Of Liars and Thieves

by Gabriela Lavarello

  Lorian snorted and the nian turned its head slowly to give the thief an unimpressed look. Lorian’s smile fell when his eyes met with the nian and he hastily cleared his throat, looking down and scuffing his boot against a loose stone.

  “Why on that night specifically?” Aeden asked, and her left hand began to move restlessly at her side. “That is the night of Clamidas.”

  “The fairy festival?” Finriel asked, looking at Aeden, who nodded.

  “It’s celebrated every winter solstice during the blood moon as gratitude for our creation as a species.”

  “Why on this night in particular, may I ask?” Tedric now faced the nian, who was gazing at Aeden with a knowing expression.

  The nian shifted its gaze lazily back to Tedric. “I am afraid I was created without the ability to tell you until that day comes to pass, but I can tell you that it will be a very dark night indeed.”

  “Fine,” Aeden said hastily, “we promise upon our lives that we’ll free you on the night of Clamidas.”

  The nian chuckled and shook his head. Aeden bristled and looked away, her hand still fidgeting at her side. There seemed to be something wrong with her reaction to this, something that brought an uneasy feeling into Tedric’s stomach. Though he couldn’t blame her for being ruffled about releasing a beast on the night of celebration for her kin’s birth.

  “I need the promise of my master, not the little girl.”

  “I am not a little girl,” Aeden seethed.

  “You have my promise that you will be released from your page when the night of Clamidas is upon us,” Tedric said hastily, glancing at Aeden with growing concern before he nodded to the nian.

  “How do we release you?” Lorian interrupted. “We have only found out how to place you into the pages, not get you out again.”

  “It will come to you when the needed moment arrives,” the nian replied simply before he turned back to Tedric.

  The beast bowed his large hairy head in respect, and Tedric stepped forward. He stretched his hand out, the paged clutched tightly in his grip, and the nian pressed a gnarled horn against the thin parchment. The nian began to shimmer and quickly shrank into the page. With a final pop and tingle in Tedric’s fingers, it was gone.

  Lorian let out a breath of relief. “Well, that was certainly the most sophisticated beast we’ve met so far.”

  “He was still incredibly unhelpful,” Finriel said with a shake of her head.

  “I prefer the rakshasa,” Aeden growled, and stalked away.

  Tedric raised a brow with concern and watched her retreating form, squinting through the orange glow of the cresting sun. He turned toward his three companions and Nora, who was perched on a rock near the mouth of the cave. He could smell the stench of death rolling off the large cat and he scrunched his nose. Finriel would have some work to do with that.

  “Why don’t you three go in and get a fire going? I’ll speak to her,” Tedric told his companions, the momentary distraction of Nora’s stench fading from his attention.

  Lorian and Finriel nodded and started toward the mouth of the cave, but Krete paused for a moment and inclined his head toward Aeden.

  “Be careful with her.”

  A wave of anger surged through Tedric’s veins at his companion’s words and he cut back a retort. Was he not being careful already? His control over his emotions was hanging by a thread, but Tedric had been nothing but respectful to her since they had met in Millris Forest nearly three moons ago.

  “She’s my dearest friend and something of a little sister to me. I care for her safety,” Krete continued, and Tedric forced himself to nod in reply. Krete smiled softly and nodded as well before he turned back toward Nora’s tail, which was disappearing into the darkness of the cave.

  Tedric let out a shaky breath and turned to where Aeden stood, making his way across the sparse grass and rocks toward her.

  “What’s the matter?” Tedric asked as he stopped behind Aeden.

  Her back was turned to him, her dark cloak billowing behind her in the cold breeze. She tensed at the sound of his voice and swiveled around to face him.

  “You are the matter,” Aeden snapped as she met his stare.

  Tedric raised his brows in surprise. Even though her tone had been sharp, her conflicted expression betrayed such notions. He took a step closer, but she brought a hand up to stop him.

  “Please, don’t.”

