The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (10 page)

“This is
what?
” Tannyl called out. “We’ve been traveling in circles all morning. The camp we left is a few hundred paces from where we’re standing.”

“It is?” Erlen asked, seemingly surprised. He flitted about a broad oak tree and appeared again at the front of the group. “Well, this is it, or my name isn’t Erlen Dragontamer. And, I assure you, it is. For I tame dragons with reckless abandon and deft skill.”

Sachihiro heard Tannyl sigh, but the Hunter said nothing more.

“Well, what now, good Dragontamer?” Sachihiro asked, swinging his lute to his back.

Erlen nodded vigorously, grinning. “I told you I’d take you to the Doorway. I am Erlen Dragontamer, after all, a sprite of his word. Did you know I also tame dragons? There was this one time—”

An arrow appeared in the trunk of the oak, vibrating a hair’s width from the Dragontamer. “Enough,” Tannyl growled. “Open it.”

“Leave the poor thing alone,” Adelaide said. “He’s helping us, unlike
you.
”

Sachihiro held his breath as he looked from the girl to Tannyl and back again. A tense silence enveloped the group as the elf and girl stared at each other. Sachihiro forced a laugh to break the tension.

“Hey, Erlen, how ‘bout you just get us to the Fae Wyld and we can tell stories later? My fingers are a bit tired from all the playing anyhow.”

“Marvelous idea,” Erlen shouted, snapping to attention. “I shall guide us into the Fae Wyld and then, and only then, will I bestow upon you the epic story of how one Dragontamer conquered a whole village of dragons. For I am—”

Another arrow split the air, passing so near the sprite that Sachihiro thought it had actually connected. Erlen scowled at Tannyl and made a show of brushing off his chest and straightening his garb.

He then turned to the oak and knocked on it as one would a door. The tree shifted, its bark twisting and changing. A pair of eyes formed, as did a nose, and mouth. A long branch curled toward the trunk, wrapped itself around Tannyl’s arrow and pulled it out.

“What is the meaning of this? Outsyders and an arrow in my trunk?” The voice from the tree was full bodied and echoed loudly in the dense forest.

“Sweet Mother,” Sachihiro whispered.

“I am Erlen Dragontamer, and I—”

“I know who you are, sprite. If you must enter, then do so, but leave these Outsyders. They have no business here. You should not have brought them to my Doorway. Now, begone.”

Erlen turned to Sachihiro, shrugged and flew swiftly away. As he passed the oak, he vanished. The oak twisted and extended its arms.

“Begone, I said.”

“Hey, we need to get to the Fae Wyld,” Sachihiro protested. “It’s important. Erlen said he’d take us.”

“No,” the tree said.

Alexander stepped beside Sachihiro, Adelaide pinned to his side. She looked small and scared all of a sudden, wholly unlike the impetuous child that had challenged Tannyl. He might have been unnerved as well if his mind wasn’t busy sculpting the strange encounter into verse.
What rhymes with oak?

“We didn’t mean to offend you,” Alexander said, a slight quiver in his voice. “We’re taking this girl, Adelaide, to Wolverhampton, and we were told it would be safer to travel through the Fae Wyld.”

“No,” said the tree.

“But I need to see Thiladir,” Adelaide said weakly. “Miss Hastings said—”

“No.”

“Well, this was a waste of time,” Jaydan said.

Tannyl pushed between Sachihiro and Alexander, took the arrow that hung from the oak’s branch, and slid it back into his quiver. He stared at the forest sentinel and then calmly said, “We wish an audience with Hilaros, All-Mother of the Fae Wyld. Fae’Mera’Hahn’Na’Ling has blessed me for the passage and I vouch for the others before you.”

The tree regarded Tannyl for a long moment. “You…” It shifted, the bark twisting like corded muscle. “Very well, elf, you may enter.”

“What was that?” Sachihiro asked, gaping at Tannyl. “How did you do that?”

He turned and shook his head. “Does it matter? We’re in, let’s go and get this over with.”

Sachihiro looked back at the oak and saw it had returned to its previous form. He approached it and ran his hand over the bark. It felt no different than any other, though it held warmth that was unfitting to a tree.

“Well, how do we get in?”

If anyone responded, Sachihiro didn’t hear it, for hands found his back and propelled him sprawling past the tree. He shouted, but heard nothing. And suddenly, he was falling.

Jaydan stifled a laugh and shook his head. “That’s one way to get him to shut up,” he said, having seen the Teller vanish. “Should have tried that before.”

“That was
wicked,
” Adelaide said.

She approached the place Sachihiro had disappeared and swiped her hand at the air. As it crossed the line between the oak and another nearby tree, it vanished at the wrist. She gasped, recoiled, saw her hand reappear, and giggled.

“It was so warm,” she said. She turned back to face the group, a giant smile on her freckled face. With an ill-fitting wolf dress she looked ridiculous. But the joy she felt was undeniable. Jaydan didn’t think it was possible to find such enthusiasm, given all that had occurred. He envied Adelaide in that moment. If he could only shut down his ever-racing thoughts, perhaps he could find the same bliss.

Tannyl grunted. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jaydan squinted at the invisible doorway and scratched at his ear. If he turned his mind to it, he could detect a faint trace of magical energy working in contrast to the flow everywhere else in the forest. But it was faint, and faded in and out. Easy to miss. Even staring straight at it, he had trouble discerning it. Usually, any disturbance in the magic energy was readily apparent. It was a kaleidoscope of colors and trails, emanating in and around everything. Living or not, it was there. He rarely understood it, but could always
see
it. The Fae Doorway was either expertly crafted or extremely powerful. He reached into his satchel and produced a small glass vial and wax stopper.

“We don’t have time for that, Jaydan,” Tannyl said firmly. He stepped past the tree and was gone.

