The Crystal Wood (Half-Breed Book 2)

by Brittany Comeaux

  Varg's blood ran cold.

  Zita kept a stone cold expression, something she no doubt practiced, and continued, “Every night for three years I was beaten, starved, raped, and kept chained naked and petrified to a bed in a filthy, decrepit room. I easily had at least five men a night doing unspeakable things to me. I found myself praying to the gods to give me the disease that killed everyone else I had loved, but fate was never kind enough to grant my wish. Instead, fate had other plans.

  “One night, as I had uttered one last prayer, Lord Jin walked into my room. I was shocked by his appearance, as everyone is when they first set eyes on him, but that all changed when he removed my chains and offered me his robe to hide my shame. He led me and all the other women outside onto the lawn, where we saw our captors bound, gagged, naked, and on their knees in front of a group of Shadow Hand assassins.

  “Lord Jin explained that the Shadow Hand wanted to create a new world full of peace, prosperity, and free from people like the slave traders who mean to harm us. He then gave us a choice: we could leave right then and there and eventually perish when the Dawn came, or we could follow him and live the lives we always wanted. Before anyone answered, he gave us a demonstration.

  “The assassins slit the throat of every last slave trader except for the leader. Before he was killed, Lord Jin asked us who would join him in purging the world of people like him, and while the other women simply stared in horror, I alone stepped forth and volunteered. Lord Jin place a dagger in my hands and offered me the honor of killing the leader.

  “I stood there and watched as that piece of trash begged and pleaded for his life, only to find myself remembering all the times he laughed and taunted us as we begged the men to stop hurting us. A smile grew on my lips as I plunged the dagger into his heart and watched the life leave his eyes. It was then that Lord Jin welcomed me into the ranks of the Shadow Hand and took me on as his personal apprentice.”

  Zita smiled. “That was seven years ago. Lord Jin taught me everything he knew, and soon enough he was sending me to get rid of his most troublesome enemies. It was I who chased Edric Greenwood, it was I who helped trap the royal family. I fought in the battle of Whitspire alongside my brothers and sisters and fled when rumors of our beloved leader's demise surfaced. When I discovered him alive, I alone tended his wounds and sat at his bedside until he recovered.”

  Varg perked up. “So Jin is alive, then. I figured as much.”

  Zita smiled. “Don't think for a moment you tricked me. I never thought you were foolish enough to believe the Serpent was dead. At any rate, you may think he's 'wrong' or 'evil' for the things he does, but to think for a moment that he's a heartless monster is nothing short of ignorant.”

  Varg allowed her words to sink in during the silence that ensued. He knew from experience that Zita wasn't lying, every gesture she made and the way she spoke every word without fault was genuine, and though she showed little to no emotion during her recollection, Varg could see a timid, scared girl hiding behind her seductive, bloodthirsty mask.

  Varg decided not to push it, however, but instead, he locked eyes with her and said, “Zita, do you know why I became a bounty hunter?”

  Zita shook her head.

  Satisfied with her answer, Varg began, “I know most bounty hunters only care about getting paid, and to be honest, that was the only reason I got started in the first place. My first bounty involved a child that had been abducted while playing in the woods. The family was poor, but they scraped up enough for a meager reward for anyone who could get their son back. No other bounty hunter or mercenary was willing to work for so little, but I happened to be at a point where I was in desperate need of money, so I took the job.”

  “What does this have to do with the story I told you?” Zita asked impatiently.

  “You'll see,” Varg said. “Anyway, I began my search after the parents told me where the mother saw him get snatched by strange men. I didn't expect to find the kid alive, nor did I even think I'd find his body, but I had no other options except to keep searching. After a day or so of digging around and asking questions, I discovered that the boy's father had some rather significant gambling debts, and I squeezed some information out of a lender who told me that his employers were the ones who took the child.

  “I won't bore you with the details, but all you need to know is that I eventually found the hideout and put an end to their operation fairly easily, and then I found the kid, alive, in the back room. I was surprised, and he informed me that the men who took him were planning on selling him to get their money back from his father's debts.

  “As promised I delivered him back to his parents' waiting arms. I waited around to be paid, but as I sat there watching their tearful reunion, something awoke inside of me. I saw the good I had done, the joy and relief I brought that family. It made me realize something: sometimes, bad things happen to good people, but even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of hope that things can get better, so long as someone is willing to run towards the light.”

  Varg smiled, then added, “I ended up leaving before they could pay me or even thank me. I couldn't take the money. After I left them, I thought long and hard about the path ahead of me. I was good at fighting because frankly, I'd done it for so long that it was all I knew how to do. When I realized that I could use that to help others, I knew that I was born to be a bounty hunter.

  “I took on job after job, no matter what they paid, and I saved a lot of people over the centuries. Though in my later years I soon forgot why I started in the first place and only cared about getting paid, fighting the Shadow Hand and saving Fellen reawakened those thoughts and feelings in me, and now I've found purpose once again. Even if you're right about Jin, he can't keep doing what he's doing. The ends don't justify the means, no matter what Jin's goals are.”

