So, as he exited the gallery with the tome tucked under his arm, she quietly followed—and the temptation to snag the book and run was indeed present. Yet she had the distinct feeling he'd tucked it under his arm as a test. Would she make the attempt when he didn't have a good grip with either hand, or would she allow him to reach their destination without trouble?
Because of this, she didn't try. Jada had no wish to earn Dalris' full trust, but she wanted enough of it to make working with him at least marginally easier to handle.
So she continued following him down the hall, admiring his home on the way. Outside, she'd said his estate was smaller than expected, and that was true. When she'd first visited the Dra'Kai Estate fifteen years prior to make certain the tome was still on display in his gallery, she had found it to be smaller than anticipated—but only because she'd imagined something comparable to the Palace of Onoria, or Litora Cathedral.
Otherwise, the manor was damned impressive, and the grounds were gorgeous.
Jada was even more surprised to learn that Dalris kept a human staff he took good care of, and wondered if she'd ever be able to offer her sister such comfortable accommodations. Maybe, if I can ever finish Papa's research.
Not that she expected to have such a grand home in Onoria. Instead, the crown was more likely to send trackers and assassins after her—again—than it was to offer any accolades on her findings when all was said and done. So whenever she did reach a point where settling down in one place was an option, she'd likely have to seek refuge in Terra.
Thankfully, the mortal world wasn't a horrible place, though Jada often found the native humans disagreeable. Elves weren't saints, and certainly squabbled amongst themselves, but Terran humans held disdain for one another over petty matters that were out of their control, such as skin color, or even gender—particularly in regards to females.
During one visit, Jada was waiting on a sidewalk for Karina to finish delivering a magic amulet to the resident of a nearby apartment building, and watched a group of young human males sitting on a stoop across the street. They'd joked amongst themselves about random things, seeming harmless at first—until a beautiful woman walked by.
That's when the males began whistling, even howling, and attempted to call her over.
Yet she'd continued on, showing no interest in joining them—and their talk didn't stop with her departure. Instead, they called her a bitch for ignoring them, then proceeded to go into detail about all the ways they wanted to fuck that whore.
It'd taken every ounce of willpower Jada possessed to stay where she was instead of causing a scene—but that didn't stop her from alerting a passing police officer of the unruly men disrupting the peace.
So Terra wasn't perfect, but Jada would rather deal with having disagreeable humans as neighbors than worry about her very life day in and day out.
Still, there was much to accomplish before she'd have the luxury of deciding where to live. So she refocused her thoughts on the present, particularly when Dalris unexpectedly stopped outside of a study in order to cast a curious look through the partly-open door.
Apparently, someone inside was having a chat, and as Jada craned her head, she clearly heard a woman mentioning, “At least we won't have to go back to Perosia soon.”
A man scoffed. “We will if those masked fuckwits don't stop messing with my sister.”
As he spoke, Dalris reached out to open the door wider, asking, “Isaac?”
A Perosian demon of shorter-than-average height came into view, possessing dark, wavy hair, a muscular build, and fiery eyes. At his side was a human mage—an archmage if the ornate staff clutched in her left hand was any indication—wearing a glittering, purple gown with silver embellishments and her red hair up-swept beneath a jeweled headdress, giving her a decidedly regal look.
But her grin was friendly when she glanced at the door and exclaimed, “Dalris!”
Her warm greeting put a smile on the draconian's face. “Hello, Edith, it's good to see you again. Also, congratulations on acquiring your staff.”
“Thanks! She's a beauty, right?” the archmage returned happily, then canted her head to look behind Dalris at Jada, adding on an impressed tone, “Oh, that's a nice cloak. Who made it?”
“Uh,” Jada drew out, unwilling to divulge information on her sister, who was the mage apprentice that had crafted her current cloak. So she settled on stating, “It was a gift.”
“Damn, must've cost someone a pretty penny,” Edith remarked.
Coming from an archmage, that was high praise, and Jada couldn't wait to tell Karina all about it when she returned to Ithelyon. But for now, she put her focus on Dalris, who changed the subject to ask, “What are you two doing here?”
The demon had a particularly pleased grin on his face when he answered, “We have some stuff to give you.”
Smirking, Edith expounded, “Because you saved me from becoming a ghoul last year, I had to find a good way to say thanks, so … !”
Lifting her right arm, a bright, golden light formed in midair beneath her palm, and she reached into it—though her hand didn't emerge on the other side. Instead, it looked as if the archmage was reaching into a pocket of air, searching for something the way someone would rummage through a purse.
Biting her tongue, she soon muttered, “No, that's my lipstick … that's Isaac's watch … oh! Here it is!”
From the light, Edith produced a folded piece of paper and handed it over, stating, “This is the title to a vampire nightclub in New York City. But before you ask why I'd give you the title, just read the name.”
Dalris unfolded the paper and looked it over, then glanced up in surprise. “Nightlife?”
“That's the club!” Edith grinned.
For some reason, Dalris seemed deviously pleased by this, but also confused, asking, “Did you steal the title and replace the owner's name with mine?”
“Not precisely,” Edith started.
