by Linn Tesli
The Elf was tall, her body athletic, and her skin carried an oily, olive sheen. She wore only a small scrap of a top, which appeared more like a brassiere, along with a pair of fitted trousers.
Her attire was constructed entirely of moss, twigs, leaves, and twisted vines. The vines in her top travelled up behind her neck where they were woven into her long, raven-black hair. They snaked out around her head to form an elegant headpiece.
She stood and gestured for them to come closer. “Birken, dear. Back so soon?”
“Yirin.” Birken smiled generously. “You look well. It really has been a long while since last I saw you.”
“Seems like the blink of an eye to me.” Yirin extended her arm as they approached her. Her nose was slightly aquiline, and her eyes were a soft cinnamon-brown.
Birken bent to kiss the proferred hand in much the same manner as he had with Everine when they first met. Everine didn’t appreciate how he kissed Yirin one bit, though she thought it was probably some kind of custom he followed. Neither did she like the way the Earthling and the Elf had kept her completely out of the exchange of proper greetings thus far.
“We’re going to need a couple of your strongest steeds, my beaut,” Birken said.
“Flattery will only get you across the doorstep.” Yirin tilted her head, her eyes sweeping up and down Birken’s body, inspecting the various belongings strapped to him. “What have you got for me in return?”
“I found something interesting while visiting the towers of Njordhall.” He searched through one of the satchels he was wearing. “I figured it must be of interest to you. Ah, there it is.” Birken pulled his hand out of the satchel and presented a giant seashell. Curious, Everine peeked past his arm.
The shell was the size of his hand, and its marbled surface shone in a range of purples and pinks. Yirin accepted it and carefully opened the shell to uncover the largest coral-pink pearl Everine had ever seen resting in its nucleus. Pale light emanated from the pearl, casting watery shadows to dance along the walls of the room.
“For this,” said Yirin, “I’ll throw in some arms as well. You look like you have only packed the very essentials for you and your…” The Elf nodded in Everine’s direction, finally acknowledging her presence. Everine instinctively wrapped her arms across her chest where Ayva slumbered out of sight.
Birken shrugged. “Her? Not worth your time. Just a swindler from Caradrea. Thought she could make some coin hustling men in Lycobris. I’m taking her back where she belongs.”
Everine clenched her fists until her fingernails dug into her skin. Yirin squinted at her. In the end, her nostrils blew out and her thin lips parted into a frown before she dismissed Everine once more.
Clearly, the wild elven woman cared nothing for those who hustled their way through life. Yirin gestured for Birken to follow her outside as she walked toward the door. Everine sighed and fell into step with Birken.
“You may choose what weapons you need from the armory.” Yirin shifted her shoulders to indicate the direction in which the armory lay. “Once you're decided on your arms, you may leave with any two of the yellow, black, or silver mares or stallions from the furthest stable.” Yirin stroked Birken’s chest lightly with the flat of her hand as she spoke.
He smirked. “I appreciate it. We’ll be out of your vines in no time.”
“Always a pleasure, Earthling. If there’s nothing more I can do for you today, I bid you farewell.” She winked and stretched herself luxuriously on the balls of her feet with her arms raised above her head, after which she strutted over to a nearby bench.
To Everine’s surprise, Yirin picked up a long-handled pipe, similar to Birken’s own, from the seat and lit it. Birken chuckled as he took Everine’s arm and led her to the back of the stables.
The armory was hardly modest. It was bigger than Everine’s house in Beregend had been. The wooden beams were carved to perfection with intricate patterns, crafted with Elven skills. The symbols sculpted into the wood featured a variety of animals, from bobcats, to griffins, and foxes, and paid special tribute to the elements of fire and air. Rows of weapons racks of different sizes stood evenly placed throughout the space.
Everine didn’t know the first thing about choosing weapons for combat, but she had used a bow to hunt for food in the past, and her aim was fairly good.
