Beyond his Ruby Trance, the enhanced casting state that allowed him to use ruby essence more efficiently and for more powerful spells, was Ruby Ascension. Hal had never made it to that stage, and for that matter, neither had Cadrian. It was a step beyond a Ruby Trance, both in raw power and emotional influence, from what she’d told him. And it would be dangerous for him to attempt on his own, outside of a controlled training session.
Laurel was looking at him strangely. Hal cleared his throat and took another sip of his wine. The vegetable stew on the fire began to boil over, and Laurel made a surprised noise and hurried to take care of it. A minute later, they each had a bowl of stew, bread, and a thick venison steak in front of them.
“Oh, this is perfect,” said Hal. “I feel like we should give thanks to the Matron and the Five for food like this.”
“You’re not a believer,” said Laurel. “It would just be silly.”
Hal winked at her, and Laurel sighed and shook her head. They both dug into their food, eating in silence for a while. As the meal neared its end, Laurel spoke up again.
“I heard back from Precia yesterday,” she said. “She sent one of those courier birds that are becoming popular amongst the nobles in the cities.”
“You did?” asked Hal. “What did she have to say?”
“She wanted to know if it was alright for her to come by for a visit,” said Laurel.
She looked at him questioningly, and Hal nodded.
“Sure,” he said. “I know she’s your close friend.”
“You’d have to… pretend again,” said Laurel. “To be my servant. Or bodyguard. So that she doesn’t get suspicious about us living together like this. Like everyone constantly does.”
Hal gave a small shrug.
“I don’t mind,” he said.
Laurel was staring at him with that intense look in her eyes again. She stayed quiet for long enough for an awkward tension to rest within the room.
“You’re good at pretending, aren’t you?” she said. “Playing roles… and getting other people to join in.”
Hal frowned, unsure of how to respond.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
Laurel sighed and shook her head. Her lips turned up into a weary smile, and one of her fingers rubbed up the length on the scar on her face.
It was Hal’s turn to bring the dishes out to wash them, and he brought a set of dirty clothes out to wash at the same time. Laurel hadn’t said much to him after their last, odd conversation over dinner, and it was still stuck in his head.
What role am I playing? She meant something by that. I wish she’d just come out and say what it was…
He found himself wondering if she’d put her brother, Willum, through the same kind of trouble back when the two of them had lived in the cabin together. He pushed the thought aside as he continued with his washing, scrubbing at a few stubborn stains that had worked their way into a pair of his trousers.
Hal hung his clothes out on a length of cord that they’d tied between the cabin and the shed before heading back inside. The sitting room was dark, and Karnas was still asleep on the floor. The dragon would let them know if he wanted to go outside during the night, and never hesitated to wake them up with urgent groans and claw scrapes at their door.
He entered his room, stripped his clothes, and climbed into bed. Or, that was what he’d intended to do. His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness, but his hand brushed across Laurel’s body in his bed as he pulled back the sheets. And it didn’t feel like she was wearing clothes.
“Laurel…” said Hal. “You’re… in my bed.”
Laurel sat up, reaching for the blanket to cover herself, though it was too dark for him to see her, anyway.
“…Yes,” she said. “Hal. I’m in your bed.”
She said the words slowly, like she was admitting a long kept secret. Hal felt the sudden weight of her emotions crashing down on him, and he didn’t know what to do with them.
Is this because of the emotional effects training she did with her ruby today? Or is this… something else?
He cared for Laurel more than he’d let himself care for anyone in a long time. She’d helped him recover. She’d given him a home, and new purpose in life. She wasn’t just a girl, living on a homestead alone. She was Laurel. She was so much more than that to him.
Hal was afraid of losing her. He hadn’t realized it on a conscious level until that moment, but it terrified him. It was a fear laced with real experience of how easy the lives of loved ones could be snuffed out. Hal was afraid of losing her, just like he’d lost Lilith. He wouldn’t let that happen, and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their current friendship, either.
