The Dwarven Wars Page 3

  That would have guaranteed his victory.

  But bringing Varlaam’s staff meant bringing Varlaam.

  And Ivan’s plans were much more likely to succeed without his brother peering over his shoulder.

  Ivan took another deep breath of the fresh sea air. Really, he should be able to control his own body better. But none of the herbal drinks provided by Erasyl the healer had done any good.

  Maybe they should have brought someone older. Erasyl had only just finished his apprenticeship. Though he had the title of Master Healer, he didn’t really have the experience to fill that role.

  The stench of rotting fish blew across the water. Ivan couldn’t help the bile that filled his mouth. He leaned over the side of the boat and spat it out, then hawked and spat again, trying to clear away the foul taste.

  He hadn’t eaten much in the days it had taken to cross this wasteland. How could he still have enough to vomit?

  He took another deep breath of air. It was cleaner. And warmer. And it had an unmistakable tang of dried grass mingled in with it.

  Ivan turned eagerly from the edge of the boat, away from the constantly churning waters.

  Before he could ask, though, his heart’s wish was granted.

  “Land!” shouted the lookout.

  Chapter 2

  “Dale’s missing,” Denise said into the phone as soon as Nora answered. She wrapped the arm not holding the phone across her chest, the gray cardigan she wore not nearly heavy enough to ward off the cold she felt. Maybe she’d have to change out of her jeans into heavier sweats as well.

  “What do you mean, Dale’s missing?” Nora asked, clearly pissed off.

  Denise nearly smiled. Of course her daughter would be more angry than worried about her twin brother. At least at first.

  Denise paced the empty living room, walking between the plain gray sofa and the two armchairs. The fireplace was cold, the TV above it just an empty gray screen. Really, even with Dale living here with her, the house still felt abandoned half the time. Denise had never realized before how much life Nora had brought to their home.

  Denise was just going to have to get used to her children living on their own.

  “It’s after seven o’clock and Dale hasn’t come home yet. Hasn’t called or texted, either,” Denise explained. “And when I call his cell, it just goes through to voice mail.”

  “Are you sure he’s not with that mysterious girlfriend of his?” Nora asked.

  Denise sighed. “Yes. I called her.”

  “So he does have a girlfriend!” Nora crowed.

  “Yes. And you’ll forget that I told you,” Denise told her daughter crossly. “Anyway. She told me that Dale had told her that he had an appointment this afternoon. He wouldn’t tell her any of the details, though. Very mysterious.” Denise paused, then walked out of the living room and down the hallway, going back to Dale’s room.

  The doorway to Nora’s room stood open, the light on. Denise had already looked there for her errant son. She nearly pulled the door closed as she passed. The room, like the rest of the house, seemed so empty without Nora there. Particularly since the floor in there was clean, everything picked up or packed away, nothing messy or out of order, not how Nora had always kept it.

  Dale’s door was open as well. Denise had tapped on the door sometime after dinner, hoping that maybe her son had lain down for a nap and had slept through his alarm.

  But the room was as empty as the house felt. Nobody lay on the neatly made bed pushed against the left wall, no note lay in the center of his old, beat-up desk. His school-books sat neatly piled, awaiting his arrival. Nothing looked out of order.

  The smell of machine oil that permeated Dale’s room had left a bitter taste at the back of Denise’s throat.

  That was when she’d called Leslie, Dale’s girlfriend. Then she’d made herself wait another hour before calling Nora, hoping that Dale would come home soon.

  This stress wasn’t good for Denise’s heart, she knew. She also knew Dale wouldn’t knowingly cause her grief. Both of the twins worried about her heart with its pacemaker, particularly given how fairy magic interfered with it.

  Something had to have happened to him.

  “Mom,” Nora said, then she stopped. Sighed. “There isn’t a whole lot I can do from here. I don’t have a magic ball or something that I can scry with. That isn’t how magic works.”

  “Do what with?” Denise asked, willing to be distracted from her worry if only for a few moments.

