Nerillia allowed her to rest that way for a few minutes, then gently pushed her back down onto the bed. She pulled the light blanket up over Tionne and smoothed it down around her. Tionne had a vague recollection of her mother doing something similar, but it was so long ago that she couldn't really be sure. She knew that she liked the care Nerillia showed her, and that was all that mattered.
“You need to get some sleep, precious girl. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Oh?” Tionne tried to sit up again, but when Nerillia pushed her back down, she settled for turning her head toward the Lamiad. “What happens today?”
“A technician is coming to repair the damage to Zarfensis's leg. Once that happens, we'll be more free to move around the city and we won't have to rely on the safe house quite so much.”
“I still don't understand why he is so important,” Tionne complained. “Aren't there thousands of Xarundi? Why does it have to be him?”
“There are only a couple hundred of Xarundi left. They were thinned out by the battle here in Dragonfell, then again by a brutal civil war that started after Stryne was released from his prison. Zarfensis, for all his gruff nature, is one of the only priests they have left.
And he's not just any priest, he's the High Priest and the Runekeeper for the Dyr. Do you know what that means?”
Tionne nodded.
“He protects one of the stones of the Ancients. The stone of death. We learned about the runes in the Academy.”
Nerillia smiled, her teeth glittering in the semi-dark.
“Then you know how important he is to our cause. He controls the power of the Ancient Dyr. It is that power that will allow us to fulfill our purpose and finally drive the humans from Dragonfell.”
Tionne had a sudden sense of misgiving. It wasn't the first time that Nerillia or Zarfensis had talked about driving the humans from the city and killing as many of them as possible. She knew she was different, but she was still human. Would she die by Nerillia's hand? Would Zarfensis descend on her and tear her limb from limb as he'd done to her parents and baby Raynold? She shuddered, and Nerillia leaned over her, putting a hand on each of her shoulders. The Lamiad gave her a little shake.
“Don't be ridiculous, Tionne. You're special. Even Zarfensis said so. Even Stryne, one of the oldest creatures on Solendrea, recognizes your power. Nothing will happen to you. I promise.”
“Can you hear everything I think?” Tionne asked, somewhat abashed.
“No.” Nerillia smiled at her. “Just the things you think that are particularly loud or unexpected. I hear most of your worries. Sometimes I hear what you think about me.”
The blood that had subsided from her cheeks suddenly raced back to renew the flush and Tionne turned her face away. She was all too aware of the thoughts Nerillia had heard and the discomfort was almost too much to bear.
“Shhhhh,” Nerillia whispered, caressing the side of Tionne's neck with one hand. “There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I like you too. We have time. Maybe when you're a little older--”
“I'm old enough,” Tionne said, her voice sharper than she'd intended.
“Yes, you are. However, we have a mission to complete. Our duty has to come before all else. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Nerillia.”
“That's my good girl.” The Lamiad stood and stretched, her spine popping loudly in the quiet room. “Get some rest. You'll need it. I need some too. I'll see you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
Tionne thought her voice sounded very small and very far away, but Nerillia didn't seem to notice. She disappeared through the bedroom door and Tionne listened until her footsteps retreated to her own room.
Get some rest, she'd said. Tionne wasn't sure that was going to happen. It was probably only a few hours until dawn and she was still wound up over what Nerillia had said. More importantly, what she'd heard. Tionne would have to be more careful about shielding her thoughts from the Lamiad.
She wished she'd paid more attention to her classes at the School of Academics. She had a vague understanding of how such hidden thoughts were supposed to be managed, but the details eluded her. It was something she'd have to try and figure out through trial and error.
Even so, for as embarrassed as she felt, her thoughts kept turning back to the gentle touches Nerillia had given her. She'd said she liked Tionne too. What did that mean? Was it the same type of longing need that Tionne felt for her?
Tionne rolled over and these questions chased themselves around her thoughts under she finally fell into a fitful sleep. Morning, when it came, was entirely too early.