“She charmed the owner into thinking he was willing to gift the club to you in secret,” Isaac qualified with a proud smirk. “So he's the only one who knows you're the actual owner now.”
She charmed him? Jada arched a curious brow. If Edith could charm people, she had to be an enchantress—a field of magic closely related to the one Karina studied—and Dalris looked highly amused at Isaac's explanation of how they'd acquired the nightclub for him.
Reaching back into the light, Edith went on, “We have something else, but it's not exactly from us.”
After a moment of searching, she extracted a glossy bar of pale blue metal that Jada couldn't identify until Edith explained, “I visited Dra'Kai a few days ago to enchant his platinum and turn it blue, and I told him about the way you saved me from life as a ghoul. So he told me to give you this because, in his words, I'm his favorite little mage, and you deserve a token of his appreciation.”
As Dalris took the platinum bar, she added, “By the way, a token means you have a whole crate of this stuff coming. It'll be delivered in a few days.”
Jada looked up to spy a questionable expression on Dalris' face. She had no doubts that any draconian would be elated to hear their patron dragon had given them such high praise, but if she didn't know any better, she'd almost say he looked sad.
Perhaps his station in Terra had kept him from visiting Dra'Kai recently, but whatever the case, he didn't comment and only went to store the platinum and the title of the club in a safe near the desk.
“Thank you, Edith,” he started, his mien thoughtful when he next inquired, “How did Dra'Kai take to his blue platinum?”
Edith grinned. “He rolled in it.”
Dalris momentarily stared in disbelief, but then laughed—and Jada went blank. She'd never seen the draconian smile so genuinely, and it only made him even more handsome. Didn't think that was possible.
It was just a good thing her cloak hid her expression because she knew she was staring—at least until Isaac broke through her stupor with his next comment.
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Curiously, the demon looked in Jada's direction and back again, suggesting, “So, I'm guessing shady lady here is Ana if you've got that tome out.”
Jada stared at Isaac uncertainly, and even Edith sounded confused, asking, “Who's Ana?”
The demon promised to explain later as Dalris returned his attention to Jada, all traces of his previous smile vanishing with his answer. “Actually, her name's Jada, but yes, this would be the same woman.”
Isaac seemed surprised. “And you're not strangling the life out of her?”
Jada pursed her lips, but Dalris responded before she could say a word, “We're negotiating.”
The draconian proceeded to qualify her reason for wanting Morwin's tome, though he left off any mention of the possibility that she was his mate, or even an elf, and summarized, “So we're at an impasse, and now that I think about it, we could use your assistance if you have some spare time.”
The couple exchanged a look, then shrugged as if they had plenty of time.
“What's up?” Edith inquired.
Nodding, Dalris moved to the door and requested, “Come with us.”
Without qualm, Edith and Isaac followed, and Dalris took them to a wall outside of the study that appeared to lead nowhere. Yet, at his touch, a rectangular seal appeared, allowing him to slide a hidden door aside and reveal a staircase that led below the manor.
Apparently, Dalris had a secret dungeon under his estate.
Jada had no idea why he was taking her to such a place, but it certainly didn't inspire confidence. Three cells stood on the right wall, and on the left was a display holding several weapons. The only light available came from a hanging lamp at the center of the room, and Edith and Isaac must've been there before because the demon remarked, “This brings back memories.”
“Same here,” Edith qualified, “and they're not the best memories.”
Isaac slipped an arm around her back as if offering comfort, but Jada took little notice. Instead, she was too busy watching as Dalris opened a cabinet stocked with bindings, silver blades, and other torture devices, and reached inside.
But the only thing he extracted was a set of keys hanging from a hook, which he turned and handed to Isaac.
Following the movement, the draconian entered one of the three prison cells and held the tome up, asking Jada, “Do you still want to inspect this?”
“Not if you're going to lock me in that prison.”
“I'm not,” he reassured, adding, “I'm simply limiting your options for running away with it, and Isaac is going to lock us both inside, not just you.”
Jada pursed her lips in hesitant consideration. Though Dalris had a good reason to limit her options for stealing the tome, she wasn't certain she wanted to be locked in a cell with him where there was only so much space for movement.
But at least he was staying in the prison as a show of faith that he wouldn't attempt to lock her away, and besides, if push came to shove, she possessed a means of escape that Dalris didn't know about.
So, with a deep breath, Jada entered the cell, and almost immediately, the sound of the lock clicked shut as Isaac closed the door behind her, leaving her with a single thought.
Here's hoping this isn't all for nothing.
CHAPTER 7
Dalris wasn't entirely certain whether locking himself in a cell with Jada was the best idea considering the draw he felt to her was growing with each passing moment.
Was his desire to have an answer over her identity too intense to ignore? Or was he starting to see through the magic of her cloak more clearly? He wasn't certain, but good idea or not, locking them both inside was the only option they had that seemed feasible.
So, with Isaac holding the key to their freedom, Dalris handed the tome over to allow her to inspect it—then backed away to keep himself from doing something impulsive.
But the elf didn't seem to notice, opening the magically sealed tome to thumb through the book as he watched—and quickly took notice of an oddity that he mentioned aloud.
