Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) (25 page)

“What of the scepter and my wish?”

“With the death of the final beast, the Helgardian tribe will have used up the energy that binds the wish within the scepter,” the woman answers, her voice suddenly appearing from the other side of the room. “We will be together again with the fall of the final beast. I’m sorry about all of the sacrifice the family has endured, my love.”

“It is not your fault. How were we to know that the nomads had used all but one of the flawless wishes to summon monsters? At least our man got the scepter to us before all of them were used.”

“It is a shame because an extra wish could have helped us wipe the nomads out.”

Wayland coughs and the click of ice falling into an empty glass can be heard. “That is probably for the best. The other tribes might unite against us if they believe we have the power to destroy them. With a battle, the Helgardians appear as the aggressors and our remaining trade agreements remain safe. It’s a shame because Misrae and his people were our top suppliers of dune crystals and scorpion meat.”

“Don’t worry, my love,” the woman says, followed by a groan from Wayland. “We can hire special hunters and miners after you make your wish. It won’t be much longer. Though, I fear Kira and her friends might get in the way.”

“She will understand and her friends have already helped us.”

“You’re right, but they are not part of the Grasdon family.”

“If they get in the way then Asher will take care of them with his new weapon.”

The woman’s voice falls to a whisper, forcing Luke and Sari to put their ears to the warm doors. The gypsy gives up and sneaks back to the half-elf’s other side, dragging him a few feet away from the room. She casts a silence cocoon around them, allowing her to speak without fear of being heard.

“Am I wrong or does it sound like Kira’s dad caused all of this?” Sari asks, keeping her eyes on the double doors. “I’ve no idea who the mystery woman is or what they’re going to wish for, but I don’t like it.”

“Asher’s new weapon has me worried,” Luke admits, rubbing his eyes. He loosens his sabers in their sheaths, hoping he will not have to use them. “Can you use a spell to imitate that woman’s voice? Kira might recognize it. Maybe she’s a business partner or another noble that’s promised him something. It’s a long shot, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. I’m going to hate bringing this up with her.”

“I’ll be there for you,” his friend promises as she touches his arm. Her smile is warm and loving, hiding the twinge of pain in her chest. “We don’t know exactly what’s going on, so Wayland might be a pawn. That could have been Trinity in disguise as a fake oracle. It’s a common ploy that’s similar to my fortuneteller scam, which I swear I haven’t done since I was fourteen . . . sixteen.”

“That seems like the most likely . . . damn it,” Luke mutters, putting his hands up. “That silence spell meant we couldn’t hear anything outside of the shell, right?”

Sari turns around to find ten armored guards with their weapons pointing at the pair. She drops her spell, which pops with a blue shimmer that leaves dust at her feet. One of the men walks around the adventurers, his spear never straying further than a few inches from them. He knocks on the double doors and opens one of them for his employer. Taking a quick glance, Luke sees nobody in the room behind Wayland, whose face is red with anger. The bearded merchant adjusts his silk robe and closes the door behind him, signaling for the guards to take his guests’ weapons.

“How long were they here?” he asks, examining one of Luke’s sabers. “I was in a private meeting with an important partner. This person wants to remain secret and could be our salvation against the nomads.”

“We found them here when on our way to give a report from Asher,” a swordsman with a feather-capped helmet states. “They were whispering in a silence bubble, so it’s safe to assume that they were spying on you. What do you want us to do with them?”

“This is going to be a problem because of my daughter. She will undoubtedly defend the young man,” Wayland explains as he taps the tip of the blade on the wall. Testing the weapon, he hits the stone and checks for nicks in the metal. “Probably best to keep them locked up until the battle is over. My plan is very delicate and I don’t want them getting in the way. Take our guests to the dungeon and put them in the cleanest cell. Send a servant down with fresh food and drink to make them comfortable.”

“I’m not sure we should arrest them, sir,” one of the guards nervously admits. “It could turn your daughter against you. That might be more trouble than these two.”