#
“Where is the damned technician?” Zarfensis snarled.
Nerillia looked up from the table where she sat with a mug of spiced wine between her hands. Tionne saw her shake her head at the Xarundi’s impatience. A trait which seemed to define Zarfensis more and more with each passing day.
“He will be here, Your Holiness. Patience.”
“Do not counsel me to patience when you can easily move about of your own accord,” the massive lupine creature snapped. “I will be patient when I am whole again. Not before.”
Tionne remained quiet. She'd seen Nerillia and Zarfensis get into an argument before and it wasn't something she wanted to witness again so soon. Or ever. They were both fearsome fighters in their way. Even though the clash hadn't come to blows, it was easy for Tionne to see how dangerous they were. It was one of the only times that she'd had serious second thoughts about abandoning her training with the Order and forsaking Faxon as her Master.
As if summoned by the conflict, there was a scratching at the door. Nerillia leapt to her feet and pressed her eye to the peep hole. Then she knelt down and peered through a lower peephole. She nodded to herself and unlatched the heavy locks.
“He's here.”
Nerillia opened the door and Greneks, the gnome technician, waddled into the common room of the safe house. Greneks was no more than about two feet tall, with coal black skin and enormous black eyes and seemed to drink in any light they encountered. A wide semicircle of a mouth surrounded the lower half of his face and large flaps of skin, like a bat's wings, sprouted from the sides of his head. These ears swiveled to and fro, catching whatever sounds happened to be nearby. He had long fingers tapered to small points.
He was dressed in simple breeches and a waistcoat, with a pack slung over one shoulder and a pipe sticking out from between his wide lips. This he puffed constantly, a haze of noxious smelling smoke belching from the tiny creature.
There were very few things that brought Tionne any real joy. Joy that would temporarily replace the aching emptiness within her. Gazing down at Greneks, she knew that gnomes were one of those things. Nerillia had told her that they were poisonous and could be incredibly dangerous when threatened, but Tionne didn't care. She was delighted with the tiny man and his miniature implements. As soon as Greneks entered the building, she slipped off the bench she'd been seated on and sat, cross-legged, on the floor.
Greneks promptly ignored both Nerillia and Zarfensis and came to stand in front of the girl. He bowed deeply from the waist, nearly toppling his pointed blue hat from where it was precariously perched behind his ears.
“Greneks, I am, little miss,” he said, thumping his chest with one hand. “Is pleased to meet you, yes! What call you, do they?”
Tionne glanced at Nerillia, who gave her a little smile and a nod. Zarfensis stood behind her. It was obvious that he was agitated, but he hadn't said a word since Nerillia had closed the door.
“I am Tionne, Greneks. I'm pleased to meet you too.”
The gnome nodded vigorously, his oversized head bobbing back and forth. He smiled and took one of her fingers in his tiny hand, pumping it up and down.
“Tionne is powerful mage, yes? Power of the Ancients, one with. Is good.”
“Yes, she's a powerful mage. Now to the reason why you're here,” Zarfensis snarled.
Greneks
turned to the Xarundi and made a strange screeching sound. Tionne found herself startled when the little creature threw back his head and snapped his jaw open, revealing two rows of sharp, shark like teeth. Zarfensis raised both hands in supplication and the gnome quickly returned to his docile form.
“Xarundi,” Greneks sniffed. “Is always work, work, work. Is no time to make nice with the pretties.”
Tionne laughed and the little man grinned at her. He tapped out the contents of his pipe on the floor and ground the orange embers out with the heel of his tiny boot. Then he turned to Zarfensis.
“Yes, High Priest. To be repairing your leg, I will. Materials needed, yes? And much gold, also.”
Tionne thought she saw something unpleasant flicker across Zarfensis's features, but it was gone so quickly she couldn't be sure. The gnome seemed harmless enough. Why would the High Priest of the Xarundi have anything to fear from a creature so much smaller than himself? He certainly didn't seem to be threatened by either Nerillia or herself.
