Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Krujha
Alwyn was quiet the next morning, not that Krujha could blame him.
He still thought there was more to be said on the matter of Alwyn’s so-called mentor, but it was clearly a sore spot for the elf.
And right now, it was more important that they were working together without conflict, so he didn’t broach the topic again.
Besides, he was too tired to rehash the argument—he’d woken at some point in the night, feeling the warm press of Alwyn’s smaller body against his own, and his awareness of their close quarters had kept him awake until sunrise.
“I’ll teleport us today,” Alwyn said, as they broke camp after a quiet breakfast. “I probably won’t be able to do it again. And it will be tiring, so I might not be much help the rest of the day.”
“How close do you think we’ll end up?” Krujha asked. Alwyn bit his lip, considering. The morning air was cold enough that it made his nose and cheeks a rosy pink, which Krujha found entirely too distracting.
“It’ll shave off at least two days of travel,” he finally said. “It’s hard to say more than that. We might not be exactly on-course, but I can at least get us further east.”
“I can figure out where we are once we’re there,” Krujha said, offering him a smile. “You just worry about getting us there in one piece. Deal?”
Alwyn shot him a tiny, chagrined smile. “Deal.”
When they finished packing, Alwyn arranged them in a careful circle with their horses beside them.
“We all need to be touching for this to work, skin to skin,” he said. Krujha stifled a smile at the color that rose in the elf’s cheeks. “Make sure your hand is on the horse itself—not the reins, or saddle, or anything else.”
“Touch the horse. Got it,” Krujha said, nodding as he placed a hand on his stallion’s broad neck. The horse whickered softly at the touch, but didn’t pull away.
“Okay,” Alwyn sighed. His small hand rested along the snout of his own gelding, which nudged into his hand as if searching for a treat. Alwyn offered his other hand to Krujha, and after a beat, he took it.
His hand was so small that Krujha barely closed his fingers for fear of breaking those delicate bones. His skin was cold to the touch as Alwyn tightened his grip around Krujha’s palm.
“Ready?” he asked, and Krujha nodded. He watched as Alwyn took in another deep, slow breath.
As he exhaled, Krujha could feel the swell of something around them.
It reminded him of swimming in the ocean as a child, being lifted off his feet by a wave before it crashed down around him.
He braced himself for the impact that he somehow knew was coming—
It came as more of a lurching sensation—like he’d missed a step on a staircase and was now falling freely, but only for a brief instant.
The horses let out cries of alarm, bucking away from them, but they’d already landed somewhere new.
In the blink of an eye, they were halfway to their destination.
“Shit,” Krujha hissed, scrambling to seize his horse’s reins before it could get too far.
He felt dizzy, though, and it was a struggle to stay on his feet.
When he turned back to Alwyn, he saw the elf had grabbed his own horse.
He sagged against it, clinging to the saddle as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. “Alwyn? You alright?”
“Y-Yes,” he stammered. When he stepped away from his horse, however, he immediately sank to the ground—clearly unable to support his own weight. “I just, uh, I just need a second.”
Krujha was beside him in an instant, eyes scanning for any injury.
His little hands were trembling, and his eyelids kept flickering closed, as if they were fighting sleep.
But when Krujha placed a hand on his clammy forehead, he groaned and weakly tried to push him away, which was a strange relief.
It meant he was at least aware of what was going on around him. “I’m fine. It’s just—I told you.”
“You didn’t say it would be like this,” Krujha sighed. “You can’t ride a horse in this state.”
“Just need a nap,” Alwyn mumbled, his eyes losing focus again.
Krujha sighed, glancing around. They were in a rocky plain very similar to where they’d just been, but there were more trees here.
That was a good sign, as the area near Drol Kuggradh was marginally more forested, but it also meant that he needed to find some high ground to truly get their bearings.
“Stay right here and don’t move,” he said firmly. Alwyn nodded, although his eyes had slipped closed. “I’m going to see if I can get a better idea of where we are. I’ll come right back, but you can rest while I’m looking. Okay?”
Alwyn mumbled something in reply, but it was too soft for Krujha to understand.
