Red Blood (Series of Blood Book 2)

by Emma Hamm

  Lyra swallowed hard. She didn’t want to be frightened of him. He had created such beautiful creations in front of her. He had made her laugh. All he wanted to do was make her smile; he had said so himself.

  But perhaps that was also just her desire to forget that he had raised a man from the dead simply to serve him. That he created soldiers out of mud and stolen souls. That he scarred his own flesh for the many spells he was capable of using.

  A sudden shifting in the water sent the both of them lurching forward. Somehow they managed to keep their feet on the greenery that was slicked with swamp water. Both Lyra and E were out of breath as they caught their balance and searched for the cause of the waves.

  Before their eyes, a house appeared. Not suddenly in a great rush of color and substance. The simple and quaint log cabin slowly appeared as sand in an hourglass slowly tumbles to the bottom.

  Lyra had never seen anything like it before. This was the greatest show of illusion she had ever witnessed. And she had lived with Bones for many years.

  A small brick chimney rose out of the top of wooden shingles. Curling puffs of smoke, which looked like cotton candy, drifted into the air that was not disturbed by wind. Stone steps rose out of the swamp water around them to provide a very clear and precise path to the house.

  “Ah. This is what we were looking for,” E murmured.

  “Or we’re about to be offered candy by a wicked witch.”

  “Try to be positive, Lyra. Would you?”

  “I only pretend to be good at that,” she muttered as she shifted the blade in her hand. There were a few more strapped to random places on her body, and she intended to use them if need be.

  The last stone popped up in front of them. Water streamed off of the grey rock that appeared to dry instantly. This was dangerous path to tread.

  Lyra refused to hesitate. She had not spent most of her life being brave to not be brave in this moment. One foot in front of the other was significantly easier than fighting a beast. Or dealing with Red Bloods whose loved ones had been lost in the battle between the Five and Malachi.

  Her steps were sure and confident as she walked up to the house. E followed close at her heels, but both of them hesitated before the solid oak door. A swirling pattern of ivy was carved into its formidable form.

  “Do we knock?” Lyra asked.

  The door swung open without either of them lifting a hand.

  E raised an eyebrow and looked over at her. “I suppose that is the answer to your question.”

  Lyra wasn’t certain that was a good thing at all. Still, she was leading this foolish endeavor, which meant she had to put her feet to work once more. She stepped across the threshold and hoped she wasn’t about to meet a Minotaur.

  Or worse.

  The inside of the house was just as delicate looking as the outside. A single room was warmly lit by a stone fireplace, which held a cheery fire. Herbs hung from the ceiling and made the air smell sweetly of lavender and basil. A table with chairs around it held a large bowl of grapes and peaches. A small bed was settled into the corner of the room with a brightly colored patchwork quilt laid carefully across it.

  Creaking next to the fireplace was a rocking chair inhabited by a middle aged woman. Silver strands laced through her black hair that was pulled into a bun at the base of her neck. Tendrils of hair fell in her face as she stared down at the knitting in her hands.

  Lyra cleared her throat.

  “Yes, we do know you are here.” The soft voice came from behind them.

  E and Lyra turned quickly to see a stunningly beautiful young woman closing the door behind them. She was lithe and lean in her youth. Hair as fine as silk was loose around her shoulders in a cloud of darkness. In short, she was immediately disliked by Lyra’s Siren side.

  “Maiden, I presume?” E said.

  “Oh, because it’s so hard to tell?” Maiden smiled at them with a hard look in her eyes.

  “Be good,” the Mother called from her knitting. “They have only just arrived.”

  Maiden shrugged and moved towards her mother. Lyra realized that a black cat followed close at her heels. It stopped in front of the fire to delicately lick its paw and glare at the intruders.

  “We have come to beg your assistance,” E began.

  A thin voice wavered from beneath the covers in the bed. “We have no interest in speaking to you, Legion.”

