Chapter Twenty-Two
Wyatt
My pulse gallops, wondering if I made a mistake mentioning Andi’s mark. Could he be after her as well?
“Looking for who?” I ask with faux curiosity.
“Andrina Tanith.”
I shrug. “Don’t know her.”
“Don’t play games with me, Wyatt. I know you’re lying.” He holds up his hand, pointing to the silver ring on his finger, its large blue sapphire lustres against the light of the fire. “This ring burns my skin whenever someone lies to me. And it pisses me off. Where is she?”
I gulp hard. Well, isn’t that a handy little trinket, a truth finder ring. What next, a presence sensing necklace?
Caelan rises, walking over to his table at the far end of the room, overflowing with sensational-smelling food and a flagon of wine. He pours two goblets and hands one to me.
“You’re protective of her? Good. She’ll need it. I presume you know her story?” Reluctantly, I nod. “I was a commander for her grandfather. I swore on my life to protect the Tanith’s. I failed them. But I can help Andrina.”
Studying his body language, he appears to be truthful, although I don’t have one of those fanciful rings.
“She left for Yiren to find a priest who could help with her magic. Though that was weeks ago, I have no idea where she is now.” I lower my head, shaking it. “I promised to look after her family—our family, and failed. I need to find them.”
Caelan gathers the men around in a quiet discussion, murmuring to each other.
The chief watches their expressions and the tones of their voices.
I focus on the hut. To my right is a desk, overrun with parchments and a covered map; some silver goblets, and a table full of bread rolls, cured ham, cheese slices, along with cut fruit resting beside a pile of plates.
To my left is a rack, filled with weapons, bows and arrows, crossbows, long and short swords, rapiers, daggers, the list is endless.
My eyes light up at the sight. I imagine learning to use them, bopping around the battlefield like Myles did at the temple.
Slicing and stabbing my enemies, feeling their lives drift away.
The dirt-covered floor stings my knees. I wriggle around, trying to bring feeling back to my numbing feet. One of the men stops and turns to me. I pause, in a now awkward position, and wait patiently while my whole body aches.
The talking stops, the men gaze at each other in silence, then, with a quick nod from Caelan, a man saunters over to me. Taking a dagger from its sheath, he spins it in his hand. He’s going to kill me. I close my eyes, waiting for the strike.
But it doesn’t come, I feel a swipe at the rope on my wrists as he slits them free.
I rub my wrists where the rope has chafed, it stings, but I ignore the pain because I’m finally free. I honestly thought I was done for. Caelan motions for me to sit in a chair beside him. I stand on shaky legs that tingle as they slowly but surely wake up.
“Hungry? Thirsty?”
I nod, he indicates to one of the men who walks over to the table of food and then hands me a goblet and a plate.
I cautiously take the goblet from him, wary of what it contains, but the sweet fruit smell is too appealing, so I gulp it down in one go. The cured ham melts in my mouth, and my stomach grumbles in delight.
Worried it’ll be the last I see for a while, I stuff it all in my mouth. Caelan watches me with a sympathetic smile on his face.
“We are the Unbound. A group of people who have come together to live peaceful lives, since our towns and villages had been ransacked or brutalised. We take justice into our own hands. Here, we are a family, albeit a dysfunctional one, but we look out for our own.” He motions to his men.
The men grunt and ‘Aye’ in agreement.
“I know you want to leave and find your family; I can’t stop you. But I wouldn’t recommend doing that alone. Untrained, you will be dead within a week. If you choose to stay here, we could help you, train you. Together we can find your family.”
“Stay here? After you threw me in a pit and left me there?” I scoff.
“It was nothing personal. If we really wanted to hurt you, we would have put you in the clifftop cage, where predators roam and feed.”
Oh great, guess I should be thankful. “You would help me find them?”
Caelan nods, “There are tests to pass first, but yes.”
Tests? What kind of tests could there be? It doesn’t matter what they are, I have no choice. I have to pass them if I want to help Nia and Elana. “Okay, I’ll stay. But I want to go out and find them as soon as I can.”
“Let’s welcome Wyatt.” One by one, the men introduce themselves. I’ll try to let go of my grudges for Nia and Elana’s sake. I’ll train and become better, tougher. I won’t fail again.
