Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) (41 page)

“Why were you exiled?”

“That is a secret I can never share.”

“I’m sorry that I asked.”

“No need to apologize, my friend.”

“Friend . . . I have friends,” Dariana mutters in childish disbelief. “I don’t think I ever had friends before. What do I do?”

The barbarian grins and squeezes her shoulder. “Be yourself.”

The silver-haired woman nods her head and goes back to freeing the skulls, leaping high to get the ones near the ceiling. Her giddiness at having friends makes her light as a feather and she leaps around the room with ease. Timoran hurries to catch whatever she drops, apologizing whenever he has to hurl a skull into the pile instead of gently placing it among its deceased peers. Dariana stops her momentum by catching the chandelier and flipping to the floor next to the barbarian.

“Should I pull a prank on Sari when she gets back from Bor’daruk?” she asks while catching her breath. “I’ve been told that playful revenge is common among friends.”

“Considering what is waiting for her and Luke in the city, I would focus on being a shoulder to cry on,” Timoran suggests, drawing his weapon to continue their work. “Let us concentrate on the masks and worry about our friends when they return. With any luck, things will not be as bad as I suspect they will be.”

*****

Grasdon Manor is quiet and dark as the sun sinks behind the horizon, casting shadows across the hall. Luke and Sari sense something is wrong by the curtain of grief that hangs over every servant and guard that they pass. Eileen looks worse than the others, showing signs that she has had very little sleep in the last few days. The smear of blood on her apron disturbs the adventurers, but neither are brave enough to ask. They remain in silence and keep their thoughts to themselves even when they see the armed guards and a healer sitting outside Kira’s room. The doors are closed, but the robed woman with the barbed oval and star symbol of Neberith on her chest stares ahead as if they are wide open.

“You may all get some rest,” Eileen tells the guards and priestess. They silently nod and move away, but the healer stays within sight in case she is needed. “My mistress took a turn for the worse after you left. The funeral for Asher became a debacle when some guests accused her of murder. We believe they are from rival merchant houses, but nobody has confessed to the plants. The mayor and Wayland’s business partners had to step in to calm everyone, but the damage was done. She’s not been the same since, so I apologize on her behalf if she does anything foolish.”

“What do you mean?” Sari asks while Luke puts his hand on the door.

“Her mood has been sporadic and she has made a few half-hearted attempts at taking her life,” the calico answers, her orange tail hanging limp behind her. She looks down at her apron, the dried blood bringing back vivid memories. “This is from her attempting to use a steak knife on her wrists, but she didn’t get very far. Whenever she tries, she breaks down crying and wailing about what has happened. She has never had to bear such loss and now she is being told to run the family business immediately. She knew such a demand would come, but the partners are pushing her too quickly. My mistress hasn’t even eaten in the last two days. Maybe longer if she was feeding her previous meals to the animals in the courtyard.”

“It’s too much for her,” Luke whispers, sensing Kira moving on the other side of the door. “I don’t know if we should be here, Sari.”

“Send them in!” a voice shouts from the room.

Eileen opens the doors for the adventurers, bowing her head and backing away to the far side of the hallway. The pair enter the room and are immediately struck by a strong odor, which makes them wonder when Kira last bathed. The floor is covered in pottery shards and discarded clothes, some of which have dried blood on them. A zigzagging gash has been cut into her bed and the canopy posts are badly damaged from being struck by the heiress’s kusari-gama. The head of a statue is sitting on a platter as if it is a trophy, the body left shattered on the ground below the balcony. Only the potted plants have been left unharmed by whatever rampage destroyed everything else in the room.

Kira stands in the middle of the mess, her black hair snarled and unkempt. Her yellow gown is covered in stains that range from blood to food. Luke can already see signs of her losing weight and knows Eileen was not exaggerating about her not eating for well over two days. He can see healing bruises around her neck from an attempt to hang herself, the realization sending a shiver down his spine. An old bandage is wrapped around her left wrist and she picks at the edge while staring at her guests.

