Redeemed by Rubies (A Dance with Destiny Book 6)

by JK Ensley

  “No need for your thanks, my Lady. Serving you is a pleasure I do not deserve.” He took the teacup just as she emptied it. “I have drawn you a bath. Alas, as is all things here, it is cold. Would you like to stand while I bathe you, or will you dare to brave the tub?”

  “I’ll give it a try.” She smiled at the Drowl. “You don’t have to dote on me so. I can bathe myself.”

  “No, my Lady.” He lowered his head. “Please allow me the honor… please.”

  When she didn’t answer, he slowly looked back up and met her uneasy gaze.

  “Ardune, the last time I let a man bathe me… things did not turn out so well.” She glanced at the tub and back to him. “He tricked me. Lied to me. Made me fall in love with him.” She sighed softly. “I killed him,” she whispered. “Dante deserved it… and I deserved the punishment I earned for that vengeful act.”

  “Well… it’s a good thing I am a Drowl and not a man.”

  When she still hesitated, Ardune slowly slipped his tunic off. Jenevier stared at the onyx-colored creature. There was nothing upon his body to mark his gender, not even nipples upon his chest. He was a shell… a doll. She slowly reached out and ran her fingers over his skin. It was true that his flesh looked like onyx—as black as the stone itself—but it felt as soft as fine velvet.

  “You are perfect, aren’t you, Ardune? The perfect Guardian for any young girl… a gentle smile, an almost compulsive need to pamper, not too large, not too tiny, and as soft as a child’s first toy.” She smiled. “You remind me of my stuffed bunny, Bixby. Papa bought him for my second name day. He had black velvety fur, and his eyes were silver buttons. I loved him immediately. He was my best friend. I carried him around with me everywhere. I couldn’t get a wink’s sleep if he wasn’t at my side. I had him right up until the moment I had to leave Tamar Broden. If I close my eyes right now… the feel of you sends those precious childhood memories flooding back to me.”

  “And I can sing, too,” he whispered, smiling. “I would be honored to be your Bixby, your doll, your comforter. You are safe with me, my Lady. Although I may not look it to your eyes, I am strong—an ancient warrior of renown and respect. Place your trust in me, Jenevier. Let me do what it is I was formed to do.”

  *****

  When she shivered again, Ardune wrapped yet another blanket around her shoulders.

  “It’s because your curls are yet wet,” he softly said. “Perhaps we should only wash your hair on occasion.”

  “No way, Drowl.” She sort of snorted. “If I don’t wash it daily, it turns into a tangled mess—unmanageable by any creature. I can handle a daily chill or two.”

  He twisted another sodden curl around his finger before gently releasing it.

  “I will admit,” he said, smiling as he continued in his task. “My former Lady’s locks hung long and straight.” He met her gaze in the mirror. “I like the change… means I get to pamper you a bit longer.”

  Jenevier smiled. “Let me guess… King Thacius’s daughters were spoiled beyond all reason, hard to manage by even the most worshipping of husbands.”

  “They were spoiled, yes. Yet, that is a Drowl’s duty. Besides, once you are given charge of a Lady, she is yours always… husband or no.”

  Jenevier popped another piece of fruit in her mouth. “Then I don’t understand why you are waiting here in Sheol. If I had the power, there would be Drowls upon every layer of this universe.”

  Ardune stopped twisting her curls and smiled down at her. “From your lips to Father’s ears, my Lady,” he whispered softly.

  Ahriman stepped into the cave just as Ardune was beginning to dress her. The soul-eater stopped dead in his tracks, staring.

  “Turn around, Angel,” Ardune grumbled. “This feast is not for your eyes. You are unworthy the honor. Even if you do not possess a single ounce of decorum, please try to act a tiny bit respectable.”

  “Mind your tongue, Drowl,” Ahriman said through a growl.

  When the gawking soul-eater stomped purposefully toward them, shoving Ardune to the side, Jenevier’s anger was kindled. She didn’t make a single sound as she drew back and punched the dark Angel right in the jaw.

  “Never touch my Drowl,” she hissed.

