The Queen's Opal: A Stone Bearers Novel (Book One)

by Jacque Stevens

  All this for talking to rats? The humans were insane.

  The man shook his head, pityingly. “You might cover your ears, but you’ll never blend in. They’ll know what you are the moment you open your mouth. Then they will behave like Cain. Ropes and chains wherever you go. I cut Cain off and would never dream of handing you to the robes, but leave me, and you’ll stumble into their arms in under a minute.”

  Drynn spun, his heart racing. “Kol said most people wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “It’s nice to have friends that will lie to save your feelings. Kol lied a lot, didn’t he?”

  Kol lied all the time and seemed proud of it.

  The man continued in Drynn’s silence, smiling. “Terrible habit he’s picked up. Must’ve thought you wouldn’t understand the truth. I think you’re smarter than that. Smart enough to realize that we may be the best chance you have.”

  “I . . .” His words died. The man stood mere steps away.

  “I could return you home. Unless there is somewhere else you would rather go?”

  Drynn shook his head, feeling just as trapped as he had in the cart. “I-if I let you help me, what will I have to do in return? I don’t like the games you play.”

  “No more games. I swear.” The man held out his hand.

  Drynn stared.

  Bell stepped behind the man, nodding. “Take it, Drynn. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

  The human’s hand was empty. What was he supposed to take?

  The man laughed. “Drynn, when humans make an agreement, they shake hands. It shows they trust one another.”

  Drynn’s face grew hot. Of course. Now that the man had mentioned it, Drynn remembered seeing the gesture several times since coming to the human lands. He should have guessed its meaning. But he hadn’t, and it only reinforced the man’s words. He couldn’t survive out here. Tayvin and Cindle were gone, and he didn’t have a lot of options.

  He offered his hand.

  The man gripped his arm and yanked Drynn close. Pain ripped across his neck. The air left his lungs, and his vision faded out.

  Drynn knew he was being carried. He knew when he reentered the building and was set on the wooden floor of the dark kitchen. But he couldn’t break out of the fog in his brain and fight against it. His head pounded, his thoughts scattered. “Did you have to hit ’im like that?” Bell’s voice was soft and distant, but Drynn latched on to it as a tether for his returning consciousness.

  “Wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t,” the man said. “Not without Kol. You said it won’t even look at you and barely speaks.”

  “Yes, but he came to me. I think we could train it, eventually. Even without Kol. And we would have another magical weapon to counter all theirs.”

  The man paused. “Maybe, but we’re going to have to do something in the meantime. There might be advantages to keeping it alive, but not if it’s going to run to the robes.”

  Metal scraped together, liquid pouring in the distance. “You’re going to drug it?” Bell asked.

  “You said drugs were the only thing that worked for any real length of time.”

  Drynn slowly lifted his head from the floor, but still couldn’t find the humans, blocked by a cabinet. Their footsteps echoed closer.

  “Yes,” Bell said, “but I don’t know what Kol used, or if it was Cain all along. Kol just said he thought it had something to do with the way it heals itself. Are you sure . . . ?”

  “Would you rather I kill it? You know I don’t like the risk, so what’s it going to be?” The man stepped by her without hindrance and stopped near Drynn, bending over. “It’s already starting to move.”

  Drynn pushed himself back, each movement like swimming through sink mud.

  The man held the flask toward Drynn’s face. “Drink it. It will dull the pain.” He said it as if he had nothing to do with causing the pain in the first place.

  Drynn pressed against the wall. Out. He had to get out.

  Bell shook her head. “I couldn’t even get him to eat unlaced food.”

  The man pushed Drynn’s hat aside and yanked him up by his hair. His mouth opened in a silent cry as the man forced the flask between Drynn’s teeth. Bitter liquid filled his throat, choking him until he swallowed. The man released him after he drank half of it.

  Drynn backed away, coughing. His eyes watered, and his stomach churned.

