She now only had Conlan to buy something for; she wanted to get him a book, as he had given her his. The bookshop was down a side street, off the main shopping area. It was quiet and dusty, and the owner, a well-fed matron, slept behind the counter. Amelia and Eleanor moved along the bookshelves looking for something suitable. After some careful consideration, Eleanor had chosen a very old-looking, handwritten book. She had flicked through some of the pages and found that many of the words were new to her, but the general gist of it reminded her of some of the Greek philosophers she had read. It was essays on what constituted good governing and what must be provided for the people to make them happy and prosperous. In short, although the book did not seem to come out and say it, its contents enlightened the reader on what made a good king. Amelia had gasped at the expensive, but the shopkeeper had refused to bargain, explaining that it was one of a kind and a collector’s item. She had agreed to warp it, however, and Eleanor put it in her satchel with the other presents.
Happy and relaxed, Eleanor did not notice the men that followed them as they exited the bookshop. It was getting late, and the sun was casting long shadows in the dying heat. As they turned to head back to the hotel, three men stepped in front of them, blocking their way. Eleanor and Amelia froze, then took a couple of steps backwards, only to find two additional men behind them.
“So you are the ones spending money all over town, eh? How about you give us some?” asked the taller of the three men stood in front of the two women.
What does he want? Amelia asked, pushing into Eleanor’s head.
Money.
“I am sorry, but we have spent all our money for today,” Eleanor answered.
“Then we will take what you have,” the man snarled.
Eleanor laughed, a harsh nasty sound intended to convey her contempt. “This is your one and only chance of leaving in one piece – if you lay a hand on either my companion or myself, you will regret it.”
The man hesitated for a moment, but then looked at his four accomplices and decided Eleanor and Amelia were too outnumbered to be a threat. He stepped forward, grabbing Eleanor’s right arm painfully, just above the elbow. She moved into a fighting stance, twisting her right arm up in a block and punching the man as hard as she could in the stomach with her left hand. She knew it had not been a strong punch, but it was enough that he let go. Staggering back slightly, he swung a right-fisted punch at her head. Using her left hand, Eleanor blocked. Stepping towards him and slipping her arm round his, she jerked back, pulling his shoulder back unnaturally and dragging him to the floor as she kicked one of his legs out from under him. As he landed, she dropped heavily, knee first, onto his chest. Ribs snapped and the man let out a strangled cry. Growling, Eleanor punched him hard in the face. It hurt her hand – a lot – but she heard the satisfying crunch of his nose as blood gushed forth, giving his cries a wet, gurgling quality. Her entire attack had taken seconds. Eleanor jumped back to her feet, noticing the astonished faces of the other four men.
Amelia… RUN!
Grabbing Amelia’s hand, she pushed through the two stunned men in front of her and ran down the street in the direction of the inn. It had taken a few moments before Eleanor had heard the slap of feet, as the men recovered their senses enough to chase after them. They were running fast, but the men were gaining on them. Amelia dragged Eleanor down a dark alley, desperate to find them somewhere to hide, but only to discover it was a dead end. Eleanor turned around, her back pushing up against the wall behind her. She could see one man blocking the alley at the end, the other two walking cautiously towards them. Do I blast them? How much damage would I cause? Or do I try to fight them? They will be ready for it this time! As various plans and options ran through Eleanor’s head, she stepped protectively in front of Amelia. Pulling her small dagger from its sheath, she handed it back to Amelia over her shoulder. When she did not take it, Eleanor turned to look; the taller woman had her grey eyes closed and was chewing on her bottom lip, a look of intense concentration on her face. She’s shielding… OK, not a bad idea, but all that is going to do is create a stand-off, and eventually she is going to drop from exhaustion. Before Eleanor could make this point, the men came further down the alley; they were talking to each other.
“… so where are they?” a short, bearded man asked.
“It’s a dead end, they must be here somewhere,” replied the taller, thinner man behind.
The short bearded man nearly walked into Eleanor as he looked around the end of the alley in consternation. They can’t see us… holy crap! Whatever Amelia is doing, they can’t see us.
“Are you sure they came down this alley?” the bearded man asked.
“For the tenth time, yes!” the thin one snapped in reply.
“Well they are obviously not here, they must have used magic to get away!” the bearded man said sarcastically, heading back towards the entrance to the alley. The three men argued for a few moments and then walked away.
“Amelia, I think they’ve gone,” Eleanor whispered as she returned her knife to its sheath. Letting out a slow, tired breath, Amelia opened her eyes and smiled.
Eleanor gave her a hard look. “OK, spill! How long have you known you could do that?” Amelia shrugged. “I didn’t, I guess I needed the adrenaline kick to figure it out. I manipulated the energy particles in the shield somehow, split them down and then wrapped them round us. I made the shield at the front project what was being reflected onto the shield at the back – the wall – making it look like we weren’t there. The two halves of the particles were still connected somehow, so what affects one, affects the other.”
“Wow, I didn’t even know that was physically possible. Could you do it again?”
Amelia nodded, a huge grin spreading across her face. A thousand tactical advantages to being invisible went charging through Eleanor’s head.
