Book 6 Chapter 1

Joan cringed when she caught sight of the banner of the hold. “Ah damn it.”

“Joan?” Bauteut asked.

“This is going to be miserable,” Joan said with a soft sigh before shaking her head.

“Is something wrong?” one of the elves asked. A part of her wanted to ask his name, but elves could be just as much of a pain to get their names as fae.

“No, it’s fine,” Joan said before shaking her head. “It’s fine. Really.”

“So this is how our lives are ended, eh?” Zorn asked with a soft sigh.

“No,” Joan said. “It’s fine. Just… yeah. Corin. She’s fun.”

“Corin?” Bauteut asked. “Why?”

“She hates Neia,” Joan said. “Like, absolutely hates her. Families were feuding for a long time, pretty sure she started most of the rumors about her. At times she seemed almost desperate to prove that Neia wasn’t who she claimed to be.”

“So, now should we be worried?” Bauteut asked.

“Not really,” Joan said.

“Really?” Bauteut asked.

“Yeah,” Joan said. “Either the Chosen will be here soon enough and we’ll be fine or one of the Chosen died and we’re all going to be dead soon enough. It might be smarter for us to just ask for an execution than wait for the Inferno God to wake up.”

“Thalgren better not be dead, my sister would kill me,” Zorn said with a shudder.

“Did you say the Chosen?” their guard asked.

“Yes,” Joan said before giving another soft sigh. “I really wish I could do that spell of Andreas’. It’d be nice to have a conversation without worrying about people listening in on it.”

“You’re our prisoner,” the guard said indignantly. “How dare--”

“I came with you willingly,” Joan said, cutting him off. “And that’s because all of this is a mess. I just want to explain what we’re doing here and get this sorted out so we can move on. Granted, move on likely means more people trying to kill us, but hey. Do what you know, I guess. That’s a saying, right Bauteut?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure after spending enough time with you there’ll be a whole field of new sayings,” Bauteut said. “I’m sorry, sir. Usually by now my patient has been put to sleep to recover. It has been a very busy day, filled with… I’m not really sure what any of that was. And then someone trying to murder us for… actually, I’m not sure why. This is actually why it’s hard to truly explain. Joan here is just cranky.”

“I am not cranky!” Joan snapped.

Bauteut just looked at her and cocked an eye.

“Fine, I’m a little cranky,” Joan said. “Sorry.”

The healer just kept giving her a look.

“Okay, I’m very cranky,” Joan said. “I’m deeply apologetic for my rudeness. There, satisfied?”

“I think that’s about the best she does,” Bauteut said sheepishly. “I really do apologize for her.”

The elf looked between them for a moment before giving a small nod. “Very well. Do try to keep your little sister under control. You two may be young, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for such behavior once you meet with her highness. And do try to keep your tales of the Chosen to yourself. Most won’t appreciate mockery of them.”

Joan almost stumbled, barely catching herself in time. Mocking them? She was NOT mocking them. She opened her mouth to start snapping at him, but then stopped. Like it or not she was still a prisoner and until the Chosen arrived, she was likely to remain that way. Antagonizing her guards likely wasn’t the smartest decision either. She grudgingly closed her mouth and looked around the hold. One of the last remaining four holds, it--

She felt a knot in her stomach and like she might throw up. No. Not one of the last four. One of the last three. At least one had perished, melted away in the heat of the Inferno God. The poor people within trapped as the wood and their bodies melted away, their screams likely unheard and unheeded by--

“Joan? JOAN!” Bauteut yelled, her arms on her shoulders and lightly shaking her. “Joan, are you okay? Can someone get her something to drink? Joan? Is it your head?”

“What? No, no,” Joan said quickly. “It’s fine, really. I just had my mind wander for a moment. Was thinking of--”

“You’re so pale,” Bauteut said. “You almost fell over. This isn’t ‘mind wandering’.”

“It wasn’t a good memory,” Joan said softly.

“Is she sick?” one of the elves asked and Joan couldn’t help but notice how quickly all of their guards had moved away from her. Not that she could blame them.

“I’m fine,” Joan said. “Bauteut, am I sick?”

“Not that I can tell,” Bauteut said. “Are you sure you’re up for this? If you get really bad, then there’s no telling if you’ll be okay or--”

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“I’m fine,” Joan said once more. “It’s not like we have much choice, either. Let’s go meet Corin.”

“Fine,” Bauteut said, keeping a hand around her shoulders and trying to keep her steady.

Joan gave a sigh and closed her eyes for a moment. She did have a bit of a headache growing, but it wasn’t THAT headache at least. It was just stress. All she had to do was deal with the elves and hope she didn’t mess up too badly.

------

“That could have gone better,” Joan finally said, keeping her eyes on the ground.

“I’d hope so,” Bauteut said, the annoyance clear in her voice. “I don’t think it could have gone worse.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Zorn said. “I’m sure she could have done worse if she tried.”

“How?” Bauteut asked. “Kicking the woman after slapping her? Perhaps trying to stab her?”

“It was just a little slap,” Joan said. “I just couldn’t… you heard what she said about Neia.”

“No, I don’t deny it was quite harsh,” Bauteut said. “But maybe controlling your tongue a bit more would be advised next time? Not slapping the ruler of the area, perhaps? Are you sure you’re not Lord Hardwin’s daughter?”