  “What have I done?” Tedric asked. His chest constricted as he looked at her. The raw emotion in her gaze betrayed the defensive strength in her stance, and Tedric had to keep himself from looking away for fear of his own heart cracking. She rolled her eyes and glared at the warrior when she noticed his gaze soften.

  “You haven’t done anything,” Aeden retorted, and then paused. “Just … forget about it.”

  She moved to stalk past him, but before he could think, Tedric shot his hand out and grabbed her wrist. Aeden turned to glare at him with molten anger as he found himself leaning forward to speak gently in her ear.

  “You don’t have to fear your heart anymore. Let it speak its truth.”

  Her gaze changed into one of resolve and they stood there, interlocked in a silent yet deafeningly loud battle as it pushed them together. The pressure in Tedric’s chest spasmed and he let out a strangled breath. Their faces were close enough to touch now, and he could see the dark speckles of black within the mysterious green of her eyes, the soft curve of her lips as they opened in surprise.

  Aeden gently pulled her wrist from his grasp and the moment was gone. Tedric let out a breath and looked down at his boots, cursing under his breath. Aeden was already walking back to the cave. He watched her disappear into the shadows without a second glance in his direction. Tedric sighed and turned back to watch as daylight dimmed and the first stars of night blinked to life. The darkness made its descent upon the sky, slowly swallowing the soft pink clouds that seemed to rest upon the top of Dragonkeep in the distance.

  He wished very much to be at home now. It sounded better than where he was, halfway down a mountain and confused about a fairy girl. He cursed under his breath and kicked a stray pebble with his boot, not caring to see where it landed as he dragged his weary body to his companions and a warm fire.

  23

  Krete

  “No wonder the nian wanted to stay out of the page,” Krete said cheerfully. “This cave is lovely.”

  Lorian snorted and wrapped his cloak tighter around his shivering body. Krete knew he’d never been more wrong in his life, but at least the cave was moderately dry.

  “You live inside of a mountain. I’m sure that most caves are good enough to make you happy,” Lorian replied, and Krete gave him a sheepish shrug.

  Krete found that though Lorian was likely joking with him, the thief wasn’t wrong. Krete had been in a foul temper ever since their time in Farrador, but now that they were closer to his home, it seemed that his spirits were lifting by the moment.

  Finriel sat down a few feet away from Lorian and closed her eyes, small flames erupting across her fingers. The flames glowed orange and blue as they enveloped her hands, and she sighed with relief as she drew her hands around in a circle. The flame remained in a small ring of warmth upon the ground even as she removed her hands and let the fire die from her fingers. Krete shook his head in wonder and leaned back onto his elbows, relishing the warmth of the fire.

  “You have more power than most of the witches I’ve met at the Witch Isles,” Krete mused, his eyes still on the flames that now bathed the cave in a warm glow.

  “What brought you to the isles?” Finriel asked, and Krete shrugged.

  “Shipments of supplies mainly. The island is quite small and therefore very difficult for them to be completely self-sufficient with the amount of witches being there. They farm what they can, but king Drohan provides most of their other resources, mending and medical supplies, other foods, things like that.”

  Finriel frowned and reached forward with a finger t
o brush it through the flames. “I thought that Keadora brought them their supplies.”

  Krete shook his head. “Oh, not at all. I’ve never heard the witches say one kind thing about Keadora, nor the Red King for that matter. They all hate him, though they don’t say why.”

  “Be careful that Tedric isn’t nearby or he’ll skin you for saying that,” Lorian said, from where he was stretched out on his back, head resting on his rolled up cloak.

  Aeden walked in at that moment, and Krete watched her with a pang of worry as she sat at his side with a short, frustrated exhale.

  Tedric followed shortly after, his footsteps echoing slightly through the smooth walls. He was clearly flustered, Krete noticed, but the commander hid it well as he came to sit by the reclining thief, and a very healthy distance away from Aeden. Krete reached out and placed his hand on Aeden’s knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She didn’t do anything to acknowledge this, but Krete knew that silence was her way of dealing with negative emotions. He only wished that she would be more careful with them.