They returned to the inn, stopping at the reception to collect Freddie’s sword, which had been delivered for them. Walking slowly back to the room, Eleanor felt strange, as if she were giving up something important, a small piece of freedom maybe. Before she opened the door, she turned to Amelia and whispered.
“I don’t think we should mention our little ‘adventure’, OK? The boys will never let us out of their sight again.”
Amelia nodded. “Thank you for a fun afternoon.”
Eleanor smiled at her and opened the door to their suite.
Freddie looked up at them miserably from the corner of the room, where he sat on the floor. Will was trying to look stern, but Eleanor could see the relief in his eyes and Conlan was pacing the length of the room. He stopped as they entered and glared at them.
“Hi,” Eleanor said, stepping over the threshold and closing the door. Conlan marched towards them, and towering over her he jabbed a finger into her chest.
“Where have you been?” he snarled.
“Shopping,” Eleanor said innocently.
“Have you any idea how dangerous this place is?” Conlan snapped. “You were shopping!? Where did you get money?”
Eleanor gave Amelia a sideways glance and they both dissolved into giggles. Conlan grabbed her by the front of her shirt, yanked her forwards and shoved her back, her head bouncing solidly off the door. Her good humour gone, Eleanor glared back at him.
“Being in this room with you right now is the most dangerous thing we’ve done all afternoon. Take your hands off me,” she hissed.
“We were worried about you,” Will said, giving Conlan an angry glance.
“I needed to be in the real world for a while, needed to have some fun,” Amelia countered, glaring from Will to Conlan and back again. “Eleanor gave me that fun, and now this stupidity has totally ruined my good mood. I don’t suppose it has done much for Eleanor either.”
“Are we prisoners?” Eleanor asked softly. Conlan shook his head, taking a step away from her. Eleanor glared at him as she continued in the same soft voice. “Then we can come and go as we please. We told Fre
ddie where we were going, if we had not come back in a reasonable length of time, I would expect you to come and find us. Otherwise, I would hope you would trust your training enough to know we can handle most things.” There was a long silence. Conlan turned and walked off into the right-hand side bedroom. Once he had left the room the mood seemed to lift. Eleanor stared at the floor, feeling uncomfortable, angry and humiliated.
“So, did you have a good time?” Freddie asked, coming to sit on one of the comfy chairs. Amelia nodded.
“We had fun; Eleanor bought you a present.”
Eleanor raised her head in time to see Freddie’s eyes light up. She stared at the doors Conlan had just walked through. Seeing her dazed, hurt look, Amelia took the sword out of her numb fingers and gently eased the bag off her shoulder before sitting with Freddie and Will, giving Eleanor some time to process her thoughts.
Her head hurt, but her heart hurt more. Why is he so quick to strike at me? Moving over to Amelia’s chair, not taking her eyes off the bedroom door, Eleanor held out her hand, an unspoken request. She felt the book she had bought Conlan placed in it, and not looking at the others, she walked into the bedroom. Conlan sat against the wall. His face held its normal emotionless expression as he stared at nothing. He looked up at her as she walked towards him and held the neatly wrapped book out to him.
“I bought you a present, and to answer your question, Remic gave me the money.”
“You want to give me a gift?” He sounded confused.
Eleanor glared. “You’re an arse with temper issues, and I’d appreciate it if you kept your hands off me in future.” Her gaze softened. “However, I did disappear for several hours with Amelia and then didn’t take your concern very seriously. I know I push you too far on occasion.”
“I regret my actions,” he said in Dwarfish, a soft apologetic snarl rumbling through him, his eyes not leaving the floor.
“Do you really regret your actions?” Eleanor asked in Dwarfish, layering supreme irritation through the question. “Because I had to come and find you for an apology. If you are sorry then fine, I forgive you, so stop sulking, get up and join us.”
“Eleanor, I promise I will never lash out at you again.”
“Do not make promises to me you cannot keep.”
Pained green eyes stared at her. “You assume that I am going to hurt you in the future?”
Eleanor shrugged. “Based on past experience, what conclusion would you reach?”
His eyes burned with shame. “I promise, Eleanor, never again.”
Eleanor stared at him in silence. This is a promise he won’t be able to keep. I wonder if it’s going to hurt him or me more when he breaks it? He gazed back, waiting anxiously for her reply.
“I suppose never doing it again is the best apology.”
She held the book towards him again; he reached for it and noticed her bruised, scraped knuckles as he did.
“You have been fighting.”
It was a statement, his voice calm; Eleanor wondered how much effort it had taken to keep it calm.
“Yes, I have. I am not going to talk about it,” she said in flat monotone, looking into his eyes and daring him to object. “I am fine, just a bruised hand...” to match my bruised head.
“Then we do not need to talk about it any further,” he agreed. She could see him forcing down his curiosity and irritation. He’s trying. Eleanor found herself smiling at him. He stood up and followed her back into the living room. Freddie was moving backwards and forwards swinging his new sword, his face full of childlike glee. There was a knock on the door, and Will went to answer it. Two women entered, struggling under the weight of the trays full of food they were carrying. They lay the food out on the long, low table in the centre of the living room. Eleanor heard her stomach rumble. Conlan heard it too.