  “Scry. To see afar. Hold on,” Nora said.

  Denise smiled, hearing books being shifted. She could just see her daughter rummaging through her piles, looking for the right thing.

  “Look, Mom, I was right. Scrying isn’t a thing that I can do. That anyone can do. Magic doesn’t work that way, not in the real world. But…” Nora paused. Cleared her throat.

  Denise felt herself growing rigid. This was important to Nora, who normally just chatted away.

  “I don’t think he’s dead,” Nora finally added. “I can’t swear to that. But he’s my twin. I know we’re not identical twins. We’re still kind of connected. Through my magic. I think I’d know if he was dead.”

  Denise nodded, unsurprised by the tears that had sprung to her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice catching. She cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she repeated, more clearly. “That at least gives me hope.” She wished she could ask her daughter to come home, but that would place Nora in danger as well.

  “There really isn’t anything else I can do from here,” Nora said. “If he’s in trouble, you’ll have to contact the police. And maybe the fairies.”

  “Okay,” Denise said. “Though Cornelius is probably last name on my list of people to contact.” She shivered again, remembering how the ugly fairy had enspelled her. Worn at her will so that she would easily do his bidding.

  Never again.

  “The fairies can’t hurt you, Mom,” Nora reassured her. “They can’t get into the house. They can’t get at you.”

  “I know,” Denise said. “But I’d have to leave here to contact them, right? Go to that old house?” Dale had taken Denise to the old house overlooking the ocean, the portal between the human world and the great fairy kingdom below. It was a desolate place, the red paint on the wooden walls weathered and peeling, the blank windows staring at her like evil eyes, garbage piled up around the foundation and mean-looking graffiti covering the door.

  She never would have approached that place voluntarily. It screamed “DANGER!” to her. Dale had assured her that was just fairy magic that made the place seem worse than it was, in order to keep people away from it.

  “Yes, you’d have to go to the old house,” Nora replied slowly. “Don’t go at night, though. Wait until morning.”

  Denise couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped. It rang hollowly in Dale’s room. “I’m just supposed to sit here and wait in the meantime?”

  “Mom—I don’t know what else to tell you. He isn’t dead. He’s generally not thoughtless, even though he’s stupid sometimes, so I agree with you that something’s probably happened to him. But moonlight makes fairies stronger. You can’t go seek them until after the sun rises. Promise me, Mom, that you’ll wait.”

  Denise found herself nodding despite herself. She knew that Nora wouldn’t intentionally use magic to compel Denise to do something against her will. She didn’t think that Nora was strong enough to do that.

  Yet.

  Nora had always been willful, as well as a natural leader. Bending others to her will magically was a power that came naturally to her.

  “All right. I’ll wait until morning,” Denise said. “The police won’t believe that he’s missing until he’s been gone for twenty-four hours, anyway.”

  “When was the last time you saw him? This morning, right?” Nora asked.

  “Yes,” Denise said. “So I’ll wait until after breakfast before I call the police as well.” She sighed and shook her hea
d. It was going to be a long, long night. She turned out the light in Dale’s room and closed the door, then did the same for Nora’s room, making her way back to the living room.

  “Mom?” Nora asked with a very small voice. “Have you tried Dad yet?”

  Denise was surprised at how fast her rage burned out her fear. “I haven’t,” she said. “But that’s an excellent idea.” Much better to deal with her ex than the fairies. He, at least, was human. And she’d enjoy stringing him up by his balls if he even touched her son.

  “Okay, Mom,” Nora said. “I’ll let you go. But call me if there’s news. Or call me even if there isn’t news. If you just need to talk or something.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” Denise said. She’d raised good kids. Kids who were truly coming into their own now. “You stay safe,” Denise ordered. “Take care of yourself. Be careful.”

  “Always, Mom,” Nora said earnestly. “My dorm room is as well protected as the house is. Maybe even better.”

