28. Onora
Chapter 28
Onora
T hey followed along the riverbank, keeping low and watching for signs of scouts. The roar of the river muffled any sounds they made. The sun beat down on them, chasing away the chill of the morning.
“How long have you been a Hunter?” Dryston asked after a while.
She raised a brow, and he shrugged.
“We have nothing else to do while we travel. Humor me.”
She looked out over the water. “I started when I was thirteen.”
He gave a low whistle. “A bit young, don’t you think? Is that normal for the guild?”
“No. It is young and inadvisable. But I was orphaned and had nowhere else to go. The chief took me in, and I begged him to let me train. He refused at first. Said I should go to school in Venatu and learn those skills. To be a child for a little while longer.”
“What changed his mind?”
“I wouldn’t stop training. And he ...” She closed her eyes, trying to chase her memories away with the whistling wind as it hit the windowpane. He’d all but refused. But she’d woken early every morning and trained, joining with the recruits on their morning run and, while slow at first, she eventually kept up with them. That hadn’t convinced him, though. It had been the screaming nightmares, the way she flinched when anyone raised their voice, the way she would shut down, and freeze, the way she would then shift into a rage. “He realized I hadn’t been much of a child for a while. And he let me train.”
It was silent for a beat, and she refused to look at him. She could feel his eyes on her, boring in. She didn’t know why she was telling him all of this. Maybe because it didn’t matter. They would eventually part ways. And maybe it felt nice to admit her weakness to someone. To not have to be strong and invincible.
“How did your parents die?”
“The Cruel Lord killed them. He killed all the adults in my village and enslaved the kids who didn’t fight back.” She choked out the last words, hating herself anew.
Didn’t fight back. She’d hidden under a bed, watched as her family was slaughtered, too afraid to do anything. She would have died, yes, but at least she would have still had her honor. Maybe she could have saved her baby brother if she’d at least tried.
As if he could sense her thoughts, he said, “I ran when my family was attacked. I took Enid and flew away. She begged me for hours to return and save our mother and Kaemon. They were still alive when I left. But I didn’t. I said it was to save Enid, to protect her. But I was also terrified. I was a coward.”
She met his gaze, and a kindred brokenness looked back at her. “You would have died.”
“Oh?”
She swallowed. She remembered that day, all those years ago. “I didn’t realize you were there. My mentor, who was like an older sister to me, was called out to help. Said that the demons had attacked Hunters patrolling the woods. They sent so many Hunters in response. You would have died. And so would Enid, if she’d come with you. Your instincts—your fear—saved you.”
“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t a coward.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure your parents would disagree. I’m sure if they saw you and your siblings were alive, they would be thankful you ran. They would be angry if you hadn’t.”
“That’s true for you, too, Onora.” His voice was soft, too soft.
She fiddled with the buttons on her shirt as a distraction. It was silent again and finally she said, curiosity overwhelming her, “You were truly in Venatu that day? You and your siblings?”
She’d heard that delegates had come, and she supposed Dryston would have been old enough to come along. But hadn’t Enid and Kaemon been young?
“We needed the colony to complete the ritual in the temple. Our magic is tied into one another and in order to remove the enchantment on the ley line, we need as many from our colony as possible. My father had been talking for months to the human lord and was convinced it was safe. He’d visited so many times prior to that. We had meetings all week long with humans, dining in the great halls, drinking together. I truly thought it had worked.”
Onora frowned. This was so different from the story she’d heard. She knew they’d been there a week, but she’d thought it was only adults. The Lord and Lady of Shadows and their delegates. They had gone to visit a temple in the woods and slaughtered Hunters patrolling as part of a demonic rite to gain power. Then Hunters from the guild had been sent and killed all of them.
Except Dryston and his siblings. Which the stories had always left out were there.
She’d traveled with Kaemon, too. He’d said he’d been held captive for years by Hunters. She’d refused to believe him, or at the very least believe that he’d been held captive when he had done nothing wrong.
But why would Kaemon have lied about it? And why would Dryston be fabricating this story now?
“You’re saying that they attacked you?” She didn’t like it, she couldn’t believe it. Because if that were true, then the chief would have ordered it. And if that were true, then he had been lying to her.
Which would mean that there were increasingly fewer reasons to believe he hadn’t written the decree for her death.
He gave a bitter laugh. “I suppose you heard another grand tale? About us spending months and months brokering peace as a scheme to kill more humans?”
She didn’t respond, unsure what she could say. “Demons endured tragedy at the hands of the Cruel Lord, too, Onora. I remember the years of my family hiding out in a village, trying to keep our heads down from his soldiers, my parents doing whatever they could to protect us.”
