by Bonnie Lamer
Dagda nods. “I know.” He takes a sip of tea, places the cup back in its saucer and stands. “We will take the small carriage I keep here.” It would not be appropriate for the King to arrive in the Daityas village on foot.
Chapter 20
Dagda uses his own magic to power the carriage since all of his drivers are in his larger carriage which has not yet arrived, and we make it to the village in record time. Despite his earlier confidence, I believe my uncle is coming to see that time is of the essence. The longer it takes to find Xandra, the greater the potential of not getting to her in time to save her from whatever danger has found her this time.
Soon, Ellu’s house can be seen in the distance. It’s bigger than Quinn’s, and more ornate. It has elaborate spires and gargoyles on every corner and it shines in the sun as if he has the stones polished regularly. The windows are leaded glass, each of them forming a lily in the center. The oak doors are tall, even for Giants. I have always believed that the house is Ellu’s way of making up for him being smaller than Quinn. If he made it larger and grander than Quinn’s, maybe he himself would feel that way.
We are immediately received by a stately butler. He swings the door open wide before we can knock. He is a younger Giant with brown hair and yellow eyes. I do not remember him from previous visits, so he must be relatively new. He leads us to a comfortable sitting room to wait for Ellu. At least, it would be comfortable for a Giant. The sofa and chairs are much too large for Dagda or I to sit in. My uncle gives the butler a pointed look and the Giant excuses himself to retrieve more suitable furniture. He comes back with a brown leather chair in each hand and he sets them across from one of the larger sofas. These are appropriately sized for Fairies.
It takes a good fifteen minutes for Ellu to make an appearance. Each second that ticks by makes Dagda more and more angry. The King should not be made to wait.
Ellu is not only smaller than Quinn, he is his senior by a good ten years. Today, however, the gap in their ages seems much larger. Ellu looks to have aged decades since the last I saw him. He also does not seem well. He has dark circles under his eyes and a twitchy manner that is unusual for a Giant. He is dressed in striped pajamas and a bathrobe, a fact that does not go unnoticed by Dagda.
“Do you always receive in your pajamas?” he asks Ellu dryly.
Ellu looks down at himself and seems surprised. I believe he forgot that he was wearing bedclothes. Looking back at Dagda, he says, “I apologize. I have been quite preoccupied lately and I am afraid I do not pay attention to such things.”
Dagda is not buying it, but he lets the subject drop and moves to the reason for our visit. “I have come to determine how much you know of my daughter’s whereabouts.”
Ellu is confused. “Daughter?”
“Yes,” Dagda drawls. “My daughter who disappeared earlier today not far from here. I have received information that you may be involved.”
Ellu’s tired eyes darken as his anger roars to life. With a sneer, he says, “That Devas son of a bitch. He puts the blame on me? I will get even with him for this.”
Dagda raises a brow. “Are you declaring war without the backing of your King?” he asks calmly.
Ellu seems to remember who he is speaking to. “Of course not,” he says, his voice lacking any trace of sincerity.
“I have come to this region because of rumors that you have perpetrated attacks on the Devas. That alone is treason, punishable by death, if it proves to be true. Kidnapping my daughter, on the other hand, would be rewarded with a much worse punishment.” The steel is back in my uncle’s voice.
“It is lies!” Ellu sputters. Then his voice begins to trail off. “Lies…um…yes, lies.” His eyes are glazed over now, as if he is losing track of the conversation. Further proof of this is in his next comment. “Forgive me, Sire. Of what were we speaking?”
Dagda scowls. “Do not play games with me, Ellu.”
“Games, Sire?”
Dagda takes a long moment to respond. “Are you well, Ellu?”
Ellu sits up straighter in his chair. “I have never felt better,” he replies but his beleaguered face and the slump of his shoulders belies his statement.
“Ellu, tell me where my daughter is,” Dagda says, his voice a dangerous, threatening tone.
Ellu looks at him again in bewilderment. “I have no knowledge of such things. I was under the impression that you have no children.” As he speaks, his eyes dart around the room as if looking for an escape. I have never seen such odd behavior in a Giant.
Dagda turns to me. “Find the butler that showed us in. I would like to speak with him.”
I nod and rise from my chair. Leaving Dagda alone with Ellu, I go in search of the young Fairy who let us in. I find him just down the hall dusting portraits, giving me the impression that he was listening outside the door. “The King would like a word,” I drawl, knowing full well that he heard Dagda’s request.
“Of course,” he says, placing his dusting cloth on a small table, his face impassive. He holds the door open for me and then follows me into the room.
We find Dagda studying Ellu with more concern than suspicion. When he sees the butler, he says, “Ellu, I believe I have taken enough of your time for now. I will send you word when you are to appear before me to discuss the actions of your Giants.”
Ellu’s face is a combination of surprise and confusion. “Actions?” he asks.
