43. Harper
43
HARPER
O f course, Aedon soon caught up. He peppered her with questions. What did Dimitrius want? Why had he come? How had he managed to penetrate so far into the dwarven stronghold? How had he found her? Why was she there? Then his tone became more suspicious. Such an isolated spot… Had she conspired to meet Dimitrius? They had been so close in Tournai. Was she in league with him? At that musing, Harper abruptly halted. Aedon almost ran into her. She whirled around, shaking, and slapped him across the face as hard as she could.
“Still your tongue, Aedon!” she snarled. “For once, be quiet! I know little more than you. Leave me alone! I need to be alone.” Without another word, she stormed away.
It was hours later that she gravitated towards company again. She eventually found Brand and Erika in the great hall, drinking and laughing with a table of raucous dwarves, but at her arrival —and her thunderous expression—they set down their tankards and slipped away from the mirth.
She told them what had transpired, ignoring Aedon, who arrived not long after her. She had a sneaking suspicion he had continued to trail her, but she did not have the energy to confront him. The shock of Dimitrius’s appearance had drained something vital from her. Aedon’s cheek, she was part viciously pleased and part ashamed to note, remained red. But, he did not remark upon it as he slid onto the bench. Without looking at him, she told Brand and Erika what had happened from the moment Dimitrius had appeared—taking care to leave out the parts that made her feel painfully exposed. She fought down the rising warmth in her cheeks with deep breaths.
“So, he wants us to leave?” asked Brand. His gaze repeatedly strayed to Aedon’s scarlet cheek.
“It seems so. He wanted to warn me—genuinely, I think—that if we stay, we will be involved in the battles to come.”
“And why did he take the time, I wonder, to warn you?” Brand’s gaze was all too discerning.
Harper stilled under his attention—anything to stop the guilty squirm that wriggled through her. “After Tournai—” she left the implications of that to hang, because there was so much she had not and would not share with them from that time, “—I think he feels guilty, perhaps. He did not have to let me go—but he did. And perhaps now, he does not want to see me hurt. Who knows what his reasons are.” She tried not to think about how close Dimitrius had been. How deeply his words had cut to her core. How compelling his presence was.
Brand leaned back and folded his bulging arms across his chest. “I don’t trust the slimy bastard.”
“Hmm.” Harper’s reply was non-committal. “Whatever his motive, he wants us to leave.”
“Then let’s go.” said Aedon. “Once Ragnar is healed, let’s travel as far from here as we can. Maybe across the mountains to the lands beyond.”
Erika glared at him. “I’m not going anywhere yet. I have a score to settle.”
Brand’s gaze flicked to her, but he held his tongue. Harper saw how he pursed his lips, as though he wanted to appeal she not do anything foolish, but she knew he had already said such things and been rebuked for it. “If you will not go, I will also stay.”
“It seems this is the only place I can find answers,” Harper added softly. “I’ll stay, too.” She tried to shut out what that might mean. Keldheim will not go the same way as Afnirheim , she reassured herself.
Aedon sighed. “We’re not fighters. We don’t have any part to play in this.”
Brand gestured at the door. “Then go.” He sighed, his voice softening. “We have followed you far over the years, Aedon, even when you have led us into folly. We ask you, this time, to follow us .”
Aedon squirmed, but he had no choice. “Fine,” he muttered, staring mutinously at Harper. “I’m still not happy, though,” he added rebelliously. “Dimitrius has never been selfless. No doubt this is one of his schemes. He’s always plotting something, and whatever he wants is not to our benefit.”
“I’m sure,” said Harper, surprising herself with the certainty of her tone. “I know deep in my gut, that he means me no harm.”
“You cannot trust him,” Aedon scoffed.
“No,” she assured them quickly, even though uncertainty swirled within her. She had not told them of the open doubt she had sensed in Dimitrius, seen written on his face, and the change there too that remained unspoken and hidden between his words. Dimitrius had realised what folly he had gotten himself into, she reckoned, what trouble he had become involved with—and he regretted it. That felt important to her. He had overflowed with remorse.
