25. Ava #3
He placed the coin into the palm of her hand.
It wasn’t quite round in shape, a little ragged in areas as if it had been hastily made, and silver in color.
A rune resembling a lightning bolt had been stamped on the back of the coin.
She wasn’t familiar enough to know the worth of the human currency cradled in her palm.
“Is this one worth much?” she asked with a laugh.
His grin widened. “Oh, aye. Worth lots.”
She looked down at the small coin and shook her head. “You’re teasing me.”
When she tried to hand back the coin, he slipped his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “I never take back gifts. Especially from elvish lasses who have a bit of dragon in them.”
Heat blazed in her cheeks.
“Well, um, thank you.” She slipped the coin into her pocket, unsure what use she would ever have for it but pleased by the sentiment. “You must pull a lot of coins from your wife’s ears. She’s very pretty!”
He grinned and leaned a shoulder against the wall, casting a dreamy look toward the ceiling. “Oh, aye, the fairest of the fair, that one. Love of my heart. I don’t know what I would do without her.”
Ava’s breath pulled taut as she thought about how she would go on without Jerrid and Dragon when this was all over and they went their separate ways.
When he had left for Eroth, he made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t interested in anything more than fulfilling his duty of keeping her safe.
A kiss was just a kiss, after all. It didn’t mean anything.
At least, it hadn’t meant anything to Jerrid.
Surely, he would have said something before leaving if he cared about her. Dragon’s intimate insinuations about coming back for her… They meant nothing if Jerrid didn’t agree with him. And it seemed like Dragon was keeping these feelings to himself. He wasn’t telling Jerrid everything.
She had no idea what Jerrid thought of her.
It was so confusing, and it hurt too much to dwell on it.
“How long have you been married?” she asked, trying to keep her mind off her own woes.
“Nigh on twelve years now. We ran away and got married at the height of the summer solstice, and my love was hardly more than a child with dreams in her eyes.” Finnr still wore that dreamy, faraway look.
“We were both young and foolish, but we were determined to get married before her name came up in the yearly selection.”
Ava’s heart panged. She imagined a lot of young people were trying to do that very thing, to avoid the peaceweaver draft. It pained her to think about all the couples cruelly torn apart because of this treaty.
“Good thing we did, too. My sister didn’t have any young lads pursuing her—she was too hard and feisty and scared them all away—and her name came up in the selection about two years ago. She was only fourteen.”
Ava gasped.
“And that’s how you ended up here? You came looking for her?”
Finnr sighed heavily and lowered his gaze from the ceiling to hold her own. “Aye. We came to rescue the fool girl, but turns out she didn’t need rescuing. She freed herself before she even got to the altar and started this merry band of runaways.”
Something clicked in Ava’s brain. “Wait. Brynja is your sister?”
The man grinned and winked. “I know it’s hard to believe that a pleasant fellow such as myself would have a little sister like her.
But our blood runs thick and true. We’re both rebels at heart, I suppose, because even after I knew she was free, I stayed to help her with the girls.
My wife wouldn’t have it any other way. We had escaped, and we wanted to help as many other lassies as we could. ”
“So, Roar… Was he born here in Gelaira?”
“Oh, aye.” Finnr shifted to lean his back against the wall, one ankle hooked over the other. “He’s never known any other life than this one. Probably why he’s such an angel.”
Ava shot him a startled look, only to realize he was grinning at her. “Oh, yes, he’s definitely an angel. But he’s got a bit of the rebel from his father, I suspect.”
Finnr chuckled and nodded. “Oh, aye, he’s got plenty of that. Sometimes I think it’s all he got from me. He’s all rebel, that lad.”
Thunder sounded in the distance, echoing down the stairs and along the corridor. They both frowned and looked toward the entrance. A second peal rolled into the keep. The stones seemed to vibrate beneath her feet.
She pressed a hand to the wall and tried to calm the erratic beating of her heart. “Why do I get the feeling that isn’t thunder?”
Finnr’s posture had lost its laziness. Now he was all hard edges and coiled motion.
“Do you think I should check it out?” he asked without taking his eyes off the distant stairs.
“Whatever you do, don’t open the door,” Ava whispered. “If the shadow is out there looking for us, we don’t want to show him where we are.”
A shriek ricocheted out of the meeting chamber. Ava and Finnr exchanged horrified looks. Something drilled into her head, like a worm eating its way into an apple. Finnr also pressed a hand to his temple, eyes squeezed close as he concentrated.
I know you’re here somewhere, elf, the shadow whispered, laughing as he probed her mind. Why don’t you come out and play?
Ava dug the heels of her palms into her eye sockets and bit back a scream.
How were they going to fight this off for two whole days?