Facets of Power, page 10
part #3 of The Dragon Portal Series
Crystal-Beard waggled his eyebrows at Sabine. “Quite a few markings on yer skin fer such a little girl. Why don’t you give us a peek to see how far they go under that skirt, eh?” He grabbed his crotch. “Maybe I’ll give you a reward and then let you braid another crystal into my hair.”
Sabine stilled, a white-hot fury engulfing her at the insult. Braiding hair among the Fae was only performed by lesser Fae who needed to absorb magic from their more powerful counterparts. The idea of this stranger suggesting she would braid his hair was the equivalent of calling her a goblin whore.
Bane roared, and even with his wrists bound, he managed to slam the dwarf into the ground. He ripped away the dwarf’s axe and shoved it against Crystal-Beard’s neck. “You are addressing Queen Sabin’theoria of the Unseelie. You will show respect, worm.”
Sabine stepped around Bane and approached the man on the ground. She withdrew a knife, leaned over him, and snipped one of the crystals off his beard. She held it up to the light, pretended to admire it, and flicked it away. A hushed gasp went through the group.
Sabine tilted her knife to catch the light and warned, “Make such an offer again, and I’ll ensure you don’t have any hair left to braid.”
Several of the dwarves sucked in air. A dwarf’s beard was indicative of their placement among their cultural hierarchy, similar to the way her markings indicated she was a member of the royal family. The fact that he’d woven crystals into his beard was surely a sign he had a high social standing within Razadon.
She waved her hand, and Bane released the dwarf.
He climbed to his feet and stroked what remained of his beard. “Our condolences, daughter of Mali’theoria, but we’ve got something of a problem with you being here.”
Sabine arched her brow but didn’t respond. He’d made it a point not to call her by her title.
Crystal-Beard tapped his hand on his great-axe, the gesture not overly friendly. “Faerie sent word you’ve been exiled. Looks like the Unseelie throne is controlled by yer brother, Rhys’Ellesar.”
Sabine narrowed her eyes, trying to rein in her temper. Beside her, Bane’s entire body vibrated with anger. She held up her hand in a command for him to hold.
“Since when do the dwarves claim to know the inner workings of Faerie and her politics?” Sabine demanded, glaring at him in challenge. “I will address these claims only to your council, and not to underlings who run to see who’s knocking at your front door.”
Crystal-Beard stared at her for a long time and then burst into laughter. The effect was instantaneous, and the other dwarves lowered their weapons and began to chuckle.
He gave her a flourished bow and grinned. “The name’s Thetar Opalmaker. We don’t have much tolerance for those Seelie pretenders, but I was curious whether you had the same mettle as yer mum.”
Determined to keep her bearing despite the annoying dwarf’s provocation, Sabine inclined her head and said, “Well met, Thetar. These are my companions, Bane’umbra, son of Kal’thorz, Captain Malek Rish’dan of Obsidian’s Storm, Rika, the Seer of Karga, and the pixie Blossom.”
Thetar tensed, staring at Bane with unease. “We’ve heard of the demon assassin, Your Highness. Interesting choice in companions, but I’m a bit unclear why you’ve brought one of the exiled demon princes to our city.”
Bane snorted. “The demons don’t recognize inherited rule like the Fae, dwarf. Like your people, we fight for what we’re due and step over the bodies in our way.”
Thetar smirked. “Aye, but yer daddy is ruling the underworld all the same. Heard yer brother’s back underground, sentenced to the fighting pits for causing some bit of trouble down there. Wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t last longer than another week or two.”
Sabine forced her body to stay relaxed, but inwardly, her heart was pounding. Thetar could only be referring to Dax. Without her being close to cement his ties to the surface, he would have been forced back underground. Something must have happened if Balkin, her Beastman protector, hadn’t been able to keep him out of the underworld.
“Bane is my sworn protector, and he is here at my direction,” Sabine said, wanting to curtain the discussion. There were too many prying eyes, and Sabine needed time to gather information.
The crowd had been talking in low whispers during the exchange, but the cadence of their voices changed slightly. The group fanned outward, making way for a stout woman wearing a headdress of gold and glowing crystals. Her blonde hair was parted in the center and hung nearly to her waist in two long thick braids, strewn with golden ribbons and a myriad of crystals. Tiny bells had been attached to the ends of the ribbons, and they jingled as she walked.