“Let me put this request another way,” the merchant kindly announces. He slams the blade back into its sheath and bangs it against the door. “Put these two in the dungeon or I will terminate your employment. Any future employers will be told of your refusal to follow orders. I know all of you have families, so don’t make them suffer because of my disobedient, rebellious daughter.”

The guards surround Luke and Sari while their boss hands the sabers over to the man with the feathered helmet. They let Wayland through the tight circle, the merchant approaching the emerald-eyed gypsy. He runs his hands through her hair for over a minute, running his fingers down her body and into her boots. She frowns when he slips them off and hands the enchanted footwear to the head guard. Returning to Sari, he rudely checks down her top and up her sleeves, removing daggers from their hiding places. Wayland drops the weapons on the floor and firmly grabs her by the jaw, forcing her mouth open.

“Nothing in there or her hair,” the merchant says as he release Sari. He turns to the head guard, but keeps a tight hand on the gypsy’s shirt collar. “Have a female guard strip the young woman completely and put her in a simple dress. We don’t know how many more daggers and lock picks she has on her.”

“Too scared to strip me down yourself?” Sari asks, smacking Luke’s hand away from her mouth.

“My wife wouldn’t approve,” Wayland replies as he returns to his room. “I will always be loyal to my Brea and no whorish gypsy will tempt me. Tell the guards what you want to eat and they will have a servant bring it to you. We shall speak again after the battle.”

Luke thinks he sees the flurry of a white skirt dart out of view before the door closes and locks. He is about to mention it to Sari when a guard’s spear presses against his back, forcing him to walk down the hall. Through his sound sight, he catches a glimmer of the woman’s voice, but it distorts into garbled static. The half-elf pushes his senses a little further and a hideous screech erupts in his head. His ears bleed and he collapses, grabbing Sari by the arm and taking her down with him.

*****

Luke wakes to a gentle hand on his forehead and rough cloth against his cheek. Rolling over, he can tell that his head is in someone’s soft lap, but he is too groggy to remember who he was with before he lost consciousness. When his eyes focus, he sees Sari smiling down at him and a pang of guilt kicks him in the stomach. With a groan of pain, he rolls off the couch and looks around the bizarre cell. There are two chairs and a small table, all three of which are covered in scratches and dents. The couch that Sari is on has torn cushions and the solitary bed is nothing more than a raised mattress with white cotton sheets. A wooden partition is set up around a corner, which Luke guesses is supposed to be a private bathroom.

“I’m as confused as you are about this jail,” Sari admits as she tugs at the uncomfortable, brown dress that barely reaches her knees. She skips to the bars and sticks her leg outside, smirking at the whistles of the guards. “I’m hoping to tease and flirt my way into a real dress, which is the opposite of what one normally uses those tools for. This thing is nothing more than a sack with the bottom cut off and sleeves attached. I’m going to have a full body rash if I don’t get some real clothes. Unless I go naked.”

“I’m sure that would do something,” Luke casually says while he climbs to the barred window. All he can see are the feet of patrolling guards and a nearby elephant, so he drops to the floor and sits. “Wayland probably has Timoran and Kira locked in her room by now. They have no idea he’s up to something, so they’re not going to fight back. Do you know where they put our weapons? Maybe we can escape and fight our way out of the manor.”

“Our gear’s in a locker at the end of the hallway,” the gypsy states. She slips her dress to the floor, causing the half-elf to face the wall. “I guess things must be going well between you and Kira. We’ve barely seen each other and now you can’t even look at my body. I shouldn’t be surprised since you’ve been avoiding eye contact for days. Does this mean you’ve chosen Kira over me and the contest is over?”

“It isn’t as simple as that,” Luke claims, placing his head against the warm stone.

“Explain it to me because I’m part of this. Or have you forgotten that I’m a creature with a beating heart?” Sari cuttingly asks while putting her dress back on. Not waiting for an answer, she storms across the cell and smacks the warrior across his shoulders. “You keep acting like this is the end of the world. Just make a decision and live with it. Pick her and I’ll respectfully keep my distance. Someone is going to get hurt, so stop drawing this out and choose who you love the most.”