  In the next second, she sucked air in through her teeth and grimaced.

  “Holy stars in the merciful heavens!” She grabbed her right hand and held it against her chest. “Owww… That hurt like hell. I think I broke my finger.”

  Ardune reached for her, but Ahriman was faster.

  “Broke your finger? How in the universe is that even possible?”

  “It is possible because she is human now, Angel. Move and let me see to her.”

  “Back off, Drowl.” Ahriman growled at the other man. “I know she is human. Yet, she was but a woman when she walked into hell. As a mere human, this precious Lady of yours nearly defeated our Prince.”

  Ardune gasped. “…Apollyon?”

  “I did defeat him,” Jenevier said, frowning.

  “Then… how is it you are injured now, my Lady?”

  “Well…” She furrowed her brow. “I think that is the first time I have ever punched someone. I always used my claws.”

  “Hmpft… some Death Angel,” Ahriman mumbled. “If your finger is broken, it’s because of this damn ring. Where in the universe did you get such a monstrosity?”

  He tried tugging on it, but she cried out.

  “Stop it! That hurts!”

  Ahriman spotted the sparkling invisible thread attached to it. “Angel hair,” he whispered, looking up at her. “This is Michael’s doing, isn’t it?”

  “It is the tangible symbol of a treasured blessing,” she said, moving away from them both. “Just quit messing with it. I’ll be fine.”

  “It certainly doesn’t seem that way to me,” Ahriman said. “And after I hurried here with what I thought was promising news…”

  “What news?” Jenevier prodded when he didn’t continue.

  “I was devising a way for you to redeem yourself… via battle.”

  “Meaning?” she pressed.

  “Meaning… you should have the right to win back your own fate.” Ahriman glanced toward the Drowl and then back to Jenevier. “It was decided that whomever is the ultimate victor in the arena, you will have the right to challenge them… redeem yourself, if you so choose.”

  Jenevier snorted. “Like I needed your permission for such a thing as that. Of course I would fight whoever tried to take ownership of me. If you aren’t strong enough to claim your prize, then you are no victor.”

  “These were my exact thoughts as well,” Ahriman mumbled. “But after this…”

  The silver-eyed soul-eater sat some food down on the table. Ardune hurriedly fixed her clothing, then began properly setting her plate.

  “Did you enjoy the noodles?” Ahriman quietly asked.

  “Very much, yes. They are even better than the ones Mika fixes. Where in the universe did you get them?”

  “On Earth.” He looked away. “I heard Lala tell your sell-sword they were the best she’d ever had.”

  Jenevier didn’t say anything as Ahriman turned and left.

  *****

  “Aren’t you going to finish?”

  Jenevier looked to Ardune, and then down to her unfinished lunch. “He brings too much. Two grown men couldn’t finish it.” She smiled. “You shamed him, didn’t you, Ardune?”

  “I spoke true to the Angel. If he felt shame, it was of his own doing.” He paused a moment. “When you named me your Drowl… it made my chest hurt.”

  “Apologies for that, Brother. The way I said it, the way I acted as if you belonged to me… that was horrible. Forgive me.”

  “Do not ask for forgiveness, my Lady. Your words filled me with pride.”

  “Yeah, well… I’m not sure how I feel about that. Many there are that have served me, sworn allegiance to me, stood by my side in times of need. But never without their consent. My heart… my heart tells me th
at no creature should be owned.”

  “You do not own me, my Lady… you honor me. Thus is my purpose. Allowing me to be your Drowl… it makes me truly happy. Besides, Ahriman would die for the chance to get to touch you, bathe you, feed you as I do. I like that, too—making the soul-eater jealous. Not a bad life, eh?”

  Jenevier smiled to herself.

  “How is your hand, my Lady?”

  “Better. I don’t think I broke anything. But that was one painful lesson, to be sure.”

  “Why didn’t you use your claws? If you are accustomed to fighting thusly, why did you not use them on Ahriman? Did they abandon you when your Grace ebbed?”

  “I suppose they did,” she mumbled. “Ardune, if it is true that I am human only, then I should be able to leave here without fighting. The Archs told me there was a way back for humans who find themselves stuck in this place.”

