The Garnet Dagger (16 page)

Soon, I heard footsteps race down the steps.

“So the rumors are true,” Nivel said. “What happened?” He gestured to the lump on the floor. Descended the steps two at a time until he was outside my cage door.

“My father,” I heard the bitterness in my voice, “surrendered his life for me.”

Nivel swirled his robes and sat down. Guards tromped down the stairs.

“Get back, this monster is dangerous — killed his own father.” One of the guards grasped the hilt of his sword.

“Not until I’ve a full report.” He glanced back at me, and then frowned at the body of my father, dead underneath blankets. “Great loss.”

Coldness from the floor seeped into my skin. All I could answer him was with a nod.

“Now. Since you’ve returned, what of the witch?”

“I — I lost her.” My swallow was painful like splinters lined my throat.

“Then why have you come back?” his voice raised an octave as though in irritation.

“Make another dagger.” I leaned forward until my head rested on the iron bars. “I will not fail a second time.”

“But why?” he asked. “The dagger was to lead you to the witch.” His green eyes narrowed. “Tell me the meaning of your words. Why do you need another dagger?”

“I’ve seen things that would you not believe could exist.” With a grimace, I continued. Told of the game I invented for all the village girls to touch the dagger. He clapped his hands in delight.

Then I spoke of my curse, the need to devour essence. Of my encounters with the humans. And then, of my capture into Father Morgan’s hands, Celeste, the Bergone, and the Warloc.

He was silent as I recounted my tale.

Then I raged over the disappearance of Celeste and the dagger. Yet part of me wanted to hold her in my arms without my curse.

“Well,” Nivel cleared his throat, “not a worry then.”

“What … why?” I stared at him dumbfounded.

“It’s simple.” He leaned back adjusting his velvet robes. “The dagger is magical.”

“Aye. I know the dagger was made to find Cel-the witch and spill her blood.” I still could not say her name out loud in the same sentence as harming her.

Was it dangerous then? Perhaps the dagger destroyed Celeste and Shadowdancer because I had stayed my hand instead of killing her the moment I suspected she was the witch. That might explain the bright flash, but where was the dagger now? No, prophecy would not allow me an escape from this torture. There must be another reason for her disappearance. Perhaps her magic jumped her through another place as it had before.

At the thought of Celeste dead by my hand, my insides twisted. Never could I erase her from my memory.

“Where did you keep the dagger on your journey?”

“In my boot,” I answered.

Thought I saw a twinkle in his eyes and wanted to crush his neck. How could he be happy when Celeste was gone? Perhaps even dead because of me.

“Check your boot then.”

“Boot?” I clenched my fists. “But I told you. I gave the dagger to Celeste.”

He pointed to my boots.

“Fine.” I kicked off both boots. After I gave them a shake upside down, no dagger lay inside.

“When did you last see this Celeste?”

“Weeks ago.” Shrugged, but left my boots off. Who needed boots in a dungeon cell?

“And when she touched the dagger?” He frowned.

“Nothing. A glimmer at first. But I delayed in my duty and she vanished.” Then I remembered the day I first met her. But the gem flickered.

“Most distressing.” His hands folded in his lap and I saw the knuckles turn white. “The dagger had safeguards. If lost, or stolen, it would return within a night. Unless of course the witch of the prophecies held it.”

“I needed her to touch the dagger, but I should’ve known better. She was older then the age of human women when they have their first moon. I don’t know why, but I wanted her to try. And at the same time, hoped she was not the one.” A smile tickled at the corners of my mouth. “She considered my offering a gift.”

“But you demanded the gift back,” Nivel said.

“Tried bribery, everything.”

“Why did you not just take it back from her?”

“Because.” I shifted my weight. “Because I could not find the dagger — she hid the blade.”

His fist smacked against the stone floor. “It should matter not. Unless the right witch touches the blade, it should return to you.”

“And you neglected to tell me that before I left because?” I wanted to strangle him.

“No matter.” He stood with his face beaming. “Your finding the witch is enough for now to stay your execution. Need to verify with the prophecies — have Jaris release you to help,” he murmured as he paced toward the stairs.