“Shut up, Sari.”

“No because somebody has to push you to finish this.”

“This isn’t the time.”

“As if there’s a perfect time for something like this.”

“Stop talking.”

“I’m through being quiet.”

“Shut up!”

“Make a damn choice!”

Luke grabs her wrist as he spins around and kisses the girl hard enough to bend her backwards. Her arms curl around his neck while he lifts her off the floor. Turning around, he presses her against the wall and runs his hand through her dark blue hair. With a sudden growl, Luke breaks the kiss and backs away to the couch like a wounded animal.

“So you choose me?” Sari asks, touching her tingling lips.

“I don’t know,” the half-elf replies, shattering her blissful mood. He gathers the courage to get within reach of the gypsy again, barely able to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. “I love you, Sari, but I’m not really over Kira and we still feel that spark at times. I don’t want to choose one of you until I’m sure because there’s no going back once a decision has been made. It’s difficult because you and I will continue traveling together after this, so I can’t put you completely out of my thoughts.”

“Is that really a bad thing?”

Luke puts his forehead against hers, their lips within reach of each other. “It means I can’t focus entirely on what I feel towards Kira. That might still be part of the problem. I’m remaining distant from her because I know I’ll end up alone with you on the road. Things won’t change unless I hurt someone.”

“Then wait for the final hour and do what your heart tells you to do,” Sari whispers as she hugs him. She fights the urge to kiss his neck and tickle his pointy ear. “I’ll behave from now on. Thank you for the kiss and letting me know that you haven’t forgotten about me. I’ll be honest and say that I hope you choose me. That way we can spend the rest of our lives wandering and being happy.”

“I’m not going to be wandering my entire life,” the warrior says, pulling away from the gypsy. Worry and regret creep into his heart when he sees the fear in her emerald eyes. “There’s going to be a day where I want to settle down in one spot, have a family, and do something stationary. My family’s wanderlust doesn’t last forever like that of your people. I’d be fine with going on trips, but it wouldn’t be like it is now.”

“Of course things will change,” Sari states, slipping around Luke and walking to the bars. She hangs her arms outside, waving toward the distant guards to see if they are still sitting at their desk. “Maybe that’s part of the problem, Luke. If you asked me to marry you now, I’d say yes. If you wanted to settle down and have kids, I’d say no. That could change in the coming months or years. Is this what you’ve been thinking about all this time?”

“That and how one or both of us could be killed,” he answers, walking up behind her. He sighs and sits on a battered stool instead of holding her like he wants. “Kira seems to be the only one who knows exactly what she wants. You and I are enjoying what we have, but neither of us are thinking about the future.”

Unable to wrap her mind around what her companion is worried about, Sari takes a seat on the floor next to him. “Is it really that important to you? Can’t we be happy together and handle the future when it appears?”

“I want to, but I can’t be like you as long as I have even a small spark with Kira,” the half-elf explains. He tries to take Sari’s hand, but it is locked in place on her leg. “I know Kira has thought about marriage, kids, and a life after I’m done adventuring. We’ve spent a lot of time talking about it lately. Not with any certainty, but to see where our desires meet. You and I never really discussed anything more than the now.”

“Because I didn’t know I wanted you forever until recently. I spent too much time acting as Kira’s surrogate and denying that I wanted to be the one with you. I guess she isn’t the only one who was away for so long that she hurt her chances.”

A small cough draws their attention to the door where Eileen is pushing a cart of food into the cell. Two guards are waiting outside with their weapons drawn, but they do not appear to be worried about an escape. A delicious aroma fills the room when the calico lifts the cover off the platter of meat and bread, a small pot of steaming stew in the middle of the display. She places the meal on the nearby table along with a pitcher of water and glasses before quietly leaving the cell. The guards lock the door and take the cart away, but Eileen gestures for the prisoners to come closer.