  The Crone slowly sat up. Her white hair was closely cropped to her head, and her body was painfully thin. Lyra did not believe the charade in the slightest. This woman radiated power. She was clearly capable of more than she wanted them to know.

  “You wish to speak with me?” Lyra asked.

  “Why yes. That is why you have come.”

  “I have come to ask questions of you.”

  “No.” Crone shook her head. “You have come because it was foretold.”

  “I don’t believe in fate.”

  “You should. Your Magician certainly does.”

  Lyra blinked in confusion. Her eyes narrowed at the suggestion the woman was making. “You know nothing of my Magician.”

  “We know much of Wolfgang; in the same way we know much of you. I can practically see the chains around your wrists.”

  Anger exploded behind Lyra’s eyes. “I will have none of that! You will listen to us, and you will answer our questions. No more words out of your poisonous mouth, old woman!”

  Mother began to laugh. The creaking of her chair ceased as she finally turned towards them. “Come now, children. Sit by our fire and spend a time speaking with us. Perhaps we may find we can help each other.”

  Lyra’s head was spinning as she tried to keep track of all of them. Maiden, Mother, and Crone were known for trying to confuse the people seeking their help. The more confused, the better, because time never passed normally within this house. No one knew how they did it or even what they were.

  Supposedly, they were a legend. They were a human creation. They did not exist in the dimension that had merged with this one. Yet, when the magical creatures combined with humanity, the Trinity had revealed they were not myth at all.

  She knew very well that talking with them could be going down a rabbit hole. Lyra hadn’t even been the one to suggest it. She preferred known evils that she could handle. The Trinity were unknown to all creatures, even E, because they weren’t part of the magical realm its knowledge came from.

  The carpet was plush and comfortable enough to sit upon it. Lyra chose the spot next to the cat rather than in the offered seats. It was a small act of rebellion that she hoped would remind these women that she wasn’t going to be ordered around.

  E sat where it was told and kept a serene smile on Wren’s face. Lyra wished it were Wren here instead of her creature. Although they were merged and should have been sharing a mind, Lyra saw too much of E in this facade to be able to predict its moves.

  Mother shifted to set her knitting down on the table next to her. “So, you have come for answers, was it?”

  Lyra leaned forward before E could speak. “We need to talk about the prophecy.”

  “Which one?” Maiden asked with a sarcastic tone.

  “You know which one I’m talking about. The one that determines the fate of this world. The one where four people will be able to defeat the Void who is trying to destroy everything. I don’t know about you ladies, but I don’t like the idea of death this early in my life.”

  Maiden’s gaze sharpened. Her silent steps carried her to the Crone who she helped to her seat near the fireplace. Aged hands curled in her lap before the woman met Lyra’s gaze.

  “We will wait for our other visitors before we answer that question.”

  “What other visitors?” Lyra had barely asked the question before she heard the stomp of boots outside.

  Burke and Jasper blasted through the door. There were leaves tangled in their hair, and their eyes held a wild look. Lyra’s eyes squinted as she tried to catch details before she cocked her head to
the side.

  “Are those petals on your shoulders?”

  Red petals, to be exact. They dusted across the men’s shoulders and drifted to the floor as they shook themselves. A bright red welt decorated the arch of Jasper’s cheekbone.

  “Yes,” Burke growled. “A rose garden made it difficult for us to reach the house.”

  “I don’t want to know,” Lyra snorted. “You can tell Wren that one in detail tonight when she kisses your boo-boos better. While you two were out picking flowers, E and I already found this place. Now you’re interrupting.”

  “Are we?”

  She ignored the growled response. The men’s pride would have to be addressed later. For now, there were bigger fish to fry.

  “Ladies? The prophecy,” she gritted through her teeth.

  Mother sighed and gestured towards two chairs at the kitchen table. “Sit down, gentlemen. If I had known we would be treated with such disrespect, I would not have created such a comfortable space for us to meet.”

  “My apologies, ma’am. Lyra is known for her…” Burke paused, “quick tongue.”

