The Crystal Wood (Half-Breed Book 2)

by Brittany Comeaux

  “Children,” Alastor remarked. “I'm glad I never had any.”

  “Now that that's done,” Edric said, “why don't we get on with this?”

  Conley didn't answer or turn around. His eyes were fixed on the door where Erril had just run through. Her words had his mind racing. He tried to look around the room a the faces of his subjects, but no one would look him in the eye.

  Conley wouldn't look at himself either.

  “Count Rowan,” Edric said, a bit louder this time.

  Conley still didn't turn around, but he did answer, “Let's go.”

  Conley led the two nobles up to his study, where he shut the door to everyone else.

  “Now then, shall we get started?” Alastor began. “You've already delivered your terms, now it's time to hear ours.”

  Conley rested his hands on his desk and answered, “Fine, what are your terms?”

  “As I said before, you will be allowed to retain your position as Count, but you must still answer to us,” Alastor said.

  “Fine,” Conley said.

  “Next, you are to provide our armed forces with as many resources as we need for our conquest. This includes food, weapons, coin, and shelter.”

  “What about the people of Ironbarrow? We have to keep what we need to survive,” Conley protested.

  “If you want to keep your city, I suggest you do not question our rule,” Edric remarked.

  Conley held his tongue.

  Alastor then continued, “And there's one last thing.”

  “Which is?” Conley pressed.

  “It's simple, Count Rowan.”

  Conley turned sharply to his window, where none other than the Serpent stood perched on the window sill of the open window.

  “Jin,” Conley growled. “What do you want?”

  Jin stepped down from the window sill and said, “As you can well imagine, we already have quite an abundance of soldiers. But even with our combined armies, Eastwold, Whitspire, and my Shadow Hand operatives, we need to ensure that we have numbers on our side. Therefore, my terms for you, Conley, is that you provide us with men from your army to lead a conquest to the Crystal Wood.”

  “The Crystal Wood?” Conley said. “What do you want there?”

  “Now now, Conley,” Jin said. “I mustn't give away all of my secrets.”

  Conley was about to tell Jin where to go when he was suddenly struck with an idea. If successful, it would mean that he could not only regain control of Ironbarrow, but also provide assistance to Varg and Milea and help them to prevent a catastrophe in the Crystal Wood.

  Conley swallowed his pride and answered, “Very well, you may use my armed forces. But remember, everyone is to be left unharmed.”

  “Of course,” Jin said.

  Judging by his awful grin, however, Conley soon doubted that Jin had any intention to keep that promise.

  “Do we have an arrangement, then?” Alastor asked.

  “Yes, we do,” Conley replied.

  Conley returned to his chambers, where Catrina, Erril, Oliva, and Tain waited for him. His chest tightened at the sight of them, but this time he didn't look away from anyone.

  “Uncle Conley,” Oliva said softly, “we heard what happened...”

  “I'm sorry,” he finally said, “I was just afraid of what would have happened if we resisted.”

  “We understand,” Oliva replied, “and we will make sure that our people are not mistreated under the new rule.”

  “Of course, and with any luck, this new rule will only be temporary,” Conley said. “We also need to get word to Varg and Milea somehow, because it seems that after their conquest here, Jin, Alastor, and Greenwood are plotting a siege of the Crystal Wood.”

  “What could Jin be after?” Catrina asked. “Did they give you any idea of why they want to go there?”

  “No,” Conley said, “but regardless, we need to prevent it from happening. I have a plan to stop all this, but I need to know that all of you trust me and believe that together, we can get out of this.”

  “I trust you, Uncle Conley,” Oliva said.

  “As do I,” Tain replied, something that Conley never expected him to say.

  The Count looked to his wife, who smiled and said, “I wouldn't have married you if I didn't trust you. I'll stand by your side even as the world crumbles around us.”

  Conley's heart lifted at his wife's words, but then he looked to Erril.

  The girl soon became aware that all eyes in the room were glued onto her. She looked around the room until her eyes met Conley's. She studied him furiously, then finally said, “I don't trust someone who isn't willing to fight for his own people.”

  Conley's heard sank until Erril spoke again.

  “But after giving it some thought,” she said, “I realize that fighting for your people doesn't always mean stepping onto a battlefield. I realize now that sometimes swallowing your pride and taking a step back is sometimes the best way to save as many lives as possible.”

  She stepped towards Conley with her head hanging low, then she looked up to him and said, “I trust you, Conley.”

  Conley then pulled Erril closer to him and wrapped his arms around her. He could hear her sniffling even though she tried to hide it. As she finally pulled away, she his her wet, red eyes from view and Conley didn't try to see her face.

  Instead, he looked to the others, and the only person with dry eyes was unsurprisingly Tain.

  “Now that that's out of the way,” the water elf said, “why don't you tell us your plan?”

  Conley cleared his throat, then said, “All right, here's what we're going to do.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Varg and Milea returned to the royal quarters to find Queen Shalia waiting. She stood when they entered and eagerly walked towards them.

  “You've returned,” she said. “Did you learn anything?”

  “Nothing new,” Milea admitted. “We were actually hoping that you might have some ideas.”