The elf was clearly too tired to go anywhere, though, so he should be alright.
He tethered the horses to a tree, then after a beat of consideration, carried Alwyn over to sit up against its trunk to rest more comfortably.
He thought the elf might protest at being lifted into Krujha’s arms, but he barely even seemed to notice.
That worried him. If he was already so deeply asleep that he didn’t realize he was being carried away, he would be in no position to defend himself. It meant Krujha would just have to be quick about it, then.
He first headed due east, toward the sun, looking for any sign of the myriad roads that would eventually lead to Drol Kuggradh. If they had gone more northeast than east, though, then all the roads would likely be out of sight, as the majority of the city’s trade came from the south.
The terrain was hilly enough that he couldn’t see terribly far into the distance, but there were no signs of a road.
The abundance of hills meant they had moved due east, just not as far as Krujha had first thought.
If they veered slightly north, while keeping that eastern course, they would eventually run into a road that led north toward Drol Kuggradh.
He returned to where Alwyn was resting, relieved to find him and the horses unmoved.
The horses had settled after their initial fright and were now grazing around Alwyn, who was leaning against the tree in the exact position Krujha had left him.
His chest rose and fell slowly in the deep rhythm of sleep; and his mousy brown hair, normally so neat, was tousled and messy.
The sun lightly touched his skin, and the warm pink of his lips was slightly parted.
Krujha stood and stared at him for a long moment.
Elves were all beautiful creatures, but something about the morning sun on Alwyn’s sleeping form had him frozen in place, his heart hammering away in his chest. His tiny frame was so delicate and precious.
And as cute as his eternal scowl was, now that his face was relaxed in sleep, it struck Krujha that he was somehow still as ethereally lovely as every other elf he’d ever laid eyes on.
It didn’t seem fair that the elves hoarded so much beauty to themselves. The thought made him chuckle, just enough to snap him out of his strange reverie, and he stepped closer to Alwyn.
“Ready to ride?” he asked, kneeling down beside the elf. Alwyn barely stirred; his eyes fluttered open briefly, but he seemed to barely register Krujha’s presence. Krujha frowned. He was clearly in no state to be traveling.
Alwyn’s magic had just halved their travel, so taking some time for him to rest wouldn’t be a terrible loss.
Still, it would be better if they were closer to a road, rather than out in the wilderness.
Krujha sighed and straightened up. They could spare another hour or so.
After that, he’d have to figure out how to get Alwyn onto his horse, even if he had to lead it himself.
He sat down beside the sleeping elf and looked out at the field of grass and rocks and trees around them.
The sky was a clear, pale blue; the air was still cold from the night, but the sun was starting to warm him up.
Far in the distance, he watched a hawk circle around and around until it finally dropped in a deadly swoop, talons outstretched, to rise again a moment later with its prize clutched in its claws.
All the while, Alwyn’s breath made a slow rhythm beside him.
It was a rare moment of peace after the turmoil of the past few days. The thought had a bitter edge as he considered Torlag and the elves who were not alive to see it.
After some time, Alwyn stirred, groaning in discomfort. His eyes opened, though they were still heavy-lidded.
“W-what? Where are we?” he asked, his voice thick with exhaustion.
“Right where you dropped us,” Krujha chuckled, turning to get a better look at him. “You were in no state to ride, so I decided we could spare some time for you to rest.”
“No, we should—we should go,” Alwyn mumbled, pushing himself to sit up straight. “I can ride.”
“I don’t think you can, little spitfire,” Krujha laughed. “But I admire your tenacity.”
Alwyn’s cheeks burned scarlet at that. He glared up at Krujha; but with how sleepy he looked, there was no intimidation to the look whatsoever. In fact, he rather looked like a puffed-up kitten. “I’m not—you don’t—I don’t know what that even means.”
“Just keep resting,” Krujha said. “The sooner you’re rested, the sooner we can go.”
“I can ride,” Alwyn repeated, trying to stagger to his feet. But there was no strength in his legs, and he slumped back with an annoyed sigh. “Five more minutes, then.”
“Sure. Five more minutes,” Krujha chuckled.