Quietly, she set the buckets down and hurried to the stairway where she leaned against the wall and listened through the boards.
“Balderdash!” Mister Norne snarled. “What sort of folks do ye take us for?”
“I take you for a businessman, Master Norne, nothing more,” Lord Leoren returned. “You seem to have no interest in Tellie’s welfare, but in how she benefits you.”
“How dare ye talk to us about that brat? Why, if it wasn’t for us, she’d be back at the orphanage—”
“What would you sell her for?” Leoren asked abruptly.
Tellie choked on her surprise and clamped her hands to her mouth, trying to keep in the coughs that convulsed her shoulders.
Dead silence hung in the room. Then Mister Norne spoke, trembling with eagerness and disbelief. “What sort of price would you be offering? Mind you, the girl’s a good worker, and I wouldn’t part with her for nothing less than—”
Tellie’s mind stilled. Of course. Of course, she’d known they’d never really cared about her, but it was one thing to know it and another to hear it. She thought she’d stopped caring about their opinion of her, but apparently not, because it sliced across her heart like the fine edge of paper.
“I have no interest in buying Tellie like a mere trinket,” the elf interrupted. “I was simply of the opinion that you would be willing to sell her on the first good offer you received. I see now I was right.”
Sputtering issued from the innkeeper, but he had no time to speak before a new voice spoke, this time Casara. “We will not buy Tellie. But we will buy her freedom from you.”
Her stomach twisting at the incredible words, Tellie wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. She barely had the courage to listen more.
There was a snort. “Where will she go?” Mister Norne snarled. “My wife and I, we’re all she’s got. She’d live on the streets.”
Stung by the truth of the words, the girl waited in breathless suspense.
“We will offer her a home with us,” Leoren answered.
It was all Tellie could do to keep from screaming out loud.
“And if she don’t want to? Eh? What about that?”
After a moment, Casara called, “Tellie, come out from behind that wall.”
Tellie stiffened in disbelief. She hadn’t made any noise, had she? How had they known…? Embarrassed, she crept around the corner, staring at the floor, hands folded behind her.
“If you would like to remain here, Tellie,” Casara said. “We shall compensate Master Norne for treating you well and will check on you regularly to make sure of it.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “But if you would like…Leoren and I wish to offer our home to you. To take you back with us to Aselvia.”
Home. Their home. Did they mean…like family?
“What in tarnation fer?” Mister Norne thundered. “What has she got for ye? Why don’t ye traipse around takin’ in all the little street rats?”
“Perhaps we will,” Leoren said saltily, casting an irritated glance his way. “But we’ve been led specifically to Tellie.”
“What do you say, Tellie?” Casara asked. “If you need time to think, we can return in two weeks or less, after our king has been honored properly.”
Stunned, Tellie stepped back, bracing herself against the wall. They wanted her with them? It was a dream come true. She’d always dreamed of someone coming to steal her away, she’d just never pictured them as elves. Tears welling up in her eyes, she gasped, “I don’t need to think! I want to come with you now!”
Leoren turned his gaze back to the innkeeper. “If there is any paper that signifies your custody over Tellie, assign them over to her in exchange for this.” He reached into his belt and pulled out a small pouch.
Its content wasn’t hard to guess from Mister Norne’s reaction. Reeling as if drunk, he staggered back to a room and came out with a few crumbled papers. Taking a pen, he slashed ink across the bottom of the page and handed it to Tellie.
She was half afraid that her trembling hands would tear the paper in two as she took it and smoothed it out on a nearby table. Taking the pen, she scrawled out on the bottom line, under Mister Norne’s blot, the only words she knew how to write.
Tellie Carlson.
After she was finished, Leoren took the page and inspected it. “It seems official.” He handed it back to Tellie with a smile. “There. You belong to no one but yourself.”
The statement was unbelievable, thrilling, but sadness suddenly stung her heart. But I want to belong, she thought. I want to belong to someone. A family. “Do I just come with you now?” she asked.
