Secrets of the Sword 2 (Death Before Dragons Book 8)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Lost and zombified. There’s no end to the possible bullet points that can be put on those brochures.”

  Willard, who hadn’t heard Sindari’s telepathic comment, raised her eyebrows.

  “Never mind. Is there any chance that box came from this Nagnortha?” I asked, the question for either of them.

  “I never did see a box.” Willard looked around, gaze lingering on the upended shelving unit and the artifacts and books on the floor. “All I see is a mess.”

  “I think it was trying to suck me into it… or into somewhere.” Somehow, I suspected the box had wanted to do more than shut me inside and close the lid.

  It is possible that it came from Nagnortha, Sindari said, but as you know from my charm, there are many races with magic that can make artifacts that allow travel between realms and dimensions.

  You think that’s what it was trying to do? Take me to another realm or dimension?

  It seemed that way.

  Willard walked toward the mess on the floor, bent, and picked up a couple of pieces of something.

  “How would a thief that we believe is from our world get a magical artifact like that box?” I wondered. And had she deliberately placed it there to trap me? To drag me off to… where? That haunted world? Another dimension? A place where I would land in a cage and she would be waiting to take Chopper from me?

  Willard returned and held open her hand. Two finger bones—they appeared too long to belong to a human—lay on her palm, the ends sliced off on one side. Where Chopper had cut through them?

  Uneasy at this proof that something beyond mere magic had been gripping me, I touched my throat.

  Willard squinted at the spot. “You’ve got red marks all around your neck. Like someone was trying to strangle you.”

  “Yeah. Enemies do that to me a lot.”

  “Have you talked to your therapist about it?”

  “She would probably recommend more meditation and yoga to calm my inner self when the world is raging against me.”

  “That helps with strangulation?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed.”

  The whisper of tape ripping free sounded in the quiet room, and Brisco returned to us with the camera.

  “Nothing magical about this, I don’t think.” He held it up to me for a second opinion.

  “Toshiba,” I read off the side. “As far as I know, they don’t mass produce magical cameras.”

  “Funny. I was wondering if something had been added to it.” He wriggled his fingers and wrinkled his nose in an approximation of a television witch casting a spell.

  “I don’t sense anything weird about it.”

  “It’s wireless?” Willard asked. “See if you can figure out where it’s transmitting to. I can’t imagine its range is that great. There might be a van parked outside.”

  He swore and ran for the exit.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You think our thief used her portal generator to travel to a van parked around the block?”

  “We don’t know she used the portal generator at all. It wouldn’t be that hard for someone with a cloaking charm—” Willard waved to my leather thong, “—to sneak in and out, though I don’t know how she would have gotten past the door lock or the special alarms that are supposed to warn us of intruders using magic.”

  “Maybe you need better alarms. And a dragon door knocker to put on the door that flambés intruders who don’t know the secret password.”

  “I’m not buying one of Dimitri’s tchotchkes.”

  “I’m sure he would give you the friends-and-family rate.”

  Willard closed her hand around the bones. “I’ll have my agents analyze these and try to figure out what species they come from.”

  “Can I have one? It’s been a couple of weeks since I had any work for Zoltan to charge me an obscene amount of money for. He’s probably feeling impoverished.”

  “He doesn’t pay you rent, and he doesn’t pay for what he eats. What does he need money for?”

  “Alchemical ingredients are expensive. He also has an extensive bow-tie collection that he needs to add to periodically.” I reached for one of the bones.

  “My people will analyze them for free. And we’ve got someone at the university who will let us use the DNA sequencer.”

  “I like second opinions.”

  “And being overcharged, apparently.” Despite her words, Willard dropped one of the bones in my hand.

  It was cool, dry, and slightly porous. I didn’t sense any magic in it, but that might change once I was out of the artifacts room and away from so many other magical artifacts filling the air with their emanations.

  As we headed for the door, my phone buzzed with a text from my daughter.

  What up, Val? Sword practice this afternoon?

  I eyed the phone suspiciously. “What day is it, Willard?”

  “Wednesday.”

  “Amber wants to practice today after school. We usually only meet on Sundays, and she complains the whole way through our session, assuming she doesn’t try to get out of it altogether.”

  Amber hadn’t canceled any practices since our run-in with the fae males in Magnuson Park, but she also hadn’t asked for extra training.

  “Maybe she’s realized the value of having a caring mother in her life and wants to spend more time with you.”

  “You’ve met Amber. I’m amazed you can say that with a straight face.”

  “I’m working on my deadpan delivery to enhance comedic effect.”

  If nothing else tries to kill me today, I should be available, I texted back.

  Great. Meet you at Crown Hill Park on Holman Rd.

  Why that spot? We usually worked out in her backyard.

  More space! I’ve got some new moves to show you. See you at 3.

  “Is Crown Hill Park as small and devoid of anything interesting as I think it is?” If I remembered the spot correctly, a place I’d only driven past without stopping, it had a baseball field, some playground equipment, and a skate ramp.

  “I don’t even know where that is,” Willard said. “You’re the Seattle native.”

  I typed it into my map, frowned at the park’s tiny size, and eyed the phone suspiciously again. “Either there’s a cute boy who skates there, or I’m being set up.”

