CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nyssa arrived at her café the next morning to find Alaric, Elowen and Liora already waiting outside for her, seemingly as eager to solve their Morven problem as she was.
‘Li mentioned you found something written in old druidic – can I take a look?’ Alaric asked once they were inside and huddled around the table near the hearth.
Autumn was slowly turning to winter now, and Nyssa shifted closer to the crackling warmth of the flames to thaw the ice in her veins.
She still felt raw from the night before, both magically and emotionally, but she’d also awoken at the crack of dawn with a renewed sense of determination that had her scribbling more notes.
‘The first part mentions something about an elven artefact,’ she said, placing the tome open on the page she’d bookmarked, along with the new notes she’d taken.
‘I cross-referenced it with a few other tomes, and there were two brief mentions of this elven artefact, alongside how to use it in druidic ritual. One of the tomes specifically refers to the artefact as an “orb” – if my translation of the elven is correct, of course – so I figure if we can find the orb, and determine the ritual, we might be able to combine them with a high-level imprisonment spell to trap Morven for good.’ She tapped the passage she’d found with Liora.
‘This bit here mentions that the artefact was one that can “offer great protection” – does it ring any bells, El?’
Elowen pursed her lips. She looked particularly pretty today, with her short hair blown about her face and her cheeks pinked from the cold.
It was frustratingly distracting. ‘Maybe – the elven clans have a lot of artefacts, and many of them can be used for protection, but …’ She paused to look over the passage of text.
‘Hmm, it mentions the artefact was hidden. That means it’s rare, and powerful …
which doesn’t narrow it down much, I’m afraid.
’ Elowen let out a small sigh and glanced up at Alaric, whose brow was growing increasingly furrowed as his eyes roved over the page. ‘Does it say anything else, Ric?’
When Alaric didn’t immediately reply, Liora threw a cushion at him. ‘Earth to Alaric!’
The druid caught the ‘weapon’ and tossed it on to the ground, where Nyx, who had been sitting beside the hearth, immediately laid herself on top of it with a pleased chirp.
‘I heard you! This druidic is old – older than the kind we learned in my clan. It’ll take me a while to decipher it, I’m afraid. ’
Nyssa tried not to let her disappointment show. ‘It’s fine.’
‘I’ll reach out to an old friend from my clan in the meantime,’ Elowen said, ‘they might be able to find out more about this artefact.’
Nyssa offered her a grateful smile. ‘Thank you.’
Without the translation, they had no choice but to put their research on hold.
The waiting might have driven Nyssa mad if it weren’t for the reopening of Teas and Tales.
Somehow, the accident she’d thought would drive the citizens of Nighthaven away had only made them more eager to show their support, and Nyssa’s days had become so busy that she had no time to dwell on Morven.
The same couldn’t be said for her feelings for Elowen.
It was impossible not to dwell on them. The elf was there most days, beautiful and elegant as she smiled at customers and helped explain the rules of various board games, her laughter tinkling like a bell through the café.
Thankfully, things between them had fallen back into the same easy, natural rhythm they’d had before Elowen had healed her wounds.
And despite Nyssa’s confused feelings, she’d found herself laughing alongside her when Alaric would make one of his dry, sarcastic jokes, or sharing silent, just-for-them smiles when Gwen would bring in a new selection of tea blends for them to serve.
The roster of regulars at Teas and Tales was also ever-growing: Madame Jeanne had taken to staying for at least half an hour to savour a cup of tea after delivering a fresh batch of cinnamon buns each morning, while Azalea often brought fresh flowers to decorate the tables and ended up spending a few hours playing games with Alaric or Liora.
There was also the growing group of younger magical folk who had begun spending more and more time at the café, led by Felix and Torin’s example.
Nyssa knew she wasn’t meant to have favourites, but she was particularly fond of Mr Lefton’s much nicer niece, Amarys, who had heard of her uncle’s incident with Nyx and declared she’d simply had to meet the familiar herself.
There was also the sweet little teenage half-elf named Fen who Nyssa was sure was somewhat taken with Torin.
‘Look at how Fen laughs at everything Torin says,’ Nyssa had murmured to Liora and Gwen one sunny Tuesday morning from behind the counter.
