Stone Blood Legacy

by Jayne Faith

“Well, he didn’t take all of it,” she said, slurring slightly. “No need to be such a sour apple.”

  She was clearly feeling the after-effects of allowing Morven to suck away some of her magic. That, mixed with the very strong Fae beer was making her glazed and silly.

  Morven was slowly wiping a rag over the wet rings left by frosty mugs.

  “Hello, Petra Maguire,” he said in his deep voice. “Don’t worry, I left her plenty for herself.”

  Ignoring Morven, I drew magic and probed around her, trying to discern how much Morven had sucked away. Her power didn’t seem diminished by too noticeable an amount. I just had to hope she hadn’t given away any special skills. But if she had, it was too late anyway.

  Gretchen wiggled out of my grasp. “He told me where my mark is! How great is that? I was just waiting for you to show up.”

  She tried to push her stool back from the bar, but it tipped onto two legs, and she nearly toppled backward. I caught the seat with one hand and righted her before she fell. She managed to get her feet on the floor without falling on her face. I took her shoulder and steered her toward the exit. She flicked little waves to the Fae we passed on the way, as if she and they were old friends. I swiped a glass of water off one of the tables and carried it outside. As soon as we were clear of the door, I tossed the water at Gretchen’s face.

  She shrieked and pushed her fingers into her closed eyelids, swiping the water away.

  “Sober up,” I commanded.

  She just stared at me, her mouth hanging open. Then she blinked a few times and wiped her face with her sleeve.

  “Sorry,” I said, setting the glass to one side of the door. “We don’t have time to dick around. We’ve got to find your mark and get back to Jasper.”

  Giving her head a shake, she widened her eyes and looked suitably more lucid.

  “No, it’s okay,” she said. She looked at me deadpan. “I think I needed that.”

  I cracked a small grin. “Where’s the mark?”

  “In a hotel in the direction of the Dugger—Derger . . . the castle in this realm.” She looked at me helplessly. “I can’t say it right.”

  “It’s Duergar. Know the name of the establishment?” I asked.

  She raised her arm, turning it so she could look at the pen scrawls on the inside of her wrist. “Blue Boar Tavern and Inn.”

  I nodded. Good. I knew the place, about a mile from the Duergar palace. If I kept my head down, I should be able to get in and out before anyone had time to spot me and report to King Periclase. “It’s a hike from here, but it’ll give you time to sober up some more.”

  I angled down a street that was designated horse-and-cart only. Most of the streets in the Old World Faerie territories weren’t wide enough to accommodate modern cars. Some territories didn’t allow autos at all, which always made me feel like I was on the set of some new section of Disneyland. But it was all authentic. Many of the buildings and cobblestone walkways were almost as old as the Fae. If Oberon ever decided to open Faerie to human tourists, the kingdoms would make a killing.

  I kept a swift pace as we walked through the Duergar streets and faced away any time we encountered anyone. I didn’t have to worry about the people who’d seen me at the Aberdeen—Morven might not be completely trustworthy, but his regulars weren’t snitches. He was picky about who he allowed to patronize his pub, and no one who had Morven’s favor wanted to lose it.

  “What did I do?” Gretchen asked after about ten minutes of walking. Her head had been on a swivel, but it appeared the novelty and her buzz were starting to wear off. “Back there. What did I do when I agreed to pay the price for the information Morven gave me?”

  “You let him siphon some of your magic,” I said bluntly.

  She pressed a palm into her chest and rounded her shoulders forward, as if she could still feel the sensation of paying Morven’s price.

  “Oh, God,” she said, looking a little sick.

  “You’ll be okay,” I said. “But you have to be very careful with such things in Faerie. Very careful. Some Fae know how to use the right turns of phrase to get you to promise your life away without much effort.”

  “That’s just creepy,” she said. “I can’t believe he took some of my magic. I can’t believe I let him.”

  We were on a busier road, and every time I passed someone I tucked my head down into the collar of my jacket or turned my face into one side of my hood.

