A soft touch on his shoulder startled Valanandir awake. A hand clamped over his mouth, preventing him from making any sound. Iadrawyn’s face in front of him gradually became clear to his sleep-fogged eyes. Once she saw she had his attention, she pulled her hand away, putting a finger to her lips.
She wanted him to be silent, but she didn’t seem nervous or panicked. Was anyone nearby? He jerked his head toward the entrance of the shelter to indicate his unspoken question. Iadrawyn shook her head, but put her finger to her lips once more before taking both index fingers and placing them against her upper lip, pointing downward, like fangs.
A chill ran down Valanandir’s spine. Drakhal. If one was hunting them, they must be as silent as possible. Darkness was the natural element of the drakhalu. As Iadrawyn settled down to sleep, the only sound was Valanandir’s own breathing, which seemed loud to him. He strained for the sound of anyone outside, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He heard nothing unusual. A breeze whispered through the trees, and an owl hooted somewhere nearby.
Valanandir forced himself to relax. Although he wasn’t as familiar with the woods as Iadrawyn, he knew the creatures of the forest would have become silent if an intruder were near. He forced his breathing to slow and relaxed against the wall of their shelter. As he calmed himself, he began to notice other sounds, such as the almost inaudible rhythm of Iadrawyn’s breathing. He could barely make out her sleeping form in the darkness of the shelter. He felt the surge of strange feelings that were starting to become familiar every time he looked at her.
What did they mean? Although they had only known each other for days, it seemed like a lifetime had passed since he had been shipwrecked. Not for the first time, he found himself missing his home.
Arindaria almost seemed like a dream. Valanandir wondered if he would ever see the island again. Doubtless, his people assumed him dead, along with the rest of the elves who had formed the doomed expedition. Although he had no regrets about where he was now, he did wish Numril was around to talk to. He missed his friend’s steady presence, and wondered what he would make of Iadrawyn.
The first few hours of Valanandir’s shift passed uneventfully. Although he strained to hear signs of passage, the forest seemed quiet. His original nervousness eventually gave way to boredom. He caught himself nodding off a few times and forced his eyes to stay open. Beside him, Iadrawyn seemed deeply asleep.
Valanandir’s eyelids were growing heavy once more and his head was beginning to droop, when some small sound in the distance jerked him back to alertness. He stayed perfectly still, listening. A long, unnatural silence followed for several moments. Valanandir began to think he might have imagined the disturbance when he heard something even closer. It was the sound of footsteps and voices. His hand snaked over to grasp Iadrawyn’s shoulder, gently shaking her awake while the other pulled out his knife.
Iadrawyn awoke quickly, sitting up to listen with him. The footsteps drew closer and the voices became clear enough to understand.
“They cannot have made it this far from the village.” It was a male voice, speaking the Elven Tongue. Valanandir looked across the shelter to see Iadrawyn stiffen.
“Eruvalion thinks she might have. Besides, you know she spent all her time in the woods. She always was a little odd, if you ask me.” The second voice belonged to a woman.
“Up until he brought in the prisoner, you wouldn’t have given Eru’s opinion a second thought. The man is obsessed, and more than a little off balance where my sister is concerned. Why are we even listening to him?”
“Your father and brother seem to agree with him.”
“Yes, well this whole thing has made everyone a little off balance. I still don’t see why we need to search all the way out here. We’ve already sent a messenger to the drakhalu. They’re much more suited to this kind of hunt than we are. Even Iadrawyn would be hard-pressed to elude them.”
“Eruvalion says—”
“I don’t care what Eruvalion says! We’re far from the village, and it will be light again soon. Do you want to be caught out here when that happens?”
There was a pause as the elf woman considered. The male voice continued, showing no mercy.
“Very well. Since you are so determined to impress Eruvalion, you stay out here by yourself and keep looking until the darkness fades. I’m going back to the village while I can still see.” There was some rustling as he presumably turned to leave.
“Wait! You can’t leave me alone out here… Who knows what might happen when the light returns and we’re this far from the village!” There was more rustling as the second speaker ran after the first. After a few moments, both were gone and silence returned.
Valanandir looked over at Iadrawyn to see her reaction. She seemed lost in thought. Eventually, she noticed his inquiring gaze. She gave him an apologetic look, shook her head and lay back down to sleep. She was right. There still could be drakhalu out there. It was too dangerous to speak. He just hoped she would tell him what was bothering her when the light returned.
Light Chasers (The World of Lasniniar Book 0) Page 14