  “Well,” the queen replied, “since your vision included the first queen of the elves, then perhaps you should check the castle library for the book on the royal family lineage. It may contain a clue as to why you saw her.”

  “If you think so,” Milea replied. “It's not like we have any ideas ourselves.”

  Milea then yawned, at which point the queen said, “Perhaps your research should wait until tomorrow.”

  Milea wanted to protest, but her body wouldn't hear of it. Every inch of her body ached for sleep.

  “I suppose we could both do with a bit of rest,” Milea said.

  “Good. I'll have a servant make up two guest rooms,” Shalia said. “I'll also have them draw you each a bath.”

  “That would be nice, thank you,” Milea replied.

  Once the servants returned, Varg and Milea were each led to a room, first Varg, then Milea. Her room was connected to another room built with a large, square tub built into the floor with a seating raised all around the sides on the inside. The tub was full of steaming water, a welcoming sight to a woman covered in several days worth of muck. The floor surrounding the tub was made of polished stone like the rest of the castle, and on the walls hung several glowing green crystals that gave off a gentle light and pleasing atmosphere to the bath. A basket sat nearby with different soaps and oils, and there was also a small cloth hanging neatly off the side of the basket as well as several bigger cloths nearby.

  The servant offered to assist Milea with her bath, but the latter hastily declined, but thanked the servant and sent her on her way. Once the servant was gone, Milea stripped naked and set her clothes and gear neatly on a table in the guest room. She then returned to the bath, shut the door, and dipped her toes into the waiting water. The hot water stung at first, but Milea slowly edged her way into the water until she was standing on the bottom with the water reaching her hips.

  Milea's muscles protested against the hot water, but they soon relaxed as she sat down on the built in seat and allowed the wate
r to wrap around her sore back and stomach. The water level barely covered her breasts, only an inch or two above her nipples, and once her skin adjusted to the heat, she submerged her whole body under the clear water. She came up and at that moment, it took every ounce of her willpower to not fall asleep. She merely allowed her body to fall limp and float in the heavenly waters and she closed her eyes to shut out the world.

  Suddenly, Milea heard the dull thud of falling feet echoing through the water. Like a cat, she sprung up into a defensive position, ready to fight off an intruder stark naked, only to see a familiar face staring at her.

  “Sorry,” Varg said, “I should have known better than to sneak up on you like that.”

  He was still dressed in his pants, shirt, and boots, but left the rest of his gear, even Frost Fang, in his room.

  “What are you doing here?” Milea huffed.

  Varg took his shirt off and tossed it aside. “I wanted to know if I could join you?”

  Milea raised an eyebrow. “You can't be serious...besides, don't you have your own bath waiting for you?”

  Varg stopped undressing for a moment and said, “I know you don't really forgive me for what happened and frankly, I don't forgive myself either. Still, I can't help but think of you and long for you when we're apart. I'm hoping that...we could just spend some time together. Just for one night?”

  Milea wanted to shout at him to get out, but something stopped her. Despite her own feelings on the situation, Milea still longed to have Varg near her again. Even after the pain he caused her, she missed him.

  But she still couldn't forget...

  Finally, Milea made up her mind. She turned away from him and sat on the seat again and said, “Do whatever you want.”

  It came out a bit more petty that she had intended, but Varg either didn't notice or didn't care. She heard him undressing behind her, and a minute later he was stepping into the water and taking a seat beside her.

  Varg let out a loud sigh as the hot bath had the same effect on his body as it had on hers. He sat there in silence for a time, and the seconds ticked by in agony. Milea simply sat there enjoying the silence until Varg finally broke it.

  “I really love this bath,” he said. “How do they control the water? I see where it comes in from over there, but I don't see a pump.”

  Milea knew he was just trying to ease the tension, so she decided to humor him. “The crystals conduct energy and pump water through the city and the castle from the river,” she explained.

  “I wish they had stuff like this in Fellen,” Varg said. “Conley's castle could sure use a bathroom or two.”

  Milea decided to distract herself by washing up. She grabbed a phial of soap from the basket and the rag and poured a small amount of liquid onto the cloth, then worked up a lather. She then washed herself, not realizing until then just how much she needed it. She started with her hair and worked her way down until she washed her feet.

  Milea submerged herself once she'd cleaned every inch of herself. She reemerged clean and fresh a short time later.

  She looked over to see that Varg had already cleaned himself as well. His white hair clung to his drenched shoulders. His wet skin gleamed under the dim light of the crystals, and Milea caught her eyes traveling downward in time to avert them.

  Milea stepped out of the bath and dried herself off, then went into her room to find a lovely white shift sitting neatly on the bed. She dressed herself, then used the comb on the nearby vanity to untangle the knots in her hair. Varg stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed, as soon as she finished.

  Following an awkward silence, Varg looked to the ground and said, “I...I suppose I'll see you in the morning.”

  Varg picked up his hand as though to touch Milea's face, but at the last second he hesitated and lowered it again.

  “Good night, Milea,” he finally said.

