Heart of Fire (41 page)

She turned to him, her eyes wide and
sparkling. “You’re to be king?”

“Aye.”

“My son is to be king.” She paused,
letting the words sink in. “I never thought I would see the day
when the king of Shaldar would have elven blood running through his
veins.” She nodded. “This is remarkable news.”

They talked more and day wore away.
Lastlight drew in around them. Crickets sang and the first evening
stars glimmered in the sky

Ertemis pointed. “Are you tired,
mother? There’s a clearing ahead. We could camp there for the
night.”

“I might be too excited to sleep,
but I could eat a little supper.”

Ertemis dismounted when they reached
the spot and helped his mother down. “Brynden, see to the horses
while I start a fire. Mother, I don’t see a bedroll among your
things.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You can use mine.” He unpacked his
and tossed it to the ground before handing Dragon’s reins to
Brynden.

“Ertemis!”

Jessalyne’s frightened cry pierced
his mind. He felt her anger in his bones. The bitter taste of her
fear filled his mouth. Snatching Dragon’s reins back from Brynden,
he leapt into the saddle. “Brynden, see my mother safely back to
Shaldar in the morning. I must leave now. Something’s wrong.
Jessalyne needs me.” And with that, he was gone.

Ertemis arrived at the castle gates
well before firstlight, his mind racing with possibilities. He
hadn’t heard Jessalyne’s voice again, no matter how many times he
called out to her. He could still hear her heartbeat but it had
grown progressively fainter. Nothing had ever filled him with such
fear.

Judging from the lights still
burning in the great hall and the amount of people milling about,
something significant had happened. He handed Dragon off to a
stable boy and strode inside. He headed for the king’s quarters,
nearly colliding with Laythan on the stairs.

“Prince Ertemis, we thought you were
gone.” He rubbed his brow.

“What happened to Jessalyne?”
Ertemis clenched his fists at his side.

“How did you—”

“What. Happened. To.
Jessalyne.”

Laythan’s face blanched. “She’s
gone.”

Chapter
Twenty-one

Three grown men hovered over a small
blue female.

“Oww!” Fynna squirmed.

“Fynna, please hold still. Your head
needs to be bandaged.” Laythan tried again to clean the cut near
her temple.

Raythus patted her knee. “Be brave,
little one.”

“Here, squeeze my hand when it
hurts.” Ertemis went down on one knee beside the chaise and offered
his hand. She grabbed his first two fingers, gripping them as
Laythan continued his ministrations.

“Almost done.” He spread salve over
her wound and then wrapped a swath of linen around her head and
tied it off. “There. You can stop cutting off the prince’s
circulation.”

“She’s barely touching me.” He slid
onto the chaise next to Fynna. “Do you feel up to telling me what
happened?”

“Mm-hmm.” A sob hiccupped through
her and she worried the hem of her tunic as she spoke.

“Jessalyne had already gone to bed
when I decided to go to the kitchen for a snack. When I came back,
our door was open a little and I heard noises, like a scuffle. I
shoved the door open and someone was standing over Jessalyne,
holding her down on the bed with a cloth over her face. I ran in,
and they hit me and knocked me down. Before I could get up, they
held the cloth over my face and I must have passed out.

“Did you get a look at their face at
all?”

“No. They had a dark cloak on and a
scarf wrapped around their face.” She started to weep. “I’m sorry.
I should have yelled for help.”

“It’s okay, Fynna. You tried to
help. Do you remember anything else?”

“No, I’m sorry. Maybe I will when my
head stops hurting.”

He turned to look at Laythan and
Raythus. “Has the substance on the cloth been
identified?”

Laythan nodded. “Fynna knew it
immediately.”

Ertemis looked at her, trying to
maintain his patience. He should be out searching for Jessalyne.
“What was it?”

“Bitterlace. I’d recognize it
anywhere. Sryka used it to stun all manner of insects and
rodents.”

“Did you touch the intruder at
all?”

“I grabbed a good handful of their
cloak before they hit me.”

“Which hand?”

“My left.”

Ertemis lifted her hand to his face
and inhaled. The scent hit him hard and he growled, low and
throaty. Fynna snatched her hand away.

He looked up at his father, his face
contorted with rage. “Erebus.”

Raythus turned to the guard awaiting
orders near the parlor entrance. “Take another guard with you to
the dungeons and bring Sryka back to me. We will see what she
knows.” He scowled. “If Erebus is indeed responsible for
this…”

Ertemis stood, his hand on his
sword. “If he has harmed Jessalyne, blood or not, I will kill
him.”

Raythus nodded. “It doesn’t make me
happy but I understand.” The parlor doors opened and they all
turned.

Two pages entered with breakfast
trays, doing their best not to look overcurious about what was
going on. They did a quick bow and placed the trays on the table,
lifting the silver covers off and stepping back.

“Son, you should eat. You will need
your strength.”

“I don’t much feel like it but I
agree. I will also need food to take with me.” He went to the table
and bolted down a few mouthfuls of meat and cheese.

Raythus spoke to the older page.
“Have cook fix a parcel of food for traveling and have it sent to
the stables for Dragon’s packs. Tell her it’s for the crown
prince.”

The pages bowed and barely avoided
being knocked down on their way out by the king’s guard rushing
in.

“Sryka’s gone, your majesty. The
night guard’s had his throat slit and the door to her cell was
unlocked. There’s nigh a trace of her.”

Ertemis threw down the morsel of
meat in his hand. “Blast it! They are in league. Where I find one,
I will find both. And there I will find Jessalyne.”

Raythus held up his hands in dismay.
“But we’ve no idea where they’ve gone.”

Ertemis turned to Fynna, who’d found
her way to the table. Her mouth was full of bread and both hands
held more food.

“Do you recall seeing a dagger among
Jessalyne’s things? She used to wear it on her belt.”

