Citadel of Fire

Chapter Twenty

A BATTLE OF WIND AND FIRE

Darius rushed to Gray’s side, helping him to his feet.  Ayva stood as well.  They were both beaten up—Ayva had a bruise upon her cheek, and cuts and scrapes marred Gray’s arm as if he’d just been tossed down a rocky hillside, but all in all, it was nothing serious.  How did we survive that? 

Faye, Darius remembered, turning.  She still sat at the bar, sipping her drink and puffing smoke from his pipe as if nothing had happened.  She had turned around now and was sizing up the room.

Both the Devari and the stranger had engaged in some sort of epic angry staring contest, and both seemed to be winning and losing.  Darius looked towards the backdoor, wanting more than anything to not be involved in that.  Quietly, he tugged on Gray’s arm.  “Let’s get out of here before…”

“No one else leaves,” the Devari declared.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Faye replied coolly.  “But I am curious as to why a Devari is in this cursed place.  The Citadel’s presence, sadly, does not extend to Shadow’s Corner.  You are a far away from your home.  Perhaps even more so than those three,” she said, nodding in their direction.  “And they at least are fools who don’t know any better.”

Darius wanted to be angry, but a part of him agreed with her.  They were over their heads. Far over their heads, and he was the one who had got them into it. Great, now I’m playing the dicing hero.  Darius saw Gray.  He looked as if in a trance, gazing at the Devari.

“You let them all get away…” the copper-eyed young man seethed.  “I needed that fool, Adorry, and you released him without even a care.”

“He was not yours to keep,” the Devari said.

“Nor yours to send away!”

“I see your pain, but your anger is blinding you.  Or do you really think that man would have aided you?  He would have led you to The Lair of the Beast and then fed you to the beast itself.  If you think otherwise, then you are a fool.”

            The stranger still shook with anger, but he seemed to see reason.  At last he gave a thin, hard sigh.  “It was my only chance…”

            “Your only chance for what?” Gray asked suddenly.

            All turned to him.

            The stranger eyed him curiously, his copper eyes narrowing.  “To save a life.”

            “Whose life?” Ayva asked gently.

            “What’s it to you?” he replied, without turning.

            “Please, perhaps we can help,” Ayva insisted.

            Raising a dubious brow, Darius tugged on her sleeve, but she didn’t flinch. Ayva!  What are you thinking?  he growled inwardly.  Isn’t one impossible mission enough?

The stranger looked to Ayva, and some of his fire seemed to visibly dissipate, but his voice was still cold.  “My sister’s.”  Darius dropped his hand and swallowed.  The others looked uncertain as well.  That explains his anger.

            “We can still save your sister, Zane,” the Devari answered.

            “How… How do you know my name?”

Slowly, the Devari pulled back his hood.  Darius winced, repressing the urge to look away.  Sharp blue eyes were the only true feature on the Devari’s face.  The rest of it was hideously scarred.  It shone in the inn’s pitiful light, bone-white.  Some parts were smooth and taut, looking almost unharmed, while others were twisted and overlapping like tight strands of rope.