“I ordered bread and cheese for you.”
He can be thoughtful – when he wants to be.
“I love cheese,” she said softly. He smiled at her and she felt all her remaining resentment draining away. They sat and ate, Amelia full of bubbly excitement about what they had seen. Eleanor ate far too much cheese, and it was beginning to make her feel uncomfortably full before she finally forced herself to stop.
After dinner, Amelia took Eleanor to the inn’s bathrooms, where tubs of steaming water stood waiting. Eleanor enjoyed washing the travelling off her body, allowing the hot water to relax her. She dressed in a clean short-sleeved top and strapped on her new leather cuff; it covered her wrist and went halfway up her forearm. She inspected it carefully, satisfied that it covered her brand totally. Conlan had noticed the cuff on their return to the room. It was hard to miss, but he said nothing.
At Freddie’s request Conlan showed them how to play cards with Will’s new deck; the game he taught them was a little like whist. After Freddie won six games in a row, Eleanor and Amelia started cheating, sniggering at Freddie’s distress when he lost, doing their best to look innocent as he had accused them of underhand dealing. Several games later Will called a halt by sweeping Amelia up into his arms and, without a word, carrying her into a bedroom, closing the doors firmly behind him as Amelia giggled. Eleanor caught Freddie’s look – he gave her a mischievous smirk and she rolled her eyes. Conlan offered Eleanor the other double bed, but she refused to take it, pointing out that she was small enough to sleep comfortably on one of the sofas and his six-foot-odd frame needed more space. Freddie agreed. As Conlan disappeared into the other bedroom, Freddie dropped a few cushions and a blanket onto the floor, next to the sofa where Eleanor was stretched out on, and lay down. She leaned over the sofa’s edge.
“Night, Freddie,” she whispered.
“Thank you for the sword, Eleanor.”
She smiled. “You should thank Remic, he paid for it.”
“Yes, but you bought it and you didn’t have to. I love it.”
“Good, may you win all your battles with it,” she intoned solemnly.
Freddie nodded. “I hope so.”
Eleanor smiled and lay back, sinking into the plush, comfortable cushions and thinking about the Elves, she dropped into sleep.
Eleanor’s dreams were filled with blood, death and mayhem. She woke in the early hours, unable to go back to sleep. She lay still, concentrating on calming her mind and steeling herself to face another day of pretending she was happy and excited about going after the next Talisman. Will had moved silently past her several hours later, unaware that she was awake, and was now having a whispered conversation with Conlan.
“Maybe I should stay here… I think Trey would react rather badly to meeting me again,” Will said quietly.
“No, I need you there. Besides, it was a long time ago Will, I am sure he will have forgotten you by now,” Conlan said with a reassuring growl.
“I very much doubt it,” Will murmured.
“Even if he does remember you, it is not as if you were not justified in giving him a beating. He attacked us,” Conlan said, moving to pack up his things and clearly considering the conversation over and done with.
Eleanor sat up and Will quickly hid the guilt and concern on his face. He smiled at her, before moving back towards his bedroom to wake Amelia. Eleanor shuddered as Will’s memories of Trey broke free of the place she had shoved them and tore through her mind. It took a supreme effort to force them back. Will’s right, there is no way Trey has forgotten him! Should she try to help Will, or would that just make him uncomfortable when he realised just how much of him was held in her head? Conlan had been dismissive of Will’s concern, but he clearly did not know the full story; it would be hard to change his mind and she doubted Trey would try anything with them all there. Deciding to let the matter drop, as Will seemed to have done, she leant over the sofa she was laying on and gently shook Freddie awake.
They packed little, as Will had arranged for the inn to store the rest of their luggage until they came back. Eleanor took only her satchel, the ‘Book of the Five’, her sword and her blanket. She t
ried to leave the blanket, but Conlan insisted she needed it. Too tired to argue, Eleanor nodded, slipping the blanket roll over her shoulder. Conlan seemed surprised it had been that easy.
They headed towards the main gate, and despite the early hour, Eleanor could feel the heat in the sun’s first rays; she was not looking forward to the desert. The streets were quiet – a few early traders were setting up stalls, but there was nowhere near the throng it had been the day before. Will walked up to Conlan’s side and Amelia put a hand out on Freddie and Eleanor’s arms to hold them back a little. Eleanor looked at her in confusion, the expression duplicated on Freddie’s face.
“Will wants to talk to Conlan,” she said, as if this was explanation enough.
“About what?” Freddie asked, watching the two men walking together further down the street.
“Eleanor,” Amelia said, her gaze following Freddie’s.
Eleanor stared at Amelia in horror; Will knew too much – what was he saying? Amelia patted her arm gently, her grey eyes giving her a soft sympathetic look.
“Will wants him to stop attacking you; he’s warning Conlan that he’ll intervene if he tries to hurt you again,” Amelia said by way of explanation. Eleanor felt buried under the emotions that dropped on her suddenly: gratitude, affection, anger, frustration and pity. Amelia watched all this in Eleanor’s face in confusion. I really must make more of an effort to stop everything I think and feel showing on my face!
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