Casara’s face softened. “Fetch your things.”
No more encouragement needed, Tellie whirled and bolted up the stairs, the rickety steps screeching under her excited bounds. Her door crashed against the wall as she burst through it.
The little room seemed almost prim, as if it wanted to look its best at parting. Unexpected pain darted through her heart, taking her breath away. She sat down beside the cabinet, her hands hovering at the drawer. The room had become dear without her knowledge, always serving as a refuge from her troubles.
Here she stood at the threshold of a future greater than she ever imagined, and now she felt afraid. This is ridiculous, she growled. Stop it. But what would happen when she walked out that door, down those steps? What would happen now that the paper to her freedom was in her hand?
This was not the first time she’d found herself before an unknown beginning. She remembered the terror as a child being placed in an orphanage. And then later learning she was to move to a new home in Denji. Each time, terror. Each time fear of the unknown.
But this…this would make everything better. Of course it would. Repeating this over and over in her mind, she stuffed a few extra changes of clothes into a sack and laid her book on top of them.
She descended the stairs much slower, still trying to ignore the growing fear. You know what to expect here and can live with it, one voice muttered in her head. But they were willing to sell me. My life could be so much more than this, her heart argued back.
When she saw the elves waiting by the door and ignoring Mister Norne—who ignored them less skillfully—some of the fear retreated again. “King Rendar does not mind?” she said hesitantly.
Exchanging a look with her husband, Casara answered. “Tellie, there is something you need to know. King Rendar died last night.”
Tellie’s mouth dropped open. The man had looked old, weary, and ill, but dead? So soon? “But…but I wanted to talk with him more,” she whispered.
“More?” Mister Norne exclaimed. “Blimey, ye mean ye met these devils ‘afore? Ye’re a curse, and I’m glad to be rid of ya.” He stumped out of the room, muttering.
Leoren glared after him, and if looks could kill, then the innkeeper just barely escaped with his life.
The elves guided Tellie out onto the porch. She stood quite still, papers clutched to chest. Not until the crisp morning wind kissed her stinging eyes did she realize how close she was to crying.
The rest of the elves stood upon the grass waiting for them, the horses prancing by their sides. One of the horses carried a long, blanket-wrapped bundle upon it. Tellie stared, her gut guessing what it was before her mind caught up.
Casara followed her gaze, eyes saddening. “I wish there was a more honorable way we could carry him,” she said.
“Elves really do die,” Tellie whispered.
A sad laugh turned into a sigh. “They do.”
“Well, yes, you told me, but he didn’t look ready to die. Is this how it usually happens?”
“I do not believe any of the earth elves, the natives of Aselvia, have yet died of old age, so I cannot say for certain,” Leoren admitted. “Rendar’s celestial light caused him to be nigh immortal throughout life for it healed any harm. We can only guess that the more this light is taxed, the quicker it is used up. He spent much of his younger life in turmoil. And he has ever bee
n waning since the loss of his son.” His voice nearly broke at the end, and he took a deep breath.
She stared up into his eyes, appalled that something so foreign as an elf could show such familiar grief.
“We must go now, Tellie,” he said. “Our people must know. You will ride with Casara.”
With a slow nod, she took one step down the porch and towards the horse that would carry her away into a future more uncertain and more wondrous than any she had dreamed. And it was then that her destiny was interrupted by sudden realization.
“Kelm!” she gasped.
“Who?” Casara asked.
“A friend.” She whirled towards the woman, eyes wide in desperation. “Please, is there enough time for me to say good-bye to him? He must know where I’m going!”
Sympathy welled up in the lady’s eyes and she nodded. “Go then. We can wait.”
Shoving her bag into Casara’s arms without a second thought, Tellie tore down the street. A few of the villagers called to her, asking about the strangers by the inn, but she paid them no heed. For all she knew, Kelm might have left already. No doubt the broken wheel had been fixed, so they could have already left at dawn. And if he was gone, then he could be gone forever. She gathered up her skirts and ran faster.
