The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) Read online

Page 18


  Lady Ymowyn winced. “I’m sorry,” she said, “He’s having a bad day.” She went to his side and stroked Warren’s mane as she whispered softly to him. He stood motionless and stared into the shadowy ruins beyond the wall.

  Garrett exhaled slowly and offered the Lethians a thin smile.

  Crane put his knife away and put his hand on Mujah’s shoulder, giving Garrett a reproachful look.

  Mujah cocked his head to the side, his eyes still on Scupp who sat on her haunches at the garden gate, her head hung low. “Why do you want to eat my head?” Mujah asked, “I mean, does it taste better than the rest of me?”

  Scupp made no answer, and her brother quickly clamped his mouth shut, thinking better of whatever he had been about to say.

  “It’s your brains,” Garrett sighed, “Ghouls like to eat the brains of people… after they die… I think it’s because they can taste your memories.”

  “That’s why you sniffed our hair?” Crane asked, a look of disgust on his face.

  “Yeah,” Scupp answered, “I’m sorry.”

  “What did it smell like?” Mujah asked.

  Scupp gave him a little smile. “You smell like the first moon o’ summer… like cool water when you’re dyin’ o’ thirst.”

  Mujah gave her a bemused smile and then looked up at Crane. “What’d he smell like?” he asked.

  Scupp’s face darkened, and her eyes fell. “He smelled all right…”

  Crane narrowed his eyes.

  “No, really, what’d he smell like?” Mujah insisted.

  Scupp looked at Crane and smiled again. “My Ma always told me there were some places you jus’ don’t wanna go diggin’.”

  Crane frowned. “I think we better go,” he said.

  Diggs lifted his paw. “I think your brain smells all right,” he offered.

  “All right,” Garrett said, channeling his best imitation of Matron Brix, “That’s enough!” He pointed to the center of the garden. “I want everybody to line up there, facing the tree! You too, Warren!”

  Warren looked a bit startled by Garrett’s tone, but he stepped back from the wall and allowed Lady Ymowyn to guide him back toward the others.

  Garrett looked at the Lethian boys and pointed to where he wanted them to stand. After a tense moment, they followed his instructions, placing themselves at the end of the line of ghouls with Crane and Warren standing shoulder to shoulder and eyeing each other warily.

  “Lady Ymowyn,” Garrett called out, “I want you on the end.”

  The fox woman, who had been drifting toward the wall, lifted her paws. “I’m just here to watch, my dear,” she laughed.

  “Then watch while you’re standing in line like everybody else,” Garrett barked.

  Ymowyn’s green eyes went wide. “As you command, Kingslayer!” she mumbled as she moved to take her place at the end of the line.

  “Kingslayer?” Crane said.

  Garrett shook his head. “I’ll tell you later,” he sighed, “Now I want Warren, Crane, Scupp, Mujah, and Ymowyn, in that order.”

  Crane and Warren both opened their mouths to protest simultaneously, but Garrett’s glare shut them just as quick.

  “Where do I stand?” Diggs asked.

  “Over here by me,” Garrett said.

  Digg’s expression brightened. “So, I’m like your apprentice now?” he asked.

  “No,” Garrett said, “you’re gonna be the target.”

  “What?” Diggs’s eyes bulged.

  “Just stand there,” Garrett said, pointing to a clear patch of ground, “You’ll be fine.”

  “But I’d rather…” Diggs began, but Garrett cut him off.

  “The rest of you, hold hands!” Garrett shouted.

  “What?” Warren exclaimed.

  Crane looked as dubious as the big ghoul.

  “Do I need to repeat myself?” Garrett roared, his voice cracking a little. How did Matron Brix manage to keep shouting all the time? He must need more practice.

  “Hold hands, now!” he shouted.

  The humans, ghouls, and the Kirikin reached out and grasped one another’s hands. Only Mujah seemed completely at ease, an eager grin on his face as he stood between Scupp and Ymowyn, holding their paws in his small hands, as he watched Garrett for his next instruction.

