The Sword

by Jean Johnson

  In spite of her racing heart, in spite of the acknowledgment that he probably could literally turn her into a toad…Kelly found the stunned looks on all of their faces to be quite exhilarating. She took ruthless control of that fact, and the situation. Doyles didn’t waste a good tactical advantage, after all.

  “You see, I don’t need magic to beat the crap out of you…but you have to use it to equal me. You know what, Dominor?” she added, addressing the brother under her foot. “I like it, that this fact sticks in your throat—and to your face. The fact that I can make you eat dirt without having to use magic like some kind of crutch!

  “Oh, and I wouldn’t ever again threaten to turn me into anything I wasn’t meant by God and nature to be in the first place, mister,” she added sweetly, torquing his arm a little more, making him gasp. “You see, I would still be a woman inside of that toad shape you threatened to turn me into, and all the darkest powers of Hell have nothing on a woman who’s gotten good and mad at some stupid, idiotic man!” Another yank, and he grunted from the pain. “Now, are you going to shut up and obey me? Or shall I tie your body into knots with my otherworldly knowledge and extradimensional ways?”

  He muttered something.

  “Excuse me; what did you say?” Kelly asked, tweaking his arm a little more, though not quite to the point of dislocation. It got the results she wanted, more or less.

  “Truce!”

  “I didn’t hear a ‘please’; I specifically requested civilized words like please, remember?” she asked him mock-sweetly, as his brothers stared, not daring to interfere at the sight of the second most powerful of the brothers present at breakfast being pinned so helplessly to the floor.

  “Truce…please.”

  It was said through his teeth, but it was a please nonetheless. Kelly released him, stepped back, smoothed out her skirts, and hooked her chair back into place with a toe and a hand, as he scrambled to his feet. One brother down, the rest to go. She remained on her feet while the third-born of the brothers straightened his clothes, glaring at her.

  “Does anyone else care to challenge my status as a woman and therefore the keeper of civilization for the duration of my visit in this household? No? Excellent. Do not yell at me, do not threaten me, and do not treat me with anything less than the respect I am due, gentlemen, as your peer and your equal. Or I will redefine this universe’s version of the meaning of holy terror. As is my right, as a woman.”

  Reseating herself, she picked up the fork at her place setting.

  “Actually, I am quite easy to get along with, under most civilized circumstances. Treat me nicely, and I will do the same to you. It’s that simple.”

  “I still ought to turn you into a toad,” Dominor growled, but he reseated himself, dragging his chair back into place. Morganen watched him, but the third-eldest brother merely eyed the woman in their midst for a long moment. A sigh, and he spoke. Politely. “How did you manage to pin me down like that? You barely weigh half of what I do!”

  “Like I said, it’s my otherworldly way. Should you be unkind or uncivil to me again, I would be delighted to demonstrate both that and several other painful techniques on your various extremities,” Kelly offered smoothly, mock-sweetly. “But only if you act impolitely.”

  Dominor stared at her a moment more, then looked elsewhere. “Thank Kata she’s not my Fate…”

  The green-eyed, coppery-haired brother choked on a laugh, caught in the middle of a sip of his juice. Since he was the next one seated around the table, Kelly focused on him, narrowing her eyes in warning. “Yes? You wished to introduce yourself, politely?”

  He coughed, and the male seated next to him, Evanor, whacked him helpfully on the back until the copper-haired man shoved his brother away. “Uh, yes. Please. And, uh, thank you—oh, and if you would be ever so kind…”

  Green eyes gleamed with humor at that last part, flashing with his quick, charming grin. Kelly rolled her own, not that impressed. “Your name, then, if you please?”

  “Trevan the Cat, fifth of the former family Corvis, now the family Nightfall…and it will be my pleasure to please you in any way you wish, my lady,” he added in a tone that was almost a purr. A seductive sound, actually…but not that seductive. Kelly had been hit on before in her life by suave, handsome men, and was as little impressed by this male’s efforts now as she had been back then. He was cute, but his manner was just a little too contrived for her tastes.

