Chapter 8
“Put me down,” I whispered from between clenched teeth.
Vegard had one arm around my legs. If there was going to be a fight, he’d need all the arms he could get, including mine. I was still disoriented, but if Carnades had sent his personal guard goons after me, I was going to take some slices out of them before they got their hands on me. I still had the blades strapped to my forearms, and I wanted a chance to use them.
“Rolf, that’s Vegard! Are you blind, man?”
Uncle Ryn?
The Fortune wasn’t the only pirate ship anchored in Mid’s harbor. Phaelan’s dad, Commodore Ryn Benares, was visiting with three of his best ships. Uncle Ryn’s definition of “best” was his ships and crews that were best qualified for the most ruthless work. He was here to motivate Mid’s mages to find a way to free me of my link to the Saghred. As soon as that blessed event happened, he and his boys would be on their way. If the Conclave didn’t want pirates in their harbor and town, they’d better get to work on my problem. Mychael had given permission for Uncle Ryn to have his ships drop anchor in Mid’s harbor with the strict understanding that he was there as my concerned uncle, not as Commodore Benares.
I felt the Guardian’s shoulders relax, but only slightly. “Commodore?”
“Aye, Vegard,” came my uncle’s amused rumble from somewhere in front of us. “You’ve wandered into my new home away from home.”
“Put me down!” I didn’t bother with quiet.
“Let’s take it slow, ma’am,” the Guardian cautioned. “You’re going to be a bit unsteady on your feet.”
“I can stand.” Truth was I had no idea what I could do. Upside down wasn’t the best position to make that assessment.
Vegard carefully set me on my feet. As soon as he did, somebody spun the room in a big circle and I promptly landed on the floor. I put my hand over my eyes and just lay there. I couldn’t even see the room, and it still felt like the damned thing was spinning.
“Ooooo, not feeling so good.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” I dimly heard Vegard say. “The paladin had me get you out of there quick.”
Everything flooded back, making me even sicker. The blue demons, Carnades, the giant yellow demon I’d squashed, my dream, my possible marriage-and all of them were the Saghred’s fault.
I’d used the Saghred, but mostly the Saghred had used me. No wonder I wanted to toss my cookies. I also felt raw and exhausted and I had the worst headache of my life. The stone floor of wherever we were felt wonderful beyond belief against my flushed face.
A pair of massive black boots appeared in my line of vision.
“Hi, Uncle Ryn.” My voice was muffled from half of my face being smushed against the oh-so-delightfully-cool floor that I never wanted to leave.
“Afternoon, Spitfire.”
Spitfire. Uncle Ryn’s pet name for me. Also the name of a particularly ill-tempered breed of small dragon. Uncle Ryn had always meant it as a compliment, so I’d taken it the same way. I didn’t feel much like my namesake right now, and I’d have chuckled at the irony except I was trying really hard not to move. If I moved, the contents of my stomach were going to do likewise. That’s what my stomach was telling me, and I knew it wasn’t bluffing.
“Sorry for the less-than-hospitable greeting, Vegard,” Uncle Ryn was saying. “But the only chances I’m taking right now are at a card table. Rolf doesn’t know you, and you had my niece over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”
Swearing and sounds of a scuffle came from behind us. The scuffle concluded with three sharp punches followed by a quick succession of oofs and pained grunts.
“Sorry, Captain Benares, sir.” The man sounded like he was talking through a bloody lip and possibly some loose teeth. “We didn’t recognize you in the dark, and we’ve been ordered to-”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Stop everyone by any means.”
“Our apologies, sir.”
“The boys are a little on edge, son,” Uncle Ryn explained.
“Most of them never saw demons before.”
I slowly sat up, gingerly holding my head as motionless as I could. “They saw demons? What did they look like?”
“Like something that shouldn’t be here.”
“Blue or purple?” I hesitated, not really wanting to ask. “Or were they yellow?”
“None of the above. Red with horns and tails.”
I swore. Just what we didn’t need-variety.
Phaelan’s boots joined his dad’s in my line of vision. I hadn’t tried looking any higher than footwear. I thought it’d help my stomach to keep my eyes on the floor. Generally, floors didn’t move. That went well, so I tried looking up at my cousin and uncle, then ever so slowly over at Vegard.
“Okay, boys. Hit me with it. What happened?”
Phaelan grinned. “You did.”
I would have kicked him, but that meant I’d have to move. Phaelan knew that, the bastard. “I mean after that.”
“A couple of watchers got sick when they saw the pile of yellow… mush that used to be that demon, and Carnades started making completely unreasonable demands.” Phaelan’s grin grew wider. “Then that blue demon the paladin was questioning somehow managed to escape that metal circle thing that was keeping him-”
“Somehow managed?”
“The paladin glanced at the professor, the professor winked at the paladin, and next thing we all knew, that blue demon was free and hot on Carnades’s heels. The blue ones like him for some reason.”
“Can’t imagine what that would be,” I muttered. If I could ever show my face again without getting arrested, I owed Mychael and Sora Niabi a big thank-you.
“While Magus Silvanus was occupied, the paladin told me to get you out of there,” Vegard said. “The quickest way was you over my shoulder.” The Guardian winced in apology. “Sorry all that jostling around made you sick, ma’am.”
“It wasn’t you, Vegard. It was the rock.”
He went a little pale. “The Saghred?”
“That’s the one.”
Uncle Ryn squatted down next to me, and I still had to look up at him. Elves were usually tall and leanly muscled. Uncle Ryn was just big. He wore his dark hair short, his beard trimmed, and had a booming voice that’d carry clear up to a crow’s nest. He had a booming laugh to go with it and a sense of humor to match. He was somewhere around fifty, but he didn’t look it, and he sure as hell didn’t act like it. I was a firm believer in being happy doing your chosen work. If you had to make a living at something, you should enjoy doing it. Ryn Benares was still in his prime and basking in the benefits of his chosen calling-the most feared pirate in the seven kingdoms.
He took one of my hands in his and gently wrapped his other arm around my waist. “Let’s get you off the floor, Spitfire,” he rumbled softly.
“Careful.”
“That goes without saying. My shirt’s clean and I’d like it to stay that way.”
Uncle Ryn got me on my feet and I didn’t mess up his shirt. It was one of the first things to go right all day. I hoped it was a sign that things were going to improve, but I wasn’t about to place any bets.
“You steady enough?” he asked.
“Only one way to find out.”
Uncle Ryn slipped his arm from around my waist, but didn’t step back. I didn’t fall down or throw up. Two nice surprises.
“I’m good,” I told him. “Thank you.” I turned to Phaelan.
“So what happened after that demon went after Carnades?”
Phaelan just looked at me. “Raine, I’m a wanted man standing in the middle of city watch headquarters with a demon running amok. What do you think I did?”
I grinned. “Ran like hell.”
“Damn straight. But it wasn’t running. It was a tactical retreat.”
“Of course.”
“I tried to catch up with you and Vegard, but his legs are longer than mine. And with that crazed blond berserker look he’s got going, people got out of his way. Apparently I’m not scary enough right now.” He glared at Ryn’s men who’d tried to stop him at the door. “I’ll have to work on that.”