“Veiarnna te Maghrendaa!” Crane cried out in a booming voice, pointing at the crate with his open hand. A lance of rainbow flame shot from his fingertip and traced a glowing path across the side of the crate before it faded away. A yellow tongue of flame leapt up from the box as it caught fire.
“Good job,” Garrett said.
“The box is still there, Crane,” Mujah said.
Crane frowned at him and then winced in pain as he pried the empty, frost-covered steel canister from the palm of his left hand. He flexed the feeling back into his fingers as he handed the drained canister over to Garrett. “I don’t think we’ll be needing any Magi robes in my size,” he laughed.
“You’re still learning,” Garrett said, “You get better with practice.”
Crane glanced toward Mujah and chuckled. “If Mujah gets any more practice, he’s gonna knock a hole in the wall next time.”
“My turn!” Diggs said, loping toward the center of the floor. He straightened to his full height and lifted a small talisman from his chest to his lips, kissing it before unstoppering his flask.
“What’s that, Diggs?” Garrett asked.
“Oh, this?” Diggs said, lifting the leather cord of his necklace to let the crystal pendant dangle away from his furry chest, “It’s my focus.”
“Your what?” Garrett asked.
“My… focus,” Diggs said, a bit more quietly, his eyes shifting uncomfortably.
Scupp stifled her laughter behind her paw.
“What’s it do?” Garrett asked.
“I dunno,” Diggs said, “It’s supposed to… you know… make my magic more powerful.”
“Where did you get that?” Garrett asked.
“He traded two death masks and a signet ring to a satyr for that piece o’ junk,” Scupp laughed.
Warren growled. “Diggs! I told you to stay away from those guys!”
Diggs bared his fangs at the other ghouls. “Laugh now, fools!” he grumbled, “But you’ll be laughin’ out the other side o’ your snouts when you behold the power of Diggs the Destroyer!”
Scupp rolled over backwards, snorting loudly, and Warren shook his head.
Diggs pointed at each of them in turn and gave them a menacing nod before turning his attention back to the crate before him.
Diggs tossed back his essence canister, gulping down the contents as quickly as he could.
“Not the whole flask!” Garrett groaned, “Diggs!”
“Let ‘im do it,” Scupp hissed, gasping for air through her laughter, “It’s funnier that way!”
Diggs wiped a dribble of green slime from the corner of his mouth and cast the empty canister away. He grasped the crystal pendant tightly in his right paw and pointed at the burning crate with his left.
“Veerna ta Magrunda!” Diggs growled, glowing essence bubbling out between his teeth.
Nothing happened.
“Veerna ta Magr… Ow!” he shouted, suddenly releasing his grip on the crystal pendant. It fell against his chest, the previously clear crystal now glowing a vibrant green and emitting a piercing whine that grew louder by the moment, even as the green glow strengthened in intensity. His fur began to smolder where the crystal touched it.
Diggs stared down in horror, first beating at the blazing crystal with his paws then trying to tear the leather cord from his neck.
“Get it off! Get it off!” he howled.
Scupp was beside him then. She grabbed hold of the necklace cord and yanked hard. Digg’s eyes bulged as the leather cord dug into his neck without breaking. He choked out a strangled, “Help!”
Suddenly Crane rushed to his side, slashing the cord free with his knife, freeing the singed ghoul. The crystal necklace bounced across the floor, its radiance now so intense that it left a trail of afterglow in Garrett’s eyes as he scrambled to retrieve it. The crystal screamed with a piercing whine that caused the ghouls and Lady Ymowyn to fall to their knees with their paws clutched over their ears.
The human boys faired little better, but Garrett was able to snatch the crystal up, feeling it vibrating with such intensity that it numbed his hand through his glove. He turned and hurled it through one of the broken windows in the nearest wall.
“Get down!” he shouted, but no one heard him over the blast that sent him flying through the air.
