Sword of Fire (Through the Ashes Book 1)

by J. A. Culican

  Bells had to think about it for a moment, so the impatient clerk would just have to wait. He'd offered more than she had figured her goods would buy. Melted down to bars, though, it would easily fit in her pack. But whatever she had told Father, buying metal was only part of her objective, and apparently, she could keep some of her trade goods to get around the city, if necessary.

  At last, she said, "Ten of the high-grade and ten of the low-grade, please." As the clerk scribbled notes and then fished into her backpack, she bit her lip. It was now or never. Gathering her courage, she added, "Also, I'd love to see my cousin, Hawking. Can you let him know I'd like to talk to him?"

  The clerk stopped writing and eyed her up and down. The slight wrinkle of his nose told her everything she needed to know about the urban fae's opinion of her. She was only a country fae, but she wouldn't have traded places with him for the world.

  He pursed his lips. "And may I ask your name, and how you are related?"

  Bells couldn't hold back her smile, despite the clerk's arrogant attitude. She might get to see her cousin after all. "Yes, my name is Bells. My father is Harp, and we're related by way of the same grandfather."

  The clerk turned to the other one, an older woman, and handed her a slip of paper, whispering into her ear. She nodded once and headed up the stairs. Bells had the troll's full attention now, she realized, though he made no move toward her.

  Five minutes later, the woman came back down. "Patron Hawking will see you now. Follow me." As she led Bells up the stairs, she looked over her shoulder and said, "I warn you, make no sudden movements. Do not touch him—ever. And try not to look him in his eyes. Do you understand?"

  Bells nodded, a bit confused by the odd instructions. When they reached the top, the clerk led her down the walkway to the door farthest from the stairs, knocked twice, then opened the door wide. Bowing, she said, "Patron, your... relative is here. Is there anything else, sir?"

  Bells stepped inside hesitantly. Why was she afraid? This was her cousin, after all.

  "No," said a deep voice from the other side of a big, plush chair that faced away from the door toward an empty fireplace in the center of the room.

  "Remember what I said," the clerk whispered, then closed the door behind her as she left.

  Bells' voice spiked high with excitement as she said, "Cousin Hawking! I'm so glad to meet you, and thanks for taking the time to—"

  The deep voice cut her off. "Yes, yes. Me too. Come, sit and tell me what this is about. I have little time, so make it quick, if you please."

  She came around to the empty chair beside his—more lavish than anything she'd ever sat in—and smiled. He smiled back but it didn't reach his eyes. Eyes she was instructed not to look in, but it was too late. The only thing she saw there, though, was weariness, nothing scary, and Hawking didn’t seem angry by it. He was well-built and his hands were rough. A man used to working hard, she noted with approval. He was tall for a fae, too, probably five-foot-six, and he had close-cropped brown hair. Practical.

  She said, "So, your mother and my father were siblings-of-half, through our grandfather."

  "Yes, I've heard our parents were very close a couple centuries ago, but life took them in different directions—your father to farming crops on the other side of the Veil, my mother as a... servant... of the elves. I'm happy to find I have a cousin who is still alive. Not all my cousins have been so lucky. So, how can I help my new friend today?"

  Bells fought the urge to frown. Fae of blood simply did not rush through meeting for the first time. It wasn't the done thing. Very well, she'd get right to the point. "I'm here at my father's request to buy metal, which I've already arranged downstairs with your clerks..."

  "...But?"

  "But, I'm also looking for the numbers and street names—"

  "The address."

  "Okay, the address, for a dragon I once met, Jaekob, son of the dragons' First Councilor. I know he's here but didn't realize the city would be so large." Hawking's mouth ticked upward at one corner, amused for some reason. After a moment of silence, she continued, "I'd consider it a Favor Given, from my family to you."

  She felt a thrill of triumph as he lost his smirk. She'd made it an official debt rather than just a courtesy between blood family. Hopefully, his merchant instincts would give that value where blood relation hadn't.

