by T D Cloud
Slowly, the sounds of Sorin’s log splitting faded away, leaving only the far off song of the ocean and the rustling of leaves behind. Khouri knelt in the soft dirt when he came across toadstools and fungi here and there, and when he saw some- thing he recognized, he plucked it from the soil and settled it in his shirt. Long as it was, it made a good pouch for carrying things.
As he steadily filled his pouch, he was met once more the by the overwhelming contentment of this place. At times it felt almost too good to be true. It was warm here, full of interesting food and sights, and with Sorin comfortable and off guard, it truly felt like a place Khouri could call home too. There was no risk here, really. Not like there was on the road. Things were so spread out that he hardly needed to worry about being seen.
If only Navidae were here, he thought, picking up another speckled birds egg of a toadstool. Then it would be perfect.
Khouri smiled at himself, shaking his head. He was going to make himself sad if he ruminated on things like that. He’d see Navidae again in a few weeks, and he’d have so many fun things to show him from this place. Shells, sand, the jars of jam Mastha let him set aside to take home with him. He’d learned a few recipes too, thanks to Mastha’s dogged teaching. It’d be great. Navidae would be so surprised—
A branch snapped somewhere behind Khouri, startling him from his thoughts. He peered around, fists tightening in the fabric of his shirt when he didn’t see anything or anyone.
“Sorin?” he called out. Had he changed his mind about fooling around? “Is that you?”
Nothing answered him. Perspiration teased the back of his neck, something off about the feeling of the forest. There was… almost a weight behind the silence now, one that didn’t feel natural at all.
Snap. Crunch.
What was that? Khouri stood absolutely still and listened with all his might. Were those footsteps or just the wind playing tricks on him? Sorin wouldn’t try to sneak up on him. One of the kids? No… They had to have Sorin take them to the orchard when it was picking time, so they weren’t allowed be out here on their own.
Maybe it was time for him to head back to Sorin.
Khouri held tight to his shirt-pouch and looked at the sun hiding through the trees. He’d been walking west for awhile now, and the house was back north, wasn’t it? He reoriented himself and took off at a quick clip, ears tuned to any sound that might not belong in the forest chatter coloring the air.
He was probably just being silly. Sorin would no doubt give him that look and say he thought he told him to wander, that he wasn’t done just yet. Khouri smiled despite himself. He’d found plenty of mushrooms for dinner, though, so it would be fine. If Sorin thought him paranoid, then that was okay. There were worse things to be in this life, and after the last time he’d been snatched unawares, Sorin really didn’t have any room to talk when it came to being cautious—
“Khouri Lucifin. You’re a hard one to find.”
Khouri froze mid-step. His heart hammered in his chest as he turned around, searching the forest for any sign of another person—another Drow. That hadn’t been surface-speak.
Someone from the Duskriven was here, and they knew who he was.
“Maybe that’s because I’m in no mood to be found,” Khouri said carefully, slipping into his native tongue with only the barest hiccup. It’d been months since he’d used anything but the surface language. Reverting felt odd now. “Show yourself. What do you want?”
There came a laugh, melodic among the trees. A woman? Khouri tried to track its origin, failing until the one laughing decided to step out from the brush and into the clearing properly. He wasn’t surprised to find it was in fact another Drow and a full one at that. A wide brimmed hat sat atop cropped pale white hair, the wavering flickers of a glamour disappearing like a heat haze as she smiled. A knife was strapped to her thigh, her gloves studded at the knuckles with metal plates. A sword hung from her back, and by the grip of the thing, it looked well-used.
“Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” she offered, bowing in the way a lowborn would before a noble. “I do hope you don’t begrudge my intrusion. I’ve come bearing news from the Lord Navidae Marrowick.”
Khouri narrowed his eyes. Pretty speech for someone so heavily armed. “I don’t recognize you,” he said slowly, kicking himself for not thinking he needed his knife in a sleepy little place like this. “You aren’t the usual messenger.” Navidae mostly sent humans or deep-Gnomes for these things. He’d never sent a Drow before and certainly never during the day.
