Chapter 25
Footsteps thudded on the cobblestones. Tal ignored her permanent shadows. They had followed her since she’d left the tunnels, now dressed, and in search of a drink. She was glad to see Waylon unharmed, though she didn’t say as much.
“For someone who wants nothing to do with high society, you sure have moved up quickly.” Daire’s voice slithered out from an alley and her fury flared in answer.
One godsdamned thing after another. Alright you cursed gods. What else have you got? Tal sighed in exasperation.
Daire pushed off from the house he leaned against and approached her. “I thought you weren’t interested in marriage.”
“You have impeccable timing.” She tried to walk past him, but the captain stepped into her path.
He splayed his arms wide. “And yet here you are, bedding the fucking king of all people. You are aware that he’s looking for a wife, yes? Or perhaps you prefer to be his mistress.”
Tal swung at the captain, but her arm stopped. Waylon stood beside her, her forearm in his fist. He pushed Tal behind him without a word.
“Respectfully, my lord, thi—” CRACK! Waylon’s fist collided with his nose. Daire stumbled backwards, clutching his face.
Immediately, Eddard stepped in to distract his captain. “Oh dear, you’re bleeding all over! Here! I have something to clean that up!” He waved Waylon and Tal away.
Tal ignored Ed and tried to take her own swing, but the noble gripped her around the middle and threw her over his shoulder. “Hells, Waylon! Put me down!”
“Sorry, Tal. I’m saving you from yourself.” He jogged down the street until Daire’s angry insults were drowned out by the sounds of nearby taverns.
When he put her down, Tal rounded on him. “Why did you stop me?!”
“For Faron. He would have killed me if I let you handle that bastard.”
Tal scowled. “That's what you think.” She stomped toward the taverns, but not before yelling over her shoulder, “Don’t follow me.”
Gale’s proved to be exceptionally boisterous that night, and exactly what Tal needed. Nothing but ale, testosterone, and blood to distract her. After two pints, she started to feel guilty for leaving on her own. Her friends should be in the tunnels by now and would be worried.
Gale returned behind the bar after knocking out a rowdy customer’s front tooth for smacking her ass. “Another?” the burly woman asked. She placed a hand on her hip. The knuckles shown red in the dim light.
“How about a swig of something stronger? Then I’m off.
” A quick glance at the door confirmed Eddard stood guard, his middle finger once again tapping the handle of his sword.
At her attention, he suddenly found a very interesting spiderweb above his head.
Tal rolled her eyes and turned back to the bar.
Waylon was nowhere in sight, likely still searching the surrounding buildings.
Gale nodded and pulled a bottle of dark amber liquid from under the bar. She uncorked the infamous Mud Water and poured barely two gulps into a small glass. Before it reached Tal’s lips, the smell accosted her senses and sent her into a coughing fit.
“Best if you do it quick, love,” the barkeep said before stepping away to yell at two drunks having it out near the window.
Tal heeded her advice and tossed it back.
The spicy, sweet liquid burned down her throat.
It destroyed her tastebuds. Breathing fire wouldn’t be a problem for anyone drinking that liquid flame.
Her body shivered of its own accord, and she realized how long it had been since she had tasted the drink.
She slammed a few coins onto the bar. Before she could hop off the stool, a hand on her arm had Tal reaching for the blade at her thigh.
“You’re not safe yet, friend.”
Tal squinted at the girl whose delicate hand rested on her forearm and slowly lowered her weapon. She shot a quick glace to Ed who made his way through the crowd, hand on his sword. She shook her head minutely and turned back to the newcomer.
She’d seen the girl before, but never at Gale’s.
The curly chestnut hair and dark brown eyes aged the girl.
“Gwendolyn will not be pleased to find you on this side of the docks, child. Go back home before the grass tells her you’ve left.
” Finally, Tal had found a member of the local coven, but the timing couldn’t be worse.
“It’s the trees that speak to us, and you know it. And I’m no child. I’ve nearly come of age. I’ll have my powers before the next full moon.” She looked no more than fourteen, but by her admission, she must have been about Egan’s age.
“And yet you’re still too young to be here.” Tal nodded to the rowdy patrons around them.
“I’ve come to warn you. Danger is near. Too near for you to be alone.”
Tal narrowed her eyes. “Did the trees tell you about the mages? What more did they tell you?”
The young witch’s attention darted around nervously. She squeezed Tal’s arm. “Mage. Just one. At least only one now. But you must be careful. The trees—they speak of something to come. They speak of you.”