  The silence stretched on awkwardly, his gaze never wavering. Then, he nodded. "Very well. You're blood, so I'll give you the address and keep this between us, and as my way of apologizing for my rudeness—I really am too busy for this, I wasn't lying—I'll have my clerks give you anything you need to resupply you for your trip home, free of charge. I have a wagon headed out beyond your village, leaving tomorrow, so if you're here in the morning, I can have them give you a ride home."

  "That's beyond generous, cousin. I thank you."

  "Just one more thing, though. Why do you want to see the First Councilor's heir?" He said it casually, but something made the hair on her arms stand up.

  She kept her face a mask of stone, trying to hide her sudden caution. "As I said, I met him once. He invited me to say hello. I doubt I'll ever be back in this city, so I wanted to take advantage of the invitation."

  There. That should be innocent enough, and if he was reading her aura, he wouldn't see a lie. She couldn't put her finger on just why she thought it mattered, though.

  Hawking smiled and this time, it reached his eyes. They sparkled merrily as he grinned. "Okay. That's quite a tale. If you come back someday, you simply must tell me the whole story. But regardless, if you wait downstairs, I'll have someone look up the address and what time your 'friend' Jaekob should be home. A word of warning, though—get there at the right time. Too early and you'll stand out, and I can't guarantee your safety. Not even shadow-walking will hide you very long. And if you get there too late, the First Councilor will be home again, settled in inside, and they see no one after hours. So, timing is key. Is that help enough?"

  Bells nodded, grinning. "Yes, of course. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it." His smile was infectious and it put her arm hair at ease, too. "I'll wait downstairs. Thanks again. If you get out our way, you must visit. After all, we owe you a debt."

  They said their goodbyes, touching foreheads, and then she made her way downstairs. She felt good about her chances for the first time since she’d first thought of finding Jaekob again. She was light as a feather as she resupplied her pack and confirmed her order would be filled in the morning. When the clerk slipped a piece of paper into her hand, along with her receipt, her heart practically burst.

  Tomorrow morning... She hadn't thought it would be so soon, and it meant she could head home right away. That was vital for her father to have any chance at finishing the troll's mace.

  She made her way outside as quickly as she could and managed to hold her excitement long enough to get back into the market crowd. Then, she skipped for joy as she set out across the market. Time to find a place to hole up until it was closer to the time written on her note.

  It had turned out to be a good day, after all.

  As the dawning light streamed through the window into the abandoned human house, waking her gently, Bells stretched and smiled. She couldn't wait to see Jaekob again. He was going to make the world right again, he just had to, and this time, she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

  She flicked her hand and the faint shadow which covered her and all her possessions faded away. It was a weak spell that wouldn't have stopped a Pure actively searching for someone in the room, nor fooled the senses of a were paying attention, but it was enough to make a casual observer's eyes glide over her, unseeing. A useful spell for any fae while traveling.

  Once she'd risen and snacked on some of her dried foods, she finished dressing and headed out. She had chosen a spot only two blocks from Jaekob's house, and finding shadows would be fairly easy because of the low morning sun.

  Once she spotted the house, though, she froze.
It was no house—it was a mansion. It could have held all the people in her village comfortably. Heck, probably their houses, too. Status clearly came with privileges... Maybe she was wrong to come here. Anyone who lived in a house so obscenely rich wouldn't care about their own people, much less the disposable fae. What if they detained her for daring to try to talk to her betters?

  A dozen such thoughts flew through her mind, doubt eating away at her resolve.

  No! She shook her head to clear them away and placed her hand on a patch of grass to draw comfort and positive energy from the growing things and the crawling things beneath them. The doubt lifted. So, what if any of that happened? She and her family would be dead in a few days, anyway, if she didn't at least try. And she couldn't imagine dragons doing anything worse to her than the troll would do when he returned to collect his mace. He was probably going to do it even if she did get back in time for Father to forge it. With her resolve strengthened, she waited for the time she'd been given. It was only ten minutes away.