The woman smiled a sharp toothed grin. “I couldn’t imagine why you would,” she said, leaning against the tree at her back. “The Lord Navidae has me on the surface quite often for his regular orders. I’m afraid I’m not at a high enough standing to pay the Marrowick household visits for more than just business.”
Trust was a hard thing to give after the sort of things Khouri had lived through, but Navidae had said he would send hunters for updates, and he did in fact employ people for just the thing this woman spoke of. Navidae had been sending so many letters recently. Maybe… Well, maybe her current job coincided with the location?
“If Navidae sent you, then what happened to our usual liaisons?” Khouri demanded. “You’re not the usual hunter he sends.”
She shrugged. “You’re hard to find. I’m good at what I do.
The Lord Marrowick knew you would react unkindly to a messenger outside of the usual agreed-upon schedule, and this time, he wanted to be assured you responded.” Her teeth were sharp when she took him in. “I suppose he thought me better suited to handle you should you respond poorly. You’ve been taking your time answering him.”
Khouri held tightly to the edge of his shirt, glaring at the ground. That definitely sounded like Navidae. “Okay, well,” he muttered, letting his guard lower. “What does he want that’s so important?” It had only been a couple weeks since he’d last found the time to send a letter back, and really, what was wrong with that? Navidae hadn’t made it seem as if anything were really amiss. Just the general greetings, the expected requests he come home soon for a visit. Sure, things had felt a bit… off when he’d read the last few letters, but Navidae just missed him. He just wanted him to come home.
He watched the woman reach into her hip satchel, wondering if Navidae’s longing could have become so strong that he couldn’t help but ask again, only this time with a bit of force behind it.
Out came a rolled up sheet of parchment, grey and wrapped with the familiar red cord Navidae always used for his letters. The woman walked towards him with her hand outstretched, and Khouri closed the distance between them, taking it to see what all of this was about. He’d only just read the latest letter the day before last, but there was something about seeing Navidae’s handwriting again that never failed to make him feel eager.
“So clingy,” Khouri murmured under his breath, opening the letter in a rush, jerking it roughly to unfurl it one-handed. “He’s always like this, you know. Can’t bear to go without me for any length of time.”
“You don’t say?” the woman mused, standing a little too close.
Khouri glanced at her for a second, furrowing his brow. “Yes,” he said, looking back down at the letter. “He acts like he can’t remember the time before… before I came to him…” Khouri paused, staring at the paper. “What is the meaning of this?” The letter was blank, not even a signature to be found—
Arms as strong as iron bars seized Khouri around the middle before he could even manage to ask if she had given him the wrong letter. Mushrooms went flying as the woman heaved him off his feet and onto her shoulder. “Sorry about this,” she grunted. “Lord Marrowick’s orders.”
Khouri’s blood ran cold, but the anger hit hard enough to warm him right back up as he realized what was happening. He struggled immediately, fighting against the woman’s hands and kicking at anything he could reach. “Let me go!” he shouted, nearly knocking the hat off her head. “I won’t go ba
ck down! Sorin! Sor—!”
“Shut up!”
“You shut up! Sorin!”
The woman let out a cry of pain when Khouri managed to cuff her chin with his flailing foot. “Why, you little brat!” she snarled, grabbing at his ankle with a hand. She yanked him off her shoulder, and Khouri dropped to the ground like a rock, the air knocked out of him. “I’ll tie you up! Don’t think I won’t!”
Khouri kicked at her face, smashing in her nose before she could evade. “Fucking try it!”
Rearing back, the woman clutched at her face in one hand, blood pouring from between her fingers. Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t let it stop her. She drew back her fist and sent it swinging, punching the ground as Khouri dodged with a yelp.
“Sorin!” Khouri screamed, scrambling to his feet as quickly as he could when he saw her go for the knife at her thigh. If he had his own he could take her, but she was bigger, angrier, and armed enough that this wasn’t even close to approaching fair.