“Such nonsense to call me all the way down here simply because Badac lost his head,” the woman said, elbowing her way through the group. When someone didn’t move out of her way fast enough, she kicked out hard. The dwarf in her way stumbled backward, his eyes widening at the woman’s derisive look.
She put her hands on her hips and said, “All of you who don’t have business here, get back to work. If anyone remains behind, I’ll assume you want to be cleaning up cave troll dung for the next week. Now go!”
The crowd quickly dissipated. Several people stopped to help those with injuries hobble away, leaving only a few curious stragglers behind who started cleaning up broken stones and tiles that had been damaged during the fight.
The newcomer swept her gaze over Bane and Malek before her eyes fell on Sabine. “Well, well. A Royal Fae. Don’t that beat all. And a woman at that. Last thing we need are more knuckleheads intent on waving their sticks at each other. I’m sure Thetar’s been making a right ass out of himself.” She gestured to herself. “The name’s Astrid Onyxborn, but most simply call me Astrid. And you are?”
“Sabin’theoria of the Unseelie,” Sabine said, electing to forgo her formal titles in lieu of the woman’s more familiar greeting. “My friends call me Sabine.”
A crafty smile crept over Astrid’s face, and she chuckled. “Interesting. Didn’t think most Fae yanked the stick out of their asses long enough to make a simple introduction. Yer mum was a bit of a firecracker too.”
Sabine stared at her in surprise. “The Astrid? Councilwoman on behalf of the Powerbroker Guild?”
Astrid laughed, a big booming noise that shook the headdress she wore and made the gems dance in the light. “Ah, I see yer mum told you about me. Shame about her death. I was hoping to collect a pretty new power crystal after our next game of taspern. Woman was a shark with magic but had the gods-worst luck at cards.” She arched her brow. “Don’t suppose you play?”
Thetar and the dwarven guards who had escorted them into the city had become eerily quiet. Bane had also gone still, a warning in his amber eyes. Sabine tilted her head to regard Astrid, deciding the woman was testing her.
From what Sabine could recall from her mother’s description, Astrid was a shrewd and calculating woman. Almost everyone knew Sabine’s mother had been murdered, and Astrid’s callous remark set Sabine even more on guard. Her mother didn’t have many friends, but she’d considered Astrid to be one of them.
“I haven’t played that particular game, but I’ve proven to be a quick study,” Sabine said with a disarming smile. “As my mother’s sole heir, she left me with a number of her gifts—both good and bad. Perhaps we’ll see if I inherited her skill at games of chance.”
Astrid cackled in delight and slapped her thigh. “Gifts, eh? I heard about some of those gifts. One of them appears to be camped right outside our main gate. Too bad such gifts can’t be returned when the packaging doesn’t meet yer expectations. Maybe you should visit our market while yer here and shop for a particularly sharp ribbon cutter? I've found it to be an easy way to eliminate such nastiness.”
“Indeed,” Sabine agreed with a smile. “If you’d like to join me while I browse Razadon’s wares in search of such a tool, we can also discuss my potential for losing at cards. Your headdress would be even more astounding with another crystal to adorn it.”
“Aye. You’ll do, girlie. You’ll do.” Astrid grinned, showing her bright white teeth. “Well then, since you’ve decided to come to Razadon to claim yer proper place, we’ll let you head on to the Faerie embassy. Dagmar is yer steward, and she’s a right good girl. Kin on my mum’s side somewhere. Or maybe it was half-aunt’s cousin? Could even have been one of our oath-bound servants.”
Astrid waved her hand as though it didn’t matter, but her eyes fell briefly on Bane before turning back toward Sabine. “Kin’s kin, blood or not. No one knows that better than the Fae, eh?”
“I’m so glad you agree,” Sabine said and tilted her head in acknowledgment of Astrid’s unspoken words. The only way to keep Bane safe would be to claim him publicly as hers.
