23. Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
Rawn
T he dwarf postman poured a dollop of red wax on the envelop and Rawn pressed his signet ring into it, sealing the envelop closed. He reached into his pocket and placed the carving of a wolf figurine with it.
“To Greenwood by portal, please.”
“Province and size?” The sun mage beside the dwarf asked in a bored tone. He sat in a stool at the service counter, playing with a wisp of flame between his fingers.
“Sellav Province,” Rawn replied as he placed a silver coin on the counter to cover the postage. “Standard size. Instant delivery and confirmation if you will. No expected letter in return.”
“Orbital address?” The mage nodded and held open his palm. He held a dark green crystal patterned in lighter green. Malachite. The surface was carved with the porta rune.
Lucenna had told him he would need to acquire such a crystal to open his own courier portals.
Rawn lightly tapped his ring against the crystal, and both lit up with magic, a sign the crystal had connected with the enchanted letterbox located in his home. The mage’s eyes glowed orange as a spiraling portal about five inches in diameter formed between them. The dwarf inserted the letter and the wooden wolf statuette inside.
The mage’s gaze went distant for a moment. Rawn held his breath, always feeling nervous at this part. “Delivery confirmed.”
The portal winked closed out of existence.
Rawn exhaled with a smile. “Thank you.”
“A pleasure,” the mage replied drearily. “Have a fine day. Next!”
Slipping past the waiting line, Rawn went out the double doors of the courier’s office. Fair waited for him outside.
“First order of business is complete,” Rawn told him, untying the reins from the hitching post.
There were a few things to pick up from the market before returning to the inn. If they managed to set sail tomorrow, they would need to be well equipped for a journey at sea.
After traveling discreetly for so long, it made Rawn nervous to walk among so many elves. But no one paid attention to him. He was merely another face in the throng, and the glamour spell had held well. Rawn inserted some beeswax in his ears to dull the constant din of the market. By his third purchase in the mariner’s street, the tension eased out of his shoulders.
“Lemon linctus, milord?” an old herbologist offered, holding up a dark brown bottle. “A spoonful a day keeps the scurvy at bay.”
“You’ll need salt to keep your fish unspoiled at sea.” The elderly woman beside her thrust a burlap sack in Rawn’s face next.
“Oh, um…” His response was drowned out when the women instantly bickered over who should have the sale. He quietly slipped away.
A flash of yellow flitted past the edge of his vision. Instantly, he thought of Princess Keena, but when Rawn looked, his eyes locked on another standing a few feet away from him.
He recognized the elf’s cornflower eyes and long acorn brown hair, but his mind was slow to understand. Because it couldn’t be possible. He had not seen this face in over twenty years. Two small elven boys with dark brown curls clung to each of the male’s hands.
“Pardon…” Rawn took a step forward, a part of him waiting for the illusion to vanish. His throat tightened when it didn’t. “Sy?”
The male turned to him, confused at first by the stranger Rawn appeared to be, until his gaze settled on Rawn’s eyes. Recognition flashed through him.
Rawn peeled off the glamour and whispered. “Sylar, is that you?”
As if the sound of his voice struck him, his old friend flinched back. He snatched up the boys in his arms—and ran.
“Sylar!” Rawn called in confusion. “Wait, Sy!”
He sprinted after him. But trying to maneuver the thick crowd with Fair made it difficult to keep up. Rawn soon lost sight of him. He couldn’t have disappeared that quickly.
Rawn spotted him dark into an alley, and he follow him inside. “Sy.”
Sylar whipped around, and his wet eyes wide. “Rawn…” Fear marinated the world. He clutched the boys tightly to his chest. “Whatever my fate, I accept it. But please, do not harm them.”
Rawn’s brow furrowed with further confusion at the plea. “Sy, I—” He stilled at the cold press of a dagger at his throat.
“It’s unwise to follow another into an alley alone, Lord Norrlen. Many dangerous folk about.” It was a voice he had heard only a handful of times, but Rawn recognized Elon all the same.
He stilled merely out of further utter confusion to find them together. He didn’t understand what was happening or why Sylar looked terrified of him.
Rawn held out his hands in surrender. “I am not here to hurt you.”
Sylar’s wide eyes flicked from him to Elon, then to the boys. They couldn’t have been more than four years old. They whimpered, their teary eyes warm brown.
