by K. C. M.
He released her and she glanced down with her heart still beating fast, realizing he’d really just been wiping the mud over the inn’s insignia on her dress. Her mouth formed a little “o” of understanding and she reached up and rubbed the mud over the rest of the insignia, covering it entirely.
She looked up and caught him watching her. She nodded at him to continue.
Just as he was turning, a quick movement to the right caught her eye.
“Watch—”
Snap.
It was like falling into a bramble bush or getting paper cuts all over her body. A thousand painful pricks along her skin. Holly might have cried out except she suddenly couldn’t speak. Her vision blurred and darkened for moment. Then it cleared, but she still couldn’t move.
Like a foreigner in her own body, she watched as three handsome men stepped out of the forest.
Numbly she thought, Laney would have loved these guys.
She could even hear Laney’s voice. Sweet blazing fires, she would have said. Or…had already said.
The past and the present seemed to merge for Holly. She could hear Laney’s voice, but she also was watching the men.
They were tall, at least as tall as Connor (who also seemed frozen). They were also strong, in a lithe, quick way. They wore green toned clothes with brown, knee high boots. Several brown leather straps crisscrossed over legs, waists, chests, and arms forming leather x’s. The leather was almost like some kind of armor. Or perhaps it was too hold their wicked looking weapons. They carried as many weapons as the assassin did, she thought; knives, bows and arrows, and swords.
More distinctive than their impressive array of weapons was their features. Handsome suddenly seemed inadequate. They had sharp, pointed features covered in clear, pale skin. Straight noses over perfectly formed lips. Corn silk blonde hair spilled over high foreheads and overly arched eyebrows that complimented their sharp cheekbones. Their eyes…Holly started. Their eyes were brilliant green, glittering dangerously.
A chill swept over Holly. Their handsome features had seemed almost vaguely familiar, but it was the green eyes. These men looked eerily similar to the assassin. Except Connor’s hair was black as night and several strands had come loose from his queue. The newcomers had their blonde hair pulled back in perfect, elegant styles that complimented their sharp faces. Classy, Holly thought. Connor’s skin looked overly tanned, almost swarthy, next to the pale perfection of these men. What’s more, Connor’s face was a bit more rugged, his cheeks almost hollow and his upper lip and chin covered in a rough, day’s growth. These men were clean-shaven and they didn’t look…starved and haunted the way the assassin did.
A pang of realization hit Holly and for just a moment, she felt sympathy.
She had to remind herself that Connor was an assassin, he killed people, and he’d very nearly left her to die multiple times…of course, he never actually had let her die. But that was beside the point, wasn’t it?
The three men circled the assassin, ignoring Holly as they exclaimed over the darker version of themselves. Holly’s ears rang, but if she concentrated, she could make out what the men were saying.
“It doesn’t feel so good to be caught in a trap of your own making, does it, Dark One?” One of the handsome men mocked and he reached out, flicking the assassin’s forehead.
“Look at this! A named blade,” Another of the men reached and slid free one of the wickedly curved knives that the assassin carried. “Perhaps we ought to use this on him as well.”
Holly’s insides squirmed when the three men laughed and the one holding the knife reached out and slowly drew the tip of the knife up the side of Connor’s face. Blood welled and trickled from the cut.
Suddenly she realized one of the men was staring at her. He seemed to know that she saw him for a smile spread his full lips, revealing a mouth of pearly white teeth. “I’d always heard your kind live alone, Dark One.”
“Well, well,” The elf holding Connor’s knife also smiled and he tapped the blade against Connor’s nose. “So kind of you to share everything with us. I think we’ll particularly enjoy your little pet.” Holly’s stomach roiled and if she’d been able to move, she was certain she would have hurled. The knife-wielder nodded at the man close to Holly.
He reached out and caught a curl of her hair between his fingers. Then he suddenly wrapped her hair around his fist and yanked. Unable to control herself, she fell forward into the man. He caught her laughing.
She fought, trying desperately to struggle, but it was like her brain couldn’t connect with her body.
All the sudden a sharp pain slid across her ribs.
The man dropped her onto the ground and she caught a glimpse of a blood tipped knife in his hands.
He’d cut her. Not deep, but still painful.
These men were going to torture them, Holly realized. What sort of beasts were they? Who were they? How did they know the assassin?
“Lorn, you carry the girl.” The knife-thieving leader directed the man who had dropped Holly. “We’ll handle the Dark One until we can get a hold of the Light Elves. They’ll be overjoyed to meet you, Dark One.”
Connor was furious with himself.
He never made mistakes, never got caught, but in the last few days he’d been surprised twice.
It was unforgivable.