Ayva stirred, and Everine loosened her garments to allow the baby a look at the armory. Her small head turned this way and that before looking back at Everine. The tips of her tiny fingers landed on Everine’s cheek, and Ayva beamed. Images of Everine and Aurora stringing their bows together appeared within Ayva’s irises, and Everine’s own eyes filled with tears.
She remembered well the lessons of the hunt, which she and Aurora had been taught by their father when they were young. Everine shut out the memories and selected a bow and a matching quiver filled with arrows that had caught her eye. She also helped herself to a dagger and a one-handed sword in its sheath.
Birken took a couple of daggers, an axe, and a two-handed great sword and a matching sheath that he fastened on his belt. The great sword would have been completely unmanageable for anyone of ordinary size. In his grip, however, it looked exactly right. Weighing the sword in his hands, he gave it a swing and sheathed it.
“Now, let’s decide who our new traveling companions will be,” he said, seeing that Everine was finished. Eyes glimmering with excitement, he hurried her out of the door toward the furthest stables.
Everine had not been prepared for what faced her inside. The sweet smell of lime and honey overshadowed the scent of fresh cut hay. The stable featured two rows of spacious stalls and the high ceiling displayed a series of arched windows, which allowed the sunlight to illuminate the room of red timber.
The stalls had been built with great care. Each was delicately hand-decorated with crisp carvings that echoed those in the armory. And within each stall stood a magical creature of old. Everine’s eyes widened at the sight, and her lips spread out into a smile.
At first they looked merely like extraordinarily big horses, but the horns on their foreheads betrayed them for what they were. As long as Everine’s arm and glowing gently, the horns shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow.
“Unicorns!” Everine whispered.
“Incredible, aren’t they? When you pick yours, you’ll need to look for one with a spirit like your own, else there’s no way it’ll allow you on its back.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” Everine muttered to herself.
Ayva made little sounds of discomfort, and Everine unbound her to allow her meet the unicorns. Birken moved down the row of stalls.
Everine lifted Ayva close to the nearest unicorn so they could both get a proper look at the magnificent creature. Ayva’s eyes shone.
The silver unicorn in front of them tossed his chalk-white mane and snorted with annoyance. He turned his rump to them and flapped his tail in their faces. Ayva grunted and stretched her arms towards another stall.
They went over to greet a yellow unicorn three stalls down with a golden mane and syrup-brown eyes. Ayva leaned close to touch this one as well. The mare looked friendly enough. The scarlet horn protruding from its forehead immediately started glowing as Ayva placed her hand on its muzzle. The mare whinnied with delight, and Everine couldn’t deny a distinct feeling of familiarity.
“Birken,” she called. “Ayva found our unicorn.”
“Good. I just met mine.” He stood on the opposite side of the aisle, further down the row of stalls, petting a black stallion. Everything he had carried lay in a heap on the ground at his feet. He returned to the back wall of the stall to collect the stallion’s saddle.
Everine wrapped Ayva against her chest once more, and began readying her unicorn for travel. She had finished strapping on the last of the saddlebags when a bevy of heavy footsteps sounded from outside the stable. Loud voices issued from somewhere near the cottage.
Yirin’s angered voice pierced through the
clamor. Everine heard her command the newcomers to leave her horses alone.
Fear ensnared Everine.
Birken held one finger to his lips and signaled her to stay put. Folding her arms over Ayva, Everine hunched down in the far corner beside her mare.
The doors of the stable flew open.
A rough voice filled the building. “Creos, I struck gold.”
Everine crouched down further and watched as two pairs of silver-colored feet joined one another at the stable doors. Silverlings! The worst possible Devlings she could have encountered in all of Aradria.
“Only got horses, eh? Hiding unicorns from the king is a punishable offense. I’ll make sure the Elf knows. Round them up, Kiros. About time we returned home.” Creos’s voice thundered between the stalls. “I would say we ought to be well-rewarded for our efforts, brother.”
Cruel laughter sent chills running through Everine’s body. Creos went back outside, and two others joined Kiros.