  “Don’t feel too bad about it. You got something you needed in return, and you’re none the worse as far as I can tell.” I peered at her sidelong for a second. “Feels pretty damn awful when it’s happening, though, doesn’t it?”

  “You’ve made deals with Morven?”

  I dipped my chin in a nod. “More than once. But he won’t make deals with just anyone. You must have a special kind of magic. Something he covets.”

  She shuddered. “What does he do with the magic he collects?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. As far as I can tell, he never leaves the Aberdeen, and I’ve never seen him use magic, except to collect it from others. I’ve never even heard a story about him wielding magic.”

  “He must be saving it all up for something,” she said quietly, and shivered again.

  I frowned, considering the possibilities. “If he actually has the ability to save and then wield all that he’s collected over his lifetime, that would make him one of the most powerful Fae ever.”

  She made a little groaning noise low in her throat. “If that ever happens, I hope we’re on the same side.”

  “Me too,” I said. I gestured ahead. “Just another couple of blocks.”

  Just as the words left my lips, there was a series of booms like small thunder claps that seemed to come from all directions. I stopped short, whipping around to find the source of the noises. Others on the street looked equally confused.

  A couple of seconds later, hulking, tusked ogres began pouring in from the side streets.

  My pulse kicked as I caught sight of the huge battle axes they wielded.

  “Oh, shit,” I breathed.

  I grabbed Gretchen’s arm and wheeled around, already springing into a run and drawing Mort. But ogres were closing in from the rear, too. There had to be at least fifty already on our block, and they were stampeding, swinging their axes. One of them sliced through the neck of a part-Spriggan woman who was too slow to react.

  I summoned my stone armor and pushed magic into my sword. Violet flames erupted along the blade.

  “Your magic!” I shouted at Gretchen.

  But then I glimpsed her panicked face and remembered she’d just “donated” to Morven. She was too weak to protect herself.

  The ogres were closing in. I backed up against the nearest storefront, shoved Gretchen behind me, and lifted Mort.

  Chapter 8

  THE OGRES WERE easily twice my breadth shoulder to shoulder and towered two feet taller than me. They were fearsome brutes, with tiny, beady eyes and horns laid back on their heads as if they’d been slicked over their skulls.

  I summoned my stone armor and sent a stronger surge of magic into my sword. I wasn’t going to be able to hold the armor for long. I’d pulled it a couple of times in the past day, and I’d need some regenerative magic soon before my ability started to sputter out. Purple flames of power flared out from the blade. I swung at the ogre charging me. The magic reached beyond Mort and slashed like razor blades where it touched the ogre. Face, torso, down to his left thigh, my magic hit home. The other ogres stopped short, hesitant to come within the blade’s reach.

  The one I’d cut let out a roar, dropping his axe and grabbing at the eye I’d sliced. I lunged and drove Mort into his torso. Smoke began to rise from the ogre’s fingertips and ears, and in the next second he dissipated in a cloud of sooty residue. His axe vanished with him.

  Instead of scaring the other ogres, the disappearance of their comrade just seemed to piss them off. Three of them charged me at once with their axes
raised, bearing almost identical snarls.

  Mort whipped through the air, deflecting axes and opening wounds, but I was barely holding them off. More crowded in trying to get at us, and in the press of bodies a few of them began fighting with each other.

  The blade of a battle axe slammed my forearm hard enough to make my entire body ring. My armor kept it from breaking skin, but there would be a nasty bruise. Grinding my teeth against the pain, I refocused my defense.

  Behind me, Gretchen had drawn a wisp of magic, and was using it to help deflect the hits. She didn’t have enough power to form a true shield, but changing the angle of the axes that got close enough to threaten me was enough to make the blows glance off my armor instead of slam edge-on into me. My clothes were going to be sliced to shreds. That beat having my body carved up. But she was weak from paying Morven, and I could tell she was running out of steam.

  “See any escape?” I grunted at her through gritted teeth.

