Rise (War Witch Book 1) (82 page)

The trash pile shivered. Rayne frowned at him. He shivered again. Throwing her hands up, she waved Chara to follow and marched out the back door. Chara thought about reminding her she was naked as a jaybird, then let it go. Odds were, the Half Elf wouldn't care anyway.

"My big iron!" Rayne declared pointing at an anvil.

"That wasn't there last time I was here," the other woman said.

"Sure it was, it was just over there," the Spellweaver replied, waving her hand in a couple of different, yet equally vague directions. "Now, hit it with the edge of the blade. Throw everything you've got into it, too. Both hands, and swing for all your worth."

Chara frowned. "Why am I doing that?"

"Because I told you to!" Rayne yelled. "Do you trust me or not?"

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "I do. Completely."

"And you call me crazy," the little Half Elf muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing! Swing away, my sweet tart!"

"Stop calling me treats," Chara grumbled.

"My omelet?" Rayne offered.

"Yeah, on second thought, stay with the treats."

"Treats and teats!" Rayne whooped.

Shaking her head and laughing at the Spellweaver, Chara hefted the blade, grasping it firmly. She knew this was going to hurt, but it was what Rayne wanted her to do, so she'd do it. Pulling up, over her shoulder, she swung as hard as she could.

The sword sliced through the anvil like it was warm butter. Chara gaped as the blade hit the cobblestones and buried itself in them, making her yank it free. Stunned, she checked the edge, finding not a single nick, or even a scratch in it.

"Whoa," she breathed.

"The last trellis is indestructibility. That sword will never lose its edge, or be damaged in any way. Plus, that's Heavensteel, the hardest substance in any world," Rayne said quietly. "My Ascended gave it to me last year, so I could forge a sword for a woman named Collette Reisengard, a Blessed of Ramor. I know you've heard of her. She was your friend Ramora's tutor."

Chara blinked. "No, she's never mentioned her."

"Draco killed her," Rayne said flatly.

She may as well have hit the young woman in the chest with a hammer. "Why wouldn't she tell me that?"

Shrugged, Rayne pushed her goggles up. "From what my Ascended said, it was because she was like a second mother to Ramora. No doubt, she's trying to find a way to deal with the loss. I think it right you have that sword, though, as she means so much to you. Let it be your guide when the world is dark, and you're uncertain what to do."

Chara cradled the blade carefully. "Thank you for this, Rayne. I can't say what it means to me."

"I know," the other woman nodded. "You don't have to, no more than you need thank me. You're my friend, Chara. I know how difficult that is, with me being so erratic all the time. It means a lot to me you came here yesterday when you were in trouble and scared. Even more that you trust me as much as you do. Please, forgive me being so crazy. I need to be that way with you for a while. You'll understand one day."

Nodding slowly, Chara said, "I'll trust you on that, too."

"Good," Rayne smiled, looking sad before pulling the goggles back down. "Let's go get the last doohickey!"

"Doohickey?" Chara muttered as the Half Elf darted back into the shop.

Following her in, Chara blinked a few times to make her eyes adjust to the change in light as Rayne scrambled around the room, tossing things over her shoulder, muttering incoherently. Standing there watching her, the young woman smiled, finding her affectation oddly endearing.

"Got it!" Rayne yelped, dragging a sheath from the rubble and waving Chara over. "This is a new design, by me, just for that sword. I lost it for a while, but it's okay, cause I found it. Now, put the sword down and hold out your arms."

Setting the blade on the table, Chara did as she was told. Rayne looped a leather strap over her left arm, pulled it up over her shoulder before shoving her arm down and repeating it with the right arm, pausing to pull the straps snug, leaving the sheath hanging straight down the middle of her back. Then, she snuggled up against the taller woman, reaching around to clip the end of the sheath to her gun belt.

Without thinking, Chara put her arms around the Half Elf, making her leap back. Startled, Chara bit her lip, realizing she shouldn't have done that.

"Sorry, I didn't think," she said quickly.

"I know," Rayne nodded. "It's fine. Forget it. Put your new toy away."