  “Among many things, I’m certain.”

  At least the middle aged woman was smiling. Lyra was certain these three women could have snuffed her life out if they wanted to. Obviously she hadn’t angered them that much.

  Maiden wandered behind the men and trailed her fingers along their shoulders. “Curious. These two are attached to the prophecy, Mother.”

  “Everyone in this room is, Maiden. Or did you not even look at the women?”

  A roll of the eyes was Maiden’s response. Lyra wondered how frustrating it must be to spend an existence with a teenager and a very old woman. Mother seemed to have the short stick in this situation.

  “What are your questions about the prophecy?” Shaking and weak, Crone’s voice did not match the direct gaze, which speared towards Lyra.

  “We are concerned that it is fluid,” she began. “Prophecies are not easily controlled. We do not wish to go down this path if there is another way. We wish to know how concrete the prophecy the Five told us is.”

  “Ah, now that is not an easy question to answer. Prophecies are always fluid.”

  “Then more information. What else can you tell us?”

  “We’re not supposed to help.”

  “Then what good are you?” Lyra’s voice raised in anger. “If you can tell us nothing then go back to your secret home and rot alone.”

  “Lyra!” Burke scolded.

  Mother raised her hand for silence. “Please, arguing will get us nowhere. It is refreshing to find someone who is not frightened of us. If we can answer your question, we will.”

  Lyra noticed there was something in Crone’s hand. It appeared to be nothing more interesting than a common dandelion, but she knew better. There was significance to this item if the Crone was holding it.

  The flower was passed to Mother, who slowly exhaled upon it. The stem of the flower grew long and twitched as it stretched in length. It twined around Mother’s arm like a snake.

  “Maiden?” Mother asked.

  Sauntering towards them with a swagger in her step, Maiden reached into the Mother’s knitting basket and plucked out a needle. She pressed the tip into the fleshy pad of her thumb with a sharp jab. A tiny bead of blood welled upon her skin and was immediately pressed onto the bright yellow of the dandelion.

  What had started as a droplet of red grew. It twisted and turned until it devoured the tiny dandelion whole. Threads of color changed before Lyra’s eyes until the dandelion was no more. In the Mother’s hands was a perfectly round and smooth ruby stone.

  “There we are.” Mother’s voice deepened with emotion. “Here are the answers you seek.”

  Lyra knew strong magic when she saw it. She understood the strange electric quality the air had taken and how her hair had raised on her arms. She did not flinch nor did she find fear where others might have.

  “What offering would you ask me to give?” Lyra asked.

  Magic always had a price. In the magical dimension, they might have gotten by without worry. But here? In the human realm things were much different.

  “We only ask that you seek to protect our home before all others.”

  “Done.”

  Burke shifted in his chair. “You cannot promise that, Lyra.”

  “I can.”

  “We do not have the numbers to protect both this swamp and Haven.”

  “No,” Lyra agreed. “We do not. But I know who does.”

  The Mother slowly turned her head towards Lyra. A great smile spread across her face, although Lyra doubted it was only because she was pleased. “That is precisely what I was asking. We appreciate your offer.”

  “I cannot tell you for certain that he will agree.”

  “For you, he will. You have three questions to ask before the magic will dissolve.”

  At this, Lyra did look towards Burke. He looked towards E, who slowly nodded. “Shall we ask the questions in riddles?”

  “I believe a more direct route is always a reasonable place to start,” Mother said.

  “Are the four people who shall fulfill this prophecy set in stone or are there multiple people who would fulfill the prophecy?” Burke said as he rubbed his chin.

  The stone began to rotate in the Mother’s hand. It twisted and turned until the force of its wild spin lifted it from her palm. Mother stared directly at the red stone and began to answer.

  “No. Four people and four people alone will suffice to fulfill this prophecy. If one shall die then all is lost.”

  “That’s a relief,” Lyra said on an exhale. “At least we don’t have to start chasing people around and begging them to be part of a prophecy.”

