The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (18 page)

How long he was carried, he couldn’t be sure, but at last he was dropped to the floor. The stone was cool and the air fresh. He coughed violently and forced his eyes open. It felt as if he were still burning. He couldn’t see well enough to tell if it were true.

“You all right?”

He stared at Sachihiro until he saw only one of him and not three.

“Addy,” he said, his voice rough.

“I’m fine,” said a small voice at his side.

“Thanks to you,” Jaydan said from the doorway.

Alexander looked around. They had made it back to Sachihiro’s room. It was farthest from Adelaide’s, and Jaydan leaned against the barred door. The Healer was eyeing the balcony, and Alexander could see sparks of energy twitch between his fingertips.

He turned back to Adelaide. The girl was covered in soot, but seemed otherwise unharmed. He tried to lean closer to her, but pain raced up his back, wrapped around his arms, and rooted him in place.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She looked down and frowned. “My dress is ruined,” she said.

Alexander laughed. It told him enough. She was fine.

“Can you stand?” Sachihiro asked.

Alexander looked at him and grimaced. Long, black cuts crisscrossed the musician’s bare chest, but he stood tall. He held out a hand, which Alexander gladly accepted. He wavered a bit, but managed to stay upright.

“Jaydan, can you do something for ‘im?” Sachihiro asked.

The Healer came over and looked Alexander over. His face spoke volumes. Alexander didn’t dare ask or look at his own body. He just focused on breathing, staying conscious, and being thankful that Adelaide was uninjured. The very thought of her coming to harm utterly terrified the young man. He knew he wasn’t capable of feeling any other way. Not that he cared to try.

“We’ll need to get to my room. All my supplies are there.”

“All right, then let’s go,” Sachihiro said. “Alex needs some serious patching.”

Jaydan glanced away, but Alexander was too dazed to interpret the move. When he turned back, he said, “Yeah, all right, but my room doesn’t have a door, so we’ll have to get what we need and return here.”

Adelaide giggled.

Chapter Twenty

THEY WENT AS a group, first to Jaydan’s room to get his satchel, and then to Alexander’s to grab his glaive. The final stop was to retreat back to Sachihiro’s room and bar the door. The black storm continued to rage outside the castle, each crash of thunder causing Adelaide to jump. They kept asking her if she was all right, if she’d been burned. She couldn’t understand why they were so concerned. Fire couldn’t hurt her, and with the shadowy creatures dead, she had little to fear. Jumping at the thunder was just a reflex. Only children were scared of storms.

What did concern her, however, was Alexander. The lanky teen that looked so much like a lost brother of hers sat in the corner farthest from the open balcony. The skin on his neck, shoulders, and arms was blistered and broken, oozing blood and other fluids she could not identify. His eyes were squeezed shut, and it was clear he was having trouble breathing. Jaydan knelt in front of him, rifling through his supplies.

“Is he going to be all right?” she asked quietly as Sachihiro sat on the bed next to her. Erlen sat in the crook of his neck, silent with fear. A squirrel crouched on his other shoulder, and somehow, she didn’t find its presence odd.

The musician, still shirtless, patted her knee. “Oh, he’ll be just fine. Jaydan’ll do his magic healing whatsit and you’ll never know what happened.”

“But I know what happened. He saved me.”

Sachihiro nodded and rubbed at the shallow wounds that crisscrossed his chest. They weren’t bleeding, but the edges were black, and Adelaide could smell something funny leeching through the scent of smoke and rain.

“Can he really make him better with magic?” Adelaide asked doubtfully. She had seen magic before; most of the other children could manifest at least a simple illusionary trick, but to heal someone…

“Sure can,” Sachihiro said forcefully and then added, “well, most of the time.”

Jaydan looked over his shoulder and shouted, “That was once, Sach, and it didn’t kill you.”

“Well, you better get this right,” Sachihiro retorted, though his tone didn’t sound angry. Adelaide didn’t think the man
could
be angry. “That bed didn’t catch itself on fire.”

“Dammit, Sach,” Jaydan shouted, turning back to his patient. “At least I was trying to do something useful.”

“Hey, I got one. Or were you too scared to notice?”

Jaydan grumbled under his breath.

“What were those things?” Adelaide asked when it seemed the argument had ended. A shiver went up her spine as her mind recalled the creatures that had come in with the storm.

Sachihiro shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Do you think there are more?”

“Dunno.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

Sachihiro scoffed at that. “A hero is never scared.”

Jaydan grunted loudly, but said nothing.

Adelaide slid off the bed. “Well, I’m not scared, either,” she said as she went to Alexander and knelt at his side.

“There’s nothing wrong with being scared,” Jaydan whispered to her as she nestled into the corner formed by the wall and Alexander’s arm.

“I know,” she said, more for his benefit than her own. “So, you can help him, yeah?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, returning a mix of vials, salves, and herbs to his satchel.

The Healer slid the bag away and laid his hands gently on Alexander’s. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. Adelaide sat transfixed, willing it to work and mesmerized at the prospect of seeing such power. The room fell silent, even the storm giving pause. Only a pair of candles flickered from the nearby desk. Her eyes were fixed on Jaydan’s kneeling form, hoping to catch some sight of energy passing between the two men. Some hint of what was occurring.

Jaydan said something under his breath and opened his eyes. Adelaide looked at Alexander. He looked no different, still drifting in and out of consciousness, breath still ragged, skin still torn and bloody. Still dying.

“Dammit,” Jaydan yelled suddenly, looking at the empty side of the room. “This isn’t the time for games.”

Adelaide looked up at Sachihiro. He didn’t meet her gaze, seemingly unconcerned with the strange outburst. His fingers played over his lute, testing the strings and making adjustments.