“Stop fucking fighting!” the woman snarled, lunging for him again. “I’m not supposed to hurt you, but I fucking will if—”
Before she could finish, her gaze moved somewhere to the right of Khouri. The sound of snapping branches rose above their scuffle. Her eyes went wide, her mouth fell open in a gape, and Khouri saw the bright glare of pale blond hair streak past him as Sorin charged in with his ax already swinging. The woman let out a shriek as she threw herself to the side, the knife flying from her hand.
“Inden’s fucking eyes!” the woman screeched, leaping away from Khouri as if burned. “I yield! Stop swinging that, you troll!”
“Then get the fuck away from him!” Sorin ordered, his grip on the ax as tight as ever. Khouri quickly scrambled to his feet and dove behind the man, panting and aching vaguely from where he had been grabbed. His shirt was torn now, his bloomers caked with dirt and grass.
“You ruined my clothes,” he muttered darkly, glaring daggers at the woman glowering at them both. “Ruin hers, Sorin. Fair is fair.”
For a moment, it seemed Sorin would do just that. He took a step closer to the woman, ax in hand, glare in place, but a breeze blew through and jostled the hat on the woman’s head.
Sorin stopped in his tracks, his jaw dropping. “Alacrita? What happened to your hair?”
Khouri stared up at Sorin and tried to catch his breath. “You know this lady?” he asked, taking a step back when the woman, Alacrita, grinned through her bloody nose.
“Glad to see I made an impression,” she bit, dabbing at her nose with the wrist of her glove. “I cut it awhile ago. Needed a change. You’re looking as good as ever. Can’t say I feel the same.”
She leveled Khouri with a glare that he returned tenfold, lifting his hand to make a rude gesture that he was sure Sorin wouldn’t understand. “Maybe if you didn’t try to fucking kidnap me, you’d be feeling better, Alacrita,” he spat, saying her name like a curse.
“Kidnap you?” Sorin muttered, looking between the two of them. “That wasn’t just a fight?”
“Do you think I just fight with any Drow I come across?” Khouri demanded. “She threw me over her shoulder after tricking me with some fake note from Navidae!” He rounded on Alacrita, his hands balled up into fists at his side. “I bet you don’t even work for him! Who the fuck sent you? How did you find us?!”
A heavy hand fell to his shoulder, holding him back. Sorin had a pained frown on his face. “She does work for Navidae, Khouri,” he said lowly. “She’s not lying about that.”
Khouri furrowed his brow. “How would you know something like that?” he demanded. “How do you know her at all?” Alacrita began to laugh. It drew both of their attentions back onto her. She’d only just gotten her nose to stop bleeding, but it was bent at a worrisome angle from the break. She gripped the bridge between her fingers and set it with a sickening crack, grunting when it began to bleed anew. “He knows me because I’m the one who gave him the contract to bring you back to the Lord the last time you went above,” she bit acerbically. “Or did he never bother telling you?”
Khouri scowled. He crossed his arms, hating how she knew the answer to that already. “Shut up and tell me why you’re here,” he demanded. “If you really know Navi, then what does he want?” Something had to be wrong, right? If this was just another ploy by Navidae to drag him back down, Khouri was going to march back to the Duskriven himself and show Navidae what that kind of distrust earned him.
Sorin settled his hand on Khouri’s shoulder, reminding him to remain calm. He looked to Alacrita, staring her down until she finally answered. She scoffed first, of course. What a piece of work.
“Your wonderful Lord has gotten himself into a spot of trouble,” she explained, dabbing at her bleeding nose with the side of her hand. “Don’t ask me for details; he didn’t tell me shit. All I was told was to bring you back by any means possible as quickly as I physically could.” She sneered at Khouri. “Obviously, I didn’t anticipate the rumors spoken of you to be so true.”
Rumors? Khouri burned to know what was said of him to people like this, but he held his tongue. There were far more pressing things to discuss right now. “If you hear so many rumors, then tell me what they say?” he demanded. “Don’t act like you don’t know more than that. Everyone knows everyone’s business down there.”
