Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Here.” Barnham slides a wax-sealed envelope across the desk. “Give this to the girl the King spoke of. It will allow her to gain entry into the castle.” He sits back at his desk, folding his hands in front of him.
I pluck it from the surface, looking down at the crest of a serpent breathing fire. “Thank you, Barnham.”
Without another word, I exit the room. Making my way onto the streets of Khalessor, I start my search for Aurelia. I haven’t seen her or Violet for a while. It leads me to believe that their father has moved his so-called business elsewhere.
I begin with the neighborhood near the Whispering Willow, focusing on the more rugged and downtrodden parts of the city.
When I don’t spot them, I walk in the other direction, searching the small alleyways and shadowed corridors.
I move through the maze of narrow streets, my eyes scanning every corner for the two girls as hours pass, the sky slowly darkening.
Then I spot the little girl covered in dirt and soot, holding a dented tin cup as she begs strangers for coins. I hide a few paces away out of sight, pressing my back against the wall of a nearby alley. Leaning around the corner, I wave to try and grab Violet’s attention.
She doesn’t see me as she walks between people on the busy street. Crouching down, I pick up small pebbles and throw them toward her. By my tenth pebble, Violet notices, picking up the rock and looking around. Our gazes meet, and I silently beckon the girl towards me with my hand.
Violet runs over to my side. “Hello, nice lady.”
“Hi, Violet,” I whisper, ensuring no one spots us. “Where’s your sister?”
“In the tent.” She frowns.
“When she comes out, come get me, okay?” I tell her. “Is your dad there?”
Violet nods.
“Does he hurt you?”
She nods again.
“I’m going to help you.” I try to give her a reassuring smile. “Now go before your father spots me.” I gently guide her back to the street. Violet runs off, and I hear her father yelling at her, his voice echoing down the narrow street.
I dig through my bag and unsheathe my dagger.
Their father had run off once before in the wake of my weapon; I’m sure I can get him to do so again.
Aurelia and Violet must carry the letter to the castle to break free from his clutches.
The sky darkens further to the warm hues of sunset, the day fading rapidly.
Violet is making me wait a long time, and a part of me hopes she won’t forget. I stay, hoping I can make my move soon.
Violet turns the corner. “Sissy is back.”
“Okay.” I nod. “Tell Aurelia that when I come around the corner, she needs to take this letter from me.” I show her the letter. “Then, you two need to run to the castle. Don’t stop for any reason, okay? Run as fast as you can. Do you understand?”
Violet nods along as she listens to me. “What ‘bout you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” I smile. “Now go tell your sister without your dad hearing.”
The child runs back out onto the open street.
Standing, I lean around the corner and watch as she approaches Aurelia and whispers in her ear.
Aurelia’s expression turns to confusion, but Violet points in my direction.
Her gaze follows the path until she sees me.
I nod at Aurelia, hoping she understands the plan.
Aurelia nods, wrapping her fingers around Violet’s wrist as she stands.
“Where do y’all think you goin’?” their father asks.
I dash out of the alley toward the girls. When she sees me, Aurelia takes off, dragging Violet behind her. “Take this!” I shout, holding out the letter for her to take. She snatches it from my grasp, the paper crinkling in her fist as she takes off down the street.
“Hey!” her father calls out, quickly standing from his seat. “You best tell me right now where you be takin’ my daughters!”
I turn on my heel to follow the girls, when I bump directly into a broad chest. A hand clasps my shoulder, and I look up to see a burly Elvarran sneering down at me.
“Get that halfling girl!” Their father points at me.
Shit.
I quickly move around the burly man. I only get about two steps away before the Elvarran closes a hand around the strap of my satchel, yanking me back. He reaches to grab me, and I swipe my dagger in an arc at him, causing him to step back.
“Don’t come any closer!” I yell, hoping someone nearby will hear the commotion.
The two men laugh. A hand hits my cheek, knocking me into some crates on the side of the street.
My heart pounds furiously as I try to think of a way out.
I am not a fighter, and do not know how to use the blade I am holding.
