He was much more polite with her than with Zenia and Rhi.
Bludnor didn’t look like she wanted to budge any more than Rhi did.
“I’ll be right over there if you need my help,” she said.
Heber sniffed and jerked his chin up. “I do not need anyone’s help to talk to a woman.”
Bludnor’s elegantly plucked eyebrows twitched, but she did not respond otherwise. She ambled to the other side of the fountain and sat on it with her back to them. The water splashing into the pool ought to ensure she couldn’t overhear them, but Zenia had no doubt her dragon tear would help her spy.
You’re more powerful than her dragon tear, right? she asked her gem, starting to follow the silent words up with thoughts that would convey the same. But there was no need.
Her dragon tear understood perfectly and shared an image of Bludnor’s gem exploding under a surge of power. Then it shared a hopeful feeling, like a dog eager to be let off its leash.
Zenia had faith that her dragon tear truly was more powerful, not that it was overconfident. Good.
“Give us a few minutes, Rhi.” Zenia touched her friend’s arm. “Thanks.”
“Fine. I’ll just go stand over there.” She pointed her bo at a flagstone mere feet from Bludnor.
“What’s your price, woman?” Heber asked when they were alone.
Zenia blinked. “What?”
“To leave my son alone. Look, you’re a beauty. I’m not blind. I see why he wants you, but you will not wed him. I’m not going to have common children that wouldn’t be suitable heirs for Dharrow Castle and all that it oversees. A lot of people depend on us. I won’t have them abandoned to inferior children after Jev and I are gone.”
Zenia clenched her teeth. She wanted to go back to investigating whatever lay beneath the castle, but she had to deal with this prejudiced bastard first. But how? If she treated him like an enemy and responded to his comments the way she wanted to—the suggestion that she would birth inferior children infuriated her—it would do nothing to help their cause. As much as she loathed the idea of kowtowing to him, she had to try to win him over, or at least win his grudging acceptance. If she was a jerk to him, he would never let Jev marry her.
“How much do I have to pay you to leave him?” Heber added. “I’m sure you have some dream of being made zyndari and living the noble life, but it won’t happen. With money, you can still buy a life of ease and some townhouse in the city.” His lip curled, and she sensed how much it galled him to make this offer, how startled he’d been when Jev had been willing to give up his inheritance and his title for her.
“I don’t want your money, nor do I wish to be zyndari,” Zenia said. “I love Jev because he appreciates me and makes me laugh. And he brings me flowers even though he’s colorblind and struggles to pick out ones that go together.” She smiled at the memory—and Rhi explaining how hard that task had been for Jev—even though she was as tense as a ramrod standing before Heber. “Honestly, I wish he wasn’t zyndar because then we could simply get married without having to deal with your… with zyndar politics.”
Heber’s eyes narrowed. “You asked him to give up his birthright? His duties?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that. I know how much his honor and duties mean to him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about how much easier it would be if we were both common and nobody cared about the quality of our children.” She tried not to clench her jaw again, and she reminded herself once more to be polite, but it was hard.
“He is not common. No amount of fantasizing will change that. He is my heir, my only son now, and it is his duty to marry a zyndari woman and have children who will take care of Dharrow land and its people after our passing. I want what’s best for him and for the family’s future.”
Zenia wished she could see that tether of control now, hinting that Bludnor was manipulating him into speaking this way, but it wasn’t there at the moment. These were Heber’s genuine thoughts.
“Is that why you’re letting that woman manipulate you with her dragon tear?” Zenia asked. “Because you think it’s best for him?”
Heber rocked back on his heels.
Zenia was surprised by his surprise. Had he truly not had any idea? Bludnor couldn’t be with him every moment. In the times when she’d been gone, he must have wondered if all the ideas she was giving him were truly his. Or were they in such close alignment that her manipulation didn’t matter?