  Admiral Ackbar’s famous “It’s a trap” line floated through my mind.

  “Set up? By your teenage daughter?”

  “Uh huh.” I zoomed in on the map until the establishments around the park popped up, then groaned.

  Willard leaned in for a look. “Oh, there’s a bridal shop.”

  I groaned again. Amber loved dresses and shopping and trying things on. I did not.

  “You’ll need a dress for your wedding. She’s being thoughtful and helping you out.” Willard grinned wickedly and not at all deadpan. “Send some photos of you trying on dresses. That should be entertaining. When was the last time you wore a dress?”

  “In the army.”

  “Your Class-A uniform doesn’t count as a dress.”

  “Thad said the same thing.” I snapped my fingers. “Wait, I forgot. I wore a dress to my last bodyguard gig. Zav liked it.”

  “Sexy, huh?”

  “It had a leg slit so I could reach my gun.”

  “Leg slits aren’t allowed on wedding dresses.”

  “I’m positive there’s no rule about that.”

  “I’m positive there is. No leg slits and no weapons as you walk down the aisle.”

  “What kind of wedding are you planning for me?”

  “A right and proper one. Your mom will thank me.”

  “Mom thinks we should elope to Vegas and forget the wedding.”

  “Then your daughter will thank me.” Willard pointed me toward the stairs. “Go meet her. I’ll call you with any information we can dig up on the thief and the bone.”

  I cast a longing look back toward the artifacts room as I walked out. I would rather face wraiths and risk being pulled into a
portal to a haunted world than try on dresses.

  4

  Before heading to the park to meet Amber, I stopped by the house to drop off the finger bone. Since it was daylight—Zoltan’s sleeping-in-a-coffin hours—that had involved taping it to the basement door with a note. I would text him about it after dark.

  Amber was already at the park when I arrived, sitting on a picnic table while two guys in baggy jeans with skateboards under their arms talked to her. Maybe I had guessed wrong, and she knew someone who went to school in the area who she’d wanted to see, but she hadn’t mentioned any interest in boys—or posted about them on her social media pages.

  Her shoulders were hunched as she sat fiddling with a cardboard coffee cup. I couldn’t tell if the body language meant she was cold or she didn’t want to talk to them, but I parked quickly and walked toward her.

  One pointed at her and then at a beat-up truck in the parking lot. What did that mean? That he wanted to take her somewhere?

  I quickened my pace, ready to rush in and beat the crap out of them—though I’d seen her fight and knew she was capable of doing it herself.

  Amber glanced in the direction the guy was pointing and saw me. She waved at me with way more enthusiasm than usual, and I knew I was right, that she didn’t want the company.

  “Hey, Mom!”

  Mom? Even more of a clanging alarm bell. She’d only called me Mom once in the last fifteen years, and that had been when that assassin had been about to kill me.

  The guys turned to look at me. From the back, I’d assumed they were teenagers, but they both had scraggly beards and looked like they were in their twenties. A flood of rage at the idea of them hitting on my fifteen-year-old daughter almost had me reaching for Chopper. But the police only looked the other way when I killed criminal trolls and orcs. Murdering humans was frowned upon. Unfortunately.

  “Mom?” one mouthed, checking me out instead of scampering off as he would have if he could see my weapons—and knew how well I could use them.

  His buddy elbowed him. “Talk about a MILF.”

  “I have to go.” Amber turned and scrambled off the back of the picnic table. Avoiding them, she grabbed a bag and strode toward me. “Hey, Val. This park is lame. We should go somewhere else.”

  The guys must have decided they wouldn’t have any luck here, because they slouched off toward the skateboard area.

  “Imagine both of them at once,” one muttered to the other.

  “Oh, I will be tonight.”

  Sometimes, having superior hearing wasn’t a blessing. I hoped Amber’s wasn’t as good as mine and that she didn’t catch that. But the crimson color to her cheeks suggested she’d heard enough. My rage returned, making my fingers snap into fists. A sound pummeling would be good for those guys. But that was illegal, too, damn it.

  Ah, wait. Magic wasn’t. The laws said very little about magic.

  I eyed their backs, wondering if my root spell would work as well here as it had in the fae realm. Probably not, but I didn’t need anything quite so epic.

  I concentrated, and before they stepped off the grass and onto cement, roots grew up out of the ground and wrapped around their ankles, tightening like vises. One squawked and pitched forward onto the cement, cracking his elbow. The other crumpled where he was, dropping his skateboard in a puddle.

  Laughter came from a couple of guys waiting their turn on the ramp. Humiliation wasn’t as satisfying as a pummeling, but it would do.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Did you do that?” Amber was watching them try to scramble to their feet.

  “Do what?” I let the magic go before anyone could investigate too closely, and the roots disappeared back into the ground. That spell hadn’t impressed me much when Freysha had taught it to me, but it was turning out to be handy.

  “Make them fall.”

  “I think they just tripped. Kind of clumsy. They probably shouldn’t do a sport that requires balance.”

  Amber didn’t respond right away. Her face showed a mixture of emotions, and I waited to see if she’d tell me to butt out of her problems or settle on the preferred reaction of finding my antics appropriate, appreciated, and delightful.