Turning back toward the demon captive, Sabine ignored his restraints and pressed her hand against Bane’s cheek to send another fortifying wave of power over him. His eyes briefly flashed, and even his horns took on a silver sheen as her magic rushed through him. She’d need to rest soon, but it was imperative she kept up with appearances.
“I will see you soon, my protector,” she said, loud enough for her voice to carry to those who were lingering nearby. With any luck, rumors about her claim over Bane would circulate throughout Razadon and offer him another layer of protection.
Bane knelt before her, but she caught a gleam of approval in his eyes before he lowered his horned head. “As you command, My Queen.”
Astrid guffawed. “Nicely done, girl. That’ll make those buffoons think twice about harming yer guard. The demon will be safe enough until the council decides what to do with him. It’ll likely be a day or two for those fools to pull their heads out of their asses and get organized.”
Sabine pasted on a pleasant smile and motioned for Bane to rise. His obeisance was unsettling. It was likely grating on him as well, but she’d continue to emphasize their sworn blood bond if it helped them win his freedom. She needed to learn more about the dwarven justice system and fast. Astrid would probably be their best chance of that, especially with her connection to Sabine’s mother.
Malek motioned for Rika to stay close, while Blossom flew to Sabine and hid under her loose hair. Blossom patted her neck and whispered, “I don’t think I like this place. I don't see any flowers, and it smells like dust and bad cheese.”
Sabine made a noncommittal noise. Despite the beauty of Razadon, she wasn’t sure she liked it either.
Astrid studied Rika. “Well, don’t that beat all. Look at those wings. Is she a giant pixie? Don’t know about those antennae though.”
“They’re something else,” Thetar said, cocking his head and studying Rika.
Malek put his arm around Rika and whispered something in her ear. Rika’s lower lip trembled slightly, but she nodded and straightened her shoulders.
“I’m actually part butterfly,” Rika said, holding her head high.
A rush of pride flowed through Sabine. She gave Rika a nod of approval and then turned back toward Astrid. “Is the Faerie embassy far from here? I’d like to get cleaned up before the next council meeting.”
Astrid motioned for Sabine to follow her. “Aye. Yer quarters are right this way. I’ll introduce you to Dagmar so you can get settled.” She glanced over her shoulder and said, “Thetar, fix yer damn beard while I’m gone. It looks like a cave rat’s been chewing on it again.”
Sabine followed Dagmar down the streets of Razadon, while four more guards trailed behind them. Malek had elected to remain a few steps behind her, presumably to keep a close eye on Rika and Blossom. Astrid had only stayed long enough to introduce their redheaded guide before a messenger had called her away on an urgent council matter.
Dagmar was surprisingly friendly, and she bounced down the street with an enthusiasm Sabine found endearing. None of the stories Sabine had heard about Razadon had done it justice. Everywhere she looked, new marvels begged to be explored.
The air was both cooler and heavier with the faint scent of incense lingering around them. Despite the city being nestled within a remote mountain, everything was brightly lit and bustling with activity. The streets were crowded with people intent on various destinations. Sabine spotted a few ogres, trolls, goblins, and other mixed magical races, but the majority of the denizens were dwarves.
What she hadn’t expected was the sheer height or the vast number of stone buildings nestled within the mountain. Windows overlooking the streets had been carved into the walls and covered with different colored glass. Everywhere she looked was a rainbow of colors and remarkable artistry.
Each building they passed was narrow and tall, with some of them appearing to be dozens of stories in height. Crystal lifts moved groups of people up and down to the different levels, taking them to various winding paths. Sabine leaned over one of the balconies to try to gauge the distance, but it was impossible to see the bottom level of the dwarven city. If the twinkling lights were any indication, the lowest part of Razadon descended nearly to the underworld.
Rika was staring wide-eyed at everything, and even Blossom was silently gaping. It was one of the first times Sabine had seen the pixie rendered speechless.
“Everything’s been in an uproar since Badac went missing,” Dagmar said, leading them away from the main thoroughfare in Razadon.
Sabine glanced at her, curious about this Badac. “Do you know what happened to him?”
“Nope. He simply disappeared, and none of our crystals could track him anywhere in Razadon. We sent a patrol out to try to locate him, but it looks like they found you instead.”
