Higher Power (Prophecy Of The Cataclysm Book One), page 8
“I know this tune,” she said, her voice soft. “We danced to it the first time we kissed. He was drunk. I wasn’t. But I let him take me to bed anyway.”
Cole winced. He didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” he said. “Why don’t we walk you home? You look tired.”
Kat’s gaze shifted to him, her eyes narrowed. “Leave? Now? The fun is only just started.” She got up, pushing her chair back hard enough to topple it over. Before Cole could even think to stop her, she climbed up on the table. It creaked ominously under her weight. “Who wants to hear a real song?” she shouted so loudly the rest of the tavern couldn’t help but hear. The sound of the music faded as everyone turned toward them.
Sean’s normally placid expression grew stormy. Cole reached up and laid a hand on Kat’s leg. “Maybe you should --”
She kicked his hand away. “Don’t bother me now, can’t you see I’m performing?” She cleared her throat. “Now, for a real drinking song.” Her badly off tune voice rang through the silence as she sang a string of bawdy lyrics which quickly had Lauren clasping her hands to her lips in shock.
Laughter and cheers soon erupted around them. And then someone stomped his foot, creating a rhythm to go with the lines, and soon half the tavern was following suit. Cole sat helpless, unsure whether it was best to intervene or simply let her go on until she wore herself out.
The table decided the matter for him. With a thunderous crack, the overburdened wood snapped, spilling Kat to the floor. Sean jerked Lauren back fast enough to keep her from being struck. Cole, too slow to move, got a good solid whack across his thighs as part of the table struck him.
Stunned silence enveloped the room. Kat blinked blearily up at the ceiling. “Jesse always thought that was a funny song.” Then she passed out.
The red-faced barkeep puffed his way over to them. “I hope one of you has enough money to pay for this mess. This is a decent sort of place, we don’t take kindly to this sort of thing.”
“We’ll pay.” Sean’s expression was tight. He drew some coins from his money pouch and passed them to the barkeep.
The man closed his things fingers around the coins. “Get your friend and get out of here.”
Cole winced as he stood. He was going to be bruised in the morning, he had no doubt. He leaned over and lifted Kat by the shoulders, then cast an imploring look at his brother. Kat was no fragile flower and even strong as he was, Cole knew he couldn’t manage to carry her all the way back to the house by himself.
A pinched line appeared between Sean’s eyes as he bent to grasp Kat’s ankles. He grunted as they lifted her. Lauren laid a hand on his elbow. “We’ll take her back to our house. She wouldn’t like certain people seeing her in this shape.”
Sean scowled, but nodded a yes to his wife. Cole let out a relieved breath. He’d been trying to think of a way to ask his brother for exactly such a favor and was grateful Lauren had done so instead.
Together the two men hauled Kat’s limp body from The Grey Goose and up the street toward their house.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Manny perched on the roof of the Guild House and stared up at the stars. They were dim tonight, hiding the strength of their light from the world below. Though the stars were the province of the fire spirit and Manny’s calling was to the spirit of air, he still could read a dark portent in the fading brilliance of their glow.
He tasted the air on his tongue, but it could tell him nothing fouled as it was with the coal ash. This was the worst part of living in Marigold, here, he had no chance of reaching oneness with his kindred spirit. How he longed for the wide open spaces and clear air of Kartesk, which the people of Hyacinth referred to as the Wild Lands.
A cloud slipped over the moon, hiding her face. Manny frowned. The air spirit was agitated. He was not yet worthy to be blessed by her presence, but she sometimes sent him signs to let him know she recognized his quest to connect with her.
With no trees or open bodies of water in sight, Manny couldn’t know the state of the other spirits. But if both air and fire were troubled it was likely earth and water were as well. Bad omens.
Attaining oneness with the air spirit was not going to happen this night. Likely it never would so long as he lived in this place of stone walls. It would be unwell were he to die before reaching this highest of goals, but he had known the danger when he bound himself to Jesse. As he had known there could be no turning back once he had.
