The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (42 page)

Wicked smiles spawned from their faces. She could taste their hunger for vengeance.
Her
hunger. She closed her eyes once more and joined with the minds of the Fae Wyld. Her rage only grew. The Shadowed had destroyed Paladrix completely. They had also invaded the Forest, Desert, and Underground. And she sensed their presence nearing the Artic Realm as well. It would not be long before the Fae Wyld collapsed. Lilacoris possessed Hilaros’s link with her creation, but she had none of her predecessor’s power. Even without the threat of the Shadowed, it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. Not without its progenitor.

Her thoughts flew fast and frantic.
Prepare, my children. We cannot stay here, but Alfuria remains ripe for our taking.

The Council received the same string of commands that every other Fae had, but there were things that the collective did not need to feel.

“General,” she said. Pliratis bowed and clasped his four hands together in obedience. “The Outsyders will return to Alfuria through our forest in the north. Find them.”

He clacked eagerly, his bloodlust apparent even without her presence in his mind. “Yes. All-Mother. It would. Be my pleasure.”

She turned back to the helm of her ship and changed their bearing. Their retreat had become an advance. She could sense the collective, and it pleased her.

I once feared you, Fae’Ta’Nyl,
she thought.
But now I control the entire collective. We will take your world and your life. Restitution shall be taken from your very soul. Piece by bloody piece.

The Fae moved as a single mind, for that was what they were. A single terrifying mind fueled now by rage.
Her
rage.

Menis sealed the missive with the orcan sigil of scholars and set it aside with a sigh. Sitting back on his heels, the orc chieftain shut his eyes and tried to dismiss all of what he knew. Knowledge was a burden, and one that his mortal mind was still struggling with. He hated nothing more than the restrictions imposed by his physical body. It was far more limited than he had ever dreamed.

He focused on the steady beat of his heart, wondering at the nature of such a thing, until his mind seemed his own once more. He opened his eyes and whistled sharply.

The flap of his tent immediately swung aside and admitted an aged orc. A long beard of gray covered his bare chest and nearly reached his waist. Though stooped, the elder moved with a precise authority that Menis had grown to love.

“Chieftain,” he said with a subtle nod.

Menis nodded in return and gestured to the opposite side of the furred rug he knelt upon. “Please, Grawmir, my old friend, sit.”

It pained Menis to see his friend labor so just to kneel before him, but the old orc made no indication that he felt the same. Settled, he seemed more at ease.

Grawmir’s eyes went to the sealed letter in front of Menis. The chieftain had to smile. “You always know what I wish before I ask it,” he said.

Grawmir looked up at Menis and shook his head. “I am sorry, Chieftain, I did not mean to assume.”

Menis sat between his heels, enjoying the stretch in his legs, and made a show of unbuckling the sash from across his chest. He tossed it aside and spread his arms. “Please, dispel the formalities. How long have we known each other?”

Grawmir sat lower, sliding between his heels as well. “Since your beginning.”

“Just so. Can we not speak as friends?”

“Of course.”

Menis nodded and picked up the letter. “As I’m sure you know, this needs to be sent ahead to Frostelle.”

“Are we to continue our march south?”

“Yes. Hilaros falling changes nothing as far as the Horde is concerned. If Frostelle needs our assistance, then we will give it.”

Grawmir ran fingers through his beard. “Then you are certain? Hilaros is dead?”

Menis winced, but collected his thoughts and nodded. “She was my Other.”

“I am sorry.”

Menis waved the pity away. “She knew the cost. And it was her that began all of this, though I cannot truly begrudge her. Though I am now destined to die just as the others, I have never felt more alive.”

“You don’t know that.”

Menis shrugged. “It matters not. Whatever time I have here shall be spent correcting her mistake. And taking what is ours.”

“And those that killed her?”

Menis smiled. “I shall do to them the same kindness.”

Grawmir grinned, looking like a child wetting his blade on an enemy’s blood for the first time. “Good. I had thought you lost your vision for a moment.”

