7. Aedon
7
Aedon stretched his toes toward the licks of fire that chased away the dark and threw dancing light on the cave walls. The warmth banished the creeping cold from his feet, for which he was grateful. His sodden boots lay with all the others to one side, gently steaming as the water evaporated. Erika and Ragnar sat around the fire lost in reverie, and for once, Aedon did not break it. Bone-deep weariness settled in him. It had been a long while since they had enjoyed true, safe rest, and he longed for it. They looked up as Brand strode back in, his wings tucked in tightly against the small passageway of the cave.
“All clear,” he said, his gaze raking across them all. The night surrounded him in stark shadows, and only his eyes glinted until he entered the small sphere of light beside them.
“Safe?” Ragnar questioned with a nervous glance toward the entrance.
Brand chuckled darkly as he squatted near the fire. “I wouldn’t go that far. The elves of Tir-na-Alathea are a murderous bunch when they want to be, and we’re too close for comfort. This is the most defensible position we have, but we cannot stay for more than one night. I’ve scouted the area. There are no traces of us—or them. We should still sleep with one eye open and some extra protection.” He glared pointedly at Aedon, who inclined his head.
“The wards are already up. Don’t worry.”
“I still don’t trust the trees.” Brand scowled toward the entrance, as if the trees were creeping in.
Aedon clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry yourself, Brand. The trees here are harmless. They’re not the same as the Tir-na-Alathea dhiran.”
Brand did not seem convinced by the deepening of his frown, but Aedon let him be. He knew the Aerian warrior never let his guard down.
“Are you sure there’s no reason to worry?” Ragnar looked toward the inky void of the cave mouth again.
“If Brand says not, I’ll trust to that,” Erika said.
Brand inclined his head to her, then turned to Ragnar. “You’re safe here, Master Dwarf.”
Even so, the night closed about them, leeching in from the cave entrance and Aedon was glad for the light and warmth of the fire, though he would not admit it. He leaned back onto an elbow and smirked. “What a tale for the ages, eh? The legendary Thief of Pelenor takes on the elves of Tir-na-Alathea and wins. I can hear the adoration already.”
Erika snorted at Brand. “You should have dropped him.”
“My apologies,” Brand said, shrugging. “He carried our prize. I could not, though I considered it.”
“You would be lost without me,” Aedon crooned.
“We’d be in a lot less bloody trouble,” Ragnar said, jabbing his wooden spoon at Aedon.
Aedon only grinned wider and swiped a taste of the broth from it, making Ragnar rap his knuckles. “Yum.”
“If you knew what hunted us, you wouldn’t be so cocky,” warned Brand.
“I do know what hunts us,” said Aedon. “Why worry about what we cannot control? They shan’t catch us. We’re masters of evasion.”
“They’ll see your fat head from a mile off,” the Aerian warrior grumbled, moving closer to the fire between Aedon and Erika.
The only sound besides the crackle of the fire and the rasp of Erika’s blade on her whetstone was the sizzle of the roasting meat dripping fat into the flames. The nomad woman’s gift to them that day was a young wild boar, caught before Aedon and Brand had returned from their mission. It had been a long trek since for all of them, up into the foothills and as far away from the waking forest as they could travel.
They had fled long into the dark without stopping. Erika had guarded their rear, whilst Aedon magically swept away any trace of their passing. Brand had carried their prize, ready to take to the skies at a moment’s notice to save it, should it come to that. Yet, somehow, they had evaded capture. Aedon held their prize before him, the top and bottom of the vial between his finger and thumb, admiring the way the faceted crystal caught the orange light of the fire and shattered it across the cave in hues of honey and amber.
“Is that it?” Erika asked. She frowned and leaned forward, as if it might seem more impressive if she got closer.
“What do you mean, ‘is that it’?” Aedon spluttered, glaring at her indignantly. “It cost a lot—nearly my head, thank you very much—to get this much!” His numb buttocks protesting, he shifted on the hard ground. Even though the furs beneath them were warm, they grew worn from age and the earth’s cold seeped through.
The stoppered vial was a beautiful specimen, the likes of which few in Pelenor would see. The perfectly clear, tear-shaped crystal vessel was small—smaller than Aedon had hoped. However, in the heat of the moment, and having come so far, there had been little reason to not take it. The clear liquid within glimmered with every hue of the rainbow and a light of its own, if Aedon squinted at it. However, there was not enough to take even one mouthful.
“We were hoping for more, I think,” Ragnar said. His quiet, measured voice made Aedon wince much more than Erika’s sharpness. Somehow, his disappointment was worse. Aedon threw a troubled glance at the dwarf, who stared at the vial as he turned the meat on the spit, basting it in its own juices. He sighed. “I would have taken more had it been available. This was it. The sum total of all that distillation.”
They all stared at it, and he knew they wondered the same. Did it hold salvation, and would it be enough? The liquid seemed so insubstantial. Aedon swallowed and pushed thoughts of failure aside. That was not an option. They all knew it. “It’ll be enough,” he said, more strongly than he felt.
No one questioned him.
“We still might not return in time,” said Ragnar, his fingers fiddling with one of the embellishments upon his braided beard. “They were quite unwell.”
“The sickness was slow, though,” Brand argued.
“Aye, but we have already been gone too long. Who knows how their condition has developed.”
“We should take some horses on the way. Brand, you can fly, but the three of us will be far faster on horseback.”
“We cannot! We should buy some,” Ragnar said. He still turned the spit, but it was force of habit. He paid no attention to the roasting meat. He was too busy glaring at Aedon.
Brand barely suppressed a snort of laughter. “With what coin?”
Ragnar’s shoulders sank a little, but there was still a plea in his gaze as he searched Aedon’s.
Aedon smiled gently. “I’m sorry, my friend. We shall have to take. There’s no other way.”
Ragnar looked away. A jerk of his head was the only acknowledgment Aedon received.
“I’m sorry. I wish it could be otherwise, but you know we never take for the sake of greed. We take what we must to help those in dire need. Of all our quests, surely this is worth it—we can save lives. We can return the horses when we’re done, if you’re so bothered.”
“Don’t,” said Ragnar. “I know why we do what we do, but it does not make it any easier for my conscience to bear, no matter how great the need. Whoever we take from will be sorely poorer for it.”
Aedon’s lips thinned. “I feel the same. What is right is not always easy.”
“Theft is wrong.”
Brand clapped Ragnar on the shoulder. “It is, yet we will steal again as we have stolen before because it is even worse to let innocents die, isn’t it.” There was no question in his voice.
Ragnar met the Aerian’s piercing golden eyes. To his credit, he did not flinch, though it felt like looking into the hunting glare of an eagle. “Yes,” he said dully, looking away.
“None of us enjoys this life, of living in the shadows and having to steal to do what we feel is right.” Brand’s voice was gentle. “Yet I would rather have this kind of unseen honour than every privilege that was afforded to me before.” His gaze flicked to Erika, who nodded, face grim. He looked at Aedon. “There’s no other way?”
Aedon squirmed. “I won’t say we don’t have a choice, Ragnar, because you never agree, but you know Brand’s right.”
Ragnar pursed his lips. “I know. I just wonder when we’ll ever not have to make such choices.”
“Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps never.” Aedon shrugged. “I’ll make them gladly every time. What we do matters. We may commit crimes—but only with the greater good in mind. It makes a difference. We make a difference. The world needs us to keep doing what we do.”