Everything felt as if it were shifting, the world slanting, and she was trying to stay upright. She wanted to tell him he was a liar, to shut up, that he was manipulating her. Because that’s what she’d experienced of demons all those years ago. The little and big lies they told her, making her question her reality. The way they tried to groom her and make her into something that was perfect for them.
Choose honor before all else.
Her father had told her that integrity and honor should be clung to, even in the face of death. Even when it would get you killed. She’d lived her life that way. Where would her integrity be if she didn’t listen? Try to understand?
“How did your father overthrow the Cruel Lord?”
He blinked, clearly surprised by her question. “The Cruel Lord took a special interest in my mother. He took her to be his bride. That’s unheard of. My parents were mates and married. That’s a bond that’s respected above all else. So my father told him that he could have my mother if he challenged him and could defeat him. The Cruel Lord was arrogant and agreed. My father was so enraged and desperate to protect my mother that he killed him quickly. It was a shocking thing, but it also meant he was suddenly the new Lord of Shadows.”
Onora didn’t know what to do with this information. She’d heard nothing about the demons not supporting the Cruel Lord. She’d heard he’d died and had a successor, Dryston’s father, but she hadn’t realized he’d oppressed the demons as well.
“I didn’t know all of that,” she said.
Dryston stared at her, a look of challenge in his eyes. As if he expected her to fight, repudiate what he said, or worse—laugh at him. When she didn’t, he ran his hand through his hair nervously and frowned.
“A lot of people don’t believe it.”
They stared at each other a moment—charged, like the shift of a tide, something tilting, tipping, turning over.
“I believe you,” she said quietly.
His throat bobbed, jaw clenching, but there was emotion in his eyes—deep and welling. A relief that made her chest constrict. As if she’d cracked open some vault in him and behind it were a trove of truths and treasures for her to find out about him.
And she was startled to realize that it felt like the entire world had just opened up to her.
Fields of corn hid their way from the river on, providing cover amidst the otherwise open area. They came to the house at dusk. It rose like a beacon amidst the plains, crags and rocks falling off far in the distance where it met the ocean, surrounded by woods to the side.
She peeked around the sturdy stocks at the house, looking for signs of anyone else present. Smoke rose from the barn and the smell of metal met her nose. The forgery.
Finally, a tall elf male, slender but strong, came out of the barn, a leather apron on his body and a helmet in his hands. His skin was pristine despite the heat that filled the barn. He went into the house, then came out, dressed in a casual sweater and trousers, then sat on the porch, drinking tea.
“Is that him?” Dryston asked.
She nodded.
“So, what are we waiting for?”
“I ...” Her voice trailed off.
“He seems to be alone.”
“Yes . . .”
Dryston glanced down at her, confused. She chewed her lip nervously, then finally sighed. “Okay let’s go.”
The elf didn’t notice them at first, but when he did, he stood quickly, frightened, before squinting his eyes, seeing Onora. His expression turned stormy.
Her shoulders stiffened but she powered on. She’d told herself that his ire couldn’t be worse than what they’d just endured, but now, face-to-face with it, she barely had the energy for it.
“Tannin,” she said as they came close.
“Onora,” he said, a haughty tone lining the edge of every word. His gaze swept over them, a brow raising in amusement when he took in the chains on them. “Who arrested who?” He waved a finger between them.
Onora let out a heavy sigh. “Can you help us get free? They’re magically sealed.”
Tannin let out a bitter laugh. “Funny how you can suddenly remember my existence when you need something, Onora.”
Dryston shot her a quizzical look, but she ignored it.
“Tannin we can talk, privately, after the chains come off.”
“And what do I get out of this deal?” Tannin crossed his arms. “It seems you two are wanted, and I may be getting myself into trouble by helping you.”
Onora’s nostrils flared. “You’re awfully good at making sure everything is about you, Tannin. Always have been. What?—”
Dryston cut her off. “Tannin, right? I’m Dryston.” He put his hand forward, having to yank hers along with it.
Tannin took it, flashing him a smile. “Lord of Shadows?”
“The one and only.”
“My oh my. I’m infinitely curious about how this all came to be.”
“We’ll tell you whatever you like. I can see there’s an interesting history between the two of you, but regardless, I can offer tempting compensation if you get me free.”
“Onora? What can you offer me?” Tannin asked.
She rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Tannin? For me to apologize? I’m sorry . Are you happy?”
Tannin’s nostrils flared. “You don’t mean it at all. And after you left me, high and dry.”
“I left you? You slept with the tavern wench!”
Tannin’s face was a study in shock. “Why, I—well, I ...”
Tannin looked at Dryston for help and he threw a hand up. “Count me out of this fight, friend.”
Tannin sighed and shook his head. “I was in love with you, Onora. I think we should just part ways and never speak again.”