Luckily, Forest Elves were foolish creatures. It was unwise to use paralytic poisons against a master. Connor had spent years being poisoned by his teacher to build up immunities.
He had held perfectly still, lulling the elves into thinking they were safe, but then Lorn had cut the maid. Now, as Lorn grumbled about having to carry the girl and the other two moved to take hold of Connor’s arms, he channeled all his anger.
Swift as quicksilver, he caught the leader’s wrist, yanked him forward, and drove his other fist into the elf’s throat. The elf collapsed onto his knees, choking for breath. His windpipe was crushed. Connor deftly snatched his knife out of the man’s hand and moved on to the second elf. This elf had drawn his own knives, but Connor stepped right next to him, his hand slipping between the man’s defenses to slide the knife between his ribs. He, too, crumpled down to the ground, a look of shock on his perfectly handsome face. Calmly, with eyes like cold green reflecting pools, Connor turned to face the final elf. Lorn, was his name.
Likely sensing the end of his life was near, Lorn had yanked the maid in front of him, knife to her throat. “I’ll kill her!”
The tremor and the pitch of his voice conveyed fear instead threat. Connor evaluated him in one quick sweep with his eyes.
“That would be unwise.” He replied coldly.
The knife trembled in the elf’s hand. A thin trickle of blood slipped down the girl’s neck and Connor noted that the cut across her ribs wasn’t bleeding too terribly.
“Just stay back.” Lorn’s voice was layered in worry and fear.
In a smooth, powerful motion, Connor threw the knife. It embedded in the man’s throat. Despite being frozen by the poison, the girl’s eyes reflected horror. And it was horrible. The elf crumpled with a gurgle. Connor stepped forward and caught the girl as her body started to fall forward.
With one arm around the maid’s waist, he reached down and plucked his knife free. Emotionless, he wiped and sheathed his blade, then hauled the girl over his shoulder. It would take awhile for the poison to wear off in her and when it did, she’d be nauseous.
He’d rather that not happen in Wood Elf territory.
Really, her inability to move was a blessing. She’d complain less about his carrying her.
Breaking into a swift run, he threaded through trees. With every long stride, he swept up shadows in his wake. He didn’t much care to be caught unawares a third time. Once they were closer to the river, they began to pass the occasional Wood Elf home.
At first the buildings were barely noticeable. They were extensions of the trees themselves. Stairs that wound around a tree, leading up to a small, modest home
in the branches. A doorway leading into the large interior of a giant trunk. The closer they progressed to the river, the more elaborate the houses became until they were sweeping, elegant structures amid trees that towered above like small mountains. Here, next to the river, this was where the Wood’s magic was strongest. This was the heart of all Wood Elf lives.
Further up the river were the towering structures that the lords and king of the Forest Elves had built. Connor avoided those, staying downriver. Although he didn’t care for the Forest Elves, he had no wish to remove their leaders. That would draw far too much attention. It would also start a war, he thought mildly amused. But his amusement was that of a hunted man, one who was trying to stay desperately one step ahead of death.
Surrounded by shadows, the assassin and maid passed unnoticed to the river. Once there, he found the ancient tree with steps twisting around its trunk. He hurried up. There were so many steps that by the time he reached the top, even he, who had trained with the elite, was a bit out of breath. There was no time for rest, though.
He ran across a shaky, old platform to where a decaying bridge waited.
Once, the elfish town had spread for miles up and down both sides of the river. Down below, the towns had connected through boats while up above they connected through these wooden planked bridges. During the war, the east side of the river had been wiped out. Many of the bridges had been cut to dissuade invaders from crossing.
Recently, a few elves had moved to the other side of the river to reclaim the land for the forest. They used boats and hadn’t bothered with the old bridges, probably forgetting that many of them were even still there. These bridges were left alone, perfect for an assassin.
Careful where he placed his feet, Connor started the long journey across.
On his shoulder, the girl stirred. The poison was wearing off.
Connor quickly found a spot on the bridge where there were several secure planks linked together. He set her down, making sure she was on her side. Crouching behind her, he carefully gathered her hair back from her face. Just a few precious seconds later, her body convulsed and she threw up. Unsure how well the noise would carry, he sent his senses along the shadows. He was fairly certain they were high enough that no one on the ground would hear them and there wasn’t anyone close by at this height. A few owls and other birds, several bats, and a lot of bugs, but no living people were within hearing distance. Still, it was better safe than sorry. It was a relief when the shadows whispered of no unusual stirrings among the elves far below.
He glanced down at the miserable girl. Her face had gone pale and her eyes were no longer lit with energy. Instead, she had them closed and was trying to breathe slowly through her nose. Every so often a horrible fit shook her body.
