by J. R. Castle
Jael pulled the cart to the side of the road and removed his harness before heading around to the back. “You stay here while ol’ Jael goes to take care of some business.” He brought out a silver thread, like the chain of a necklace and held it between his hands. “Come here, Little Bit.”
Before she was able to decide to obey him or not, he moved toward her, whipping the thin chain around her left leg and giving a sharp tug. It circled around and fused together. The other end he attached to an eye-hook on the side of the cart. “This’ll keep you here. An’ keep you safe. So don’t—”
Kardia wasn’t having any of this. She kicked back her leg to break the tiny strand, but it held firm. Bending down, she tried to grasp it with her short thumb, but the metal burned her skin, leaving a long, braided welt. She screamed.
Jael’s hand clamped over her mouth. “No fussing. Listen to me, this is for your own good.” He pulled her up until she stood again. Her heart raced so fast she feared it might hop out of her chest and take off without her.
“Try and break free and you’ll get more of those welts,” he warned. “And trust me, you’ll not break free. Got that silver rope off a clever witch, I did. I use it to capture the goodies I use in trade. So, be a good girl. Stay put and stay quiet and soon we’ll be on our way again.”
He returned to the cart and rummaged inside. Several strange noises came from the open door, followed by his harsh hiss to stay quiet or there’ll be trouble. Kardia tried once more to pull her leg free, but the strand held strong, burning her skin when she pulled too hard. It was only long enough to allow her a couple of steps in any direction.
She was trapped!
Jael pulled out a small cage covered in a black cloth. The top had a small hook which he held between his fingers. “Don’t fight it. And don’t try yelling out. I mean you’ll only bring more trouble if you fuss. Sit tight and I’ll be back quicker than a darting pixie.”
Something moved the dangling cage. Kardia heard what sounded like chirps and rushing water. “What—”
“Mind your own, Little Bit.” Jael snapped, shaking his finger in her face. “I like you. Don’t misbehave and make me dislike you. That’ll be bad.”
With that threat hanging between them, he turned and trotted toward the village. Kardia slowly sank onto the ground, trying not to touch the cursed chain. She buried her face in her palms and wept. Why did she keep trusting the wrong kind of people?
Her chest ached. She really liked Jael and had been happy to have a friend again. But no friend would tie her to a cart by an enchanted rope. Nor would a friend threaten her as the faun had. Which meant he wasn’t a friend at all, but another captor.
A sound within the forest, like the snapping of a branch, caused her breath to catch. She glanced up and looked around. Wiping her sleeve across her face, she peered into the darkening woods, wondering what made that sound. A baddie? She couldn’t imagine anything good lurking in this place.
Kardia scooted closer to the cart until her back hit the wheel, causing it to wobble. The movement brought another sound, melodic like birds singing, from within. Had he left the cart open for once? She slowly stood and moved around to the back. One door was ajar. She peered around the side, and not seeing Jael anywhere in sight, opened the door to peek inside.
Rows of small cages hung along one side of the box. The other held shelves of jars containing all sorts of strange objects. Wings the size of a bird that still fluttered and dimly glowed. Stones pulsing with various colors. One of the containers, she feared, held the heart of something. Or someone. Revulsion sent tremors through her body.
“What are you trading, Jael? And why?”
A flash of light shone from beneath the covering of a larger cage. Holding her breath, Kardia slid her hand under the edge of the silky fabric and lifted. “Oh my!” she exclaimed at the sight of a tiny woman dressed in leaves and tiny flowers.
The strange chattering sound grew more intense.
“A faerie!” Kardia had seen drawings of them in the books she’d read while living at the Meeting Hall. “You’re a…but…”
The winged creature stretched her tiny arms between the branch bars, reaching for Kardia’s damaged hand. Finding the faerie fascinating, she held her palm upward within reach.
The faerie’s clawed fingers dug into Kardia’s thumb and pulled it against the cage where it managed to take a sharp bite from her flesh. The bite felt like the sting of a hornet. Kardia cried out and started to let the cloth drop when she heard inside her mind, “Kardia, do not be afraid, Sano child.”
