea of faceless, helmeted troops, Jeff felt useless and self-conscious.
“How about you and I stick to the end of the line. It looks comfortable back there.”
“What if we run into trouble?” Venn said, picking up Corsa’s pace so Jeff’s mare followed. “It would be over before we reached it!”
“And wouldn’t that be a shame,” Jeff mumbled.
“Come on, Jeff,” Maggie chimed in. “Half the fun of risking your life is throwing yourself in the middle of it. Think of all the stories you’ll miss out on if you hide in the back row.”
Jeff wanted to argue that he wouldn’t be telling any stories if he got dead, but with his heartbeat thrumming with adrenaline, he tagged along. He was off to find Cassie. In less than four days, she would be in his arms and they would be home.
Suddenly the pace felt too slow, and he wanted to race ahead of everyone to find her that much sooner.
How different he felt compared to the last time Jayden and Jasmine rode off to the Kinnaeth Mountains. Then, he, Cassie, Venn, and Maggie had been left behind, and he’d regretted that he wouldn’t be able to chronicle the battle. Little had he suspected that within forty-eight hours he would be riding like a bat out of hell after Brady, recently risen from the dead, towards a fight that should have been impossible to win. But they had won, after a series of unlikely events that led to the destruction of the Raul-dragon. Anything they faced this time had to be less terrifying than that.
Right?
Jeff tried not to think of what could possibly be worse. Of course, the more he tried not to think of it, the more images popped into his head. Godzilla-sized dead cats, ghosts, giant centipedes.
And always in the background, those swirling vortices, threatening friend and foe. They were enough of a threat. A neutral evil that could not be reasoned with or talked down. Unlike Raul, this evil had no motivations, no limitations. Couldn’t even be distracted by its own ego. Everything hinged on timing—on taking the cabal by surprise and destroying them before they could speed up the process of these rifts devouring the world.
A low whistle pulled him out of his musings. He looked up to find Venn staring at him, and a quick glance over his shoulder showed the gates of the Keep far in the distance. Ariana trailed behind them, and Jeff wondered if she was trying to keep as far as possible from her brooding husband. He thought about inviting her to ride with them, but she appeared content with her own thoughts.
“You’re proving to be a dull travel companion,” said Venn. “I’m about to fall back and start chatting up the princess. What are you worrying about?”
Jeff snorted. “What kind of question is that? What is there not to worry about? But how did you know I was worrying?”
“You had your worrying face on. It’s all pinched and narrow. Really unattractive.”
He stuck out his tongue with a grimace, and then smiled and gave a shrug. “Just wondering what we’ll do if they’ve bred cockroaches or silverfish to swarm us.” The Sisters’ words came back to him. “Or locusts.”
Venn shivered. “Tabarnak, I hope not.”
Jeff grinned at the demonstration of the Quebecois French Venn had picked up during her three months in Montreal.
“Blood, I can handle,” she went on. “Even the dead things. But let’s not joke about bugs, kay?”
“Something Venn Connell is afraid of?” Jeff teased, waggling his eyebrows. “Someone alert the media!”
“Says the man who screamed when he found a spider in his shower.”
“I didn’t scream. Besides, the damn thing fell on me. Let’s see how you react next time a creepy crawly lands on you when you’re vulnerable and naked and covered in shampoo.”
He laughed when he saw Venn shiver at the idea.
“What’s shampoo?” Maggie asked, falling back to ride on Jeff’s other side, leaving William and Brady to continue a discussion about planned changes to the library catalogue. “Because this sounds like a fun conversation.”
Jeff recognised the forced cheer in her voice, and it struck him how much it mimicked his own. Even Venn, now that he looked at her, didn’t appear entirely at ease. They were trying to convince themselves they were calm.
When did the conversation take on such awkward cheer?
As soon as the question popped into his head, he felt the change in the air. Under his heavy coat, his skin prickled, and the hair on the back of his neck rose. Full of nervous energy, he swivelled in his saddle, eyes peeled for riders on the road, or swirling snow on the windless path. Anything that might have sent up the red flags.
“You feel it, too?” asked Maggie.
She jerked her head towards Jasmine and Jayden, the twins having drawn closer to confer in private while Brady, like Jeff, appeared on high alert.
Jeff eased his grip on the mare’s reins, and she slo
wed. William fell back to take Jeff’s place beside his mother, who reached out to take his hand, and Venn patted the sheath at her waist. Jayden dropped the reins to steer his horse with his knees, hand reaching for his sword, while Jasmine prepared to release her bow from the saddle.
Not wanting to fall too far behind, Jeff nudged his mare up beside Brady.
“What’s going on?” he asked, in case the counsellor had heard something from Jasmine.
“We don’t know,” Brady replied. The words were calm and simple, but something in the counsellor’s voice sent a chill down Jeff’s spine. He reached out to grab his friend’s shoulder.
“Hey, are you all right?”
“We are fine,” came the answer. That double voice. Brady on the surface and centuries underneath. He twisted his head towards Jeff, and Jeff’s hand tightened on his shoulder, breath catching in his throat.
In that moment, Brady was no longer there on that road. Jeff was talking to the dragon.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Looking back at him, the counsellor’s eyes showed only white, rolled back in his head, but still seeing. Jeff wanted to give him a shake, do what he could to bring back his friend, but it felt… disrespectful. Instead, he dropped his hand. His mare drew to a halt, Brady’s piebald following suit.
“Jeff?” Jasmine called his attention. “What’s wrong?”
Apparently the eeriness of their exchange had gone unheard by the others. Jasmine didn’t know yet that the tension she sensed emanated from her husband. Jeff hated to be the one to break it to her, but now the others had stopped and were closing in. With a breath, he leaned away, allowed her to ride closer and see. He watched the blood leech out of her face, leaving her starch white from brow to chin.
“Brady?” His name passed through her lips in no more than a whisper.
Her husband cocked his head, and Jeff knew more than saw those white eyes shift towards her.
“Jax, gods!” Maggie cried. “Jeff—catch her!”
Jeff, closest to her, twisted sideways to reach an arm around Jasmine before she could slip from Nalen’s height.