“She’s the one you should be worried about,” Zenia said. “Not me. I don’t want anything from you or your estate. I’d be happy to sign paperwork to ensure I never get anything if you wish. I just want Jev to be happy, and I’d like to be happy with him, but if I had to choose his happiness over mine, I’d like to see him…”
The magical tether reappeared as Zyndari Bludnor squinted over her shoulder at them.
Heber didn’t seem to notice it—it was only because of her dragon tear that Zenia noticed—but his lips tightened, and she saw an objection leap into his eyes.
Stop it, please, she silently said to her dragon tear, while envisioning an axe chopping the magical tether.
The gem warmed against her chest, and she sensed a substantial burst of magic rush out of it.
Bludnor yelped and sprang to her feet.
“Ow, ow!” she shouted and tore her dragon tear away from her chest, breaking the thin gold chain that held it. She cried out again and threw it in the fountain, then looked at her hand. A scorch mark was visible on her palm.
A smug satisfied feeling came from Zenia’s dragon tear.
“You attacked her!” Heber lunged forward and snatched Zenia’s arm, startling her.
“No. I was defending you.”
Rhi ran toward Heber, raising her bo.
“No, don’t,” Zenia barked, trying to shift to stand between them as she raised her free hand.
But Heber held her too tightly. Anger flared in Rhi’s dark eyes, and she looked like she would shove Zenia into the fountain if she had to in order to crack Heber over the head.
Her dragon tear flared with blue light, and a wave of power blew outward. Rhi, Heber, and Bludnor were flung backward, along with a couple of nearby soldiers. They sailed several feet and landed on their hips or butts with startled cries.
A rumble sounded, and the ground shook. Hard.
Zenia wobbled, bumping against the lip of the fountain, and almost ended up in the water.
“What are you doing?” she blurted to her dragon tear as the ground continued to shake.
She grabbed the gem, but it had cooled off, and she sensed surprise from it. It may have flung the people threatening her away to keep her from harm, but it wasn’t the reason the ground was shaking. And continuing to shake.
Zenia gripped the lip of the fountain for support. The soldiers in the courtyard spread their legs and arms, trying to keep their balance and remain upright.
Heber rose to a sitting position, his eyes like chips of ice as he glared at Zenia. He thought she was responsible for this.
“It’s not me,” she blurted.
A vision encroached, and she saw that dark chamber under the castle again. The magic that her dragon tear had sensed was growing stronger—coming to life. A crimson glow pushed back the shadows as it grew brighter and brighter.
By the founders, were the elf wardens responsible for that? She remembered the golem from the tower. Were they raising some other magical creature? Something that would threaten all of Dharrow Castle?
“Get her!” Heber roared and pointed straight at Zenia. “Guards!”
Rhi leaped to her feet and stood protectively in front of Zenia. She raised her bo, but guards with rifles ran down from the ramparts and toward them.
Zenia wanted to explain, but she sensed the magic growing stronger down below, the threat increasing. “Rhi, come with me.”
She sprinted for the door that led to the kitchen. Thank the founders, Rhi didn’t argue. She raced after Zenia.
Witho
ut being asked, the dragon tear created a barrier around them. Zenia half-expected the guards to fire, to treat her like a known enemy invader. She lamented that the progress she’d started to make with Heber had likely been destroyed and that he now believed her a threat, not only to his son but to his entire castle.
The ground quaked harder, tossing her against a stone wall as she ran. A thud sounded behind her, and Rhi cursed.
Zenia made herself keep going. She remembered that she’d seen a rockfall blocking the way and worried she wouldn’t be able to get down to the source of the magic in time. Even if she could, would one dragon tear be enough to thwart whatever powerful elven magic or creature was down there?
15
Jev paced while Cutter and Lornysh set traps, occasionally going over to hold something when they asked for assistance. The soldiers were playing chips and smoking, the scent of their cigars pungent and out of place among the earthy vegetation of the woods.
“I’m beginning to think you’re not as enticing a piece of bait as you thought you were,” Jev said to Lornysh’s back.
His friend was crouching, tying branches together in a loop.
