by Janeal Falor
“I bet it was one of those humans that took the princess. Good for nothing they are.”
“Those stupid humans. I bet it was them who took Princess Arabella, trying to get out of joining our countries. They think they’re so much better than us and will do anything. I say good riddance to them. We don’t need them,” an old lady crackles.
Frozen, I stare at the two females. They both notice me, and their faces fill with scowls of disgust.
“What right do you think you have to look at us, human?” the first lady spits out.
“I—I am sorry. I just… Did I hear you wrong? Did you say someone took Princess Arabella?”
Stewart moves back by me now.
“Yes, you halfwit. Where have you been?” the second lady answers. “The king sent word out, and everyone has been searching for her.”
The first nods in agreement. “Some type of note was sent to King Sterling and Queen Pernilla, but no one knows what it says. The princess hasn’t been seen since. I’m sure some brutish human the likes of you two had something to do with it.”
If only they knew who they were talking to. What must my parents be thinking? They must be frantic. Clearly the whole country is in an uproar. We have to return as soon as we can.
Stewart steps protectively in front of me and Jocelyn. “You two had best be moving on. These two girls aren’t hurting anyone.” Without waiting for a reply, he urges us into the building, leaving the crowd behind.
We keep walking forward, following Stewart again, eyes adjusting to the dim warehouse. The dark building is full of crates stacked high on top of each other. As I can see, it seems they never end.
I glance at Constance, who is walking calmly but kneads her hands together. This situation is stressful on everyone.
Stewart leads us through a maze of crates and stops at a well-hidden door. When he pulls it open, brilliant light pours into the dark storage room. We file into the small white room.
An elf sits at a wooden desk, filling out paperwork that flows onto the floor and scatters about the room. Though the area is crowded by our small group trying not to step on papers, he doesn’t appear to notice our presence. A wide window behind him lets the light in, making it hard to define his features. Only one wooden chair sits in front of the cluttered desk, though it looks as if it might break with the slightest breeze.
Stewart motions for me to sit in the worn chair. Fearing it won’t hold even my small frame, I shake my head. Firmly, he takes a hold of my shoulders and prods me into the chair. It groans angrily at my weight but manages to hold steady.
The noise of the chair stirs the man to life, who looks up at our group. His expression is still hidden by the light of the window, but I see wiry hair sticking out at random places. The man’s hand is poised to write something down on one of the many papers strewn about.
He looks toward Stewart then drops his pen and jumps up to greet him with a hug. “Stewart, my boy. I almost didn’t recognize you, covered in all the dirt.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Father. I know how busy you are.”
Stewart’s father sits back down in his chair and moves his hand in the air like he’s brushing something off. “Nonsense. I can always make time for you.”
“Father, you already know Constance. These two girls are traveling with us. Ladies, this is my father, Lothair.”
“Pleasure to meet you, ladies.” Lothair tips his head. “What brings you here?”
He’s the first elf to look at us like we’re elves and not humans. It’s a good change of pace.
“We need help. We’re on a secret mission. More than I thought we would. We are headed to Amara and will need fresh supplies, but more importantly, we have some very precious cargo with us that is in more danger every moment we delay.”
“What precious cargo?” Lothair’s baritone resonates through the small room.
Stewart looks at me, a question shining through his eyes. I nod my consent, and he moves to the large window and pulls down the yellowing curtains. Instantly, the room is filled with darkness. Lothair lights a lantern, illuminating everything. Shadows dance across the wrinkles on his face. The gray-blue eyes remind me of Stewart. His face has seen many years, but a kindness softens his features.
With the light concentrated on me, I let the human disguise melt off and my true self shine forth. A whimper escapes my lips. My companions murmur as the light dances on my elven face. Without a word, the man gets off his chair, moves around the desk, and kneels in front of me, head bowed. He gently places his wrinkled hand upon my own.
“My lady.” His voice is barely audible but filled with awe. “I’m so glad to know you’re safe. In what way can I assist you?”
“You may rise, good sir,” I say. “We are in need of the supplies Stewart told you of. Enough of them to get us to Amara. Also, just outside of town, with our group, there’s a prisoner who needs to be held discreetly.”
“Why not drop this disguise and travel as yourself? The people will surely be glad to see you. They’ll hold no danger to you once they realize you aren’t human.”
“There’s a hidden danger,” Stewart says. “The king and queen sent us to Sulamay Island because of a threat on Princesss Arabella’s life. A detachment of guard was supposed to follow shortly. They never arrived. Instead, Captain Smythe and his men came.”
Lothair’s mouth falls open with a gasp. “How did you survive?”
“As you can see, the princess is quite clever. She was able to avoid detection. I’m unsure why they didn’t do more harm to us; there is something odd about it. But we were able to catch a ship headed for Amara. It was attacked by the same pirates. We made an escape but were chased down by the pirate who is now our prisoner. Something is wrong. I don’t know if we’re still being chased, or what to expect upon arrival in Amara. The princess best remain in hiding until we figure out what’s going on.”