Manny climbed off the roof using a rope attached to the chimney. When he first came to live in the place with Jesse, he had simply used the wooden slats to climb up and down the side of the building. But Jesse had soon asked him to use a rope instead as he feared Manny might fall. A request from Jesse’s lips was as an order to Manny’s ears and he was quick to comply. It did make the going easier.
The rope hung down to the ledge of the open bedroom window. Manny disliked sleeping indoors, but could tolerate it so long as the window remained open in order to allow the air spirit easy access to his dreams.
He slipped through the window and walked on bare feet to the pallet at the foot of Jesse’s bed.
“Have any luck?” Jesse asked around a yawn.
“No.” Manny lay down. “But something has the spirits agitated.” He gazed up at the ceiling. “We will go tomorrow to speak with this Duke Victor Lassard?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure it’s the greatest idea, but Lady Anastasia certainly paid me well enough to risk my life. It’s not like it would be the first time.” He fell silent, but it was the sort of silence which spoke of a man carefully weighing the next words to pass his lips.
“You don’t have to come,” Jesse said. “This is a little different from the kind of things we’ve done before. If something goes wrong and I have to try and fight my way out it could be bad. They probably won’t even let me take a weapon when I talk to the Duke. And if there is trouble and I somehow manage to escape with my head still attached, I’ll be a wanted man. We’ll have to leave Hyacinth.”
“Would you have me stay?” Were it up to Manny, he would never leave Jesse’s side, but sometimes Jesse had other ideas. If Manny was told to stay, he would stay, though he would not like it. It was wrong for him to be separate from the one to whom he was bound.
Jesse sighed. “I’d rather have you go so I can have someone to watch my back. Brandon doesn’t count. I don’t trust him.”
“Then I will go.”
“All right. Good. We better get some sleep then, I want to leave early.”
Manny lay awake listening to Jesse’s breaths even out into the rhythms of sleep. His thoughts turned to the spirits, as they always did before he closed his eyes each night. But on this particular night, his thoughts were filled with worry. The spirits were not unsettled by trivial things. Something was about to happen. Something big, and probably not good. And the spirits were warning him to keep his eyes open.
A shiver of excitement rolled through him. This was it. If he could accomplish whatever task the spirits were about to set before him then he would finally achieve oneness with the air spirit. He was certain of it. He only had to be willing to do anything which was required of him. And he was.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Brandon tilted his head toward the sun and smiled. Blue Bell’s slow, easy pace as she plodded along behind Lily only added to his feeling of contentment. It was nice to be out on the open road and away from the city. Nice to drink in the quiet and peaceful countryside.
Rolling green fields stretched away on their left, while a thickly wooded forest rose up on the right. Birds trilled out at them as they passed. Now and then they came across a fellow traveler who they might pass a word or two with, but mostly they had the road to themselves.
Around midday, Brandon became aware of people in the forest. People watching them. But he didn’t say anything. He waited, curious to see if Manny would notice as well.
“Someone is following us,” Manny said about ten minutes later, never breaking his stride. “They hide among the trees.”
Jesse cursed under his breath. “How many?”
Manny shrugged. Brandon could have told them he’d detected fourteen separate footsteps, but nobody bothered to ask him. It wasn’t uncommon for travelers to be accosted along the roadways but it usually happened at dusk. It was a bold move to try it in broad daylight.
A man stepped out in front of them, blocking the way. He was tall and broad shouldered, clad in homespun rags clearly sewn together by someone who had little skill with a needle. “Good day, gents.” His smile was a flash of rotting teeth beneath his thick, black beard. “Fine day for a ride, eh?”
“I suppose it is,” Jesse said tightly. “But if you’ll excuse us, we're kind of in a hurry.”