Red elves.
“Who is he, papa?” one asked Sylar.
Rawn’s mouth parted with a shallow inhale. “They are yours?”
“They are,” Elon said icily in his ear. “So you understand why I cannot let you live.”
The possessiveness behind the claim answered Rawn’s questions all at once, while striking him with new ones.
A containment dome slammed down around Sylar and the boys. They cried and Elon hissed. Lucenna appeared from the other end of the alley with Klyde at her side.
From behind Rawn, footsteps idly approached, followed by a feral growl.
“I’m afraid I cannot allow that,” came Dyna’s cool voice and he felt Elon stiffen. “Step away my Guidelander, Lieutenant. I will not ask twice.”
Elon slowly lifted the blade from Rawn’s neck and moved back. He was dressed in a dark heavy cloak over his armor. His amber eyes fixed on Dyna, shocked to see her as well.
She came up beside Rawn on his right and nodded at Lucenna. The containment dome on Sylar disappeared. “I have never seen you as my enemy, Elon. Am I wrong?”
Elon didn’t answer.
Nor did he reach for the sword at his hip, but Rawn felt the tension of his magic gathering in the air as he backed toward Sylar and the boys, keeping them in his sights. Lucenna and Klyde moved to join Dyna’s side. Zev growled steadily on Rawn’s left.
“How did you find me?” Sylar asked shakily. He stepped closer to the Lieutenant. One of the Elvin boys reached for Elon, and he took him in his arms without taking his eyes off them.
As Rawn studied at them together, he finally understood.
They were a family.
It was no wonder Sylar ran and why Elon was ready to slaughter him. A red elf and green elf union was forbidden. Punishable by death in the Vale of the Elves.
Rawn sighed, offering Sylar a faint, confused smile. “By chance, Sy. I never expect to see you again. I thought … I thought you were dead.”
Sylar lowered his gaze.
“God of Urn as my witness, I give you my oath that I mean you nor your family any harm.”
There was a pause as Elon and Sylar exchanged a look. Then the violent energy in the air slowly faded. Sylar took a breath and closed his eyes. An elf’s word was his bond. They both knew that.
“Then what is your business here?” Elon demanded.
Dyna’s smirk grew as she crossed her arms. “I’m here to kill Tarn.”
They couldn’t be out in the open. A group gathered would draw the eye, and when Lucenna mentioned seeing Red Highland soldiers arrive at the station, Elon wanted to leave immediately. Rawn knew it was best to hide too, but he had questions that only Sylar could answer.
His old friend reluctantly brought them to their home to a more secluded rural area on the edge of the city. It was a hovel really. A place to lay low.
Rawn sat with Sylar at their small table. Elon stood beside his mate like a sentinel. Both held onto the boys sleeping in their arms. Zev, Lucenna, and Klyde had gone out to stake the area in case they were followed. Dyna stayed with him. She leaned against the wall beside the door with her arms crossed, looking out the window. It was too dark to see anything except what the moonlight allowed.
The long silence was awkward, neither of them knowing where to start. Rawn let his eyes wander around the small hut. He could cross it in ten strides. There wasn’t much but a sturdy bed of straw in the corner, a wardrobe for clothing, a threadbare couch by the hearth, then the kitchen where they sat now.
The kettle on small bubbling over the fire broke the quiet with a low whistle of steam. Sylar poured them both a cup of tea and the scent of nettle and honey warmed the chilly air.
“Thank you,” Rawn accepted the cup as they met each other’s gazes across the table. “It’s good to see you.”
Sylar’s expression softened, thought it was shadowed by remorse. “It is good to see you as well. How … how is my father?”
“I have not seen Eldred in sometime, but I believe he is well.” Rawn hoped he was.
Sylar nodded and they fell into another lapse of silence.
“What happened?” he finally asked. “Why didn’t you come back?”
“How could I? I gave you my word I would return with your sister, and I couldn’t keep it.” Sylar looked down at his son and his eyes welled. “By the time I arrived, it was too late. They had already … what they did to Nisa…” His misted eyes met his. “I heard your screams when you found her, Rawn. I felt your pain as they dragged me away. Even if I had not been caught, I didn’t have the courage to face you.”