“What’s wrong?”

Jaydan didn’t respond or even look at her. Instead, he reached into a vest pocket, withdrew a fist, and turned away from her. She could see him hunch over, close to the floor. Something small clattered onto the floor and Jaydan cursed again.

A figure appeared behind Jaydan. It was hardly more than a shadow, largely transparent. A smiling face turned to Adelaide and winked. Then it smiled, its mouth wider than she thought possible. Long fingers curled over Jaydan’s shoulders, but he didn’t seem to notice. Adelaide thought to say something, but the ethereal figure brought a single finger to its mouth. Then it winked again and vanished.

Adelaide puzzled over the spirit for a moment, but instead turned back to Alexander. She didn’t see the magic like she thought she would. In fact, her eyes did not detect any change. But some other sense buried deep inside her did. A rush of energy was ripped from Jaydan and poured into Alexander. It happened in a blink, but Adelaide knew it had been. Jaydan collapsed to the floor with a garbled curse, followed by deep moaning.

“Addy, are you all right?”

Her eyes flashed to the redheaded man at her side. His eyes kept blinking, like he had just awoken from a long sleep.

A whole mess of words lodged in her throat, so instead of trying to speak, she threw herself at him, embracing him tightly, and burrowed into his chest.

“You’re not hurt?” he asked again, wrapping his arms around her in return.

She shook her head against his chest. “Don’t ever do that again,” she said.

Alexander made a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough. “I said I’d protect you, didn’t I?”

She pulled back at that and glared at him. Hot tears ran down her cheeks. “If you get hurt…” She wiped angrily at the tears, twisting her face into a frown to mask the previous emotion. “Don’t leave me. Ever. Don’t you dare.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said as he leaned forward and climbed to his knees. His hands explored his body, searching for damage. Even in the dim light, Adelaide could see the remnants of the burns that had seared his flesh, but they were little more than uneven scars across his arms and neck. His clothes were torn and dried blood was caked to just about every bit of him, but Adelaide could tell that Jaydan’s magic had worked.

“You did it, Jaydan,” she said gleefully, knowing that Alexander was truly well.

She turned to see Sachihiro helping Jaydan off the floor. A flash of lightning revealed puckered burns across the Healer’s arms and deep cuts along his spine. His vest hung in tatters. A moment before, he had been unharmed. Then she understood.

“You took his wounds!” she exclaimed, leaping to her feet and rushing to his side.

“Told you I’d fix ‘im,” he said through a grimace.

She helped Sachihiro guide him to the bed. He sat down heavily and Sachihiro brought him his satchel. With trembling hands, he began to bring out the same treatments he had given Alexander.

“You know,” Sachihiro said. “You didn’t have to prove me right.”

Jaydan extended a hand toward Sachihiro with only his middle finger exposed. “Believe it or not, I didn’t
mean
to do this.”

Adelaide stood in front of him. “Why did you do that?”

“Didn’t have a choice. Just a chance.”

Alexander appeared at Adelaide’s side. He leaned forward and placed a hand on Jaydan’s shoulder, then quickly withdrew it at the expression of pain that lit up Jaydan’s face. “Whatever you did, thank you.”

Jaydan shrugged. “It was her, not you. Seems she’s fond of you, and you do good watching over her, so—”

Adelaide stomped her bare foot on the floor. “I’m fond of you too, Jaydan. Don’t be so daft. We’re a family, and—” She cut off her own words, and sudden shame lit a fire across her cheeks and filled her stomach with stone. They couldn’t possibly look at her as family. She had only known them a day, and it was her fault they were in this mess. Somehow she knew the creatures had come because of her, though she couldn’t explain the reason. How could she think they were family?

“Aye, we’re a family, all right,” Sachihiro said with a strum of his lute. “A nice, normal, family.”

Adelaide knew sarcasm when she heard it, but she also sensed the underlying emotion in his words. It sent shivers of hope throughout her body. Very little in her short life had made sense up to this point, but a few simple words from the burly young man set her at ease. Whatever happened, whatever she was, she knew in that moment that it would turn out for the best. As long as they stayed together. Like a family.

She was about to put her thoughts into words, when the door rattled with a heavy impact. All eyes went to the portal, and Adelaide held her breath. She could hear her heart beating against her ribs. The door shook again. Thunder echoed and inhuman screeches sounded in the hallway. Something heavy struck the door again, following by the sound of searching claws.

She could sense them, the creatures outside the door. They stunk of death and violence. Their primal anger drifted along currents in the air and filled Adelaide with dread. She wasn’t afraid for herself—she was of no importance—but the others… Her eyes went to each in turn. Alexander had his glaive readied, poised to strike at the first threat. Sachihiro had stowed his lute in favor of his short sword, and Jaydan toyed with currents of magic in his hand, though the pain on his face was clear, and he remained hunched over on the bed.

Fools,
she thought.
If I don’t do something, they’re going to die. For me. My family.

Chapter Twenty-One

THE CITY WAS in chaos. Tendrils of black fog rose from every crevice and slowly coated the ground in mystery. Tannyl normally found comfort in the shadows, but this was something else. Something darker, wicked and of death. But they kept him hidden all the same, and no one paid the Hunter any mind as he raced through the streets, darting through alleys, and scaling walls as if they were no more than an afterthought.

The wall that surrounded the castle was more ornamental than it was defensive, only a scant twenty feet high and rife with handholds. He ascended and dropped into the courtyard before any of the guards took notice. He crouched for a moment, surveying his surroundings. Screams echoed through the artificial night, but the black fog was thicker here, and Tannyl couldn’t see more than a few arm lengths in any direction. Something shrieked from the wall’s top and something else landed near him with a wet
thud
.