Dagda is ready for this conversation to be over. With impatience, he says, “Go!”
Startled by the harsh tone of his King, Ellu stands up. “Of course,” he says, keeping his back straight and his head high as he walks to the door, behaving more like a Giant than he has in the last ten minutes.
“Sit down,” Dagda says to the butler, which he does immediately. Dagda gets right to the point. “Have you witnessed odd behavior in your Chieftain?”
I cannot help thinking the surprise on the butler’s face looks rehearsed. “No, Sire. My Chieftain is behaving as he always has.” I have met Ellu only half a dozen times and even I know that his behavior today is odd.
My uncle is suspicious, as well. “You are telling me that he regularly receives guests in pajamas and loses his train of thought in the middle of important conversations?”
A slight flush of color stains the butler’s cheeks. “He has, perhaps, been a little forgetful recently.”
“Forgetful?” Dagda says with a raised brow. “He seems to have forgotten that he authorized attacks on the Devas Giants.”
Something races over the butler’s face, but he schools it before I can decipher its meaning. “My Chieftain would never do such a thing,” the butler declares. “He may be…showing some minor symptoms of dementia, but he would never attack the Devas.”
Dagda steeples his fingers and raises both brows now. “Dementia? I thought you had not recognized any change in his behavior.”
The butler flushes. “My apologies, I was simply trying to remain loyal to my employer. For months now, my Chieftain has shown symptoms of the aging disease. But that is further proof that he could not be behind the attacks.”
“How so?” I growl. It seems dementia would be a catalyst, not a road block. “After all, those with dementia lose their short term memories but often remember well the days of long ago. In his mind, he may still be at war with the Devas.”
The butler’s eyes flash. “The entire staff is loyal to our Chieftain. We work hard to prevent him from taking action that would affect the hard won peace we all desire.”
“Then you have no knowledge of acts of violence against the Devas?” Dagda asks him.
The butler shakes his head. “None,” he says, then adds, “But there are always those souls who cannot live in peace. The fringes of society who may have taken it upon themselves to participate in hateful acts.”
Dagda is silent for a long moment. Finally, he says, “You may go.”
I turn angry eyes in his direction. We cannot possibly be done questioning this Giant
. He is obviously hiding something. But all I get in return is an almost imperceptible shake of my uncle’s head. I bite my tongue, disgusted by the metallic taste of blood in my mouth from the effort.
The butler rises. “Is there anyone else you care to speak with, Sire?” he asks.
Dagda shakes his head and rises from his chair. “No, you may show us out.”
“Why are we leaving,” I whisper between gritted teeth.
Dagda walks to the door as if he did not hear me. Bastard.
Chapter 21
I follow my uncle to our carriage that is waiting for us. With each step, it becomes more difficult refraining from acts of violence towards him. If I had come to Ellu on my own, I believe my interrogation would have produced more information. I remain silent as I climb into the carriage and we journey back to Dagda’s house.
When we arrive, Dagda puts a hand firmly on my arm, keeping me from stepping off the carriage. “I do not believe Ellu to be responsible.”
I peer down at his hand and then up to his face, mine burning with fury. “I gathered as much.”
“Kallen,” there is a warning tone in his voice, “you will abide by my judgment.”
“Your judgment?” I spit out. “You speak to Ellu for all of three minutes and then you declare him innocent? Your judgment seems a bit hasty to me.”
Dagda is as furious as I am now. “The Giant cannot string together three sentences without forgetting what the first one was. Do you really believe he is an evil mastermind who engineered the capture of one of the most powerful beings in the universe?!” he asks, his voice rising with each word.
“Perhaps that is true, but what of his butler? That Giant was clearly hiding something. You cannot tell me otherwise.”
“He was being loyal to his Chieftain,” Dagda growls. “A trait I am finding more and more difficult to find in you.”
I pull my arm from his grasp. “Forgive me for wanting to do everything I can to rescue your daughter!”
“Are you accusing me of not caring?” he demands in a low, dangerous voice.
I may have pushed him too far, but I am beyond the ability to remain silent. “Whether you care or not is your concern, not mine. If you will excuse me, I am going to continue searching for Xandra.” Before he can say another word, I shift into my raven form and I take flight.
I fly as high as I can and beat my wings hard, the physical effort helping to ease my anger enough for me to focus. After a while, I slow to an easy rhythm and begin my search. I focus on where Xandra disappeared. I search for any sign of struggle or magic that I may have missed on the ground. I circle the area over and over from different heights but cannot find anything unusual.
Eventually, I widen my flight path in concentric circles. I search the plains for holes or upturned earth. I search for hidden shelters or carriages. Finding nothing, I begin to focus on the Giant villages.
