The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (4 page)

Tannyl never saw the blade move and Fae’Na never uttered a sound. But she was falling, and Tannyl could see the wound opened across her throat, a gaping red mouth shouting of his failures. Blaming him. For all of it.

Together, they fell, eyes locked on one another. His knees hit the ground in time with her body. No words could be shared, but in that single moment Tannyl made a vow. And as he yelled, the ground shook. It kept him rooted in place and sent Sachihiro and Jaydan sprawling at his sides.

The woman glided atop the tremor, still grinning as if she’d won the world. Something bellowed from the void, deep and guttural. She clasped her hands together. Fae’Na continued to bleed in the dirt behind her.

“Ah, my dear prince has arrived,” she said as the first giant claw appeared at the edge of the abyss. “He has always had some trouble minding his father, so it would be best if you left us now. It’d be a shame for your lives to end so soon.”

Something large beat at the air inside the black pit, the sound reverberating around the Square. The woman in black leaned forward and placed a hand on Tannyl’s chin. Pointed nails held his skin at the breaking point. She smiled warmly and stepped back from the group, casting another glance at the pit. A second clawed hand had reached the surface. Even in his periphery, Tannyl knew the beast must be gigantic. And not of this world. None of this was of the world he knew.

“We have to get out of here,” Jaydan hissed in his ear.

Tannyl came shakily to his feet just as the great beast emerged. Wings that stretched beyond the Square unfolded and carried the creature of shadow high above the canopy. Its serpentine jaw was lined with teeth the size of swords, and its talons looked capable of cleaving a man in two with the merest flick of its scaled wrist. The roar it unleashed into the night air was gutting. It seemed to destroy the very whisper of hope Tannyl had for the world.

His senses told him that Sachihiro and Jaydan were already running. The woman had vanished as well, swallowed by the shadowy mist that slowly filled the Square. But he couldn’t leave yet. He had made a promise. Beneath the cry of the monstrous creature, he lunged for Fae’Na. He grabbed her face in one hand and her hand in the other. It was still warm and it opened to his, just as it always had in life. He accepted the item within and closed her eyes for the final time as the trees of the very forest shook all around him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing it solved nothing.

Then he ran.

Chapter Three

ALEXANDER PULLED THE spit from the fire and blew on the steaming hare. It had been a good kill. He smiled as he took the first bite. It was largely tasteless and a bit dry, but the accomplishment… that was delicious. After eight days of journeying from the Plains without a successful kill he had begun to wonder how long he could survive on his own. The food his parents had packed ran out on the fifth day and he had been chewing on leaves since then. But the overcooked hare proved that he hadn’t made a mistake. At least not yet.

He leaned against a tree and sighed happily with each bite. When he had finished, he stowed his gear, making sure everything was in order and in easy reach. Just as Father had taught him. His glaive came next.
A man is only as good as his tools.
Alexander could just hear him now and smiled again, bringing whetstone to blade.
Slow and smooth.

They had tried to stop him, of course, but only in the halfhearted way parents do. They knew he would leave; he had always said he would when his siblings had grown. And Alexander was a man of his word. Another lesson well learned. He looked at the night sky, glimpsing the edge of the Mother moon beyond the canopy. He breathed deeply.
A man,
he thought.
That’s what I am now. A man.

A flash of light caught his attention and the concussion that followed stole his breath. His small fire sputtered and fell to smoldering coals. It was gone in an instant, but whatever it was couldn’t have been more than a few hundred feet to the east. Despite the dense forest, he had been nearly blinded by it. Alexander was at the ready in an instant, glaive in hand. He stared into the dark forest, looking for some sign of what had transpired. It seemed the briefest instance of fire, or perhaps lightning, but now the forest was just as dark as before. And just as silent. It was as if time had stopped.

He continued to wait, scanning the undergrowth, until the smell of burning filled his nostrils.
Fire
. Without a second thought, the red-haired Plainsman ran eastward. Fire was a danger in any capacity within the forest, that much he knew, and he also knew that if there was fire then there may well be some creature in peril.
A man does his best to protect those that need it.
Running away from the danger instead of towards it was never a decision he considered.

Whatever had flashed in the forest must have been far brighter than he had first thought, for he ran for a full two minutes before he saw the devastation. A circular area of forest nearly fifty feet across had been burned away. Smoldering debris lay scattered out from the center of the ashen crater. The air was thick with the scent of burned wood and an acrid smell he couldn’t place.

Strangest of all was that the crater was not empty. A pair of young men stood over a much smaller figure. One was short, thin, and plainly dressed. The other was taller, thick of muscle and barrel-chested, with an instrument of some kind strung in the middle of his back. They seemed to be arguing, but Alexander couldn’t make out the words. Now that he had reached his goal, he felt uncertainty creep in.

Behind him a twig snapped, sounding like a strike of thunder in the calm night air. Alexander whirled, glaive at the ready. An elven man stared back at him. Clad in leather armor, he bore a bow, arrow nocked, and piercing emerald eyes. He scowled, but eased the tension on his bow.

“Who are you?” the elf whispered.

Alexander eased into a loose stance and lowered the tip of his blade. “I’m Alexander,” he whispered back.

“Alexander…”

“Farmer,” he added, not knowing what the elf expected of him.

The elf’s scowl deepened. “A Plainsman?”

Alexander nodded. Even without giving his name, he couldn’t imagine it being difficult to ascertain his home. He bore the characteristic fair skin, freckles, and rusted hair of most of the human Plainsmen. He added a short bow, unsure of the customs in the Forest.

The elf held up his hand suddenly and turned to his right. His nostrils flared. Alexander suppressed a laugh. Was he sniffing the air?

“Oh, Sweet Mother,” the elf said before disappearing beneath a mass of fur and fangs.

