The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (33 page)

Adelaide shook her head and clutched the weapon. Tears streamed freely and her hands shook violently, causing the sword to dance in the dirt.

“Come to us.”

The dark shapes formed a ring around the small girl, reaching and grasping, beckoning. Adelaide squeezed her eyes shut, pulled the blade free, and collapsed into a ball on the ground. She curled into herself as tightly as she could, the sword pinched between her knees, pommel tight to her chest. The weapon seemed so inadequate now, and the book she had stolen seemed a complete mistake.

“Come to us, child. Dance with us.”

“No,” she screamed. “Go away!”

The shadowy things continued to call for her and she curled tighter and tighter into herself, retreating the only way she knew how. Miss Hastings said that shadows could do no harm and that to have light, one must also have dark. She also often asserted that the dark was nothing to fear.

As Adelaide huddled against the soft soil, sobbing against a stolen sword, she came to a startling realization that terrified her most of all.

Miss Hastings was a liar.

 

Tannyl crouched at the edge of the clearing. Night had fallen, and he wore the shadows like a cloak. He stayed there, senses extended as far as they could reach. It was a trap, he knew, but one that he intended on being prepared for.

A twig snapped somewhere to the right. Instinctively, he spun to his left and caught the Druid by the throat with one hand. He knocked aside the poisoned thorn dagger with his other. He pressed the elf to a tree and clamped a hand over his mouth.

“That’s
my
trick,” he whispered into the elf’s ear.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” said a voice from behind.

The blood rushed to his head, nearly blinding him. He let the elf fall and turned. The forest was thick with golden eyes and short, pointed ears. The woman at the lead appeared far older than Tannyl thought possible. Wrinkles cracked her once beautiful and youthful face. He had to suppress a laugh. Something good had come from his betrayal after all.

Despite the flesh that hung from her like worn leather, she stood as straight and as tall as ever. She was proud and determined. Tannyl had never seen her any other way.

His eyes flashed to the small army waiting in the trees. They covered him on all sides. He spat and extended his arms at his sides. “Not exactly fair, is it?”

The woman snorted. “What do you know of fair,
Betrayer
?”

Tannyl felt his lip curl. “You know, I never much cared for that moniker.”

“And yet you earned it with the blood of my people.”

Tannyl’s eyes narrowed and his muscles tensed. “
Our
people,” he spat. “And was it not blood that would have been spilled tenfold if not for my sacrifice?”

The elven woman laughed, throwing her head back. When she looked back at Tannyl, her eyes were hard. “The only thing that surprises me, Tannyl, is that you’d return here. You must know what awaits you.”

He glanced over his shoulder, at the pillar of wood stacked in the center of the clearing. He turned back, trying to match her glare. “Fae’Na is dead,” he said. “I want only to give her soul proper rest. Then you may do with me what you will.”

“You still call her by that name, so you know that will never happen.”

It was Tannyl’s turn to laugh, though it was without mirth. “It serves as a reminder of what you made her. And of my own failure.”

“So you have a conscience after all. I’m surprised.”

Tannyl shook his head. “No, my failure was not putting you down when I had the chance.”

She spat. “So you came to complete your final contract as well?” She stepped forward, daring him to act.

“No,” he said firmly. “That is a life that died as well that night. I want only to return Fae’Na to the Garden. She deserves that much.”

He turned and began slowly walking away. “Like I said, you may do with me as you will, but I am going to the Garden to bury
our
daughter. Even you can allow that much.”

He never made it out of the trees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Seven

 

 

SACHIHIRO DIDN’T REMEMBER having fallen asleep, but shouting woke him. It didn’t take long for the memories to return. Having your mouth sewn shut was a difficult thing to forget. He rolled into a sitting position and looked for his friends. It was pitch black in the small prison hole.
Still night,
he thought. Was that good they were being called out sooner? Or did it simply mean their deaths had come early?

A square of light exploded from the opposite wall as the door swung inward with a
bang
. The suddenness blinded him, but stirred his anger like a stick to a beehive. He found his feet and lunged at the first figure that entered. His shoulder and head hit something solid. The gasp of breath told him it was an elven ribcage. He hit the ground and rolled aside, bringing his feet under him for another attack.

Something struck his temple and his twilit vision faded to midnight, but he kept his feet and swung a fist. It struck something solid. It felt like a chin.

“Dammit, Sach,” he heard Jaydan say from nearby.

He tried to call to him. The stitching prevented anything but a primal grunt. That too was muffled as the weight of his captors descended on him like a wave. He fought, flailing every limb and using his head as a bludgeon. He was certain he crushed a nose and heard an arm break beneath his kick, but any true resistance was quashed in an instant.

They jerked him upright and bound his hands tightly behind his back. Sachihiro snorted, trying to take in enough air to stay conscious, but his nose was full of blood. He blew it out at the first elf he saw as they forced him into the light. It earned him another spear butt to the temple and he fell, but smiled as best he could through his stitches when they tugged him upright again.

“Stop fighting, Sachihiro,” Alexander said from behind him. “You’re just making it worse.”

Grow a pair and fight for yourself,
he wanted to say, grunting the words. None of it made any sense, and what these elves were doing was wrong. Regardless of what he and his companions were accused of, it was wrong. And if they were as set on killing them as it seemed, then Sachihiro was going to return the favor to as many as he could.

Blood and sweat ran into his eyes, making it nearly impossible to see anything but blurred shapes. He tried to memorize the path they were marched along, making notes of each turn, but it wasn’t long before he lost track. He cursed himself. Tannyl would have been able to chart the course and discern exactly where they were in Vylarra and exactly how to escape. The elf had many skills that made Sachihiro nervous, but he couldn’t think of anyone more suited to the current situation than Tannyl.