  Zita stared at him for the longest time, then she said, “If you only knew what he knew, you wouldn't feel that way.”

  Varg knew she wouldn't tell him what she meant by that, so instead he asked her, “So tell me then, if Jin cares about you so much, why is he working with the very man who put you in the situation that Jin rescued you from?”

  Zita shifted in her seat, then said, “Well, whether I like it or not, Alastor is the best path for Jin to take to have enough control over Fellen to do what he needs to do. The Duke was too loyal to the king, but Alastor had such a deep hatred for both of them that when Jin peered into his memories and saw the years of abuse and neglect at the hands of his father, Alastor was all too eager to help Jin get rid of him. But you see, Lord Jin has no intention of allowing Alastor to live. Once he has what he wants, Lord Jin will give me the honor of ending Alastor's life.”

  Varg raised an eyebrow. If Alastor were no longer in control of Fellen, wouldn't he and the Shadow Hand be made a target by the next ruler? Or would Jin have another puppet lined up to take Alastor's place on the throne?

  “At any rate, I can see that my tale did nothing to deter your opinion of Lord Jin,” Zita remarked.

  “On the contrary,” Varg said, “I realize now that Jin and I aren't so different in our desire to help others; we just have very different methods.”

  Zita said nothing more, but moved from her chair to her bed and lay on her back facing the ceiling. Varg moved from her cell and leaned his back against the wall again, counting the seconds that ticked by and wondering how Milea was faring with her search.

  CHAPTER 18

  As Milea and Shalia stepped into the castle library, the brilliant daylight glistened the room from above. The library was a single, cylinder-shaped room in which there was a single walkway leading from the ground level and wrapped around the whole room in an upward spiral. Hundreds of bookshelves lined the walkway all the way up the walkway for five floors. Each floor level had a door leading to somewhere else in the castle, and at the base of each door the walkway flattened, then angled upward again as it went to the next level.

  The ground floor had t
ables, chairs, and a lone desk across from the door where the keeper of the library, an elder elf man scratched on a piece of parchment. He looked up as Queen Shalia and Milea approached, and then he stood when he realized who they were.

  “Queen Shalia,” he said with a bow, “I am honored by your visit this morning. How may I assist you today.”

  “Keeper, I would like to introduce you to Milea. She is here to do research on the royal family lineage. Would you be so kind as to fetch the book for her?” Shalia said.

  “Of course. I'll fetch it right away.”

  The keeper walked around the desk and up the walkway, and Milea was surprised to see how swiftly and gracefully he moved despite his age, and he continued up the walkway until he reached the top. He whispered something to another one of the library workers, and then he searched around on the top floor, where the walkway flattened and stretched around the room until it reached the opening where the walkway came up.

  Milea tried to watch him search, but the light coming in from the glass ceiling made her eyes hurt to keep looking. The sunlight, though slightly obscured and tinted by the green from the foliage of the Tree of Laelith above, created a beautiful and gentle light for the thousands of books below, giving the entire library even more of an air of mystery and intrigue.

  The keeper finally made his way down the walkway and once he was no longer enveloped in the outside light, Milea could see that he was holding a large, old tome under his arm. He finally made his way to the ground floor and approached one of the tables. He lay the book down in front of one of the chairs, and just about the same time the other library worker he spoke to before came into view with a stack of scrolls under one arm and holding a bottle of ink and a quill in the other. The worker lay the supplies next to the book and quietly walked away to return to his work, and the keeper turned to face the queen.

  “Here is the book, Your Grace,” he said. “Your guest also has access to writing materials for her research. Will there be anything else?”

  Queen Shalia shook her head. “That will be all, but if Milea has any requests, I would like you to see to them, if you please.”

  The keeper bowed. “Of course, my queen.”

  The keeper returned to his desk, and then Shalia turned to Milea and said, “Do not hesitate to ask for anything from the keeper or any of the other workers.”

  “I won't,” Milea said.

  The queen left, and Milea sat at the desk and cracked open the book to get to work.

  From what Milea knew about the elves' materials and resources, she guessed that the leather and the parchment the book was bound with was likely made from the skin of a centaur. The leather covering was decorated with gold trim and tiny flecks of green crystals and one thumb-sized one in the center, as though this was enough to hide the evidence of the death that occurred in order to create the book. Milea opened to the first page and skimmed until she found the first entry.

  Not surprisingly, the first queen was indeed the first entry in the book. “Queen Elora” was written in neat, illuminated lettering at the top of the page. Milea read further down, and the first entry read:

  Born among common elf folk, Elora made her mark as the first queen of elfkind when she led the army of elves against the greedy and vicious humans as they destroyed our forests and homes.

  Milea rolled her eyes, but she still read on:

  Elora rallied the elves bravely, but in the end her efforts were in vain. Faced with the possible genocide of the Elvish race, Elora went to the summit of a hill in the last forest untouched by men, and she prayed to Laelith for guidance. The Mother granted her a vision, in which she was instructed to deliver the last elves to the last forest and stay there. She obeyed Laelith's command, and with her help, Elora and the priestesses of Laelith sealed the forest from the outside so that they and the last sacred forest would be forever protected from human interference.