  “The nian was quite strange, wasn’t he?” Lorian spoke again, though his eyes remained closed.

  “He was so adamant about being released from the page on the blood moon,” Finriel answered. “I don’t even know why that day in particular was important to him.”

  Aeden snorted from her seat in the corner of the cave, and all eyes turned to her. She wasn’t looking at any of her friends, instead, her gaze was boring into the flames of Finriel’s fire. He knew that there was something off with his dear friend, something that likely had to do with the commander seated across from him.

  “Care to elaborate on your noise, or did you just forget how to breathe for a moment?” Lorian asked.

  Aeden’s gaze flicked up to meet Lorian’s, and she raised her hand in a rude gesture.

  Lorian gasped and brought his hand to his chest as if he had been hurt. “For shame, young lady, you have wounded my pride.”

  Finriel laughed and shook her head. Now all eyes shifted to her, and she quickly closed her mouth. Krete sighed and brought his hands closer to the fire, rubbing them together. Aeden definitely wasn’t acting right, though he wasn’t quite sure what was right anymore.

  “The blood moon was said to be the night that goddess Noctiluca birthed the fairies, and of course is the transition to the first day of winter, as you all know,” Krete began. Everyone nodded, and he continued, “I am guessing that the nian wants to be set free during Clamidas, the fairy festival that honors their birth.”

  “What exactly happens during Clamidas?” Tedric asked curiously.

  “Well, from my observations and readings, all fairies gather in the forests of Proveria and drink and dance from sunset until sunrise. There are rituals and ceremonies, as well as other certain group activities that I don’t feel too inclined to say out loud.”

  Tedric raised his brows and grinned at Krete’s last words, and the gnome’s cheeks reddened at the thoughts that surely passed through each of his companion’s minds.

  “I’d like to participate in this Clamidas festival,” Lorian said with a smile. “It sounds rather charming.”

  “It’s far from charming,” Aeden shot back, speaking for the first time since they had entered the cave. “There are things that I can’t even describe that happen during the night. If you go up to the castle when everyone is gathered in the forest, it’s as if the entire city has been abandoned.”

  “I stand by my word, it sounds absolutely dazzling.” Lorian winked at Aeden, who scowled in reply.

  “The question is if we should actually release these creatures,” Tedric interjected.

  “No, we shouldn’t,” Aeden replied coolly. “Clamidas is too important to my people for five beasts to run through the kingdom and ruin everything.”

  “Aeden’s right,” Finriel agreed. “I think we should respect the fairies, especially on Clamidas.”

  “Wait a moment,” Krete said quickly, “don’t you think that there might be a reason why we have been told to let them out of the pages? Something bigger than even our task?”

  Aeden snorted. “Like what?”

  Krete shrugged, his spirits dropping. “I’m not sure. But it must tie into everything else strange that we’ve encountered.”

  “We don’t need to make any hasty decisions. We should get some rest for tomorrow and decide after we’ve captured the dragon,” Tedric said with a yawn, and stretched out on his back, wrapping his cloak around his body.

  Krete shook his head and turned toward Aeden, who kept her gaze trained upon the fire. Their companions were settling down and readying for sleep, but Aeden’s muscles were taut, as if she were restraining herself from leaping to her feet and running away.

  “You need to tell him,” Krete whispered. Aeden retreated further within her cloak, the material so dark that her light skin appeared starkly white against it.

  “I know,” she muttered, eyes flicking to the fair-haired warrior. Worry for Aeden nagged at Krete’s insides. She had been growing more and more tense throughout these weeks, every moment closer to Tedric making her energy set off like a firework.

  “How do I do it?” Her question was almost a whisper.

  Krete squeezed her knee again and smiled, though an odd sense of sorrow made its way into his heart. He had known Aeden since she was a child, her dominant personality making her father worry about what kind of woman she would become. Krete had always liked that part of her, and watching it slowly fade away now worried him above anything else.