He’d seen enough of Laurel’s life and responsibilities while in Meldence to know that even though she’d chosen to live in Fool’s Valley, on their backwoods homestead, she would still eventually marry some noble. And Hal would be happy for her, when it happened. He would have to be.
Seconds had passed, long enough for Laurel to understand his decision. She rose from his bed, wrapped in a loose sheet, and quickly pushed past him. She took a shaky breath as she reached the door.
“Laurel!” said Hal. “Hold on a second. Let’s talk.”
“No,” said Laurel. “I’m fine. I’m sorry.”
“Laurel…” Hal searched for the right words, but there weren’t any.
“I understand,” whispered Laurel. “It’s okay, Hal.”
He stood up and pulled his trousers on, hurrying after her. By the time he reached Laurel’s bedroom door, it was already locked. Hal slumped down to the floor against it, feeling his own heart breaking in reaction to the pain he knew he’d caused her.
CHAPTER 7
Hal sat outside on the porch, looking up at the clear night sky. It was cold, but he’d brought a bottle of apple wine with him and was drinking it fast. He tried to think of what he’d say to Laurel in the morning, and if there was any way for him to undo the damage he’d done. A part of him felt like it was unfair. He just wanted things to stay the same, for his life to have some measure of consistency again.
He was surprised when he saw a figure approaching on horseback, carrying a torch high overhead. He headed back inside to put on his shirt, boots, and belt, and kept a hand on his pistol as the visitor covered the last stretch.
“Halrin?” called Vrodas. “You’re still up?”
Hal let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s pretty late for you to be dropping by, unannounced. What’s going on?”
“Donnel’s gone missing,” said Vrodas. “Meridon sent me out looking for him when he didn’t come back from collecting cactus flowers. I found his bag… and there were signs of a struggle.”
Hal gritted his teeth.
“I’ll saddle up Toothy and head out with you,” he said.
Vrodas hopped down off his own horse.
“No need,” he said. “I saw a campsite on the way here. It’s no more than a short run from the edge of the valley, up against the cliffs. I didn’t want to confront whoever it was on my own, all things considered.”
Hal noticed the massive sword strapped across Vrodas’s back, and remembered how well the maug knew how to use it. He nodded his head, eager to help if he could, and just as eager for a distraction to take him away from his own thoughts.
“Let’s go,” he said. “There’s no point in wasting time.”
Vrodas left his horse in the homestead’s stable, and the two took off down the hill at a jog. It was a clear night, and between the stars and the light colored sand as they reached the desert, it was easy enough for them to see.
That means it will also be easy for us to be seen.
Vrodas had spoken true when he’d said that the campsite was nearby. They reached it after no more than a half hour of traveling, and it made Hal nervous to think of how close they were to the homestead. The two of them crept up to the top of a dune over
looking area to get a better view.
Hal’s anxiety began to grow as they drew closer, and he noticed several details that were off about the group.
There were seven of them in total, but they were smaller than normal, closer to the size of a young teenager than full grown adults. They wore tight, stretchy clothing of a style he’d never seen before, the colors bright and clean, except for one woman, who wore all black.
No, he realized. It wasn’t quite the truth. It was a similar style of clothing to what he’d seen on the headless man in the cave. Hal watched as one of them moved in closer to the fire and noted the man’s pointed ears.
“Elves,” whispered Hal.
He glanced over Vrodas and saw his friend’s posture stiffening and growing serious. Elves were uncommon enough in Krestia’s Cradle to be a thing of myth. Hal knew from his experiences with Zoria that they lived in their own separate homeland, the Upper Realm, a magical, floating province hidden by the clouds far above the eastern ocean.
The elves had two prisoners with them, and Hal had no doubt that Donnel was one of them, even if he couldn’t see their faces. The elves were relaxed around their fire, as though certain that there were no threats in the darkness of night that could possibly harm them.
