The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (31 page)

“I need you, Tannyl,” she said, grasping at his cheek.

He covered her hand with his and pressed it against his face. He shivered again. He tried to speak, but found he could not. Terror seized him and he tried to push her away, but she held tightly to him and the feeling melted away. He shook his head. Suddenly, everything was covered in a haze, like he was looking at a world wrapped in fog.

You need to run,
he heard part of his mind say. But another part said,
you must save her.
Was
her
Maira, or Fae’Na?
No, Fae’Na is dead
, he thought. And Maira was not a woman but a foul demon of some sort sent to torture him. He resisted her embrace again, but didn’t know why. The cold was refreshing. It felt right.

He looked down and saw a different face staring up at him. Had it been her all along? How had he not seen it? He couldn’t remember it any other way. Tears still ran down her cheeks and soaked into his shirt. He wanted to take all of her hurt and sorrow. He held the side of her face in his hand and brushed away a tear with his thumb. She was beautiful, like nothing he had seen before. And he wanted more than anything in that moment to take her someplace safe.

“Father…” she whispered.

“Fae’Na, my flower…” he whispered back.

And then she was gone, burned away by the dawn light like the shadow she was. He looked at his empty arms for a long time, trying to sort his dizzying emotions and thoughts. He had seen her. Fae’Na. She had come to him, broken and battered. Had he helped her? Could she still be saved?

He whistled loudly. The elk appeared at his side in what seemed like an instant. He mounted and kicked the great beast into a gallop. His senses told him he could make it before the next dawn. His heart told him he had to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Four

 

 

SACHIHIRO COULDN’T OPEN his eyes. The pain was too great. His mouth felt like it was full of stones, but a coughing fit loosened his jaw and brought a measure of clarity.

“Jaydan,” he called out, squinting against the throbbing at his temples. “Sachihiro needs his special potion.”

“Dammit, Sach.”

Sachihiro tried to laugh, but couldn’t force enough air into his lungs. “I’d apologize, but frankly I don’t even remember drinking. Which means I had a bit more than too much. So, sorry, I guess. Now, where’s that tonic? I can barely move.”

“Open your damned eyes, Sach. We’re in a bit of shit, and I don’t think a tonic will cure it.”

He tried again and found the pain faded. But now he felt it in his shoulders. And his wrists. He couldn’t move his arms and he couldn’t feel his legs. Slowly, his vision centered and he saw Jaydan’s sour face staring back at him. He looked strange, both arms extended above his head, pressed against the sides of his face. It looked painful…

Sachihiro’s senses returned at once and pain erupted all over his body, like he’d been thrown into a pyre. He tried to move, but only swayed slightly. Something was holding him in place…

“Dammit, Sach, stop squirming. It won’t help.”

He did. Not because of what Jaydan said, but because he saw how Jaydan was. Rough rope was tied so tightly around the man’s wrists that his hands were purple. He followed the rope upward until it disappeared into green foliage. He frowned and looked below his friend.

“Oh shit,” he said, seeing both their feet dangling in the open air.

He twisted and managed to slowly spin to his left. Twenty feet away was a wall of bark. It stretched in every direction as far as he could see.
Vylarra.
Someone else swung lazily from a third rope a few feet farther to his left.

“Alexander,” he cried out.

The lanky farmer’s torso was wrapped in a crude bandage, likely white at some point, but soaked through with blood. Alexander’s head hung to one side. Sachihiro wasn’t close enough to know if the man was breathing.

“Is he…”

“Don’t know,” Jaydan said. “But he’s in a bad spot either way. We all are.”

Sachihiro twisted back around to face Jaydan. “What happened? Where are we?”

Jaydan looked up at the ropes. “Seems we’re hanging from a tree,” he said, not bothering to mask the sarcasm, or in too much pain to do so.

“But how…”

“Don’t know. Woke up here, just before you did.”

Sachihiro tried to smile, but couldn’t tell if he had. His face was numb. “I guess that Fae wine was stronger than I thought.”