“No, I got my parents killed, remember? Probably,” Joan said with a shrug.

“Joan,” Bauteut said. “Now isn’t the time for that.”

“Time is all we’ve got left until the Chosen arrive,” Joan said. She glanced around their prison. At the very least it was sizeable. Like everything else the elves used it was gorgeous, a prison of dimly glowing crystal woven into the earth itself. Had she not been to other worlds and seen the beauty and glory of architecture both possible and impossible, she would have been impressed. As it was, her stomach was tied in knots. “I’m sorry.”

Bauteut gave a soft sigh before, very gently, she reached out and put an arm over her shoulders. “We know. It’s going to be okay.”

“Neia’s good, she is,” Joan said softly. “Nothing Corin said about her is true. She’s not… she’s not a demon.”

“Who cares if she is?” Zorn asked. “Korgron’s a demon and she seems fine. What?” He pulled back from the pair of glares aimed at him.

“Being born a demon is entirely different from becoming one,” Joan said, unable to keep the anger out of her voice. “That transformation twists and alters a person. It changes who you are at the deepest levels. Being born like that is different, you’re still you. You weren’t something else beforehand. But this? Neia wouldn’t change herself. Not unless… she wouldn’t. These accusations are always leveled on her. Every time. That’s why I’m here. That’s why we’re here.”

“Well, for now it’s not like there’s much we can do,” Bauteut said softly. “What would you say are the chances of us being let go anytime soon?”

Joan gave a soft sigh and shook her head. “Me? Never. Corin hates Neia. You two? Maybe. But…”

“But what?” Bauteut asked.

“If Neia is here, if she truly is imprisoned? I need to find her,” Joan said.

“Right, and we’re going to do that how?” Bauteut asked.

“Zorn?” Joan asked.

“They took my rings,” Zorn said. “You?”

“All of my equipment was taken,” Joan said before glancing to her left hand. “Well…”

“You’re not using the key,” Bauteut said. “It almost killed you last time and there’s no Chosen here to help.”

“I mean, if the defenses are magical in nature then--”

“No,” Bauteut said. “What’s plan B?”

“Ummmm…” Joan said, struggling to think of something. “I guess we can wait?”

“Wait?” Bauteut asked. “After what you said, are you sure they won’t try to execute us?”

“Of course not,” Joan said. “Like it or not, I am supposedly the daughter of a Chosen. Zorn is the brother-in-law of another one and you’re kind of like Searle’s personal healer. Sorta. They’ll at least check in on our story first.”

“And if the Chosen aren’t…”

“Then the world is doomed anyway and who cares?” Joan said with a shrug before leaning into Bauteut. “I’m sorry. I just messed everything up, didn’t I?”

“No. You didn’t,” Bauteut said with a soft sigh of her own. “I should have said something or done something. Especially when I saw how mad you were getting. I just…”

“Neia isn’t any of those things,” Joan whispered softly. “Sure, she’s a bit… tactless at times. Excessive. She’s more than happy to revel in her desires. But she’s also really kind, sweet. No matter what terrible things people say about her, she just accepts it. She… she always acts as if she somehow deserves it. As if any of it is her fault. She never looks down on others even when they deserve it. She’s more than willing to put herself at risk for them. Yet they talk down as if she’s some kind of monster. The things Corin said, I just…”

“I thought Neia was supposed to be the ruler of one of the houses?” Zorn asked.

“She is,” Joan said. “Was. I don’t know. If she’s imprisoned here, though? I just… I guess there’s three now. I don’t know who replaced her. But it doesn’t matter. We’ll clear all of this up, somehow.”

“Joan, I think you should get some rest,” Bauteut said in a soft, soothing tone. “We all should. Are you sure we’ll be safe?”

“For now,” Joan said. “At least until the Chosen get here.”

“And then?” Bauteut asked.

“Then we’ll find Neia even if we have to fight our way to her,” Joan said softly. “I don’t care who Corin thinks she is. Even if the other houses support her now. I won’t let her stop us from saving the world.” She closed her eyes and nestled just a little more against Bauteut’s side. “But hey, who knows? If any of the Chosen died, I’ll at least have no choice but to take a break. After all, it’s not like there will be anything else I can do but wait for death.”

“Joan,” Bauteut said in a soft, soothing tone. “Please stop saying things like that. They’ll be fine.”

“I know they will. They have to be,” Joan said softly, wishing she could make herself truly believe it. “I am sorry I got all of you into trouble with me. But… can I be honest?”

“What?” Bauteut asked.

“It felt really, really good to slap Corin. I cannot tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Joan said with a small smile.

“Yeah, I kind of wanted to as well,” Bauteut said with a light chuckle.

“I imagine she gets that reaction a lot,” Zorn said. “But please try not to slap any other rulers, okay?”

“No promises,” Joan said sheepishly.

“And here I thought the Chosen would be the biggest threats to my life,” Zorn said with a light chuckle. “At least this isn’t boring.”

“Don’t worry, it will be,” Joan said softly. “You know what, though?”

“What?” Bauteut asked.

“If I had to be imprisoned, I’m happy it’s at least with people I can trust,” Joan said gently.