  She passed the time by weaving a sight spell, idly curious about the protections the property had. Impressive... there was a full dome over the property, a protective spell that would block any magic she was strong enough to cast. It looked powerful enough to stop a hundred fae spells. Interwoven with the ice-blue protective energy, a mesh of red threads ran throughout the dome. Ah, so even physical access was blocked. It meant that they'd have to lower their dome to leave or return, she realized, but it was also much stronger than a selective spell, one that would allow some to pass and still block others. All-or-nothing was always stronger.

  She wondered what else in life that could apply to.

  The dome would vanish when someone left, and that would be her opportunity. Clever of Hawking to know all that. She'd have to swing back by and thank him later, assuming Jaekob didn't just melt her with dragonfire when he saw her, of course.

  One minute before the listed time of 6:45 AM, Bells let her shadow-walk fade away and crossed the street, her heart in her throat and her stomach churning.

  The front door opened, and a powerfully-built man walked out wearing a human business suit. Even from a distance, she could see the suit was of the finest quality. He was walking down the empty driveway toward the street, but just as he reached it, he seemed to notice her. His head whipped toward her and he paused for a second before walking the rest of the way down to meet her.

  Her stomach flip-flopped, threatening to unload itself, and she swallowed hard. When he came within a few feet of her, she blurted, "I'm so sorry I couldn't come up to meet you, I would have, but there was a shell, and—"

  "Whoa," he said. "Do I know you? I have to be at a meeting in ten minutes, but you can make an appointment with my secretary."

  No, no, no. He was supposed to smile and be happy to see her... "Jaekob, don't you recognize me?"

  Or maybe, she realized after she'd spoken, the shell might have blocked her scent. He had said that was how he would know her, after all.

  The man grinned widely and seemed to relax. "You're mistaken. I'm Mikah, Jaekob's father. You must have met him in his dragon form, I take it. Is he expecting you?"

  Even being friendly as he was, his aura of authority and power was intimidating and she had to fight the urge to crawl away under a rock somewhere. She was stupid for thinking a dragon would talk to a fae. Except that Jaekob actually had talked to her. Well, there was no point running away now. "Yes, when the dragons were finally Rising into the world, I met Jaekob. He made it clear he would recognize me when we met again."

  There. That wasn't a lie. If he was looking for a dishonest aura, he wouldn't find one on her, and she would have been stunned if he weren't checking it.

  He cocked his head but kept a faint smile on his face. So, at least she wasn't going to get burned to ashes today. Not yet.

  "Very well,” he said. “I'm about to leave, but you can come in and go to the door. Security will check you through. I don't think he has anything major planned today. Do behave, though, fae. Ta-ta." He waved his hands in an intricate pattern, and as the shell vanished, the air rushed into the suddenly-empty space it had left behind.

  From the corner of her eye, Bells caught movement. She'd had her senses extended as far as a mere fae like her could send them because she was scared of being caught out in the open by a troll or something. Her senses told her there were four—no, five—people moving in quickly from the shadows across the street. Two trolls, two weres, and an elf.

  "Sir!" she cried. Mikah had one leg raised into the air and the beginnings of wings were sprouting from his back as he summoned his dragon form to take off.

  Catching the tone in her voice, he stopped mid-transformation and looked at her, his expression confused. "What is—"

  Before he finished his sentence, she felt a flare of energy coming from the weres, and a different sort of energy flare from the elf. The weres had transformed into their most fearsome forms, she assumed, as her senses told her they were rushing across the street at impossible speeds. The elf, however, sent a bolt of energy streaking toward Mikah.

  And he hadn't seen it.

  Bells flung up her arm, hand outstretched toward Mikah, snap-firing her fae version of a shield. It was really more like a thick wall of heavy resistance. She saw the energy bolt hit her shield, and it slowed enough to see it passing through as her barrier disintegrated.

