Embers of Darkness (Through the Ashes Book 2)

by J. A. Culican

  "Really? I'm stunned. If he was so good, why did the elves stick him on a farm? No wait—that came out the wrong way. I mean, why were they wasting his talents? Maybe something political."

  "Actually, my father told us even before the Veil was torn that we were in for rough times ahead. It seems a powerful elf high up in the White King's vassals wanted my father's services to craft a sword that, in the hands of a master, could never be beaten."

  "Your father said no?"

  She nodded. "He told the man, whose name he never mentioned to me, that he would get no sword, and said, 'The spirit of the man who made it, and that of the man for whom it was made, are both forged into the sword. Noble and ignoble spirits cannot occupy the same blade.'"

  "Ouch. It wouldn't have gone over well."

  "Obviously, the elf was mortally offended to be insulted by a mere fae who refused to give him the sword he wanted. He said my father would never be a weapon smith by trade again until he made the sword. Father has still not made it," she said with a wistful smile. "I think the story is also meant as some kind of a metaphor on life."

  Jaekob nodded slowly, his eyes unfocused. "That's... beautiful. Your father must be a wise man. That must be where his daughter gets her courage, too."

  Bells snorted. "Courage? I'm always afraid. Of everything. Especially of warriors trying to kill me."

  "And yet you go on. That's the very definition of real courage. To be fearless is to be insane, but to put fear aside is to have courage. Want to know a secret? I'm afraid, too, sometimes. Not like my best friend, Kalvin. I think he really was insane, but in a good way because he always had me yapping in his ear about right and wrong, and he didn't want to disappoint me. Did I ever tell you about the time I saved his life from a Mongolian fireworm?"

  She glanced at the window. Still dark outside, but not for too much longer. Then she gave Jaekob her attention, and that view was much better than the one outside. "No, do tell. Is it a funny story?"

  He grinned, showing his teeth. "I thought so. You might not. It could just be warrior humor. Dragons were raiding in Mongolia while the Japanese tried to destroy China. We wanted to find the true Emperor of China, and—"

  "Wait. The emperor? Why did dragons care about human things?" She looked at him askance.

  "We usually don't, but all the Chinese royal families have loved and revered dragons almost since they developed writing. We owed it to him, one of our few human allies, to put him back in power. It would have been the doom of Japan if we'd ever found the Emperor, but they had stuck him elsewhere, it turned out, disguised like a wealthy playboy a thousand miles away. I still think that was the Japanese sending us an insult, since the Chinese emperors all had Dragonblood in their veins and—"

  "Wait!" Bells flopped over onto one elbow and held up her head with one palm. "The humans had Dragonblood? How is that even possible—everyone knows dragons lay eggs."

  Jaekob's face turned pink and then bright red. Bells reached out and tugged on what little shirt he had on. "C'mon, tell me! I promise not to tell anyone."

  He replied, still blushing red, "How do you think dragons gained the ability to transform into humans? Before the Chinese discovered writing, they still honored us in their myths and legends, and those who wanted to try to conquer all of China always left out women of virtue as sacrifices. Little did they know that men like my father took them in and taught them ancient secrets—including writing and science, by the way—and taught them to honor the other Pures, as well. As a reward for ten years of study—which was a long time to a human woman, especially back then—each tutor would impregnate his student and send her on her way with enchanted travel papers, gold, and everything else they'd need to thrive using what we'd taught them. Some of those children became great philosophers and inventors, but many became warlords. The strongest and luckiest of them sometimes became emperor."

  Bells could only nod, her mind reeling. Then a single question stuck in her head, echoing over and over like it had a mind of its own, and she found herself saying, "So that explains humans with Dragonblood to strengthen them, but I mean, how did you gain a human form, as well?"

  "We would gather up the Dragonblooded humans when they grew too old—forty was pretty old then, but sixty was ancient—and bring them to spend their last years among us as an honor for their accomplishments. Back then, dragons could only transform into human form through old and powerful magic. Often, they'd lay with our honored guests."