He came to his senses a moment later, coughing and bruised and covered in dust. Bits of masonry were still raining down around him. He sat up to discover himself in the middle of a pile of his friends, all of them dazed but none of them really hurt.
Scupp slapped Diggs hard across the ear and Warren pelted him with a chunk of wall.
Lady Ymowyn stood up, dusting bits of rubble from her ruined dress. Half of the red fur of her face was now covered in fine white ash. “I’m done,” she said, and turned to walk out, her bushy red tail, now dusted with powder, lashing angrily behind her.
The two Lethian boys looked at each other and laughed.
“You know, Diggs,” Garrett sighed, “if we could ever harness your power for good, we could win the war in like a week.”
Diggs grinned sheepishly, and then a chunk of the ceiling bounced off of his head.
*******
Garrett walked Crane and Mujah back to the Queensgarden exit from the tunnels. He bade them goodnight, turning down their offer to visit for dinner. He was anxious to get home and see Uncle Tinjin again.
He took the streets home, glad to get clear of the close, dampness of the tunnels and grateful for the cool night breeze. The first Curfew chime rang out as he made the last turn toward the Arcane Quarter. The chimes did not fill him with the same dread that they once did, but rather a deep sense of melancholy. He walked the emptying streets alone, thinking on the end of childhood and the unknown road that lay ahead.
He stopped, pausing to listen for the sound that he had thought he had heard before, a faint buzzing, like the droning of Lampwicke’s wings. He looked around but heard nothing now but the hiss of a street lamp.
He reached the door of Uncle’s manor house. As he put his hand on the door, the thought came to him that it would soon be his manor house. It did not seem real somehow. He turned the key in the lock… Uncle’s lock… perhaps it would always be the old man’s house, no matter what happened… and opened the door.
“Hi, Garrett,” Marla said. The vampire girl sat on the steps of the main staircase waiting for him. She closed the book on her lap and set it aside, brushing back a strand of her dark hair from her eyes.
Garrett dropped his satchel and rushed forward to embrace her.
Marla coughed and laughed. “What happened to you?” she asked.
Garrett stepped back, cringing at the sight of the thin coat of gray dust he had left across the front of her black jacket.
“Sorry,” he said, “Diggs kinda blew up the magic school.”
“Is everyone all right?” she asked, brushing some of the dust from Garrett’s shoulders.
“Yeah, they’re fine,” he said, stepping back to strip off his filthy cloak and Templar tabard, “What are you doing here?”
Marla’s nose wrinkled at the proximity of Garrett’s sodden undershirt, but her smile held firm. “Mother and I wanted to visit with your uncle again before he left.”
“Is he here?” Garrett asked.
Marla nodded. “I thought I would give mother and your uncle some time together,” Marla said, “and, anyway, I was hoping to see you.”
Garrett winced. “I’d have come home sooner, if I’d known you’d be here,” he said.
“It’s all right,” she said, “I brought a book to read while I waited.”
Garrett laughed.
Marla’s eyes fell to Garrett’s shirt. “Do you want to go clean up a bit?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he admitted, “I probably should… I just don’t want to waste the time that I could spend with you.”
“Go clean up,” she laughed, “I’ll still be here when you get back… if you hurry.” She gave
him a mischievous grin.
Garrett only tripped on one of the steps as he ran upstairs, but his momentum carried him through it, and he managed not to fall.
He quickly scrubbed the grime and soot from his skin, not bothering to heat the bath water. He toweled off with equal haste, dragging on a fresh pair of leggings and his least wrinkled tunic. He yanked open the door to the hall with the intent of racing back downstairs, but came to an abrupt stop, finding Marla standing in the hallway, just outside his door.
She leaned close and kissed him softly on the lips. When he had caught his breath again, he returned the favor.
At last she pulled away, smiling at him. She nodded toward the little stairway at the end of the hall. “Let’s go up on the roof,” she said.
Garrett nodded his agreement.
