Destroyed by Onyx (A Dance with Destiny Book 4) (5 page)

“Apologies, Lass,” he said, chuckling. “But that was all I had to give you. I’ve washed your pretty dress, though. It’s drying as we speak.” He motioned with his head to the corner where it now hung, dripping onto the cold floor, puddling there. “But you’ll need something to sleep in, too. Size doesn’t matter when you’re dreaming. Now, does it?”

*****

Jenevier yawned and stretched her arms. The sunlight through the window was slowly fading, casting a shadow over her comfy reading spot. She’d been flipping through a dusty old book, one she’d painstakingly retrieved from a high shelf in the adjoining room.

Who puts bookshelves all the way up to the ceiling?
She smiled.
I guess, people tall enough to reach them, like Brod
, she thought as she climbed back up her makeshift steps, taking care not to knock over the various boxes and stools she’d stacked together.
I wonder if the people here are all as big as he is. If so, I’ll feel as if I live amongst giants.
Her smile widened.
That wouldn’t be so bad, now. Would it? Actually, that’s rather comforting to me, rather normal feeling—living amongst giants.

Gently slipping the ancient book back into its neglected resting place, she heard the unmistakable sound of new wood being tossed into the stove. Bending over, she peeked around the doorframe. Brodder’s large back was to her, his gentle hums filling the room.

Lithely jumping down from her precariously assembled ladder, Jenevier joined him in the kitchen. Skipping up beside him, she bumped his leg with her hip.

“Aye, Lass. You’ve been quiet as a baby rabbit, you have,” he said with a smile and a sideways glance. “Did you find something interesting in my old library? Something besides cobwebs and brittle old pages?”

She crinkled up her nose by way of answer and placed her tiny hands over his, giving them a little squeeze.

Brodder chuckled. “You really do look like a wee rabbit when you do your nose like that, Lass.” Then he sighed heavily. “What am I gonna do with such a delicate little creature? Stick you in my pocket and keep you hidden from the world?”

Jenevier only bumped him again and squeezed his giant hands even harder. He released the iron handles of the old cooking pots and laughed. Holding his hands up in surrender, Brodder stepped back from the heated oven and let her have it.

Lazily watching as the quiet, colorless woman easily kept two pots and a frying pan going full force, he smiled contently and began softly singing her favorite lullaby. The newly braided giant of a man filled his elegantly carved pipe and tapped it atop the table as he inhaled deeply, enjoying all the delicious aromas now filling his once lonely home.

*****

“Gealach.” Brodder let out a big sigh as he rubbed his belly. “I believe those were the best lamb chops I’ve ever eaten. How’d you learn to cook like that, Lass, living up there on the moon?”

Jenevier only shrugged her shoulders as she took another bite. She honestly didn’t know. She’d only done what felt natural to her at the time, minus thought.

“Enough with this water, Lass,” he said, finishing off his glass. “Do you drink spirits, my wee darling? Cause it’s time to break out the good stuff.”

The dark red wine was surprisingly sweet. It coated her throat and warmed her belly.

“How can you stomach that stuff, wee rabbit?” He chuckled. “It tastes like pure sugar to me. Or, perhaps you favor sweet things. Most girls do, I suppose,” he mumbled. “In truth, you sort of remind me of spun sugar, Lass. The kind they make around the holidays or during the festival season.” He smiled and stared off into the distance, warmth filling his deep chestnut eyes.

“There’s a wee shop in the village just outside the palace walls. A fine young woman, good and stout built, goes by the name of Mariel. She makes
things
out of spun sugar, she does. Lovely little trinket things… look like glass dolls or toys, mayhap.” He winked at her. “I’ll have to take you there someday, Gealach. When the time comes and it’s safe, there are many fascinating things in Val Hal I want to share with you.” He reached over and pinched her toe. “I want to see those snowflakes light up with wonder.” He winked again and patted the top of her foot.

Brodder had first given her a bit of his whiskey. Jenevier had sniffed the glass and turned up her nose, shaking her head. At his ceaseless prodding, she’d managed a small swallow. Once his laughter had died away and her coughing had subsided, he brought her the wine.

They sat by the crackling fire as he told her tales, some sad and some glorious, of the ancient Kings who had ruled this land in days gone by. His stories were colorful, rich with characters she would have loved to known in person. He spun a tale as mesmerizing as his songs were lulling. Her mind happily danced through Val Hal’s vivid fields of antiquity. And that strange yet comforting warmth within her continued to swell.

When they finally crawled into bed, Brodder wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her against his chest, holding her like a child’s favorite toy.

“Nos da, wee moon,” he whispered.