He bent so his mouth was close to her ear. “Let your body get it out.” He advised softly.
For a second her jaw tightened and then she gave in. This time when her body convulsed, she turned further on her side and retched on a growing pile of bile on the planks. He kept a loose hold on her hair. When her body shuddered and she nearly rolled on top of the vomit, he caught her shoulder and eased her back onto her side.
After a moment she groaned, “I want to die.”
Despite focusing on their surroundings, he spared her an amused smile and replied softly, “Once the poison is out of your system, the effects will not linger.”
She shuddered and suddenly heaved again. Afterwards, she spit to clear out her mouth. With a tolerance that was unusual for his kind, he offered her his water flask.
“Thank you.” She said hoarsely.
After she swooshed the water, she went to spit it over the side of the bridge, but he stopped her. “On the wood.” He directed. “The elves will notice a splash out of place.”
She was surprisingly obedient, though afterwards she grumbled, “This is so embarrassing.”
“Natural.” He corrected. At her glare, he shrugged. “It’s just the effect of the drug.”
“How do you know so much about it?”
He glanced over the edge, checking on the river and city far below.
After a moment, her voice took on an impatient edge. “Well? How do you know?”
He made no reply. Instead, he asked, “How are your ribs?”
She looked blank for a second and then she winced. “They sting.”
“The knife he used wasn’t poisoned,” He offered. “We’ll clean and wrap them when we’re further away.” He helped her stand and said softly, “We have to move on, now.”
She took a step and then planted her feet. “What did they mean when they called you the Dark One?”
Connor thought about dragging her along. He wished the drug hadn’t worn off so quickly. Then again…what was he doing with her anyways? Why was he taking her with him? Why was he keeping her safe?
A thousand thoughts, mostly questions, flitted through his mind as he regarded her stonily.
Her lips pressed together stubbornly. “I want answers.”
Companions are troublesome, he thought. Especially when they are as incompetent and naïve as her.
“If you’d like to go down and ask them or stay up here and wait for them to find you, be my guest.” He finally said shortly. He let go of her elbow and strode off.
She followed, catching an edge of his cloak and trying to stop him. “You can’t just walk away every time I ask a question that you don’t fancy answering!”
It was pointless to answer. He already knew what he could and could not do.
“Blast it, this is not going to work if you won’t tell me anything! You were the one who asked me to travel with you.”
In a flash, he had grasped her forearms and pushed her up against the precarious rope that held up the bridge. She blanched and gulped, trembling. Her eyes grew wide. He studied them analytically. The green circle amid brown was strangely obvious in the dim lighting. Her pupils were dilated with fear.
“Understand this, maid. I did not ask you to travel with me. You chose to travel with me even though you knew nothing. I am under no obligation to enlighten you. Furthermore, I am under no obligation to save your life. You cannot expect anything from me because I owe you nothing.”
He released her and turned, continuing on his way across the bridge.
“I have a name. I’m not just ‘maid’.”
Connor didn’t stop.
Rubbing her forearms where he’d grasped her, the maid followed him. “My name is Holly.” She informed, her tone biting.
6 Hide and Seek
Holly felt awful. Her body was freezing and then would flash a fiery hot. Every so often, her stomach convulsed and she’d throw up a little. Unwilling to swallow the vomit and unwilling to let the assassin see her shame, she would carefully and sneakily try to spit the vomit out.
Of course, what was really bothering her was the fact that she was in this situation at all and that she had no skills or ability to help her change her situation. The best she could do was walk away and her chances of survival in the magic forest were nil. No, her best option was to keep traveling with the assassin, for now. But…she’d figure something out. She had to.
Letting her frustration fuel her body, she ignored her shaky limbs and followed him.
After awhile her anger died out a bit.
Quietly, but somehow knowing he’d hear her regardless, she said, “You may owe me nothing, but you have saved my life several times. I’m grateful for that.”
Ahead of her the assassin snorted softly. “Your gratitude is not payment, but I accept anyways.” He cast her a look she couldn’t read over his shoulder. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” She grumbled.
After what seemed like forever, they reached the other side of the bridge.
“That has to be the largest river I’ve ever seen.” Holly remarked quietly, staring down at the rushing white capped rapids far below.
Connor moved up next to her and as his arm brus
hed against hers, she noticed that the top of her head barely came to his shoulder. “It’s the largest in the known world.”
She bit her lip. “It’s beautiful.”
He waited. “But?”
She sought for the right word. “But…terrifying. It feels powerful.”
He shot her an appraising look. “It is very powerful. This river runs through the heart of the forest. It’s laced with all sorts of magic that could easily kill a mortal.”
Holly snatched her opportunity. “Could it kill you?”