Jaydan rolled his eyes. “This is not a time for jokes, Sach. But there must have been something in the wine or the food. I should have noticed it last night…”

“Wait, so Opis…”

“Guess he wasn’t so trustworthy. Alexander and Adelaide were wrong.”

Panic seized Sachihiro’s heart and gave it a single forceful squeeze. He kicked his legs, trying to spin in a full revolution.

“She’s not here,” Jaydan said.

Sachihiro stopped fighting the air. “But where? What? How?”

“I. Don’t. Know,” Jaydan said forcefully.

“All right, all right. So what do we do? Can you get free?”

Jaydan shook his head and winced. “Well, maybe, but I don’t think the result would be much better. It’s a long way down.”

“Well… shit.”

Jaydan gestured with his head past Sachihiro. He couldn’t move his head much, but he managed to spin about again by flailing his legs. A doorway opened up in the side of the giant tree, above where he and Jaydan swung. Two elves looked down at them.

“Well, two of them are awake now,” one said.

The other shrugged. “Good enough.” His eyes flicked to Alexander. “That one may not be waking up again, anyway. All right, get ‘em in.”

Sachihiro slowly spun out of eyesight of the pair and tried to fight his way back so he could properly address his captors. He had a few things that needed to be said. They spun back into view in time for Sachihiro to see an arrow loosed from the doorway. It sprouted from his thigh a moment later behind a wash of hot pain. The rope tied to the end of the arrow snapped taut and Sachihiro began moving toward the elves. Pain radiated up from his leg, making it hard to see straight.

The elves pulled him roughly into Vylarra and held him down. The pain of being shot with an arrow was immense, but the pain that exploded when the elves tore it back out was mind-numbing. His hands were still bound, and he couldn’t seem to manage to bring his legs under him to stand. Somewhere in the distance, he heard Jaydan shout a string of curses.

Jaydan was lying beside him a moment later. The Healer’s eyes were hard and much more focused than Sachihiro felt. The elves turned back to the doorway, presumably to retrieve Alexander.

“Give me your hands,” Jaydan whispered.

Sachihiro knew better than to argue, and rolled and twisted until he thought his hands were near Jaydan. He felt a brief pulse of heat and felt the pressure on his wrist dissipate. Sachihiro flexed his hands and worked the blood back into his limbs as he set to untying Jaydan’s hands.

Sachihiro looked over Jaydan’s shoulder. They were pulling Alexander in. “Plan?” he whispered to Jaydan.

“Wait for ‘em to get Alexander in here.”

“And then?”

The two elves tossed Alexander just inside the door. He hit the ground with a heavy
thud
. The elves laughed.

“Bastards!” Jaydan shouted, rolling to face the elves, hands extended and already crackling with energy.

Sachihiro jumped to his feet just as a bolt of blue magic struck the first elf and sent him flying out the open door, leaving behind a trail of acrid smoke. Sachihiro charged for the second, hoping to prey upon the shock of Jaydan’s attack. His leg didn’t obey, however, and he stumbled, steadied himself momentarily, and then fell. He landed on top of Alexander and rolled aside.

He heard the elf say something, but it wasn’t a word he understood. Another flash of magic and the elf’s right arm vanished in a mist of red. He howled in pain and shock, falling to his knees. Sachihiro looked at Alexander, saw his grievous wounds, and felt a primal energy surge within him. He lunged across Alexander’s body and collided with the elf. They hit the floor and slid toward the opening. He fended off the elf’s weak, one-armed attack and thrust his fist into his face. The wet smacking sound pleased Sachihiro more than any piece of music could. On the third punch, the elf went limp. He threw another for good measure and pushed the elf through the portal with his feet, smiling as he disappeared from view.

“Sweet shit, Sach,” Jaydan said, crawling toward him. “Was that necessary?”

He shot the man a look. “Yes, it was.”

Jaydan held up a hand. It was shaking. And smoking. “All right, well, let’s get Alexander upright and get out of here.”