  "That doesn't sound fun. Young dragon, old human?"

  "Remember," Jaekob replied, "these were dragons thousands of years old, not some naive men and maidens. It was hospitality, and they were seeing to guests' physical and mental needs. Humans, even the Dragonblooded, haven't lived beyond a century or maybe a bit more ever since they lost their Pure connection to Creation. To give them a couple of years of wonderful life took but a few seconds of charity, from our point of view."

  "And the mere humans did what, impregnate dragons?" This was sounding weirder and weirder, but also illuminating.

  "Their Dragonblood is what made that possible. The eggs that hatched from those unions were small and sickly compared to full dragons, but they were our kin. You'll hear stories of Nephilim, even in the human Bible, talking about how those powerful beings were the children of angels and the most perfect specimens of humanity. Those were our childer, and we educated them well and taught magic, giving them every chance at making a good life for themselves if they wanted to go back to the human realm. Some went bad and tried to take over everything, ruining Creation's plan. It almost worked—their children by human women were just like them. Childer. They lived a few hundred years, longer than the humans they tried to enslave."

  Suddenly, Bells had a horrifying realization. "You mean, the dragons went to war against their own childer? That's terrible!"

  "Yes, it was. Sad and painful, too. But when dragons slew all but the few who had kept to the path dragons taught them, the souls of the fallen Nephilim were dragon enough to be drawn to our Spirit Pools. Ever after, we are as much human in form as dragon, because their spirit energy is mixed into the source of our magic. It happened suddenly, and there was nothing we could do about it. Fortunately, it hasn't shortened our lives or our intellect or our long memories, but ever since then, we've had to spend much of our lives sleeping."

  "So that's where the torpor came from?" Bells stared with wide eyes. What a weird, tragic, yet also amazing and fantastic story. It also meant there really was a way for a dragon and another Pure to be together as more than just friends. She tried to bury that thought so he wouldn't hear it. She almost believed it was just a passing idea. Almost.

  Jaekob waved his hand in front of her face. "I said, yes. Twice. Where did you go, just then? You zoned out." He smirked.

  Maybe he knew.

  "Just thinking about some of the, um, implications of your myths. Nothing, really."

  "Not myths, little fae. My father was young when that war began but he remembers much of it, and there are even older dragons among us. We are immortal even now, so long as we have our torpor and we don't die in battle."

  Bells let out a low whistle. It had been a long tale, and the sun's first rays were appearing on the horizon. The team wouldn't leave the house for a few hours yet, just to be sure most of the weres were down for the day, giving her time to mull over the implications of what Jaekob had told her.

  She didn't want him to hear those thoughts, so she changed the subject. "That's a great story from your father and his elders. What's your best story about Kalvin? He sounds like the type who would be happy to be the center of attention, even dead."

  Jaekob snorted as he tried not to laugh. "Augh... My nose." His words came out as 'by dose,' which made it even more amusing. He glared at her for smirking at him and rubbed his nose. "Ouch. Truth be told, you're probably right. I can tell you how he died—with honor and bravery—but that could never tell you how he really lived. You see, Kalvin was as poor as I
was rich, or rich in theory—the time of the second war against the Germans was a hungry time for everyone, human and dragon alike."

  Those war tales were new, in Bells' earliest memories, and they were all tragic. If she had understood Jaekob correctly in some of his other stories, that was the timeframe when his mother had died.

  She said, "So, those Pures who had been on Earth when the Crown of Pures and the Black Court sealed the Veil had a very rough time of things during that war, right?"

  "Well... Although humans had developed weapons that could actually harm some Pures—not infantry weapons, but bomber munitions and human artillery could, with a direct hit—"

  Bells asked, incredulous, "What kind of leaders were the Crown of Pures to trap so many of their own people on Earth in the middle of all that?"