Hal watched in disbelief as one of the men, who was stretched out on a blanket, gestured to one of the women. The woman was shorter than the others, and her tight clothing showed off a busty, curvaceous physique. She strode over to the man and pulled his pants down, paying almost no attention to the others there.
In full view of Hal, Vrodas, and her traveling companions, the woman began stroking the male elf’s shaft. The male elf said something that Hal couldn’t make out, and then the female elf lowered herself down, sheathing his erection inside her lane.
“Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?” whispered Vrodas.
“Apparently,” said Hal.
It was an erotic sight, but not because of anything the two elves engaged in coitus were doing. They seemed almost bored, the woman riding the man with slow, casual movements. The eroticism came from how open they were about it, as though sex was just another form of conversation, rather than something intimate.
The other elf woman, the one dressed in all black, stood up and approached the prisoners. Hal tore his attention away from the copulating duo to watch her. She took hold of one of them and pulled them into the light of the fire. It wasn’t Donnel, but that didn’t do much to dim his anxiety.
The elves were speaking to each other, talking about something. Hal reached down and drew his pistol, but Vrodas put a hand out, stopping him.
“Not yet,” said Vrodas. “If we wait, they might fall asleep. Or lower their guard further. We’re outnumbered. We need every advantage we can get.”
The elves had finished speaking, and the one dressed in black had taken out a strange staff studded with small crystals the color of coal. Hal watched in dumb amazement as she lifted it into the air over the prisoner she’d chosen before, letting it trace tiny circles.
The light from the fire seemed to fade around the staff, shrouding it in true darkness. Hal could see the woman’s expression, and it was cold and evil. She suddenly brought the base of the staff down hard, and Hal only realized that it had been sharpened to a point as it stabbed into the prisoner’s chest.
The prisoner screamed for only an instant before the breath was stolen from his lips. He convulsed, pinned to the sand by the black crystal staff. Around the fire, most of the elves continued going about their business. The two having sex even increased the pace of their intercourse, to Hal’s disgust.
The staff pulsed with black energy, pushing it down into the prisoner’s body. Hal watched as the poor man began to transform from a human into something grotesque. His skin darkened, loosening in places to hang in disgusting folds. His fingers elongated, and his jaw contorted as extra teeth poked out of gums to crowd into his mouth at odd angles.
She’s turning him into a husk. This… is what they’re here to do?
Hal glanced over at Vrodas, who nodded back to him. The two of them dropped to their stomachs and slid further down the dune, staying out of the fire’s illumination, but moving themselves within attack range.
“He’s a brute, isn’t he, Gardius?” commented one of the elves, in their native, eklid language. “I’m excited to see how he does.”
Hal could understand what they were saying, but only just barely. His elvish had gotten rusty in the time since he’d first learned it with Roth, his tutor back in the Collected Provinces. His strained his ears, focusing on the words as he listened to the black elf’s response.
“Yes, he will put on a fine show,” she said. “We chose well with that one.”
She reached into a small traveling bag and pulled out an odd-looking collar with a crystal set into the center of it. Hal recognized it immediately. He’d seen the same collar on the husk he’d killed in the cave the previous afternoon.
The husk was still pinned by the woman’s staff, and it remained docile as she put the collar around its neck. She nodded to one of the other elves once she’d finished, who pulled out a crystal the size of a fist and tapped a finger on its surface.
A scene rose up in the air above the crystal. Seven ghostly, bluish figures stood around a fireplace, two of them having sex. The husk was there, too, still on the ground. It was the mirror image of what was actually happening, rendered by magical outlines of everyone involved, and it was incredibly confusing for Hal to understand how or what could have created it.
The crystal… can project images?
The elf woman in black nodded after a couple of seconds.
“Good,” she said. “Tormalg. Take this one off and release it near the cabin we saw in the valley.”
One of the elves laughed. Hal gritted his teeth, his hand tightening around the hilt of his pistol.