“Do I get a hug?” Kira asks in a weak, crackling voice. Her legs give out when Luke embraces her and she limply hangs from his neck. “I’m not doing well.”

“You should eat something,” the half-elf whispers, forgetting that his feast ring is still dormant. He curses under his breath when he remembers and helps the young woman to a couch with punctured pillows. “We’ll get Eileen to bring you something mild. You need to keep your strength up. Can you go ask Eileen, Sari?”

“Come back immediately,” Kira demands before the gypsy can step outside. She can feel Luke tense and points at a nearby drawer. “I’ve been saving a potion in case you two came back and I was like this. It will give me enough energy to stay awake and make sure the food stays down.”

“Have you been waiting for me?” Luke asks as he gets the orange potion. He pops the cork and hands it to Kira who takes a few sips of the bitter liquid, her body briefly glowing. “You need to take better care of yourself. I’m scared to continue traveling and leave you like this.”

“But you can’t do that. Until the Baron is defeated, you can’t stay here. Let’s not even pretend that’s an option.”

“I can stay with you until Helgard is fixed and we move on,” the forest tracker promises, stroking the heiress’s hair. He feels her relax a little more when Sari returns and tries her best to gently close the doors. “Nyx needs furniture and other items, so I can take you there when you’re strong enough to travel. Maybe it can help settle your business partners since it will cost a modest fortune to furnish an entire volcano. After that, I’ll spend most of my time with you and some time in Helgard to help with the repairs. Nyx will understand.”

“What about me?” the gypsy mutters under her breath as she approaches.

Kira finishes the potion and gets to her feet, tossing the empty bottle out the open window. She gently pushes Luke back down when he tries to stand and she gestures for Sari to come closer. The two women stand next to each other and face the half-elf who suddenly wishes he was somewhere else. Standing next to the gypsy, Kira looks ragged and worn even with the energizing effects of the potion. It is when he dares to look into her eyes that he sees the spark that he remembers from their time at the academy.

“First, I agree to going with you to Helgard and do business with Nyx,” the heiress announces with renewed strength. “I need to get used to being the one in charge, so this will be the perfect opportunity to ease into my new role. I also agree to Luke staying here and helping me get my house in order. That’s the business part of this conversation, so let’s discuss the real reason you two came here.”

“Everyone else was busy,” the forest tracker claims with a nervous shrug. Both women glare daggers at him, forcing him to turn away. “Fine. I thought we could try to settle this, but seeing you like this makes me want to wait. I don’t want to hurt either of you, which is becoming impossible. Besides, it’s a bad idea to decide now.”

“Stop being a child and choose,” Sari impatiently says. Her head snaps to the side at the sound of Kira’s laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“Do you realize what would happen if Luke decides now?” the heiress asks, relishing the blank expression on the gypsy’s face. She takes Luke by the wrists and pulls him off the couch, giving one hand to her rival. “Ask the big question to both of us and we will answer truthfully, my love. I mean the one that you would have to ask the woman you choose to spend your life with. Don’t forget the knee.”

The half-elf sighs and kneels before the two women who share his heart. “Would you marry me?”

“No,” Sari meekly admits, her grip loosening.

“Yes!” Kira says loud enough to startle a peacock on the balcony. She calms down and wipes a tear from her eye, slipping her other hand from her fiancée’s grasp. “There you have it, little gypsy. I would win if the decision was made today, but Luke really wouldn’t be happy. He still loves you. I wouldn’t want a husband who wonders about what could have been, so I don’t want to force him to make a decision.”

“Maybe I should call it off with both of you until the Baron is gone,” Luke suggests, rubbing the pommels of his sabers. “You know, better all of us get hurt instead of one. That idea probably sounds better in my head.”

As he stands, Kira grabs him by the face and kisses him deeply. Luke’s thoughts drift away at her touch even though he can feel emerald eyes boring into him. The kiss is broken when Sari yanks him away, having her turn at his lips. The passion is similar to what he felt with Kira, but there is something wilder and more primal in the connection. Images of traveling with Sari bubble to the surface of his mind and mix with memories of talking to Kira about their future. Unable to deal with the anguish overtaking his thoughts, Luke breaks the kiss and turns away from both women.