  Jaekob laughed, but it sounded bitter in her ears. "The Germans and their enemies across the Atlantic Ocean—the Americans who lived here, where we are now—were both working hard to harness the power of the atom to make weapons. Whoever got it first would use it to end the war immediately. The Nazis knew about the Veil and how to open it through the many ancient manuscripts they'd gathered from around the world, especially Chinese scrolls looted by the Japanese and sent to Germany. With an atomic bomb, the German humans could have destroyed the Pures’ homeland and everyone in it if they connected the right dots and drew the right conclusions."

  Bells nodded. It made sense, finally. "Hard to believe they never got beyond atomic power. But what were you saying about Kalvin?"

  Jaekob grinned. His eyes lit up as though seeing a dear old friend for the first time in a long time, and they became unfocused. She thought he would be seeing his memories more than the real world around him and didn't want to interrupt, so she sat quietly and waited.

  When his eyes came back into focus, he said, "What? Oh. Sorry. I got lost there for a moment. So, your turn. What are some of the terrible things you've done when you were younger?" He grinned and waited.

  So much for the story about the Mongolian fireworm. Maybe another time. She sighed and thought for a moment. "Well... There was this one time, when me and my friend Crys had just finished cutting potatoes for the next planting day—they have to harden off for a bit before you plant them—and I'd just spent a couple days in the Punishment Pit for dropping a rake. I wasn't feeling really inspired to work hard, especially since those cuts were going into the foreman's household garden, not mine. So we planted them, all right, but that night we snuck out and went to his garden. Oh, this is great, you'll laugh. So we made sure no one was looking and crawled to where we'd planted the cuts, and we had a nice little chat with them. Ha! They grew wonderfully, just like we'd asked them to, but instead of filling up the garden, they grew their roots up under the foreman's house, and then they grew potatoes right under his packed-earth floor. Around harvest time, they broke through in the middle of his bedroom!"

  Bells covered her mouth and laughed, remembering the look on the foreman's face. The jerk deserved it, and even now, just thinking about the expression on his face—he almost cried! —brought a warm feeling in her belly.

  Jaekob, however, stared at her like she had two heads, one eyebrow rising almost to his hairline, and seemed confused about something.

  She added, "You know, because it broke his floor? He had potatoes in his bedroom. Oh, come on, that was creative! You have to laugh."

  "...Yeah. You were the wild child, obviously," he said, corners of his mouth twitching upward.

  She glared at him, but the mischief in his eyes was contagious and it was too hard to stay irritated. She stepped beside him and slid her arm around his waist, bumping his hip with hers, and he nearly fell over. That look on his face was too much, and she found herself grinning up at him.

  After a moment that stretched long enough to start to feel awkward, he sighed and said, "Well, I know the world hasn't changed, but there are good things in life, too. It's not all so bad. You'll always have potato stories."

  She punched his arm and smirked back at him. "Maybe it hasn't changed. But maybe we can make it a little better, after all." She certainly felt a bit better.

  Bells awoke in the morning feeling rather refreshed. Apparently, she'd dozed off again just before dawn. Although she had stayed up pretty late into the night talking to Jaekob, it seemed to help her cope to rehash old times, the funny times in their lives and the sad times, their biggest triumphs and failures—all the things that had made up their lives before they met. Those were things that reminded her that life was worth living, that there was still hope. It reminded her of the people she wanted to protect, people counting on her to save them whether they knew it or not.

  She still had her doubts about the future of the world, much less whether it deserved what it was getting, but she did know one thing: the people in her life didn't deserve what was coming, regardless of whether the rest of the world did.

  She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then slid the covers off before leaning over to where Jaekob slept on the other side of the bed, shaking him gently. He'd dozed off on top of the covers as they talked. But just before she touched him, he opened his eyes and smiled up at her.

  He said, "Good morning. Did you have a good nap?"

  "I did, thanks. Or at least, I have more energy than I have any right to. That will have to do," she said, smiling back. "Whatever will Hawking think?"

