The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (6 page)

Tannyl stared back at the creature. He had seen a sprite before, but this one was far more animated than he recalled the diminutive race of Fae creature being.

Erlen spun, twirled, and brandished his sword at an invisible enemy. “You know, I tame dragons! Oh yes, of all shapes, sizes, and even colors! They don’t call me Erlen Dragontamer for nothing!”

The corner of Tannyl’s mouth began to curl into a smile, but he forced it back to its usual place and abruptly turned and began walking away. It was a distraction he couldn’t afford. Distraction is what got Fae’Na killed.
No,
he thought,
butchered.

“Hey! Big elf, where are you going? I was just going to start the tale of the one-eyed dragon of Maul.” Erlen flitted beside Tannyl, hovering just in front of his shoulder, firmly in his periphery. “I tamed it, of course. For I am Erlen Dragontamer! Did you know that I tame dragons?”

Tannyl swatted at the Fae, but it nimbly avoided the strike and moved to Tannyl’s other side.

“There I was, all alone in the Cave of Maul,” he continued. “It was dark and damp and ever so scary. But not for ol’ Erlen. For I am Erlen Dragontamer! And I tame dragons!”

Tannyl stopped his march and glared at the sprite. Erlen was twirling in the air, sword out, no doubt miming his fantastical story. Tannyl’s hand shot out like an arrow from his bow and pinned a delicate wing between his thumb and forefinger. Erlen halted his charade.

“Hey! Unhand me, you great lout! I am Erlen Dragontamer! And I tame—”

Tannyl cut him off with a quick twitch of his wrist. Not enough to hurt the sprite, but Tannyl needed his attention. He found his jaw was clenched and it took some effort to loosen it. He worked the anger from his body and let the breeze carry it away.

Slowly, he said, “Listen, Erlen. Dragontamer. I do not have time for this. A lot has come down on me just this past night and I cannot be held accountable for what I may do to you if you continue to follow me.”

He released the creature and crossed his arms. Though seldom seen outside their area of the Forest, sprites were not altogether unusual, and Tannyl knew Erlen posed no risk to him, even if he were to desire it. But the true trouble with sprites, and the quality that most irked Tannyl, was their constant need to be…
cheerful.
And Erlen seemed the most joyous of the bunch.

Erlen twirled the tip of his sword and jammed it back into his scabbard. He pointed at Tannyl. “A problem? Well, why didn’t you say so? I am Erlen Dragontamer, and while I most certainly, always, and with cruel efficiency, tame dragons, I am also a wonderful, fantastical, and very capable problem solver! Quick, with haste, and right away, escort me to this problem so that I might—no, so that I
will
tame it!”

Tannyl rolled his eyes. Somehow, this felt worse than having lost all of Woodhaerst.

Chapter Six

JAYDAN EYED THE lanky boy.
Boy
wasn’t quite the right word, but neither was
man.
Alexander couldn’t have been more than eighteen seasons, but he sat tall as he polished his glaive. His red hair was trussed back in a tight tail that hung between his shoulder blades. The similarity between this Alexander and the strange girl was uncanny. Jaydan had no reason to distrust him beyond habit, but having appeared at the same moment that Adelaide did was unnerving. And how Adelaide arrived was even more so.

He shook his head, realizing he had been staring at him for some time, and turned back to his own thoughts. He could hear Adelaide splashing about in the nearby stream, washing. Sachihiro had gone back after the wolf, saying something about a “great idea for Addy.” Jaydan shook his head to no one but himself. He had grown up with Sachihiro Teller, and he had never once had a great idea.

As he shifted positions, the polished box, stowed in a tight pocket, pressed painfully into his ribs. Jaydan withdrew the item and held it up in the first rays of dawn. He would have gotten to it sooner had Adelaide not distracted him. But as he looked over the box, a wash of emotions poured over him. Regret and longing were chief among them, with dread a close companion. He had pried the item from his father’s lifeless hand, amid the blood, beside his mother’s fallen corpse. Or what was left of her. Looking back, it seemed clear that his father’s last action had been to retrieve the box from a hidden floorboard. The plank was still displaced when Jaydan had gotten there.

And then
she
had come…

“You all right?” Alexander called.

Jaydan centered his vision and looked at the freckled face. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Kind, emerald eyes looked back. “You shouted something.”

I did?
he thought. Aloud, he said, “Just a bit of a cough. Night was a bit cold and I didn’t sleep much.”
Or at all.

Alexander smiled politely and returned to honing his blade. The soft giggle of a young girl drifted from the hidden stream. The Healer forced himself to smile as well.

His fingers were wrapped around the box tight as a snake around a mouse, but the need to see inside outweighed the fear, and Jaydan managed to free the clasp and lift the hinged lid. The inside was lined with padded velvet, crimson and soft. There were only two items within: a folded square of parchment and a small, six-sided cube.

Jaydan examined the cube first and saw at once that it was a playing die. Hash marks of ascending value were carved into the ivory cube: one, two, three, four, and then five. The sixth side held the etching of a skull and no tally marks. He brought the die nearly to the tip of his nose, running his fingers along the surface. It was most certainly some type of bone, and the carvings, while simple, were precisely done. His father had never shown the die to him before, and he had never known either of his parents to gamble.

With more questions than answers, he replaced the die and carefully unfolded the parchment. It was fine starched linen, very expensive and hard to procure, he knew. His father’s sprawling script filled the single page, each letter finely drawn.

My Dearest Son,

I have written this letter every day since your birth. And every night I have burned it. I've wanted so badly to give it to you, but could never find the words or the courage. But, alas, you are reading this now, which means I am either a better man than I thought, or more likely, that I have died a coward. In either case, please forgive me.

