What Do You Say to a Naked Elf?

by Cheryl Sterling

  “The Earthling,” he said, his tone haughty.

  “Lord Vader,” Jane replied, raking her gaze over him. “I wondered when you would show.” She stood, removing his advantage. His height equaled her five-six.

  “You’ve led us on a merry chase. Where is your companion?”

  “I ditched him. He’s unnecessary. We can handle this between ourselves, mano y mano.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. Only her obligation to Charlie’s child kept her from collapsing.

  Blacwin unclasped his cape and threw it over a table. He flicked dust off his sleeves before raising a darkened gaze.

  “I agree,” he said. “Would you like a refreshment?”

  Yeah, how about some nice papaya juice? “Let’s finish this.”

  He inclined his head. “Very well. If you’ll follow me.”

  Heckle and Jeckle trailed behind them as they wound up and down stairs. The rooms grew larger and more opulent, showing the capital’s wealth and history.

  They stopped in a grand hall. A gallery ran around two walls, overlooking a massive table, chairs, and a fireplace big enough to burn sequoias. The ceiling lay high above, far from hundreds of candles illuminating the room. Magnificent windows showcased Lake Shallen, which glittered in the moonlight.

  “Grayson Hall,” Blacwin said. He moved toward one corner, where a fountain bubbled. “Owen’s Pool, one of the few places on Lowth where its power lies close to the surface.”

  What would happen when she stepped into it? Visions of a special-effects, Raiders of the Lost Ark melting-flesh horror assailed her. The elf blood in Jane ran faster; the tips of her ears tingled. She could feel Lowth’s power drawing her like a magnet. It scared her.

  “The reason I’m here,” she said, controlling her fear.

  “You’re an astute woman.”

  Astute? No. More like the wrong Earth elf in the wrong place. She took a shuddering breath. Maybe not. Lowth’s kept me alive so far.

  “What do we do now?” she asked. “Is there a big ceremony with days of preparation? Cakes to bake and floats to decorate?”

  “No.” Blacwin shook his head. “It’s fairly simple, but there are some who need to be here.”

  “Anybody I know?” Her heart pounded, and she fought to keep from running. The seconds counted down to an end she didn’t want to see.

  “As a matter of fact, yes.” Blacwin turned to a figure she hadn’t noticed, standing in the shadows. “My younger brother.”

  “Hello, Jane,” the man said, stepping into the light.

  Eagar!

  “Traitor!” she screamed in fury, and threw herself at the steward. She’d kill him quickly, before anyone could stop her. Forget torture and suffering; she’d cut his body into pieces and feed it to the rats. Right now he had to die!

  She gouged out a chunk of his face with her fingernails. Heckle and Jeckle pulled her off and threw her to the floor, holding her down.

  “Bastard,” she yelled, spitting and fighting to rise. “You knew all along. Damn spider, manipulating people into your web. I hate you!”

  “You’re so young,” Eagar said, wiping the blood from his cheek onto a handkerchief. “I admire your fire and passion, but you don’t know the complete facts.” He signaled the guards to haul Jane to her feet.

  “I know more than you think. You’ve been working with Blacwin the whole time.”

  “Of course. Loyalty runs strong in our family.” He turned to his brother. “Where’s the Whelphite?”

  “The dwarf was to take care of him,” Blacwin replied.

  Eagar nodded. “Good. We’ll need him here. Once they touch the essence of Owen’s Pool, Lowth will give us the answers.”

  “I’ll go,” Heckle said. At a nod from the wizard, he left.

  Your dwarf is dead, Jane thought, getting no satisfaction from it. Heckle’s departure didn’t cheer her, either. Her anger, burning hot a moment ago, fizzled with the reality of how few defenses she had against the wizard and steward. She couldn’t make it rain inside and doubted she had the strength to whip up a good whirlwind. Charlie’s death and Eagar’s appearance had hit her like a one-two punch.

  Oh, Charlie, how long can I be brave? Despair filled her.

  “Let’s get started,” Eagar said, curling his fingers around her arm.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Above Jane, deep in the shadows of the gallery, Charlie watched, his heart crushed by her obvious agony. Every nerve he possessed screamed at him to act, to swoop down and carry her to safety. But he had others to think of: the warrior woman Ashara and Jane’s brother Kevin. They weren’t in place yet to be effective in their planned coup.