A guard severed the rope tying his wrists and forced him to the ground. He sensed Alexander and Jaydan falling to either side of him. He tried to stand, but was kicked in the back of the knees and wrestled down again. He grunted and wiped the blood from his eyes.

“This will be done quickly,” said a familiar voice. “I will ask and you will answer.”

Even with his vision clear again, it took a moment to recognize Lilacoris standing atop a crowded dais a dozen feet away. The rest of the creatures were varied and Sachihiro couldn’t identify any of them save the insect-like creature standing at Lilacoris’s side.

“If you lie,” she continued, “you will be severely punished. When we are done here you will be killed in a manner suited to the answers you provide.”

“I should have known,” Jaydan said loudly.

Lilacoris stepped lightly, stopping a few feet away. “And what is it that you would know, small man?”

Sachihiro could sense Jaydan quiver with rage, but he remained calm. It was a skill Sachihiro had to admire. It would have saved him many broken bones in the past. Where he was hot, Jaydan was cold.

“I should have known you and Tannyl would betray us.”

Lilacoris’s eyes flared with obvious vitriol. “Fae’Ta’Nyl’Na’Ling is the Betrayer, not I. I trust nothing that elf says or does, but neither am I fool enough to cross him.”

Sachihiro was taken aback. Lilacoris
feared
Tannyl? And what was up with the fancy name? He snorted, spraying phlegm and blood onto the smooth wooden floor in an attempt to laugh. The whole thing was preposterous.

Lilacoris eyed him. “I had thought stitching your mouth shut would have silenced you. Perhaps you require further encouragement?”

Sachihiro closed one nostril and blew as hard as he could in Lilacoris’s direction. A large wad of bloody phlegm struck the bottom of her dress. Jaydan cursed, and Alexander elbowed him in the ribs. Lilacoris only stared.

“A finger, then,” she said, nodding.

Before Sachihiro could react, rough hands forced him onto his stomach. Another set wrenched his arm away from his body. Pain exploded at the base of his small finger. He growled and thrashed. The weight on his back vanished and he rolled to his side, clutching his bleeding hand. His severed finger lay on the ground beside him, and Sachihiro couldn’t force himself to look anywhere else.

 

Alexander wanted to vomit. He wanted to run. But he also wanted to kill. Sachihiro cradled his injured hand and curled upon himself. He was silent. Alexander had to look away. Lilacoris was smiling.

“What did we do to you?” he found himself saying, courage boiling up at the image of Sachihiro so brutally maimed. “Tannyl left us, too. We have nothing to do with him.”

“As he would,” she said. “But I care not to even speak of that demon. No, you are here to answer to the invasion that is threatening my Realm.”

Alexander didn’t understand. He looked at Jaydan. He was as stone-faced as ever, but his eyes kept darting to Sachihiro. Alexander turned back to Lilacoris.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“Do not play the fool, Alexander. Shadows are rising in my Realm, just as they did in Paladrix. Both attacks coincide with your group’s arrival. I wish to know why.”

“It has nothing to do with us,” Alexander said, though he couldn’t truly believe it himself. “We came to speak with your All-Mother to secure passage to the Empire and to obtain information on what happened in Woodhaerst.” He nodded to Jaydan.

“Look,” Jaydan said. “Whatever is happening to the Fae Wyld first happened in my village. Strange shadowy creatures killed everyone. My
parents
were killed.” He pointed at Sachihiro. “And his uncle. We want answers just as badly as you do. So take this thing out of my chest and let’s talk.”

“You think to give me orders in my own Realm? I rule the Forest. And I am responsible for every life. There are no lengths to which I would not go to ensure the Realm’s safety. If your home was razed by the very same creatures invading mine, then there is no doubt as to your involvement. Whether directly or not, you are the cause.”

Jaydan’s expression changed and he lunged for Lilacoris. The High Watcher nimbly stepped aside and Jaydan sprawled across the floor. He cursed and tried to stand again, but an elven guard pressed a heel into his back, much as they had done to Sachihiro.

“Did you not learn the cost of disrespect?” Lilacoris sneered and nodded at Sachihiro.

The burly man climbed to his knees and wielded his eyes as the only weapon he had. Lilacoris turned stiffly from him and knelt at Jaydan’s side. He grimaced and fought to rise, but was held firm.

“Wait,” Alexander said, standing. The pain in his gut flared and staggered him, but he maintained his footing, if just. “We’re not lying or trying to hide anything, Lilacoris. We don’t want to see what happened to Paladrix happen here either. Whatever you want to know… You don’t even have to ask. Just stop with the violence. Please.”

Lilacoris regarded him for a moment, then stood and walked to Alexander. “Speak.”

He swallowed, trying to restore moisture to his mouth. Even that was excruciating. “We don’t know what the creatures are, but we… I think I know what they want.”

Lilacoris motioned to the elf restraining Jaydan. He stepped back and Jaydan sat up with a groan. Blood ran from around the seed in his chest. Alexander felt himself growing lightheaded, either from standing too long or from what he was about to say.
She’s not here,
he told himself.
All that matters is getting out of here alive. I have to protect her.

“Adelaide,” he said slowly.

Lilacoris’s head tilted. “The girl?”

Alexander nodded. “I believe the creatures or shadows or whatever they are want… her.”

Lilacoris stepped back and slowly spun in a tight circle, surveying the room. When she returned to face him, a different emotion masked the half wooden face. “And what are you to her?”

Alexander grunted and forced himself to stand taller. “I…
We’re
her protectors.”

“How noble,” Lilacoris said with a wry smile. “Hilar… The All-Mother will deal with the child.” Alexander felt his knees buckle. “And it shall fall to me to deal with you. For as you said,
protector,
you are joined to her. You shall all share a fate.”

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