“This way, Greneks,” Zarfensis growled, motioning toward a back room. “The materials and your payment have been gathered.”
Nerillia didn't speak until the door had closed behind them. Then she heaved a massive sigh and sank to the bench Tionne had vacated.
“I hate those things,” she said, placing heavy emphasis on the last word. “I can't hear anything from them and they make me nervous.”
“I don't think he means any harm,” Tionne replied. “Except maybe to Zarfensis, and maybe a little bit of a kicking would do him some good.”
Nerillia frowned. “Don't let him hear you say that, Tionne. Better yet, don't say it at all. Certain parts of our plan will require his skills and he's not stable. Not by a long shot.”
Tionne looked down at her hands. She hated being talked to like a child and she hated it even more when Nerillia did it. She quickly sublimated her thoughts, forcing them down away from the surface of her mind. Tionne thought she must have done a decent job of it, since Nerillia didn't react in any fashion.
“Come on,” Nerillia said, climbing to her feet. She offered Tionne a hand and helped her up. “There is a ritual we must prepare for, and I need to teach you some of the spells before we can perform it. It must be perfect, so we'll practice while they work.”
Tionne let Nerillia lead her into an upstairs room she'd set aside as a study. They worked there together for the better part of the afternoon, the Lamiad coaching Tionne until the younger woman's intonation was perfect. It took a long time, but Nerillia was finally satisfied with her performance, and Tionne was more than willing to call that a success.
CHAPTER SIX
Cold grey walls slimy with black mold closed in on every side. No matter which direction Tiadaria turned, she was faced with another wall of unyielding stone. The smell of mildew hung in the air, so thick she could feel it in the back of her throat. Slow, rattling breaths were drawn by something hidden in the blackness.
Tia whirled, her hands dropping to her sides, but her sword belt wasn't there. She had neither weapons nor armor, her only protection from the horrors of this dank place was a nightshirt. Somewhere, nearby, Tiadaria heard a woman scream. It was a raw, grating sound, the sound of a woman in unimaginable agony.
Her eyes snapped open and it took Tia a moment to realize that the screaming had just been intruding on her nightmare. It was very real, very loud, and very close by. Wynn lay pressed up against her, one arm draped across her hip. She nudged him with her elbow. He grunted and rolled away from her.
How he could sleep with the woman going on that way was beyond her. She swung her feet off the bed and into her boots. She slipped her breeches over the boots and shucked the nightshirt without modesty, replacing it with a durable tunic and belt.
“Wynn, get up. There's trouble.” She didn't speak loudly. Her tone of voice was even but firm. It cut through his sleep and his good eye snapped open.
“What kind of trouble?” His voice was hoarse with sleep, but he was already out of bed and pulling his robes over his head.
“I don't know.”
“Well good,” he said, picking up his staff from the corner where it rested. “Who needs a full night's sleep anyhow?”
Tiadaria lifted her sword belt from the post at the foot of the bed as she passed. She didn't lose a single stride as she looped the belt around her waist and cinched it tight. Tia felt the familiar twinge of pain as the scabbards slapped against her thighs. That pain was reassuring in a perverse way. She always felt a little naked without her weapons and the pain of steel so near her skin was a tactile reminder of the weapons that awaited her call.
They took the steps to the common room two at a time. It was empty and dark. The screaming was coming from a room behind the bar. Tiadaria vaulted over, effortlessly clearing the top of the bar and leaving Wynn to take the long way around. She took the knob in hand, waited only a moment, then twisted it and threw the door open.
Tiadaria stumbled back in horror. Wynn stepped forward, unable to lower his staff in the close confines of the tiny room. It was just as well, his mind was preoccupied with sorting out the scene in front of him. Casting a spell would have been impossible.
The woman doing the screaming was backed into the corner. The bed was turned on its side, providing a flimsy barrier against which the horror repeatedly flung itself.
Wynn supposed it had been a man at some point in recent history. A farmer judging by the dirty feet and patched pants. Its arms were stretched out in front of it and it was clawing at the bed as if trying to dig through the wood.