I fly low around the Devas village, barely above the heads of those moving about in the streets. I search buildings and houses, look for any signs of disturbance. Very few buildings have cellars, so I am able to search most of them through windows or open doors. There are several that I think could house a prisoner and I fly through those, annoying the unsuspecting Giants inside. I have to speed up to avoid a couple of brooms and a frying pan. One copper pot manages to hit my tail feathers but I sustain no real injuries.
The Daityas village is much the same. The only thing unusual I find is that some of the Giants appear ill at ease. I guess that makes sense if they know that their Chieftain is not well, but I do not find any traces of malignancy or hatred. The buildings are just as quiet and open as those of the Devas, and the Giants are generally friendly and kind to each other. I cannot find anything amiss.
Widening my search again, I fly around the outside edges of the villages, moving further and further away until I am miles from where I started. Still, nothing. No signs of disturbed trees or wildflowers. No exposed dirt amongst the grasses. There is absolutely no trace of Xandra anywhere.
It is already getting dark when I make it back to Uluru. The Devas Giants are out, patrolling the area as they were the night before. Quinn is with them. I do have to respect the Chieftain for doing what he asks his Giants to do. I still do not have to like him, though.
What I really want to do is change back into my Fairy form and kick his ass, regardless of whether or not he is responsible for Xandra’s disappearance. I am about to do just that when a sparrow charges into my side. Its tiny beak is like a sharp pin between my feathers. I caw loudly and turn on him, chasing him away. I am not in the mood for my cousin.
Unfortunately, he is persistent. He comes at me again and again, nipping at my feathers and feet, trying to steer me away from the Giants. Being smaller than I am allows him a little more flexibility in is turning ratio, making him difficult to dodge. Bastard.
Having enough, I finally fly out of sight of the Giants and land on the ground. Shifting back to my Fairy form, I wait for Kegan to do the same. When he does, he is a good six feet away from me, but I am on him in a flash. Knocking him to the ground, I land a blow before he wrestles me over and takes his own shot. Exhausted from my flight, I find it difficult to block him and end up with his fist on my jaw. With a sudden burst of strength, I throw him from me with magic and pick myself up from the ground. I stalk towards him where he is still lying prone.
He rises before I can reach him and he holds his hands out in front of him, palms forward. “Enough,” he says. “I had to get you away from the Giants before you did something stupid. I know you are insane over Xandra’s disappearance, but this is not helping.”
“I disagree. It is helping me very much.”
Kegan gives me a wry look. “I am thrilled that using me as a punching bag relieves your stress. Regardless, killing me will keep me from aiding in your search.”
That stops me mid-step. “I thought you came to drag me home.”
Kegan cocks his head. “I am not an idiot.” He continues before I can comment. “If it was Alita, I would not stop until she was back in my arms.”
I want to still be angry with him, but I cannot. I believe that he came to help me search, not to drag me back to my uncle. Running a frustrated hand through my hair, I say, “I assume you heard the details from Dagda? You know what happened?”
Kegan nods. “He is still holding onto the hope that her disappearance was voluntary. I do not believe that any more than you do. Xandra would not torture you like that.”
A weight lifts from my chest. “Thank you,” I say. “I know Dagda thinks that I am overreacting, but Kegan, I heard her scream. She did not go willingly.”
“Where have you looked?”
“Everywhere,” I say.
He shrugs. “Then we will look everywhere again.” He moves closer and punches me lightly in the arm. “Your beady little raven eyes cannot see as well as mine.” He laughs at the dirty look I give him.
“Come on,” he says, shifting and then soaring into the air in a heartbeat. I am only a second behind him.
Chapter 22
We fly all night. The darkness is useful for finding campfires and lights used by Giants not in their village limits. We fly to any we see, perching in trees to get a closer look. Mostly what we find are young Giant couples looking for privacy. We quickly determine they do not have anything on their minds other than sex.
Flying through the villages, we focus on buildings that still have their lights on. We peek through windows and doors and by morning, we know more about the kinky sex lives of Giants than our minds can handle. I try to erase the details from my mind but some of them are etched there forever. What we do not find is any trace of Xandra.
By first light, we are exhausted. Neither of us have slept and I have not eaten since the night before last. Hunger drives us back to Dagda’s as morning dawns.
The house is quiet when we enter, even Breena seems not to have woken yet. We decide finding our own breakfast preferable to rousing her.
God knows what she would put in our food if we did that.
It is difficult using the stove as it is made for a Giant’s use. I find myself reaching up to scramble our eggs but I manage. Just as our food is ready, Alita walks into the kitchen. She does not look as if she has slept, either.
“I thought I heard you two. Did you find her?” she asks.
‘She would be with us if we had’ is on the tip of my tongue but I swallow the words. I will not take my anger and frustration out on Alita. “No,” I say around a mouthful of toast.
“I am so sorry, Kallen,” she says quietly.
My eyes flash up at her. “She is not dead,” I growl.
