"I do know them, yes. Some are good enough, but they don't have any inborn sense of empathy for others. I'm sorry. Perhaps the heir, Jaekob, might give you one of the armory's maces to spare your family?"
"He hasn't offered."
Chef frowned but nodded. "Yes, he's been rather defeatist lately. Melancholy, even. I think he feels the world these days deserves what it gets."
Bells shrugged. Jaekob had told her as much, but if he hadn't shared that with his family chef, it wasn't her place to tell him. "Thank you again for the meal, Chef. And for the conversation. I wish I had more time to talk to you. Jaekob is driving me home in a little bit, but I will remember you."
Chef wiped his hands on a small towel, which he hung back up on the stove handle when he was done. "I'll remember you too, young Miss Bells. If I could help, I would, but I wish you luck and joy. Just remember one thing, though."
"What's that?" She hopped off the stool and stopped at the counter's edge, waiting for his reply before she left.
"When you see a person who is jaded and sour, it's not because they're dark of heart. It's because they had high ideals that were crushed by life's experiences. Do not judge master Jaekob too harshly, though I know that must be hard given what you are facing."
"Thanks." Bells gave him her best curtsy, a sign of respect, and he smiled and waved before she left.
As she made her way back to her room to get dressed, Chef's last words echoed in her mind. She wished the old dragon was right, but in her experience, the jaded people in this world simply didn't care much about others.
When Bells saw the car awaiting them, her eyes went wide and a grin spread from ear to ear, but then pursed lips replaced the smile. She reached up to rub her ear as her eyes darted everywhere but at Jaekob. "Is... Can we do this? I mean, is it dangerous?"
Jaekob chuckled. "It's perfectly safe. And far more comfortable than a carriage or wagon. How long did you have to walk to get here?"
"Oh, hours and hours. But how does it run? The humans' fuel has all gone bad long ago." She wanted to leap into the wondrous machine but, at the same time, to run as far away from it as possible.
"Pixies, of course. We hire them to power the machines when we need them. They're part of my staff, so it doesn't actually cost us anything more to use their services." He put his hand on her back and gently coaxed her toward the car.
The thing was huge, and human lettering proclaimed it to be a "Cadillac." It had an odd, glittery black paint job and four doors. In front of it were two of the human-built two-wheeled cars. Motorcycles? Yeah, that was it. And two more idled behind the car. The riders she recognized as Dragon Guardians, Jaekob's bodyguards.
Bells let Jaekob guide her to the car's rear door, which he opened for her and said, "If you please, you'll ride in back with me instead of in front so we can chat while we drive. It shouldn't take long. These cars go faster than horses can and never tire out."
She got in a bit awkwardly but managed to slide to the far side. Thankfully, the seats were leather and not one of the toxic manufactured fibers the humans loved so much. All in all, the seat was amazingly comfortable, though she wondered how it would feel if she were stuck inside for a few hours on a long trip.
"Thanks," she said as he got in and closed the door behind him. She was briefly interrupted when two more people got into the front seats and slammed their doors shut. Then she continued, "I've never been in one of these. I was born right after the last big human war, the second German one, but my family are farmers."
Jaekob nodded. Of course farmers didn't need cars. They needed to stay put and farm, not move around. It was their lot in life.
Five miles passed with blinding speed. In mere minutes, they were already outside the city. Amazing. "And you said it can go this speed for as long as you want it to?"
Jaekob, looking out the side window, nodded. "Until we change out the faerie powering the engine. It's tiring for them so they prefer not to do it for more than a couple hours at a time. Half the container space in back is storage—where your backpack is—and the other half we converted into a nice space for the fairies who are off duty. Twenty of 'em for this trip, just in case we need to drive farther than expected."
Bells nodded but worried for them. Sure, fairies were only two inches tall, but Jaekob made it sound like they had a choice in the matter. Fae had no choice. Even those little tricksters were treated better than her kind... Or maybe it was just that Jaekob was a nicer master than the elf who controlled her village. She wasn't about to ask, though.