“You are wonderfully wicked, Gardius,” said another elf. “I hope we make it back to Zelnata before we see that encounter come to fruition, just to see how the watchers react.”
Vrodas was shifting anxiously next to Hal. He didn’t speak eklid, and was probably even more confused by what was happening than Hal was. Gardius, the elf woman in black, walked over to where the other two remaining prisoners lay as another elf removed the black staff and began dragging the newly created husk off in the direction of Fool’s Valley.
Hal instantly recognized the new prisoner as Donnel. He had something stuffed in his mouth, and could do little more than grunt and groan to express his discomfort over what was happening. Hal drew his pistol and nodded to Vrodas.
CHAPTER 8
Hal initiated their sneak attack by using his pistol to fire a Flame Shot into the two elves that were still having sex on the sidelines. It was a bit of an underhanded tactic, but they were outnumbered, and he couldn’t count on the two elves to remain distracted. The spell knocked both of its targets apart, the fire immolating them and catching them completely off guard.
The elves let out surprised shouts as the campsite descended into chaos. Hal drew his sword, entering a Ruby Trance as he stepped into the illumination of the camp’s fire. The only elf who remained composed was Gardius, the one wielding the evil black staff. She smiled as she saw him, and then plunged the tip of the staff down into Donnel’s chest.
Vrodas let out a furious roar as he threw himself into battle with two male elves. Hal felt his own emotions surging, the rage welling up in his chest amplified by the Ruby Trance’s effect on his emotions. He saw red as he took aim with his pistol, channeling twice as much essence into his next Flame Shot and directing it at Gardius’s head.
He fired, and watched as his spell crossed the distance to the elf woman, and then ricocheted back toward him. He had enough time to notice that she’d pulled a strange, purple colored crystal off her belt to shield herself with before his own Flame Shot struck him in the chest.
Hal reacted with another spell, Flame Shield, which helped absorb the heat o
f the blast. The force of it was left unaffected, however, and he flew backward a few feet before hitting the sand hard, his pistol knocked loose from his hand.
“Surfacers attacking us?” said Gardius. “How interesting. And a sneak attack, at that. By the sky, I’m impressed.”
Vrodas had killed one of the male elves, but another one had managed to summon his magical, runic armor and weapon in time to stage a solid counter. The elf had cut a slash into Vrodas’s leg with a glowing, emerald colored, curved sword, and then disarmed him with a spinning block.
Hal rose back to his feet, drawing his short sword and approaching Gardius. He was still partially stunned from taking his own spell to the chest, and wasn’t ready for the elf as she conjured her weapon, a teal trident with prongs that stretched and moved independently of one another.
He attacked, swinging his sword in an overhead slash. Gardius caught his blade on her trident, and the prongs immediately wrapped around to hold it tight. She twisted with more strength than Hal had been expecting, and though he kept hold of his sword hilt, the motion threw him off balance.
A teal runic dagger appeared in Gardius’s off hand, and spun in closer, flashing an evil smile at Hal as she drew the weapon back for a stab. He had no choice but to abandon his sword, throwing himself backward into a roll across the sand to avoid the attack.
Hal snarled, his body tingling with fury and energy as he stood to his feet. He reached out for the flames of the nearby campfire, focusing his essence into another spell. He threw his hands forward, channeling the fire into Flame Blast, the spell creating a fireball the size of a skull that flew toward Gardius’s chest at high speed.
He’d been hoping to catch her off guard, but she reacted far quicker than he’d expected her to. Gardius let her runic dagger fade out of existence and pulled the purple crystal up to guard. She didn’t get it in place in time to reflect Hal’s attack back at him, but it bounced wide, flying up into the air and safely away from her.
“Impressive.” She frowned, thinking for a moment, and then spoke in common tongue. “You fight well for a surfacer.”
Dawning Ceremony (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 3) Page 4
