“Who was that old man at the festival?” Willa lay next to Rosh, using his shoulder as a pillow and running her fingers through the hair on his chest. She looked up at him and smiled, and he found her grin infectious.
Disarmed by her smile, Rosh could only half shrug. “Some crazy old man, I ain’t never seen him before.”
“What about Jasper Highsail?”
Rosh let his head fall back. He stared up at the stars above them, thinking. “Ain’t that funny,” he said, somewhat surprised. “I ain’t got the itch to get up there like normal.”
“I spend too much time in one place and it starts this itch in my neck. I got to move — keep going and find something new,” he explained to her. “This time I ain’t getting that. It’s like I’m happy here.”
“I’m happy here,” Willa said, slipping her arm around his chest affectionately.
Rosh laughed. “I didn’t mean that,” he said. “Sure, you put a powerful smile on my face!”
“So what about Jasper Highsail?”
Rosh sighed. He looked around a little, then stared up at the stars again. “Jasper Highsail’s a no good son of a bitch. He’s a pirate captain that’s got a legend for being a two faced double crossing…”
“Quite a reputation, it can’t all be true,” she said when he faltered and ran out of adjectives.
Rosh sighed. “It’s worse, he’s… he’s never let anything get in the way of him being number one.”
“It must be tough, having that sort of a reputation to deal with,” Willa said, sensing there was a lot more to it than this. “You know this man, don’t you?”
Rosh nodded. “He’s my father.”
“Go!” Logan called, standing beside Keshira and raising his mace to block the swing from one of the macabre statues that had suddenly animated as they passed through the entrance hall of the tower. Bailynn stood on the other side, her teeth bared and looking every bit as savage as the statues that came to life.
Dexter, sword in hand, hesitated as they held back the two animated gargoyles.
“If you love her, you must help her — dying here will do neither of you any good,” Bekka said to him.
Dexter nodded but still waited a moment. He knew what he had to do, but it still pained him.
“You’re not abandoning them,” Bekka hissed at him. “They are buying you time!”
“They might need help,” Dexter said. “Stick around and see that they get it.”
Bekka’s eyes widened and she looked ready to protest. A hiss of pain from Logan distracted her. Dexter bounded up the stairs, seeing that Logan had only a fresh bruise upon his arm. Bekka summoned her magic to aid the priest and the pleasure golem.
Dexter crossed through another room and came upon a closed double door. He stopped to study the magical rune upon it. With a shrug he backed up several steps and clenched his teeth with resolve. A running start preceded a feet-first leap at the door. With a flash of light and the smell of ozone the doors flew open.
Dexter fared only slightly better than the door, his legs in spasms and his teeth grinding against the pain. The shock that coursed through his body was over as soon as it begun, but it left his muscles constricted and his lungs unable to draw a breath. His gaze fell on Jenna sitting upon a throne showing no sign of awareness of his presence. Dexter moaned, forcing air into his chest. He made another garbled noise as he tried to curse.
Finally, when Jenna’s eyes flickered across him, he forced himself able to act. His legs cramped, refusing to obey, but his arms were his to control again and his pulled himself across the floor in her direction. The muscles taut in his neck and throat, he nevertheless forced words out in a hiss.
“Jenna, come away from there,” he said. As Lorren had predicted, she showed no sign of recognition or of even paying attention to him.
“I’ve not released you from service,” he continued. “Lord of Deepingdale or not, you’re my first mate! The Voidhawk needs you!”
At the base of four stone steps that led up to a dais upon which the throne sat, he searched around in frustration. Her continued ambivalence left a hollowness in his stomach and a growing heat of rage in the back of his head. He saw the bed nearby, causing his eyes to narrow suspiciously.
“Alright,” he said, looking back at her again. “I need you. I made a mistake — it won’t happen again.”
“The mistake wasn’t what happened in the hold, I mean,” Dexter added quickly. “I mean acting funny and losing track of what’s important.”
“I figure if Kragor and Jodyne could be together on the ‘Hawk, and if Rosh and Willa are being friendly…well, there’s no good reason why the Captain can’t have his first mate as his only mate.”
Still Jenna showed no outward signs of paying attention to him. Gritting his teeth voluntarily instead of involuntarily now, Dexter made his way to his knees and then drove a foot that was half-numb and half in agony into the ground. He rose up and stood unsteadily for a long moment, then took his first step on the stairs.
“I’d be thankful if you’d show me some sign, that door put a serious hurt on me,” Dexter admitted. When still no sign was forthcoming he sighed and took another halting step.
Focusing now on being ambulatory, he made his way up the remaining steps. The numbness in his legs was fading and it was being replaced with the agony of fried nerves and singed flesh. Finally Dexter stood swaying slightly before the throne. He looked down at her and realized his hand was resting upon the hilt of his sword.
“Jenna,” he said her name again, drawing some strength from it. “I hear tell that this happens every so often. There’s nothing right about it,” he added.
“Maybe you can hear me, maybe you can’t. There’s something going on here that’s not you and not me. In fact, I got an idea what it is, and I won’t stand by it.” Dexter had leaned closer as talked, hoping his words might lull her into distraction.
The Captain of the Voidhawk lunged forward, losing his balance and falling as he did so. His finger closed around the amulet that hung from Jenna’s neck and pulled it — and her — to the ground with him.
Jenna screamed as though burned and tried to pull away from him. Dexter’s fingers, exhausted from the electrical discharge, nearly slipped free of the amulet. Her lips began to move, and a few breaths later words were issued from them. Dexter felt the hair stand up on his arms as he instinctively knew she was casting a spell. His Jenna, who knew no magic, was casting a spell on him.
“I’m sorry,” he said as his hand came across and smashed into her jaw. He had little leverage to throw the punch, but it served its purpose and ruined her spell.
Off balance, Jenna was able to pull back from him. Dexter’s fingers barely hung on to the amulet now, and he was stretched out in a bad position in order to do so. He looked up and saw her mouthing more arcane words. He tried to yank her forward by the amulet, but instead he felt a numbing cold streak down his arm from where her hand latched onto his forearm. Try as he might to ignore it, she was able to yank away from him and he fell forward onto his other arm.
Gasping in agony, Dexter put a block on his nerves and felt only the driving need to get that amulet. His vision tinged with red and black spots, he lunged towards her. He slammed clumsily into the elf, who was also off balance, and propelled the two of them down the steps of the dais. Dexter wrenched the necklace away from her, ripping it over her head and bringing some hair with it. Jenna made no noise until it was removed, and then she let loose a blood curdling scream that set Dexter’s spine to tingling.
She leapt on him, trying to reclaim it. He tucked it against his belly and struggled to get away from her — or to get her away from him. A few elbows into the side dislodged her, but she was coming back for him quickly. He dodged to the side, bouncing off a statue as he did so, and was surprised to find her so easily being duped. Yet again her behavior was inconsistent with who she was.