  “Well, when you come visit you’ll have to fortify my enchantments,” Denise said. The words came out automatically, though they didn’t sit well with her.

  It was never going to be easy to admit that she had a daughter who was magical, who regularly did impossible things.

  “I’ll do that,” Nora said wistfully.

  Neither of them made any firm plans, though.

  Nora wouldn’t be able to come back until after Brett, the monster, was dead. She was too vulnerable in his territory. While Denise wanted to leave Port City as soon as they’d learned about Brett, Dale had insisted on staying, despite the risks.

  She shouldn’t have let him talk her out of leaving. Who knew what danger had befallen him?

  “I’ll call as soon as I have news,” Denise promised. “Now, you get back to your homework.”

  “Yes, Mom,” Nora said.

  Denise smiled. She could actually hear her daughter rolling her eyes at her.

  “Love you. Bye,” Denise said.

  “Love-you-bye,” Nora replied.

  The phone went dead.

  Denise looked around the living room. She couldn’t see the magical protection, though she knew it was there: knots hanging in the corners of the room, the macramé owl on the wall, strings on the window frames.

  Even with the curtains drawn and no one able to look in, Denise still felt vulnerable there. So she marched back to her room, her own sanctuary of blues and greens. It was safer in the back of the house—Old Eli had planted row upon row of rowan trees to help protect the house from the fairies.

  But what it if wasn’t the fairies who had Dale?

  Grimly, Denise opened her contacts list and scrolled through until she found Chris—her ex’s—number.

  Boy, was she going to give him a piece of her mind.

  Sebastian woke up feeling grumpy. Well, more grumpy than usual. He didn’t like mornings, despite being the head priest of the sun god of the fairies. And it wasn’t as if there were real sunbeams to go dancing in, or sparkling dew to sip from cup-shaped leaves. Artificial fairy lights filled the roof of the huge underground cavern that held the Greater Oregon Fairy kingdom, lights that mimicked the sun and the moon.

  While the lights were nice, they weren’t enough.

  Sebastian felt even grumpier when he realized that he needed to hurry through his morning ablutions and prayers. He was supposed to meet Cornelius and the others—damn it!—the bells marking the full hour rang, telling him he was about to be late.

  Though Sebastian was of the warrior caste, he had more tricks up his sleeve than most. He ran his palms down the front of the bright, sun-yellow robes he found crumpled by the side of his bed. Instantly, they were fresh and new.

  He didn’t bother adding sweet daisy scents to his clothing—just the color alone should be enough of an eyesore to Cornelius and the others. He still added a slight glimmer to the material, so it would sparkle whenever light struck it.

  Feeling better, Sebastian trilled a brief incantation in the old language, not this new-fangled English. Yellow streamers formed out of the light, then flew through the air and attached themselves to his wings. He fanned his wings in and out, settling the bright strips further.

  Stupid royals probably thought he had servants to do these tasks for him.

  By the first Queen, how his people had fallen.

  He knew that Cornelius and the others didn’t want to go back to the old ways. Sebastian certainly understood—who wanted to live barefoot and starving in the woods, always cold and forever wary of predators?

  However, safety brought a certain dullness. The fairies in the Greater Oregon Fairy kingdom had nothing to live for. No dreams that drove them.

  Sebastian shook his head as he took to the air, flying rapidly to the north, toward the palace. The fields beyond the temple looked healthy enough, the orchards full of their fall fruit and nuts, the moon berries already harvested and the wheat growing well.

  But Sebastian knew if he flew higher he’d see how the tide had receded. Fields used to cover the entire surface from east of the temple to the very edge of the carved-out kingdom. Now, the fields filled less than half the land they used to.

  Not enough workers to tend them. No need for so much food either, as deaths had been exceeding births for many decades now.

  Sebastian didn’t have time that morning to fly over the graveyard to the west. He already knew what he’d see there—too many gray stones clustered together. Not enough room for even flowers to grow between them. The cemetery had already spread past its original boundaries, taking up the fields on either side.