Fynna nodded, swallowing before
answering. “She stopped wearing it after she arrived here. It’s
tucked away in her things.”

“Do you feel well enough to find it
and bring it to me at the stables?”

“Of course!” With a flutter of her
wings, she lifted off the floor and hovered for a moment. “I’ll be
right there.” She snagged one last slice of bread before flying out
of the room.

Ertemis clasped his father’s
forearm. “I will explain when I return. Brynden should be arriving
with my mother by midday. I must go after Jessalyne.”

“My prayers go with you that you
both come home safe.”

* * *

Ertemis had finished saddling Dragon
when Fynna flew in, dagger in hand.

“I found it.”

Ertemis reached for it but she
pulled away, hovering just beyond his reach.

“I have no time for games,
pixie.”

Fynna floated back, a little less
sure. “I want to come with you.”

“Nay. This is my business. I will
deal with it as I see fit.”

“Jessalyne is my best friend. I am
coming with you.”

“You will slow me down.”

“I can fly faster than your horse
can run.”

“Your head is still bandaged. You
need rest.”

“Did you sleep last
night?”

“Are you always this
infuriating?”

“You have no idea.”

He cursed. “Fine. Give me the
dagger. Now.”

She handed it over, her wings a blur
of color as she waited for him to finish.

Just as he was about to mount, a
voice called out to him. “Has the wedding been
cancelled?”

Ertemis looked up.
“Valduuk.”

“Who else? Or were there other
trolls invited?”

“I did not expect you to arrive so
soon.” He alighted Dragon’s back.

Valduuk narrowed his eyes. “What’s
wrong?”

“Jessalyne’s been kidnapped by my
half brother and the king’s magewoman. I go to hunt them down and
bring her back.”

Valduuk eyed Fynna. “If that’s the
best muscle this city has to offer, I think I’ll come
along.”

“Jessalyne is my friend. She needs
me,” Fynna said.

“My apologies, mistress pixie, I
meant only to offer my services to my legion brother, not to slight
you.”

“Enough! You two can chatter while
we move.” He nudged Dragon and rode past them toward the castle
gates. They quickly caught up.

Fynna gave Valduuk a once over. “I’m
Fynna.” She held out her hand as she hovered along at his eye
level.

Valduuk bowed as he lifted her tiny
hand with one finger, brushing his lips across it. “I wish we were
meeting under better circumstances, Mistress Fynna. I am Valduuk. I
must tell you, I have never seen a more beautiful shade of
blue.”

Outside the city walls, Ertemis
brought them to a stop and extracted the dagger. With the handle
firmly in hand, Ertemis called up his love’s imprinted heartbeat,
meshing it with his until the two harmonized as one. He turned in a
slow circle until the lunestone came alive with a lambent
glow.

“How did you do that?” Fynna
asked.

“I didn’t do. Jessalyne
did.”

Fynna scrunched up her face in
confusion. “You aren’t making sense.”

“Her heartbeat is imprinted into my
memory. When I adjust my heart’s rhythm to hers this dagger reacts
as though Jessalyne’s holding it. Somehow it knows the way to
Sryka, and where Sryka is, Jessalyne will be. I feel
it.”

“Can’t you just listen for her
heartbeat? You’ve found me that way in battle several times,”
Valduuk said.

Ertemis’s fought to keep his emotion
from his words. The clearest head in battle usually won. “I tried.
It’s too faint. Whatever Erebus and Sryka have done to her, they
will pay.” He nudged Dragon forward.

Fynna shuddered. Valduuk looked at
her. “What’s wrong?”

“Sryka.” Fynna spit. “She is a mean,
spiteful, evil hag. She stole my wings but Jessalyne got them back
for me.”

Valduuk raised one bushy brow. “I’ll
see she gets what’s coming to her.”

“If she’s hurt Jessalyne, all you’ll
have to deal with is scraps.” Ertemis pointed north. “We follow the
line of the dagger.”

Valduuk grunted. “The land beyond
Shaldar’s borders is dangerous territory. How far north do you
think they went?”

“Since when does danger bother you?
Tavern keeper’s life making you soft?”

With a fierce growl, Valduuk threw
his shoulders back exposing a leather band laden with throwing
stars strapped across his chest. He put one hand on his broadsword
and the other on his battle-axe. “I live for madness and
mayhem.”

“Good, I have the feeling you’re
about to get your fill.” Ertemis shot him a curious look. “By the
way, Valduuk, since when do you attend a royal wedding wearing
every weapon you own?”

Valduuk smiled, revealing rows of
razor sharp teeth. “Firstly, this is only half of what I own. And
secondly, if a woman can tame you, I’m taking every precaution
available.”

* * *

Jessalyne woke cold and bruised. Her
mouth parched as sand. Utter darkness surrounded her. She shivered.
Dampness wicked into her from the hard, gritty ground. Every joint
ached. She licked her lips and tasted blood. Something reeked like
rotting flesh. Groaning, she remembered the cloaked man in her
room. He’d hit her across the face when she’d kicked him in the
gut. Right before he’d clamped a rag soaked in bitterlace over her
nose and mouth.

She tried to sit only to find her
hands chained behind her back. Following the links around with her
fingers, she felt where it looped through a ring sunk into the
stone floor. Tugging, she tested it. Solid as the stone beneath
her.

The clank of her constraints being
tried brought footsteps down a set of nearby stairs and a bright
light. A door was unlocked. Slices of light danced through the
bars, but the figure holding the lantern was indiscernible.
Jessalyne squinted as the blazing lantern bobbed closer but still
couldn’t see who held it. She glanced away and something sparkled,
catching her eye. A circle of crystals surrounded her.

“Ah, good. You’re finally awake.
I’ll fetch Mistress Sryka.”