“We haven’t been here that long,” Lornysh replied without glancing back.
The light grew dimmer. Jev looked up, thinking a cloud had passed over the sun, but so little light filtered down through the leaves that it wouldn’t have mattered. He realized the massive magical stone had stopped glowing.
Lornysh frowned over at it.
“Does that mean something?” Jev asked.
“It’s gone inactive,” Lornysh said.
“Does that mean something?” Cutter asked, his beard dusting the grass as he worked on some trap of his own.
Lornysh stood and considered the stone. “Assuming it was used shortly before we arrived, enough time has passed for it to go back to its dormant state.”
“So the elves came, used it, and left already?” Jev knew Lornysh had implied that before. What he didn’t know was if his friend’s presence would lure the elves back again.
Lornysh spun away from the stone as if he’d heard something. He stared into the trees. Jev dropped a hand to his pistol.
“Someone coming?” he whispered.
“All of a sudden, I sense a great deal of magic,” Lornysh said.
Cutter stood. “I feel it too.”
Jev felt nothing, but humans didn’t have any innate magic or senses for magic. “Where?”
Cutter and Lornysh gave each other a long look. A long knowing look.
“Where?” Jev repeated, his stomach sinking.
“The castle,” Lornysh said.
Jev almost asked if it might be Zenia using her dragon tear, but if she had a reason to call upon that much magic, something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Back to the castle,” he barked to the soldiers, then raced toward the gully, not waiting for Lornysh to lead the way. He felt like an idiot for having come out here in the first place.
Foliage crunched under heavy boots as the soldiers followed him back down the gully. Men cursed as they slipped on the rocks in the dry creek. Despite the injury that had to be hampering him, Lornysh glided over them and passed Jev. His face was grim with determination, and Jev thought he glimpsed a flash of guilt in his eyes.
As they turned into the wider valley that led back to the spot where they had left their horses, Jev wanted to tell his friend that he’d chosen to be a part of this fight, that he still wanted to make sure these vengeful asses didn’t kill Lornysh.
But Lornysh halted before they came out of the trees and threw up his arms in an abrupt gesture.
The horses were gone, their tethers all cut, but it wasn’t until Lornysh drew his sword and spun toward the valley slope that Jev saw the real threat. The elf with the icy silver sword stood up there. Vornzylar.
He wasn’t wielding his sword; he gripped a drawn bow. Leaves stirred around him—the rest of his buddies?
“Find cover!” Lornysh yelled.
He sprinted toward the opposite valley wall and dove for a boulder.
Vornzylar loosed an arrow. It spun into the ground, missing Lornysh by inches.
“Cover,” Jev repeated the order, scrambling up the same slope, hoping the tree trunks up there were thick enough to protect the soldiers from arrows.
Some of the soldiers returned fire, the reports from their rifles filling the valley. It was a mistake. The elves were shooting from the high ground and from behind cover. They loosed arrows relentlessly while the soldiers’ bullets thudded harmlessly into wood.
A man cried out as Jev ducked behind a tree. He glimpsed the soldier grasping an arrow sticking out of his chest and winced.
“Cark, get your men behind cover!” Jev yanked out his pistol and leaned out from behind his tree, hoping for an opening to fire at Vornzylar.
Arrows continued to rain down from the opposite side of the valley, but the elves were so well hidden that the projectiles seemed to come from the trees themselves.
Three soldiers lay on the valley floor, arrows in their chests or eyes, the deadly precision terrifying. The rest of the men had reached the trees, but Jev didn’t know if it would be enough.
He glimpsed movement, an elf leaning out to shoot. One of the males he’d battled in the tower.
Jev fired as the elf did, but his target was already leaning back. His bullet clipped the tree trunk beside where the elf’s head had been and bark flew. Jev growled in disgust. Beating up bark wouldn’t help with anything.
“Brace yourselves,” someone—Cark?—yelled.
A metal projectile arched across the valley toward the elves. A grenade? Jev hoped so. That might be effective.