  They’d burst into his cell as Dave the Dwarf attacked. Ashara engaged him in combat. A short, bloody skirmish followed, the elven warrior clearly at an advantage. Dave had been mortally wounded.

  Sweat from the aftereffects of the dalc cone beaded on Charlie’s brow. He wiped it away and scanned the hall, alert for his companions. They’d known each other for two hours, and already he trusted them with his life. Their appearance in Shallen surprised him. Kevin’s identity shocked him. Of all the rescuers he could imagine, Jane’s brother ranked at the bottom of his list.

  Where are they? One more minute and I’m going without them. They’d had plenty of time to get into position. Ashara moved like a cat; she’d be hard to spot. Kevin would be easier, as he didn’t seem the type for stealth.

  A slight movement gave away the man’s location. Charlie stood, anxious to get to Jane. Resolve flooded his veins like molten steel. Any weakness left from the drugs vanished at the challenge of battle.

  His wings fully outstretched, he stood on the gallery railing and signaled the others.

  Jane, he whispered, I’m on my way.

  Charlie? Jane’s knees buckled from shock. She grabbed Eagar’s arm for support as he yanked her toward Owen’s Pool. Her mind spun with hope and the awful realization that she’d finally lost it. Fear and hopelessness made her delusional.

  “Hold on a sec,” she told Eagar, her breath and heart rate uneven. She took a step away. Human sacrifice would have to wait.

  Damn it, Charlie, where are you?

  Eagar reached to grab her, but Jane pulled back.

  “Can you wait a minute?” she snapped. “Can you wait one freaking minute while I pull myself together? Jeez, you two.” Her gaze swept the room to her right. “You’ve got Jeckle to stop me if I try to run. What’s the big hurry?”

  Charlie, please come out and play.

  She heard him chuckle. Patience, my darling.

  Her heart lurched. It hadn’t been a hallucination. Charlie was alive! And he’d called her “darling.”

  Everything happened at once. Jane heard a twang and Jeckle dropped at her feet, a shaft in his throat. She turned to see Ashara in front of Blacwin, another arrow nocked. Then Kevin scooted into view, winking at her in passing. The least athletic, least macho of her brothers, he pointed a crossbow at Eagar.

  Want to fly? Charlie asked.

  The flap of his wings filled the hall. Jane looked up and saw him hovering above her, grinning widely.

  “Charlie!” she cried, reaching a hand in his direction.

  He landed and she ran to him, jumping into his arms. He kissed her, a Superman-should-have-kissed-Lois-this-way kiss. Jane felt it down to her toes.

  “Oh, Charlie, I thought you were dead.” A flood of emotions deluged her, fear and happiness, relief and an overwhelming urge to cry.

  “Dead?” He laughed, pushing her hair behind her ear with one finger. “Not a chance. I had to save you, didn’t I?”

  “Most magnificently. I love you, Charlie Whelphite.”

  “What a nice coincidence, because I love you, too, Jane.” He kissed her again, the rasp of his beard scratching her skin. He felt solid and warm, his wings enveloping them.

  Ashara cleared her throat, pulling them back to the drama in the room. “Want me to kill him now?” the warrior
asked, placing the tip of the arrow against the wizard’s throat. Blacwin flinched, his dark eyes murderous.

  “Enough killing for one day,” Charlie directed. He looked at Blacwin. “We’ve some negotiating to do.” To Eagar he said, “Why am I not surprised you’re in the middle of this?”

  The steward sniffed. He looked as unruffled as always. “You constantly misunderstand. What I do—”

  “I do for Lowth,” Charlie finished for him, disgust shading his face. “A warped sense of duty for the land you profess to love so much.” He pointed to the pool and Jane. “This isn’t right, it should never have happened.”

  He turned to Jane. “I’m going to get you away from here, then I’ll come back and clean up this mess.”

  Jane rebelled at the idea. Leaving him for one minute went against her better judgment. She’d just found him again. “I’m not going.”

  “Jane.”