  “We’re up against a wall, and the nearest door is twenty feet to the right,” she said.

  Shit.

  Bugle calls suddenly blasted through the air loud enough to make me wince. Some of the ogres looked around in alarm. Then the explosions began. Right away, I recognized the neon yellow sparks of spitfire. It was an innocuous-sounding name for an extremely volatile gravel-like substance mined from deep in the ground of Faerie that the Duergar had weaponized.

  I took advantage of the confusion.

  “Come on,” I said over my shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  We side-stepped along the wall to the door she’d spoken of. The ogres had paused their fighting, which opened up some space. It seemed they’d forgotten about us, their attention turned to the spitfire.

  We made it into the alcove but found the door locked. I swung Mort at the handle, but the blade just clinked and slid off, not even leaving a divot in the metal. Trying to break the pane of glass in the door also proved fruitless. It must have been magically sealed against intruders.

  I growled in frustration and faced the street. “Okay, next move.”

  Before I had a chance to locate other escape options, there was a piercing, hot sizzle and a streak of yellow through the air.

  “Get down!” I hollered at Gretchen a fraction of a second before the explosive hit the street.

  I turned my back and tucked my head, shielding her with my body and trying to protect my face.

  The spitfire explosion was so close we were blasted with air a split second before the heat and magic washed over us. I screamed out when the burn hit my exposed skin. It even seemed to seep through my armor, and it was agonizing, like pins dancing over every nerve.

  When it dissipated, I straightened and turned to survey the damage. The street was clear of ogres—live ones, anyway—and the face of one of the buildings across the street was completely gone. The interior was exposed, and the whole thing smoked from several singe points. If we hadn’t made it to the alcove, we probably wouldn’t have survived the blast.

  One by one, the ogre corpses shriveled and disappeared.

  My eardrums still numb and ringing from the blast, I turned to see how Gretchen had fared. She looked up at me with stunned eyes. She’d gotten scraped up, but I couldn’t see any spitfire burns.

  She stood slowly and swallowed hard when she saw the wreckage. “You saved my life,” she said, blinking dazedly.

  “We can get all misty about that later,” I said. “We need to get out of here before the Duergar military shows up and someone recognizes—”

  “Too late,” she cut in and pointed.

  I twisted around. Duergar soldiers were already filling the street, and about half a dozen of them broke off, heading straight for us. There was nowhere for us to go. Once again, we were trapped.

  When I caught sight of the magi-zappers the guards brandished, I sheathed Mort. The last thing I needed was to get knocked out and carried off to Periclase’s palace. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of this, but I wouldn’t be able to do anything if I were unconscious. I couldn’t antagonize them.

  The six guards formed a semi-circle, enclosing us in the alcove. But they didn’t make a move. Then another figure appeared behind them.

  My chest clutched. It was King Periclase. He was in full battle gear, with one of his signature capes cascading over his broad shoulders and down his back.

  Damn it. Someone had managed to spot me and report my presence to the palace in the short time we’d been on the streets.

  “Stall them for a minute,” Gretchen whispered. “I’m going to make us disappear. Just hang on.”

  I flicked a questioning glance at her but didn’t have a chance to respond.

  The guards shifted so Periclase could stride within the arc they’d formed. The Cataclysm had left Periclase with a face that was stone across the temple next to his left eye, over the cheekbone, and along the jawline on that side. He also had one hand that was curled into a permanent stone fist. The Cataclysm had given him New Gargoyle blood, but in a way that was almost useless. He had those permanent areas of rock armor and lacked the ability to summon more armor on the rest of his body. Still, the permanent stone on his face made an already intimidating figure that much more fearsome.

  He moved closer and closer, clearly meaning to rattle me by invading my personal space. My hand itched to reach for Mort, but I kept my arms at my sides. Drawing my sword against a king wouldn’t end well for me. I stood my ground as he stopped almost toe-to-toe with me.

  He peered down, locking my eyes with his steely gaze.

