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Authors: Melissa Myers

Tags: #magic, #wizards, #witches, #dragons, #high lords

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BOOK: The Crow King's Wife
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Faramir stood in the shadows of the tunnel
watching the panel as it slowly slid back into place. The shadows
deepened to near pitch darkness and Remedy silently back stepped
several feet from her. He had darkvision, but it wasn’t the best. A
shifter would have been able to see in these conditions as clearly
as if it were a bright moonlit night. He could barely make out
Faramir’s form and the stone walls, and all details were completely
obscured. He couldn’t even tell what expression she had on her
face. He listened intently as the faint scuff of her boot sounded
on the floor. She was walking at a quick pace and to his vast
relief it was away from him. Had she chosen to walk toward him
there was no way he could have avoided brushing against her, the
tunnel was simply too narrow.

With grim determination he fell into step and
tried to keep up with her as best he could. Once again he found
himself wanting to trade places with Vaze. Vaze could see in pitch
black better than even a Shifter. Which brought another interesting
point to mind…Faramir shouldn’t be able to see clearly in darkness
either. With the pace she was setting she could either see
perfectly, or she had been this way so many times it was familiar.
Either way it was unsettling. Faramir was a powerful member of the
Fionaveir council and Symphony’s chief advisor. There was no reason
someone in her position should have been skulking through tunnels.
If it was spying on the ranks of the Fionavier than she should have
had an underling she could trust enough to do the job for her.

They walked for what seemed an eternity,
though Remedy knew it was likely closer to half an hour before
Faramir stopped once more. He shuffled silently to a stop and shook
his head in disgust with himself. He had nearly walked into her
back before he realized she was no longer moving. He could barely
make out the outline of her hand as she raised it to a wall and
once more a panel slid open. Dim light flooded the tunnel and once
more he could see Faramir’s face clearly. She had a thoughtful
expression on her face as she stepped from the tunnel and he
followed briskly after her. He had no desire to be locked away in
her tunnels, no matter how useful it might be to explore the extent
of them. He was more interested in her agenda than exploring at
this point.

The room he emerged into was a cramped one. A
small bed, barely more than a pallet sat against one wall with a
table and two chairs a few feet away. The walls were rough stone
without the glossy finish the rest of the palace had with no sign
of any door beyond the one they had entered through.

The most interesting feature was the woman
seated at the table however and the expression of pure malice she
had on her delicate face as she regarded Faramir. Her hair was long
and chestnut brown and her skin was swarthy despite her obvious
lack of sun. The dress she wore was simple and from the looks of it
could use a good washing. Remedy gazed around the small room and
back to the woman and wondered how long Faramir had kept her
prisoner here, or who she was for that matter. He had been in the
business of knowing all of the power players of Sanctuary during
his time on the Fionaveir council, and this wasn’t someone he
recognized.

“Good morning Azashy how are you today?”
Faramir’s voice was overly pleasant as she spoke and the woman’s
glare intensified in response.

“May you burn in the Darklands while the
crows feast on your corpse Myth.” Azashy responded coldly.

Remedy’s breath caught at her words and he
felt himself pale as he regarded Faramir silently once more.
Myth
, that explained so much of what he had seen, but he
didn’t understand how it was possible. His throat tightened at the
thought of who he was truly stalking and he swallowed heavily.
Faramir had made him nervous, Myth terrified him. Myth was a
Changeling and had been alive for countless centuries. There was no
telling what a creature like that was capable of or what power she
possessed.

“Not likely Azashy sorry to disappoint you.”
Faramir responded casually as she settled into the chair across
from the woman. “I need information Azashy and you are going to
provide it.”

Azashy shook her head slowly and turned her
eyes away from Faramir to settle her gaze on the grey stone
wall.

“Do we really have to go through this every
time I visit Azashy?” Faramir sighed with annoyance. She leaned
forward on the table and crossed her arms as she stared at her
prisoner. “You know I don’t like hurting you or those you care for,
but I’m limited on my patience today. I need information and I warn
you if you lie to me again as you did last time I will make it a
lasting pain that you will never forget.”

