“But you demanded the gift back,” Nivel said.
“Tried bribery, everything.”
“Why did you not just take it back from her?”
“Because.” I shifted my weight. “Because I could not find the dagger — she hid the blade.”
His fist smacked against the stone floor. “It should matter not. Unless the right witch touches the blade, it should return to you.”
“And you neglected to tell me that before I left because?” I wanted to strangle him.
“No matter.” He stood with his face beaming. “Your finding the witch is enough for now to stay your execution. Need to verify with the prophecies — have Jaris release you to help,” he murmured as he paced toward the stairs.
At his words, I couldn’t breathe. Darkness from the shadows clutched my soul.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Guards ordered me to move back while they opened the door to remove my father. As they gathered up his body, they watched me like I was some animal waiting to strike down another victim. At their departure, the door clanked shut.
Coldness seeped into my bones, having nothing to do with my surroundings, but everything to do with Celeste.
I had to kill her. Why did she have to die? She was an innocent. More so than I was.
The guards whispered, arguing that our people would be better at my death. Nearly did I call out to them to annihilate me. But this was a selfish reason. In death I’d not have to kill her.
Another change of the guards before Nivel rushed down the stairs with Jaris poised at the top. “The council agrees, you’ve not failed them.” He nodded toward Jaris. “So the situation is rectified, I’ve been ordered to travel with you to finish the purifying.” His robes flew behind him as he ran to my cell.
“Release him into Nivel’s care,” Jaris shouted from the top of the stairs, then turned and left.
“Now,” Nivel said shaking the bars on my cell, “we don’t have time for formalities.”
A released prisoner was read their rights before the council. Stricter rules to obey otherwise they would end up back in the dungeons or worse.
With a sigh, one of the guards moved forward. Keys rattled against his tunic. He shoved a key into the lock. The lock sprung open and I grabbed my boots. I should have been overjoyed of this second chance. However, hollowness filled me.
“We’ve horses,” Nivel gestured me forward talking faster than normal, “don’t stand there. Put on your boots and let’s go. Everything’s packed.”
Slid my boots on. Then I chased after him up the stairs. Guards positioned down the hallway to the outside door. Obviously the council wanted no chances of my seeking out revenge upon them.
Ahead of me I saw the flurry of Nivel’s robes as he dashed through the door and then outside. I must not think of Celeste. My heart must be carved of stone with my quest etched across.
My pace quickened until I met him at the horses. Good stock. Both horses were gray with white spots. Even looked as though they’d give Shadowdancer a good sprint. “Where?”
Already Nivel was mounted. “I had them brought here a month after you left. Figured I’d amuse the little ones with them.”
I hurried into the empty saddle and turned back to him questioningly. Once again I felt as though there was more than he was saying.
“Not to worry, prophecies are written in here,” he said tapping the side of his head. “Fed the horses healing herbs.”
“Healing herbs?” My horse beneath me skirted to the left, but I brought her back.
“For the journey. Protection and speed.” He smiled, and then his horse soared down the hill.
I clicked my tongue, and my horse sprung forward after him.
• • •
Hours later we stopped. To rest the horses, and to quiet Nivel’s rumbling stomach.
He pulled out pieces of flat bread. Instead of asking if I wanted some, since he must know I could not, he ate in silence.
In the coldness of the night, I held my cloak tighter. Seeing my chill, Nivel started a fire.
When the fire brought warmth to us, he leaned back. “By now, we should have warmer weather. Spring.”
I nodded at his observation.
“Winter forever and our land dies. We die. Bad enough this disease is spreading through the land.”
“It was this disease in mankind’s forest where I was cursed.”
“Aye.” He drank a sip from his waterskin. “How many coins of mine do you have left? I’d like to eat a good meal at the next town.”
With a swallow, I answered him, “I gave the pouch and two coppers to Celeste before she disappeared.”
He scowled.
No longer could I meet his eyes. I dug through my pack when the medallion rolled across the dirt between us.
“What’s this?” In his palm he fingered the engraved medallion of the woman with a fishtail.
“Just a metal piece.”
His eyebrow rose as he fingered the image.
“A village, don’t remember which one now gave it to me. Their men traveled after a dragon for vengeance. One of the men, a villager’s son has a duplicate.”
“Strange. Thought you’d have sold this.”
“I gave my word. If I find his son, I’ll return the medallion to him.”
He smiled and handed me another coin pouch from his robes. “Thought you’d need more coins.”
I placed the medallion inside the pouch and stuffed it into my boot.
“So, tell me where you saw this Celeste last?” He took another swig of water from the waterskin. “Any idea where she would have gone?”
“The Warloc.”
He dropped the waterskin. Water poured across his cloak. And he snatched the skin back up. “Warloc? Why would she go there?”
“Don’t know. Just a feeling I have. Or more than likely he took her.” The fire popped. “He told me she was to be his at Beltane. That’s just a week from now.”
“We must find her. According to the prophecies, only you’re the one to spill her blood. Anyone else, and we are lost.”
“Why did she have to get involved with a Warloc? I’d rather just deal with her and get this over with.”