“No. Losing Hilaros may have swayed me for a moment, but still our directive remains the same.”

“The Horde will be pleased.”

“As they should be. Too long have we held to the northern border. And for what? Surely, the Empire is not nearly as terrible as we are. More numerous, certainly, but they are without our mysticism.” Menis set the letter before Grawmir and conjured a small flame in his left hand. Lightning danced between the fingers of his right.

“They will surely fall.”

Menis dismissed the magic and nodded to the sealed letter. “See that it arrives ahead of us. Frostelle will need to prepare as well if she wants our knowledge.”

“Do you think she suspects your true motivation?”

Menis laughed. “Please. She may claim to have orcan blood in her veins, but she is more human than she’d like to admit. And there is no dimmer race. No, she trusts us to come save her from the Fae, just as I said we would.”

“And if Miseo should respond herself?”

Menis jabbed a finger at Grawmir. “Do not speak of that one, old friend. She does not deserve even a thought from the Horde.”

“My apologies, Chieftain, but you would have me entertain all possible outcomes.”

Menis sighed. “You are right, of course.”

Grawmir picked up the letter and stood, careful not to show the obvious discomfort the action caused. “Is there anything else, friend?”

“No,” Menis said. “Go with the Horde, old friend, and may you find glory in the ultimate knowledge.”

Grawmir returned the blessing and left.

Alone once more, Menis shut his eyes and massaged his temples. Hilaros had begun this and now she was gone, destroyed by the very mortals she sought to live among. He would not make the same mistake. There was no love in his heart, and he would destroy all that opposed his Horde. The world would be his in the end, and then he could do as he saw fit. It was an opportunity he never would have taken on his own, so for that he was grateful to his fallen Other.

“There is no use thinking on that any longer,” he whispered aloud. It helped center his thoughts.

He opened his eyes and pulled a thickly bound tome in front of his knees. He pulled the aged pages apart and leaned forward, quickly losing himself in the script. Let the barbaric humans and foolish Fae beat at each other with blunt objects until bloody and broken both. It would make the rise of the Horde all the easier.

Chapter Forty-Seven

SACHIHIRO OPENED HIS eyes for what felt like the first time. It took even longer to remember where he was or even
who
he was. Seeing Adelaide sitting next to Tannyl was enough to jar him fully awake, however.

He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched. Every muscle groaned, but nothing hurt quite as badly as it had. Tannyl looked up from the arrow he was fletching, but didn’t say anything. Adelaide jumped off the crate, dropped a handful of feathers, and ran at him. He was nearly bowled over by the embrace. She was much larger than she had been, and it seemed he wasn’t the only one who would need to get used to it.

“Oh, you’re alive,” she exclaimed.

Sachihiro smiled and bowed, though it lacked his usual flourish. “Of course. It’ll take more than some oversized lizard to keep ol’ Sachihiro Teller down.”

Adelaide grinned and pushed at his shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re all right. But you should be thanking Tannyl and Jaydan that you’re not dead.”

“Really?” Sachihiro asked, looking up at Tannyl. The elf continued to work on his arrow, seemingly oblivious.

“Yes, really,” Jaydan said from a far corner.

Sachihiro turned to his lifelong friend with a wide smile. The Healer was seated cross-legged, a swatch of assorted herbs and powders scattered all around him. Sachihiro could see puckered pink scars along both hands and forearms, but he seemed right as rain other than that.

“And who saved you? Last I recall, you got cooked by a dragon.”

Jaydan rolled his eyes, but then nodded at Adelaide. “Think we all helped each other.”

Sachihiro nodded and stretched again, surveying the room as he did. “Hey, where are we?”

Without looking up, Tannyl said, “The Druids call it the
Mother’s Womb
.”