When she felt the car slowing, she turned to Jaekob and bit her lower lip nervously.
"Don't worry," he said, smiling faintly, "there's just a jam up ahead. Want to stretch your legs and take a look? Maybe you can help."
They'd only been in the car for a few minutes, but if Jaekob needed her to give him an excuse to go check out the cluster of people ahead blocking the road, she didn't mind. "Sure. I'm happy to help. They're fae."
When they climbed out through Jaekob's door, though, she saw there weren't only fae. Two wagons had scraped each other in passing, it looked like, as one had both wheels sheared off. It lay on its side and its full load of vegetables was scattered in the mud. Other fae had stopped to help, but a troll was there, also, barking orders at the fae. Six of them struggled to lift the wagon so they could clear the road, something the troll could have done with one hand. The six weren't having any success, though, despite trying hard enough to make their faces beet-red with effort.
Jaekob called out, "Troll. We're trying to get by. Do you know how long this will take?"
Bells glanced at him and saw he was smiling, and his tone had been friendly, not demanding.
The troll turned and his eyes grew wide. "My prince!" he said, surprised. Jaekob's expression turned irritated. "We'll clear this right away, sir."
Jaekob looked down at her and said, "It doesn't look like you'll need to dirty yourself. If the fae can't move it and the troll won't do it, my Guardians and I will help—"
He stopped suddenly and his eyes narrowed. Bells turned back just in time to see the troll stomp to the wagon and knock two fae backhanded across the road. He grabbed the wagon's underside with both hands and flung it at least ten feet. It landed with a crack and split in half, bits flying off in a cloud of dirt.
Bells let out a squeak and covered her mouth with both hands, eyes wide.
"What is it?" Jaekob looked back at the scene, head tilted, then back at her and said, "Well, next time they'll have to take better care of their wagon. Too bad about the load but at least it was just vegetables."
"You don't understand..."
"They'll just grow more," he replied, rolling his eyes. "It's what farmers do."
"No, they'll never get the chance to. When they get back to their village, their elf is going to let his trolls eat them as a warning to the rest. Even if he doesn't, the next load is going to come out of their personal allotment. They're going to starve to death and then get eaten, or they'll get killed the minute they get home empty-handed."
Jaekob stumbled back a step, mouth falling open.
Bells blurted out before she could stop the words, "Don't pretend you didn't know they'll die over this." She hissed his own words back at him, "That's just what farmers do."
He shook his head faintly. "No, I didn't. I mean, I know fae are mostly farmers—your magic makes you the best choice for that—but that's the natural order of things. Being killed over a wagon of turnips or whatever, that's...barbaric."
"That's elves, Master Jaekob."
His eyes narrowed for just a moment, but to her surprise, she found she didn't much care what he did to her. If he killed her for insolence, he'd probably do it quick and painless, unlike what awaited her family in a few days.
"Get in the car," he said quietly, and she couldn't tell if he was angry or not. His face was a mask, rigidly neutral.
She didn't make him ask twice, sliding wordlessly into the back seat.
>
The next twenty minutes passed in silence, Jaekob gazing out his window with a faraway look, leaving her to her own dark thoughts.
As she watched the scenery pass by, she recognized the outskirts of her village and sat up straighter, trying to get a better look ahead of them through the side window.
Jaekob said, "Driver, stop." He turned to Bells, and at her confused expression, said, "Why don't we walk in together? I need to talk to the foreman anyway. Just business."
She nodded. So that was the real reason he wanted to drive her out there. At least this dragon was efficient. She followed him out of the car, and though she'd hoped to see the faerie "break room" in the cargo area, one of his Guardians had already retrieved her backpack. She had forgotten that dragons could talk mind-to-mind with each other. She smiled her thanks and took the pack, slinging it over her shoulders. "Okay, if you're ready, I am honored to show you my humble village."
