Blue Blood (Series of Blood Book 3)

by Emma Hamm

  “Well, that’s true. But I’m quite certain that there’s something very important for us to find here. Please. Trust me.”

  He didn’t want to trust her. The smart decision was to ignore the tiny Fairy in his head and to run. There weren’t any creatures here to look over his shoulder. No one could drag him back to Malachi. And then he could bring an army back to Lyra. Jasper wasn’t going to be able to save her alone. The other man who loved her, however, likely could.

  What little Jasper had seen of Wolfgang’s powers convinced him of that. The dead man was capable of protecting the things he loved. It stung to admit Wolfgang loved Lyra enough to turn himself into a monster just to save her. And Jasper was willing to turn to monsters for help.

  He hated that he would forever watch them love each other from afar, when it should have been him.

  A long breath hissed through his teeth as he stared between ivy covered columns. He didn’t want to go home and find them together, just in case Malachi was lying. He didn’t want to think about what his life was going to be like now. He wanted to claim whatever was in the center of this maze.

  “Damn it, curiosity killed the cat,” he muttered.

  “But satisfaction brought it back,” Bluebell responded.

  “What?”

  “That’s how that saying ends.”

  “I’ve never heard it said like that.”

  “But—” Bluebell stuttered, “but that’s how it ends.”

  “I don’t know if you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right.”

  He snorted. “Like you know how to solve mazes?”

  “I know that too!”

  “Bluebell, we have spent the last three hours trying to find the middle of this maze. We’ve been going in circles.”

  “You don’t know it’s been three hours.”

  “I can track the movement of the sun. And I can tell you, with total confidence might I add, that it has been about three hours.”

  She fell silent for a few moments before he heard her heave a sigh. “Fine. Then we’ve had enough fun, I suppose. Teleport right.”

  Jasper moved to teleport before her words sunk in. He clenched his fists and bit his tongue. Controlling his anger would be important if he wanted the truth. She tended to hold grudges if he got short with her.

  “Bluebell,” he began, “have you known the correct direction this entire time?”

  “Maybe.”

  Now, he seriously considered strangling himself. Of course she had known the way this entire time. Why else would she have giggled every time she told him to go in a different direction?

  He didn’t retaliate. He didn’t yell at her, because he already knew that was a waste of time. She was a Fairy. They were mischievous and strange, but they weren’t malicious. She hadn’t been leading him in circles to make him angry. She had just been enjoying herself.

  So rather than yelling as he wanted to, Jasper teleported to the right. At the end of the long line of hedges, he paused again.

  “Left or right?” Jasper asked.

  “Neither.”

  “What?”

  “The wall in front of you isn’t a wall. You just need to walk through it, and we’ll be in the center of the maze.”

  “A false end,” he muttered. “That’s just cruel.”

  Jasper stepped forward, expecting the ivy to retract as it had before. He walked all the way up to the living wall until it nearly touched his nose. Still, it did not move.

  “How do I open it, Bluebell?”

  “You have to touch it.”

  “Is it going to bite me?”

  “It’s ivy, Jasper. What do you think?”

  He sighed. He could do without the sass, but refrained from starting another argument. He had likely taught her to be sassy anyway. Instead, he reached out and pressed his hand against the cool, green vines.

  They slithered under his palm, undulating like eels, but stilled as he removed his hand. He locked his jaw and held his hand to the unnatural greenery again. He forced himself to ignore the snakelike movements and to remain in place until the opening was large enough to slide through.

  Ivy scraped against his clothing with surprising sharpness. Each leaf had razor sharp edges, slicing against his armor with every movement he made. They had yet to draw blood, and he held his breath to still his movements.

  He stepped clear of the bladed plants and brushed his hands down his chest. He had escaped without bloodshed, it appeared, as his palms had not smeared any blue over himself. Rustling leaves caught his attention, and he turned to stare at the center of the maze.

  Before him stood the largest tree he had ever seen. It was enormous enough to be nearly indescribable, stretching so high into the sky that he could not see the top. Each branch bore dangling strands of willow leaves that trailed to the ground around him. Small, sparkling fireflies danced upon each bough.

  Green moss adorned the trunk like emeralds, trailing from the tangled roots which made the ground ripple as they broke through to the air. The tree vibrated with life and magic, so much so that he expected it to move. Instead, it clung steadfastly to the ground.

  Bluebell made an odd, choked sound before she reverently whispered, “The World Tree.”

  “The what?”

  “The connection between all dimensions. The World Tree’s roots stretch from every single world where living things exist.”

  “Could we use it to get to your home then?” Jasper asked as he circled the great tree.

  “No, my dimension was destroyed a long time ago. Still, it is an honor to stand before such a powerful creature.”

  “Is it like us?”

  “Another thing entirely. The World Tree sees all but does not interfere. It is merely a guide for all of us to find our way.”

  Something like a god, then. Jasper made certain not to step on any of the exposed roots. Though he doubted the tree would mind if he made a mistake, it still felt like sacrilege to trod upon the ground this being rested on.