Its head was what turned Wynn's blood cold. The eyes were rolled back in the head, showing only red-tinted whites. Blood oozed from wherever it found a way free of the body. Trickles of blood leaked from the ears, the nostrils, and the eyes. The worst part, Wynn would reflect later, was the thing's mouth. The jaw hung limply away from the rest of the skull, its hinge broken so forcefully that it was almost torn off.
The blood had congealed in that distended maw and a grotesque face peered out at him, its black eyes glittering like coal.
“Move!”
Wynn didn't need to be told twice. The tiny room didn't give him many options, so he flattened himself against the wall to his right as Tia passed him, scimitar drawn.
The thing took a step toward her and she plunged the tip of her sword directly into the heart. There was a ripping sound as the tip of the scimitar exited through the back of the threadbare tunic it wore.
It grabbed her by the shoulders, ignoring the blade that had run it through. As its face got nearer to hers, the blood began to expand outward, long tendrils of crimson fluid snaking toward her eyes and ears.
Tia gripped the scimitar tight with both hands and shoved the creature back with one foot, managing to free her blade. She spun and the thing raised its hands as if trying to fend off her attack. The blade sliced through one wrist, parted the head from the neck, and then through the other wrist.
What had once been a farmer collapsed in a pile of parts. As soon as the body hit the floor, the tendrils of blood snaked out, seeking a new host. They slid under the edge of the bed incredibly quickly, blood snakes seeking out new prey.
They found a target in the woman who still hadn't stopped screaming. The ribbons of blood wound their way up her legs and then around her arms and torso. As they slipped into her ears, the scream stopped abruptly, as if cut off with a knife. Smaller tendrils split off from the main ropes and invaded the woman's eyes and mouth.
Tia and Wynn watched in stunned disgust as the blood drew itself into the woman's mouth, the hideous face beginning to form in a new host. There was a sickening pop as the woman's jaw snapped, making room for the bulk of the blood creature.
She couldn't be certain, but Tiadaria thought that the thing peeking out from beyond a row of yellowed teeth had gotten bigger. The woman got to her feet with a speed that Tia couldn't believe and threw herself out the tiny window beyond the bed. There was a wet thud i
n the night beyond, and then silence.
Wynn gingerly stepped over the body of the farmer and stuck his head out the window. Before Tiadaria could scold him for his recklessness, he withdrew from the jagged hole and shrugged.
“Whatever that was, it's gone now.”
“We need to go after it.”
Wynn looked at her as if she had suddenly sprouted wings and a tail. “Are you out of your mind?”
“We can't just leave it to terrorize the city!”
“I'm not suggesting we do. We need to find Faxon and figure out what in the name of hell that thing was, and how we kill it.”
Though she didn't fancy the idea of leaving whatever that thing was loose in the city, she had to accept that Wynn's plan was the most rational and logical thing to do. She sheathed her scimitar and motioned for the door.
“Come on then. I don't want to leave that thing out there for any longer than we have to.”
Wynn shook his head. “Nor do I.”
They dashed out of the common room and into the street. Though most of the street lights had been doused for the night, enough remained on street corners that they could see the chaos that Dragonfell had been plunged into.
The creature that had been in their inn was one of many, it seemed, judging by the shouting in the streets and people running madly in all directions. A sea of people was surging up the wide main street, running over any of their number unfortunate enough to stumble and fall.
Tiadaria and Wynn flattened themselves against the wall of the inn as the mob passed and in a few moments the street was empty save for the stragglers who had been trampled. Many of those lie motionless in the street.
“Come on,” Wynn said, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the wall.
Tia willingly followed. They needed Faxon and they needed him now. There was no telling how many of those creatures were loose in Dragonfell or what kind of casualties they were causing. No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than she noticed something even more ominous than the thing they had pursued. Her half gasp, half sigh alerted Wynn and he spun to look at her.
The Swordmage Trilogy Bundle, Volumes 1-3 Page 44