  “That is true.” The Drowl nodded. “You only need someone to replace you. But it has to be an equal exchange.”

  “Ugh… that again, huh?”

  “Yes, my Lady. The Law of Equivalent Exchange is a given throughout most Otherworlds. If you want to walk out of Sheol, a soul equal to your own must take your place.”

  “And therein lies the problem, Drowl. I would never let a creature of light take my place. A decent soul doesn’t deserve to suffer in my stead.”

  “And yet… a creature of the darkness could never be your equal.”

  “Yes, ‘tis true.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a decent person, though… just a human. A human soul for a human soul.” Ardune smiled. “For instance, Ahriman couldn’t do it. Not because he’s dark, but because he is Angel. A human for a human. That’s the loophole here.”

  “…I see.” She sighed. “Well, looks like there’s no getting around it then. I’ll have to fight. But first, I need to pray.”

  “For what? Strength?”

  Jenevier smiled. “No, Ardune. Father has blessed me with more of that than I ever deserved.”

  “Then… what will you ask for?”

  “I will plead with Father… ask Him to turn His head—ignore what is now happening in Sheol.”

  “But… why?”

  “Because, my friend, whatever happens here, whether I am claimed or no… I want it all to be for naught. I will beg Father not to grant any of their requests on my behalf. I wish not to be used as coin. If someone wins me, we will go from there. But I do not want their demands of Father to be regarded.”

  “…Remove your value,” Ardune whispered.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “Perhaps when they realize they cannot push the One God around, they will lose interest in me.”

  “If you are of no worth…”

  “Then I will become tiresome for them, yes. And believe me, Ardune. I do not make a good prisoner. It is not within me to be a willing slave.”

  “If you survive this crucible… if you yet live when all is said and done… if no one is able to claim you or Father turns a blind eye to their requests… will you stay with me, my Lady? If you win your freedom, yet refuse to let another human take your place here… will you let me stay by your side, be your Drowl?”

  Jenevier smiled. “I would demand it be so.”

  When she giggled, Ardune blushed… even though Jenevier couldn’t tell it.

  “Yes.” He nodded and smiled. “I would demand it be so as well, my Lady.”

  She stood then and sighed. “When my prayers are through, I wish you to take me back to the arena, Ardune. If my end comes, let it come today. I will not cower in a cave for years on end. I will hasten this tournament… by any means necessary.”

  Chapter 23

  Gilbad

  (GILL-bad)

  Jenevier followed the Drowl down the tunnels below the arena. She took her time, studying the creatures making ready for their next battle. Their weapons were as varied as were their wrappers.

  “Wow,” she whispered. “Father loves wondrous variety, does He not?”

  “Indeed He does,” Ardune said. “But don’t let their size fool you, my Lady. Just because they are large, doesn’t mean they are strong.”

  She smiled. “Gratitude… but I learned a long time ago not to judge with my eyes alone.”

  The Drowl turned back to face her. “Ahriman is one such creature—elegant and beautiful… physically perfect in every way.”

  “Yes, he is. But on the inside he’s…” She paused.

  “A rotting menagerie of dead men’s bones.”

  Jenevier nodded. “For the most part… yes.”

  “Hey! There’s the girl.”

  Jenevier turned toward the Troll as he spoke.

  “Guntra, come here.”

  Another Troll joined the first.

  “It’s the sunshine girl.”

  Guntra licked his parched lips. “Yeah, that’s her alright. I wonder, Raegar…”

  “Huh? Wonder about what?”

  “I wonder if she tastes like sunshine.”

  Jenevier smiled. “If sunshine tastes like fire, then yes. Yes, I do.”

  “Huh?” Raegar looked confused. “You taste like fire?”

  “I am fire.” She bowed in her Dragon manner and smiled again.

  Guntra scrunched up his face. “I shouldn’t like to eat fire, Brother. What else could we do with her?”

  “You could talk to me,” Jenevier said, sitting down on the bench between the two large creatures. “I quite like to talk.”

  “What’s wrong with your face?” Raegar asked.