Kardia’s mouth gaped open. It knew her name and her talent? And it could speak inside her head!
“I am a Visionary Faerie, dear Kardia. I can see the here and now and soon to be. He is coming. The Guardian comes for you. Do not forget me, dear Kardia. Do not forget me when he comes.”
“When who comes?” Kardia asked.
The faerie began chattering again and hopping in her cage waving her arms as if to shoo her away. “Go! Jael. He comes. Do not let him know you saw me. Or he will make you pay dearly. Go. Go!”
Chapter Five
Darnel reclined on the plush settee, warming his boots by the crackling fire in the hearth. Fajer paced around the roomy study in wandering circles while he examined the fine leather text lining the shelves and peered into decorative boxes to check their content.
The people who owned the Manor they’d commandeered must have had a thriving trade in Osas. Darnel assumed they were Clothiers from the stock of fabrics and other goods they kept stored in the spare rooms and cellar. Sending them away on a trip would not raise questions in town since the family was rumored to often traveled to trade their goods in nearby villages, anyway.
Darnel had watched the family for a couple of weeks while Fajer continued to regain his strength. Once they’d been able to capture a few letters of correspondence, they managed to conceive a plan of taking over the manor. Fajer still had enough powers to change the contents of a family letter they’d intercepted. Anwynn had helped, infusing some of her powers into him, until the sorcerer grew greedy and Darnel needed to intervene.
Anwynn refused to have anything to do with Fajer since then to the point of not even speaking to him unless absolutely necessary.
“May as well make yourself comfortable,” Darnel said, swirling a glass filled with the finest wine he’d tasted in some time. The family seemed to trade only the best merchandise. “She’ll return soon.”
Even now, Anwynn answered to Darnel instead of Fajer. She had little patience for weaklings. Darnel had not explained Fajer’s loss of magic. However, the elf was no fool. Between Fajer’s moping and loss of interest in their futures, she sensed fairly quickly that the authority of their little group had transferred to a new master.
Now she came to him for everything.
Darnel reveled in the euphoria of finally being in command.
Fajer slammed the lid back onto a box. “We cannot get too comfortable here. What is taking her so long? That family—”
“By the time they reach their destination and realize they’ve been deceived, we’ll be done here,” he answered, bored of this discussion.
The family who owned the manor had been suddenly called away. The forged letter they’d received had compelled them to pack for a long stay in another province where they had relatives. The journey alone would take them a couple of weeks to reach their destination.
Darnel had come along while they packed and had persuaded them to accept his gracious offer to watch over everything until they returned. He smiled and sipped his wine, thankful his powers were as strong as ever. “What I’m concerned about is what they’ll return to. How safe will it be to call forth an under-worldling here?”
They’d chosen the manor because of its distance from Osas and the secluded location, tucked against the low, rolling hills that hugged the town protectively.
Nobody should miss the Clothier’s absence. As a precaution, Darnel had a lett
er sent to the city’s Prior announcing the trip and stating that, during their departure, visiting cousins would watch over the manor for them. The lazy overseer hadn’t even come to check the validity of the letter.
Darnel chuckled to himself. This town would be easy to take over, but Fajer’s plan had set his aspirations higher. Besides, taking over one town would require having to fight tirelessly to keep this little hovel until he managed to cage the ruling lion.
Fajer abandoned his nervous pacing and sat in a winged-back chair opposite Darnel. Pouring himself a full glass of wine, he gulped down half of the golden drink before saying, “I don’t believe it matters where we do it. We’ll probably all be killed in the process. This is a dangerous scheme—”
“If the Brethren can do it, so can we. I think we’ll conduct the ceremony behind the barn where the ground is rocky.” According to the books he’d studied, stone made for a better doorway between worlds than dirt for some reason.
Fajer finished off the glass, then poured another. From his nervousness, Darnel knew he should be more worried over what they planned to do, but he was confident in his Logorian bloodline. He was confident that he’d be able to rule the under-worlder with no problem.