Everine turned to search for Birken. Her heart sank at the sight of the empty space five stalls down where his unicorn had been. Her mind raced, and Everine tried to steady herself with her breathing. Ayva snorted and raised her eyes to Everine’s. Everine shook her head and shushed Ayva, strapping her cloak tighter around her chest, covering the baby completely.
When she looked up again, a Silverling glared at Everine from the aisle. He dropped his shining, white helmet to the ground and licked his sapphire-blue lips. He didn’t bother calling for the others as he entered the stall.
“Shh—stay still, and it’ll be over before you know it.” His devious demeanor and the coldness in his voice raised the hairs on her skin. Everine was trapped.
Like the rest of his kin, his body was hairless and silver-colored. Symbols, once burned into his flesh, had left ivory scars covering his scalp, arms, and legs. Shiny, white armor revealed him as one of the Zila’r-nath—a member of the Silverling army, the king’s very own league of mercenaries.
He was almost the height of Birken, though their features differed greatly. The Silverling’s broad shoulders portrayed strength, despite his slender figure. Everine pressed herself against the wall.
The Silverling appraised her with cruel, purple eyes. Moving with quick strides, he reached out toward Everine. As he bent forward, however, the mare neighed, turned, and kicked the Silverling straight in the head with her back feet. He was hurled toward the wall before he slid to the floor next to Everine.
His face was crushed. Nausea surged up in Everine, but she swallowed back her repulsion. She stroked one shaking hand over her cloak where Ayva was hidden. She had to keep a clear head if she was going to be able to protect the baby. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before she retrieved the dagger from her boot.
Quick footsteps pounded the ground before another Silverling appeared outside the stall. His purple eyes stared blankly at his fallen companion.
“Milos is dead,” he called. “The unicorn did him in.” Displaying a row of gleaming white teeth, he raised his voice again. “There’s a woman in here.”
“Deal with it,” someone replied icily from out of sight.
The Silverling shrugged, reached within his chest armor and pulled out a dagger. He was lighter on his feet than the other had been. The mare tried to kick him, but he avoided her with ease.
Latching on to Everine’s wrist, he pulled her to him and kept her in front of him as a shield as he dragged her out of the stall. Everine kicked and squirmed to no avail.
Still gripping her wrist, the Silverling pushed Everine against the outside of the stall by her throat.
He glared at her, bits of spittle foaming at the corners of his mouth. “Such a pretty thing.” A purple tongue reached out to lick Everine’s neck as he pressed himself against her.
He put his own blade in between his teeth. Everine clutched at her dagger and raised it, but the Silverling caught her wrist as she attempted to stab his side.
Pain shot up her arm as he struck her hand hard against the wall. Everine could hear her bones snap, and the dagger fell to the ground from her limp hand.
“Fiery too.” He tightened his hold on her. “I’m going to enjoy this.” Shoving his body heavily against hers, he undid his trousers with a free hand so that they fell to his knees.
His ice-cold fingers released her wrist and slipped between Everine’s thighs, lifting her skirts. The other hand moved from her neck and reached for her breasts.
Ayva cried, catching the Silverling off-guard. His eyes widened, before his head was cast backward. A set of strong, familiar hands folded around the Silverling’s head and twisted it sharply.
A loud snap sounded in Everine’s ears, and the Silverling collapsed to the ground at her feet. Birken approached her, frantically looking her up and down. His face was bruised.
“You okay, Ev? Please be okay. I’m so sorry. I got held up.”
Heat burning her cheeks, Everine patted down her skirt. She refused to cry. “Just…a minor fracture in my wrist, I think.” She feigned confidence. “Hardly worth getting your—”
Light shimmered on the edge of a knife. A Silverling ran at them, the knife pointed toward Birken’s back.
Everine wrapped one arm around Birken’s neck and pulled him into an embrace, allowing them to slide sideways. She released him before she picked up the dagger by her side with her uninjured hand, jumped to her feet, and plunged it straight between the attacker’s eyes.