There! There they were, just outside of the house belonging to the merchant’s aunt. Kelm was climbing into the wagon’s seat while the merchant said good-bye to his aunt.
“Wait! Stop!”
Kelm twisted around in surprise. “Tellie?”
“You didn’t say good-bye!” she cried, panting as she drew even with the driver’s seat.
“Shame on ye, lad, you’ll break your girl’s heart,” the merchant chuckled, slapping Kelm on the shoulder.
Flushing fiercely, Tellie decided to otherwise ignore the comment. “I had something to say,” she said. Uneasily, she glanced at the merchant and his portly aunt. She really didn’t want to tell her story in front of them; already she could hear demands for long explanations. “Please, could I talk to Kelm a moment?”
“We really must be going,” the merchant said.
“Oh, let them talk,” the aunt said with a laugh. “They get to see each other so little, the darlings.”
Blushing at that, Kelm jumped down from the wagon and followed Tellie as she turned and ran past the houses into the forest. “This better be good,” he grumbled. “You know I’m going to be teased about this the entire day.”
Tellie continued to trot through the forest until she was sure no one from the village would wander by and overhear. Smiling from ear to ear, she faced him. “I’ve been adopted,” she announced.
“What?” He backed up so fast he nearly tripped over a log.
“Well, I suppose it’s not official yet,” she admitted, twisting her fingers together. “But I think they’re really serious, you know. And I don’t belong to the Nornes anymore. That’s why I had to talk to you. We need a plan to see each other again. Maybe they will let me come to Dormandy now and then? Or maybe your master could come there?”
“Wait! Hold it, back up!” Kelm exclaimed, waving his hands in a frantic effort to stop her words. “Where are you going?”
“Well, they’re taking me with them.”
“Who? Where?”
“The elves, of course,” Tellie said impatiently.
“The what?” Kelm’s mouth dropped open and he grabbed her by the arms. “You don’t mean to say you’re going with them?”
“Yes, and why not?” she answered, irritation creeping up the back of her neck. He was acting excited in all the wrong ways. As if she hadn’t enough voices of doubt in her own mind.
“You don’t know a thing about them!”
She stiffened. “I do too,” she said, hating how he echoed her own questions. “Lord Leoren is the steward of Aselvia. He and his wife are going to be watching over their kingdom until a new king is found. Because, you see, the elf king I told you about…he…he died.”
“Did you see him dead?” he asked suspiciously.
“Bother it, Kelm, what galls you?” Tellie cried in frustration, stepping back. “They are the nicest people I’ve ever met. They paid the Nornes to set me free!”
“They paid?” Kelm’s eyes widened, and he looked around as if something was going to leap down on them. “Briars and brights, Tellie, you’re being cheated! Why on earth would they pay unless they wanted something from you?”
They want me to choose their next king, so there, Tellie wanted to shout, but it sounded so ludicrous, she did not dare. Fear that he spoke truth clawed up her throat. Really, why were they bothering to help her?
“Why indeed?”
They both gasped at the words growled behind them. A dark and menacing man stepped out from behind a tree, and worse, she knew him.
Daran.
“What are you doing here?” Tellie gasped. “Leoren told you to leave.”
Kelm gripped her arm and pulled her back as the man approached.
“And we did, just like obedient little mortals,” he said with a sneer. “But I’m afraid our Kilkus just doesn’t give elves enough respect.”
At his words, another figure slipped forth from the shadows of brambles and stones. Tellie’s blood ran cold at the sight of it. A shard. It had to be. No other creature of legend could match the horror of its existence. Its skin might have been carved from stone, and the flame of a candlewick flickered in its dark eyes. Dark as midnight and terror.
“Tellie, RUN!”
Kelm’s shout tore through her paralysis, and she found herself yanked off her feet as the boy dragged her through the fern. She took control of her own flight and sprinted to keep up with him, struggling to regain her breath.