Spooning there with this gentle giant of a man, his warm healing love enveloped her heart.

He treasures me
, she thought.
I love him. I’ll protect this noble man with my very life… always.

And there on Val Hal, minus her past, filled only with the present, Jenevier slept the soothing, dreamless sleep of a wee babe.

Chapter 5

Vanahirdem

(van-ah-HEAR-dem)

“And, you’re certain Uriel told you to stab her through the heart with it?” Vareilious had one eyebrow cocked up as he waited for Daichi’s answer.

“Yes. That’s exactly what he said to do.”

“And… stabbing her through the heart with a seraph blade seems like a
normal
thing to you, does it?”

Daichi’s growl was mixed with his words. “Nothing about this seems
normal
to me, Vareilious.”

Munenori stepped between them. “The Guardian is just in his concern,” he calmly said, as he met Vareilious’s gaze. “Generally, yes. A seraph blade such as Uriel’s would end any life, mortal or immortal. Yet for all intents and purposes, Naga is already dead. Her shell roams about empty. Her soul rests within the dagger.” He looked hard at Daichi then, narrowing his eyes. “This will be bloody work, boy. Not for the faint of heart. But the only way to restore her is to do as Uriel has instructed. Best ready yourself for the job, Daichi. It won’t be an easy one.”

The sapphire Angel gave one quick nod of his head but spoke not a word.

“So… Mama’s out there… all alone… minus her memories.” Tenshi stared into the clouds, his mind filling with horrible visions. “I bet she’s so scared,” he whispered. “She’s just a little bitty thing, so small, no idea what’s happened to her or who she even is, probably.” He turned to face his brother. “What if some evil man, someone like Musashi, finds Mama? What if she’s screaming for help right now? What do you think he’ll do? Bind her? Hurt her? Scar her more than she already is? What if some dark someone already has her? What if she’s having to relive that soul-rending, atrocious nightmare all over again?”

The terror in his brother’s angelic blue eyes rocked Daichi’s crumbling heart.

“Musashi?” Vittorio growled. “Aye now, is he the bloody sword wielder what touched my Angel?”

“She is not
your
Angel,” Daichi snarled.

“Yes.” Tenshi sniffed. “He’s the one. Musashi was always so kind, so loving toward us, especially Mama. He acted like he loved her more than anything else in the whole world. He never raised his voice to her
or
to us. When I close my eyes, I can see his charming smile. Holding me in his arms, promising to love me always, telling me how we were his twin Princes, fated to rule the ninth layer one day. I’ve tried hard to recall, yet I cannot remember even seeing him angry before that day. His eyes held nothing but devotion. But after that damn she-Guardian came back to Jinn, the one you call Valencia, and took Mikage away with her…” His words trailed off and he wiped his eyes. “Mama’s dreams after that… How can a man even think of doing such horrible things? I will never be able to forget it. Never be able to erase the pain and terror she felt. Not in this lifetime or the next.” He grabbed his brother’s arm. “What if someone’s doing that to Mama right now? What if someone is—”

Daichi growled at Tenshi, jerking his arm free, halting the terrified Angel’s words in his mouth.

“That’s not your mother out there, little Tenshi,” Munenori said softly. “It’s only her body. Her mind and her heart are sheathed there at her Blessing’s waist. She won’t have to suffer through anything that might be happening to her right now.”

“But… What about when we find her? What about then?” he pleaded. “What will happen to her when Daichi returns her soul to her body? Tell me, Munenori. Will she remember what her body went through? Will she then have to deal with whatever pain and horror her shell might be subjected to as we speak? Will she have to relive beatings, torture? What about rape? Will she be forced to live with as wretched a memory as that… once she’s restored?”

“Ugh, why can’t you just shut your damn mouth, Tenshi?” Daichi roared. “Your infantile wails are driving me mad.”

The mossy lavender Angel touched Tenshi’s trembling shoulder. “I know not the answers you seek, my son. But I do know this. No matter what happens to her out there, no matter what she is having to live through at this very moment… Daichi can heal her.” Munenori smiled softly. “That’s the very reason he was made.”

“Now, let’s use our heads and think this thing through, Brothers.” Vareilious held up all his fingers. “There are ten layers in this universe and only half as many of us.”

“You can mark off Ashgard,” Daichi said dryly. “She’s not there.”

“We can go ahead and count Byzantha out as well.” Vareilious cleared his throat, blushing slightly. “If our Angel landed there, she’s in no danger. They would never harm her. This I vow.”

“The same goes for layer nine,” Munenori added. “If that tiny creature fell upon Jinn, her people will take care of her. No matter who stumbles upon her, they will deliver her safely to the palace. She could be in no more capable hands than Master Yui’s.”

