by E. L. Todd
She examined her cup, tilting it left and right.
“No spitballs?”
“I don’t think so.” She brought it to her lips and took a sip. “Well, it tastes pretty good, so if there’s spit in it, I guess I like spit.”
His eyebrows scrunched and his expression changed, like he might chuckle but didn’t.
She looked him over across the table, seeing the opening at the top of his shirt, the necklace that hung there, the bracelets on his wrists. His shirt was loose around his torso, but his chiseled strength was visible. He was strong like a horse, looked like a man who feasted on steak and potatoes every night. “Are you off today?”
“Yes. My rotation has ended.”
“Cool. Where do you live?”
“North of you.” He continued to drink his coffee slowly, sometimes watching her, sometimes looking at the elves that surrounded them. “Don’t sit like that.”
“Like what?”
“You’re slouching.”
“So?”
His eyes narrowed. “If you want to be accepted as an elf, you have to look like an elf.”
“Actually, I want to be accepted as me.”
“Then what is the definition of ‘me’? A slouching, combative, disrespectful young woman?”
“Whoa. She provoked me. If you were here sooner—”
“I saw the entire thing.” He gave her a bored look. “Helda shouldn’t have confronted you that way, especially publicly, but you’re the outsider here. She is not. Whether it’s right or wrong, you need to prove to these people that you’re willing to make any sacrifice to be one of them.”
“I get that, alright? But I’m not a pushover.”
“I would never ask you to be. But you should have de-escalated that situation, not thrown on more firewood.”
She rolled her eyes.
“And don’t do that ever again.” His voice changed, turning deeply hostile. “Not to anyone—but especially not to me.”
She looked down into her tea and slowly swirled it. “Sorry…” When she raised her chin and looked at him, the shadow had passed over his face.
The apology seemed to be enough. “You said you can make weapons.”
She hesitated because he didn’t actually ask anything. “Uh, yes?”
“Can you make other things?”
“I don’t understand your meaning.”
“I’m trying to find a way for you to contribute to our society.”
“Oh, gotcha.”
“So, can you?”
She considered it then shook her head. “Not really. But when I tell you I’m a great blacksmith, I mean it. No offense to your guy—”
“Girl.”
“Oh, really?” she asked excitedly. “That’s—”
“Badass?” Subtle affection entered his gaze, hovering briefly and quickly fading.
“Exactly. But really, I’m quite good. Maybe if I was given a chance—”
“Like I said, we don’t need another blacksmith. We hardly need one as it is.”
For now. “What about flower crowns? I can make those.”
“Only Queen Delwyn wears a flower crown.”
“I’ll try to think of something. But other than being a blacksmith, my greatest skill is my accuracy with a bow. But that’s useless to you guys. Wait. Unless I can be a soldier. You had some archers on the perimeter. I could do that.”
“No.” His answer came out short and quick, like there was no negotiation.
Probably because of Queen Crazy Bitch.
He let the silence linger for a long time, enjoying his coffee, hardly moving.
Her tea was gone, and she didn’t expect a refill. “Well, thanks for the tea. I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your day.” She rose from the bench.
He nodded back down to the seat, giving her a command without actually saying a word.
She didn’t like to be told what to do, but she lowered herself without any back talk.
“I’ve replaced Alfreda as your guide. I’ll be available to you a few days a week.”
“Seriously?” The last time she’d seen Alfreda was the day they met.
He nodded.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while.”
He took a drink and covered his lips, but his eyes held a smile.
“How did that happen?”
He finished his drink, his compostable cup now empty. “I offered to replace her.”
“Why?”
“Because she was doing you a disservice.”
Her eyes narrowed on his face, surprised that a general in the elven military wanted to volunteer to spend time with her, to guide her around Eden Star, to teach her their ways, when he probably had more important things to do. Then the assumption hit her. “I don’t want this to come out wrong or anything, because you’re a very handsome guy, but I just don’t see you that way…”
His eyebrows furrowed deeper than they ever had. Consternation spread across his face, like he didn’t understand a single word that came out of her mouth.
The awkwardness continued, and now Cora wished she hadn’t said anything at all.
Because Callon looked deeply disturbed by it all.
“So…” Now what did she do?
He continued to look uncomfortable, like he didn’t know how to respond to that. “Cora, I have a wife and a child. My interest in you is platonic and honorable. We have no issue on that front.”
“Oh…sorry.”
“I accept your apology. Let’s not speak of it again.”
When she stepped into the tree house, she saw her sword on the bed. “My sword…” She grabbed it and unsheathed it, watching the red blade emerge, looking like an inferno encased in metal. She sat at the edge of the bed and laid it across her thighs, missing Flare and Rush the second she looked at it.
Callon moved to a chair at the dining table.
