Chapter 20
Nell
“Did none of you feel that... that giving the arrow to Kaelisar was wrong?” I ask with a long sigh, looking at them one by one. “I mean, deeply wrong. Like the arrow itself didn't want to go with him and was begging us not to let him take it.”
Althea frowns, spinning the obsidian stone between her fingers much faster than usual. Small sparks occasionally jump from it.
“I felt discomfort,” she admits. “But not at the level you're describing.”
“I also sensed something,” Sylara confesses, lowering her tone until it becomes a whisper. “A kind of... resistance, I think that would be the right word.”
I turn toward Sabina, who keeps her gaze fixed on her wine glass.
“I also felt something weird. The water around the arrow was agitated,” she acknowledges.
“It was subtle, but it was there, I have no doubt about that.
A vibration of... fear, maybe. It seemed like fear to me, but it doesn't make any sense because the arrow is an inanimate object without any kind of feelings.”
I let out a breath. I'm not crazy after all.
“For me it was like a scream,” I explain, hugging myself. “Like the arrow was asking for help. That's why I felt the impulse to attack Kaelisar to take it from him and run away.”
Althea gets up from her seat and sits next to me. She presses against me and her body transmits a warmth that contrasts with Sabina's coolness. I feel strangely good between them.
“There was nothing you could have done,” the Kobold assures, putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against her. “Confronting Kaelisar is suicide. You saw it with your own eyes.”
“I know,” I murmur, leaning against her shoulder. “But that doesn't make me feel better. I can't shake the feeling that we failed that arrow, and now the consequences could be disastrous.”
Sylara approaches and kneels in front of me, taking my hands in hers and squeezing them slightly.
“Kaelisar is too strong an enemy and a manipulator,” she whispers, seeking my gaze.
We remain like this for several minutes, in a strangely comfortable silence that seems to heal something inside me.
Sabina strokes my back in small circles, while Althea keeps me anchored with her arm over my shoulders.
The elf hasn't released my hands, and her thumbs trace patterns over my knuckles.
It's very strange. I feel protected. Valued. And something more I prefer not to think about.
“What do we know about the other artifacts?” I ask, breaking the silence. “The sphere and the mirror.”
Sabina sighs, and her breath caresses my cheek.
“They're very powerful objects, just like the arrow. We'll worry about them when we have additional information. None of us wants to hand them over to Kaelisar, you can be sure of that. But we don't have another alternative.”
“And when he gets all three?” I ask.
“A portal between realms is formed,” Althea explains. “Or so they say, at least. One that Kaelisar can't create on his own due to his exile.”
“Yeah, and that's not good for anyone. Do we know where the other two artifacts are?”
Sylara shakes her head, causing her braid to swing.
“We have some clues, but nothing concrete yet,” she explains. “Kaelisar will contact us when the time comes. For now, the only thing we can do is rest and focus on your training.”
“You need to learn to control your element much better than now,” the Kobold adds. “What you did with the safe was impressive, but you've barely scratched the surface of what you'll be capable of doing when you master air.”
I look at the clock, and the idea of not being close to them gives me a sensation of loss I can't understand. In just a few days, these three creatures have become too important to me.
“I still have to study the book,” I sigh, looking for excuses not to leave. “And I wouldn't like to take it to my apartment. You already saw what happened last time. Can I leave it here and come every day to read it?”
“Or you can stay with us,” Althea proposes so quickly it surprises me.
“We have plenty of space,” Sylara adds, squeezing my hands. “And it would be much more practical for your training.”
Sabina stays silent, her green eyes fixed on some distant point. For a moment I think the idea doesn't appeal to her at all.
“It's better if you stay,” she says in a low voice, almost shy, something very far from her usual way of being. “You'd be safer here. With us.”
Then she smiles and, unexpectedly, kisses me on the cheek, so close to the corner of my lips that my heart skips several beats.
“Thank you,” is all I can respond, too aware of the intensity with which all three are watching me.