  “Now we’re gonna stand like this until you all remember why you came here!” Garrett growled as he paced up and down the line, “Until you all forget about being ghouls or humans or whatever you called yourselves before you came here. Because, as of right now, you are all mages!”

  The curl of Warren’s lip straightened itself out instantly in the withering heat of Garrett’s glare.

  “It doesn’t matter what you were before today,” Garrett said, “From here on out, you are all mages, students of Wild Magic, as it was taught to me by my teacher, and now I’m gonna teach it to you.”

  He paused, letting his gaze wander over each of them in turn. “There are things out there,” he said, his voice growing hoarse from all the shouting, “Things that wanna get in here and hurt us all. Things that will kill you. Things that are made of nightmares, and they aren’t scared of your knives or your claws or anything you can hit ‘em with. Doesn’t matter how strong you are or how brave you are. They don’t care.

  “I only know one thing they are afraid of, and that’s Wild Magic. If you learn what I teach you, you don’t have to be afraid of them, ‘cause they’re gonna be afraid of you! Now look at each other!”

  The line of students shared uneasy glances.

  “The person standing beside you isn’t a monster,” Garrett said, “I’ve seen real monsters, and I know maybe you have too. So that person next to you, holding your hand, that’s your friend, and when the real monsters come, they’re gonna save your life… and you’re gonna save theirs.”

  Garrett regarded them all coldly for a moment, letting his words sink in. Warren and Crane both looked a bit crestfallen as though his words had stirred up something dark inside them.

  “All right,” Garrett said, “you can let go now.”

  The others let their hands drop to their side, all except Mujah and Scupp who still held a moment longer, sharing a little smile. Scupp looked a bit sheepish and apologetic, but Mujah had apparently already forgiven her for wanting to eat his head.

  Garrett picked up his satchel and passed out a canister of essence to each of the people in line. He paused when he came to Lady Ymowyn at the end of the line. She held her hands behind her back and shook her head, a faintly fearful look on her face.

  Garrett nodded and kept the last canister for himself.

  “What about me?” Diggs asked hopefully.

  Garrett gave the ghoul a grim smile. “You won’t be needing one,” he said.

  Diggs whined and raised his shaggy arms at the unfairness of it all, but said nothing.

  “Some of you are new here,” Garrett said, “so we’ll start with the basics. The first thing you’re going to learn is how to make faefire. It was one of the first things I learned how to do, and it saved my life more than once.”

  “What’s faefire?” Crane asked.

  “It’s like hittin’ somebody in the face with a bucket o’ pretty colors,” Scupp chuckled.

  “I’ll teach you the words to say, and then we’ll work on learning how to draw the magic out of the flask through your hands,” Garrett said, “The ghouls drink the stuff to make it work, but, since you’re humans, I’m hoping you’ll be able to do it the way I do.”

  “You drink it?” Mujah asked, eyeing the glowing green ooze through the glass viewport of his essence flask.

  “Yeah,” Scupp said, patting him on the shoulder, “It tastes awful!”

  Diggs raised his paw. “I like the taste,” he murmured.

  “Once you learn how to channel the essence and call faefire into being, we’re gonna work on aiming it where you want it to go,” Garrett said, “and I thought it would be more fun if we had a moving target to aim at.” He ges
tured toward Diggs who groaned and raised his hands in a what did I do to deserve this expression.

  “Yeah, I like this idea,” Scupp chuckled evilly.

  “Me too,” Warren said, unstoppering his flask.

  “You’re gonna show ‘em the non-burny version of the spell, right?” Diggs whined.

  Garrett ignored him, turning to face the two Lethian boys. “Now the words I want you to say are, Veiarnna te noulleanna,” Garrett said.

  “That’s the non-burny version, Scupp!” Diggs said, “The non-burny version!”

  Scupp gave her brother an evil grin as she lowered her snout to Mujah’s ear. “You ever seen a ghoul dance before?” she whispered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Garrett returned to Mrs. Veranu’s pet shop the following day with a satchel full of empty canisters and a faint hope of finding Marla there again. He entered the shop and quickly shut the door behind him, his eyes adjusting slowly to the gloom within.