“My name is Arel, from Nymanora.” He holds his hand on his heart and bows his head. “Caelan found me wandering, many moons ago, and brought me to this… sanctuary. I’m lucky to call it home, as will you.”
I recognise a few who deigned to visit me in my muddy abode. Arel, the elf. Aron, the one I spilled my secrets to. Kaleb, the big guy who came with Arel, I underestimated his stature. And Izaac, the shy guy who came with Aron.
That’s not even half of them; I’ve already forgotten the names of the others. Some regard me as nothing more than filth, like a scurrying rat invading their home and ready to steal what’s theirs.
Next to speak is a man who happily hides in the shadows, a scarf remains around his neck, hiding most of his face.
“Ronan,” he grunts. His expression is hidden, but his eyes remain guarded.
“As you can guess, Ronan is not much of a talker but piss him off and he’ll let you know. He’s been with us about six years now, I think?” Caelan looks at Ronan for confirmation, and Ronan shrugs, unwilling to give any more to the conversation.
After the last of them introduces themselves, the room slips into a silence, and my eyes droop. I haven’t slept properly in so long, I fear I’ll pass out where I sit.
Caelan nudges me. “Arel will show you where you can rest. Tomorrow we’ll start the trials to test your skills, if you truly wish to join us, that is.”
I sleepily smile and nod at the invitation.
Arel leads me to a small hut with ivy growing up the sides and along the roof, easily disguised from above if needed.
I stumble after him, lacking the energy to stay upright.
Inside is modest: a bed, a sink, a chest of drawers, and a chair with a small window to the left.
“This is you. Sleep well, I’ll bring some food later in the evening.” Arel bows his head and closes the door. I fall onto the bed, unable to remove my clothes or shoes, falling into a slumber before my head hits the pillow.
My stomach wakes me in the morning, grumbling loud enough to alert the entire village. Guess I slept through the evening meal delivery.
I lift my throbbing head and splash cold water on my face, the vile smell stemming from me is enough to make an ogre turn his nose in disgust. Opening the door for some fresh air to drive out the stench, I find a small basket with some clean clothes and the elf strolling along the path that leads to my little hut.
“You sleep like the dead. I was banging on the door for an age. Holy…” He gags, wafting his nose. “Let me introduce you to the springs. You can walk behind me, otherwise I will vomit.”
Are all elves as abrupt as he is? He is the first I’ve ever met, so I have nothing to go on. I follow behind him, my unpleasant aroma sailing downwind.
The hot springs are the best thing about Nu’cov.
Hidden in the mountain caves, with a stream of new liquid and a crack in the corner that drains old, filthy water, replacing it with clean hot bubbles.
Rocks protrude from the stone walls, containing a variety of natural soaps.
Scrubbing my skin raw, letting the bubbles wash over me, the perfumed aroma relaxes my aching muscles, having been idle for too long.
Elana would lose her mind at this. My heart drops in my chest with guilt.
How shitty am I for feeling a smidgen of relief while soaking in this paradise?
A clattering of rocks disturbs my quiet. Arel mentioned mountain gnomes that dwell in the crevices, small harmless creatures that Caelan found and accommodated some years ago. They like to busy themselves by keeping the village clean and tidy, using any scraps they find for their quarters.
Drying myself off, I quickly dress in the new clothes: beige tunic and black trousers with heavy black boots—the uniform for Nu’cov I presume. I toss the old ones to the side. If the gnomes want them, they can have them, or they can be burned for all I care.
The chat with Caelan replays in my head while I walk back down the winding rocky track. Did he say something about tests, or did I dream that? The debate went on for so long, I’m surprised I didn’t doze off.
Heading down the path, I scan around me for an exit I could use to slip away into the night. But surrounding this small town is nothing but mountains and trees. I don’t have time for tests and training. Nia and Elana are gone, trapped. I need to get to them. I need to find a way out.
Arel sits hunched over on a broken log outside of my temporary hut, intrigued by whatever is in his hands.
I’m awestruck being in such proximity to one of the legendary elves, having spent a lot of my childhood immersed in tales of the elf wars, learning the history of the battle between the light and dark elves.