“Do what you will Myth, I will not help you
destroy the world any further. You are evil!” Azashy snapped and
shook her head quickly, though it was obvious to Remedy that the
woman was scared. It was a bluff she was showing and in the end he
knew she would cave to Myth’s demands. His heart went out to her
and he silently promised to help her when he could, but for the
moment he didn’t dare interfere. Not only did he need to know what
information Faramir was after, he didn’t want to be forced to fight
her. He wasn’t sure he could win.

“How many fingers do you require for your
spell casting Azashy?” Faramir asked nonchalantly. She smiled as
the other woman paled slightly and nodded her head slowly. “A wise
person would say ten, but that would be a lie. I know you don’t
require all ten.” Faramir paused and pulled a dagger from her belt
then laid it quietly on the table between them. “You don’t require
two eyes, two ears, or a nose for spellcasting either.” Faramir
continued casually as she raised an eyebrow at Azashy who looked on
the brink of tears.

She must be very young Remedy realized as he
studied Faramir’s captive closer. She was Elder Blood he was sure
of it, but he couldn’t decide what house she must be from, or why
someone as old as Myth would require her to do the spellcasting.
From what he had seen of Myth in the past few days the woman should
be able to manage any casting herself.

“It will be so difficult to make it in the
world beyond without your beauty. You could of course hide your
disfigurements with magic, but that could be dispelled. You could
have it healed too of course, but then healers ask questions about
such wounds and what would you say? That you were a prisoner of war
perhaps, but then they would want details that you wouldn’t have,
wouldn’t they?” Faramir continued as she spun the dagger in a slow
circle on the table.

“What do you want to know?” Azashy gasped her
eyes riveted on the dagger. Her expression was equal parts fear and
self-loathing.

“I want to know all sorts of things, but for
now we will suffice with just a few minor details. Sovaesh is no
longer a viable blade at my disposal, and Hemlock has his own
agenda, but we will get to that. Tell me who is a knife that I can
trust to send against my enemies?” Faramir settled back into her
chair without bothering to move the dagger out of Azashy’s reach.
Apparently she saw no threat in her prisoner at all.

Azashy mumbled a few words under her breath
and her eyes grew distant. Her head lolled to one side for several
breaths before her lips began to move again. “Niamh of the
Nightblades, heartless and nearly as skilled as the Master she
serves.” Her voice was distant and seemed to echo as if composed of
several voices rather than just her own.

“How well guarded is Elijah Arovan?” Faramir
asked without pausing to consider the answer she had been given on
her first question.

“He is surrounded by those that are loyal and
love him. Troyelle is at his beckon call with swords ready to
defend as well as the Blackwolf who always remains nearby his side.
To reach Elijah you must defeat the Stormlord as well as the High
Lord of Glis.” Azashy answered without hesitation in the same eerie
voice.

“What is the next step that Jala Merrodin
will take?” Faramir pressed once more without pause.

“She will bind the Blights to her side as
allies and take that power from your hands.” Azashy’s voice was
growing strained and her eyes were rolling back in her head as she
spoke.

“How?” Faramir demanded. If she noticed the
woman’s discomfort she showed no signs and seemed intent on
gathering as much information as she possibly could.

“An envoy has carried her message of peace
and has been given a task in response. When his task is complete
the Blights will be hers.” Azashy’s voice was hoarse and she
appeared to be trembling. Remedy watched in silence as a bead of
sweat trickled down the woman’s face. He wasn’t sure what magic she
was using for her information, but it wasn’t scrying and it seemed
too precise to be divination.

“Who is her envoy? What task?” Faramir
growled and leaned forward on the table once more her eyes intent
on Azashy.

“Shade…Morcaillo…he…must…” Azashy’s voice
faltered with each word and she gave a shudder as she sagged
forward in her chair. Her breathing was labored and she was
shaking. Slowly a choking laugh began to rise from her and she
shakily lifted her head to meet Myth’s gaze. “I’m afraid you will
have to wait for that information Myth. You have pushed me too far
today. Were conditions different I could offer you more, but you
are too intent on keeping me weakened so you must deal with the
consequences.” Her voice was a bare whisper, but it was filled with
bitter amusement.

