Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1) (26 page)

Jezebel wiped at the water on the front of
her dress and gave him a pinched look before heading into the
library to check on Devon. She knelt beside him and put her own
hand over him, adding her strength to the web of healing that
Jonathan had woven and Jonathan was impressed by her power despite
himself. Although he did note in the back of his mind that while
Jezebel was lending Devon her strength through power, a tiny flow
of energy was also flowing back into her. As Jonathan looked
curiously at it with his mage sight he saw that it looked blood
red.

“So,” Jonathan said, bringing her attention
back to him, “what the blazes happened here?”

Jezebel's face twisted in rage and she spat
out, “That little slut that I had thrown out was here and she stole
something. A little box. She had an old man with her posing as a
minstrel who got Devon.” She nodded to Devon.

“And what was in the box?” Jonathan prompted,
trying to get the whole story out of her.

“I don't know,” Jezebel said irritably. “It
wasn't anything that I recognized. But why else would she be
here...” She paused for a moment, thinking, before a shadow passed
over her face. “Unless...”

She stood and pushed past Jonathan, ignoring
his queries. She quickened her pace as she came to the top of the
stairs that led to the cellar. She took these two at a time, and
Jonathan followed, keeping pace.

At the bottom, Jezebel roared in fury at the
sight of an empty cell. The lock on the door looked to have been
melted away. Jonathan saw tiny wisps of flame dancing off her
fingertips, and he wisely chose to shut his mouth, stepping aside
so that he was blending in with the wall and out of Jezebel's way.
He knew the dangers of touching the power when not in control of
one's emotions and had no desire to be what Jezebel took her
overload out on.

Luckily, she was still facing the cell when
she lost control. She screamed belligerently, and threw her hands
out with fingers wide. Great balls of fire shot out from them,
blowing through the cell wall and leaving a huge blackened crater
on the other side.

Jezebel turned towards him, breathing deeply
and he waited for her to regain control. He could see the fight she
had within herself, but admirably her breathing slowed in a
relatively short amount of time, and Jonathan took a tentative step
towards her.

“Well,” she said tranquilly, “Shall we take
some tea in the library?”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her abrupt
change of character, but didn't comment. He simply moved aside, and
indicated that she should lead the way. She did so, carefully
lifting her dress which was now completely dry, and made her way
back to the library. She told the confused servants to bring them
tea as she stepped around the unconscious body of Devon.

When the servant returned to hand them tea,
Jezebel ordered in an off-hand manner, “Do something with that,
would you?” She waved at Devon's limp form, and then turned to
Jonathan. He was started to feel a bit anxious again, and he
started tapping his foot on the ground as she asked him, “What can
I do for you today?”

Jonathan scratched at an itch that was
spreading over his arm and answered. “I need a report on your
progress, and you may as well tell me who it was in the cell down
there too.”

Jezebel wrinkled her nose at him, but
complied. “Devon chatted with a few of the people as you suggested,
but none could tell us very much. Either they were very well
trained or they really just don't know.” She gave him a few details
of the interviews and he conceded that no real information had been
obtained.

“And the cell downstairs,” he prompted.

“That had Gryffon in it. You may remember
Gryffon as the ungrateful urchin who was here a while back until I
kicked him out after I caught him harassing one of the maids.”

Jonathan nodded, though this was not the
story that he had heard.

She went on, “Well, Devon had been watching
him and had determined that he was under suspicion of being from
Treymayne – since he lied about where he came from. Not only that,
but he had met with contacts at several locations thought to be
drop spots with men who then rode off east before shaking their
tails.”

Jonathan leaned forward intently, and
scratched his other arm now which had started to itch as well. “And
what did you learn from him?”

Jezebel shifted in her seat. “Well, he was
very uncooperative and he didn't want to talk.”

Jonathan felt his own anger returning. Not
only had he had to deal with his own personal loss today, but now
he would have to report that they had learned nothing to Master. He
would be most displeased, and unlikely to want to help Jonathan
recover his lost prize.

