Chapter 30 #2
“Finally, you said something that I actually wanted to hear.” He let go of my hands, leaving my skin disappointed, my mind confused. “Because…I got you…” He extended the letter u as he rummaged through the many bags he always left lying around here as if he owned the place. “Where did Eldric put—”
And as if the mention of his name summoned him, Eldric decided it was safe to return and shifted before our eyes. I swore I could never get used to it.
“Where did you put it?” Aegir asked.
“Just listen first. I need to tell you something,” Eldric pressed.
“What is it?”
“It’s about the princess, the one with the flute.”
“What about her?”
Eldric gestured with his hands, mouthing something that I could tell included the words sound and barrier.
“If you need me to give you some privacy, just say it,” I interfered, giving Eldric a hostile stare.
“No need, what is it?” Aegir asked.
Eldric let out a sharp exhale. “This morning, when I went to Joel’s room to get that thing you had stored there, you know the thing you asked me to—”
“Yes, yes, I get it. Go on.”
“Well, I kind of barged in and he was in bed.” Aegir gave him a for-fuck’s-sake-go-on look. “And Darius was in his bed, too.” My eyes widened; they didn’t strike me as the type. “The princess was also there. In bed. Between them. Naked. One was fill—”
“All right, all right. I take your meaning,” Aegir cut in.
Oh. So she overcame Aegir’s rejection by bedding two of his males. I see. And not that I didn’t believe him, but to have it confirmed made it just that bit better. He rejected her.
“Darius said they found her downcast on the first floor. He described her as a damsel in distress that desperately needed some gentle care and tending.”
Aegir let out an annoyed grunt, raking his fingers through his hair. “Oh, I’m going to fucking freeze them both to death. Do me a favour, will you? Go tell them to get the fuck out of Ramel.”
“You want to send Darius and Joel back home?”
Aegir’s words were misty. “Send all of them.”
“All of the Vanguard?” Eldric asked, two lines forming at his brow.
“Yes, you heard me.” Eldric only shrugged, not thrilled with Aegir’s decision. “Then come back here. I think she’s ready for Obstacle,” Aegir said, extending his arm towards me.
“Obstacle?” I whispered in confusion.
“I agree,” Eldric said. “We can set it up in the paddock.”
“Uh, what are you two talking about?”
Eldric squared his shoulders, and his voice deepened into a baritone. “It’s a type of agility and strength training involving a strategically organised obstacle course. It has a lot of technique and timing involved.”
Oh.
“Sounds fun,” I said flatly. I swore these two were going to kill me at some point.
“Where is it?” Aegir asked for the millionth time. Eldric fetched a grey sack from beneath the bench he was sitting on earlier and handed it to Aegir. “Go.”
It looked as if Aegir was telling me and not Eldric to leave. His gaze did not leave mine. And the second Eldric flew away, my heart thumped and my eyes fluttered. “Where did you get that?” I breathed.
“From Dunehaven. I thought you’d remember it.”
“I—of course I remember it.” I just couldn’t believe my eyes.
“Here, it’s yours.”
“No, I…that’s too much, I cannot accept it.”
“But I bought it…for you.” I just stared at it. I had almost forgotten the profound beauty of its craftsmanship—its carvings, so attentive, delicate yet bold. “Why are you looking at it like it wronged you?”
“What? No…I—It’s magnificent.”
He nudged it towards me. “It’s yours. I wanted to gift it to you when I was certain you were ready. You’re ready.”
I finally reached for the bow. I held it proudly, my left hand fully clenched around the Osage orange wood.
I spent some time looking at its meticulous designs.
My fingertips traced the various lunar phases, burned and carved along its spine.
Aegir observed me with as much intent as I was observing the bow, like he was watching a neglected child opening an expensive birthday gift.
“I—I don’t know how to thank you,” I whispered. “Well, actually, there is something I must confess…The wolf—I made it for you…and I didn’t really run out of blue buttons.”
“I know that already,” he said, a flicker of amusement tugging at his lips. Then he opened the bag he carried over his shoulder and added, “There’s more.”
“More?”
I stared at an arrow.
It looked like it was crafted from the bark of a redwood, its deep red contrasting the two freshly painted strips—one silver, one blue—at the arrow’s tail, splitting the feathered end in two.
“Do you know what this is?”
“An arrow?”
“Obviously. But do you know what’s special about this one?
” I shook my head. “We call it the cry-for-war. Red—blood, silver—moon, blue—ocean. This arrow is not fired with the intention of killing. No, we aim it to the earth of our enemy as a warning for what is to come for them. We’re Ice, children of Boreas the tempest, and we come for bloodshed. ”
The menacing words sounded enticing, familiar somehow. Then he bowed his head and offered it to me. It rested lightly on both of his palms as he extended his arms towards me. He appeared as if he was offering a gift to a god.
“For if we are ever to find ourselves in battle at each other’s side,” he added.
“I’m—” I didn’t know what to say. “You often leave me speechless.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He chuckled. I shot him a harmless scowl that ended with a reciprocated titter.
“Then I shall save this for another time,” I said, carefully setting down the arrow in the safest stall, the one flooded with books. Then I grazed my fingers along the bow’s string and asked him, “How about a friendly round of target archery?”