“Worthless bitch.” Faramir growled as she
rose from her chair and snatched the dagger from the table. With
another glare at Azashy she stormed across the room toward the
hidden panel.

“Irony that it is your son that will undo
you.” Azashy gasped as the panel slid open.

“No one will undo me Azashy. This world will
burn and I will be free of this prison. I promise you that.”
Faramir hissed as she disappeared through the tunnel.

Remedy watched her go, but remained where he
was as the panel slid shut behind her. It was possible that the
wall wouldn’t open for anyone aside from Myth, but he was curious
about Azashy. She was obviously an unwilling ally, and it was
possible that very thing made her the only one in the palace he
could trust to help him. It would require watching her though, and
learning more of her before he trusted her enough to reveal
himself. He just had to pray he had the time to spare for it.
Things in the world beyond were falling far faster than he liked,
and he wasn’t sure there was still time to save anything.

Chapter 4

 

Merro

 

 

“Are you sure you want to sell her?” Valor
asked quietly as he leaned against the paddock gate and watched the
bay mare within. He was dressed simply today in light linen
trousers and a thin work shirt. A stranger approaching would never
guess he was the second most powerful person in Merro by the way he
looked. A stem of grass hung out of one corner of his mouth, and
his attention seemed entirely devoted to the mare, as if nothing
beyond the stable yard was a concern of his.

Zoelyn shifted beside him and lowered her
chin to rest on the rail of the fence. She didn’t really want to
sell the mare, but the horse would have a good home with Valor and
she knew it. He was Arovan, and Arovan prized their horses. If she
had any hope of making it to Delvay she would need the money, and
she could no longer stand to remain in Merro. “I know you will care
for her well Valor.” She sighed and nodded with obvious hesitation.
“So yes she is for sale if you want her.”

Valor glanced down at her with a questioning
look in his dark blue eyes and nodded in return. “I’d be a fool to
turn aside the chance to buy her. She is obviously from good lines
even if I don’t know her pedigree. I’d like to know what you want
the money for though. We provide your room and board as well as
clothes. If there is something else that you require just say the
word and it will be given without you having to sell the one thing
you can truly call your own.” His voice was gentle and her chest
tightened in response

They had all been so kind to her, and the
thought of leaving some of them was as painful as a fresh wound,
but this wasn’t her place. Her home was in Delvay and with every
memory that returned she became more certain that she should be
there rather than in Merro.
And Seth isn’t in Delvay
. A
small voice inside her whispered as her eyes rose to scan the
surrounding sky for any sign of black feathers. It wasn’t that she
hated Seth, but the memory of him was painful. She had trusted him
fully and considered him a friend, and he had turned on her. The
anger he had shown the last time she had seen him had been
terrifying, and she had no desire to be near him again.

“I need the money for travel.” Zoelyn
answered quietly. She hadn’t told anyone aside from Dray of her
plans to leave yet, and she knew the Blight had kept her secret. By
Valor’s expression it was the last thing he had expected her to
say, but he covered his shocked expression quickly. “I’m going to
Delvay.” She added and swallowed heavily as her throat tightened.
There was no way she could say goodbye to Jala or Valor without
tears and she knew it.

Valor nodded and his gaze moved past her to
rest on Jala who was still busy trying to get the portal stones
perfect. It was obvious he was wondering if Jala knew and simply
hadn’t told him yet.

Zoelyn followed his gaze and watched Jala for
several moments before staring down at the ground. “I meant to tell
you both before now, but you are both always so busy. I don’t think
Jala ever truly rests. Every time I try to find time to speak with
her she is busy at three or more tasks and contemplating
another.”

“She can’t rest, and neither can I. When we
stop we have time to think, and neither of us can bear that. She
dwells on her regrets, and I dwell on guilt. So we push ourselves
to exhaustion and pray that one day our hearts will mend and we can
find peace.” Valor said softly as he turned to watch the mare once
more. “I’m not Finn and I never will be. I know she loves me, I
have no doubts of that, but it’s something that takes time. Jala
never had a chance to grieve, and she still isn’t allowing herself
too. I wish I could help her with it, but I can’t. I’m the bastard
that failed to save him and fell in love with his Widow while doing
so.”

BOOK: The Crow King's Wife
13.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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