‘He’s sweet, don’t get me wrong, but he definitely isn’t that funny,’ Gwen chimed in, nodding in agreement.
Liora cast a furtive glance over to the corner where Torin was leaning over the small coffee table, explaining to Fen, Felix and Amarys the rules of Brownie’s Revenge – a roleplaying game in which each player gained the appearance and voice of their chosen goblin and had to try to figure out which of them was the one out for revenge.
Liora’s eyes widened slightly as she took in the scene, a smile pulling at Gwen’s lips.
‘Oh, you’re so right – Fen’s smitten!’ the bard whispered with glee, and the three of them dissolved into giggles as they watched Torin growing steadily pinker under Fen’s gaze.
They barely had time to linger on the blossoming romance, though, as a fresh wave of customers escaping the icy November winds had them rushing to take orders and brew fresh pots of tea once again.
Nyssa walked into The Pixie’s Grove tavern that night to a chorus of welcomes, settled herself at the table Elowen always reserved for her and their friends, and was served her usual drink without having to order.
It didn’t take long for her friends to join her.
One by one, Liora, Alaric and Elowen settled themselves at the table.
‘Are we good to talk?’ Alaric asked, glancing around at the few crowded tables. The place was quieter tonight, as it always was in the middle of the week, and even though they trusted the citizens of Nighthaven with most things, this was something they didn’t want getting out.
Nyssa flashed him the privacy charm she’d brought with her – a small silver bracelet with a silencing enchantment woven into the metal links. ‘All good. People will hear us talking, but they won’t be able to figure out what we’re saying.’
Liora cleared her throat and, in a loud, clear voice, said, ‘Alaric likes to cuddle his favourite stuffed animal when he sleeps!’
Nyssa snorted as Alaric balked. He glanced around the room, shoulders tense, as he waited for the tavern-goers to turn his way. When no one did, Liora shot him a wide, innocent smile. ‘Looks like the charm works!’
Alaric pointed an accusing finger at her. ‘You’re an absolute menace, Liora Melswift.’
‘Someone has to keep you on your toes.’
‘I’ll have you know—’
‘As amusing as this is,’ Nyssa interrupted, her lips twitching, ‘I feel it is my duty to step in before complete chaos ensues. Alaric, how goes the translation?’
‘This isn’t over, bard.’ The smile twisting Alaric’s lips and the gentle, almost fond expression he wore was at odds with the threat.
He rummaged inside his long woollen coat and withdrew a folded piece of parchment, which he smoothed out on to the table and twisted around so Nyssa could read.
‘It’s rough, and some of the words might not be quite right, but this is what I have. ’
Nyssa leaned in, her stomach fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement as she read Alaric’s elegant scrawl.
Centuries ago, the elves hid an artefact of immense power, one believed to offer great protection to any who knew how to activate it. The artefact, which was created by the first elven clan, was once used in a sacred ritual to ward the clan members against a formidable enemy.
Elowen, who was pressed close to Nyssa’s side as she read alongside her, let out a small gasp. ‘This is talking about the Orb of Guardianship.’
Hope flared in Nyssa’s stomach, as warm and intoxicating as the way Elowen’s closeness made her feel. Finally, we’re getting somewhere. ‘Do you think it could help us?’ she asked.
‘From the tales I’ve heard of it, absolutely.
All elven artefacts are intricately connected to the spiritual plane of this world, where every elf channels their power from.
Which means using one during a spell or ritual can greatly enhance it – the Orb of Guardianship did just that, when the first elven clans used it to stop a creature of innate chaos from being able to enter the living realm. ’
‘That’s exactly the sort of thing we need,’ Nyssa said, her fingertips tingling with magic. Apparently, her power was just as excited at the prospect of imprisoning Morven for good as she was. ‘Do you know where it is?’
A small sigh escaped Elowen’s lips. ‘No. Its location remains a mystery to those but the most powerful clan leaders.’
The flame of hope that had started in Nyssa’s stomach winked out.
‘Great,’ Liora huffed, sinking into her chair. ‘Is there any way to do the kind of spell you’re thinking of without the orb, Nys?’
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, trying to hide the deflated edge to her voice.
Liora groaned. ‘So we’re back to the drawing board, then.’