  Jenevier touched her sapphire scar. “A Guardian struck me there once… brought me back to my senses.”

  “Yeah?” He furrowed his brow. “Why’s it blue?”

  “A man I once loved… he healed it for me.”

  “Like that?” Guntra asked. “He patched you up by turning you blue?”

  “Yep.” Jenevier displayed the many on her arms, then pointed to her throat as well. “Everywhere you see sapphires upon me, that’s where Vindicus healed me.”

  “There’s too many to count,” Raegar grumbled.

  Jenevier chuckled. “Yeah… I used to get hurt a lot.”

  “Who hurt you?” Guntra asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Lots of people. Through the years, I have crossed blades with too many to number… not without going mad in the process.”

  The Trolls burst out laughing.

  “You? Wielding a blade? You’re too tiny to fight.”

  One of them lifted her arm and felt of her biceps, the other then followed suit.

  “You’re just a wee thing, aren’t ya?” Raegar said softly.

  “Well… I might be small, but I don’t wear this sword upon my back for decoration alone.” She glanced up at one and then the other. “If a creature is gonna don a weapon, they best know how to use it. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  The Trolls nodded in unison.

  “And as far as being tiny goes… that often works to my advantage. Big guys don’t take me too seriously—let their guards down. That’s when I go in for the easy kill.” She smiled sweetly. “I prefer the easy kill.”

  The two Trolls just stared at her. They didn’t speak, but they were no longer laughing.

  “Take Ardune for instance,” she said, motioning toward the waiting Drowl. “He isn’t much bigger than me, and he is a warrior of renown.”

  “That’s because he is Drowl,” Guntra grumbled. “They’re all like that.”

  “Yeah,” Raegar said. “Quick little mushrooms, they are.”

  Jenevier chuckled. “Well, ya see there? You should never judge a creature by their size alone. It could prove deadly. I could prove deadly.”

  The Trolls glanced at each other, but didn’t say anything.

  “So… why are you boys here, anyway? Why did you want to win me? Do you have something special you wish from Father?”

  “Naw,” Raegar said. “We were just bored, that’s all.”

  “Bored, huh?”

 
“Yeah. There’s not much to do in Sheol.”

  “Well, what were your plans if you won?”

  “I dunno,” Raegar said. “Your hair looks like the sun. We don’t get to see the sun anymore.”

  “Yeah,” Guntra added. “We wanted to look at you for a while, then see what you tasted like. But… if we can’t eat you, we’ll just have to play with you.”

  Jenevier chuckled. “I don’t play nice, Brothers. You might want to rethink that just a bit.” When neither spoke, she went on. “You know there can be only one winner, right? As big and strong as the two of you are… what will you do if you’re the last ones standing? Will you draw your weapons on one another just for the chance to look at me for a while?”

  Both Trolls quickly glanced at each other, then down to their hands.

  “Have you been friends since you were little?” she asked.

  “We’re brothers,” Guntra mumbled.

  “Brothers? Why in the universe would you risk harming your brother just to get a chance to look at me?” She jumped up. “Look at me, then. Go on. Look all you want. I don’t mind. Here… touch my sunny curls. Go on. Touch them.”

  When the Trolls slowly obeyed, they took special care not to be too rough. Still, their clumsy fondling almost gave her a headache.

  “There now,” she said when they had finished. “Was that worth trading your brother’s life for?”

  “No.” Raegar grumbled. “It’s not like sunshine. It’s not even warm.”

  “That’s because it’s hair… just hair. And I’m just a girl—nothing special at all.”

  The Troll brothers shuffled their feet a bit before Guntra finally stood.

  “Come on, Raegar. I’m hungry.”

  “Yeah,” the other said through a snort. “Let’s go see what we can find.”

  “You want something?” Guntra said, turning back to her.

  Jenevier held up her hands. “No thanks.” She smiled. “I ate with Ardune before we came over. Appreciate the offer, though.”

  She watched the two giants lumber away; mumbling to one another as they slowly disappeared into the darkness.

  “You are cunning, my Lady,” Ardune said, sending her a sardonic smile. “I’ll have to remember that.”