  As he slid his feet over the edge of the bed to the floor, he raised one eyebrow at her with a smirk and shrugged. "I'm sure he will think we were doing the war planning late into the night. Or, maybe he'll have other thoughts. As long as he's not too disrespectful about it, I can take a little bit of teasing from him considering what we've all just been through."

  "And, of course, there is the little fact that we probably need him if we're going to get that sword back, so maybe don't kill him if he pushes it too far. You know, maybe like a warning first. It works with a lot of people," she said as she crawled across the mattress toward the edge. "Actually, I'm kind of surprised he isn't up yet. Or if he is, he hasn't knocked."

  "Yeah, that is a little strange. He's a nice guy, but he can be uptight. He's very focused."

  After they both got their shoes on and grabbed jackets and the rest of their gear, they left the room and walked down the hallway. Bells saw that, although he looked relaxed, Jaekob's eyes continually looked around, sweeping the hallway and each door, alert for any danger. The warrior's way. Not for the first time, she was glad to have his protection.

  When they got to the living room, Bells had expected to find it empty, giving her time to grab a nibble of food from their meager stores, so when she saw Hawking sitting on the couch, fully dressed with his gear leaning against the couch, she felt a little disappointed. She smiled at him and waved, wiggling her fingers.

  Hawking nodded once, acknowledging her. "It's about time you two woke up. I've been up for about an hour after I was rudely awoken by another message from the Sword Society. Ordinarily, people sleep through those, but Dawning just kept hitting me with it until I woke up enough to respond. That must be how the humans felt all the time with their silly cell phones."

  Bells frowned a little thinking about the hapless humans. When the Pures returned to Earth from beyond the Veil, the humans had been caught totally unprepared, and a tank was no match to even a fae's magic. She pushed the thought aside and said, "A message, that early in the morning? It must've been rather important. Or was it personal?"

  "No, it was important. Once I heard what he had to say, I wasn't quite as angry about being woken up. Not so important that I couldn't let you two sleep a little longer," he said, and Bells thought he might have winked at her, but she couldn't be sure.

  Jaekob, who either hadn't seen it or hadn't cared, replied, "I appreciate that. We were up late talking. So, what was this message?" He walked over to the recliner in the living room and sat, then unzipped his bag and began to look through it. He was probably looking for something to eat, which remind
ed Bells of her own hungry stomach.

  Good idea. She sat on the other end of the couch, away from Hawking, and did the same. She had just taken a bite from her granola bar when Hawking replied, "It seems that the agents of the Sword Society have had some success in locating the artifact."

  Bells almost choked, and coughed into her hand.

  Before she could clear her throat, Jaekob half-stood from the chair as he asked, "Why didn't you wake us?" He sat back down, sinking into the plush fabric as he continued, "That seems rather more important than another hour of sleep. I apologize for raising my voice, it just caught me by surprise. So... Do you plan on filling us in?"

  Bells cleared her throat, though it still was dry and irritated. She tried to say, "Yeah, where is it?" But her voice cracked halfway through 'yeah.'

  Without missing a beat, Jaekob said, "Was I right? It's to the north of us, isn't it?"

  Hawking paused long enough to look from Jaekob to Bells, where his eyes lingered a moment longer than they had on Jaekob as she again cleared her throat.

  He said, "Yes, you were right. We're in Conshohocken, northwest from the city, and the sword is only a couple of miles away in what used to be called Fort Washington. That's where the enemy is gathering, but according to the message, it wasn't clear whether they belonged to the White King or the Dark Court. Dawning did say it was clear they were building an army, complete with troll shock troops and were scouts, and there seemed to be as many fae there as troops. The report also said the entire camp was so quiet that it kind of spooked our agents."

  "They're all slaves," Bells half-shouted, leaning forward on the couch. "That's why they're quiet. My people always have been, but if we don't get that sword back, it will be everyone's fate. We didn't deserve that, but we're used to it. We can do something about it now that we know where they are," she said, getting more excited with every word.

  Hawking held both hands up, placating her. "Whoa, you're jumping the gun. I'm not even sure I'm going."