“We all know you or Sari will slip,” Kira declares, grabbing a brush to fix her hair. She growls in mild frustration as the knots either come loose or cause some of the strands to get yanked from her scalp. “I can’t win if you travel with her, but she doesn’t have the same future in mind as you do. I’m willing to go along with us calling everything off until our lives settle down. I have a business to figure out and you two have a destiny to survive. So what do I do if you two slip and continue this relationship while I’m out of the picture losing ground?”

“Your traditions-” Luke starts to say.

“I’m not playing by those rules any more,” the heiress interrupts as Eileen returns with a cart of food. The maid stays by the door, patiently waiting for permission to approach. “Eileen, please take Luke to the catalogues and show him how to make copies. Sari and I are going to discuss some things.”

“Shouldn’t I be here for any decisions?” the half-elf asks, nervous about leaving the two women alone.

“I think you’ve made it clear that you can’t decide,” Sari answers, meeting her rival’s predatory gaze with a casual smile. “We’ll trust you to do what you feel is right while we work our own agendas. I promise I won’t hurt her.”

Eileen brings the food over to her mistress and takes Luke by the hand, gently guiding him out of the room. The click of the closing door is still echoing when Kira drops the brush and gets in Sari’s face. Refusing to back down, the gypsy playfully licks her rival’s nose, shuddering at the sour taste. Her attempt to startle the heiress gets no reaction, which makes her uneasy about the situation.

“I know giving up will only make you mad. Besides, I’d probably try to do something with Luke during a time of weakness,” Sari admits, taking a few steps away. She considers moving her hand within easy reach of one of her daggers, but something in the other woman’s eyes tells her that would be mistake. “We could share him while we’re all here, but that would get messy. There’s really no away around this without one of us getting hurt and it’s looking like you since I travel with him. Then again, it could end up being Luke and I grow apart at some point and he returns to you.”

“I would wait for that,” Kira declares as she walks to her bed. She pulls her kusari-gama out of the destroyed mattress and spins the heavy side while watching the gypsy. “I gave this a lot of thought and accept that I did this to myself. I let him slip towards you. If I had followed his traditions then you’d be nothing more than a cute, harmless companion of his.”

“Well it’s a little late for that,” the blue-haired girl points out, drawing the stiletto that matches Luke’s sabers. She nervously juggles the blade from hand to hand, her palms getting sweaty. “If you gave so much thought to this then I assume you have an idea. What would you like to do about me?”

Kira is faster than Sari expects when she knocks the dagger out of the air. The chain of her weapon wraps around the gypsy’s wrists, but she becomes impossible to move. With her rival frozen in place, Kira keeps her weapon taut and cautiously pulls herself closer. Once she is within reach, she presses the inner edge of the sickle to Sari’s throat.

“I want to kill you. To slit your throat and abandon your body in the middle of the desert for scavengers,” the heiress whispers, her blue-tinted, emerald eyes glinting with hate. “I may have let you into my life, but I still hate you for falling in love with him. Luke is all I have left and I will fight for him. Lucky for you, I know he’d never forgive me if I killed you. So that isn’t an option unless an opportunity presents itself where I can get away with it.”

“I can tell him about this.”

Kira lets her weapon drop and she grips Sari by the chin. “I’m a woman in grief who tried to kill herself several times. This is all insanity talking since I’m terrified of losing the man I love when I need him most. Imagine what you would do if you lost everyone and Luke was leaving you behind to go with me. After all, you still can’t sleep without someone sharing your bed or you’ll have nightmares.”

“I’d survive and I wouldn’t take it out on you,” the gypsy responds, her voice quivering. The grin on the other woman’s face makes her close her eyes. “I wouldn’t want to upset Luke or you, so I’d suffer in silence. There’s always a way to survive even when you’re broken.”