“Thank you.” She lifted the blade closer to her face, and sometimes she thought she saw flames dance inside, like Flare’s flames lived on deep inside eternally. Her heart beat differently as she looked at it, picturing Rush’s handsome face over hers when she opened her eyes for the first time after Polox.
“That’s a very rare sword. Only King Lux has them—as far as I know.”
She grabbed it by the hilt and sheathed it back into the scabbard. It remained across her thighs.
“You said it was a gift—from whom?”
She kept her eyes on her sword, realizing this was an interrogation, a problem she hadn’t foreseen. She should have hidden her sword outside the forest to retrieve later. Now she struggled to find a suitable answer to his question.
“Cora.”
She was forced to lift her chin and look at him.
He examined her face for a while, his eyes shifting back and forth as he tried to find her answer in her expression. “If Queen Delwyn knew of this blade, she would have it destroyed. If one of the elves sees it, they will revolt. I trust that you will conceal this sword and never unsheathe it in public.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“I hope you recognize the gesture as a sign of trust.”
She nodded again.
“Will you answer my question, then?”
The spotlight was on her eyes once again. “Why do you trust me? You hardly know me. Is it because we’re from the same clan?”
With one leg resting on the opposite knee and his arms across his chest, he considered the question, blinking seldomly. His ring was visible on his right hand, the wood material contrasting against the bright emerald. “That’s exactly why.”
She looked at the sword again, her hands resting on top of the scabbard, which felt warm from the flames sheathed inside. “What does it mean? To be from the same clan?”
“A clan is the combination of all elves with the same surname. Elves are nearly immortal, so clans are quite big, a living history of close and distant relatives.”
When she looked at him again, her heart felt a li
ttle lighter. “So…we’re related?”
“Yes.”
She inhaled a deep breath, her throat suddenly turning warm and wet. She kept a stoic expression to hide it, but the emotion was like a tidal wave. She hadn’t anticipated something to hit her so hard—with the weight of a boulder. “How closely related are we?”
Silence.
He stared at her without blinking. His breaths were calm and steady, but a lifetime of thoughts moved across the surface of his eyes in just a few seconds. The seconds trickled until a full minute had come and gone.
She waited.
He finally spoke, dropping his gaze. “I don’t know…”
Eleven
The Greatest Swordsmen
Knock. Knock. Knock.
She sat up in bed. “It’s open.” Fully dressed, she’d been lying there looking out the window, watching the hummingbirds stick their snouts in the flowers to suck up the nectar.
Callon entered, carrying two bags made of tree vines, the assortment of fruits and nuts visible. He set everything on the counter. He was dressed down in his trousers and loose shirt again.
“What’s this?” She approached the counter.
“Didn’t want you to starve.”
“Well, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did.” He put everything in the bowls. “If not, you would have pissed off someone else.” He left the empty bags on the counter.
It took all her strength not to roll her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Lai-hie.”
“Huh?”
“Lai-hie. It’s how elves say thank you.”
Thanks for the heads-up, Alfreda. “Lai-hie.”
He nodded in approval then faced her.
“How are you?”
“The same as always.”
“Which is?”
“At peace.”
She was definitely not at peace.
“Do you have any requests?”
All she had was a blank stare. “Sorry?”
“As your guide, I’m supposed to teach you everything you need to know. So, what do you want to know?”
She was taken aback by the offer. “You’ve done enough for me, Callon. I’m sure you want to spend time with your family while you’re off your position. You don’t need to give me all your attention.”
His dark eyes remained still, his posture strong, like he was the stone in a cliffside. “Have you explored the meditation fields? I can take you there.”
Meditation was not her thing. “No, it’s okay.”
“Clearing your mind is essential for connecting with the life around you.”
“I’m sure it is, but that’s not at the top of my list.”
“I can guide you on my favorite hike to the waterfalls and streams.”
“No…”
His expression started to darken. “Then make a request, like I asked in the first place.”
She glanced at her sword, which leaned up against the wall. “Can you teach me the sword?” He was the general of the elven army. He was probably better with the blade than anyone else in Eden Star.
His answer was written on his face. “That serves no purpose.”
“Please.”
“Why?”
“Because I have a sword and don’t know how to use it—”
“Why is it essential that you learn? You’re protected in Eden Star.”
“What about when I leave Eden Star? I have a legendary blade with no idea how to use it. How stupid is that?”
He focused further on her face, like cranking up the lens of a magnifying glass. “Why would you leave Eden Star?”
“Elves come and go, right?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing for us out there except destruction and hate. You said you seek asylum. Not once did you say it was temporary. I’m beginning to wonder what your true intentions are—and if it was a mistake to trust you.”
She felt an invisible palm strike her in the face. Her cheek burned with redness. The abdominals over her stomach tightened. It was insulting when she shouldn’t feel insulted. She dropped her gaze for a moment.
“If you want me to teach you the blade, you must tell me why.”