He winced when an arrow sailed out, striking the grenade and knocking it from its trajectory. But it exploded close enough to the elves’ trees that branches flew. The roar echoed up and down the valley.
Jev leaned out again, hoping he could catch one of the elves scurrying for cover farther up the slope. He spotted someone, a hand gripping a bow all that was visible.
Fearing it would be the best target he would get, Jev fired. This time, his aim was true, and his bullet pierced flesh. The elf swore and dropped his bow as he jerked his hand back behind cover.
Before Jev could feel any satisfaction, Vornzylar leaned out and pierced him with his icy eyes. The elf pointed his glowing silver sword at Jev, as if promising his death.
At first, Jev didn’t worry, since they were almost a hundred yards apart. Then an invisible blast of energy slammed into him.
He flew a dozen feet into the air before landing on his back, all the air blasting from his lungs. He was out in the open, and he knew he had to scramble for cover again, but his body was too stunned to obey his mind. Another elf took aim at him from across the valley.
Jev rolled to the side, his lungs refusing to draw in the air he needed to cry for help. A hand gripped him as a hook slid under his armpit. He was yanked toward a boulder as an arrow slammed into the earth where his head had been.
“Common sense says it’s a bad idea to irk elves,” Cutter observed, releasing him.
Jev finally managed to gasp in a breath. “What about when elves irk humans?”
“That’s rarely as deadly.”
Another grenade exploded near the elves. Trees blew up, branches and leaves flying everywhere, and Jev grimaced at the destruction to his family’s property. But he kept the image of the dead soldiers in his mind and knew this was a necessity. Unfortunately, the grenades seemed to be destroying trees without hurting any of their enemies.
“Lornysh,” Jev called to the boulder where his friend crouched, returning fire with his own bow. “Can you communicate with Zenia or her dragon tear at all? Find out if they can send help? I’d settle for my father with some more men with grenades.”
He assumed from the way they were being thrown one at a time that the soldiers hadn’t brought that many.
“Do you keep those in your family’s armory?” Cutter
asked.
“Of course, don’t you?”
“The people in your castle are busy with their own problem,” Lornysh called back. Then he switched to hand gestures that wouldn’t be visible from the far side of the valley. They seemed to translate to, “Cover me, and I’ll try to sneak around to deal with Vornzylar.”
Jev shook his head. Lornysh couldn’t be the one to deal with Vornzylar. Even if he hadn’t been injured, he’d already proven he couldn’t kill his fellow elf.
Jev issued his own hand gestures as arrows continued to fly and rifle fire rang out. He tried to tell Lornysh to cover him and that he would sneak around. He would have no problem shooting that elf.
Lornysh shook his head vehemently, then leaned out to fire as one of the wardens briefly appeared to loose more arrows. Surely, the elves would run out of ammunition soon. Maybe Jev should simply wait. When their quivers were empty would be the time to charge. His team would still have to deal with those wicked magical swords, but maybe they would have a chance against the elves then. Jev’s people did have the numbers advantage.
“Let’s try to circle around and sneak up behind them,” Jev whispered to Cutter.
“I don’t know if you’ve seen me try to sneak, Jev, but Lornysh says it sounds like an elephant walking across roasted acorns.”
“With all the noise from the soldiers, they won’t hear us coming.” Jev hoped. He pointed higher up the valley wall behind them. He and Cutter could climb up there, race back the way they had come, then across the valley and to the far side. It would take time, but they were at a stalemate now, and they might be able to surprise the elves from behind. “Do you have any magic you can use against them?”
“You want me to carve them a nice gem?” Cutter asked.
An arrow sped past, skipping off the side of the boulder inches from Jev’s head. He ducked lower and shifted more fully behind their cover. Unfortunately, the boulder wasn’t that large, and two of them hunkered behind it.
“We have to do something.” Jev worried about what was going on at the castle—what if this was simply a diversion?
Elven Fury (Agents of the Crown Book 4) Page 22