  As Varg turned to walk towards the door, Milea tried to answer him, but no sound would come out. It wasn't until Varg had closed the door behind him and was out of earshot that she finally whispered, “Good night.”

  Milea only hoped that Varg's heightened sense of hearing was strong enough to hear it.

  The next morning, Varg and Milea met with Queen Shalia in the dining area of the royal quarters at breakfast. They joined her at the table and helped themselves to the fruits and tea available.

  “I can take you both to the library as soon as you are ready,” Shalia said.

  “Actually, I'm going to stay behind and watch Zita,” Varg announced. “I don't trust her to stay in that cell for a moment. Besides, I have an idea of how to coax some information out of her.”

  “Very well,” Shalia said. “Milea, I will lead you to the library and have the keeper fetch you the book on our family lineage.”

  “All right,” Milea said, but Varg could sense the apprehension in her voice.

  Zita was exactly where they had left her the night before. In fact, Varg soon wondered if she had even moved since he saw her last.

  When Zita saw Varg, she once again got a sly grin on her face and said, “Back to see me so soon? You must have really missed me.”

  She then noticed that he was alone and said, “And you left your...friend behind. You went out of your way to get some alone time with me.”

  “Don't flatter yourself,” Varg remarked. He soon had an idea and added, “She has far more important things to do than to deal with the likes of you. The only reason I'm even bothering with coming here at all is to make sure you don't escape and run off to Jin.”

  Zita chuckled, then replied, “Well played, Wolf. Well played. However, I can assure you that if I intend to escape, I won't return to the Serpent without news of your demise.”

  “Well since you won't be killing me any time in the near future, we have nothing to worry about,” Varg said.

  “Arrogant, aren't we?” she said. “Lord Jin warned me about that as well.”

  “Arrogance has nothing to do with it,” Varg said, “it's simply that I haven't come as far as I have and done as much as I've done just to be killed by an assassin. If I die, it will be in the heat of an epic battle with an opponent who is far stronger than me.”

  Zita smiled. “Is that why you do what you do? Is your fighting simply a means to an end?”

  “Don't you start that too,” Varg snapped. “It's true, I don't know much else besides fighting, but my battles with the Shadow Hand have given me more reason than ever to do it. I finally have a purpose.”

  “Don't talk to me about purpose,” Zita argued. “Your 'purpose' merely involves condemning what you can't possibly understand all in the name of being a so-called hero to those other entitled, weak-willed wretches.”

  Varg soon felt that there was no further point in arguing with Zita. He sighed, then leaned against the side of her cell.

  After a long silence, Varg decided to take a new approach. He turned his head slightly and then said, “Tell me something, Zita. You say that Jin saved you from a bad life, right?”

  “What do you care?” he heard her say.

  “Well you claim that I couldn't possibly understand why Jin does what he does, so tell me what he's done for you. Help me understand,” Varg said.

  Varg half expected her to give another witty, condescending answer, but instead he received silence. He was about to brush off his question when he finally heard her speak again.

  “I suppose...there's no harm in telling you,” she said. “After all, it just may provide you with the insight you need to see what Lord Jin is really all about.”

  Varg moved from his place at the wall and leaned his arms up against the cell bars, facing inside as Zita got comfortable to tell her story.

  “It all started when I was a small child,” she began. “My earliest memories are of me and my mother and the rest of our clan of people. We belonged to the Lunari, a race of people who were once powerful and prosperous, but we were driven out of our land centuries ago by war, famine, and disease. We became m
igrants soon after, and with each generation that passed, our numbers dwindled bit by bit.

  “You see, our people were cursed. We were envied by our enemies, and it was for that reason that they inflicted a deadly disease on our people that affected only our people. Slowly, but surely, one by one, our people succumbed to the dreaded illness. Because there is no cure, our numbers dwindled and by the time I came along, there was only around thirty people left in our clan.

  “I was always told that my father had also contracted the disease shortly after I was born and he died a few months later. My mother raised me alone, and by my fourteenth birthday, we were the only two in our clan left.

  “Rather than continue wandering for the rest of our days, my mother and I took work as servants in the castle in Eastwold. I believe you've met the Duke and his charming son, Alastor?”

  Varg frowned at the mention of that traitor's name. “We're acquainted.”

  Zita nodded, then continued, “Not long after we took the jobs and moved into the servants' quarters, my mother contracted the disease that killed everyone else in our clan, leaving me as the only survivor of my entire race. I worked peacefully for some time, but one day I caught the eye of someone I myself had my eye on for some time.

  “When Alastor told me he cared about me, I was foolish enough to believe him. When we made love, he could make me feel like a woman ten years older, and I could swear that his kiss could give me the power to fly. He said he wanted to marry me, but his father had arranged a marriage for him with a woman he didn't even know, and he told me that he dreaded being in a loveless marriage and wished he could just run away with me...

  “But all that ended the day we were caught by Alastor's father. Instead of standing up to him and declaring his love for me, Alastor claimed that I seduced him with sorcery so that I could marry him for his title and money. The Duke immediately sent me away, and where he sent me, I learned exactly what kind of horrors mankind is capable of; the Duke sold me to a brothel.”