  Bell’s hands slid over his back, as if to comfort him. “It’s all right, Drynn. It will only make you tired. You just need to stay here. We’ll keep you safe from the robes, and once they’re gone, The Lord will take you back to the forest. Just like he said.”

  This man was The Lord? “Picc said The Lord wanted to kill me.” Strange that Picc would be the most honest person in the bunch.

  Her gaze shot nervously to the man before she answered. “He shouldn’t have said that. It’s just, The Lord didn’t know what to make of you then, but he had to protect Kol. Cain threatened to sell Kol to the Tower, same as you. I had to report it, just like The Lord asked me to if there was trouble. Kol hates robes. If he thought we sent him to the Tower, he would hate us too, ruin all the years The Lord invested in him.”

  “But you did send him.” They just said they had—as if it were something to celebrate.

  “No,” the man said, straightening. “You did. He protected you from Sorren, and you left him there to rot. He protected you from me as well. I can’t take kindly to that. He is mine. He is to do what I say without question. I could’ve punished him physically, again, but I grow tired of that game. He’s older now; I can be more sophisticated. Originally, I thought it would’ve been a good lesson if Sorren had killed you—after I said you could live—but your obvious betrayal works just as well. And if you have magic the robes want, I can make that work as well.”

  Hit by another wave of nausea, Drynn shuddered.

  Bell pulled him into her lap. “I know you’re scared, but it’ll be all right. The robes really are the problem here. The Lord wants to fight ’em, but it’s impossible with all the magic they have. That’s why Kol needs to go to the Tower and learn to control his magic.”

  Drynn didn’t want to be anywhere near this woman. He moved his arm, stumbling forward, but she pulled him back tighter. “You hate me now, don’t you? But you don’t understand. Did Kol ever tell you what the robes did to his mother? After he started using magic and she wouldn’t tell them where she hid him? What they do to everyone? We’re thieves, but we use the money to resist them. We just need help. We need magic, and you have it. Both Kol and the robe said you do.”

  “No. I. Don’t.”

  The Lord sighed. “He’s a kid. He’s going to lie, and you can’t expect him to understand any of this. But his leaders might. I might be willing to escort him back myself and see if the other fairies are a bit more open to negotiation.”

  He wasn’t an animal or a child. “They won’t even talk to you. We don’t fight wars and we don’t have magic. And I know how these things work. Kol must have told you who my father is.”

  The Lord nodded and fingered the dark whiskers on his chin. “Your father is a leader of some sort.”

  “We use the term ‘King.’ Kol recognized it.”

  “He never mentioned that. He liked you better than you give him credit for.”

  Drynn had already expected that one at least. The Lord had only spoken against Kol’s intentions to hide his own dark motives. There was a pattern to the humans’ behavior. Drynn could figure it out, but always one step after the insight would have been useful.

  “He would’ve had me let you go without even revealing how truly valuable you are,” the man continued. “And I intend to let him think I did. And I will, too. Eventually. Just as long as your father does what I ask him to.”

  Drynn couldn’t find the human words to answer, lost in a building haze. All he saw was a blur of leering faces. The Lord, Bell, Picc, Cain . . .

  The thieves were everywhere in this realm, and he would never escap
e.

  The Lord walked away. “Bell, make sure he drinks the rest of that.”

  CHAPTER 21

  TAYVIN SHOULD HAVE never asked why a human might want to throw up. Nami had a whole book on the subject, mostly centered on how plants that never bothered the elves at home could be toxic to humans and needed to be expelled if eaten. There were even drawings.

  Humans bleeding, retching, leaking from every unspeakable orifice—it was a wonder any of them were in one piece. Putting back together a broken human seemed a nearly impossible task.

  Why had he ever—?

  “You’re Tayvin? The healer’s boy?”