“Oh, yeah.” The man nodded. “You’ll be wanting to get off this road by nightfall, I imagine. Can’t say as I blame you any. I hear tell of people being attacked by bandits along this way. It’s a crying shame ain’t it? Seems like a man can’t hardly step outside his own door without running into some lowdown outlaws. Where you gents headed?” His gaze briefly shifted to Manny and the twin scimitars strapped to his bare back. Brandon detected a slight flash of uncertainty in the bandit’s dark eyes.
“No offense,” Jesse leaned slightly back in the saddle, resting his hands on his thighs, “but it isn’t any of your business.”
“Now, that’s not very friendly,” the man said. “Here I am, naught but a simple traveler trying to strike up a friendly conversation to pass the time of day. No need in getting hostile.”
So, the man was going to go through with it despite Manny’s intimidating presence. No doubt he considered his greater numbers the advantage. And of course his glance had slid off Brandon without a moment’s hesitation. People often discounted him as a threat. Much to their misfortune.
A glint of sunlight caught the corner of Brandon’s eye. He lowered his head and scratched the back of his neck, taking a peek to the right as he did so. Among the leafy green canopy of a nearby tree protruded the tip of an arrowhead.
He followed the arrow’s likely trajectory straight to the spot between Jesse’s shoulder blades. No wonder the bandit leader wasn’t backing off, he had an ace up his sleeve. And if not for the brief glint of sunlight Brandon never would have known the person in the tree was there. Even now, knowing, he could hear no hint of breath, no subtle shifting of position, nothing. Fascinating.
Brandon slid his left hand down his calf to where a small dagger was hidden in his boot.
“Let’s drop all this nonsense, shall we?” A hint of anger had crept into Jesse’s tone. “You’re an outlaw, a bandit, a stinking thief, whatever you like to call yourself. Fine, I get it. But you really don’t want to do this. You’d be better off waiting for some fat merchant or prissy Lord to come along. Believe me, you’ll be much happier with the outcome. Because this is not going to end well for you.”
The man’s falsely pleasant smile vanished. “You got a high opinion of yourself, don’t you, boy? Maybe it’s time somebody took you down.”
Brandon caught the hint of movement warning the man was about to raise his hand to signal the hidden archer. He pulled his dagger and threw it as he slid off the side of his horse. A sharp cry rang out, followed by a crashing sound and a thud as the archer fell from the tree.
Before anyone else could react, Jesse drew his sword and kicked his mare forward. With a single, deadly swipe he sent the bandit leader’s head sailing through the air. Men boiled out of the woods, yelling and waving weapons.
Manny plunged into them, his twin scimitars moving as extensions of his arms. Blood splattered the roadway as he slit throats and ripped open stomachs. Jesse remained on horseback, fighting with the blade of his sword and the slash of Lily’s hooves. The sound of steel on steel accompanied by the cries of the dying echoed through the stillness of the day.
Brandon stayed back out of the fray, cooing softly to calm Blue Bell as he watched his companions fight side by side like a well oiled machine. If he was needed he would jump in, but he preferred to stay clear of these sorts of things as a rule. He was an assassin after all, not a warrior.
The fight was brief and when it was over, the road was littered with bodies. Manny bore several cuts on his arm and one across his chin, but he ignored the flow of his own blood in favor of tending the deep gash in Jesse’s right calf.
“Stay here, girl,” Brandon whispered into Blue Bell’s ear. Then he slipped into the forest. Dappled sunlight cast dancing shadows across the trees. The coppery scent of blood mingled oddly with the scent of dry earth and growing things.
Brandon found the archer laying at the base of a tree. At first glance, she appeared to be a child of about ten, but when he drew closer he spotted a slender, pointed ear partially hidden by the strands of her short red hair. An elf. How fascinating. Brandon’s dagger was imbedded in her shoulder, blood dripping from the wound. A gash across her temple told him she’d hit the exposed roots of the tree when she fell.
He crouched beside her, watching for the steady rise and fall of her chest. She was still alive. He carefully retrieved her bow and quiver of arrows, then searched her for other weapons. Beneath her patchwork shirt, a tightly fitted black vest held a surprising array of bladed weapons, each of which had clearly been custom made to fit her child-sized hands.