Rawn shut his eyes with the horrid memories of the day he found her.
Anon had carved his name into Nisa’s chest. He had cut away the emblem form her cheek. The rage Rawn felt, the sorrow, it was like something had taken over him. He had hunted down any remaining red elves that he could find and slaughtered them all.
Only Anon had escaped him.
A tear rolled down Sy’s cheek. “If we ever met again, I was sure you would…”
“Kill you for it?” Rawn guessed. He had been so lost after his sister died, drunk on the bloodshed, perhaps he might have. He looked at the sleeping boy Sylar held, then to Elon standing guard over them. “It was more than guilt that kept you away.”
Sylar’s throat bobbed. Elon laid a hand on his shoulder. Both a silent claim and a warning. His cool amber eyes held his.
Eyes, Rawn finally realized, he had seen before. “I see now where you have heard of me,” he said. “You and I, we have met before, haven’t we, Elon? The day outside of Willows Grove was the not the first time we crossed swords.”
“What?” Dyna straightened. “You have meet him before.”
“He is a Force Sentry,” Rawn said. “Elite Red Highland soldiers specially trained to conduct secretive operations for the crown.” He clenched the cup of tea in his hand, feeling it burn against his palm. “You were there in Erendor, when your prince came for my princess.”
Elon remained silent and completely still. But if Rawn knew anything, the elf had already calculated all the ways to kill him if he made any move he deemed threatening.
“He no longer serves the Red King,” Sylar said quickly. “He took no part in your sister’s torture … only mine.” That broke the stark tension in the small room. Emotion at last crossed Elon’s face as he looked down at Sy. It was hardly visible. No words were spoken but Sylar’s eyes saddened at whatever was communicated between them. “I was held in the dungeons beneath the Blood Keep for weeks.”
Rawn’s stomach pitched. He had heard stories of the torture captured elves endured there. All prayed for a quick death, and most didn’t find it.
Sylar’s gaze went distant as he stared at the wall blankly. “I refuse to divulge any information on my kingdom, not that I knew much. The time I spent there …” His voice dropped low. “I would not wish it upon my worst enemy.”
Elon lowered himself to his knees, looking at him in a way that could only be described as remorseful.
Sylar smiled at him faintly. “You did what you were trained to do, El. At first it was your duty, then you did it to spare me, so others would not do worse. But you got me out. Here we are, safe and free, with our boys.”
Elon wiped the tears from Sylar’s cheek, exposing the circular scar on the back of his hand.
“You defected,” Rawn realized. “When you escaped Red Highland with Sylar. You chose him over your king.”
Elon stood. “What do you intend to do?”
“Do?” Rawn frowned. “I have no intention of reporting you if that is your concern. The way you chose to live is no business of mine. I am also a wanted elf, if you recall.” He looked at Sylar. “As far as Greenwood knows, you died with Nisa.”
Sylar sighed. “Thank you.”
“He is here on another mission,” Dyna supplied.
“For King Leif?” Sy grew concerned again. “Against Red Highland.”
Rawn nodded.
“What does that have to do with Tarn?” Elon asked next.
“Only that we are headed to the same place,” Dyna replied for him. She canted her head as she studied Elon. “I always sensed you served him out of duty as well, but not out of loyalty. As you are here now, I suppose that means you no longer serve your old master either.”
Elon didn’t reply, though the answer was clear.
“Where is Von?” she asked next. “Is he with Tarn?”
No answer again. Man of little words.
Dyna smiled. “You won’t tell us because you are loyal—to Von . Well, he is one of my Guardians. I am on his side, too.”
There was a perceptible pause after that reveal, though it didn’t seem to surprise Elon.
“We set course for Kelpway tomorrow,” Rawn said.
Elon’s eyes narrowed. “Tarn is there.”
“We know,” Dyna said.
A quiet knock came at the door. Klyde, Lucenna, and Zev reentered the house.
“We weren’t followed,” Zev confirmed, shaking off the few drops of rain in his hair.
“But we cannot return to the city,” Lucenna added. “I saw them, Rawn. A squad of elvish soldiers coming into the square, clad in red. It might be travelers but…”
“They are not travelers.” Elon met his gaze. “They know, Lord Norrlen. Red Highland knows you are here, and they have come.”