The Dwarven Wars

by Leah Cutter

  “I’d had such great hopes for us,” Brett sighed. “That you’d become my mate. The mother of my children.”

  Yeah, children who would kill me, Nora replied. She just had a few more knots. That one around Brett’s neck was tightening nicely. She’d force all the air out of him, keep him from talking ever again.

  “You might have survived,” Brett said, as if he’d heard Nora’s silent reply. “I might have been able to save you.”

  Nora couldn’t help but shake her head. No. He’d tainted her, destroyed her, when he’d kidnapped her. Let alone what would have happened after he’d actually physically raped her.

  “All I wanted was a chance to survive!” Brett called out. He sounded as if he was in pain.

  Nora couldn’t help herself. Her anger overtook her tongue. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be left alone.” She pulled the glowing magical string in her hand too tightly and the edges broke, the knot disintegrating before her eyes.

  She took a step back as Brett floated free. How had he done that? He should still be tied up!

  “Really?” Brett asked softly.

  “Leave me and my family alone,” Nora said firmly, despite how she shook inside. Could she escape before he kidnapped her again? Raped her? Killed her?

  “As you wish,” Brett said with a soft sigh.

  Then he was gone.

  Nora found herself shaking, unable to stop herself. Really? That was all it took for him to go away? For him to finally realize that she hated him? Despised him, heart and soul? That she was willing to corrupt her own magic to destroy him?

  With a start, Nora found herself lying on her bed, back in her dorm room.

  The sticky web still hung from the wall above her.

  Would Brett really never come back? She had no reason to believe him, but she did. Maybe because the words had been spoken on the nether plane, where they were closer to the heart.

  Despair flowed through her. If he did come back, she could only fight him. She wasn’t strong enough to kill him. Possibly she’d never be strong enough.

  It was a bitter pill to swallow.

  Still, she began to unweave her trap, cutting the knots out of where they’d gotten tangled in the circles. The black hairs of the alpaca stuck to her fingers, worming their way through her sheets and clothes. She’d strip the bed and wash everything, but she knew it would take years to get rid of all the black strings.

  Trapping Brett and killing him wasn’t the right way. She knew that, now. No matter how much she wanted to, how much she might have fantasized about it, Flori had been right. Her revenge had tainted her soul.

  She didn’t know what would have happened if she’d actually been able to kill him. How dark would she have grown?

  At least her mom and her brother were safe.

  Nora knew that it would take years, and a lot of therapy, for her to feel safe, not just from Brett, but from her own thoughts.

  Chapter 10

  Denise luxuriated under the hot spray of the shower. God, it felt so good to be clean! She’d had grit and ash in places where she didn’t know she could even get dirty. She felt sorry for the poor maids who would clean up the bathroom after she and Dale left. She’d have to leave extra money for the cleaners on the pillow.

  She’d given Dale first dibs on the shower when they’d arrived at the hotel. That had also given her a chance to spend a few more minutes talking to Sergeant—Richard—Palace.

  He hadn’t quite believed her story of Dale getting trapped in an underground cave. Or that she’d found and rescued him, strictly by following her “mother’s intuition.” But he’d seemed willing to let it slide, particularly given the shape that they both were in. He’d also not quite bought the story of Denise having to leave the house for the night due to a gas leak.

  However, he’d been willing to drive out and rescue them from the side of the highway. He’d brought blankets and towels they could wrap themselves in, along with a thermos of hot chicken soup.

  Five years ago, Denise hadn’t been willing to let anyone new into her life. Richard, as well, had some issues to overcome.

  Talking with him earlier, Denise already found herself looking forward to the weekend, when she and Richard had already set their first date.

  Or their next date, depending on how you wanted to look at it.

  Finally clean, Denise toweled herself dry, availing herself of the thick bathrobes the hotel provided.

  She walked out of the bathroom. The two beds took up most of the space, with a small desk shoved into the far corner. Dale sat on one of the beds, engrossed in whatever show he was watching on the TV.

  “Nora texted,” Dale said without looking at her. “Said the coast is clear.”

  “What?” Denise asked. She reached for the phone her son blindly handed to her. She glanced at the TV—ah, a documentary about Venetian clockmakers.

  Of course.

  She swiped her phone on and found the single message from her daughter.

  Coast is clear. Fairies have all left. So have the dwarves. Talk later.