Alacrita bristled, and Sorin, bless his heart, just tried to keep up. “You break my nose and then say I’m holding back?” She let out a bubble of disbelieving laughter. “What a delight you must be to live with. Lord Navidae gave me my orders, and I’ve done what I was tasked to do.” She spat out a mouthful of blood and bared her teeth. “As far as I’m concerned, my job’s done here.”
“What— You can’t just leave!” Khouri tried to stomp up to her, but Sorin held him in place easily. He rounded on the man and glared up at Sorin. “Let me go! Don’t just let her leave!”
“Calm down, Khouri,” Sorin grumbled, pulling Khouri behind him so he could approach Alacrita alone. The woman was dusting off her hat ruefully, side eyeing him with a critical air. “Come on, Alacrita. You can tell us more than that. You came all this way. Make it worth it.”
To Khouri’s horror, that seemed to get through to her but certainly not in the way he thought it might. Alacrita grinned a bloody smile, her gaze raking over Sorin appreciatively. “Make it worth it?” she crooned, somehow managing to look seductive with a rapidly bruising nose. “Why, Hunter Tolgrath. I hardly thought you had that in you. Guess you really do like Drow.
Tempting, tempting, but I think you have something I’d prefer my bed-mates without. But still… Mmm, tempting.”
In an instant, Khouri wrapped himself around Sorin’s waist, baring his teeth threateningly at Alacrita. Sorin stiffened and sighed, ruffling Khouri’s hair as he rolled his eyes. “Seriously,” he deadpanned. “Give us something here.”
Alacrita took her time taking in Sorin, licking her lips in a way that made Khouri hiss. She laughed when he did that, rolling her eyes as she shoved her hat back on her head. “I’ll tell you one thing since I really don’t know as much as you seem to think I do: the Council is abuzz with talk of him. Talk of laws broken and prominent Families at odds with him. Naturally, that discord filters down to the streets.” She shouldered her bag and gave Khouri a parting glare and Sorin a lingering once-over. “If I were you, and thank Inden I’m not, I’d take it seriously.
Milord certainly is.”
For the second time that day, Khouri had to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at someone. “If that's it, then you can get the fuck out of here already,” he hissed, thankful for Sorin’s hand to hold him back. He wasn’t sure what he could even do with just his bare fists, but he certainly was in a mood to see for himself just how much damage he could cause. “Go tell him you passed on the message. We’ll follow when we follow.”
Alacrita rolled her eyes. “See that you do,” she said, disappearing into the trees. “I’d hate to have to come back here again.”
Khouri seethed. What a terrible person she was. He’d have to complain to Navidae about her once he got back, if he didn’t forget.
He was broken from his musings by Sorin ruffling his hair. “Come on, brat,” Sorin said. “What’s our plan now?” “Plan?” Khouri wrinkled his nose. He looked at the ground,
nudging a fallen mushroom with his foot. “What do you mean,
plan?”
Sorin raised a brow. “Are we going back to the Duskriven? You heard her. Apparently, it’s serious enough that he sent her to bring you back.” He looked off into the trees in the direction Alacrita had gone. “You know Navidae better than I do. I think he’s lying, but I also don’t know how things works down there. How do you feel about it? What’s your gut say?”
“My gut says I don’t want to go back yet,” Khouri answered, words clipped and just a little hurt.
The sky darkened a bit, which Khouri felt was a little too on the nose for a moment like this. He shivered, instinctively leaning closer to Sorin. How was he meant to feel? Worry crept up his throat like bile, sharp and bitter. But there was still a bit of doubt. Would Navidae lie just to get him home before the allotted time had passed?
Deep in his heart he knew he would, but not like this. He wouldn’t worry Khouri like this just to see him again. He’d known those letters from before sounded off. He just hadn’t…
He just hadn’t imagined how bad things really were to make Navidae try something like this again.
“It’s your call, Khouri,” Sorin murmured, embracing him like he knew how hard this was for him. His fingers carded through his hair, his lips pressing kisses to the top of Khouri’s head. “Do you think it’s real?”