Tal leaned in then. “What do they say?” Tal kept her voice low even though the surrounding ruckus drowned out all conversation.
The tavern door opened, and a cool breeze blew the girl’s hair from her face.
She stiffened, and her eyes grew wide. “I must go. Be safe. Please.” The little witch spun and bolted toward the door around a group of sparring men.
Tal tried to go after her but was thrown off balance by a drunk stumbling into her.
Eddard immediately helped right her with a hand on her arm.
“I’m fine.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp and stomped out the door. Neither the girl, nor Waylon were anywhere in sight. She swore and went to check around the side of the building.
Not three steps out the door, a dark figure blocked her path and reached for her head. The force of a stone wall barreled into her, sending her crashing to the ground.
Eddard’s sword knocked the mage’s hand aside, but didn’t break the skin. Before he could strike, a cloaked arm flew up, and the guard went rigid. Warm liquid slapped across Tal’s face. The smell of copper hit her in a rush, and Eddard’s body collapsed in two pieces.
Tal sat frozen, staring at the growing puddle of blood that soaked the ground. It filled the cracks of the cobblestone, reaching the tip of the guard’s sword. Too much blood, too soon after the blow.
Tal was distantly aware of the footsteps approaching her. The hem of a dark cloak dragged through the puddle, staining the ground in streaks of crimson. Eddard did not get up. His chest did not rise with his breaths. His hand lay unmoving.
Cold fingers gripped Tal’s chin and turned her gaze.
The mage’s face lay in shadow but for a wide smile that pulled at sunken cheeks.
Tal’s eyes sought out her friend’s body lying prone in the street as the mage’s hand reached for her forehead.
The moment it touched her, a blinding pain made her elbows buckle, and everything went black.
She woke to a pounding headache. She attempted to reach for her head, but her arms wouldn’t move.
A candle emitted a soft glow somewhere near her feet.
She tried and failed to turn her head. She couldn’t feel her limbs, couldn’t feel the clothes touching her skin or the hair at her neck.
Her breath sounded muffled, like listening underwater.
Light suddenly illuminated the ceiling. A door had opened.
“My elusive little friend. It’s about time we met.”
She couldn’t see who entered the room, but she recognized the voice. She’d heard it plenty of times before, except then it sounded off, emotionless. It was the same voice used by the apparitions that had been plaguing the docks the last few months.
“My apologies, the spell immobilizes you.” Movement in the corner of her eyes precluded a brief tingling sensation on her jaw and neck, and the deafening silence of the room blasted her ears.
She turned toward the voice and finally saw the mage.
He was ageless. The bone white hair and eyebrows were in stark contrast to the flawless skin.
“A pleasure to meet you.” The mage smiled, and it all came back to her. The tavern. The witch. Eddard.
Eddard was dead. His body lay in pieces outside Gale’s. Had anyone found him yet? Where was Waylon? Was he dead too? Anger flared within her, a dull feeling. Did the spell mute her fury?
Tal tried to move her arms again to no avail. She swallowed. “What have you done? Where am I?” Her voice was hoarse as if she hadn’t used it for several days.
“That doesn’t matter anymore. Tell me, are the rumors true?”
Rather than answer, she turned her head, taking in the limited details of the room. There were no windows, no other furniture, no sounds outside, nor smells to indicate where she might be.
“You won’t find any chance of escape. Nobody knows you’re here.”
Eddard sliced in two. His busy hand stilled forever.
“Fuck you.”
He chuckled darkly. “Thanks to you, my associates are no more. She’ll be pleased to see that I captured you all by myself.”
“Who will?”
“You’ll see,” the mage crooned. He grinned audibly, his lips scraping along his teeth. The dry skin cracked, and a drop of blood seeped through.
Blood crawling between cobblestones. Too much blood.
Tal swallowed with difficulty. “What do you want with me?”
“Show me.” His eyes widened greedily.
“Show you what?”
“Your gift.”
Waylon. Waylon missing. Waylon searching for her. No red. No gold. No fire.
“You mean my singing voice? Sorry to disappoint. This bard doesn’t work well under pressure.” The same searing pain she felt outside the tavern split her head again. She screamed, straining against her invisible bonds, and just as suddenly, it was gone.
“You’ll find that I don’t have patience for nonsense. Now, if you please.” He waved his hand to signal for her to proceed.
Sybil’s vision. The Pyrie standing opposite her.