Sabine frowned. That didn’t bode well. If the Elder had been the one murdered with those strange crystals, it might explain the strength of the corruption.
Dagmar approached a set of wooden double doors. An image of the Crown of Shadows and Moonlight had been etched into the top of the archway. It was a visual reminder that everyone who passed beneath the doorway was beholden to the Unseelie court and subject to their laws.
Dagmar pushed open the doors and led them inside. A trace of Faerie magic caressed her skin, causing her markings to flare briefly.
“I can’t say I’ve ever been in this part of Razadon,” Malek said to Dagmar.
“This wing is private from the rest of the city,” Dagmar said. “Except for the guards, you won’t see hardly anyone else on this level. This is part of the Faerie court. No one’s allowed here unless they’ve been sworn to serve the Unseelie Fae.”
Rika frowned. “If someone’s Fae, how can you tell if they’re Seelie or Unseelie?”
Sabine smiled at Rika. It was sometimes easy to forget she’d grown up around humans and without much knowledge concerning the magical community. “I suppose it may be a bit harder for a human to tell, but it has to do with our type of magic. Some races and creatures naturally gravitate toward lighter or darker aspects of power.”
“A lot of the pixies still follow the Seelie, but that’s starting to change,” Blossom said.
Sabine nodded. “Yes. It’s essentially a choice, but many races like the gnomes, dryads, brownies, and gryphons naturally gravitate toward the lighter magics. They rely on sunlight to help fuel their power.”
The rustle of wings beating softly overhead caught Sabine’s attention. Large insectoid creatures were perched on the ceiling at regular intervals. Their tails glowed, bathing the hallway with a warm light. The rest of their chitinous bodies were dark brown and blended with the ceiling. If it weren’t for the slight hum from their silvery wings fluttering, Sabine probably wouldn’t have noticed them.
“What are they doing with their wings?” Rika asked, pointing at the ceiling. Her own wings fluttered, almost as rapidly as those of the insect-like creatures. Malek placed his hand on Rika’s shoulder, keeping her firmly on the ground.
“Oh, the tarjin help circulate the air throughout the entire mountain. It would get pretty musty down here if it weren’t for them. I guess you don’t have much need for them up on the surface, huh?”
Blossom peered up at the ceiling and wrinkled her nose. “Why does Bane always call me a bug? I don't look like anything like those things.”
“Maybe he’s envious of your wings,” Malek said with a wink.
Blossom nodded sagely. “Wing envy. No wonder he’s always so grumpy.”
Dagmar turned down an even larger and more ornate hallway. Crystal tiles had been affixed into the ground, catching the glow from the tarjin and reflecting it back upon the walls. A few benches were nestled in alcoves, with murals of forests painted on the walls behind them.
“Are the tarjin intelligent creatures?” Sabine asked, wondering if they might be similar to the pixies in their ability to spy on others.
Dagmar shook her head. “Nah. No more than any other bugs. The demons breed them and munch on them as snacks.” She made a face and stuck out her tongue. “We barter with them whenever we need more drones hatched to light our hallways.”
“Yuck,” Blossom said and made a gagging noise. “Demons eat anything.”
Dagmar grinned. “My friend’s uncle cooks them when they stop glowing. If you want to try them, they serve them in the taverns.”
Rika wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t sound very appealingfsup. What do they taste like?”
Malek chuckled. “I’ve had them before. They’re crunchy and a little bit nutty. Not terrible, but not anything I’d like to eat on a regular basis.”
Sabine bit back a smile. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard the queen of the Unseelie decided to visit Razadon,” Dagmar said, turning down another brightly lit corridor. “We thought it would be another century before you decided to leave Faerie. My mum warned me even when you did, you might not come here until I was old and wrinkled.”
Blossom’s eyes widened. “I’ve never seen a wrinkled dwarf. Pixies don’t get wrinkles.”
Dagnar cocked her head. “Really? I didn’t know that. I’ve never met a real live pixie until now. We have cave trolls that are a little bigger than you, and I don’t think they get wrinkles either. Maybe it’s a size thing? The wrinkles would just swallow you guys up.” She laughed and slapped her thigh. “Can you imagine the size of the wrinkles on a giant? I bet their wrinkles even have wrinkles.”