The Guardian smirked. "Humble is the word, all right."
Jaekob smiled but his tone was abrupt when he replied, "Be nice. We are in someone else's home, now." The Guardian bowed his head. Jaekob looked down at Bells. "Lead on, little fae."
Nervous, Bells straightened her clothes, ran her hands through her hair, and drew herself up. "Yes, sir," she said and started walking.
Immediately, every head in view turned toward her. Mouths dropped and within seconds, more people appeared, gawking.
Jaekob said softly, "Bells, why are they all dressed in rags? Yours aren't much better, but at least you're presentable. Are you among the wealthy in this village?"
Bells led him around a big mud puddle in the dirt trail that served as the village's main street. "We all wear rags. I'm wearing my older sister's nicest top, my mother's nicest skirt, and my brother's nicest jacket. As the youngest, my own clothes are hand-me-downs and even worse than most."
Jaekob followed in silence, his eyes scanning every detail in the village. His gaze lingered on a young girl who was missing one leg, and his eyes grew wide at the sight of a larger fae man pulling a small plow behind him, which was guided by his very young son.
When she got to her own hut, the door flew open and her mother wrapped her in a big embrace. Her father was next, gathering them both in his arms. After a second, though, he left his wife and daughter hugging and turned to Jaekob. His jaw dropped and he instantly bowed low, touching his forehead to the ground.
"Rise," Jaekob said, softly enough that Bells barely heard him, but her father scrambled to his feet. Then Jaekob pushed his way into the hut, not forcefully but moving inexorably like an iceberg. Bells and her family got out of his way.
"I am Jaekob,” he said in introduction. “Your daughter was gravely injured saving my father, the First Councilor, from an assassination attempt. No—no—she's fine. My doctors healed her and I drove her home by way of thanks." He looked around the hut, his gaze pausing on every crack in the wall, every missing floorboard, every empty candle sconce. "You have a lovely home."
How polite. Bells fought back a scowl and a grin at the same time. "I got the metal, Father," she said, handing him her backpack.
"Thank you, but we can talk about that when we don't have company. Don't be rude," he said, smiling. To Jaekob, he bowed slightly and said, "Thank you for driving her home. You've saved her a day of travel. That's more helpful than you know."
The dragon nodded. "Yes, she's told me of your dilemma. She negotiated a good deal in the market, I believe. You should have enough to fend off that troll."
Father's eyes went wide. "She told you?"
Jaekob shrugged. "I asked. She had to. Tell me, why didn't you just advise your elf village leader about the troll? It is his or her job to fend off such predators. If the troll harms your family, that lowers the output, and he has to answer for that."
Bells shook her head and, with too loud a voice, said, "No. He delights in our suffering, and he'll make up the production by forcing the surviving villagers to work harder. Everyone will be terrified after watching their friends and neighbors—my family—being eaten in the middle of the street."
"You won't run? I would." He raised one eyebrow at her.
"Of course we can't run. Where could a fae go? We're bound to our village by the Pures, just slaves. If we showed up in another village, we'd be turned in. If we hid in the wilderness, we'd be hunted by weres for sport. There is nowhere to go."
He changed the subject, asking Mother about the family and many of the knickknacks her family had accumulated. Well, the Dragon Prince had impeccable manners, at least in public, but Bells didn't miss the fact that his shoulders were slumped, arms crossed, and he wasn't meeting anyone's eyes when they talked. Was he affected by what he saw in the village? Surely he had known how things were, so close to his own home, right?
Or maybe not, since the Prince of Dragons was probably kept busy with his "regal duties." Or even shielded from the terrible things going on around him. She frowned at the thought. How could a ruler truly lead if he didn’t know what was happening right under his nose—or snout, as the case may be?