  “Don’t ‘Jane’ me. I’ve been through hell the last few days. I’m not about to go away and open the possibility—”

  A loud clattering cut off her words. Kevin had dropped the crossbow, and he and Eagar scrambled on the floor for it. Charlie leapt into the fray. Suddenly, Heckle was there, returned from his errand. Damn! They should have watched for him. Jane screamed and jumped on his back, pounding on him, fighting for Charlie. From the corner of her eye, in the direction of Blacwin, Jane saw blue, wizard-like sparks fly.

  A fist hit her in the shoulder. She spun to the ground, one hand instinctively protecting her child. She landed hard.

  The scuffle lasted less than a minute. The dust cleared. Eagar, looking uncharacteristically rumpled, straightened and pulled a knife from his leg sheath. He pressed it to Kevin’s throat.

  “Kevin!” Jane screamed and lunged forward. Charlie stopped her, his grip fierce on her arm.

  “Know this young man?” Eagar asked, out of breath. Kevin had lost his hat, and his non-pointed ears clearly told of his race. “Another Earthling. Relative? Brother?”

  Jane’s heart climbed into her throat. Fear for her brother stopped its beating. Bravery died; she’d seen too much killing and wouldn’t risk Kevin’s life. She nodded.

  Eagar backed up a step, dragging Kevin with him. He gestured to Owen’s Pool. “Then I suggest if you want to stay related, you and Charlie get into the water.”

  So they’d be sacrificed after all. She glanced at Charlie. She could see his mind working, planning his next move, but with Ashara captive, Heckle plopped none too daintily on her, they had no choice.

  Jane gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. What could happen? A little dip in the pool, a piranha attack, acid eating at their bones? Just another day in paradise.

  She looked at the water, bubbling with an Old Faithful innocence. She reached out and took Charlie’s hand, squeezing it in encouragement. “Here goes nothing.”

  “Stop!” A commanding voice bellowed from behind her.

  She froze. Don’t ask me twice.

  “Enough!” the voice continued. It sounded strong, imperial, used to giving commands and having them obeyed.

  “By the two moons,” Charlie whispered in awe. He released her hand and sank to the floor. Eagar followed suit as well as Blacwin.

  What the heck?

  Jane turned—and stared into the intelligent black eyes of King Garmade of Malin.

  “Sir, sire, your grace,” Jane stammered. Oh, Lordy, she was making a mess of this. She gave up and sank into a curtsy so quickly she lost balance and landed on her rump.

  “Perhaps, it’s unnecessary for them to get wet, Eagar,” the monarch said. “It is enough they are here, where Lowth’s power is strongest.”

  Garmade leaned over her, his face kind and so different from the befuddled monarch she remembered.

  “Rise, young one,” he said, extending his hand. “No need to worry. You’ve had a long and tiring journey, and now is the time for your reward.” He pulled her to her feet without effort, his grip strong. When had he stopped shaking?

  Beyond awe, Jane allowed him to help her stand. The change in his appearance and demeanor shocked her. Not only did he act Sean-Connery-I’m-in-controlish, but he didn’t have on women’s clothes. In fact, he looked every inch the king, dressed in blue-and-white silk. He even wore a crown of diamonds.

  Jane, openmouthed, gaped at him, and Garmade motioned for the others to stand. As they did, she realized the room had filled with his entourage. She saw—bless him!—Muttle at the king’s elbow. King Tuniesin grinned at her, a dozen fairies surrounding him. Farther back, she spotted Hugh and the rest of their fellowship from Sylthia. John Tivat, the cheeky so-and-so, winked at her. Bryant and her mother smiled, so obviously in love, Marion a trifle pale, but looking well.

  “Pinch me.” Jane’s knees felt weak. “I need to sit down or I’m going to faint.” Where the heck had everyone come from, and how had they gotten here in the middle of the night? Muttle? She turned to the Belwaith, so pleased to see him healthy again.

  We fly, he said, astonished. The king comes by portal from Sylthia. He met us in the goblin camp. They are our friends! The Belwaith sounded shocked.

  Someone brought a chair and she sank into it. Her face hurt from smiling so much. She grinned at Garmade, who watched her like a benevolent, rich, very powerful, central-casting uncle. How about grandfather-in-law?