  A bird flitted through the air in front of him. It was tiny and brown, an insignificant looking bird. It did not want to leave him alone, flapping its wings until it was nearly still in the air before it began to circle above him. There was something so strange about this behavior that Jasper paused.

  He narrowed his eyes at it. “Do you want me to follow you?”

  The tiny bird dove towards him. Jasper raised his arms to protect his head, but was startled when the bird did not immediately make contact. Instead, it chirped very loudly in his ear and clipped the top of his head with a harsh whack.

  When he lowered his arms, it was in the air before him again.

  “I’m going to take that as a yes. A rude yes. You’re very small.”

  It chirped again, flapped its wings angrily, and whizzed past him to the other side of the tree. His brows furrowed. This place was a prison, lost to time and memory. But a bird knew the way to guide him.

  “I really don’t like this place,” he grumbled. “If I have to go into another dimension, I am going to lose my mind.”

  His quiet footsteps were muffled by moss as he carefully made his way around the trunk. The entire time, he prayed he wouldn’t round the corner and see a portal.

  Thankfully, there appeared to be nothing strange on the other side of the tree. The bird was circling above him again, but there were no warped edges to the air around it. No portal.

  He could be thankful for that, at least.

  “What did you want me to see?” he asked the tiny animal.

  Then he saw it — red splashes of color revealed between the gnarled roots. He never would have even noticed the bright autumnal colors if the bird wasn’t hovering above them frantically.

  Strange that there would be a spot of red in all this emerald. Narrowing his eyes, he carefully stepped forward. There was no way he could get to it without stepping on the roots.

  “Sorry.” He reached down to gently pat the nearest root. “I mean no
disrespect. I only wish to satisfy my curiosity.”

  Jasper flinched when the tree groaned. It was only the tree settling, he told himself, not that the World Tree was responding to his words. Dead trees could creak like old houses, but this tree was very much alive.

  “I’ll just...go ahead then,” he stammered as he walked upon the roots.

  He hadn’t realized how high the spot of color was until the forest floor disappeared beneath him. He climbed farther and farther until a drop to certain death made him begin to sweat. His boots slipped in the moss covered branches, forcing him to climb on hands and knees.

  At the top was a small plateau of roots, so tangled he couldn’t tell one from the next. Strands of the bright red were visible from between the gnarled wood. It resembled a bird’s nest of twigs and brightly colored ribbon.

  He lost his breath. That wasn’t fabric or leaves. It was hair. Long streams of red hair woven into the moss and roots.

  “Shit,” he said quietly. “I damn well know a tree isn’t growing hair. Bluebell, there’s a person in there.”

  “Prison,” Bluebell replied. “The Wisp said this was a prison.”

  “So all this was to keep whatever this tree is holding locked away?”

  “It would make sense. Jasper, I’m frightened of what it holds.”

  He patted himself on the shoulder. “I know. Me too.”

  There was no knowing what these roots held. He hoped it was a creature he could handle. Or, perhaps, one that would be grateful to be released.

  This was the creature he was meant to collect. This was what Malachi wanted. A bit of red buried beneath the earth.

  He hoped that this didn’t end up resulting in his untimely demise.

  “How do you think I get them off, Bluebell?”

  “Maybe ask?”

  It was worth a try. He leaned back on his haunches and placed his hands on his knees. “World Tree? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to release your prisoner.”

  He held his breath. Asking felt like it was too easy. But it wasn’t wrong to wish for something to be easy just this once.

  The tree did not budge.

  “Right.” He bit his lip. “Well, I made it all the way here for this thing you’re hiding. I hope you don’t mind me digging at you a little. You’ve got enough roots holding you down, I suspect a few branches won’t hurt.”

  “Jasper.”

  “Not now, Bluebell.”

  “Are you talking to the tree? I meant to ask the creature it holds to come out.” Her voice bubbled with giggles.

  He paused to cast his eyes towards the sky. The Fairy conveniently forgot she used to talk to trees on a regular basis, but he was the one being teased for just that. Arguing could come later. For now, he had to figure out how to get this thing out.

  The sinking feeling in his stomach suggested that there might be something bad coming. All others had some weakness exploited by this prison. He had not. Jasper figured it was bound to happen at some point, and he hated waiting for the inevitable.

  He scratched the back of his neck. Superstitions and gut feelings aside, this was definitely the center of the maze. Why he hadn’t been stopped was a question he could ask much later, from the comfort and safety of his hammock.

  “Bluebell, is there any way to cut through these branches and not harm the tree?”

  “Well, it’s just a tree. I’m sure it won’t mind if you gently break a few off.”

  “Even though it’s the World Tree?”

  “I can’t imagine it would mind all that much. The World Tree isn’t a prison. Likely, it doesn’t want whatever is caught in its branches.”

  What? “Bluebell, English please.”

  “It’s like a toothache,” she said, exasperated. “I’m sure it would rather have whatever is stuck in its teeth removed.”

  Now, that he could work with. If he thought that the World Tree would like what he did, then he would do it.

  Jasper reached down and grasped a few of the branches between the strands of hair. He was big enough that one powerful yank snapped the smallest limbs.