  Denise frowned at her phone. “Did you talk with her?” she asked Dale.

  He shook his head, then shrugged. “She said talk later.”

  Denise bit her lip, worried. She wasn’t surprised that the fairies had left—the battle had decimated them, possibly literally. Plus, something was killing them, some sort of magic. Maybe the same magic had affected the dwarves, too, which would make them leave.

  She also wasn’t surprised that her magic-wielding daughter already knew about the fairies and the dwarves leaving. Nora often knew things before Denise told her about them, even though Nora frequently complained about not being able to watch events long distant using her magic.

  No, what worried Denise was the “talk later” part of the message.

  Dale, despite being a boy, was much more quiet and reserved than his sister. If he had a problem, he was likely to shut down and go work it out for himself.

  Nora, on the other hand, wanted to “talk everything to death” as Dale would put it. It was not like her daughter to put off any conversation. Denise had quickly learned that an unlimited talk plan for their phones was absolutely a requirement.

  Still, Denise had raised her children to be independent, always giving them more responsibilities as they grew older. She would respect her daughter’s wish to not talk now.

  In the morning, however, Denise planned on calling Nora and getting the full story.

  Or at least as much as Nora would be willing to tell her.

  Brett sat cross legged on his favorite cliff-edge. The ocean constantly talked to itself beneath him. Pines rose steeply behind him, the sweet smell of their needles mingled with the salty air. The staff lay across his lap, quiescent.

  It didn’t have a consciousness, though it was vaguely aware of itself. The magic of the moonbeams trapped within the wood fought their cage, longing to be free, to join the rest of the world again.

  Brett took a deep breath, exhaustion pooling through every muscle and bone. He’d never give Nora the satisfaction of knowing just how close she’d come to killing him. He hadn’t thought it was possible. He’d recognized the trap too late.

  Only the power of the staff had enabled him to escape.

  She’d grown strong. Too strong to be his mate. Ah, the children she would have borne!

  Brett shook his head, not wanting to let such a human thing as regret color his thoughts. He’d always been a realist. It was how he’d survived all those centuries. His mate had rejected him. His last chance of survival. He was too weak to go court another.

  It was time.

  Because he knew of no other way to thank the staff for its support, he dissolved the wood surrounding the magical moonbeams trapped inside. They spread out like white fog immediately, pushing to get away, sparkling with magic and soft light.

  Finally, the fog dissipated, sinking into the ground, some of it rising back into the air, going to dance with the stars. />
  It looked so easy and painless, Brett decided to do the same thing himself.

  He dissolved his physical body, letting the skin turn to ash and the bones melt into the rocks beneath him. He flung his spirit up, as far as it would go, becoming one with the winds he’d always adored. The gusts teased apart all the pieces of himself, spread his being far and wide, until nothing remained of the Old One, just the clean shore, the constant waves, and the night.

  “He’s gone,” Rainy’s voice said over the phone.

  “Who’s gone?” Nora asked crossly. She was still tired—no, exhausted—from all the work she’d done the night before, destroying the trap she’d built, crying over her desperate fears that she’d never be strong enough to protect herself, that she’d always be in danger.

  “The Old One. He…died, we think,” Rainy said.

  “What?” Nora asked, sitting heavily down on her desk chair. “How? Why? How?”

  “We’ve always had watchers at the borders of his land. They disappeared abruptly sometime last night. We’re still searching, but we think he’s gone for good,” Rainy explained.

  “Oh,” Nora said. Had she hurt him more than he’d let on? “Good,” she finally said. “I’m glad…I’m glad he’s gone.” And she was, though it still hurt that she hadn’t been the one to actually take him out. Even knowing what that would have done to her soul.

  “Can you wait a few more days until we’re certain?” Rainy asked. “Before you go back home?”

  “Home?” Nora said, suddenly confused. Then she processed what Rainy had said. “Sure. I can wait. I should really finish off the semester first, anyway.”

  Nora said goodbye to her teacher, then sat there, still thinking.

  Home.

  She could return to Dale and her mom. Go back to Port City. She knew, however, that she could never return there to live forever. Sure, she could visit. Looking backwards all the time had been part of her problem with Brett. He had forced her to pay attention to him, to her past, instead of moving forward into her future.

  No more.

