Episode 141 Breathless
Breathless
“We’re not alone,” Nestraya hisses without warning, and a perfect shield falls around their little party before she finishes speaking.
Viala gazes at it in wonder. Lorial makes it look so easy.
“Are these our warriors?” Lorial asks. “We’re only an hour from Darlei.”
“I sense five elves. A tracker. One plant wielder.” Nestraya looks up. “The plant wielder has faint wisps of destruction magic.”
“Derazyn. These must be our warriors.”
Tharios mumbles something as he leans weakly against Viala’s back. He’s been spouting nonsense for hours, and keeping him upright is becoming increasingly difficult. She needs to get him to their bed so she can lie beside him again with nothing between them.
“I’m sure they’ve sensed us,” Nestraya says. “They’ve probably been riding toward your air magic for the past thirty minutes. Mera must have made it home and filled Corivos in.”
“Is he among their number?”
Nestraya frowns. “I don’t sense him, but your magic is so—”
“Loud. I’ve been informed. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. Is it odd to you that he only sent five warriors?”
“Perhaps they’re sweeping the woods for Fenoral.”
“Perhaps.”
The small band approaches, and Lorial drops his shield.
“Rafelis,” Lorial says to the leader of the band. “I admit I’m glad to see you. How fares your elfling?”
A faint smile ghosts Rafelis’s face. “Well. As is my binding partner. We...we named her Nestial. After two of the best elves I know.”
“You named your elfling after us?” Lorial says. He sounds genuinely touched, and Viala smiles.
“We did. Her future is brighter because of you, and I never wish for her to forget that we are all stronger together. But this conversation is best saved for another time.”
“Indeed. Did my mother catch you up on current happenings?”
“She did, but I fear further events have taken place since you last encountered her. Forgive me for being the bearer of bad tidings, but Cerian and Princess Arisanna are missing.”
Viala’s stomach drops as her hand tightens on the reins. Tharios sways at her back, and it’s all she can do to stay in the saddle.
Neither Lorial nor Nestraya speaks.
“We’re sweeping the woods now,” Rafelis continues. “But all we know is they left Feressa this morning on Nebula, and Nebula arrived in Darlei alone this evening.”
Lorial finally finds his tongue. “Cerian is missing?”
“Indeed. I wish I had better news.”
To Viala’s shock, Nestraya starts breathing heavily. “Cerian. But why—”
“According to Elowyn, she sent him to relay news of high-born rebels to Corivos.”
“She did what?” Lorial asks, but Rafelis just lets that sink in.
“This is my fault,” Nestraya says. “If I had talked to him instead of making him feel as though he had something to prove—”
“We can sort out the why later,” Lorial says. “Right now, we need to find them.”
Nestraya breathes out slowly and nods.
“We could use your air magic, Lorial,” Rafelis says. “You can cover terrain more quickly than any of us trackers can.”
“I won’t know if it’s them. I’ll only be able to sense the presence of people.”
“It’s a start. We’re running blind here. They could be anywhere between Feressa and Darlei.”
Lorial climbs off his horse and loosens his limbs. Then he holds his hands out to the sides, palms down.
“Become the wind, my love,” Nestraya says. “Find them.”
The wind picks up in swirls of leaves and twigs. It whips Viala’s hair and toys with the hem of her gown. Lorial closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they glow silver like the moonlight. Air bursts forth in every direction, and Stardust prances to the side as the horses whinny.
“I should...help...” Tharios mumbles, and Viala rolls her eyes.
“Not now, elf prince.”
“Cerian—”
“Leave the hero work for someone else tonight, my love. You can save everyone again in a few days.”
“Mocking...me...”
“Very much so. Now be still before we both tumble to the forest floor.”
Lorial lifts off the ground as his air currents hold him aloft. A low growl fills his chest, and when he blinks, his eyes are pure white.
“I feel warrior bands. Forest creatures. I don’t—wait. A unicorn?”
“A wild one?” Nestraya asks.
“I can’t tell. But it waits outside one of the Outerlander shelters.”
“Who’s inside?”
“Two...no, three. One may be injured. Two male. One female. Rounded ears. The female has rounded ears.” Lorial’s magic dies away as quickly as it started, and he stumbles to the ground. When he blinks again, his eyes appear normal once more.
Nestraya leaps from his horse and runs toward him.
“I’m fine,” he says. “Just a little breathless.”
“The injured elf—”
Lorial shakes his head. “I don’t know. But whoever he is, he lives. I felt his breath myself.” Lorial stiffens. “I heard Cerian’s voice.”
“What did he say?”
“‘Father.’ Nothing more. But he’s in the first waypoint northeast of Darlei.”