  “Uh-huh. Thank you for your kind and polite introduction,” Kelly allowed him with brief but unimpressed politeness of her own, then looked at Evanor. “I know you are named Evanor—”

  “Evanor the Song,” he agreed mildly, tucking a strand of his light blond hair behind one well-shaped ear.

  All of the brothers had straight noses, high cheekbones, firm jaws and foreheads, well-shaped brows, and small, perfect-for-nibbling sized ears…including the eldest brother. Stop thinking about the big lug, Kelly ordered herself, suppressing the urge to wince. Pay attention! These are your hosts for the next ungodly stretch of time.

  Evanor continued with a soft smile. “I am the younger twin of Dominor, and the fourth Son of Destiny. If you have need of my aid, my lady, you need only sing out my name—sing it, not just speak it—and I will hear it and reply, wherever I am on the island.”

  Kelly eyed him at that admission. “That sounds like a rather neat trick.”

  He gave her a wry smile, dipping his blond head in a slight, seated bow. “I am something of the household herald in that regard. But then sound and song are my domain, as they have always been. I have no objections to helping you clean up the castle, for that matter. If you will lend your experience as a woman in directing us what should be tackled first in this pile of age-grimed stone, that is. I simply could not do it all on my own and freely admit I saw no need for any real effort to do so, save occasionally in the main rooms, when it was just my brothers and I who occupied this place.

  “Now that we have a woman in the place…I confess I’m a little ashamed at our housekeeping skills,” Evanor admitted with more grace than his brothers seemed comfortable at hearing. “We have indeed degenerated from being truly civilized in the last three years, I’m afraid. So feel free to tell me what to do, and I’ll make them do it, too. What would you recommend?”

  “Dusting, cobwebs, and floors,” Kelly recited immediately. “The kitchen and this table need to be scrubbed spotless, all the ‘refreshing rooms,’ as you call them, need to be scrubbed bottom to top, then tapestries, windows, and the surfaces of anything that isn’t a floor. Bedding needs to be laundered, cushions beaten free of dust, and their covers washed. Every piece of splintering wood will have to be sanded and smoothed, all the curtains washed and mended or replaced, all of the sticking doors and stiff windows need to be planed so that they work smoothly, the hinges and handles oiled, and all the furniture polished.

  “Plus the courtyards need to be weeded, paving stones as well as garden beds, the overgrown grass lawns cropped and neatened, the bushes and vines cut back to something less than a jungle state—as you can see, there are obviously many things to be done to make this place livable, and hopefully enjoyable.”

  “And you think we will do these things for you willingly?” Dominor groused from his seat beside her.

  “I have already made impressive headway on the rather grimy room your eldest brother stuffed me into,” Kelly pointed out. “And, I might remind you, I don’t have magic to speed my efforts in each task. You have all been living far too long as bachelors, and it more than shows.” He didn’t look convinced, and the others looked reluctant at best. She drew in a breath and smiled through her teeth. “Let me put it this way…if I have to stay for five more months before Morganen here can send me safely home, which do you think would be better, a couple weeks of cleaning, with your cooperation, or five whole months of me carping incessantly about how much the castle still needs cleaning?

  “Hmm? No countering comments? I see you’re finally
showing some degree of wisdom. All right, who’s next?” she added firmly, looking at the young man with the darker auburn hair than Trevan’s copper-strawberry locks. The auburn-haired one introduced himself as soon as her gaze fell on him.

  “I’m Koranen, Morganen’s slightly elder twin. Nicknamed the Flame,” he added in the same ritualistic introduction the others had started. “Seventh of the family, and obviously associated with all forms of magic involving fire, whether directly or indirectly—I was the one who healed your burns when you first arrived. You were badly burned in several places, especially on your lower legs, but I could reverse all of it; the few remaining pink spots on your skin should fade within a couple more days, if you were worried about the marks lingering.”