  Soon, very soon, there would be no place left to bury their dead.

  They had to leave this underground cavern before it turned into a grave that swallowed all of them. Abandon the kingdom and travel again—maybe north would be a better option. Sebastian certainly planned on encouraging the younger fairies to go.

  His heart ached at the losses they’d already faced, the fairies who’d died, either caught off-guard by Kostya’s traps or killed outright by the Old One.

  One more great loss, the loss of their home, would be too much for some to bear. They’d survive the trip to their new place, but they’d die in there soon after, brokenhearted.

  He’d have to make sure that the new graveyard would be big enough to hold all their souls.

  Cornelius rose with the dawn. He dressed in silver that morning: a silver and white vest with his jeweler’s tools hanging off a silver chain around his waist, black pants with a silver stripe down the side, and a white shirt with silver buttons, collar, and cuffs.

  The night before, he’d directed his servants to prepare a feast for his guests. That morning, they’d set up a large table just off his balcony and piled it high with fresh popovers, ground cherries, roasted nuts and mushrooms, cream, and golden moonbeam wine.

  When Cornelius was certain everything was perfect, he dismissed the servants, preferring this to be a more casual (and private) affair. His guests could serve themselves, then join him on his balcony overlooking the kingdom.

  Edeline showed up first, tentatively knocking on his door. She wore a morning frock made from a soft, beige silk, the material light enough to float, as if it had spiderwebs woven into it.

  She looked lovely, but like a child playing in grownup clothes.

  “Good morning,” Cornelius said, opening the door wide for her.

  “Am I the first one?” Edeline asked timidly, looking around the room. Her wings fluttered, agitated.

  “You are,” Cornelius said. “Can I get you something to drink?” he added when it became apparent that his guest was too awestruck to say anything more.

  “Some water?” Edeline said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Beautiful sparkling dew,” Cornelius said, fetching her a glass.

  Before the silence could get too awkward, Thirza knocked on the door.

  Cornelius had been right in his assessment in the throne room the morning before: there was an
alliance between Thirza and Edeline.

  How had they met?

  Thirza gave him a large, toothy grin as she stepped into his personal quarters. At least she wore more than war paint that morning. However, instead of a proper blouse, she wore a black vest in addition to her traditional short leather skirt. Her brown hair stood on end, as usual.

  Had she cut it short and started wearing it like a mane in order to appear larger? More threatening? Cornelius wasn’t sure. But he did approve of the effect.

  “Will more be joining us?” Cornelius asked the two women as he poured himself some wine.

  They looked at each other. “Possibly,” Edeline said. It appeared she still spoke for the group.

  Before Cornelius could ask, the door to his room opened. He turned to give the newcomer a tongue-lashing—how dare they just walk in?

  He changed his mind when he saw it was just Sebastian. Though the priest was younger than Cornelius, he often acted worse than an ancient, forgetful crone. Any scolding Cornelius would try to give would run right off his back, like moonbeams poured from a sacred vessel.

  “Glad I’m not too late,” Sebastian said. He gave a broad wink to Cornelius. “Though I’m sure you would have understood. Important duties first. Prayer and absolution.”

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Cornelius asked. He tried to keep the long-suffering tone out of his voice. Mostly.

  “Wouldn’t say no to some of your most excellent wine,” Sebastian said. “Thank you, lad.”

  “Any more expected?” Cornelius said, turning back to the two women.

  They both shook their heads.

  “Then help yourself to my modest repast,” Cornelius said, gesturing at the table. “Then come join me out on the balcony. Let us talk of grand travels and new possibilities.”

  After his guests had served themselves and joined him, Cornelius started. “What route do you think you’ll take up to north, to Washington State?”

  Thirza replied. “We’ll follow along the coastline, cutting in where the highways do.” She took a big bite from a perfectly roasted mushroom, her eyes closing for a moment in bliss. “Just north of the territory of the Old One stands a great forest. We’ll start looking for homes there.”