Sachihiro spit out the door in a final act of vehemence and turned his attention to the still form of Alexander. Jaydan was already poking and prodding. He lifted the bandage around his abdomen and grimaced.

“Shit,” he said. “That’s bad.”

“He alive?”

Jaydan nodded. “Barely. I can try and mend the wounds, but the puncture in his gut looks tainted, maybe even poisoned. I’ll need proper herbs to treat it.”

“Well, do your thing and let’s go.” Sachihiro had already torn his shirt off and was wrapping strips of it around his leg. The pain was excruciating, but he was certain he could move on it if he needed to.

He looked back at Jaydan. “What are you doing? Wave your hands, channel that shit and heal ‘im. I have to think there are more than just those two.” He nodded at the open doorway.

“I don’t have my supplies,” Jaydan said slowly. “Just this.” He held up the carved bone die and looked at Sachihiro.

“Well, roll it,” he said. “What are you waiting for?”

Jaydan just shook his head. “I can’t leave this to chance.”

“What other choice do we have? Can we just take him as is?”

Jaydan looked at Alexander and shook his head. “He’s still bleeding, and I don’t know how much he’s lost already, but his breathing is weak.”

Somewhere in the distance, Sachihiro could hear voices. Shouting. Heavy footfalls. He turned back to Jaydan. “The time to move is now, Jaydan. Roll that thing or I’m dragging him along and crossing my fingers.”

Jaydan looked back at the die. “Shut it, I’m thinking,” he said. Sachihiro knew it wasn’t directed at him and he stood, tested his leg, and prepared to lift Alexander.

The sound grew louder. It sounded like marching. Ordered chaos, coming for them. He bent and grabbed Alexander’s arms.

“Aw, shit,” Jaydan said suddenly and placed the die back into a pocket. “Alexander, this is going to hurt like a son of a bitch, so please forgive me.”

Jaydan tore off the bandages and tossed them aside, letting loose the foul stench of tainted flesh. For a moment, Sachihiro was back in Woodhaerst on the night it had died. The flash of flame lighting up from the end of Jaydan’s hands brought him back to present. The smell of decay vanished and was replaced by the pungent scent of burned flesh. Sachihiro stumbled back and nearly fell into open air, just catching himself on the door-frame.

Alexander lunged upright with a yell and Jaydan fell back from him, looking ashen and weak. “Addy!” Alexander shouted, whirling about. He tried to stand, winced, and doubled over, falling back to the floor.

Sachihiro was at his side in an instant. “Up ya go, big guy,” he said. “We’re in a bit of a bind and need to get moving.”

Jaydan ducked under Alexander’s other arm and helped lift the tall man. They stood in place for a moment, each trying to support the others, but knowing they were each equally crippled.

“She… She went after…” Alexander said, trying to talk through the pain. “Tannyl. She went after Tannyl.”

“Tannyl?” Sachihiro asked, surprised. “Willingly? You think she’s going to… kill him?”

Alexander shook his head and grimaced, but didn’t seem able to speak further. Movement at the far end of the uneven hallway put a stop to any further conversation. Sachihiro could see a lot of bodies and the glint of metal. That was more than enough to banish the throb in his leg.

They turned as a unit and began to hobble in the opposite direction. They made a few crude steps before more figures appeared. They were closer than those at their backs. Sachihiro quickly counted eight elves. They carried spears, but it was what followed the elves that unnerved him.

“Shit,” Jaydan said, seeing the same thing. “Wolves.”

The great dark-furred beasts prowled behind their masters and took up the full width of the hallway. A single one of the large creatures easily outweighed even Sachihiro. And there were four of them.

Without speaking, the trio limped backwards, eyes darting between the closing groups of elves and wolves. They stopped just short of the open door. Sachihiro’s eyes jumped from the empty expanse to the wolves and then back again.

“Well, this isn’t good,” he said, and knew Jaydan was rolling his eyes without even looking.

“Addy,” Alexander said weakly.

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