He is just as I imagined an elf being: tall and slender, with strong, sharp facial features, and long blonde—almost silver hair framing his bright golden eyes.
Beside him sits a basket of food and water, which I take gladly. Arel looks up from a small piece of wood he is carving, as I slump down beside him, munching on salted crackers.
“What’re you making?” I ask curiously, pointing to the wood.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“I used to carve wood too, my… uh… dad taught me how.” A smile spreads on my face, remembering the time we spent whittling together. “Haven’t done it since he died.” I shake off the despondency that begins to settle, thanking him for the food.
“Let me show you around,” he says, indicating for me to follow him.
The village is quite large; they have made a proper town here. Huts were set up as bakeries, blacksmiths, and a temple for those who pray to the gods. All the huts are the same, ivy-coated, concealing them as part of the landscape.
In a fenced-off field to the far right, men, women, and children participate in training, with both weapons and hand-to-hand combat. It's hypnotic watching them move with grace and skill.
Tall trees surround the village, the perfect hidden hideaway. Unlucky for me, I’ve yet to find a way out. I’d hoped with this little tour I could suss out the terrain, instead, all I have deciphered is that I’m trapped.
Fucking dammit.
“There are only two accessible exits out of here, through the way you came and through the tree and across the pond. Neither of which will get you very far without being seen,” Arel says woefully.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, so if Caelan asks, you know nothing.
He has already sent out scouts to locate your family.
He reckons they’re being taken to Zury.”
The tour continues, Arel indicates a wooden building, covered with a green plant–climbing hydrangea.
Can’t say I’m one for plants; they all look the same to me, the only one I can name is Ivy, and that’s only from Nia’s cottage.
I’m told this building is where everyone eats together as a family, and that I should start joining them for meals.
“Where does the food come from?”
“Most is home-grown from the farms or the gardens, but what we can’t produce ourselves, we obtain through a local village across the lake every month or so.”
Ideas run through my head, what are the chances I could slip aboard one of the boats when they come by for their monthly drop off? Nodding, I feign interest in the goings on of the village so as not to indicate my escape plan.
“You have another month before they come back. In case you’re planning a swift getaway.” Shit, there goes that idea.
Arel points out a huge cabin beside the river, the schoolhouse. Many children rush from all directions carrying large, heavy satchels as a bell chimes, readying for another day of school after morning chores or training, it looks like.
Next to the schoolhouse is a small hut, the door is open; inside I spy bottles and ointment tubs, and a table with a white cotton sheet spread over the top. Medical tools are set up on a tabletop with a young woman pottering around within.
“Seema is our local healer. If you’re ever injured, there is no one better.”
Arel’s words fade as the woman steps out of the door and heads to a little garden, snipping herbs and such for her remedies, her gaze meets ours with the glimpse of a smile.
She is beautiful, tall, and slender, with silver hair braided down her back. Similar to Arel, except her skin has a greyish tinge to it. My eyes shoot open, realising she is a dark elf.
Arel grabs my arms and drags me away, his cheeks flush a rose pink as he tirelessly looks over his shoulder.
“See something you like, do you?”
Fumbling over his words, he splutters, “What—I—Don’t.”
“She’s a dark elf, right?” He nods, and I steal another glance over my shoulder, smirking at him.
She is beautiful, in a mysterious sort of way.
Dark elves were often thought of as evil, but the fact that she is a healer to everyone within this community shows that it was fabricated to make the light elves appear to be the good guys.
This place is one of a kind. I don’t think there is anywhere else on this land where different species co-exist so harmoniously.
Everyone we pass watches me cautiously. I wave, showing I’m not a threat, some wave back and give me a welcoming smile, others look at me in distrust.
Finally, we arrive at the cave entrance where we came through yesterday, one of my exits, although it seems there is always a lookout. Disheartened, I look out at the village. It’s beautiful and peaceful, I can see why so many have settled here.
Caelan steps out of his hut with a few followers, waving us down.
“Alright, Wyatt. Ready for your first trial?” Everyone looks at me with a mischievous grin.
I have no idea what to expect, but I know failing is not an option.