“Right…” It was far larger than the room he had fallen asleep in. The walls and ceiling were of hard-packed soil, but the ground was carpeted in thick grass and flowered vines. Hammocks hung from the ceiling, looking every bit as natural as everything else. A spring bubbled near the center, gentle curls of steam rising into the air. It smelled of… life.

“We carried you here,” Jaydan said. “And that was no small task, so you’re welcome.”

“Are you calling me— Hey! New clothes!” Sachihiro tugged at the simple hempen robe and knotted vine that was tied tightly around his middle. “Wait. Did you dress me?”

“Would you feel better if I said it was Tannyl and Adelaide that dressed you?” Jaydan asked with a gleam in his eyes.

Sachihiro looked at Adelaide, who seemed nearly his age now, and blushed. “Well, I trust whoever did it was gentle.”

Adelaide giggled. Sachihiro’s cheeks burned brighter. He turned away and waited for the blood to return to the rest of his body. Finally, he turned back. “So, uh, what now? Are we just hanging around here for a bit?”

Tannyl’s head jerked up. “We’ve waited long enough. Once Alexander wakes, we leave.”

Sachihiro shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Wait. How long was I sleeping?”

Jaydan laughed, tied a bundle of herbs together, and placed it in his satchel. “Been about eight days, I think.”

“Nine,” Tannyl amended.

“Nine days? Shit.”

“Don’t worry,” Adelaide chimed in. “I made sure to give you plenty of water, and I changed your drawers twice a day, just like Jaydan said to.”

Sachihiro looked at Jaydan, horrified, but the Healer quickly looked away, his body trembling with mirth. “You had me in a diaper?”

Even Tannyl smiled at that. “Would you have preferred to piss yourself for nine days?”

Sachihiro glared at the elf. “Yes, I think I would have.”

Tannyl shrugged and turned to Jaydan. “All right, next time we let Sach piss himself.”

Adelaide laughed and pointed at Sachihiro. “He’s the biggest baby I’ve ever seen. And the hairiest.”

Tannyl and Jaydan lost the tenuous control they had on their laughter and fell to their sides. Adelaide grinned like she’d won some contest and curtsied, laughing as well. Sachihiro stared at each of them in turn, but abandoned the momentary anger and threw his hands up in surrender.

“All right. Have a laugh at me. Go ahead. I’m no stranger to the stage.”

It took quite some time for the trio to settle down enough to catch their breaths. Sachihiro had never been truly mad at them. It wasn’t something that he thought himself capable of. But he let them think he was aghast at being the subject of their humor. He knew they needed it. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Tannyl laugh, at least not with such vigor that he cried.

“So you’re coming with us then, Tannyl?” he asked when the last mirthful tremor subsided.

Tannyl looked at Adelaide, then back to Sachihiro, and nodded. “Yeah, think I’ll stick around a bit more.”

“Like hell you will!”

Sachihiro nearly fell over at the shout from behind him. Whirling, he saw Alexander striding toward them, his face a mask of red hatred. He shouldered past Sachihiro and came to an abrupt stop in front of Tannyl and Adelaide. He jabbed a long finger at the elf.

“How dare you sit there after what you did? To us. To her.” Alexander nodded at Adelaide. She looked like she was ready to cry, but not for any joy at Sachihiro’s expense. “I don’t know
what
has been going on in the past few days, but I know that the worst of it is because of you. Addy followed you, Tannyl. You! For some strange reason, she sees us all as family, but you betrayed her. Struck her. Led her into danger. She could have died because of you. We all could have died. How
dare
you sit there and act like you’re one of us? Like you give a damn about Addy or anyone other than yourself? I saw what you did, and I know what you
will
do.”

The room fell silent as all eyes went to the stern elven hunter. He had stared at Alexander through the entire tirade, not flinching one bit. He slowly set aside the arrow he was holding and stood up. His eyes never wavered, but Sachihiro’s eyes slid to the knife at his belt. He had seen Tannyl use it before. Alexander wasn’t likely to know he was even dead until he woke up in the Great Forest as a spirit.