Read The Garnet Dagger Online

Authors: Andrea R. Cooper

Tags: #Romance, #paranormal

The Garnet Dagger (3 page)

BOOK: The Garnet Dagger
3.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Unable to answer I held out my hand. The dagger felt heavy and cool in my palm.

“You must pierce her heart, and spill her blood upon the ground.”

I swallowed at the vision of plunging this blade into a human’s heart. “Can you give me nothing else? No name or anything?”

“Given all I can,” he said holding up his hands. “Pack quickly. The elders are on their way to exile you.”

The knot in my stomach tightened.

Banishment. More disgraceful than death. But what did I expect? I was an abomination. I nodded numbly and thrust the dagger down into the side of my leather boot.

“They age faster than us. Their girls experience their menstruation between eleven and fourteen.”

Grasping handfuls of silk tunics and trousers, I shoved them into my pack.

Nivel stuffed three apples and a mound of flatbread in with the clothes. Rummaged through his robes again, then held out a cloth bag. The clinking sound brought my eyes to meet his.

“Coins. You’ll need them.”

“Where?” I glanced into the open pouch. These were human coins.

His weary smile silenced me. “Each year, for a few weeks, I sell stone carvings in a village. Elders are given leniency of the laws.”

With a shrug, I accepted the coins. Knowing again characteristics of mankind, I stuffed the pouch in my other boot.

“Brock,” he said.

The saying of my name with a hand on my shoulder sent a ripple through me.

“Our fate depends on you. You are the Reaper of Death, but also the Bringer of our Hope.”

“How?” Heaviness plopped in my heart. “I go to save my family. Even if my life be forfeit, everyone else will live.”

“You did not read all the prophecies. This heralds our destruction as well. Already, the disease of the land spreads through the trees.” His words brought back the images and laments of the forest where the creature attacked me. “Soon, our own trees will decay.”

Unable to answer I strapped my scabbard and sword to my waist. He handed me my quiver and bow. I heard the echoing march of soldiers approach. Shrugged on my cloak over my weapons and snatched up my pack.

The marble door vibrated as they opened it.

Armed men surrounded Jaris. “Brock Rashwe, son of Lieves Rashwe, son of tree elves, brother to the wind, earth, and water, from forthwith you are banished. Less than four seasons have you to fulfill the prophecy, or your family and all will die.”

I nodded.

With gloved hands, they snatched me. Dragged me forward, then down the stairs. Through the entry they tossed me aside.

Ancients shielded our tree cities from mankind’s sight. Our lands mingled with theirs. And yet, they don’t know us.

In our history, when the wars with the humans came, we withdrew from them. The remains of our history among them are considered fable or myth. Our Ancients erected a barrier only our kind may cross. Yet, our barrier is somehow invisible to them. If I crossed the barrier, would it then prevent me from returning while I was still this monster of death?

Wisps of moss clung to our tree city like shawls the human women wore. It was autumn now so the amethyst flowers that donned the leaves in spring were gone. Liana and I were to marry then. Eagerly, I had carved a home for us on the outer edge of a branch.

Anger coursed in my veins. I rose. My fists pounded on the trunk to open for me. But all was silent, not moving.

Squaring my shoulders, I donned my pack and hiked to the village. I’d find this witch and bring back her head. Then they’d welcome me home.

Chapter Five

In the darkness I wait at the edge of this human village. The course of my redemption: to find a witch, spill her blood, and kill her.

Wished for the sun to rise, to awaken these humans, as they call themselves. And madness has brought me here.

Fortunately, the wolves, upon seeing my banished state, ceased their howling. Their part of the prophecy done, they scampered through the woods returning to their nature.

Strange, but I didn’t feel sleepy. My vision sharper in the dark now than before. No longer did I need to eat the Fingecoup flowers to improve my night vision.

Morning glories puckered for the sun. Ants trudged through the grass looking for food.

Roosters’ crows mingled with babies’ cries. If I’d but known the trouble my romping would bring, my feet would have stayed within one of the tree houses, within Tamlon.

The excitement which made me excited at the prospect of being among the world of mankind now was a dull ache.

Adjusted my pack, I then hiked down the hill towards the awakening village.