“My boy, you’ve been fighting this Warloc from the beginning.”
My disbelief must have radiated across the firelight.
“In the woods, where the blight was. How do you think it got there in the first place?”
Sweat trickled down my back. I’d hoped since Nivel was with me, he could kill her. My hands clenched at the thought. Owls hooted in the distance.
“Got to catch my sleep, my boy.” He shifted until he lay down upon a patch of dry ground. “Some of us can’t live without it.”
I watched Nivel as he slept. At first light we’d start again. Towards the Warloc’s lair, of which I did not know the location. Forced my mind to think of Celeste as a villain to eliminate. But my heart, filled with the memory of her kiss, eluded reasoning.
• • •
Since I knew where Father Morgan was, we rode to his village first.
No worries of other villages crossed our minds. We traveled through them at night, and rested in the forest until midday.
Four days on horseback, stopping for Nivel to rest, chafed my backside. Who knows what the Warloc did with Celeste. If we were too late because of Nivel’s dawdling, I’d strangle the life essence from him.
Outside the village, Nivel tugged up the hood of his cloak. “No surprises.” He motioned me to tug my hood up as well. “Keep your head down. Let me speak with this Head Priest.”
I obeyed and followed behind him to play the part of the dutiful son. He wrapped his hand in bandages, but didn’t offer me any explanation as to why.
At the tower, he glanced back at me and I nodded so he would know this where we’d find Father Morgan.
Drawing rein, he stopped his horse and let her nibble at a clump of yellowed grass. I copied his movements.
My eyes s
earch for threat. “Should we tie the horses?”
“Nay.” He placed a finger along each horse’s mane in turn. “They’ll not stray, or allow another to touch them.”
I followed him to the oak door at the base of the tower. If any of them recognized me, I’d be in for a battle with all of them. I chuckled, thinking maybe a few would flee when they saw me. Nivel glared at me, then rapped on the door.
After a long pause, the door swung open. A monk stood before us. Underneath my lashes, I saw his eyebrows were furrowed and his ruddy face seasoned with sweat.
“We’ve come a long distance, and heard of the great works of Father Morgan.” Nivel smiled down at the monk. “My son and I wish to meet with the legend.”
“Nay.” The monk’s lower lip dribbled saliva and sweat. “Don’t take tours. Be about your business elsewhere.”
“If I may,” Nivel said sticking his boot in the closing door, “we deem Father Morgan as the spokesman of God. Should we donate our charity to the other village who welcomes weary travelers?” His hand clinked on a coin bag.
At the monk’s frown, Nivel opened the pouch. Gold coins winked in the sunlight.
“I did not recognize a patron of Fa — er the Church’s work.” He bowed his head. The door opened. “Come in.”
Nivel pushed past the monk. I entered the tower behind him.
“Come with me.” The monk pressed up the winding stairs.
My eyes darted to the door at the top of the stairs. The door I came through last time I ascended these stairs. Two flights up, however, we came to another door. With a cough, the monk knocked twice, then entered.
“Forgive the intrusion, Father, but we’ve benefactors who wish to speak with you.”
Fire crackled in a stone fireplace. Across the room lay a heap on a wooden bed. Carved cherubs smiled down at the slumbering form.
“Lean me up,” his command from the bed was followed by a gurgling sound.
The monk rushed to the bed and wrestled with the figure lying there. Stench of rotted meat flooded the room. And I realized with dread the smell came from the bed.
Father Morgan propped up against pillows stared at us. Fearing he recognized me, my gaze lowered down to the floor.
“Father Morgan.” Nivel swept forward as though being reunited with a relative. At the edge of the bed, he kneeled. “Accept this as a token of your followers throughout the land.” He handed him the leather pouch filled with gold coins.
At an exhalation the gurgling sounded once again. “And you are?”
“Viscount Arlmond of Ermania.” He dipped his head into a bow. “I have heard of your fame and teachings from boyhood.”
“Let me see you face.” His eyes narrowed. “Take down your hood.”
Nivel paused.
Father Morgan leaned forward his hand about to snatch at Nivel’s hood.
The monk stepped forward as though to pounce and save his master.
“Don’t get too close. I have the beginnings of leprosy.” Nivel waved his bandaged fingers in the air.
They had a reason to be anxious. A mere wisp of a girl had almost killed their leader. The corners of my mouth twitched.
Nivel removed his hood, his silver hair concealing his ears. “I must speak to you, privately, of my son’s service to you and the church. All of my possessions are to be sold and the profits sent to your great work.”
Father Morgan waved a hand. With a huff, the monk turned and left us alone. Behind us, the door clicked shut.
“Now, let us discuss our business.” Nivel flipped his hand and a knife appeared.
Morgan’s eyes widened at the blade gleaming in the firelight.
“If you’ve no wish to lose the breathing of your last good lung,” Nivel said, pressing the blade against the priest’s chest, “then tell me where the Warloc lives.”
“I — I know of no Warloc. You speak of riddles and witches. Death meets all those who cross my path.”
“Except a Celeste, who gave you your wound.” I stepped forward and drew satisfaction from Father Morgan’s in drawn breath. “A wound caused from her magic that never heals.”