Picking up the sword, she guided it carefully into the sheath, finding it easier than she'd expected. The hilt rested behind her head, making it easy to grab, but out of the way. She made an impressed face.

"Not bad."

"I know, right?" Rayne giggled. "It doesn't block your peripheral vision at all, regardless of if you're right or left handed. Plus, the sheath is enchanted, so the sword goes right in, like Nerec on a desperate woman, and yes, I went there, take it with a smile, cause you earned it."

Chara made herself smile. "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Penis," Rayne shuddered. "I just don't get the appeal."

"So, it wasn't me being agile, it was the enchantment?" Chara asked, steering the conversation away.

Rayne nodded. "Plus, when you pull it, it makes the sword intangible for about three seconds, so even if you, say, have a coat on, it'll be easy to pull."

With that, she finally shrugged out of the Ogre's coat and tossed it to her. Trying not to take in the Half Elf's appealing body openly, Chara slipped the coat on and adjusted the collar, finding the sword didn't get in the way at all. Seeing Rayne nod eagerly, she grabbed the hilt and pulled, finding the sword passed through the sheath and coat easily.

"You've really outdone yourself on all this, Rayne," she said, returning it. "I'm really impressed."

"Of course you are," the Spellweaver sighed, resting a hand on her hip. "I'm just that awesome."

Chara laughed. "You really are."

Rayne scowled. "Stop flirting. We aren't done yet. One last thing to tend to."

"What's that?"

The Half Elf was on her in a blink, grasping her by the head. Chara saw a bright flash of light that stunned her, making her reel, grabbing her head as it throbbed. Rayne danced around the room as the other woman collected herself.

"What the Hells was that?" she snapped.

"The last thing," Rayne sang at her.

Finally annoyed with her antics, Chara started to step forward, then stopped, a look of amazement coming over her face. "Rayne. I know how to use a sword."

"Yup," she said, whirling her hips. "I put it in your head. It isn't master classes or anything, but it does cover all the basics. Figure you could use a jump start, what with you being behind the rest of the class."

"This is unreal," Chara said slowly, touching her head. "How long does it last?"

"Permanently, goofy," the Half Elf laughed. "Or till you surpass the knowledge it gives. Whichever comes first."

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Chara crossed the small room and grabbed the little Half Elf up in a tight hug, whispering her thanks. Rayne stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed, holding her back, letting her know she was welcome.

"You really are the only thing," Chara said, tears in her eyes at the amazing gifts the Spellweaver had given her. "The absolute only thing, in my whole life, that makes any kind of sense right now."

"You got some big problems, then," Rayne snickered, then kissed her cheek.

"I really do, don't I?" Chara laughed.

"It's okay," the Spellweaver said, holding her tighter. "You'll get through it. You're stronger than you know, my would-be angel. Trust in that, in me, when you've got nothing else."

"I will, I promise," Chara swore.

Pulling from her, Rayne nodded. "Now, scram. Take that coat back. Go find your friends, and lay down the law."

"Yes, ma'am," Chara grinned.

"Leave me alone for a few days, too," the Half Elf muttered. "I need some sleep."

"Promise," she nodded, holding out a hand.

Rayne stared at for a moment, then took it, squeezing gently. "Give 'em Hells."

"You know it."

Rayne watched her go, wishing she would stay. She couldn't, though, and she knew it. When Chara had fallen asleep in the tub, Rayne had held her, patching her devastated aura back together. As she had, she saw what Rakiss was trying to do.

It was horrific, cruel, and beyond unfair. Still, there was a bright spot, a single, small light in the darkness that Chara was running towards. Altimar, in her infinite charity and grace, had seen fit to make certain of it. The prayer a broken little Half Elf had whispered out past a torrent of tears as she lay battered and bruised in an ally would finally be granted, just as the Goddess of Love had sworn.

One day, Chara would come back to her, the other half of her soul, as her angel.

Rayne prayed she survived.

STOPPING OFF AT THE INN
Mastiff told her about, Chara planned on returning the coat, like she'd promised. The man at the front desk, however, hadn't looked pleased to be handling it. Not that she cared, no more than she did the thinly veiled look of disgust he gave her. At his sniff of condescension, she'd offered to return it herself, if he would tell her what room the Ogre was in. He had informed her they did not give out that information, getting a scowl from her.