  Tayvin looked down from his book. As he often felt trapped inside the house, he had moved to reading on the roof with the healer’s children playing in the garden below him. But now another human woman was standing near Mira. She had grease smeared around her eyes like a raccoon and paint on her claw-like nails. Was that supposed to be attractive? It seemed as silly as Mira trying on a dress that wasn’t hers. But the woman was a distraction—from the books and the girl Nami had gone to check on.

  A welcome distraction.

  He dropped from the roof, landing on his feet, and she smiled like he had already answered her question about his origin. Her eyes ran from his boots to the cap covering his ears. “I’ve heard the rumors . . . seems you’re far more talented than most apprentices. More talented than your master, even.”

  Tayvin shook his head. Nami was extremely smart. He could barely get through one of her books—with pictures—and she had stacks more. Granted, some of his difficulty came from deciphering the language, but even as that improved, all he seemed to do was follow her around. So much so, that the healer had sighed and pushed him out on his own yesterday “to see what he would do” with a new patient who sounded like she had the same cough everyone else on her street had.

  Nami had just gone to check on the girl herself this morning, and Tayvin had been waiting for her to come home and pronounce some vital mistake.

  Hence the need for a distraction and the preference for one without any leaking orifices.

  The woman glanced over her shoulder toward the street. “Perhaps you could help me with something?”

  Tayvin cocked his head, but there was nothing for it. He would have to talk to her. “Are you sick?” He hoped she wouldn’t mind his accent too much. The men weren’t so bad, but all the human maids seemed to giggle whenever he spoke, and he was half-waiting for Mira to chime in and take over in her usual fashion—which also made the human maids giggle.

  He caught more of the human words now, and it seemed they thought something was sweet about an armed man who allowed a young girl to speak for him. He was so “sweet” that there had been several young women here lately, and Nami was becoming rather upset with them.

  Nami probably wouldn’t like this woman, either. Along with the grease on her eyes, she was playing with a slit in her skirt. His first instinct was to look away from the woman’s figure out of respect, but perhaps she was attempting to show him some concealed wound? As the healer’s apprentice, he had seen a lot more skin than he was used to, but she was a lady. She shouldn’t have to expose herself on the street.

  He bobbed his head. “Did you want to come inside, Miss . . . ?”

  “I had somewhere more private in mind,” she said without supplying her name. There was something aggressive in the way she took his hand. Elven maidens often fluttered their eyelashes at home, but this woman wasn’t like a forest maid at all—she was far more brash and bold. With Nami gone, Tayvin had to look to Mira to explain this new mystery of human etiquette.

  She shook her head, looking up from a doll the previous girl, Gini, had made her with two flowers. “Mama doesn’t like you girls hanging around. She says you’re two-bit harlots and the last thing Tayvin needs right now. He’s supposed to study and play games with us.”

  “Well, aren’t you adorable?” The woman’s pained smile implied the opposite.

  “She also says no one greases themselves up to see a woman healer, and if I ever try to catch a man like that, she’ll tan my hide.”

  “Delightful. But he’s a big boy. I’m sure he can make his mind up himself.” She guided his seized hand toward her waist. “You want to come with me, don’t you, Tayvin?”

  Tayvin had no idea, now certain the conversation was beyond him. “Um . . . could you let go of my arm?” If she had been male, he would have pulled out his sword and insisted on it.

  “Tayvin? Mira?”

  Tayvin turned at Nami’s voice, and Mira sprang from the ground. “Mama! Another girl’s here.” As Nami entered the garden, Mira went to her side and spoke in a breathy way—a whisper that wasn’t a whisper at all. “I liked Gini better. This one’s too old and grabby and doesn’t smile with her eyes.”

  “I agree, and Tayvin’s engaged.” Nami shifted the sack on her shoulder and raised her chin as if looking at some gift the stray cat had dropped at her feet. “Go home, or I’ll call the neighbors.”

  Tayvin instantly had his hand back, but the woman’s smile fell into a sneer, like it always belonged there. “You think they will help? They would turn their back if they knew the truth, just as they did before.”