Alexander nearly fell over backwards. The wolf was enormous, easily covering the elf with its broad body. It was thick with corded muscle, its eyes a deep red. It roared in the elf’s face and bared its teeth. Alexander could hardly discern the elf beneath the great beast, and it didn’t look like he was moving.

Instinct kicked in within moments and he charged, glaive arcing a wide path as he struck for the wolf’s thick neck. The blade sliced through fur and flesh as easily as a scythe through wheat and wedged itself into the dense muscle below. The wolf roared and thrashed against the attack, ripping the weapon from Alexander’s hand and sending him to the forest floor. He tucked his head and rolled to a crouch, ready to react, ready to run.

The wolf whipped its thick head to one side, then the other, trying to free the long-handled weapon from its neck. Blood and phlegm flew from its mouth and then it collapsed, twitching beside the still elf. The wolf convulsed twice more and then lay still. Silence descended. It had taken ten times as long just to corner the hare. And even longer to kill it.

“Great Mother of the Forest,” said a voice from beyond the carnage.

Alexander shook his head and tried to stop his hands from shaking. He’d never had to use the long-handled blade before, having taken his dinner with a stone. He couldn’t decide if he was exhilarated or horrified. The owner of the voice was the burly man he had seen at the center of the circle. The man looked at the wolf, then at the elf, and finally at Alexander. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung slack.

“Great Mother,” he repeated.

Alexander stood and gave an awkward bow. “Alexander,” he said.

The man looked at the elf. “What happened to Tannyl?”

“Wolf.”

The man regarded the animal again and nodded. Then he let out a long whistle and smiled. “I’m Sachihiro,” he said. “Teller. Could you help me get Tannyl back to Jaydan? He’ll patch him up no problem. Then I’m coming back for that wolf. I’m thinking it’d make a great coat.”

Alexander just stared dumbly for a moment before jumping to help him with the fallen elf.

“Is Jaydan the smaller man?”

Sachihiro laughed. “Yeah, that’s Jaydan. He’s with the girl, but I’m sure he’ll love seeing Tannyl like this.”

“Girl?”

Sachihiro nodded.

Alexander didn’t press the issue. It seemed most prudent to get Tannyl whatever help he needed.
Tend to the needs of others first and only then see to your own.

They found Jaydan on the opposite side of the blackened crater, kneeling near a patch of moss. The still form of a young girl lay atop it. Alexander immediately dropped Tannyl’s feet and went to the child. She was covered in a man’s shirt, seemingly void of any of her own clothing. Her fair skin was smudged with soot.

“What happened to her?” Alexander asked without introduction.

Jaydan looked at him and then looked over his shoulder. “Who’s this?”

Sachihiro dropped Tannyl unceremoniously at the base of a tree and made a show of wiping his hands together.

“Saved Tannyl from some wolf,” Sachihiro said as he alighted atop a nearby log. “Any luck with the girl?”

“Does it look like anything has changed?” Jaydan asked tersely.

“She hurt?” Alexander asked, not daring to get too close to the girl. Her hair and skin marked her Plainsmen and the smattering of freckles along her high cheekbones made Alexander think of his sisters.

Jaydan shrugged. “Can’t find anything wrong with her.”

“So, what do we do?” Sachihiro asked.

“Leave her,” said a gravelly voice from the base of the tree near Sachihiro.

Alexander whirled on the elf as he struggled to stand. “You can’t leave her. How can you even say that?”

Tannyl grunted. “Where’s my bow?”

Sachihiro jabbed a thumb back at the pit. “Lying near that pup that nearly killed you.”

“That was not a pup,” Tannyl growled more than said and stomped in the direction Sachihiro had indicated.

When he had gone from view, Alexander turned to the others. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Maybe that wolf hurt him worse than it looked,” Sachihiro offered with a shrug.

“His pride, perhaps,” Jaydan added.

The two laughed in unison, but were quickly silenced as the girl’s eyes flashed open and she began screaming. She dug her hands into the moss at her sides and scuttled away from the men. Her back hit the fallen log Sachihiro was sitting on and she pulled the shirt tightly to her chin.

“Get away. Get away. Get away,” she chanted.

“Listen to that accent,” Sachihiro said nonchalantly. “Sounds fancy. Where you think she’s from?”

“Ask her later,” Jaydan said.

Alexander was too stunned to move, but Jaydan calmly inched forward, his hands held up.

“It’s all right,” he said slowly. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

The girl stopped shouting and took in a couple ragged gulps of air. She continued to squirm against the log as if she wanted it to swallow her.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said softly, her face twisted in horror. Tears ran freely and dropped to the moss. “Please get away from me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jaydan looked at Sachihiro who shrugged and scooted a bit further away from the distraught child. Then he looked at Alexander. He returned the look and swallowed hard.

“We’re here to help you,” Alexander said. He crossed his legs and sat, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. “You know, I have sisters that look just like you,” he said with a warm smile.

The girl was still breathing heavily, but stopped trying to wiggle into the log at her back. After a moment, that slowed as well.

“How many?” she asked, staring at the ground between them.

“Sisters? Eight,” Alexander said. Sachihiro whistled. “And four brothers.”

The girl thought this over a moment. A thin smile curled beneath her tears. “I have thirty-eight brothers and sisters,” she said.

Sachihiro cursed. Jaydan shot him a look like daggers.

“You win,” Alexander said with a soft laugh.

She looked up, made eye contact for a brief moment, and then looked down again. Her fingers picked at the shirt. “They’re not really my brothers and sisters, but that’s what I call them.”

Jaydan leaned a bit closer. “My name is Jaydan,” he said, pointing to his chest. “That’s Sachihiro and this is…”