“Relax, Fajer. You want your powers back, don’t you?” Darnel waited for the sorcerer’s reluctant nod. “Is there another way? If so, I’d love to know how.”
Fajer ran his hand over his bald, tattooed head. “I’m not sure. The Brethren always conducted their ceremony so that everyone could benefit. I’ve never…”
The front door opened, bringing in Anwynn’s trilling laugh mixed with a deeper chuckle. The second, deeper voice sounded slurred and a little too loud. Darnel and Fajer both quickly moved from their seats. Darnel made sure to hide any evidence of their presence. With the bottle tucked under his arm and his empty glass in one hand, he moved behind a screen divider where Fajer already hid from sight.
They’d set up the divider in the corner before Anwynn left. She’d threatened to disfigure them both while they slept if they left her to deal with the inebriated man by herself.
“Have a seat, dearie,” Anwynn’s tone was sickeningly flirtatious. “Let me fix us something—”
“No thank you, lass,” Koloman’s voice lowered. “I’ve had enough to drink.”
Darnel heard a gasp from Anwynn. He tried peering around the partition, but the man faced their direction. She needed to get him turned around so his back was to them. A surprise ambush would make gaining control of the adviser much easier. Darnel did not wish to fight anyone.
Fajer leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He seemed bored as he stared down at the floor. Something told Darnel that the sorcerer would be no help. He was too reluctant to go along with their plan.
“Get your hands off me!” The elf shouted. The whine of steel cutting air told Darnel he needed to move.
“Pull a knife on me…” Koloman growled. “But…how? Where…?”
Darnel glanced around, looking for something he could use to blend himself into. There were so many colorful items cluttering the room, he had nothing solid to draw from. Finally, he settled on the screen and willed himself to blend in, to become invisible.
“Back off,” Anwynn warned.
Darnel came around the screen, his movements slow like a panther as he closed the distance between himself and the man. For a moment, Koloman’s eyes widened, as if he saw Darnel, or at least his outline. When he turned toward Darnel, Anwynn brought the hilt of her dagger down on the back of his head hard enough to knock him to the floor.
Thinking of causing the man pain, he mentally pushed into the man’s mind, incapacitating him while Anwynn secured his arms and feet.
“Sit him up,” Darnel ordered. “Fajer, come on out.” He bent over the body, searching for his medallion. He had one, but somehow, it was tarnished, though Darnel had never seen gold tarnish. “This is interesting. Looks like you’re wearing this for show, Master Adviser. Or should I say, unemployed adviser? Isn’t that why you’re hiding here in Osas?” Darnel threw the disk aside. It swung on the chain, smacking Koloman’s ear. “Maybe that’s a fake. Is that the case?”
Darnel tried breaking into his thoughts but found a solid block. Blast, it was real and protecting at least his thoughts from outsiders. What a mystery. But he’d never been interested in the binding disk people kept chained around their necks. Pledging himself to someone was not something he took lightly. Even his connection with Fajer was a daily trial he planned to someday break once the wizard was no longer useful to him.
Koloman’s eyes fluttered open. “Not fake. Who are you? What is this?”
The sooner they got what information they needed from him, the sooner they’d conduct the draining ceremony and be on their way. Like Fajer, Darnel didn’t wish to remain in one spot for too long. Let the pit demon have the scum, Darnel would enjoy watching him turn to ash.
Fajer stepped closer. “What is his skill?”
Darnel shook his head. “The emblem is so worn and darkened, it’s hard to tell. Doesn’t matter. What do you want to know, Fajer? Let’s get him talking.”
Kolomon glared up at all three of them before grounding out his threat, “I’ll tell none of you anything! Who are you and what—”
Darnel sent pain energy at the man until he screamed. Even then, Darnel did not let up until his face had turned white and sweat matted his graying hair. “Who we are is the least of your concerns.”
“Filthy wizards,” Koloman spat. “That’s what you are. I’ll have you all in prison for this.”
Darnel cast another wave of pain, using even more energy until he started to feel the drain. Fajer grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Enough. Let’s not kill him, yet. Besides, I have something that will loosen his silvery tongue. Anwynn, give him the rest of the potion I sent with you.”