Father Morgan’s gurgles transformed into coughing as he pushed himself back into the pillows.
“Now, I’ve methods to heal you, if you tell us where we find this Warloc.” Nivel said.
“I do not converse with the devil or his spawn.”
“The Warloc referred to you by name,” I chimed in.
He spat at me, but Nivel twisted the knife. Blood trickled down the linen sheets.
“What can you do that he could not do worse?” Father Morgan asked.
“Don’t you know? He cannot remove the taint of the magic which eats away at your insides.” Nivel smiled. “But I can end your torment and free you of your service to the Warloc.”
Father Morgan’s eyes blinked back tears.
“Just tell us the truth. All will be well concerning you.”
“Damn witch, I should’ve killed her when I found her, despite her young age.”
“Why did you shelter her?” The words tumbled from my mouth. In truth, I wanted to gut him with my sword for his words and what he had done to Celeste. But was I any better?
“He told me,” he said in a wet wheeze, “she must be pure. Not to look upon him until the Beltane when she turned eighteen.” He pressed against the headboard as Nivel leaned in. At both corners of the headboard I noticed cherub heads pointed their gaze down at him. “I swear, he promised to make me priest over the entire world if I served him.”
“Where were you to send the girl for Beltane?”
“Through the mountains in the east. Bramad. He lives at the peak.”
“You have answered truthfully?” Nivel questioned waving the knife before him. “My cure will not work unless you have done so.”
“Aye — Aye.”
“There is nothing else you have not told me?”
His head rustled against a pillow as he shook his denial. Saliva and blood coated his mouth.
“Very well, the cure I offer you is death.” He plunged the knife into Father Morgan’s body.
A groan sounded, then nothing.
“What have you done?” I snatched his sleeve.
The man’s eyes glazed over, staring at one of the cherub faces. I dropped my hand.
“As soon as we left, if not before, he’d tell the Warloc of us.” He wiped the blade on Father Morgan’s sheets, then closed the man’s eyes. Tugged up the covers to hide the blood. “Don’t need things to fall through when we’re so close.”
“What about the others?” I tucked my hair behind one of my ears. “They will know we are not human.”
“None will recognize you, or me. Just keep your hair and head down.” He replaced the blade in his robes. “They will be too concerned with me and our money to pay you much mind.”
His reasoning sent shudders down my spine. And I thought again for the hundredth time there was something different about Nivel than a common elder.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nivel strolled through the church tower. Even hummed an Elvin tune, for which I glared at him.
Any moment these humans would discover their leader dead and pounce upon us. I’d rather not fight our way out of here.
Dust and dirt caked the stone walls. Voices echoed through the corridors. I followed Nivel as he made a right turn.
We were steps from the door to freedom, when the monk who escorted us blocked our path. “You two weren’t leaving already?”
Surely, he checked on Father Morgan and knew the truth. I moved my hand to my sword.
“Alas, I must set my affairs in order according to Father Morgan’s blessings.” Nivel bowed his head and the monk pushed passed him to the stairs. “And, I’d not bother Father Morgan just yet.”
“Why?” The monk turned at the base of the stairs. His hands gripped his robes like he only waited to hear Nivel before he bolted up to his master.
“He sleeps. Best not t
o disturb him.”
The man grimaced, but nodded.
“Well, good day.” Nivel swept forward with his hand upon the door.
“Wait,” the monk said and stepped between us, “join us for the noon day meal. Then you may be on your way.”
I was already shaking my head no, but Nivel smiled.
“We’d be delighted.”
• • •
Inside the dining chamber, my stomach simmered, queasy as though I swallowed a mound of spiders.
Before us, steam rolled off the baked bread in waves, stewed lamb with onions and celery lined the table.
Scattered around the table, monks of various ages ate. They watched with curiosity as Nivel gorged upon the meal.
Even if I could eat, the sight of Father Morgan’s dead body would dissolve any appetite I may have had.
“We enjoy visitors,” a young monk across the table said. His voice betraying him that he would soon become a man. “What brings you here?”
But Nivel answered with smile and a mouthful of food.
“Viscount Arlmond of Ermania and his son,” the ruddy monk wiped his sweaty brow and answered for us. “Came to pay tribute to Father Morgan. Viscount suffers from leprosy.”
At this news, the other monks whispered.
I stared at the food on the wooden trencher in front of me. What if they noticed I did not eat?
Out of the corner of my eye, Nivel’s hand snatched the two loaves of bread and placed them in my hands. I glanced at him in question, but he unfurled his robe.
Then he leaned forward as one of the monks spoke of Father Morgan’s vision of a cleansed earth, and Nivel revealed a flattened pouch tied to his belt. Understanding, I stuffed the slices of bread into the empty pouch.
With a sweeping laugh at one of the monk’s jokes, Nivel swiveled his bench and knocked both himself and the bench over.
Monks on either side of us rushed to his aid. “Everything all right?”
“Aye — aye.” Nivel dusted off his robes, his hood still hiding his Elvin ears.
The Garnet Dagger Page 13