“Leoren!” she shouted. “Leoren, Casara!”
Her foot hooked on a fallen branch. She barely had time for dismay as her hand slipped out of Kelm’s, and she face-planted into the ground. Thorns and sticks dug into her palms as she scrambled to stand up. A shadow cast over her and she looked back just in time to see one of Daran’s men reach down and grab her by the shoulders. She screamed, trying to wrench from the hold. The other hand of her captor clamped over her mouth, cutting any cry off short, and she was swung up to a standing position. As she struggled, she caught sight of Kelm running back, his face pale but resolute.
The next instant, another of Daran’s company leapt up from the ferns and caught the boy by the neck, pinning his arms and covering his mouth as well.
The more Tellie struggled, the more the grip tightened, and her skin began to numb from the pressure. Trembling, she let herself go limp, but her eyes rolled wildly for any sign of the elves.
“What about the boy?” Kelm’s captor asked, shaking the youth roughly. “He wasn’t with them.”
“Not that Kilkus saw anyway. He might be,” Daran said. “Either way, he’s a child. The elves are soft-hearted for such things.” He stood looking at both children, hands on hips. “The elf king dead!” he snarled. “If that’s true, the entire plan’s off!”
A rattle of noise startled them all, and they turned to see another of the dark men come crashing through the brush towards them. “They’re coming!” he hissed. “The elves heard the shout!”
His face contorted into a murderous scowl, Daran started undoing a packet on his belt. “Shoot on sight,” he ordered.
Tellie twisted, just able to see the village through the trees. Any moment the elves would burst through the forest, arrows flying, and save her.
Her attention jerked back to Daran as he pulled a smooth, black marble from his packet. Not a gleam or line marred its depth.
The men drew back at the sight. “By the Darkness,” one of them muttered. “You aren’t actually using that thing?”
“Do you want to die here?” Daran growled, his grim face shuddering with the slightest fear. “He started it all, didn’t he? He can help us a bit now.” Drawing his knife, Daran slid the blade across his knuckles, letting the blood drip upon the surface
of the sphere.
A dark mist rose from the orb, curling into a wisp that swirled around Daran’s hands. The men muttered in fear, but everyone stood their ground. As Tellie watched, the dark wisp suddenly grew into a thick coil that whipped around Daran’s figure and then spread out to all the rest. Terrified, she thrust back against her captor, the gravity of the danger descending with the darkness. She screamed and clawed against the restricting hand, and in the next moment, she broke free, tumbling to the ground.
“Tellie!”
She looked up through tangled hair to see the elves dashing through the trees towards her. She could see nothing of their faces in her blurred vision, but she could hear the terror and anger in their voices, and light glanced off their blades with blinding brightness.
But before she could jump to her feet, before she could race to them, she realized there wasn’t any ground beneath her. Horrified, she swept her arms out, trying to feel something, anything! But there was only wind, consuming, ravaging wind. It had to be a dream, or else it wouldn’t be so dark. Where had the daylight and the elves gone?
But then the darkness began to recede. Not because it retreated but because she was being pulled above it, the void dropping further and further away beneath her. A glow began to shimmer around her, so pure and bright that all else withdrew, even from memory…
Leaves shimmered like jewels under the sunlight’s kiss, trembling with the breath of a breeze. Tellie stared up at the trees, wondering why she could not feel or hear the wind. She stood upon a small walled path; everything beyond it blurred. I’m dreaming, she realized. At least it seemed to be a pleasant dream. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed there had been something unpleasant happening in reality.
In the absolute stillness, she heard a distant door open, and a man walked forth onto a balcony further down the path. It was then that she noticed the small boy sitting upon the nearby wall, and he leapt up and ran towards the man, who swept him up into his arms. She stepped closer, not wishing to startle them, but curious to know who they were.
Moonscript (Kings of Aselvia Book 1) Page 7