  Whoops! She’d almost forgotten that aspect. Wait until he found out. Jane searched for Charlie and took his hand in hers.

  “Okay,” she said, twisting her head to look at them. “Miss Marple’s assembled all the usual suspects in the drawing room. I’m guessing it was Colonel Mustard in the library with the red herring. Who wants to tell me what’s happening and why I feel I’m the last to know?” She directed her gaze to King Garmade.

  He sat next to her and indicated for the others to sit. Chairs scraped on the floor as the assemblage took their seats.

  “Because you are the last to know,” the monarch explained. “You and Charlie. We couldn’t have it any other way. Lowth’s tests had to be completed, and we needed confirmation of our choice. So much rested on your independent decisions.”

  “Independent?” Jane scoffed. “I don’t think so. We’ve been nudged toward this spot for weeks.”

  “Even before,” he said simply.

  Jane gasped. “Then you did send John to bring me here.” She searched and found Tivat. He shrugged, holding up his hands in a helpless motion.

  Garmade looked at Eagar, who stood next to him. God forbid he should sit. The steward surprised her by smiling. Yeesh, maybe the man did have a heart.

  “A wise choice, sire,” Eagar said. “Lowth is well served.”

  “Indeed.” Garmade stroked his chin. He lifted his gaze to Jane. “Yes, my dear, I sent John to Earth with the express purpose of discovering if Marion Drysdale, wife of Bryant of Malik, had borne a child. Bringing that child back here was important.”

  “You could have done it a little less violently,” Jane exclaimed, remembering the thunk, thunk Tivat had made when, à la bunny, he’d gone under her tires.

  “An unfortunate circumstance we used to our advantage.”

  “Yeah, by arresting me for murder and putting me on trial. You almost put me to death.” She wanted to brain the guy. Except he looked so regal, so much the ruler who’d defeated countless enemies in the past. His subjects had died following him into battle and, for the first time, Jane understood why.

  “It never came to that. We made certain of it.” Garmade included Eagar in his statement.

  “Hmmm. Very convenient for you.”

  “Very clever, too.” He all but clapped his hands in delight.

  Honestly, he was worse than a little kid. A toy soldier general, moving lives around on his own private battlefield.

  “What about Charlie?” Jane asked. “What’s his part in this?” Other than being your grandson. That’ll take the wind out of your sails.

  “Charlie is the other half of the key,” the king said.<
br />
  Some of this was starting to make sense. “Why not tell me all of it? From the beginning.”

  Garmade tented his fingers. “As Lowth became weaker under the Dymynsh, I sought answers. One was ‘The Quaven,’ an ancient poem, a riddle. The more I investigated—obsessed about it—the more convinced I became it was the only answer.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jane interrupted. “How old is this poem?”

  Garmade looked at Eagar. “Over a hundred years, I’d say. Yes, at least that.”

  “And you want me to believe something written that long ago prophesied me and Charlie?”

  He shrugged. “This is a land of magic, Jane.”

  “How long have you unraveled this mystery?” she asked.

  “At least ten years.”

  Astonishing, the amount of work that had gone into this.

  “Unbelievable,” she whispered.

  “Freaking unbelievable,” Charlie said in her ear.

  Her heart sang at his use of her verbiage. She loved this man, Elf, Whelphite, whatever, so much. Wait until she had him alone.

  “The most difficult part was finding ‘one on Earth,’ as the poem prophesied.” Garmade continued. “Then I found a reference to your mother’s visit to Lowth. The search became easier, tracking her and her offspring.”

  “Me.” Jane shook her head. “Back up a minute. When, exactly, did the Dymynsh start?” She wanted to visualize it on a timeline.

  The king and steward looked at each other. “As the records tell us, the harvests began decreasing twenty-five years ago,” Garmade answered.

  Twenty-five? A dozen pieces fell into place, completing the puzzle. Jane threw her head back and laughed.

  The others looked at her as if she’d gone hysterical.

  “Don’t you see?” she hiccupped when she could draw a breath. “While you were manipulating us, Lowth was manipulating you.”

  “I don’t understand,” the monarch said.

  “Neither did I, until a moment ago. Your majesty, does anyone know why the Dymynsh started?”