“Aye then, we’ll save layer two an’ nine for last,” Vittorio said. “So who’s headed where?”

“I’ll go back to Spadroon,” Vareilious said. “I’ve been over every inch of that layer. I know each and every hole… and who’s hiding inside them.”

“Aye, Brother, then I will go tae Lyra,” Vittorio added. “It wulnae take me long tae scour the first layer, an’ then I’ll join ye on the third.”

“So then, Lyra, Byzantha, Spadroon, and Ashgard. That covers us through the first four layers,” Daichi said, turning to face his brother. “I will go to Val Hal; you take Dimthe Leard.” He glanced at the Guardian Angel of Jinn. “Munenori can search out the seventh layer realm of Praetoria.”

“Aye, be extremely careful, wee Tenshi,” Vittorio warned. “Great evil still roams the sixth layer.”

“He’s right,” Daichi growled. “Tenshi, you should go to Val Hal.
I
will see to Dimthe Leard.”

“Perhaps I should be the one to traverse the sixth layer realm of Dimthe Leard. Tenshi should go to the seventh.” Munenori turned to him as he spoke. “Be especially careful on Praetoria, little one. Search it thoroughly. There are many dark places in which to hide a tiny little thing like our Naga.”

“I’ll take my legion and comb the eighth layer.” All eyes turned to Vinika at her approach. “Leave Earth to us, Angels. There will be no stone left unturned. I swear it.”

“Gratitude, Sister.” Tenshi bowed to her.

“Tenshi?”

He turned toward Vareen as she timidly addressed him.

“May I accompany you to the seventh layer?”

“And why is that, revered mother?” he asked. “Do you not think me as strong and capable as are my brothers? Do you hold to their opinion of me?” He ignored the shuffling steps and uncomfortable grunts of his present brethren. “Do you count me only as a scared child?”

“Nothing of the sort.” Vareen placed a loving hand upon his arm. “I’m the one who lacks strength here.” Tears filled her lovely eyes. “I will not live through losing another son,” she whispered.

“But what if you receive a vision?” he asked. “Who’ll be left in Vanahirdem to send out the summons?”

“I made a vow to you,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I swore you would be the first to know. How much better could it be than to be standing by your side?”

“Well, that settles it then.” Vareilious clapped his enormous hands together. “Let us now agree. When we’ve thoroughly seen to our appointed layer, we’ll each make our way on to the next and help out there as well.”

Chapter 6

Gráda

(GRAH-dah)

When the first rays of dawn crept through the window, Brodder Scot yawned and stretched his tired back. A warm smile crossed his thin lips as he recalled the past few days with his new ward. He lazily reached for the ghostly white lady he’d protectively held through another night. She was gone.

When his frantic searching and yelling yielded no results, Brodder drew his sword and began hacking away on the wooden practice dummy dangling from a post a few feet from the house.

Jenevier heard the dull, echoing sounds of metal jarring off dried wood long before she made it back from her predawn excursion.

Sounds like Brod’s up now.

She was practically skipping when she rounded the front of the house, stopping short when she found herself face to face with the tip of a massive two-handed sword. She heard his loud exhale and watched as the blade slowly fell, clattering to the ground.

Relief swept over him in a wave. His strong arms were about her, cutting off her breath, before she even registered what was happening.

“Oh, my wee lamb. Thank the gods you’re safe. I was so worried about you.” He kissed the top of her head. “I called out for you over and over. I feared someone had stolen you away in the night.” He set her back upon her feet, but held fast to her shoulders as his relief turned to anger. “Never do that again, young lass. Do you hear me? Never leave this yard without me by your side. You have no idea who’s out there just waiting to gobble you up. I don’t even want to think about all the vile things they would do to you.” His eyes narrowed when he noticed the basket of herbs and petals hanging from her bent arm. “If you ever leave without telling me again, I’ll put you over my knee and tan your hide, well and good.” He gave her shoulders a little shake for emphasis. “Do you understand me, Lass?”

She could only stare, open mouthed, nodding to the giant man yelling at her like she was a little school girl.

He tightened his grip briefly and then released her. Brodder was shaking his head, still mumbling as he picked up his fallen sword and returned to viciously pummeling the beaten old practice dummy.

Jenevier watched him for a long moment. Watched the way the large muscles of his back rippled and flexed with each commanding thrust. It was easy to glean by his stance and strength, Brodder Scot was an accomplished warrior. His slashes were powerful and true. Death was the sole intent of his blade.