"Little mouse," the heavy rumble of the Ogre's voice called, cutting them both off.

Turning, she saw Mastiff seated at one of the tables in the common room, a pipe in one hand, the morning news in the other. Smiling, she'd snatched the coat back from the innkeeper and swaggered away, making sure he got the message that she didn't need his help.

Mastiff had grinned at her step, so different from the one he'd seen the day before. Perhaps this time, things would be different. Maybe this one would thrive. He really didn't want to kill her.

"Your coat, kind sir," she said, dropping it over the back of his chair.

"My thanks, good lady," he replied with a smile.

"It may smell of naked Half Elf," she warned.

Mastiff cocked an eyebrow. "Man?"

"Woman."

He gave her a sly grin. "You do get around."

Without a thought, she slapped him in the back of the head. "Behave yourself."

"Am I wrong?" he inquired with a smirk.

"Yes," she shorted. "But only cause she said no."

Mastiff chuckled. "I'll have it cleaned, all the same. Just in case."

Falling into the chair by him, she considered what she wanted to say next for a moment, arms resting on her knees. "I know I said thanks yesterday, but I feel like I should say it again. You gave me just the shake I needed, I think, and I appreciate it."

"Just being a decent person," he replied with a kind smile. "I can't help but notice you have a new accessory. I take it you're ready to pursue the life of a warrior now?"

She nodded slowly. "I am. I'll probably get killed, sooner rather than later, but at least I'll be doing something I believe is right."

"That's all any of us can do, little mouse," he told her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"My boyfriend," she started slowly. "Or, maybe my ex-boyfriend now, I'm not sure. What should I say to him?"

"About what?" Mastiff asked.

"You know what."

He nodded. "That, I'm afraid, is up to you. If you're asking what I would do, well, it's been a long time since I had to worry over such things. That said, here is what I do know, and you can take it or leave it as you please. The life of a warrior is a hard one, little mouse. There are times where you do what you must, be it in battle, or to stay sane afterward. These things, they are for you, and concern no one else. Whether you share them or not, is your choice."

"Was that a long-winded way of saying just don't say anything?" she asked.

"Pretty much," he grinned. "If he returns to you, and you wish to stay with him, then say nothing, forget it happened, and move on. If you do tell him, while that is the more open and honest path, you should be prepared for the consequence that he will likely not be accepting of it. Regardless, this is your life to live, and you must live it. You cannot worry over how every choice you make affects every person around you, or you will stand still, and never move at all."

She nodded slowly. "How about you? Ever been in this kind of spot before?"

"Ogres are not like humans, little mouse," he chuckled. "We don't waste our time with jealousy over a casual fuck. If there's anger at it, there's usually bloodshed over it, and the matter is then settled."

She grinned at that. "Maybe I should've been born an Ogre. Sounds more my speed."

"It rather does, doesn't it?" he laughed.

"Or an Elf," she added with a thoughtful look. "They seem pretty laid back on the social stuff."

"Some," he told her in a tone that spoke volumes of his opinion on that. "Others, well, the niceties of polite society are all they think of."

"Really?" she asked. "I've only met a couple, and they were pretty easy-going."

"It depend on the House," he shrugged. "And the family. Elven social order is a complex thing."

"Do you have a family?" she asked after a moment.

He shook his head slowly. "Not anymore, little mouse. Once, I did. A wife, three daughters, and two grandchildren, just infants when they were taken from me."

"Can I ask about it?"

"Not right now," he told her with a weary smile. "Perhaps if we meet again and I see you've grown into a fine warrior, I will share my sadness with you. For now, I think you carry enough, and need not try to shoulder mine as well."

She gave a nod as she stood, stooping to kiss his cheek. "You really are a good man."

"Thank you, little mouse," he nodded. "Be well."

"You too," she said as she started to leave, pausing to turn and tell him, "By the way, that's a really nice coat."

"It is, isn't it?" he smirked. "Looked rather fetching on you, too."

"You think?" she asked with a grin.