Lothair’s face scrunches together in worry, his gaze shifting between me and Stewart. “This is troublesome news. I will make arrangements, my lady. I wish I could go with you, but I’m afraid that would only draw more attention to you. I’ll have my most trusted men go with you instead to retrieve the prisoner. They won’t know of your true identity, though, Princess. I fear if you are to go parading about as a human, you won’t be treated kindly.”
“I understand. The disguise isn’t something I can change, but the attitude is one I hope to.” I didn’t realize how much I wanted to change it until just this second, but I do. Innocent humans shouldn’t have to travel through our lands in fear. “For now, though, we will deal with it.”
“Yes, my lady. Go ahead and change into your guise. What an amazing talent you have. I wish that we could wait for the guard. Don’t you think we should?”
“The sooner we get her home, the better,” Stewart says. “The guard was already supposed to arrive once and failed. I’m not trusting them again. Besides, with pirates about and humans being cantankerous against elves, they’re spread thinly as it is.”
“Ah, my boy, you know best. I will see to your supplies.”
He moves to the door with surprising speed and vanishes without a sound. Letting my magic place the human form back upon me with a cringe of pain, I nod for Stewart to open the curtains.
We wait in silence. Jocelyn’s shifting from one leg to the other is the only movement in the room. I don’t dare shift in the rickety chair. About ten minutes later,, the door opens again and Lothair walks through followed by two stocky fellows with packs on.
“Sorry for the delay. These two elves, Stephen and Brendan, will escort your prisoner back here, where we will keep him until further notice. They are carrying enough supplies to get you to Amara, but you will have to carry them once back at camp.”
I’m so anxious for good meals, I’d carry both packs myself.
“We greatly appreciat
e all that you have done for us,” I say.
“I assure you, the pleasure has been all mine. I only wish I could do more. Next time I see you, son.” He clasps Stewart’s shoulders and pulls him close for a brief hug before letting go.
We head out the door with the two bulky elves following us out of the dark building. We make our way through the large crowd, but with the new elves with us, we receive only a few nasty looks and are able to quickly head out of town.
As we near camp, an uncomfortable feeling rises in my chest. Stewart must sense it too because he increases his long stride. We are almost jogging to keep up with him, my legs screaming in protest. I keep reminding myself it isn’t far now.
We enter camp, and everything appears normal, until I’m struck by the thought that no one can be seen in camp. A twinge of fear bolts through me.
Chapter
Seventeen
Stewart rushes in front of me, knees bent, sword drawn. I should have included my own sword in the list of supplies. The two elves that joined us drop the supplies to the ground and also draw their swords.
“Robert,” Stewart calls out. “Emeline. Abner. Robert?”
His voice echoes through the trees, and the leaves appear to shake from his voice as the wind rustles them. The frightful silence that follows each shout chills me to the core. Jocelyn scoots her thin frame closer to me. Seeing the younger girl’s fright, I reach out and grab her hand. The girl’s terror becomes even more apparent when she squeezes my hand so hard it hurts.
Stewart opens his mouth to call out again when there’s a thumping noise to the side of camp. Stephen and Brendan hold their weapons at the ready and slink over to investigate the noise. My heart pounds as they move toward the gathering of maple trees and the side of camp and disappear. What if it’s an ambush? Now more than ever I want my sword.
“It’s all right,” Brendan calls. “There are three people back here all tied up. Two male humans and a female elf.”
“That would be part of our group. Go ahead and untie them and bring them out. I’ll make sure camp is secure.”
Stewart looks at Constance, nodding his head toward me, and moves to do a thorough investigation of the camp. Constance hovers protectively over me while we wait for the others to come into the clearing.
Emeline is the first to emerge. Though dirt and weeds covers her clothes, she appears no worse for the wear. Her scowl deepens as she stretches out her body. Jocelyn releases her grip on my numb hand and goes to fuss over Emeline.
After a few moments, both Robert’s and Abner appear, followed closely by the two elves. Both the elves and Abner hold distrustful looks, but Robert is visibly relieved when he sees us. As he speaks with Stewart, he keeps glancing at me.
“I apologize. I’ve no idea how he could have escaped. One minute he was tied up and the next he had Emeline with a sword to her throat, threatening to cut it.” I gasp, and he continues, tone softer, “Fearing for her life, we did as he wanted. He made Abner tie up Emeline and me, and then he tied up Abner. After making sure we couldn’t go anywhere, he ran off. It didn’t look like he headed for town, but I was afraid he went after you.”
Stewart puts his hand on Robert’s shoulder, lifting Robert’s gaze from me. “Don’t be hard on yourself. I would have done the same. Emeline, are you well?”
“I’m fine, I think.” She looks at the ground as she speaks. I want to wrap my arms around her. She’s clearly trying to keep herself together and doing a good job of it. Blasted pirate. “Abner tried to fight him off before the pirate could tie him up, but the pirate thwarted him,” she says.
Not what I would have expected from him.
“You’re so brave,” Jocelyn says as she brushes the dirt off Emeline’s skirt. “I think I would have fainted on the spot. I should have stayed behind to help you set up camp. Then you wouldn’t have had to face him alone.”
Emeline pulls her lips into a thin straight line, then draws the corners up in a small smile and nods her head. She has to be raging on the inside. I can’t help but be jealous. I hold myself together, but the harder things get, the more difficult it is.