  “You will know when the time comes, I’m sure of it.”

  Aeden’s face fell, and Krete’s heart nearly cracked as she looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “He will never forgive me.”

  24

  Lorian

  Cool autumn sun beat down upon Lorian’s head as he and his companions made their way down the mountain and toward the glittering trap they were about to face. No one spoke as they walked, as no one seemed to have the heart or stomach to try to distract themselves from the treacherous obstacle they were heading toward.

  Lorian looked toward the glittering blue water that was coming ever closer, wishing to the goddesses that he could turn around and run back into the damp cave in which they had spent the night. It had been cold during the night, and Finriel’s meager fire had burned out before dawn. Lorian snorted, the witch had been perfectly warm with that large feline fluff ball curled around her.

  His heart clenched as his mind swam with thoughts of her. He was just glad that she would even speak to him now, let alone look at him. Their relationship had begun to feel civil again, almost normal. But he knew she would never fully forgive him, even if she wanted to. As if his thoughts had beckoned her, Finriel came to walk at his side, and he tilted his head to meet her caramel gaze.

  “Have you met the creatures of the lake?” she asked.

  Lorian quirked his mouth into a half-grin, trying his best to look as careless as he could, but was afraid that his act fell short. He felt like his past was swimming up to bite him in the ass, and he didn’t like it. The mermaids had been kind to him when he encountered them so many years ago, but that had been after they had almost dragged him to the bottom of their lake. Twice.

  “Oh yes, I certainly have,” Lorian said. “They almost made me their noontime snack, and not in the way that you would think.”

  Finriel frowned but didn’t reply, and he was glad of it. The memory of their hands on him still made his blood curdle, and he wasn’t sure if he could say it out loud quite yet.

  “We’re close now,” Aeden hissed, a few feet ahead as they stepped into a small thicket of trees just before the lake. Lorian could see the light grey and white pebbles scattered on the ground ahead of them, and a lump of fear settled in his throat.

  Tedric pulled a branch back so that they could see the water clearly. “The mermaids haven’t sensed our presence yet, we need to move quickly.”

  If Lorian hadn’t met the mermaids befor
e, he would have found their surroundings much too serene to believe that they were about to face such dangerous creatures. He wondered if any of his companions had ever seen a mermaid in their lives, or if he was the only one aware of what these creatures were capable of doing, as well as the beautiful masks they hid behind.

  The companions made their way across the wide expanse of pebbles, and Lorian let his gaze wander around their beautiful yet treacherous surroundings. The salty scent of the Sandrial Waters wafted along the constant breeze and the blue waters of the lake lapped merrily upon the shore. Dragonkeep loomed ahead at the opposite end of the lake, its black stone face sending a sense of foreboding through him.

  “Hand me your page,” Finriel said suddenly, poking Lorian in the shoulder.

  He whirled around and faced her. “Why?”

  She held out her hand expectantly, and after a moment, he withdrew it from his cloak and handed it to her. She took it with a smile.

  “Thank you. I need the other filled out pages as well,” Finriel said, and Aeden tensed.

  “Why?” the fairy repeated Lorian’s question.

  “Mogwas can’t hold their breath for more than a minute at a time,” Finriel began. “It’s far too dangerous for Nora to join this part of the journey.”

  “And what does that have to do with the pages?” Tedric asked, though he took a step toward the witch with his page held in an outstretched hand.

  Finriel took Tedric’s page, and replied, “I’m sending Nora directly to Creonid Mountain with the filled out pages. She can wait for us there, ensuring both her safety as well as that of the pages.”

  “As long as she doesn’t attempt to eat any of the gnomes, I’m sure that she will be welcome,” Krete said with an approving nod, and Finriel gave him the ghost of a smile.

  “I’ll make sure that she stays on her best behavior.” Finriel then looked at Aeden once more. “Your page, please.”