The Silverling convulsed and fell dead to the ground beside Everine. Her heart slammed against her chest. The number of those who had died in order for her to protect Ayva were piling up.
“If you had wanted me to hug you, all you had to do was ask.” Birken grinned.
He stood, and Everine dusted herself off. “This really isn’t the time, Birken. There are others out there.”
“Yes. We need to disappear. Get your mare and stay close. There’s a back door near where my stallion was. We ride north.”
Nodding her assent, Everine hurried to fetch her mare. She took the unicorn by the reins and led her carefully toward the stall Birken had pointed out.
“What about the other unicorns?” she asked him.
“You’re right, Ev. Yirin would want them to have the chance to run.”
They left their saddled unicorns and ran down the length of the stable, opening the doors to every stall. “When we open the outside door, you run,” Everine whispered to each of them. When the unicorns thumped their hooves lightly in consent, Everine and Birken hurried to leave.
Once outside, they mounted their unicorns. The rest of the unicorns followed, galloping past them and disappearing into the treeline. Everine would have followed their lead, but Birken was not moving.
“Birk, we really ought to—” She followed his line of sight. Yirin hung naked by her arms from the huge linden tree that stood behind her cottage. Broken vines still clung to her hair. Blood streamed down between her legs into a crimson pool on the ground. Her gaze was wide and motionless.
Everine shut her eyes at the bitter taste in her mouth. She didn’t want to rush Birken, but there was no time.
“North—right, Birken?”
He remained frozen in his saddle, staring at Yirin’s body. When Everine reached out to touch his shoulder, he said absently, “We have to bury her.”
Everine clung awkwardly to the reins with one hand. Her injured wrist pulsed with her rapid heartbeats. She steered her unicorn in front of Birken and pointed a finger at Ayva. “If we don't go now, Yirin will not be the only one hanging from that tree.”
Birken looked at her then, and his eyes regained their focus.
“We ride. Now!” He kicked his heels, and his black stallion gathered speed.
“Run,” Everine said, and the mare set off after him. As they galloped through the trees, a scream chased after them.
“No! Kiros!” The voice howled. The remaining Silverlings had found their brothers. The forest stirred as the large pack of Silverlings
hastened to leave Yirin’s glade. As disconcerting as it was, the racket they created gave Everine an idea of how far behind they were. She could only hope that the Silverlings would not catch their trail.
Everine and Birken didn't look back, and continued to drive the unicorns to their limits as they raced on. The other unicorns were nowhere to be seen.
They rode through the night and another sunset was approaching before Birken finally stopped. They had only slowed down on occasion for Everine to feed Ayva, at which point the unicorns would help themselves to the grass while trotting onwards. Birken appraised Everine’s condition, rubbing one hand behind his neck.
“I suppose the two of you could use some rest. Maybe some food would do us all a bit of good too.” His gaze fell downward, and he shook his head.
They led the unicorns off the trail until they found a suitable spot to make camp. When Birken had rubbed down the unicorns, the creatures trotted down to a nearby stream. Birken inspected the perimeter before he picked up Everine’s bow and quiver and left in search of dinner.
Everine took the time to bind her wrist. It was awkward at first, but she finally managed. When she was done, she unwrapped Ayva, cradling her in one arm. The baby was looking a little pinched.
She stroked Ayva’s chin, choking on her words. “I’m so sorry.” She gritted her teeth against the throbbing in her wrist. “Truly. Eat now, precious.”
The yellow mare trotted to her side when Ayva had finished feeding and nudged Everine gently on the shoulder. Everine sighed and leaned her head on the mare’s neck. Digging her hooves into the ground, the mare bent her front knees low.
Everine looked at her with confusion. “What is it?” As she gazed into the mare’s gentle eyes, the creature’s horn began to glow. The unicorn touched the tip of it to Everine’s injured wrist.
The damaged area reflected the light from the horn and, in the blink of an eye, the pain dissolved. The mare whinnied with delight and stepped away once more. Astounded, Everine unwrapped her wrist, turning it this way and that. It had completely healed.