And, despite the danger to him, he had put himself at an even greater risk by coming to warn her. Despite how badly everything had gone… that meant something to her. Something she didn’t quite know how to untangle. He wasn’t as bad as he appeared from the outside—of that, she had already been quite certain. Now, despite his misdemeanours, and the terrible movement he seemed to be caught up in, she could not think the worst of him. Not having seen a sliver of the truth of his character.
She cleared her throat. “I think you might be surprised to find us working alongside each other in the future. I think our aims might be aligned.”
Aedon scoffed at that, and the others murmured their doubts, but Harper only shrugged. “I just have a hunch. You’ll see.”
Over the coming days, Keldheim’s fortifications grew. Dwarves poured in from across Valtivar until the city was full to bursting and every bed occupied. Harper, Aedon, Brand, and Erika had been moved to the konig’s own halls, where Harper and Erika shared, as did Brand and Aedon, for their old abode now housed ten dwarven warriors from Himmelheim.
Brand and Erika were alive with the hum of war. They held a new energy, a vibrancy, that had not been there before, and spent every spare hour training in hand-to-hand combat with the dwarves, amongst whom they were starting to earn quite the reputation. In the fighting hall, which rang with the clash of blades, Harper and Aedon partnered. He had said no more of the slap she had dealt him—she suspected it had stung his pride at the very least—and she conversed no more than she had to. Instead, they sparred in near silence, dancing and whirling in a kaleidoscope of light and colour as they attacked and defended against magical assaults. Harper’s blood thrummed with the force of magic rushing through her, setting her afire in energy.
Finally, Aedon called a halt, wiping a glistening brow on his sleeve. “That’s enough for now. I’m going to spar with one of Jarl Halvar’s men to keep my blade true. I suggest you do the same.” He nodded to her and turned away.
“Wait,” she blurted, stepping toward him.
He halted, turned back to her, and raised an eyebrow.
She could have laughed, though mirthlessly, at how their relationship had changed. At first, she, nothing more than a mortal nobody, captivated by the handsome, light-hearted elf. Then discovering her own magical talents, set afire with lust for him and daring to pursue it—before realising that he was not what she wanted, and she did not have to settle for him, regardless of what—who—she did want. She had been na?ve and foolish to seek comfort in the first one to show her kindness. But that did not equate to the footings of a relationship, or a healthy one at that. Now she felt they were on an equal plane, perhaps at long last, and found herself utterly indifferent toward him, now he had shown his true heart.
“Yes?” he prompted, still waiting.
She wiped the small smirk from her face. “I have a question. About Dimitrius.” I couldn’t ask him when you arrived , she thought with no small amount of irritation. How much else had been left unsaid? She would never know.
His own expression became closed, guarded.
“I don’t know how he found me in particular, but how did he reach Keldheim? Where I was… It was impregnable. I mean, elves can’t fly, but if he could, I would have seen him come from either end of the bridge. He seemed to appear out of nowhere.” She frowned, recalling his scent washing over her, and something curled low in her belly at their closeness as he had pressed her to the rock—and she had let him. “I can’t fathom it.” Any of it . It haunted every step. She looked over her shoulder and around every corner for him, expecting his searing attention upon her, but Dimitrius had not appeared again.
Aedon shifted. “I don’t know,” he said eventually. “I’m an elf. Magic is innate, but that doesn’t mean I can do or know everything. There’s much I do not know of magic, and darker magics beyond that. He has skills I’m not privy to.” By the way he gritted his teeth, the confession seemed to annoy him, but it only intrigued her. Dimitrius was more powerful than any other she had met. Perhaps it stood to reason that he possessed different magics. She had no doubt she would see him again. When she did… I will ask him myself . One way or another, she was determined to find an answer.
At that moment, Jarl Halvar strode through the melee to their side. “Harper of Caledan.” He bowed to her.
“Jarl Halvar.” She replied in kind, raising a fist to her chest in the dwarven sign of respect. He was pleased by that, judging by the little upturn of the corner of his mouth, but his face remained grim.
“You are to speak with the Mother. At once. She commands it.”
Harper frowned, but nodded. What could Vanir want with me again? She could not refuse, but part of her wanted to. She had discovered life-shattering revelations in the white caves. She didn’t know if she could take any more.