  Kelly shook her head. “I’m simply glad to be alive and in one piece. Pink spots aren’t a major concern. Thank you, by the way. That was very kind and compassionate of you. Now, you are Morganen—”

  “The Mage,” he agreed, smiling at her. “Strongest of all eight of us, magic-wise, though I’m the youngest in age. After seeing you make my brother there, ‘eat dirt,’ as you put it, I hereby adamantly refuse to turn you into a toad. Or to allow anyone else to turn you into one,” he added, eyeing his older brothers pointedly before returning his gaze to Kelly’s. “That looked rather…uncomfortable, what you did just now to Dom. I’d rather not test my arcane powers versus your extradimensional ones, firsthand.”

  “It was meant to be uncomfortable.” She glanced sideways at the glowering Dominor, catching his scowl. “That is precisely what I mean, gentlemen. You have lived way too long without having to deal with women in your lives. Most of us prefer respect and courtesy over threats and bullyings. Keep that in mind for whenever this stupid exile of yours finally ends.

  “There’s enough similarity between your world and mine to know that the rest of this world isn’t going to take kindly to arrogant bullies of men, should you ever leave this isle. Or have more visitors dropping by.” She looked to her right, across the empty seat on that side, at the only one left. “I know that Rydan is the one who shuns the light, and I’ve more than met Saber already. So you must be…?”

  “Wolfer,” the brother with the biggest body, height, breadth, and muscles, introduced himself on a rumble.

  His hair was brown, somewhere between the dark brown of Dominor’s and the light brown of Morganen’s, with an unruly wave to it that made it even thicker than the others’ hair, save for Trevan’s thick, sun-streaked strawberry waves. He had amber gold eyes and looked like the wolf his name echoed. He even gave her a wolfish smile, confirming it in his deep voice as he played with the thin, braided bracelet looping his left wrist, gently touching what looked like a plait of hair, of all things.

  The last of the brothers to be introduced, he added, “The Wolf. Saber’s twin. And I think you just might be a match for him, Lady Kelly.” His gold eyes gleamed briefly with humor. “Certainly it is interesting to listen to you try.”

  She narrowed her aqua eyes. “Are you trying to matchmake us? Because I have had my fill of that arrogant, bullying, pigheaded, confusing, yelling—let’s just not talk about him, shall we?” she asserted, breaking off that topic to keep her temper cool and her thoughts from getting lost in a whirl of confusion over the irritating, too damned attractive, and way too grumpy missing man. “Morganen informs me it will be five months or so before he can send me back to my universe. Seeing as how I’m the only woman on the island, that means we’re going to have to go over a few ground rules for the duration of my stay.”

  “Rules?” Dominor asked, arching one dark brown brow. “What have you been spouting until now, if not rules?”

  She cleared her mouth with a sip of juice. “First of all, I’m not interested in hopping into bed with any of you—that includes you, Trevan, so you can turn off the charm; I’m not impressed by it. Any attempt from anyone to rape me,” she added bluntly, blandly, “and I will cut off the offending organ, stick it in a jar, and keep it on a shelf somewhere in that lovely chamber over this hall that I presume will be my quarters for the duration of my stay. I might even take it with me when I go back home. That’s rule number one.”

  Evanor choked on his juice, as she said that. Wolfer choked on a piece of jam-smeared bread. The others all blinked. Coughing, Evanor recovered first. “Lady, I assure you that rape is the farthest thing from our minds. The very shades of our mother and father would rise up from their graves and do the exact same thing to us, for you!”

  “Well, then I needn’t have to repeat myself on the matter,” she stated primly…a little unsure if he meant literally or just figuratively in this magic-soaked realm.

  She debated asking for a moment, then shook it off. Glowing lightballs, translation potions, and chalk-drawn invisible walls keeping out hideous mekha-gobblies were enough for her to deal with at the moment. Parental ghosts rising vengefully from the grave would be a bit too much to handle.

  “The next rule is no one locks me in my room. Or in a dungeon, or in chains, or in any other way. I don’t like that.”

  “You’ll have to argue with Saber on that one,” Koranen pointed out. “But none of the rest of us will bother. Right?”

  “Speak for yourself,” Dominor muttered.