“He was carrying a piece of parchment, but
it's nonsense, just some drivel about hunting.”

Jonathan stopped scratching and demanded,
“Where is it?”

Jezebel waved towards one of the tables that
were piled high with books. “I think I threw it into one of those
books, but really it's nothing.”

“Maybe to you,” snapped Jonathan ungraciously
as he rifled through the books until he found the parchment. He
waved it at her accusingly, “But maybe not to everyone.” She looked
at him curiously, and he wondered if she would cause a scene to
take it back. The thought seemed to occur to her, but then she must
have changed her mind.

“There was something strange about the girl,”
she commented nonchalantly, “a mark on her neck. Does that mean
anything to anybody?”

Jonathan looked at her, trying to feign
boredom while ignoring the itch which had moved down to his side.
“What kind of mark?” he asked a bit more excitedly than he
intended. He watched for her reaction.

“Oh, some kind of symbol, similar to the
runes used for spells. Probably nothing, but I thought I'd mention
it just in case since you got so excited about the hunting letter.”
She said the last with more sarcasm than Jonathan would have
normally cared to take without retaliating, but he let it go. He
opted instead for a quick exit, his mood much improved by this
unexpected news.

Once in the carriage, he took another tiny
bit of the white power and scrubbed it on his gums. The effects
were starting to wear off faster than they used to. He made his way
to the meeting point and was pleased to see that despite the fact
that he was running late, he had still arrived before Master. The
man was barely two steps behind him, however, and he greeted him
curtly before waving him to report.

Jonathan gave a brief description of all that
had transpired at Jezebel's and handed him the parchment. It
read:

“T
h
e hun
ti
n
g
h
as
be
en
l
ea
n
her
e
. I ha
v
e
se
e
n ve
ry lit
tl
e
i
n t
h
e way
o
f si
gn.
I
di
d fin
d o
n
e smal
l
ru
b
on a t
re
e, but
n
ot w
el
l
pr
on
ou
nc
ed a
n
d
the
r
e wa
s
n
o s
crap
e ne
a
rb
y no
r
we
re
the
tr
ack
s ve
r
y
l
ar
g
e
a
t
al
l
. T
h
e
d
eer
s
e
em
t
o
b
e t
a
k
i
ng
t
h
e wi
n
te
r
h
a
rd
th
is year.”

His master nodded in approval. “You were
right to think that this may be more useful than it seems. And the
other news?”

Jonathan continued. “The servant girl that
defied Jezebel has a mark. Jezebel said she saw a strange rune-like
symbol behind her ear, the same place that all the others have
been. And, the level of power it would have taken to have burned
away the metal of the lock indicates that she’s fairly strong. She
has a mark.” He repeated it in his excitement.

“Does she now,” commented Master, his
curiosity aroused. “Well, that is interesting news indeed.”

CHAPTER 20

The three riders finally stopped for the
night, and Layna dragged her aching body off the horse. She was
sore all over, both from riding and from trying to support Gryffon
in front of her while he slipped in and out of consciousness. She
felt drained, and barely had enough energy to help Charles set up
camp before collapsing into one of the pine bough beds and falling
instantly asleep.

The next morning, she felt much more
refreshed and was surprised to see Gryffon sitting up by the fire
with Charles. He looked much better than he had yesterday.

“Ho there, sleepy-head,” greeted Charles as
he noticed her movement and she grinned sheepishly.

“I guess I was a little exhausted from
yesterday.”

“As well you should be,” said Gryffon. “I
feel ten times better than I did and I know Charles' cooking here
is not the cause,” he joked, jerking his head towards Charles who
made a face at him. “You used up quite a lot of energy, physical
and magical.”

“Hmm.” She eyed the eggs that Charles was
frying. As soon as he handed her the plate she wolfed them down,
burning her mouth in her impatience. She licked her fingers clean
and sighed happily. “I don't know, Gryffon,” she told him
blissfully, “I think his cooking just could be that amazing.”