“Gladly,” she growled. “Once you take these shackles off.”
“There are plenty of magesmiths in Elf Glen.”
“We need you. We need discretion.”
Tannin pursed his lips.
Dryston stepped between both of them, placing comforting hands on Tannin’s shoulders. “I want you and Onora to hash things out, but I am currently being hunted to be killed. If you can get these off me at least, I can get out of your hair.”
An indignant noise came from Onora as she gaped. So much for their moment of bonding earlier. Tannin cocked his head to the side, giving Onora a satisfied smirk. “Oh, so he lets you go and then he just keeps me here shackled?”
Dryston shrugged, casting a backward glance over his shoulder. “That’s between the two of you.”
Her gaze narrowed, and he flashed her a mischievous grin, winking.
Tannin sighed. “Fine, I’ll take your shackles off.” He looked at Onora and held up his hand at her mounting protest. “Even yours. But I need something in return.”
“Tannin . . .” Onora growled.
Tannin tsked. “It’s obvious you’re both in danger. And that danger could follow me if I choose to help you and not turn you into the law. I need to get something out of this.”
Onora clamped her mouth shut with a grumble. This would create more danger for them, but she couldn’t deny it made sense. Tannin was putting himself in danger by helping them.
“What do you need?” Dryston asked.
Tannin looked toward the forest to the east. “There have been odd happenings in the woods and the area beyond. I haven’t heard from my friend in two weeks. He was supposed to come by two days ago, but he hasn’t. It’s not like him. I fear he’s become lost in the woods or injured. Can you search for him? He always follows the same path. You’d only need to do that and go to his house. If you don’t find him, you can stop and come back.”
“Why haven’t you searched for him?” Onora asked.
Tannin chewed his lower lip. “I’m no fighter, and I fear the things I’ve been seeing in the woods.”
Dryston glanced at Onora, but she wouldn’t look at him. Her skin crawled with an eerie premonition, and she looked at Tannin warily.
“What have you seen?” she asked.
Tannin shook his head. “It’s nothing. Probably just fanciful dreams. Regardless, there are also bandits in the deep woods, and I’m not particularly sturdy. I would appreciate the help, and I will release you of your shackles before you go.”
“You trust us to not flee in the night and leave you high and dry if you get our shackles off first?” Onora asked, wary.
Tannin sighed again. “You are many things, Onora, but a liar is not one of them. When you give your word, it’s ironclad. More secure than any enchanted bindings.” Tannin waved for them to follow. “Come along.”
Tannin set up herbs and other components of the spell on a bench, stoking the fire and adding them carefully to a pot. Sparks filled the air as he chanted words in elvish, each addition to the small cauldron making the air shift and turn colors.
Finally, he had them place the chain on a bench and he poured a bit of the liquid over it. There was a jolt, a zap that made Onora lurch forward in pain, then sparks ran along the metal—blue arcs like lightning, branches coming out and snapping along her skin. Then it stopped, and another sensation flooded her.
Magic.
It felt like she had been dying of thirst, gulping down water under a waterfall. She gasped and clutched her chest, heart racing like a hundred wild horses.
Then it stopped, and she finally took in her surroundings again. Pitch black darker than the night. She tried to pull the shadows back in, tugging and yanking, pulling and coiling them back inside of her.
But the darkness remained.
Hello.
The lightning arced around the room, hitting off the metal and clanging like thunder. Then a coldness, ancient and old, terrible and furious, ripped through her bones, seeping into the marrow, engulfing every part of her. Arms wrapped around her, but the touch only stung, sending the sensation throughout her body as she screamed in pain.
Hello.
“Onora!” Dryston cried out.
She tried to respond but couldn’t get anything out through the clanking of her teeth. He grasped her face and the shadows suddenly fell away, the lightning cooling and slithering back along her limbs. She blinked her eyes rapidly. Dryston held her against him, cradling her head from flopping around.
He wiped the hair from her brow, the strands wet and sticking. Her hand clung to his shirt, fisting it weakly.
“What happened?” she gasped out.
“Our power returned.”
“Did you hear it?”
“The thunder?”
“No, the voice.”
Dryston stared at her, cocking his head to the side.
She pulled herself up, standing shakily, then falling back, letting him catch her. Their eyes met, a moment more intense than the lightning and thunder passing between them, rippling along every surface of her skin. Then she looked hastily away, down at her wrist, now free of the shackles to him.
Now free of him.
It felt strange somehow. Too light. Too free. And oddly, she almost missed it.
She tried to stand but she swayed, and he had her tucked under his arm in an instant, steadying her.
Tannin took his helmet off. “Rest up tonight—tomorrow morning you’ll keep your end of the deal.”