This man has known war… years of war
, she thought
. His opponents must be terrified. I know I would be. Such a mountain of a man… determinedly approaching… blood in his eyes… blade drawn.
A small tremor swept over her. She visibly shuddered.
Yes, completely terrifying, even to me. How would you even brace yourself for a blow such as his? This gentle man has spilled much blood in his lifetime, rivers of it. How can his heart feel so warm, his songs be so tender, and his might rival that of a titan?

Without thinking, she withdrew a blade from the nearby rack, using the flat of it to land a quick blow across his unsuspecting backside. She was surprised when the sword bounced off his bottom, jarring her wrists. It was a much firmer target than she had anticipated.

Brodder froze—shoulders stiff and rigid. He slowly turned to face her. The look he now wore was unreadable.

The borrowed blade hung limp from her hand, a wicked smirk painted firmly across her pale lips. She let the dull tip trail lazily upon the gravely ground, dragging it behind her as she began to slowly circle the gawking man.

“What’s this game you now play at, Lass?” He narrowed his eyes. “Did your elders not teach you never to play with fire? Continue to dance upon this painful path, Gealach, and you’ll get burned. I told you I’d show you how to defend yourself. I didn’t mean with a man’s weapon, wee lamb. You might get hurt. You know nothing about—”

She reached out with her borrowed sword and the jarring sound of metal smacking metal rang abruptly around them, cutting short his words as she popped the blade hanging loose in Brodder’s grasp, silencing his warning. His face flushed crimson when the polished steel nearly fell from his large hand. She could almost smell his rising anger, and it only proved to enhance her evil grin.

Jenevier raised her stolen weapon, grasping it with both hands, assuming a perfect fighting stance.

His eyes widened. “What do you think you’re doing, Lass?”

She used her right forefinger to beckon the giant closer, taunting him. She smiled coolly.

The mocking gesture proved to infuriate the massive warrior. “Very well, my wee darling. You deserve this tanning for making me fret over you. You asked for it, Lass, so I won’t be heeding any tears.”

Brodder raised his sword and charged at her. Jenevier blocked the blow, pushing off him to the side.

The older man laughed when he saw her standing there, shaking her head dizzily, trying to halt the echoing din bouncing around inside her skull.

“Ha! Rang your bell, did I?” He laughed. “Come get some more, wee rabbit.”

When his next powerful swing came toward her, she easily flipped out of his reach. But her landing was rusty, clumsy. Jenevier stumbled into the nearby weapons rack before she could catch herself.

His laughter was boisterous. His whole body seemed to shake with the action. “Do you wish me to hear your apologies now, wee moon? Or shall you take your spanking like a good lass?”

He popped her bottom with his blade, punctuating his taunt and returning the painful little favor she’d previously bestowed upon him. The stinging blow caused the rumbling growl building in her throat to come out as a hiss.

She tossed the large sword aside and drew out two, much smaller blades.

Ah, this feels more natural somehow. Not precise, but much better.

She didn’t even question her reasoning as she turned to face him, newly armed.

Brodder laughed again. “And now the maid thinks she can dual wield. Will the jest never end?”

She bounced on the balls of her feet from one side to the other as she flexed her fingers, adjusting her grasp upon the hilts. She ran toward him. He only smiled. One giant step to her left, one to the right, and she sprang into the air. Flipping once, she cleared his massive height and landed on his back. Her knees squeezing his sides like a vise, those dull blades crossed together in front of him pressing firmly against his exposed throat. She effectively halted his jeers. He drew not a single breath until she jumped down, landing lightly behind him, smiling innocently.

Jenevier tried to read the strange look on his face. She hadn’t seen this one before.

Is that fear? Or perhaps… awe?

“What’s this, now?” Brodder said, taking note of the trained stance she still held and the tiny sparkle now flashing in her black eyes.

Looking again at the frail little arms he had worried about before, he noticed the long sinewy muscles now dancing just beneath her snow white skin.

“Is there a secret you wish to share with me, Gealach?” He flashed her a perceptive smile. “Hmm? Is there a bit more to my wee rabbit than meets the eye?”

She relaxed then and stood up straight, pondering his words, searching vainly within her emptied mind. Finally, she only shrugged her shoulders and stared back at his expectant face.

“Very well, tiny moon goddess,” he said with a nod. “Let’s find out the truth of it together. Shall we?”

Jenevier reflexively raised her blades just in time to deflect his crushing blow. Brodder Scot didn’t go easy on her. She couldn’t relax her guard for even a moment. He never managed to touch her again with his bare blade, but he held his own against the tiny woman, as she did him.