“Some of the pages are blank.”
“No,” Jada started, explaining, “Papa commissioned a mage to make magic ink that would encrypt certain information. He sent a letter to me explaining that he and I would be the only ones who could open the tome, and also read some of the pages, because he didn't want anyone unscrupulous taking advantage of his hard work.”
That made plenty of sense, and Dalris remained silent to allow her inspection to continue uninterrupted. Not only did he want her to be certain the information was intact, he was also curious to know what she'd find.
Eventually, Jada located a map near the center of the book—one Dalris could actually see. The image was meticulously sketched in ink, and if Morwin was the artist, the care for his work showed.
Yet he couldn't see any points marked on the map, but Jada must've because she turned the tome until north pointed up, and let a soft gasp.
“Of course! The entrance is hidden in the swamps!”
Dalris didn't need to see her face to know she was smiling because it sounded in her voice—and he nearly smiled as well.
But his attention was distracted when she shut the book and looked up, announcing, “Okay, the tome's in good shape, so a deal's a deal.”
And here's the moment of truth. Dalris waited, half expecting the elf to make an escape attempt as she had thirty years prior. Of course, she couldn't escape the cell using magic, or even physical strength—it was enchanted to be indestructible—so her options were severally limited.
But she didn't know that, and he hadn't enlightened her because he wanted to know if she could truly be trusted.
So he waited quietly, and found himself pleasantly surprised.
Instead of trying to escape, Jada handed the tome back, then gave him the information he'd requested from the start.
“You asked what I was after, and I want the same thing my grandfather sought. Papa wasn't trying to prove Onoria right so he could quell the draconian's argument that elves are too duplicitous to be trusted. He only wanted to uncover the truth, and his research suggests something happened that neither side of the argument fully explains.”
With that said, she waved a hand and summarized, “Rinora's House didn't slaughter her out of malice, nor did they go insane because of the dragon blood they were imbued with. Instead, it seems there was an outside force at work.”
Dalris briefly glanced down at the tome in his hand, and thought her comments over, wondering what Morwin found that could possibly suggest such a thing. Of course, it was hard to fathom without hearing more, so he decided to go with the assumption that both elves and draconians were wrong, and asked, “Did he ever postulate what force that might've been?”
Initially, Jada was silent, probably because she hadn't expected him to actually entertain the idea that her grandfather's research was correct. But she was quick to recover from her surprise, and soon answered, “He did. Have you ever heard of the Battle for Divinity?”
Surprised by her mention of such an ancient, and seemingly unrelated story, Dalris confirmed, “I have. It was a fight for control of Divinity conducted by The Guardian, who was then defeated by the God of Darkness.”
According to some legends, The Guardian was a divine being that controlled the gateway to Divinity—not quite a deity itself, but still powerful. Over time, however, it'd grown jealous of the power the gods wielded, and attempted to overthrow heaven and take that power for itself.
The result was a battle that decimated an entire continent of Ithelyon, and The Guardian was only stopped when the God of Darkness sent his army to defeat it.
“God of Darkness? Do you mean Peros?”
The question came from Edith, reminding Dalris of their company—he was so intent on the conversation at hand that he'd forgotten their visitors were still standing outside of the cell.
But he didn't interrupt when Isaac offered a confirmation if only because the demon was Perosian, and the Battle for Divinity
tied in with their origins.
“Yeah, that battle is what got Peros kicked out of Divinity.”
“Why?” Edith inquired. “Dalris just said he won and saved their asses.”
“Yeah, but the pantheon thought that if Peros could defeat a force that might overthrow Divinity, he could take over, too. So they kicked him out of the club, and sent his people with him.”
“So much for fucking gratitude,” Edith muttered. Then she asked Jada, “So what did this Guardian do to Rinora's House?”
“Papa never made a solid connection,” Jada explained. “But he did uncover evidence that Rinora's House fought in some horrible battle for a time.”
Dalris quirked a brow at the last. He'd never heard any tales concerning their House going to war, and asked, “What evidence?”
“That's something I'd have to take you to Ithelyon to see,” Jada remarked. “But trust me, I've gone over it several times, and confirmed everything Papa theorized.”
Dalris looked down in thought, trying to piece this all together—and so far, it seemed he was completely wrong about Jada's motives. He'd suggested she only wanted to prove the elves were right, or just find Rinora's golden temple—a feat several draconians had attempted, but none had accomplished.
In fact, the most common stories told concerning Rinora and her lost House were all about treasure hunters who'd tried to locate her golden temple only to disappear, or be killed during their journey.
Dalris couldn't say he'd never considered sending a group to find it, either. Not only was it a part of draconian history, but most of his kind would gladly risk their lives for the chance to gain abundant wealth, and he was just as avaricious as the next.
But the one thing that always stopped him was the risk of losing family and friends being much too high for the cost, even if they were successful.
After all, wealth wasn't only defined by monetary possessions, a fact even the most greedy draconian would easily admit to being true. So risking one's own life for wealth was completely different from risking those they cared about, and Dalris never got that expedition off the ground.
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