At his words, I couldn’t breathe. Darkness from the shadows clutched my soul.

Guards ordered me to move back while they opened the door to remove my father. As they gathered up his body, they watched me like I was some animal waiting to strike down another victim. At their departure, the door clanked shut.

Coldness seeped into my bones, having nothing to do with my surroundings, but everything to do with Celeste.

I had to kill her. Why did she have to die? She was an innocent. More so than I was.

The guards whispered, arguing that our people would be better at my death. Nearly did I call out to them to annihilate me. But this was a selfish reason. In death I’d not have to kill her.

Another change of the guards before Nivel rushed down the stairs with Jaris poised at the top. “The council agrees, you’ve not failed them.” He nodded toward Jaris. “So the situation is rectified, I’ve been ordered to travel with you to finish the purifying.” His robes flew behind him as he ran to my cell.

“Release him into Nivel’s care,” Jaris shouted from the top of the stairs, then turned and left.

“Now,” Nivel said shaking the bars on my cell, “we don’t have time for formalities.”

A released prisoner was read their rights before the council. Stricter rules to obey otherwise they would end up back in the dungeons or worse.

With a sigh, one of the guards moved forward. Keys rattled against his tunic. He shoved a key into the lock. The lock sprung open and I grabbed my boots. I should have been overjoyed of this second chance. However, hollowness filled me.

“We’ve horses,” Nivel gestured me forward talking faster than normal, “don’t stand there. Put on your boots and let’s go. Everything’s packed.”

Slid my boots on. Then I chased after him up the stairs. Guards positioned down the hallway to the outside door. Obviously the council wanted no chances of my seeking out revenge upon them.

Ahead of me I saw the flurry of Nivel’s robes as he dashed through the door and then outside. I must not think of Celeste. My heart must be carved of stone with my quest etched across.

My pace quickened until I met him at the horses. Good stock. Both horses were gray with white spots. Even looked as though they’d give Shadowdancer a good sprint. “Where?”

Already Nivel was mounted. “I had them brought here a month after you left. Figured I’d amuse the little ones with them.”

I hurried into the empty saddle and turned back to him questioningly. Once again I felt as though there was more than he was saying.

“Not to worry, prophecies are written in here,” he said tapping the side of his head. “Fed the horses healing herbs.”

“Healing herbs?” My horse beneath me skirted to the left, but I brought her back.

“For the journey. Protection and speed.” He smiled, and then his horse soared down the hill.

I clicked my tongue, and my horse sprung forward after him.

• • •

Hours later we stopped. To rest the horses, and to quiet Nivel’s rumbling stomach.

He pulled out pieces of flat bread. Instead of asking if I wanted some, since he must know I could not, he ate in silence.

In the coldness of the night, I held my cloak tighter. Seeing my chill, Nivel started a fire.

When the fire brought warmth to us, he leaned back. “By now, we should have warmer weather. Spring.”

I nodded at his observation.

“Winter forever and our land dies. We die. Bad enough this disease is spreading through the land.”

“It was this disease in mankind’s forest where I was cursed.”

“Aye.” He drank a sip from his waterskin. “How many coins of mine do you have left? I’d like to eat a good meal at the next town.”

With a swallow, I answered him, “I gave the pouch and two coppers to Celeste before she disappeared.”

He scowled.

No longer could I meet his eyes. I dug through my pack when the medallion rolled across the dirt between us.

“What’s this?” In his palm he fingered the engraved medallion of the woman with a fishtail.

“Just a metal piece.”

His eyebrow rose as he fingered the image.

“A village, don’t remember which one now gave it to me. Their men traveled after a dragon for vengeance. One of the men, a villager’s son has a duplicate.”

“Strange. Thought you’d have sold this.”

“I gave my word. If I find his son, I’ll return the medallion to him.”

He smiled and handed me another coin pouch from his robes. “Thought you’d need more coins.”

I placed the medallion inside the pouch and stuffed it into my boot.

“So, tell me where you saw this Celeste last?” He took another swig of water from the waterskin. “Any idea where she would have gone?”

“The Warloc.”

He dropped the waterskin. Water poured across his cloak. And he snatched the skin back up. “Warloc? Why would she go there?”