She giggled, and Charles grinned widely while
pointing the spoon at Gryffon. “You see? Someone ‘preciates my
cookin’.” His expression suddenly dulled.

“Are you alright?” Layna asked him,
concerned.

Charles looked taken by surprise as he came
out of his lost little moment. “What? Oh yes, I was just
remembering Mila's cookin’.” He paused and then said in a pained
voice, “I can't believe she's gone.” Layna glanced at Gryffon and
realized by his lack of surprise that Charles must have filled him
in on Mila's passing. Charles' voice took on a firmer quality. “She
saved me you know.” They listened quietly as he told his story. “I
got caught out in a big ol' snowstorm some years back. It had come
on all of a sudden like, as if one of the Three took a great big
bucket and dumped it down right atop of me. Took a bad step on the
pass, and I went down. Buried alive.” He paused for a long moment
and Layna wondered if he would continue. “Then she was there, even
now I'm not sure that I know how she found me. But find me she did.
She took me in and cared for me, healin’ me even as the fever took
hold and I was ravin’ lunatic mad. For weeks I was in delirium,
caused quite a bit of a ruckus at her house there, I did.” He
chuckled. “She was one fine woman,” he mused adoringly. Then a
shadow passed over his features. “And to have her snatched away
from this world by someone as slimy and hateful as that slug of a
man hurts me. I'll help you two youngsters much as I can to get
back at them. I don't like that awful woman any more than the slime
who held the knife. No doubt she was behind it.” Charles turned to
Gryffon and asked him, “Why did they kidnap you anywho?”

Gryffon fidgeted uncomfortably, as if trying
to make up his mind about something. Finally, he seemed to come to
a conclusion and he answered. “She found out something about me.
She thought that by torturing me she could get me to betray more
about it. Not to mention the fact that she's a truly evil
individual who revels in causing pain to any who aren’t blindly
obedient to her demands.”

Charles watched him, expressionless. Layna
looked from his face to Gryffon's and asked, “Well, what did she
find out about you?”

He paused and wouldn't look her in the eye.
“She found out that I'm really from Treymayne. I'm an agent here
sent because we believe that someone is collecting high talents,
and now there's been information that your government may be
planning a war.” He rambled it all out quickly, as if hoping that
by breaking the news swiftly it would soften the blow to Layna's
pride at being deceived.

“You're what?” she sputtered, and Gryffon
repeated himself, almost verbatim. “So everything was a lie?” she
shot at him. “And you were just using us all to milk us for
information, trying to make us betray our own homeland? How could
you?”

“I wasn't-”

“No!” she cut him off. “I don't want to hear
it. All this,” she waved her hands in front of her in a circular
motion, “is way too much for me to handle right now.” She felt
tears welling up and she impatiently brushed them off. She stood
from the fire and stalked off.

“Layna, wait,” Gryffon called after her.

Layna heard Charles advise, “Let her go,” and
no footsteps followed. Layna was devastated.
How much of what we
did together had he then gone and reported to his countrymen? Was
it some big joke that Gryffon got all this information from a silly
little girl who didn't know any better?
Layna laughed shortly
to herself.
As if I have any information that was worth
reporting. To think that I just risked my life for that, that
.
Layna couldn't think of an appropriate word for him. She wanted to
hate him. But she didn't. After a while the cold started to seep in
through her clothes, and she forced herself back to the fire where
Gryffon and Charles were speaking in low voices.

“So,” she said coldly, only meeting Charles's
eyes, “where are we going to go now?”

Charles looked to Gryffon and back at Layna
who still refused to look in Gryffon's direction. Gryffon remained
silent, so Charles answered, “We were thinkin' it'd be right smart
to head down to that there Avonmora. There's enough people there
that we shouldn't be noticed, and Gryffon can get a message to his
people to ask for help.”