  Nora would go home for the holidays. Stay in her old room, spend time insulting her brother and making crazy bets with him. But now, finally, she could move on. Move forward. Make her own home, create her own future.

  Her imagination was her only limit, now.

  Author Note

  There is no Port City. I’ve always envisioned it on the Oregon Coast around Lincoln City and Newport.

  Dedication

  To my one true love, who helped me finish.

  * * *

  To my fans, who wrote email and asked me to finish.

  * * *

  And as always, to Kris and Dean, who helped me start this second writing career of mine, convincing me that I wasn’t finished.

  About the Author

  Leah Cutter writes page-turning fiction in exotic locations, such as a magical New Orleans, the ancient Orient, Hungary, the Oregon coast, rural Kentucky, Seattle, Minneapolis, and many others.

  She writes literary, fantasy, mystery, science fiction, and horror fiction. Her short fiction has been published in magazines like Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine and Talebones, anthologies like Fiction River, and on the web. Her long fiction has been published both by New York publishers as well as small presses.

  Find Leah’s books here.

  Follow her blog at www.LeahCutter.com.

  Never miss a release!

  If you’d like to be notified of new releases, sign up for my newsletter.

  I only send out newsletters once a quarter, will never spam you, or use your email for nefarious purposes. You can also unsubscribe at any time.

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  http://www.leahcutter.com/newsletter/

  Reviews

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  Also by Leah Cutter

  The Changeling Troll

  Piles of books line the floor of Christine’s living room, threaten to take over every surface in her apartment. Christine escapes into her stories every chance she gets. Because magic only happens in fairy tales. Right?

  After losing a bet with her brother, Christine forces herself to leave the sanctuary of her apartment and go to a real bar. Listen to a live band. Maybe dance.

  She hates all of it with a passion—the noise, the music, the people. Then the impossible happens. She meets her identical twin.

  The Changeling Troll—the first novel in a new-adult, urban fantasy trilogy—turns the ugly duckling story on its head in this enchanting, whimsical tale.

  Available from your favorite retailers

  The Shadow Wars Trilogy

  Read the three books of The Shadow Wars trilogy, about the shape shifters who hide among us and their battles with those who would destroy humanity:

  The Raven and the Dancing Tiger

  The Guardian Hound

  War Among the Crocodiles

  * * *

  Available from your favorite retailers!

  Additional books by Leah Cutter

  Seattle Trolls

  The Changeling Troll

  The Princess Troll

  The Clockwork Fairy Kingdom

  The Clockwork Fairy Kingdom

  The Maker, the Teacher, and the Monster

  The Dwarven Wars

  The Shadow Wars Trilogy

  The Raven and the Dancing Tiger

  The Guardian Hound

  War Among the Crocodiles

  Contemporary Fantasy

  Siren’s Call

  The Immortals’ War

  Zydeco Queen and the Creole Fairy Courts

  The Chronicles of Franklin

  The Popcorn Thief

  The Soul Thief

  * * *

  The Cassie Stories

  Poisoned Pearls

  Tainted Waters

  Spoiled Harvest

  About Book View Cafe

  Book View Café Publishing Cooperative (BVC) is an author-owned cooperative of over fifty professional writers, publishing in a variety of genres such as fantasy, romance, mystery, and science fiction, offering DRM-free ebooks in multiple formats to readers around the world.

  Book View Café authors include New York Times and USA Today bestsellers Nebula, Hugo Award and, Philip K. Dick and Rita award winners; World Fantasy Award, Campbell Award, and Rita Award nominees; and winners and nominees of many other publishing awards.

  Since its debut in 2008, BVC has gained a reputation for producing high quality DRM free ebooks, and is now bringing that same quality to its print editions.

  The Dwarven Wars

  Book Three of the Clockwork Fairy Kingdom Trilogy

  * * *

  Copyright © 2017 Leah Cutter

  All rights reserved

  Published by Book View Café

  by arrangement with Knotted Road Press

  www.BookViewCafe.com

  www.KnottedRoadPress.com

  * * *

  ISBN: 978-1-61138-680-6

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Never miss a release!

  If you’d like to be notified of new releases, sign up for my newsletter.

  I only send out newsletters once a quarter, will never spam you, or use your email for nefarious purposes. You can also unsubscribe at any time.

  http://www.leahcutter.com/newsletter/

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