An assassin. Curious. Brandon wondered what she was doing running around the forest with common thieves. Further inspection led him to find miniature daggers secreted in her boots, two palm guns, a half dozen throwing stars, a shortened form of katana strapped to her back, and a small brown satchel which, when opened, revealed a dart gun, a dozen darts, and several vials of different colored liquid. She was even better equipped than he was. It was amazing she could even walk, much less climb trees, loaded down with so much hardware.
He left the blue stone hanging around her neck for last. She hardly seemed the sort to go in for pretty baubles; he was guessing it had some kind of magical properties and was wary of touching it. Blades and bullets didn’t faze him, but magic was a different story.
He wrapped his fingers around the chain and lifted the stone over her head, half expecting to be turned into something nasty or zapped into dust. Neither happened. The stone simply lay there in his palm, looking completely innocuous and yet feeling dangerous all the same.
Brandon slipped the stone into his pocket, then carefully lifted the woman’s limp body into his arms and carried her from the woods.
Jesse and Manny were standing by the horses. “Where did you...” Jesse’s voice trailed off as his gaze landed on the woman. “Is that an elf?”
“Why, yes she is.” Brandon grinned. “She was up a tree with an arrow aimed at your back, so I thought I better distract her.” He paused a moment. “You’re welcome.”
Jesse frowned. “Since you brought her back with you, am I safe in assuming she’s still alive?”
“For the moment, anyway.” He laid the woman down on the road well away from the battle carnage. “She hit her head when she fell from the tree, so she has a gash on the side of her head. Also, you know, my dagger is in her shoulder.”
“And yet she’s alive.” Jesse’s brow furrowed. “You missed?”
Brandon’s smile sharpened. But he knew an intentional insult when he heard one and this was not it. Jesse would never be intentionally insulting. Not to him. So he could shrug it off. “I never miss. Manny, can you help her?”
Manny nodded. He left Jesse’s side and came to crouch beside the woman.
“What do you intend to do with her?” Jesse asked, though both his tone and expression suggested he already knew what Brandon was going to say.
“Why, take her with us, of course. What kind of men would we be if we left a woman wounded and defenseless on the side of the road? I’m shocked you even have to ask.”
“She did try to kill me.”
Brandon shrugged. “She was under orders. But since her leader is now beyond caring whether she follows through with those orders or not, I’m betting you won’t have any more trouble with her.”
“Yeah, betting with my life.” Jesse shook his head as he watched Manny bandage the elf’s shoulder. “We can’t wait around to see if she’s going to wake up. I want to make Monroe by nightfall and this little incident has already slowed us down too much.”
“No problem,” Brandon said. “I’ll ride her double with me on Blue Bell. She hardly weighs anything at all.”
Jesse eyed him. “She might be a little cranky when she wakes up.”
Brandon giggled. “I know.” This day was getting better by the minute. He wondered if the woman would fight to try and escape them. He hoped so, that could be fun. He turned to his mare and lifted his bedroll from the side of the saddle.
“What are you doing now?” Jesse asked.
“Why, I’m going to get her weapons, of course.” Brandon tucked the bedroll under his arm and headed for the woods. “It would be rude to leave them behind.”
Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something about crazy assassins under his breath. Brandon pretended not to hear. He didn’t mind being thought of as crazy. It was something he was used to. It might even be true.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kat groaned herself awake. The room was dark save for the sunlight peeking around the edges of the window shutters. She smacked her lips and grimaced. Her mouth tasted like somebody’s dirty socks.
She sat up, clutching her roiling stomach, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Bile rose up in the back of her throat; she forced herself to swallow it back down. Running her hand through the tangled mass of her hair, she tried to recall how she’d made it back to the Guild House. No luck. Most of the night before was a total blur. She could barely even remember Cole and the others joining her at the tavern.