Bakers doused in flour kneaded dough. Baking bread and hot-crossed buns once sent my mouth watering, but now annoyed me. Street merchants wandered through town. Each step rang bells tied on their leather shoes.

Kept my head down, and ignored calls for trinkets, rugs, or hogs. Pushed my way through the growing throng, to the village inn. Sidestepped an old man who struggled with a full barrel of sloshing liquid in his arms.

I ducked as I entered the inn to avoid hitting my head on the low doorframe. Inside the inn, I marched up to the barmaid.

A round woman with a ruby nose and cheeks. “Nothing but Kofrab or water served ‘til lunch,” she said wiping her hand down her apron. “But for a kiss, handsome, I’ll pass you a glass of honey liquor.”

Her breath made me want to shrivel back. Smelled of putrid fish with rotting bread, and carried a scent of spoiled milk. “How much for a room?”

“Three tronce.”

Nodding, I reached down and dug out the pouch of coins. Sifted through the gold and silver coins. Instead of a mere tronce, I tossed a silver coin on the counter. I paid more than she asked with the unspoken agreement that she would not ask me any questions.

Before I blinked she captured the spinning coin.

“Give you a week’s stay. This way.”

I followed her to the back of the bar, up a narrow stairway, and entered into a room at the end of a hallway.

The barmaid slammed the door behind her leaving me alone in my quarters. Brown streaks ran through the white-washed walls.

A straw mattress and stool huddled in one corner. Rusted chamber pot and pitcher lolled on their sides. When I stepped forward, my leather boots stuck to the floor.

At least this room had a window. Cracked darkened glass cut an opening in the far wall of the room. Ignoring the sticky floor, I tossed my pack on the bed and opened the window.

Hinges groaned in protest, but I raised the window a foot .I smiled. I could see most of the town square.

I turned and added my cloak, bow, and quiver of arrows to the bed.

Dragged the stool to the window and sat. I watched the people careening through the streets. Girls and boys chased by yapping dogs.

Humans’ lives flashed like the sunset. They didn’t live as long as us.

As long as my kind used to live. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. If Nivel’s words could be trusted, if I didn’t succeed, my kind would die by next winter.

What age were these girls? I’d no idea.

Anxiety dove into my stomach. How was I to find the right girl, the witch? Surely I could not ask them all to touch the blade.

Kicked back the stool, and I paced the room. Five steps east, ten steps north, and back again. The slurping sound of my boots lifting from the sticky floor slowed my pace.

Blastfire. How would I know the girls to test? They didn’t come with their ages stamped on their forehead.

I stopped back at the window. Silver hair or women carrying babies, I could leave aside as too old or not virgins. But what of all the sprites who skipped through town?

Hours ticked by as the sun rose overhead. But still the answer would not come.

Doubled back and righted the stool. I removed the dagger from my boot. And turned the blade over in my hand.

As if expecting a response, I stared at the garnet gem. Not even a twinkle lit up the blood garnet. The dark gem seemed lifeless.

Cursing, I spun and hurled the knife to the far wall. The blade pierced into the wall and the handle vibrated. Shocked, I stared from the knife to the humans below.

Of course.

But I would need a reward. I snatched the blade from the wall and replaced it inside my boot.

After heaving the door open, I rushed from the room. The door creaked shut behind me.

My steps quickened down the stairs.

Not asking, the barmaid raised an eyebrow.

“How much for a flask?”

“Half a tronce for honey liquor.” She rubbed a glob of yellow fluid from her nose down the side of her skirt.

“How much just for the flask to keep?”

I noticed sparse black hairs growing from underneath her chin.

“No one’s ever asked. One tronce.”

Though I thought the price high, but I couldn’t argue. Dipped into my fund, I placed a copper coin in her palm. Kept two silver ones in my hand. Her face lit up when the rest of my coins clinked as I forced the pouch back into my boot.

A flask filled with murky brown liquid was shoved forward to me. Mumbling my thanks, I grasped the metal flask and strolled out of the inn.

Suspicion and questions would hinder my journey.

Outside, I dumped the foul liquid on the cobblestones. Gathering my courage, I dropped the two silver coins into the flask.

After I passed the town square, I set the flask on the ground.

So as not to arouse panic, I eased the blade from my boot. Not looking around me I aimed for the flask.