  “You shouldn’t have returned to my realm,” he said very softly, bending over until his face was nearly level with mine. “Daughter.”

  I stiffened, and my breath died in my throat.

  Periclase raised one hand, and it was obviously a signal. His men began closing in. “It’s a good thing Darion didn’t kill you in the battle of champions,” he continued, keeping his voice low, his words meant only for me. “Now that I know you’re mine, you’re valuable.”

  I started to shake my head, but before he could say another word, the world went blurry and distorted as if I were looking through a glass of water.

  “Stay low and move,” Gretchen hissed at me. “Keep right next to me.”

  It took me a second to react, but when I saw Periclase’s head whipping around in confusion and the guards muttering and shifting, I realized what Gretchen had done.

  She’d actually made us disappear. Or at least become invisible to the men.

  I couldn’t imagine how she’d managed it, still weak from having her magic siphoned. She was either an incredibly fast healer, a hell of a lot more powerful than I’d realized, or both. At that moment, I didn’t really care what the explanation was. We slipped in between two of the guards, and then she took off running with me hot on her heels.

  She flipped me a reproachful look over her shoulder. “You should have told me it was so dangerous for you to be here. I’d have used this spell from the start.”

  “If I’d known you could make us invisible, I would have,” I said. “And how the hell did you recover so fast?”

  “I’ve always been quick to bounce back,” she said, quirking a little smile.

  “How long can you hide us?”

  “I can hold it another ten minutes. If I can turn it off for a couple of breaks, I’ve probably got a half hour in me.”

  “Damn,” I said with true admiration, suddenly wishing I had human magic.

  Much of Faerie magic was traditionally for helping Fae deceive humans. Glamour, mesmerization, and similar powers, most of which didn’t work on other Fae. Useful when I was on the Earthly side of the hedge, but not so much in Faerie. I was exceptionally strong in magic for a New Garg but had a fairly short list of skills—stone armor, a handful of different spells related to my shadowsteel spellblade, and a few other minor tricks. Human magic, on the other hand, was incredibly versatile.

  I glanced up at a clock tower as we passed a
quaint little town square.

  “We’ve only got a half hour before we need to get back to the Spriggan realm,” I said. “It would be good if you can hold out that long so we actually make it out.”

  “Which way to the Blue Boar?” she asked.

  Right, the mark. In the confusion of the attack and the shock of Periclase’s words, I’d nearly forgotten.

  “No time,” I said with a pang of regret. “It’ll take us twenty minutes to get back to the doorway in the Aberdeen.”

  “That rock-faced guy knows you’re here now,” she said, referring to Periclase. “We can’t use that doorway anyway because that’s where we came in. I can’t hold the invisibility spell all the way back there.”

  We’d slowed to a side-by-side jog. At the mention of the Duergar king, Periclase’s words came back to me again, and I shivered. He’d called me “daughter.” If he knew I was Nicole’s sister, that meant he’d discovered a secret that only a handful of people in the world knew. And one of them, my mother, was dead. But that was just conjecture. I wasn’t certain he knew Nicole was my twin. The main question in my mind was whether he truly was my blood father, as he clearly believed. I was starting to think the possibility wasn’t as remote as I’d assumed.

  “Petra? Still here?”

  I gave my head a shake, forcing my mind back to the conversation. “The only other two doorways I know are too close to the Duergar palace,” I said. Then I brightened. “But that won’t matter if we’re invisible whenever we pass someone, and we’ll be away from the roads, so you won’t have to hold the spell the whole way.”

  She grinned at me.

  “We’re still going to have to haul ass, though,” I said.

  I took the lead, weaving us through the streets to the Blue Boar Tavern and Inn.

  Periclase’s words played through my head again and again like background music in my mind.

  I ducked into a narrow alley.

  “We’re almost there,” I said. “Take a quick break.”

  She dropped her magic, and the world sharpened around us. We stood with our backs against the wall, inhaling the faint aroma of trash from the bins farther down.