The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) (23 page)

BOOK: The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4)
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She stared at him in disbelief.

“Marla,” he said, “I can change things now… things that couldn’t be changed before… maybe what I did… maybe what I am now… maybe it wasn’t just about setting Lampwicke free. Maybe it was about you and me. Maybe all this happened so that I could be the one… I could be the
one
, Marla that saves you from what they’re trying to do to you!”

“What they’re trying to do to me?” she scoffed, “Garrett, I think you’re overreacting!” She pulled free of his grip and stepped away.

“Marla, just listen,” Garrett said, “I know… I know you want to learn all you can about your people, but Marla… I don’t trust that woman… I just don’t want to… lose you.”

Marla said nothing, staring down at her feet for a long while.

“Marla, I’m sorry,” Garrett said, “I just…”

“They would never let me go, Garrett,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “But why?”

“Because of my father,” she said, lifting her eyes to his.

“What?” Garrett said.

Marla glanced up and down the lane to make sure they were alone. “Do you remember that box that you brought to my mother the night of the play?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“It contained my father’s journal, Garrett,” she whispered, “My mother gave it to me to read… to learn about who he really was.”

Garrett nodded.

“Garrett, my father wasn’t born a vampire,” she said.

“So he drank dragon blood to become one then, right?” Garrett asked.

“No!” she whispered, “He didn’t drink blood at all! He drank the tears of the Dragon Queen herself!”

“What?”

Marla sighed, stepping into the shadow of the wall where even the dim light of day could not reach. She pulled back her hood and brushed the hair from her eyes as Garrett followed her into the gloom.

“My father was a dragon slayer, Garrett,” she said, “He killed hundreds of dragons and vampires before they captured him. The vampires were finally able to kill most of the slayers, but my father and the other leaders of the knights were brought to Thrinaar to stand trial for their crimes.”

“Trial?” Garrett said.

“The elders wanted to… make an example of my father,” she sighed, “They forced him to drink the tears of the Dragon Queen, caught in a sacred chalice at the moment of her despair by one of her most faithful children.”

“Her tears?” he asked, “You mean she filled up a whole cup with ‘em?”

Marla smiled. “A rather large cup,” she said.

“How big was she?” he asked.

“She was the largest dragon that ever lived, Garrett. She was the mother of them all, and her sorrow was greater than all of the others’ sorrow combined.”

“And they made your dad… drink it?”

Marla nodded. “Him and the other leaders of the dragon slayers. The elders wanted them to experience the sorrow they had inflicted upon the world. The slayers would know the anguish of a mother’s love for the children they had murdered. Most of the slayers that were forced to drink went mad. Some of them even died. My father though… he was
changed
by it.”

“Sort of like what happened to me?” Garrett said.

She smiled at him and nodded.

“And that’s why they won’t let you go,” Garrett whispered, coming to a sick realization at last.

“Part of that what made him special is inside me now,” she said, “and the others want to help me discover what it means to carry that burden.”

“Burden?” he scoffed, “Marla, it doesn’t have to be a burden. Why can’t you see it as a gift… something special about you? It doesn’t make you something else. It’s just part of who you are. You’re still Marla!”

“Garrett…”

“No! Can’t you see Marla?” he said, “You and me, we’re the same! We both have something inside us that we don’t understand, but we have each other, and we can figure it out together!”

“I know it’s hard for you to understand…” she began.

“Marla, I know you think you have to…” he interrupted, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“Garrett!” she said, raising her voice to silence him, “Just listen to me for a minute!”

Garrett sighed, letting his hands drop to his sides.

She gave him an exasperated smile as she stepped close, laying her arms across his shoulders and clasping her hands behind his neck. “I know it’s hard to understand right now,” she said, “but I
need
to do this… I
want
to do this.”

He sighed again in frustration.

“I promise you, Garrett,” she said, “I
promise
that this won’t change things between us. There’s nothing they can say that will change how I feel about you. You have to trust me, Garrett! I
am
capable of thinking for myself… no matter what authority they might hold over me.”

“But what if they want you to go back to Thrinaar?” He asked.

“Then I will go to Thrinaar, Garrett,” she said, “It’s just another city. People go to visit places. It doesn’t mean they have to stay there. You could even go there, if you wanted.”

“Yeah, if I got tired of being alive, maybe,” he scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, her eyes hardening.

Garrett sighed and shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, “I’m sorry… I just don’t want to lose you, Marla.”

She stepped back, stroking his cheek with her fingertips as she pulled away. “You won’t,” she said.

Garrett closed his eyes and nodded.

“I have to get back,” she sighed, “I just wanted to walk with you a little.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“Are you sure you have enough essence for your class?” she asked, her eyes going to his shoulder bag that sagged with the weight of five full canisters.

“I don’t think I could carry anymore,” he laughed.

“Well… good luck with your new students,” she said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet them.”

“Thanks for the essence,” he said.

Marla leaned close and kissed him. Her lips felt warm and soft against his. She did not look at him as she pulled away, her hand lingering for a moment on his shoulder.

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

“Yeah.”

She looked up at him with a faint smile on her lips and then turned to go, her hand slipping free of his arm and lifting slightly in parting.

“Marla?” he said.

“Yes, Garrett?” she answered, looking back over her shoulder.

“I meant it, you know,” he said, “about the house.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Garrett.”

She took seven slow, measured steps away from him and then disappeared in a gray blur, hurrying back to her neglected studies.

Garrett stared at the place she had been and shifted the weight of his satchel to the other shoulder. His hand lingered there where Marla’s hand had rested a moment before. He smiled grimly.