  Milea flipped the page to continue reading and came across something odd. She blinked to make sure she read the last part of the entry correctly:

  Elora lived to be one hundred and ten years old, with her death marking the end of the Golden Era.

  If her knowledge of elf history served her correctly, then Milea knew that this was too much of a coincidence.

  Milea stood up from the table, leaving her book open to where she left off, and approached the keeper's desk. The old elf looked up as she approached, and though he appeared to be annoyed by the intrusion, he still remained composed as he spoke.

  “Milea, was it?” he asked. “May I assist you with anything?”

  Milea took a deep breath and answered, “Can you please get me a book about the barrier?”

  The keeper nodded. “At once, Miss Milea.”

  A few moments later, Milea was once again seated at the table and the keeper was setting the book she requested in front of her as she pushed the first book aside. She gave the keeper her thanks and set back to her research. After combing through various chapters, Milea finally came across the section she was searching for.

  The chapter she found was all about the barrier and contained all necessary information on the subject: why it was formed, how it was formed, and most importantly, when it was formed. Milea read to the bottom of the page until she found the information she wanted:

  The barrier that protects the Crystal Wood is believed to have been formed at the end of the Golden era, by order of Queen Elora.

  Milea's heart nearly skipped a beat. The barrier's formation and the death of the first queen occurred at almost the same time, and what's more, the queen was incredibly young at the time of her death, far to young to die of old age. Milea also noted that Elora's cause of death was not listed, so she combed through the other entries in the lineage.

  The queen who ruled after Elora was her younger sister, presumably because she died without an heiress. Milea read the section about her death, which was recorded at the age of eight hundred and ninety-five years, dead from old age. Her oldest daughter ruled after, then her daughter's oldest daughter, and so on. Most of the queens died from old age, but a few were killed by either and assassin or in battle with centaurs.

  The last entry was about her mother, who had obviously not died yet, so only her birth was recorded in the book. She had little interest in reading this section aside from the fact that Shara was listed under the section of children, but she wasn't. Milea wasn't surprised, but she still felt a lump in her chest regardless.

  Milea looked up from the book and stared off into space. This was far too much of a coincidence.

  Alastor checked his horse's saddle as he looked out at the new additions to his army. Ironbarrow soldiers begrudgingly lined up outside of the city waiting to take orders from the man who invaded their city and forced them to do his bidding. After Conley had been so kind as to loan his army for their conquest, Alastor had ordered them all to gather with his own combined forces.

  Edric soon joined Alastor, the latter of which was growing more and more impatient of the former by the second.

  “Impressive,” Edric commented at the sight of the thousands of men lined up and awaiting his command. “It seems that even with all Conley's efforts to be defiant, the Serpent finally got what he wanted from him in the end.”

  Alastor frowned. “The Serpent always gets what he wants, it seems. Whether or not that spells the end for us remains to be seen.”

  He felt Edric's gaze shift towards him as he said, “You do not trust the Serpent to keep his word?”

  “Only a fool would trust anyone to keep their word,” Alastor said, “much less the Serpent. I have no intention of allowing Jin to get rid of me when I am no longer of use to him.”

  “I certainly hope,” Edric said, “that if you and I should find ourselves on the wrong side of the Serpent that you will remember who has shown you loyalty.”

  Alastor finally faced Edric and said, “Your loyalty is only to those who can keep you alive. You're a coward, Greenwood, and I don't trust for
a moment that you won't put a knife in my back if it meant you could live another day. After all...”

  Alastor leaned in closer and watched the color drain from Edric's face as he said, “...you've done it before.”

  After Edric's brow formed obvious beads of sweat, Alastor added, “And it's because of your stupidity that the Wolf is now involved in all this mess. We would already be in control of Fellen if it weren't for him and the half-elf that you framed for Lionel's murder.”

  Edric stammered, “If Lionel had found out...if he had kept digging around and asking questions-”

  “Someone would have dealt with him, but because of your rash actions, everything was compromised.”

  “Now see here-”

  Alastor grabbed hold of Edric's collar and pulled him within inches of his face. Alastor peered into Edric's gray eyes and growled, “The Serpent may have given you a second chance, but I am not so merciful. If you compromise us again, I will kill you myself. And if you have any thoughts of betraying me...” Alastor pulled Edric so close that the tips of their noses were practically touching, “...I still have my father's secret chamber in the dungeon ready for use.”

  If Edric had any color left in his face from before, Alastor's last words drained what was left. Alastor released his grip and Edric practically tumbled backwards to get away. Alastor grinned with satisfaction as Edric timidly hung his head in deferment to his command.

  “That's more like it,” Alastor said. “See that my words echo in your mind should you get any ideas of saving your own skin again.”

  Alastor turned his attention back to the army and saw that though many of them were chatting among themselves, the majority of the watched him, both eagerly and anxiously awaiting his command. He mounted his horse and galloped to a ledge overlooking the army, where he could be seen by all. He raised his battle flag and waited for a hush to fall over the crowd. One by one, soldiers and Shadow Hand members alike fell to silence and awaited Alastor's words.