  Marla’s mother lowered her hand from shielding her own eyes against the pale light of day that had spilled in, briefly, through the open door. She tugged down the red scarf that covered her lips and smiled at him.

  “Good afternoon, Garrett,” she said. Then, noticing his questioning look, she added, “It’s just you and I today. Marla is with the Valfrei.”

  “Oh,” Garrett said, his heart sinking.

  “Thank you for coming,” Mrs. Veranu said, opening the little gate and ushering him toward the back room, “Please come and sit with me a while.”

  Garrett followed her into the storeroom. He slung his satchel over the back of a chair and took a seat at the stained wooden table, grateful for the stack of Marla’s books that acted like a miniature wall between himself and the chair where Mrs. Veranu sat down across from him.

  Mrs. Veranu frowned and then lifted the books and placed them aside, opening up the space between her and Garrett. She leaned forward on her elbows and sighed.

  “I know that we’ve never really had a chance to talk, Garrett,” she said, “I suppose that it’s my fault. I’ve never been very good at this… at being a mother.”

  “What?” Garrett exclaimed.

  “It’s true,” Mrs. Veranu chuckled, “I never saw myself as anyone’s mother. I mean, I hardly knew my own mother. How could I have been expected to have any idea of what to do?”

  “You’re a great mom,” Garrett said, “Marla’s great too, and she loves you.”

  Mrs. Veranu laughed and shook her head. “I think Marla is great, in spite of me. I never had any idea how to raise a daughter… so I treated her like my friend. It’s worked well enough so far, but… sometimes, I think she needs more than I know how to give her.”

  Garrett said nothing, grateful at least that she hadn’t brought up the subject of the Songreaver.

  Mrs. Veranu sat back in her chair and let her gaze drift across the room. “Sometimes I feel like I am only her nursemaid, taking care of her while she grows… and her real parents are going to come someday and take her away from me,” she said, her voice lowering to a whisper, “There have been times in the past, I am ashamed to admit, when I took comfort in that little fantasy… Now, it is the nightmare that haunts my sleep.”

  Garrett remained silent for a moment, gathering his courage before he spoke. “We won’t let them take her from us.” He said.

  Mrs. Veranu’s amber eyes turned upon him, studying him with an inhuman intensity. The corner of her mouth twisted upward in a wry smile. “You remind me of him,” she said.

  “Who?” Garrett asked.

  “Marla’s father,” she said, “He would always say things like that… always ready to stand in the gap and face whatever danger was bearing down on us, as though he alone, by force of will, could turn day into night.” She laughed, looking away again.

  Garrett blushed. “I mean it,” he insisted, “I won’t let them take her away.”

  The smile faded from Mrs. Veranu’s face, and she looked at him again. “Garrett,” she said, “do you love my daughter?”

  Garrett flinched.

  “Do you love my daughter?” Mrs. Veranu repeated the question slowly, leaning forward to look him directly in the eyes.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Mrs. Veranu’s lips trembled, and she shook her head gently from side to side. “Then let her go,” she whispered.

  Garrett felt as though he had just fallen into an icy river, and black waters were dragging him down. He stared back at the vampire woman, his eyes wide with disbelief.

  “Just… let her go,” Mrs. Veranu sighed. She sank back into her chair with her hands over her eyes.

  “What do you mean?” Garrett asked.

  Mrs. Veranu let her hands fall and laid her head back, looking at the ceiling. “Marla doesn’t remember her father,” she said, “She doesn’t know that the reason she cares so much about you is because you are so like him, Garrett. You’re so ready to be a hero.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Garrett demanded.

  She looked at him again with no trace of warmth in her golden eyes. “Heroes die,” she said.

  Garrett shook his head. “I don’t know what happened to Marla’s dad,” he said, “but…”

  Mrs. Veranu’s eyes flared with anger, and she interrupted him. “Do you want to know what happened to him?” she demanded.

  Garrett fell silent.