“Rafelis, get Tharios home,” Nestraya says. “Tell anyone whose path you cross to converge on the waypoint. We’re going after him.”
“Understood. Is this Werithen’s body?” Rafelis gestures to the wrapped form on Nestraya’s horse.
“Yes,” Lorial says. “Relinquish him to the Healer’s Circle to prepare for burial and a return to his family.”
“I’ll see to it myself.”
Nestraya mounts Lorial’s horse, and Lorial takes a few deep breaths before climbing up behind her.
“Be strong, my youngling,” he says softly to Viala. “Remember your safe place.”
Emotion rises in Viala, and she nods.
“We’ll return with Cerian and Arisanna as soon as we’re able.” Nestraya takes the reins and nudges the horse into a trot, and soon they disappear into the shadows.
“Let’s get Tharios home before he tumbles off that unicorn,” Rafelis says with the hint of a smile, and Viala nods gratefully as she nudges Stardust forward into the night.
“If you wanted your apple roasted, I could have done it for you,” Cerian says with a teasing smile as Arisanna holds her apple over the fire with a stick.
“I may have forgotten.” She glances up at him where he leans against the stone wall watching her with so much warmth that heat floods her cheeks. “Something warm sounded lovely.”
“Something warm. I could take care of that, too.”
“Cerian,” she hisses as she glances at his uncle across the hearth. He fell asleep while they were outside.
“Am I scandalizing you?” Cerian grins, and Arisanna barely holds back a smile.
He’s in a good mood. This is probably his idea of the perfect night, aside from his uncle’s injured presence.
Alone with her in a shelter in the woods as firelight flickers on the walls around them? In different circumstances, it might approach romantic.
Cerian saunters toward her, his emerald eyes glimmering in the light. “This is taking far too long.”
“Is it?”
“It is.” He reaches for the stick and hovers his hand over the apple. “I need to get you to bed. My human princess needs sleep.”
“Does she?” Arisanna breathes.
“She does.” He holds the apple toward her. “It should be just about perfect now.”
When she nibbles at it, a soft warmth hits her tongue. It is perfect. Not too hot. Just right.
“Thank you.”
When he leans down to whisper in her ear, she tilts her head toward him.
But he says nothing, instead grazing her earlobe with his teeth, and she almost drops the apple.
“Forgive me,” he whispers. “The firelight does something to your hair that awakens my longing for you. I’ll let you be.”
Stars above. The heat in his eyes makes her heart race.
“The...the heartlanding,” she whispers as her own longing takes root.
“Perhaps.”
Perhaps? What sort of answer was that?
Unless...
“You’re not planning to sleep, are you?” she asks.
“I need to keep you safe.”
Before Arisanna can respond, a strong wind blows through the doorway, nearly extinguishing the fire. It whips at her hair and skirt, swirling around her as if looking for something. When it slides along her ears, she gasps.
“Father,” Cerian breathes.
Then as quickly as it came, it’s gone.
“That was Father’s air magic,” Cerian says. “I think he found us.”
“That was unsettling.”
“He used to wrap us in his magic when we were elflings. Make us fly. I’d almost forgotten what it feels like.”
“He seemed particularly interested in my ears.” She rubs at them, relieving some of the lingering tickle.
“He was trying to ascertain if it was you.”
“Because of my human ears? I suppose we terrified them by disappearing.”
“If Father is sweeping the woods like that, I’d say so. He only does it when he has no other option.” Cerian wanders to the door and gazes into the darkness. “I’ll have to face whatever is coming when they find us. I doubt it will be pretty.”
Her heart goes out to him, and she takes one last bite of her apple before setting the core aside. “Stronger together?” she whispers as she slides her hand into his.
“Always.” He turns toward her, and she pushes aside the thoughts in her head as she pulls him down to kiss her.
He doesn’t resist. It’s a slow, lingering kiss, full of smoke as he slides his hands around her and pulls her against him.
This is fine. Uncle Quilian is still asleep.
Perhaps if she thinks it enough, she’ll believe it.
Eventually, Cerian pulls away. “Sleep, Sanna. It’s a long ride back to Darlei in the morning. I’m sure Father and Mother are still hours away.”
Breathing out slowly, she nods and eyes the narrow bed again. Time to be a Westaria.
He leads her to the soft moss, which looks freshly grown. Did he do that for her?
After helping her sit, he kneels down and gently removes one of her shoes and then the other. The moss he packed around her heel earlier helped.
“Go ahead and lie down,” he says softly as he takes off his own boots before crawling onto the bed beside her. There’s no way for them both to fit without snuggling close, and her cheeks heat when he wraps his arm around her. “Just be mine,” he whispers. “Nothing else matters.”
And as much as she tries to fight it, the soft warmth he pillows the air with lulls her right to sleep.