As I planned, the blade skirted off the top making a clanking sound. Shaking my head I bent over and picked up the dagger.

Again, I tossed the blade. This time I missed the flask. The dagger clattered on the cobblestones to my right.

Curious children watched me. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw them. Grimed with dirt and filth, boys and girls scooted closer. Dread tightened knots in my stomach. These were children. Did prophecy expect me to murder a child? I pushed the thought away; it was not a child, but a witch I looked for.

Four more flings of the dagger and all of the children crowded around me.

“Whatcha doing?” a freckled face boy asked.

“Trying to throw the dagger into the flask.”

“Why?” the boy asked.

Glancing down at him, I saw his brown eyes were close set giving the appearance of being crossed.

“To see if I can.” Once more I tossed the dagger. “Missed. Perhaps you’d care to try?”

Spotted blackened fingers snatched the blade from the ground. Fear of theft tickled the back of my mind, but I could out run any human.

Taking care, he aimed and flung the blade. The flask was knocked over.

“Try again.” I suggested righting the flask and replacing the two silver coins.

“What’s the coins for?” a girl asked between coughs.

“The winner, but,” looking around me, I counted fifteen boys of various ages and four girls, “to make this fair, only girls may win the money. For this is far too easy for a boy to win.”

“Not fair,” an older boy said from the back.

“Well,” my finger tapped my lips, “if no girl makes the flask, and at least one of you boys does, then I’ll give each the boys one tronce. Fair?”

The children spoke among themselves, then rushed forward.

“All right, make sure every girl under the age of sixteen plays. None who have babies.” At these words a few of the boys ran off and I hoped they did so to bring more. “Each will be given two turns.”

Smiling, the four girls present lined up. I placed the dagger in the first girl’s hand. The garnet did not change.

She threw the blade and I was glad I chose the side of a building. Otherwise, her throw may have maimed someone.

Again she tried, but missed the flask. The other two girls had no better luck.

When the fourth girl took the blade, I stared unblinking so as not to miss the sign of the witch. The dagger was silent.

Five more girls rushed forward with the boys who had left earlier.

“Is this all? All the girls in your village?”

“Yes, sir.”

Witch trials or diseases must have almost eradicated the population of girls in this village. A count of their buildings estimated they should have at least forty girls between the requested ages.

One made the dagger into the flask, but almost knocked it over. The others gasped.

Holding up my hand, I declared the winner. But two more girls hadn’t touched the blade. They frowned disappointed.

“But, we may have more than one winner.” Removing the dagger from the flask, I handed it to the next girl in line. “For each girl who wins, I’ll pay her two silver coins.”

Both girls took their turns. None made the garnet change. I paid the two silver coins to the winner. Gathering the flask and blade I trudged through the crowd back to the inn.

The children pressed me for more games and money. Finally they turned away at my refusal.

“Fair game was played and won. Congratulate the winner, for luck may never shine on you if you grudge another’s good fortune.” They seemed to agree with this and left me in peace.

I watched them wander off into the sunset. The sun dipped down coloring the sky orange.

Inside the inn, men chortled. Their flasks brimmed with liquor. Cheeks were rosy as they gulped down the liquid, and banged the flasks down for more.

Not wanting an audience or stares, I bowed my head. Some of the laughter stopped as the men watched me. Smiled and nodded my head. A few scowled. Some turned away. I didn’t wait to see what they’d do or say, but bound up the stairs. It was time to leave this place.

After reaching my rented chambers, I shut the door behind me.

I wasted money and time in this village. But I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. My game would bring the children of each town to me.

Now was just a matter of time before I found the right one.

The witch the dagger would show. Just hoped I found her before my money and time disappeared.

Chapter Six

I gathered my bow and quiver. Adjusting them over my shoulder, I then donned my cloak. The dagger snug in my boot, the coin pouch in the other, and my sword strapped to my side. The metal flask cleaned and hidden inside my pack.

BOOK: The Garnet Dagger
3.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Action! by Carolyn Keene
Starfire by Charles Sheffield
Bridge of Mist and Fog by nikki broadwell
Tangled Vines by Bratt, Kay
Natural Order by Brian Francis
Saratoga Trunk by Edna Ferber
Skybreaker by Kenneth Oppel
The Poisoned Chalice by Michael Clynes