  A few more tugs and at least the hair was free, but some of the branches stubbornly stayed twisted around the fine tresses. Veins stood out on his arms as he threw his entire weight into a final pull. Breathing heavily, he looked down, and his heart stopped beating.

  It was a woman. Oh gods, it was a woman.

  She appeared to be sleeping. Or dead. Her face so still and serene he had no way of knowing which it was.

  The woman’s full, red lips were relaxed in a sweet bow. Her sun-tanned skin was impossible for someone so long buried, but seemed to compliment her aristocratic nose and heart shaped face. Her hair fanned out around her head like living flames, sparkling in the waning sunlight.

  “Oh,” Bluebell whispered. “She’s so beautiful.”

  He agreed. Wholeheartedly. Jasper had never seen a creature more beautiful in his life — including Lyra, whom he had put on a pedestal of gold. While Lyra was a dark thing made for shadows, this woman blazed like a beacon.

  Her body was encased in tangled branches and leaves, as though in a shallow grave. Jasper leaned back onto his heels and searched for an easier way to free her. The tree had grown around her body too tightly for him to continue ripping it.

  Unfortunately, no easy alternative was apparent. Hours of back breaking work laid out before him, and he didn’t know how much time he had. There had to be another nightmare waiting for him.

  “Any ideas?” he asked Bluebell. “Otherwise, we’re going to be here for a while.”

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  “I think she’s a little indisposed, don’t you?”

  “I think she’s waking up.”

  He could hardly be angry at the self important tone. The Fairy was right. He hadn’t heard it immediately, but once it was pointed out he could hear the woman’s slow exhale. It was a death rattle at first, a wheezing breath that spoke of plague and fire. Then it eased until he could barely hear her at all.

  Getting her out of the earthen prison was suddenly secondary to making certain she didn’t panic. He didn’t want her to lose her head when she realized a large, strange man was digging her out of a tree. What if she didn’t remember where she was?

  Jasper leaned forward and placed a hand against her cheek.

  “Breathe,” he murmured. “Take it one step at a time. Breathe in and out until you don’t have to think about it anymore.”

  As soon as he stopped talking, she opened her eyes, and he was the one who was breathless. She did not have yellow eyes, as humans often had these days. Nor were they red slashes of color, like Malachi’s. They contained all the colors of a vibrant sunset — pink, red, orange, splashes of heat and fire. Sunset eyes, he realized. He had never seen their likeness.

  She stared up at him, silent and calm. Not even a whimper slipped through her lips. Her unusual eyes locked upon his, questions darkening her gaze.

  “What are you?” he asked quietly. He had never seen such a creature of fire and flames.

  Before he received his answer, the world around them melted away along with her casket of branches and dirt. The three soldiers he had arrived with stood next to them. They appeared like ghosts, silent and immensely dangerous.

  He had only a few moments to notice the rune stone held in the Dragon’s hand. The glowing red mark sizzled with unnatural heat. A stone to return them, so it seemed. Malachi had played him once again. Jasper curled around the woman, shielding her with his body until a hard strike against his skull stole his consciousness.

  5

  Jasper groaned and rolled to his side, eyes stuck together from sleep. He wished he could wake up just once without his head throbbing with the beat of a drum. Maybe tomorrow morning.

  Days of sleep and an entire bottle of whiskey would have solved every problem he currently felt. But he could still feel the hard ground beneath him, meaning he was still locked away like a kenneled dog. />
  “Jasper? Are you awake?”

  The soft voice was familiar. The Unicorn. She shouldn’t be in this hellhole. He was starting to think he had lied to her. Perhaps he wouldn’t be able to get them out of this place after all.

  He could have teleported himself out of the maze at any time and would woken up — without the headache — rocking in his hammock. He felt the ground shift in mockery of his desire while Bluebell sang lullabies in his ear.

  He gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

  “Good. I have news.”

  Bluebell grumbled. “The Unicorn says something, and the man jumps into action, but the Fairy shouts and screams for hours, and she gets nothing.”

  He opened his bleary eyes and stared at Ella. She was kneeling as close to the iron bars as she could, gesturing for him to move closer.

  It proved to be more difficult than he anticipated. Exhaustion had turned his legs to rubber, and Jasper ended up dragging himself towards her. He slumped forward, breathing heavy. “What?”

  “You were returned to your cell by strange people I have never seen. A Dragon, a Hellhound, and a Wisp. Malachi said he was going to return soon. If you can convince one of them to provide us with a key—”

  “The ones I came back with are guards now?” he interrupted.

  “Yes.”

  “Then they aren’t going to give us a key.”

  She pulled back. “You can’t know that. Surely they have some heart—”

  “I am certain they will not,” he interrupted again. “They will not give us a key, Ella.”

  She started wringing her hands. “I have not lost hope that there is good in people. There must be some chance that they would pity us. They might help us escape if we but asked.”

  “I should have taken my chance when I had it. But I didn’t.”

  Jasper rolled onto his back and stared up at the dark ceiling. He didn’t know why he hadn’t left. It hadn’t been Bluebell wanting to stay. He rarely listened to her poor decisions. He had lingered because he wanted to, despite her claims that they needed to stay.

  “Why didn’t you take the chance?” Ella asked.