  “Do you want to know why Marla had to grow up without a father… why I have to face every day alone with my fears and doubts and sorrows… why Marla has to spend her life running from her fate with nothing but a scared, witless girl for a mother and a couple of foolhardy necromancers standing between her and the creatures that would devour her soul? Do you want to know why he left his own daughter to the mercy of his cursed legacy? Do you want to know what my husband gained by his death?”

  Mrs. Veranu wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, hissing through her pointed teeth as she regained her composure.

  “An emissary from across the sea came to Thrinaar,” she said, “an ambassador from another tribe of dragons. They had learned that the Thrinnians possessed the Queen’s Tears and they demanded a share of them. The emissary was horrified to learn what we had done with the tears… disgusted at what we had become, men and dragons mingled as one. He called it an abomination. Things were going badly. The emissary spoke of cleansing our sin from the world… The fate of every vampire in Thrinaar hung in the balance. I wanted to run… to take our baby and flee and never look back…

  “But my husband… he was a hero,” she sighed, “Everything I loved about him, all that made him so different from the others, it doomed him. It doomed him and took him from us… He didn’t even tell me what he was planning… I had to learn of it from your uncle, but, by then, it was too late to stop him.

  “You see, the emissary demanded the Queen’s Tears, and it was the only way to satisfy his demand. My husband, Marla’s father, carried the bottomless sorrow of the Dragon Queen in his veins, and he surrendered his life to the emissary in exchange for the lives of his people… our lives.”

  She shuddered and fell silent, her eyes downcast.

  “It’s in Marla now too, isn’t it?” Garrett asked.

  Mrs. Veranu nodded. “That’s why she is so important,” she said, “That’s why she can never be free of them.”

  Garrett thought for a moment. “She doesn’t seem sad,” he said.

  “What?” Mrs. Veranu said, looking up from the table.

  “Marla doesn’t seem sad,” Garrett said, “I mean, sometimes she does, but it’s not like the bottomless sorrow of the Dragon Queen or anything. She just seems kinda normal sad.”

  Mrs. Veranu gave him a bitter laugh. “And you don’t seem like you have the soul of a murderous tyrant flitting around inside you either,” she said.

  Garrett stiffened. “I took the power of the Songreaver because I wanted to help people with it,” he protested, “It doesn’t make me the Songreaver!”

  Mrs. Veran
u shrugged. “That remains to be seen,” she said, “In any case, I’m a little concerned that my daughter is spending so much time with a sorcerer who dabbles in ancient evils, no matter how good his intentions might be.”

  “It isn’t evil!” Garrett said, “Look, suppose a Chadirian picks up a sword and uses it to kill good people… That’s evil, right? But suppose he dies, and then a good person picks up the sword and uses it to fight bad people. The sword is just a sword… It’s not good or evil, it’s just how you use it that matters!”

  Mrs. Veranu laughed again. “You’ve just illustrated my point exactly, Garrett!” she said, “You think you’re doing good by picking up the Chadirian’s sword and turning it against his comrades. I’m not so sure they would see it the same way! What gives you the right to decide who is evil and who is good? Does your power give you that right?”

  “What gives you the right to put people in cages and sell them like pets?” Garrett shouted.

  Mrs. Veranu’s eyes went wide, and she was instantly on her feet, glaring down at him with bared fangs.

  Garrett shoved himself back from the table, knocking his chair over as he stood, sending the empty canisters in his satchel clattering and rolling across the floor. He stared back at Mrs. Veranu with cold rage seething in his chest.

  The vampire woman took three heavy breaths and then froze perfectly still, her golden eyes unblinking.

  Garrett made no move. The icy chill drowned out the fear in his heart, and he faced her unflinchingly.

  Suddenly Lyssa Veranu burst into girlish laughter, all traces of rage melting away in an instant.

  Garrett stared at her in confusion.

  “You’ve been…” she said, gasping for air through her laughter, “You’ve been waiting a long time to say that, Garrett. I know you have.”

  Garrett narrowed his eyes.

  Mrs. Veranu casually shoved the table aside and caught him in a tight hug, planting a hard kiss on the top of his hood. “Bless you, Garrett,” she laughed, “You are my hero!” She released him to step back and smile at him.

  “I don’t understand,” he said.