Jaydan sighed and replaced his collection tools. He just wanted a sample, something to study. If he couldn’t learn more about the strange application of magic then what good was it? He couldn’t expand his own powers without thorough examination of all he didn’t understand. And if he couldn’t discover that power, he could never fix…

A small hand found his and squeezed tight. He looked down to see Adelaide staring back at him. Her other hand was linked with Alexander’s. The Farmer seemed to have turned to stone, eyes fixed on the magical gateway. The aura around the man was weak and pale in comparison to his own. He didn’t have the ability to use magic. Which meant he wasn’t a threat. That made Jaydan trust him. He looked closely at Adelaide and opened his mind to her aura for the first time.

He gasped.

“Are you scared too, Jaydan?” she asked, eyes wide, the gold one shimmering, the gray one dull and forbidding.

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, I just… you squeezed my hand a little hard. Startled me, is all.”

“Sorry,” she said, and loosened her grip.

He stole another glance at the girl. It was like nothing he had ever seen. Tendrils of golden energy twisted about her body, intertwined with wisps of black, darker than any night. The energy swirled and mixed, pulsed and faded. He
looked
closer and had to suppress another gasp. The magic wasn’t coming from her or even to her. In fact, it didn’t seem to contact her physical form at all, instead acting like a buffer between the child and the magic of the world that raged all around her. The girl herself was Void. But not like Alexander. She was well and truly barren of any magical energy.
Nothing
was without magic. Even the rocks and soil of the world glowed with residual magic. The air swam with it. Even a corpse contained magic. It made up
everything. Everything except Addy,
he corrected himself.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Alexander asked.

“Oh, just trying to prepare myself,” he said, and nodded at the gateway. “Never done anything like this.” His hands were shaking, and he prayed Adelaide wouldn’t notice. He squeezed her hand to still it.

Alexander looked relieved and smiled. “Me either, but we have to do it. For Addy.”

“I’m not scared,” she said, and pulled strongly at the two larger adults, leading them between the trees.

As they stepped into the unknown together, Jaydan couldn’t help but look at the girl again and whisper, “What are you?” Luckily, his words were lost in a sudden rush of wind and light.

Chapter Ten

A LARGE HUMAN landed face first in the middle of the Archway with a loud grunt and rolled up, spitting dirt and grass. The Gorax had only managed to collect itself when four more humans entered the Fae Wyld. These arrived with more grace than the first, but still stumbled slightly upon landing on the floating island. It pushed aside stacks of paper with its spindly hands and leaned forward, taking a moment to study the newcomers.
Alfurians,
it pondered.
How strange.

“Thanks a lot, Tannyl,” the burly one said to the one with dark hair and a bow of wood. The Gorax noticed at that moment that the dark-haired one was an elf. He looked older than he smelled. And he smelled old.

The elf laughed and waved a dismissive hand at the man with grass in his teeth. “You’re still alive, quit complaining.”

There was a small human with a tall one. Both had red hair. They looked like offspring of the same progenitor, but were not. No, they were far different from one another. The small one turned and suddenly looked elven. But her scent… It was neither human nor elf. The Gorax did not recognize it, but it was familiar all the same. And unsettling. Also intriguing.

“Brilliant,” she shouted, and began spinning in a tight circle, arms outstretched. She was laughing.
How peculiar.

“Look at all the clouds,” said the tall one with long hair the color of autumn.

“I think we’re
in
the sky,” said the slight human man with small features. He smelled powerful. Dangerous. But the Gorax did not fear him. One did not simply walk into the Fae Wyld by accident. At least not often. The Gorax laughed at that.

The humans, elf, and unknown offspring whirled to face the large lacquered desk that sat at the edge of the floating grass platform known as the Archway.

“
Wicked,
” said the offspring.

The Gorax cleared its throat and climbed atop the desk to give the creature a better view of its visitors. He spread two of its four arms and pressed its front feet together in greeting.

“Who are you to enter here?” it asked.

They all seemed to speak at once. It made the Gorax dizzy.

“What are you?”

“
Wicked.
”

“Can I touch you?”

“Look at all the arms and legs that thing has.”

“Sachihiro, if you touch anything, I swear I will push you off this thing.”

“Addy, stay close, hon, don’t get too near the edge.”

“
Wicked!
”

“I’m just taking a little grass to look at later, relax. It might be important.”

“This is it? Not much here.”

“ENOUGH!” the Gorax bellowed as its head swam and it began to lose track of the many threads of speech. “You are not Fae. Why have you come?”

The Tannyl elf struck the Sachihiro of thick arms and stepped forward. He laid an open palm against his chest and bowed until his body was parallel to the ground. Still looking at the ground, he said, “We have come to speak with your All-Mother. We seek passage through your Wyld.” He stood up after speaking.

“That is an old greeting, Alfurian,” the Gorax said. Its voice hinted at disgust, but it was impressed at seeing an old custom. “Only the ancient Druids of the Forest Realm use it still.”

“I meant no disrespect.”

The Gorax waved a dismissive hand and spit in an apology of its own custom. “The All-Mother will not see Outsyders, no matter how many of the twelve hundred and sixty-three Fae greetings you may display.”

“It is very important,” the elf replied. The Gorax could smell the anger in his words though his face concealed it. He could also smell something else, but the elf kept it well hidden, as if he knew the way Fae sensed emotions.

“No.”

“But Erlen said we could,” the burly man shouted. He looked around, his posture made of confusion and worry. “Hey, where is he anyway?”

“Erlen?” the Gorax asked. He smelled the response before the burly one could give it. “Dragontamer? Erlen the Dragontamer?”

“Yeah,” the Sachihiro human said defiantly. “You know, he tames dragons.” The man smirked. Obvious disrespect. Even its eyes told it that.