“I just need you to trust me—”
“Those are my terms. I will not take an apprentice unless I support their cause.”
She didn’t want to confide this to anyone, but if she wanted his help, she’d have to loop him in. “I want to overthrow King Lux.”
His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “With what army?”
“I…I don’t have one yet.”
“With what allies?”
“Don’t have those either—yet.”
“For what reason?”
“Because he’s vile. I don’t need more of a reason than that.”
His hands moved to his hips, and he regarded her with a spectrum of emotions. Distrust. Annoyance. Anger. “That’s why you’re here—to seek an alliance with the elves. That will never happen, and not because you’re an outcast, but because the elves will never leave the sanctuary of Eden Star. We’ve already fought. We’ve already died. We won’t do it again.”
“What happens when he comes to you?”
“He won’t.”
“Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not in a hundred years. Maybe not in a thousand. But he will—one day.”
“We’ll be ready for it.”
“You’ll be ready to defend this massive forest against all the men of Anastille? He annihilated the dragons. He annihilated the goodness of men. He will not stop until he has it all. We should fight now—”
“I will not discuss war with a child. You have no understanding of what battle is. You have no understanding of death, of loss, of grief. You have no idea what you’re asking of a race that has lost as much as everyone else. Like the rest of mankind, you’re greedy. Selfish. Self-absorbed.”
She winced at his choice of words. “I’m not trying to be insensitive—”
“Ignorant is what you are.” He turned away and prepared to storm out.
“Please don’t go.”
He continued out the door and down the vines.
“Callon.” She went after him, tripping and falling over the vine. “Wait, please.”
He reached the bottom then looked up at her, rage in his dark eyes. “We’ve done our best to find peace. Do not rob us of what took thousands of years to find.”
“What about the dragons?” She was on all fours, swaying left and right on the vines, doing her best to crawl forward and reach him.
He turned back around—his expression maniacal.
“They’re prisoners—forever. They’re slaves. They—”
“Got what they deserved.” His nostrils flared in his rage, his breathing deep and labored, his hands clenched tightly into fists.
She slid to the bottom and righted herself. “You don’t mean that—”
“I mean it with every fiber of my being.” He pivoted to her, facing off with her like she was the target of his sword. “They opened our lands to those evil creatures. This all started because of their ignorance, their vanity. All it took were a few compliments on their majesty, their brilliant scales, their power…and they opened the doors. We’ve lost our forests, our loved ones, our entire world. I hope they suffer an eternity of torture—because they’ve forced us to do the same.” He turned away and marched off.
With a broken heart, she watched him go, knowing her plan would never come to fruition. “With or without your help, I will do this.”
He halted.
“I will march on High Castle with the allies I have. You can either give me the best chance of survival…or leave me on my own.”
His head tilted back slightly as he looked up into the trees, opening his throat farther for the deep breath he took.
She waited for him to turn around.
He never did.
He continued on his way—and didn’t look back.
She lay in the dark, the fireflie
s visible through her open windows. The sounds of crickets replaced the songs of the birds. Day or night, Eden Star was covered in a blanket of peace.
But she felt none.
She closed her eyes and pushed her mind out. Flare?
No response.
Flare, are you there?
Like a whisper, his voice spoke from far away. I’m here, Pretty.
It’s so nice to hear your voice.
Yes. I imagine it is.
She released a chuckle, and it was such a relief when her chest had been tight all day. How are you?
Uncomfortable. We’re at the hideaway. Sometimes it was hard to make out his words because his voice was so faint.
Why does that make you uncomfortable?
It’s in a cavern—not under the open sky.
I see. Will you be leaving soon?
Hopefully. Still working out details with the crew.
You guys got a crew?
Bridge knew a few people.
Great.
He was quiet for a while. You sound sad again.
Yeah…
I’m sorry, Pretty.
It’s okay. Talking to you cheers me up.
Of course it does.
She chuckled again. Can I talk to Rush?
Let’s try. Hold on.
She waited.
It was quiet.
The disappointment made her stomach sink again.
I’m here.
She inhaled a deep breath when she recognized his voice, recognized the hint of attitude mixed with his seriousness. Her eyes closed and savored it, like warm bathwater that rose higher up her skin as she sank deeper underneath. Rush?
The one and only. His smile was audible.
She could picture that grin in her mind as if he were right in front of her.
I hear you’re quite unpopular in there. Guess they aren’t a fan of the smartass comments either…
She chuckled as she rolled her eyes.
You just rolled your eyes, didn’t you?
With every passing second, she felt better. Felt the weight leave her shoulders. I miss you. It came out unexpectedly, in a moment of catharsis, because her connection to Rush was stronger than the connection she had with anyone else in the world. He was her only friend—human friend.
Silence trickled by before his voice came back, serious like hers. I miss you too.