  “I hope they landed on their dicks,” she finally said, going back to the table to retrieve her coffee cup.

  I groped for something useful to say. Something wise and motherly that wouldn’t cause her to roll her eyes.

  “You don’t have to talk to people who are bothering you,” I tried. “You can just walk away.”

  “Thanks for the after-school-special talk.”

  “You’re welcome. You should also say no to drugs. And sugar-drenched vats of caffeine.” I pointed at the cup.

  “How do you know it’s sugar-drenched?”

  “Because no teenager likes black coffee.”

  “Did you really come here to lecture me?”

  “No. I’d rather lecture those idiots.” I jerked a thumb toward the guys. They’d recovered and joined their buddies in the skate park, where they were, I hoped, being soundly mocked.

  “Let’s take a walk, okay?” She hefted her gym bag over her shoulder, her practice swords sticking out of the end. “I don’t want to work out where they’re going to ogle us.”

  “No problem. I’m surprised you actually brought your stuff.”

  She glanced at me as we headed toward the sidewalk.

  “I assumed this was a ruse.” I decided not to mention Admiral Ackbar, though if Thad was the father I thought he was, he’d made her watch the original Star Wars trilogy at some point.

  “It kind of was, but we can practice afterward.”

  “After going to the bridal shop?”

  She smiled slightly for the first time. “You’re not as dumb as you look.”

  “Thanks so much.”

  “They won’t let you in if you’re all sweaty and gross.”

  No? I supposed flinging myself on the ground like Rocket and rolling in a mud puddle wouldn’t get me out of this. Such tactics worked for my mother’s dog, but I wasn’t a golden retriever.

  “It’s early for dress shopping, don’t you think?” I asked. “We haven’t set a date yet. Zav wants to get married as soon as possible, but fall and winter aren’t good times for outdoor weddings in Seattle.”

  It was sunny today, a rare break from the November gloom, but that sun was wan and to the south this time of year, and it would be getting dark in a couple of hours. If dress shopping took more than the five minutes I hoped it would, we would have to find a lit place for our sword practice.

  “It takes three to four months to get a custom dress,” Amber said.

  “Do I need a custom dress?”

  She gave me that familiar look that managed to be scathing and pitying all at the same time. “You’re six feet tall, Val. Don’t you need custom everything?”

  “Not everything.” I had been fantasizing about a larger bathtub lately, but only because I liked to lounge in the bubbles with a book. I doubted Amber was referring to home fixtures. “You’re six feet tall, too, you know.”

  It would probably horrify her if I suggested we could wear the same clothes. Besides, I doubted she had a wedding dress I could borrow. At least I hoped not.

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “You don’t appreciate being tall? Longer arms give you more reach when you’re sword fighting.”

  “My primary passion in life.” Amber waved away the comment. “I just don’t like that people always notice me.”

  “Like random guys at the park?” I guessed.

  “Randos everywhere. Thanks for the blonde hair too.” She waved at her beautiful locks that most girls would die for. “That makes it even worse.”

  “Has someone been bothering you? Besides those guys?” My hackles rose again.

  “No. Never mind.”

  I wanted badly to pry, but I knew from past experience that she would only clam up further. Maybe Thad would know something and could fill me
in. Even if I was only a part-time mom, I cared what happened to her and wanted her to be okay.

  As we reached the intersection and headed in the direction of the bridal shop, Amber glanced at me. “I’ll probably have more time to practice sword stuff this winter.”

  “Oh?”

  She’d informed me numerous times that she had a ton of homework this year.

  “I’m thinking of quitting swim team.”

  I halted ten feet from the door of the bridal shop. “What? Why? I thought you loved it. And you’re really good. Those long levers are good for butterflying, too, right?”

  That earned me the much-anticipated eye roll. “Butterfly, Val.”

  My phone buzzed. I checked the caller, intending to ignore it unless it might be an emergency, but it was Thad.

  “Ugh.” Amber saw his name on the screen. “Don’t answer that.”

  “You’re not in trouble, are you?”

  “No.” That no came out surly.

  “Did you have another fight? About Nin?” I’d thought Amber was getting along better with Nin now that they’d thrown magical grenades together in another realm.

  “No. He just doesn’t know I’m here.”

  Not wanting him to worry, I answered before it could drop to voice mail. “Hey, Tha—”

  “Do you know where Amber is?” he asked tensely.

  “Yeah, with me.”

  Amber sighed and slumped against the building.

  “What?” Thad didn’t sound any less tense. “Why?”

  “Because I’m a joy to be around.”

  “Did she tell you she’s grounded? She’s not supposed to be anywhere except school, the pool, and her room. And she’s definitely not supposed to run off somewhere without telling me where she went.”

  “She’s practicing being a rebellious teenager.” I raised my eyebrows toward Amber. “Why are you grounded?”

  “It’s not my fault,” she said at the same time as Thad said, “She got in a fight at school.”

  Amber rolled her eyes again. I wondered if it was medically possible for them to get stuck in that position. I seemed to remember being Amber’s age and having my mother threaten me that such things could happen.