Stewart breaks through my musings. “We won’t be able to rest tonight. Let’s pack up and get a move on. I don’t want that cur to lead the rest of those pirates here, though I doubt he’ll be able to return to the ship tonight. The further we are, the better I’ll feel.”
Constance dances into action, rushing the girls about the makeshift camp. Stewart goes to converse with Stephen and Brendan, while Robert steps closer to me. Abner glares at the two of us as if we may draw apart if he stares hard enough. Robert looks at him and jerks his head toward the supplies the elves brought. With a gruff snort, Abner shuffles over to the discarded packs.
Robert turns back to me. The world becomes unimportant—everything except Robert fades into the falling dusk. The bright moon lights half of his face as we lock gazes, and a current passes between us. The skin under his left eye is darkening, and a trickle of blood has dried from a gash on his forehead. My fingers itch to give it a healing touch and ease the pain.
“I’m glad to see you are well.” His voice is like a soft caress.
“I’m good. You, though, look a little more worn out than the last time I saw you.”
“Yes, well… the pirate wasn’t too caring about where he shoved us, but it’s of no importance. I feared he would follow you into town and manage to steal you away from Stewart. I’m set at ease to see you well, Adelei.”
A warm blush creeps up my face. I glance to the side, hoping to hide it in the shadows and wishing it didn’t come so easily around him.
He continues to look at me as he speaks. “Do you ever wish you spent more time with other humans?”
Before, all the time, but now they bring too much danger. “Not really. I think the race is interesting.”
“I find that intriguing. Most humans avoid elves as much as possible. I have no qualms about being around them, but I am more comfortable around humans. Some elves have a different air about them, though I must say, I sense that same air when I’m around you.”
I force a laugh, attempting to keep things light. “I’ve probably been around them too long, and some of their spells have worn off on me.”
“Really? The difference I’m feeling is magic?”
“I believe so. Magic does leave a feeling around elves who cast spells, but most don’t notice it. In fact, even those looking for it don’t always feel it. Someone must be very focused to recognize it.” I trail off, realizing what I said. The heat comes back, as I think of how much attention he must be paying to notice my spell. The fact that he detects other elves’ magic is unusual but not rare. That he feels it in me makes me tingle with delight.
Silence drifts between us for a few moments. Robert runs his fingers through his hair and asks, “What do you know of their magic? Most humans are superstitious and frightened by it.”
This time, my laugh comes hard and true, filling the air. Constance glances over at us, but I do my best to ignore her. “Elves don’t have any power to be afraid of. In fact, most elves don’t have much magic power anymore. Some say that long ago it used to be greater, and they had the ability to do many things. Now days, no elf is terribly powerful. All it does is enhance skills they already possess.”
“Like what? Make their jokes funnier?”
I giggle. “No. For example, a healer. An elf already good at healing could use their magic to strengthen their ability. Or someone that’s in tune with nature can control the weather, like the wind. A sailor like yourself could be good at that. If you were an elf you could use the wind to help you go faster or change the direction of the wind, though that could only be performed by a more accomplished elf.”
“That would have been useful when our ship hit the storm that sent us to your island. Maybe we should hire an elf to help us when we reach Amara
.”
“It will be hard to find someone. Not only would you have to find a powerful elf—which is rare—you’d also have to find one willing to deal with the consequences of magic.”
His forehead fills with wrinkles of confusion. “What type of consequences?”
“Well, spells don’t come from thin air. They must use things that already exist. The change in those things is what brings about different effects. A healer draws from his own health or the health of another to help someone recover from a wound or illness. As a result, whoever’s health is drawn from will be weaker. They won’t have the wounds of the sick person, just the exhaustion. This is why Constance hasn’t healed either of us. Speaking of her, have you noticed the meals not being quite as good as they were on the ship?”
“I have, though she still cooks better than most.”
“She does. But it hasn’t been as good because she doesn’t want to use her magic on it. Magic brings out the flavor of the food, but the food loses some of its beneficial properties. Years ago, there was an elf who would use a high level of magic on everything she ate. Her body began to wither away, and no one could figure out why. The healers lost hope that she would live. It was when she was so ill she could no longer cook for herself that she started getting better. When she was well enough to cook and indulged too much with enhancing food, she got sick again. The healers eventually figured it out.”
“It can be that deadly?”
Thinking of my own spell and the unknown consequences, I grow solemn. “Magic is not something to be taken lightly.”
“I can imagine. This is a whole new concept to me, and I find it fascinating, not scary like many humans proclaim it is. What other consequences are there?”
“The wind we were speaking of before would change the weather. This reaction varies a lot since the weather itself is so unpredictable. It may range from inducing a blistering heat to pouring rain, sometimes even snow.”
His voice becomes hushed. “Wait, does this mean that one of the elves traveling with us cast a spell on the wind to cause the pirates to fall behind before we made it to Port Varas?” His exclamation leaves a knot in my stomach. I chide myself for giving so much away and hope he doesn’t figure out the correct answer. His puzzled expression clears, lighting his face. “I know. It was Constance.”