  Did before? Tayvin turned back to Nami.

  “Of course they would help. Everyone loves Tayvin.” A lock of her brown hair fell from its knot, and her hands were on her waist near her apron strings. The two women stared each other down for a moment before the greased one turned away.

  “Well, we’ll have to see how long that lasts.” The woman retreated. The grass bent over as she stomped through the garden, and Mira stuck her tongue out as she passed.

  Tayvin shook his head, turning to Nami. “You don’t think she was really sick?”

  “Oh, she’s ‘sick’ all right. Some of the people in this town . . .” She shook her head. “It’s like Sorren doesn’t care to police them. Too busy with the prince’s war in the north, I suppose.”

  Tayvin didn’t know anything about the human prince, but the thought triggered another question. “How did you know that I’m betrothed?” It wasn’t something Tayvin talked about often.

  Nami blinked. “You are?”

  “Well, only sort of.” He was a decade or two younger than most elves when they married, so it was far from official. “Father thinks it would be most appropriate for me to marry the granddaughter of Pelanaytra’s queen, but I haven’t met her yet.”

  It still made his encounters with the opposite sex awkward in the last few years. He tried to be polite, to not play favorites, but inevitably someone would read too much into something he said, and then they all wouldn’t speak to him for weeks. Better to avoid them.

  “Tayvin’s engaged to a princess?” Mira asked with wide eyes.

  Tayvin started to nod when Nami glared at him. “Of course he isn’t. Tayvin’s teasing you.” She scanned the yard. The twins were throwing dirt at the other end of the garden, and she nudged Mira toward them. “Grab the boys and see if you can get them to wash up. I need to talk to Tayvin.”

  Mira ran off after some more prodding, and Tayvin followed the healer into the house with a shrug.

  “You’re engaged to a princess?” Nami hissed at him like it was some awful secret when she had been the one to bring it up in the first place.

  “Not really.” There weren’t any princesses in Elba. “Her grandmother is a queen, but only our family’s titles are based on heredity. Father is the High King, and I—”

  “Don’t you dare say it. You can’t be a prince.”

  Tayvin closed his mouth and didn’t say it, but it wasn’t like he could deny it either. He didn’t mind telling Nami about elves, since she was more likely to find the cause of the illness than he, but she never seemed to believe what he told her.

  “Tayvin, I only said you were engaged to get that girl to leave—and any of the others that have started hanging around here. You start saying things like that, and it’s going to get w
orse.”

  “What is going to get worse?” More girls?

  “I’ve seen that woman before,” Nami said. “She was standing in the alley when I walked past earlier, and she had a man with her. If she really needed help, she would have come to me then. The younger girls are harmless enough, but she’s probably the first of a very big problem.” She collapsed on the couch. “You should have heard Tia’s family talking.”

  “Did something happen to her?” His heart sped, waiting for a well-deserved lecture on some missing herb or procedure. He was too impulsive and mouse-brained to be trusted near any more patients, and he should stick to swinging his sword around.

  “Yes. You cured her; that’s what happened.”

  “I—She is all right?”

  “Not just all right. I know what she had. She should have been in bed for days, even with treatment. But she is running around like it never happened. First Lita’s baby, now—every time I take you anywhere things like this happen, and people are getting curious.”

  “And this is a problem?” It was so hard to tell when humans were joking.

  “Yes! Tayvin, you’re my apprentice. I know you struggle—with the language, with the books, with well, everything. You follow my instructions the best you can; you don’t have the understanding to do anything else. I don’t say that to criticize. We’re only a few months in, so that is all perfectly natural considering how far behind you started. It took me a few years studying healing with the guild, and I already knew what a bandage was!”

  Tayvin still thought tying up bleeding patients looked like some savage form of torture, but then, humans bled so much more than elves ever did.

  Nami continued. “But still, whenever you do . . . whatever it is you do, it just works, and people are going to notice.”