“Don’t know. Just a feeling I have. Or more than likely he took her.” The fire popped. “He told me she was to be his at Beltane. That’s just a week from now.”

“We must find her. According to the prophecies, only you’re the one to spill her blood. Anyone else, and we are lost.”

“Why did she have to get involved with a Warloc? I’d rather just deal with her and get this over with.”

“My boy, you’ve been fighting this Warloc from the beginning.”

My disbelief must have radiated across the firelight.

“In the woods, where the blight was. How do you think it got there in the first place?”

Sweat trickled down my back. I’d hoped since Nivel was with me, he could kill her. My hands clenched at the thought. Owls hooted in the distance.

“Got to catch my sleep, my boy.” He shifted until he lay down upon a patch of dry ground. “Some of us can’t live without it.”

I watched Nivel as he slept. At first light we’d start again. Towards the Warloc’s lair, of which I did not know the location. Forced my mind to think of Celeste as a villain to eliminate. But my heart, filled with the memory of her kiss, eluded reasoning.

• • •

Since I knew where Father Morgan was, we rode to his village first.

No worries of other villages crossed our minds. We traveled through them at night, and rested in the forest until midday.

Four days on horseback, stopping for Nivel to rest, chafed my backside. Who knows what the Warloc did with Celeste. If we were too late because of Nivel’s dawdling, I’d strangle the life essence from him.

Outside the village, Nivel tugged up the hood of his cloak. “No surprises.” He motioned me to tug my hood up as well. “Keep your head down. Let me speak with this Head Priest.”

I obeyed and followed behind him to play the part of the dutiful son. He wrapped his hand in bandages, but didn’t offer me any explanation as to why.

At the tower, he glanced back at me and I nodded so he would know this where we’d find Father Morgan.

Drawing rein, he stopped his horse and let her nibble at a clump of yellowed grass. I copied his movements.

My eyes search for threat. “Should we tie the horses?”

“Nay.” He placed a finger along each horse’s mane in turn. “They’ll not stray, or allow another to touch them.”

I followed him to the oak door at the base of the tower. If any of them recognized me, I’d be in for a battle with all of them. I chuckled, thinking maybe a few would flee when they saw me. Nivel glared at me, then rapped on the door.

After a long pause, the door swung open. A monk stood before us. Underneath my lashes, I saw his eyebrows were furrowed and his ruddy face seasoned with sweat.

“We’ve come a long distance, and heard of the great works of Father Morgan.” Nivel smiled down at the monk. “My son and I wish to meet with the legend.”

“Nay.” The monk’s lower lip dribbled saliva and sweat. “Don’t take tours. Be about your business elsewhere.”

“If I may,” Nivel said sticking his boot in the closing door, “we deem Father Morgan as the spokesman of God. Should we donate our charity to the other village who welcomes weary travelers?” His hand clinked on a coin bag.

At the monk’s frown, Nivel opened the pouch. Gold coins winked in the sunlight.

“I did not recognize a patron of Fa — er the Church’s work.” He bowed his head. The door opened. “Come in.”

Nivel pushed past the monk. I entered the tower behind him.

“Come with me.” The monk pressed up the winding stairs.

My eyes darted to the door at the top of the stairs. The door I came through last time I ascended these stairs. Two flights up, however, we came to another door. With a cough, the monk knocked twice, then entered.

“Forgive the intrusion, Father, but we’ve benefactors who wish to speak with you.”

Fire crackled in a stone fireplace. Across the room lay a heap on a wooden bed. Carved cherubs smiled down at the slumbering form.

“Lean me up,” his command from the bed was followed by a gurgling sound.

The monk rushed to the bed and wrestled with the figure lying there. Stench of rotted meat flooded the room. And I realized with dread the smell came from the bed.

Father Morgan propped up against pillows stared at us. Fearing he recognized me, my gaze lowered down to the floor.

“Father Morgan.” Nivel swept forward as though being reunited with a relative. At the edge of the bed, he kneeled. “Accept this as a token of your followers throughout the land.” He handed him the leather pouch filled with gold coins.

At an exhalation the gurgling sounded once again. “And you are?”