Her eyes darkened a moment, but she did what he said. Grabbing his chin with one hand and prying open his mouth, she drizzled the green liquid onto his tongue. Then she shoved him away like a flea-ridden mutt and moved to stand beside the hearth.
A trickle of blood came from Koloman’s nose and stained the carpet.
Darnel took the winged back chair and crossed his long legs. “Ask him your questions, Fajer. If he doesn’t answer, I’ll make him hurt until he wishes he were dead.”
Anwynn shifted, causing her gown to rustle around her feet. She’d hated putting it on and even now Darnel could tell she was uncomfortable in the unnatural fabric that hugged her trim form like a second skin. “I thought you could probe minds, Darnel. Can’t you retrieve the information Fajer wants?”
The muscles in Darnel’s jaw flexed. “Not while he wears the medallion, even if it is nothing but a bauble to him.”
“Well, take it off,” Anwynn darted forward to grasp the medallion resting against his chest. It gave her such a shock, she cried out, waving her burnt hand.
“That’s a good way to lose your fingers, elf.” Darnel covered his laughter with his knuckles.
Fajer chuckled and sat back in his chair with a smug grin. “She has much to learn about humans, I fear. Anwynn, go change from that horrid dress, you look like a tavern hussy.”
Anwynn glanced down at the red dress that dipped too low over her bosom. She then looked to Darnel with a questioning look. At his nod, she sauntered toward the hall leading to their sleeping quarters.
Koloman lifted his head enough to follow her retreat with his hungry gaze.
Anwynn was strikingly beautiful when she wanted to be. Her elfin figure was perfectly proportioned and her movements graceful and alluring. Darnel was sure her elfin enchantments also helped in charming the human to coerce him into doing what she asked.
If it weren’t for the orange cast to her skin and her pointed ears, one would find it difficult to tell her apart from even the most highbrow gentry dressed in all their finery. For Anwynn, that beauty came naturally.
“After you change,” Fajer called after her.
“Would you mind preparing a meal for us? Let Darnel and I handle the regent’s adviser.” He pulled a stool closer to the panting man and nudged him with his foot.
Koloman’s head rested back on the polished wood floor. “I’m no longer working for the new regent. You are wasting your time with me, wizard.”
Leaning his elbows on his knees, Fajer stroked his beard and stared down at the man for a long moment. “Sounds like you’ve been sorely treated, Koloman. Isn’t that your name? You’ve been an adviser for Rodonal for many years, have you not?”
“Thirty!” His voice slurred as the potion took effect, clouding his mind and loosening his tongue. “I served Leonard’s father faithfully for thirty years. Now the whelp comes to power and wants…” Koloman stopped speaking with a twitch of his head.
There were still some loyalties linking him to the regent. Darnel began gathering his energy for another bout with the stubborn old man.
Fajer raised his hand, halting him. “Thirty years of service and you are left by the wayside. That is a terrible injustice.” He turned toward Darnel, his face a mask of indignation. “And to think, this is what we are left with as our leader. A young cub, barely out of short pants. One who thinks he knows all he needs to know. This is what will rule our province. It’s a travesty, don’t you think?”
And the more Fajer carried on, the more nods the adviser awarded him with until Fajer had Koloman sitting up and talking about the new regent’s juvenile ideas on handling the towns in his care. Fajer ordered the man’s hands loosened, with the warning that if he tried anything, Darnel was perfectly able to stop him.
“My friend has the capabilities to cook a man’s brain inside his head,” Fajer boasted.
Darnel wasn’t so sure about that but made no effort to disagree. He was spent from what energy he’d used up and was hoping the human wouldn’t give them any more problems.
Koloman, whose feet remained tied, assured them he had nowhere to go and accepted the tea Anwynn brought them with gratefulness.
Darnel wondered over the man’s change of heart. Was he truly so put out over being dismissed from his position that he was willing to speak with anyone who offered a listening ear? Perhaps the potion was at work, or maybe Fajer’s charms were still as powerful as they ever were.