  “Lyra, can you take this seriously?” E asked her.

  “I am taking this seriously. That’s me taking it seriously.”

  E shook its head. “Second question: how many of the people in our prophecy have we met?”

  The Mother hesitated for a moment. Her answer was tentative. “Two.”

  “You don’t sound so sure of that.” Lyra was immediately suspicious.

  “I am not. Nor is the magic certain of it.” Mother leaned in closer to the red orb, and her eyes widened. “Three. The answer is three, but the third is very difficult to see through any magical means.”

  “What does that mean?”

  E immediately jumped into the conversation. “That is not our third question.”

  Mother nodded. “Agreed, that is a separate question from the magic. It appears that the third person whom you have met is cloaked. There is magic and darkness so thick around this person that it is difficult to even see who they are.”

  Lyra assumed that was Wolfgang. He was powerful enough to hide himself from magic such as Mother was using. “But if that’s the Graverobber, then who is the second one we have met already?”

  “I can see the Graverobber clear as day.” Mother laughed. “He is a secretive man but also a friend.”

  The man never ceased to amaze her. He was friends with the Trinity? Her brow furrowed. Why hadn’t he told her that? It would have been useful for him to just ask if they could speak. Although, she didn’t really know him well enough to ask him to speak on her behalf.

  E leaned forward. “Then our final question will be, who is the third?”

  “Are you sure about that?” Lyra asked. “That could be a wasted question. Shouldn’t we ask who the fourth unknown person is?”

  “If we get a hint as to who that third person is, we’re one step closer. We’ve already met this person. It would be easy to find them.”

  “Someone in this room has met them,” she corrected E. “We’ve all met a lot of people.”

  “Hence the question.”

  “Right.”

  At Mother’s questioning look, Lyra nodded. Though the question might not get them to where they wished to be, at least it would be a step closer. Lyra thought it would be more useful to ask who the pers
on they didn’t know was. But no one wanted her opinion on this apparently.

  The red orb spun faster as Mother stared into it.

  “My apologies,” Mother whispered. “It is difficult.”

  She leaned closer and began to mutter. The hair on Lyra’s arms rose again as tension began to grow in the room. From the words, it appeared almost as though Mother was arguing with whatever it was she was attempting to see.

  The words began to sting her ears. Lyra’s eyes squinted, and she grit her teeth to try and ignore the pain. Whatever magic the Mother was using, it was strong enough to cause everyone in the room pain. Or perhaps it was the magic the creature was using to prevent her from seeing it.

  Lyra threw herself to the floor as the orb shattered. Shards of sharp red stone flew throughout the room, and the expulsion of magic caused the stones on the floor to crack. Mother’s head was flung backwards although Maiden managed to catch her before she hit the ground. A thunderous sound accompanied the starting wreckage.

  She blinked a few times to try and get her bearings. Somehow, she was in one piece. She didn’t feel any bits of herself bleeding. She didn’t feel wounded at all.

  She leaned up on her elbows to stare at the shards of orb, which were hovering in the air. Each one had stopped before they had hit a person.

  “Well,” Mother grumbled. “That was incredibly rude. Everyone is all right?”

  Crone smacked her lips together. “Just barely. Did you get a good look at him?”

  “No,” Mother replied. She was visibly shaken. “Not even the smallest glimpse of the person. It is now time for you to leave, I think.”

  “You didn’t answer the third question,” Lyra argued.

  “We did. The person you seek is so powerful that not even we can see who they are. That in itself is an answer.”

  The other three on her team were already standing. She could see how shaken both Jasper and Burke were. E was a stoic as ever. She suspected that Wren would not have taken this quite as well. The woman was a spitfire when Burke was put in danger.

  Just as he was for her. His hands were clenched at his sides. Lyra could almost see the thoughts dancing through his head that he wished it were Wren in control over her body. He probably wanted to get all sappy with her and make sure she was fine.