You must first understand that your mother and I love you and have done so since you were first born in our hearts and minds. We prayed in vain to the Forest Mother for years, wanting a child, but were unable to conceive. It crushed our souls like nothing else, to remain barren when our love and desire was so pure. 

He came to your mother first, promising a child. We thought it a delusion at first, driven by grief, but later he appeared to us both, in the dead of night. His name is Rhadiourgia and he is a strange creature, never appearing in quite the same manner. He offered not only a child, but prophesied that you would become skilled with both magic and the healing arts. Every night he came to us with the same promise and every night we refused, fearing what it would mean to sell our souls to this thing. But, in time, we grew old and desperate, ever aching for a child, and so we agreed to Rhadiourgia's terms. It has been both the greatest and most unfortunate decision of our lives.

Rhadiourgia is a creature of chance and mischief, as we soon learned. With your birth he gave us the small bone die contained within this box. It is what gave us the power to heal and it is now your inheritance. It will bestow upon you untold power to heal others. He decides the outcome. You MUST keep it close. 

Please forgive us, dear son. It was love that blinded us and knowing you must now live with that creature burdens us deeply. You can become great, Jaydan, of that I am certain. We could not be more proud of everything you are and everything you will be. And if there is a way out from Rhadiourgia, I know you will find it.
With all our love and sorrow,
Mom and Dad

Jaydan read the letter twice in quick succession, thinking the words an illusion of some sort. Then he read it a third time, more slowly, digesting each part as the pit in his stomach grew. He brought out the die and held it to the sun. He felt nothing strange or powerful from the artifact, which should have given him comfort, but it did quite the opposite. Everything in the world held some amount of magical energy; it persisted everywhere and in everything to varying degrees. Being able to sense the magic of the world was the first step toward wielding it at will. But the bone die was no different than any other mundane item.

“Rhadiourgia,” he whispered to the die. It felt familiar on his tongue, like he had said it a million times before. “So that’s your name?”

Movement nearby arrested the spiral of thoughts and hid any reply.

Tannyl had returned, suddenly appearing from behind a tree. His face was all scowl, his mouth a firm line. He marched straight at Jaydan, and gestured back over his shoulder.

“Do something about this.”

Jaydan quickly stuffed the letter and die back in the box and returned it to the pocket at his side. He steeled himself and pushed all thoughts of it out of his mind. Knowing he wasn’t crazy after all would have to be enough. Anything more could wait until later.

The water of the stream was clear and cool, like nothing Adelaide had seen before. She never went a night without a hot bath, poured and scented to her preference, but this… Something about being in the strange forest was refreshing. It was dirty, to be sure, and she despised filth, but in the moment, amid the tranquil pass of water, it was serene.

Beyond the copse of trees at the top of the bank, she could hear the raucous laughter of the one they called Sachihiro, the calm murmur of Jaydan, firm statements from Alexander, and the arrogantly angry retorts from the elf, Tannyl. She didn’t like that one. He lacked manners. Altogether, they were an odd group to be sure. Their names told her that much.
Alexander
was clearly an Imperial title; she knew four with the same name back home.
Jaydan
sounded Imperial as well, though she couldn’t quite place it. And
Sachihiro
sounded plain made up.
Tannyl
was the only name she thought suited the Great Wyld. Untamed.

She leaned back, letting the water run through her hair, replacing the distant voices with the mumble of the stream. The others were equally uncivilized, but at least showed her some amount of respect. Her siblings that were not siblings often said that the Great Wyld was a place of beasts and monsters, and bad people that didn’t deserve to live within Imperial borders. Miss Hastings claimed to have many stories about such monsters, but Adelaide forbade her tell them for fear of more nightmares. She had enough trouble sleeping as it was.

She should have been frightened, or at least unnerved, but she wasn’t. Despite the strangeness that surrounded her, a small part of her felt liberated, and that seemed more important. But there was the nagging worry of her given duty. She had to find Thiladir. Miss Hastings had told her she must, and Miss Hastings never lied. Not ever. And she was ever so serious when she told Adelaide. She even cried a bit as she carved the runes to send her there. But, though honest, Miss Hastings was not a Runemaster, nor any sort of master, really. She was Void as well, lacking all magical ability. Not that it bothered Adelaide. It was the one thing they shared.

Floating in the stream, she frowned, remembering all the jeers she had endured when the Chosen were sent to the Academy and she was left behind with the other Void. She often wondered if that was why her mother wanted her dead. That, too, Miss Hastings had told her. It seemed the most important thing of all. Adelaide should have questioned her more about it in the moment, but it was quite a lot for an eight-year-old to handle all at once. She rarely saw her mother, but in their limited time together she found it very plausible that she could desire Adelaide dead. She wanted lots of people dead. And just as Miss Hastings was always honest, her mother always got what she wanted. But the fact still stung. When she really thought about it. Which she preferred not to do.

She rose from the water, feeling clean and refreshed. Reborn. The cacophony from beyond the bank had risen. She could pick out three distinctly joyous voices and one decidedly unimpressed. She smiled. They were a sorry lot. Luckily, they had her to show them the way.

Chapter Seven

ALEXANDER HAD NEVER laughed so hard in all of his nineteen years. Tears ran openly down both cheeks and his sides felt fit to split. He could no longer keep himself upright and had resorted to leaning on a nearby stump for support.

“And then I grabbed the dragon by the nostril,” Erlen was saying, miming in midair as he did. “With my other hand I grabbed its eyelash, real tight. It shook the ol’ Dragontamer something wild, but I held on. Despite all the dragon snot and tears, and I tell you, I was covered, I held on, and I…”

Alexander, Sachihiro, and Jaydan waited with bated breath at the pause, while Tannyl rolled his eyes.