They stepped out onto the balcony where Garrett had freed Lampwicke… where they had first kissed… and breathed in the cool night air.
“I like this place,” Marla whispered. She ran her hand along the railing and then turned to look out across the rooftops toward the east.
“Then stay here,” Garrett said.
Marla sighed.
Garrett felt something cold twist inside him, and he turned his gaze toward the south.
“Garrett, you know that I love you,” Marla said.
Garrett looked at her, and the ice melted in his heart. “I love you too,” he said.
“But I can’t stay here,” she said, looking at him with pain in her eyes.
“Why not?” he asked.
“I know who I am now, Garrett,” she said, “I’ve never really known before, but I know now… I can’t stay here forever, however much I might want to.”
Garrett fell silent. He nodded at last. “I know,” he said.
Marla gave him a hopeful smile. “You understand?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think I do,” he said, “You have some… destiny or something that’s gonna take you away from here. I know that now.”
“Garrett… I don’t want to leave. It’s just that…”
“I know,” he said, forcing a little smile, “You don’t have a choice in that… I understand.”
“Oh, Garrett,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly.
“Thing is though,” he added, “I do have a choice.”
She pulled back to give him a questioning look.
“You see, Marla,” he laughed, “I figured it out. You may not have a choice in your fate… maybe all of this was handed down to you like some curse… or maybe a blessing… You have to face that… I understand. I know that you can’t hide from it here with me. They’d just come to get you and make you face it. I know that you don’t have a choice… but I do.”
She stepped back with a shadow of uncertainty on her face.
“I choose to love you, Marla, no matter what,” he said, “Wherever you have to go… whatever you have to do… I will always love you, and I will always be there for you. There is nothing they can ever do or say to make me give up on you… I love you, and nothing in the world is gonna change that.”
Marla put her hands to her lips, and suddenly sobbed. Her dark eyes brimmed with tears, and then she flew forward into his arms again.
He held her close, letting her cry against his shoulder. He breathed in the flowery scent of her hair. He shut his eyes, sealing away this moment for the dark times ahead. He felt the cold fire stir in his breast again, but this time he welcomed it, for it only served to stiffen his resolve.
“You’re my girl, Marla,” he whispered, a fierce grin spreading across his face as he opened his eyes to gaze into the blackness of the night, “and nothing is ever gonna change that.”
Chapter Seventeen
The Fraelan ship arrived in port the following Thursday, and Uncle Tinjin made his final preparations for departure.
He asked Chunnley to prepare the meal for his going away party, as Mrs. Nash would want to spend time with her brother and her son Pierce before they shipped out again. In any case, the Fraelan woman was not familiar with ghoulish cuisine, and many of Uncle’s party guests would be of the necrophagous persuasion.
That Uncle was able to procure a dead body for Chunnley to work with came as no surprise, given the assistance of Bargas and Warren, but where he came up with a cask of fresh siren’s blood for his vampire guests to enjoy was anyone’s guess. Garrett suspected that Mrs. Veranu had something to do with it.
After dinner, Scupp helped Chunnley clear away the plates while her brother, Warren, and the other young ghouls traded gruesome stories in the corner with a few of the city’s necromancers who had decided against following Max and the others on the latest expedition. Jitlowe, who had been happy not to have been invited on the expedition, discussed fashion with Master Jannis, one sipping fine Zhadeen wine, the other savoring his third goblet of siren’s blood.
Lady Ymowyn was doing her best to teach Garrett and Marla the steps of an Astorran waltz, stopping often to chide the trio of musicians whom Uncle had hired to play the night. The musicians, two young men and a woman, seemed altogether terrified of the party guests but did their best to follow the fox woman’s instructions, wending their way through the unfamiliar chords and tempo of the northern musical style. Garrett was grateful at least that they were distracting Ymowyn from a closer critique of his rather limited dancing abilities.
In any case, he would have borne any abuse for the chance to dance with Marla, no matter what music was playing.