If the vampires thought they were going to take her from him without a fight, they would soon learn the folly of their mistake.

*******

“Isn’t this where all the poop goes?” Mujah asked as Garrett led him and Crane across a rusty walkway that spanned a channel of foul-smelling water in the tunnels beneath the city.

Garrett shrugged. “Yeah, but most of that goes out the spillway. Only a few of these tunnels are actually for sewage.”

Crane pulled Mujah back from the edge of the walkway, thumping him gently on the top of his hat for leaning too far. “You ever fall in?” he asked.

“Yeah, once,” Garrett laughed.

“Eww,” Mujah groaned.

“So these friends of yours are monsters, right?” Crane asked as they followed Garrett into one of the main subterranean passages that led toward Marrowvyn. They drew close into the flickering green light of Garrett’s witchfire torch.

“They’re not monsters,” Garrett said, “They’re just not… human.”

“They’re not gonna try anything funny are they?” Crane asked, a little bit of his bravado wilting in the darkness.

“What do you mean?” Garrett asked.

“I mean they eat people, right?” Crane said.

“Oh… yeah, but ghouls only eat dead people,” Garrett insisted, “They aren’t going to try to hurt you or anything.”

Crane made a barely satisfied noise.

“Oh, but, now that I think of it, if someone offers you a pie,” Garrett said, "don't eat it."

The two Lethian boys shared a worried look.

“It’ll be fine, really,” Garrett said, “We’re almost there.”

They emerged at last into the tumbled ruins of the buried city that the ghouls of Wythr called home. Garrett waved at the few ghouls who lived at the outskirts of the old town, and they recognized him well enough to quell their initial alarm at seeing strangers in their midst.

As they approached the old mill where Garrett and the others practiced magic. A burst of green flame erupted from one of the broken windows, and the screams of ghouls cried out from within.

Garrett ran inside, terrified of what he might find, an essence canister clutched in his hand and a spell half-formed on his lips. His eyes went wide at the sight of Diggs the ghoul, suspended three feet above the ground inside a whirlwind of glowing green vapors, and flailing about with his long, shaggy arms. He still clutched an empty essence canister in one hand.

His sister Scupp and Warren were now howling with laughter, and Lady Ymowyn looked on with an expression of disgust on her face.

“Garrett!” Ymowyn called out when she saw him, “Can you do something about this?”

“What happened?” Garrett demanded, staring up at Diggs who had now rotated upside down and begun to spin along with the whirlwind, gathering speed by the moment.

“Help!” Diggs howled, dropping the canister. It clattered and rolled across the floor to Garrett’s feet.

“Where did you get this?” Garrett asked, lifting the empty canister from the floor. The steel casing of the flask bore an intricate filigree of vines, inlaid with brass wire.

“He’s been bargaining with the satyrs,” Warren said, shaking his head.

“I told him not to,” Scupp said, “but you know my brother.”

“Now would be good!” Diggs howled as he began to spin faster. A moment later, Garrett had to leap back to avoid a shower of half-digested pie chunks, all faintly glowing with the remainder of the essence Diggs had drunk.

“Down!” Garrett shouted, and a wave of power rolled from his body, shattering the ghoul’s botched spell into a thousand fading green motes.

Diggs landed with a painful thud on the floor. He whimpered as he stood up, wiping his lips, only to sway and fall over again. He decided to lie there for a while, mumbling a weary thanks to Garrett as Lady Ymowyn rushed to his side to examine him for injuries. Scupp followed after with a broad grin on her face as she savored her brother’s comeuppance.

“Are you all right?” Crane called out as he and Mujah appeared in the doorway behind Garrett. Each of the boys brandished a small knife with wary looks on their faces.

“We’re fine!” Garrett said, “It was just an accident. Everyone is all right.”

“Ugh!” Mujah exclaimed, getting his first whiff of ghoul vomit.

“Maybe we should practice outside today,” Garrett said.

Warren eyed the two Lethian boys with amusement, raising himself to his full height to tower above them. Even Garrett had not really noticed how large Warren had grown over the past year. He was already beginning to rival his father Bargas in stature, if not girth. Ghouls matured far more rapidly than humans it seemed.

“Uh, Garrett,” Crane whispered, his knife still clutched, protectively in front of him.

“It’s all right,” Garrett said, stepping between the boys and the great hairy ghoul, “These are my new friends from up in the city.”

“You brought friends?” Scupp asked, losing all interest in her disoriented brother.

“Yeah,” Garrett said, gesturing for the two boys to step inside as they put their knives away, “These are my friends, Crane and Mujah. They’re Lethians.”

“Lethians?” Diggs coughed, sitting upright suddenly before Lady Ymowyn could prevent him from doing so.

“Really?” Scupp said, her eyes going wide as she advanced on the newcomers.

“Yeah,” Crane said, taking a step back as the ghoul girl approached.

Scupp quickly stepped between Garrett and the boys, sniffing at Crane’s ear with a look of absolute delight on her face. He flinched away in alarm, but she had already turned her attention to the younger boy Mujah.

“He’s just so precious!” Scupp giggled, leaning down to pinch Mujah’s cheek.

“Hey!” Mujah cried as Scupp lifted the brim of his floppy hat with her long nose to nuzzle at his dark hair.

“Leave him alone, Scupp!” Diggs growled, “He’s not ripe yet.”

“What?” Crane gulped.

“Come on, Scupp,” Warren sighed, stepping over to reach for her arm, “Leave ‘em be.”

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