Even if I did, I am not strong enough to take on a man three times my size. There has to be a diversion somewhere.
The burly Elvarran closes a fist around my scalp, yanking me toward him. I swing the blade, but he grabs my wrist, grip tightening as he twists. Pain shoots through me, bones cracking from the force as I cry out. The dagger tumbles from my grip, clattering to the ground beneath us.
“I ain’t never had halfling pussy,” the man sneers. “Wonder what it feels like.”
A strong gust of wind blows through the street, knocking the man off his feet. I stumble from the gale, my hair whipping wildly around. Turning, I see a silhouette of a man running toward us in the dark.
“Sebastian?” I catch sight of him in the faint light.
“Quite the trouble you’re in,” he says, rushing to my side.
The burly Elvarran has my dagger in his hand as he rushes toward Sebastian. I back away quickly. “That’s my dagger!” I call out as the two spar in a blur of fast-paced movement.
Aurelia’s father reaches me, his wilting hands closing around the front of my dress. “You tell me where my daughters are!” His breath smells of alcohol.
“Get off me!” I shove him back.
He falls back onto the stone. I run to the opposite side of the street, watching Sebastian brawl with the other Elvarran.
Each step is precise, like a well-trained warrior.
Sebastian disarms the man in three swift motions, the blade flying into the air before he effortlessly catches it.
His arm is quick, pinning the blade to the man’s throat.
“Leave. Now,” Sebastian commands.
The man scoffs, pushing Sebastian’s arm away before taking a few sloppy steps back and walking away. Aurelia’s father rises to his feet, his hands curling into fists at his sides as his jaw tightens. His eyes burn into me, a silent promise that I will come to regret this day.
“You’ll pay for this!” he yells, shaking his head as he walks away.
Adrenaline thunders through me like a storm. I hate fighting. Sebastian holds out his arm, returning my dagger to me. When I reach for it, pain shoots up my arm. Sucking in a sharp breath, I cradle my right wrist in my hand.
“What’s wrong?” Sebastian notices my distress.
“My wrist.” I breathe through the pain.
“Come.” He nods in the opposite direction.
I follow him, the two of us walking a short distance to a small wooden cabin on the south side of Khalessor.
Sebastian unlocks the door, opening it for me to enter.
Inside, I walk towards the hearth for warmth and sit on a wooden chair.
On the small table beside me is an envelope and a stamp that bears the symbol of a broken sword emitting rays of light.
Still holding my wrist, I look down at the damage. The skin is bright red, but there are no surface wounds. Every time I try to move it, the ache grows.
Sebastian places another log on the embers to re-ignite the flame. He takes a knee before me. “Let me see,” he says gently.
Holding out my hand, Sebastian tests the joint by moving it slightly, causing me to wince in pain.
Sebastian takes a long strip of cloth and wraps it tightly around my wrist, stabilizing the joint.
My nerves begin to steady as his presence anchors me against the chaos of my evening.
His steady breaths sync with mine as he works, and the frantic beat of my pulse begins to slow.
“I didn’t take you as the fighting type, Raelys.” Sebastian breaks the silence.
“That’s the first time I’ve been in a fight,” I admit, embarrassment flushing my cheeks.
“And did you cause this trouble?” He eyes me with suspicion.
I frown. “I did.” Sebastian laughs at me. “I can explain!” I quickly say.
“Explain.”
“That man was abusing his daughter! Using the little one to beg for coins in the street while he sat on his ass and drank all day!” I tell him, fury filling me. “I helped them escape.”
“That’s quite noble of you.” He returns his attention to my wound, moving his hand to check the scrape on my left arm.
“Did you manipulate the wind?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.
He smiles. “Yes. It’s a simple form of magic.”
“How?” I blink in disbelief.
“Magic is like breathing. Most Elvarrans source it directly from the earth, wielding the elements around us,” Sebastian explains. “But for the last thirteen years, it’s been limited… strained.”
“Because of the curse?” I ask, desperate for information.
He nods. “They call it a curse. I’m not sure I believe that theory either. It’s like the magic was purposefully sealed off.”