Sweat was dripping painfully into her eyes when she first noticed the vibration and then heard the sound of approaching hoof beats. She held up her hand, palm facing out toward her giant friend, and cocked her head to the side. Soon, he heard the approaching riders as well.

When Brodder saw the panic growing in her dark eyes, he gently took her tiny hand and tucked her safely behind him.

He spoke softly over his shoulder as the horsemen came into view. “You set a smile upon your lovely face as you challenge a giant, yet you tremble before the likes of these. Ha!” He snorted out a condescending laugh.

She pinched his side, hard.

Brodder gasped. “Dammit, why you wee… I swear. I’ll end up having to tan your backside before the moon rises this night,” he grumbled under his breath.

Jenevier knew he didn’t mean it. She gave him a quick apologetic kiss, right on the spot she’d only just bruised. He snorted again and shook his head. She didn’t see the little smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

When the five horsemen stopped in front of them, she balled the back of his shirt up in her fists, burying her button nose against his spine. His smile only widened.

“Welcome, Brothers,” he said. “I had expected your arrival at dawn.”

“Apologies, Sire. We were delayed upon the road by some of the witch’s troops. We made certain those buggers wouldn’t be counted among her growing army.”

The speaking man dismounted, fist over his heart, bowing low to the giant she was hiding behind. Jenevier peeked from under Brodder’s arm and studied the five men—all dismounted, all bowing, and all armed.

When they rose, she quickly assessed each visitor’s eyes, inhaling sharply when she looked upon the fourth man. Deceit was playing about in this warrior’s mind. It was painted across his brow as if he were an open book, free for the whole world to read.

Brodder felt when the tiny woman tensed up behind him. He tried to give her sudden reaction his full attention. It was a hard thing to do, especially since one of his generals was loudly spouting off his report. He wasn’t certain what it was about this strange little creature hiding behind him, but his gut told him not to take anything she did lightly. She was a curious thing, to be sure. For now, and he didn’t know exactly why, but he fully trusted the mysterious milky maiden.

When General Gráda began to speak, Brodder felt the vibrations of her internal growls against his back. He heard her warning hiss only a second before she stepped out before them, revealing herself.

All five men stared open mouthed at the colorless little woman with the single black curl hanging down in her face.

The man farthest to her right inhaled deeply, his breath hitching in his throat. But her eyes, those black snowflake eyes, were fixed upon the fourth warrior.

Gráda gasped. “Liadan.”

It sounded a lot like he said LEE-a-den, yet Jenevier knew without knowing, the man had called her
gray lady
the same way she knew Brodder always called her
little moon
, even though the words sounded more like wee GAHL-luch.

She didn’t speak their language, she knew not their tongue. Yet somehow her mind showed her plainly their intent. One thing she did know and for certain, this Gráda held evil in his heart concerning her dear Brodder. And
that
was one thing she would never stand for. No man would ever bring harm to her gentle giant, he was her whole world.

Jenevier felt her instinctive defensive impulses kick in, ferociously so.

Brodder didn’t speak nor did he move. Yet she could feel his curious eyes upon her.

Seems my giant friend is intent on letting me do as I wish.
She was grateful for the trust.

When she drew nearer to the gaping man, his large hand went to his hilt, his fingers drumming nervously upon it.

She sniffed the air between them, easily gleaning his true intentions by scent alone. A strange desire to lick this man came over her, an all-consuming feeling. Her mouth watered at the thought.

“Sire, I wasn’t aware you had such an interesting guest.” Gráda didn’t take his eyes from hers as he spoke. “Did we come at a bad time, Your Grace?”

His smirk was only half-hearted. She knew he trembled. Even if the others couldn’t see it, she plainly could. When Jenevier was finally close enough to touch the man, Gráda quickly removed his hand from his hilt and bowed low to her, a graceful sweeping gesture.

“Milady,” he said softly. “Forgive me and my brothers for our lack of respect concerning you. We were not aware of your presence until after we’d reported many atrocious and bloody things within your hearing. Please, accept my sincerest apologies.”

Jenevier couldn’t help herself. She reached out to touch the fascinating strawberry blond locks falling freely down and around his bent shoulders. She had almost touched the flowing mane when Gráda raised his head, taking her reaching hand in his.

“Your beauty and enchantment have stolen my heart,” he said. “A rarer thing I have never seen.” He graciously kissed the back of her tattooed hand.

She took another step, now sniffing the marked flesh his lips had just warmed. Her intent gaze remained fixed upon him.

Gráda’s eyes went impossibly wide when she casually licked the back of her hand where he’d nervously placed that kiss.

Jenevier now stood toe to toe with the man. She saw his pulse quicken within his veins when she placed her snowy hands lightly upon his broad chest.