Mrs. Veranu, Bargas, Serepheni, and Uncle Tinjin sat at the table, lingering over their supper and laughing about old times. Garrett cast them a jealous glance, knowing that Tinjin would be gone soon, but Marla spun him around with a girlish giggle. The comforting warmth of Marla’s body against his scattered all thoughts of the morrow, and he let himself become lost in the dream of the moment.
“What are you going to do with the house once your uncle leaves?” Marla asked.
“What do you mean?” Garrett asked.
“Are you going to redecorate?” she asked, dipping beneath his arm as she pivoted on her heel in the steps of the dance.
“Huh?”
“Brighten the place up a little,” she said, “Redecorate.”
“What’s wrong with it now?” he asked.
“It seems a bit gloomy,” she said, stepping close and then back again.
Garrett glanced at Marla’s black dress and frowned.
“This place is gloomy, even by vampire standards,” she laughed.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, glancing at the row of horned skulls engraved along the baseboards.
“So, why not make it a little more cheerful?” she said.
Garrett quickly apologized for bumping her with his elbow on the next turn. “Uh, I like it this way,” he added.
“Really?” she said.
“I don’t know,” he said, “I guess I haven’t thought about it, really.”
“Well you should think about it,” she said, “It might not remind you so much of him all the time if you make it your own.”
“Why wouldn’t I want it to remind me of him?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping close again, and then stopping as the harpist botched a particularly difficult transition, and Lady Ymowyn moved in quickly to instruct the harried musician on the proper melody. Marla smiled at the sight and then added, “I just thought you might want to, you know, keep your mind on something else.”
“Well, you could come visit more often,” Garrett said.
Marla gave him a pained smile.
“Again!” Ymowyn said, and the music started anew.
Garrett immediately stepped on Marla’s toe.
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s all right,” she laughed. Then her eyes sparkled at some private thought.
“What?” Garrett said.
“Do you want to see how it’s supposed to be done?” she asked.
“You mean you alrea
dy knew how to do this dance?” he asked, feeling slightly betrayed.
“No,” she said, “but I think I’ve worked it out now… let me lead.”
“Huh?”
“Just go limp,” she said.
“I’ll fall over,” he said, “…again.”
“No you won’t,” she said.
Garrett shrugged and let his arms go slack as Marla shifted her grip to support his left wrist with her right hand, putting her left hand in his lower back.
“Now step on my toes,” she said.
“I already did that,” he said.
“No, I mean stand on them,” she said, “like my shoes were a ledge, and there’s a pit below you.”
“Like this?” he asked, placing the toes of his boots over hers.
“Put your weight on them,” she said.
“I’ll hurt you,” he said.
“I promise you won’t,” she laughed.
Garrett leaned forward, pressing his chest close against hers. He wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but he liked it so far.
“Now hold on,” she whispered in his ear.
It was at this moment that the three musicians finally mastered the tempo of the Astorran waltz and the music rang out with harmony and confidence. Marla lifted Garrett’s body and spun him effortlessly around, dipping and spinning in the steps of the dance. The walls and faces of his friends blurred together into a warm glow, and Garrett’s senses reeled with dizziness and the dreamlike scent of Marla’s hair.
They danced across the floor together, dipped and twirled, until Garrett began to understand what Lady Ymowyn had been trying to teach them. As the waltz slowed into its final strains, Garrett stepped off of Marla’s feet and took her hand in his. She smiled as he slowed the pace to his own level of mastery, even as the music slowed with him, a single flute carrying the melody as the drum and harp fell silent. Garrett turned Marla around then and pulled her close as the flute trilled out the final, mournful note of the waltz.
“Like that?” he whispered, looking into her eyes.
“Yeah,” she sighed, nodding her head gently.
“Well done!” Lady Ymowyn said, clapping her hands together.
The others joined in with applause for Marla and Garrett as they turned to face the other guests.
The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) Page 21