  But it was enough. The split-second gave Mikah time to duck, and the bolt passed harmlessly over his head. He shouted one word, and she felt the power of the dome shield return. She spun to face the danger, realizing she'd just put herself between an enemy she couldn't hope to fight and their target she couldn't reach. By Creation, she was done for.

  A bolt streaked toward her, but just before it struck her in her face, it seemed to hit something and splashed outward, like a melon thrown against a wall, before it faded away.

  Whoa. She was inside the wall, she realized. Mikah had thrown the shell back up knowing she was far enough in to be protected. She spun to face him. "What if I were an assassin?" she cried, feeling a weird mix of anger and concern.

  Mikah closed his eyes and muttered under his breath for a moment, then turned to her and smiled. "You saved me much trouble, youngling. That bolt would have frozen me mid-transformation, just long enough for those two weres you see running away to reach me at my most vulnerable."

  "I did?" Had she? Huh. Yeah, it seemed she had.

  The dragon laughed out loud. "Yes, fae. I may have defeated them anyway—but I may not have."

  Just as he finished his sentence, she saw a dozen bursts of flame above them, all up and down the street, from a wing of dragons diving and flaming. Where their dragonfire struck a building, it seemed to explode from the impact, sending burning debris in all directions.

  "Well," Mikah said when she didn't respond, "I guess I'm missing my meeting. Let's get you inside and take care of that wound."

  Wound? What wound? She found herself frantically trying to see every part of herself as if he'd said a Ramarispider from beyond the Veil was on her. Right away, she found it—a big chunk of her side had been vaporized, just over her hip. The half-circle of missing flesh was the size of a large apple. It looked mostly cauterized, and wisps of smoke still rose from the burned flesh.

  The world tilted crazily as she stared at Mikah's silently moving mouth, and the ground rushed up to slam into her. As her vision faded around the edges, another face came into view. Just before all turned black, her last thought was that the new, younger man was almost angelic. What an odd thought. She somehow knew without a doubt that it had been Jaekob, come to help her, after all.

  The first thing Bells became aware of was a terrible, searing pain in her side. The second thing was a hushed conversation from nearby.

  "She'll be up soon, but I'm already late for a meeting I cannot miss." It was a gruff male voice she didn't recognize.

  "It's fine, Father. I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere until my shoulde
r heals up, which will take a few hours, but I should be good by tonight for the gala."

  "I wish you hadn't confirmed her story about knowing you. She's not our responsibility, but we had to bring her in and treat her once you acknowledged having known her."

  "Yeah, well, she might have saved your life, Fa. Maybe some gratitude."

  The older voice—Mikah's, she realized—grunted. "All right. You have a point. Just don't let her steal anything. You know how fae have light fingers."

  Bells was fighting the urge to sit up and defend herself from the accusation when she heard the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by silence. She struggled to lift her head but couldn't. She tried to call out, but her desert-dry throat was choked and it took too much effort.

  The blackness closed over her again.

  Her eyes flicked open, but the bright light hurt them and she squeezed them shut again. She tried to remember where she was, but her side was on fire and she couldn't concentrate.

  A man's voice said, "Welcome back to the world, little fae."

  Jaekob? She cracked one eye open and saw a dragon in his human form sitting in a plush office chair beside her... bed? She was in a bed. Memories trickled back, but not fast enough.

  "Thank you. What happened?" Her throat was still painfully dry, and her voice cracked on the last word.

  "Here, take a sip of this. Just a sip, mind you." Jaekob propped her head up with one hand and with the other, helped her drink from a small plastic cup. It felt like rain in a desert in her throat, a welcome relief. "Now that you're awake, I want to thank you for risking yourself to help the First Councilor. Um, my father. Obviously, we can't just have you leave here in your condition, especially not with whoever attacked us no doubt looking for you."

  "Thanks?" She wasn't sure where the conversation was headed, but his tone bothered her. She didn't think he sounded very welcoming. She asked again, "What happened?"

  "Well. That's open to interpretation. There are dragon guards outside the door, by the way, so please don't try to leave. Not until we get to the bottom of this."