After Jaekob said his polite goodbyes to Bells' family, his Guardians escorted him outside to the car. Bells politely accompanied him as well, intent on saying goodbye. Hopefully, the things he had seen would eat at him until he did something to help her family and her village, but if not, she actually found herself feeling better knowing that someone outside of her own kind would remember her and her family.
As they walked, she kept glancing at Jaekob. His shoulders were still slumped, his face troubled. She almost felt bad for the Dragon Prince. What he had seen obviously bothered him a great deal, which spoke well of him as a person as far as she was concerned. She also caught him glancing at her as they walked, but she didn't quite understand his expression when their eyes met, and he looked away each time she caught him looking.
When they got to the car, she said, "Thank you for bringing me home, and for saving my life in Philadelphia. Whatever happens to me and my family in a few days, I want you to know that I appreciate it and I think you're a good person. I hope that someday you'll be in a position to set things right so other fae don't suffer like my family."
He looked away again and took a deep breath, but didn't reply. He just stood there, looking tense and indecisive.
After several seconds of awkward silence, one of his Guardians said, "Sir, it's time to leave. Is there anything else that you need before we go?"
Jaekob held out a hand to her, fingers spread, and pursed his lips. He looked at Bells again and said, "Come with me." He glanced at his Guardians and added, "Stay here."
The Guardian shook his head curtly and said, "Sir, you know we can't do—"
"Silence," Jaekob snapped. "I am the First Councilor’ heir and you will obey me." He clenched his jaw and stared at the Guardian until the man broke eye contact first and nodded.
"Yes, Prince."
The muscles in Jaekob's jaw and neck stood out. A vein throbbed faintly on his forehead. "Bells, would you be so kind as to escort me to your elf foreman?"
She didn't get the feeling it was a request. "Of course."
She walked with him toward the village center. When they were just out of earshot from the others, she begged, "Please don't do this. You're going to get my family killed even faster than the troll."
He pursed his lips, stopped, and gently—even tenderly—wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb, then cupped her face in his hands. They were strong hands, the rough hands of a warrior, yet his touch was so tender that he might have been holding a butterfly.
Heat rose in her cheeks and the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly. He said, "Bells, I'm not going to get you in trouble. Trust me, please. Where is your foreman?"
At his touch, her throat closed up and she barely heard his words over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. "I... he's—I think the pond he's at." No, stupid! Those weren't the right words. She felt suddenly too hot under her collar.
She shook her head to clear those thoughts. What on Earth was wrong with her? "Yes, um. The fish pond." They stared at each other for about five heartbeats, then she spun on her heels and walked toward the nearby stream, feeling grateful he couldn't see her face. The breeze from walking felt good on her overheated neck.
A minute later, the stream appeared ahead. The foreman's fish pond was the largest and all the fae had to work together to take care of it. He sure wasn't going to lift a finger. Why work when he had captive fae? Arrogant son-of-a—
"Is that him?" Jaekob asked, pointing at a hooded figure near the pond holding a fishnet.
She nodded. "That's Nigel, yes."
What the heck was going on with her? When Jaekob stormed toward the man, who had his back to them, she froze for a moment, then scurried into a shadow and frantically started shadow-walking. Elves could detect a hidden fae, but not one using that ability—not unless they were looking right at her and trying to find her.
Jaekob said loudly, "Foreman Nigel. A word, please."
Nigel spun around, face already red with anger and mouth open to scream, until he realized who had dared to speak to him. At Bells' distance, all she could see for sure was that he stood ramrod-straight and bowed his head, but she couldn't hear their words. They spoke only for a minute, then Jaekob pointed toward the village's far end. The elf stormed off in that direction, fists clenched and leaning forward. Woe to the next fae he saw...
Jaekob watched him leave and then came back to where she hid, eyes searching the undergrowth. She let her shadow-walk fall away and he locked eyes with her. "There you are," he said, smiling. "You needn't worry about him anymore."
Sword of Fire (Through the Ashes Book 1) Page 6