  Kelly whapped his arm with the back of her hand, and he glared at her. He did, however, look away when she pointedly arched her brow and glanced at the floor. Instead of repeating himself, he muttered something under his breath about turning her fingers into flimsy feathers.

  Ignoring his grumbling, Kelly continued. “The third rule is, I don’t take charity. So if any of you have clothing in need of mending, or refitting, or wish for the addition of embroidery or trim, I will sew it for you in exchange for my room and board.

  “And if someone is willing to show me how to cook some of these foods, half of which I admit are rather unfamiliar to me, I might be willing to help—just help, not do it all by myself—with some of the cooking chores, and of course with my share of the cleaning ones. I’d help in the garden, but I’ve seen too many plants I’m not familiar with, and I wouldn’t be able to tell a weed from a prizewinning whatchamacallit, so it’s indoor work for me for right now. Now, rule number four is—”

  “Kelly! Kelleeeey!!” Footsteps echoed from overhead, pounding into the hall. “Evanor, she’s gone missing!” A body high overhead, on the topmost of the three tall balcony tiers, had flung itself half over the railing to shout down at them. Saber froze at the sight of her. “You!”

  “Rule four,” Kelly emphasized, rolling her eyes, “is that I don’t like people yelling at me all the time!” she asserted, raising her voice and her head briefly to holler up at the yeller in question. “If you don’t have a damned good reason, you will keep your voices quiet!—I’m certain your mother explained to all of you the vast difference, long ago, between an ‘indoor’ voice, and an ‘outdoor’ voice?” she added, dropping her tone once more into a normal, mock-sweet one, as that dark blond head disappeared from above them, bringing the sound of racing feet again. “So unless you’re warning me of a danger to myself, or trying to get my attention across a long distance for an important reason, please refrain from shouting at me.

  “I can be quite reasonable when treated in a reasonable way,” she continued, “but not if I am yelled at constantly. It makes my redheaded temper get all mean and nasty. Rule number five is that I reserve the right to make up more rules as we go along, in case any more might be necessary. Now, I’ve actually managed to hold my temper in check quite admirably, at least so far today, despite being trapped in my room and denied any food until now. Can you all handle all of that, or do I have to get really mean and nasty?”

  She got a more or less unanimous collection of nods and murmured agreements. Trevan spoke for the rest as he stood and started clearing the table. “I think so, Lady Kelly…so long as you realize none of us speaks for Saber or Rydan. I can say with fair certainty my twin, Rydan, will more or less behave around
you for the few moments his hours coincide with yours, providing you leave him alone the rest of the time and do not attempt to enter his domain…but none of us speak for Saber. Right, Wolfer?”

  The largest man at the table raised his hands defensively. “This is his Destiny, not mine! I admit I am generally of the same mind as Dominor,” he added, glancing at her as his fingertips touched the braid looped around his left wrist, caressing it with a feathery gentleness that seemed almost strange in this largest and most physically powerful of all of the brothers. Kelly wondered briefly what it meant to him, but he spoke again, recapturing her attention. “I am not much inclined to follow another, woman or man. We only tolerate our brother leading us, because he is the eldest, and the head of our family. And I tolerate Morganen’s occasional fits of temper, as I respect his power. But I am my own man, most of the time. I am the Wolf, after all.”

  “Then think of me as the alpha female of this pack, since you’re so wolf-oriented,” Kelly pointed out firmly as Koranen stood and started helping his brother. “I am the only female, admittedly, but even if I weren’t, I can and will be the toughest bitch around.”

  Wolfer grunted and picked up his mug, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her suggestion.

  Dominor frowned at her. “How old are you, anyway?”

  “Twenty-seven. I’m also used to being in charge of my life,” she added. “It’s the only way a Doyle survives.”

  “Survives what?” Saber demanded, scowling and striding into the main hall in time to catch her last words.

  “The disasters in life,” Kelly returned without thinking. All of them stilled a heartbeat, including her.

  “That’s it!” Trevan exclaimed, balancing his stack of plates in one hand so he could point with the other. “She’s the Disaster! Gods know no one of Katan will help us to survive her, so obviously it’s up to us to do it on our own!”