“Who would do such a thing?”
Sebastian sighs. “We don’t know who would commit such a heinous act.”
Silence falls between us. I don’t press him further. He is the first person to discuss the curse with me openly, and I don’t want to push the issue. The subject seems sensitive, as if the Elvarrans have lost a part of their soul without the full force of their magic.
“I have something I could use your help with,” I say.
“Yes?”
“Could you write a letter to Cathros…?” I nervously ask. “I’m not sure my brother knows I’m still alive, and I—” I get choked up for a moment. “I want him to know I’m okay.”
The intensity of all I’ve been through bubbles up for the first time.
In a few short weeks, I traveled to two different kingdoms, watched one of them destroyed because of me, stabbed a man in Liora, and potentially took my first life.
Now, I realize that while most Elvarrans are kind to me, there are still dangers I need to look out for.
“I cannot.”
“All right.” I deflate, sitting back in the chair.
“I’m sorry,” he replies coldly. “I cannot contact the South. That is going against my king’s wishes. Your brother likely won’t believe a letter from an Elvarran kingdom anyway, even if I were to send one when I return to Rykaris.”
“You’re leaving?” I say in surprise.
“I’ll be gone for about two weeks.” Sebastian stands. “I must sort out some issues with my lands, meet with my king, and then I’ll return.”
He moves to the other side of the room, stoking the fire and adding another log. The space slowly warms, the soft crackle from the wood comforting my frayed nerves.
“You should stay here. It’s late.” Sebastian pours himself a drink. “I’ll sleep in the chair. You can take the bed.”
I turn my head away from the fire to look at him. “I cannot impose—”
“Then I’m going to have to walk you back to the castle in the cold.” He shrugs. “Your choice.”
“I can walk on my own.”
“Are you always this stubborn?” Sebastian chuckles, the sound melodious. “If you insist on walking alone, then you must let me teach you how to disembowel a man properly.”
A sigh leaves me. I have no idea what I am doing in a fight. Some training could prove helpful if someone were to target me again. “You’ll teach me?”
“Yes.” He sets his empty glass on the counter, picking up my dagger and tossing it to me. “Catch.”
My hand reaches out, but I quickly pull it back in fear I’ll end up slicing my fingers. It hits the side table next to me, the blade sinking into the wood with a loud thunk. I wrap my fingers around the hilt and pull. I have to shake the table a few times to free the dagger.
“That’s a very interesting blade, by the way. Where did you get it?” Sebastian asks curiously as he watches me struggle.
“My dearest friend gave it to me before I left Cathros,” I reply, freeing it from the table. “Why?”
“It’s made of Umbraferr… or more commonly called shadow steel. The ore can only be mined here in Khalessor,” he explains. “And the handle is wrapped in hide, an Elvarran technique.”
Lydia told me she stole it from her father’s collection, but I have to wonder why he had an Elvarran blade at all. It may be a family heirloom, or maybe he traded with someone during his travels. I wonder how rare it is.
I stand from my seat. “I see…” I hesitantly glance between the blade and Sebastian a few times in confusion. “What if I hurt you?”
Sebastian’s lips quirk up. "Are you worried about me?” He pushes the small table to the side, clearing space for us to spar, unfazed by the prospect of me swinging at him with a blade.
He waits at the ready, knees slightly bent as he braces for me to attack him. I step closer, trying to figure out how to hold it, when Sebastian swiftly disarms me, the blade slipping from my grasp as he takes it.
“I wasn’t ready!” I exclaim.
“There’s no such thing as ready in battle.” He flips the blade around in his fingertips, holding the handle out for me to take once more. “Now, try to strike me. Aim for the heart, eyes, or ribs. If you puncture a lung, it will take a man out.”
I strike, but Sebastian stops my advancement. “You must strike with your whole body, not just your arm. Put force behind the blow.” He steps behind me to adjust how I hold the blade.
Using the closeness of our bodies, I strike again. This time, I catch the fabric on Sebastian’s tunic. He swears under his breath, and a wicked grin forms on his lips. “Again.”