Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Sunlight burned through Alvara’s eyelids, and she covered them with a drowsy arm.
Sleep had evaded her in the tent she shared with Kat—either because she had already become embarrassingly accustomed to Boden’s presence at night, or because she had been slightly concerned he might murder Pyry in their own tent.
“I’m sorry,” Kat said from beside her, her voice small and crusted with sleep.
They hadn’t breached the topic all night, but it couldn’t be avoided forever. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
“It was unforgivable, what I did. I knew, before even seeing you, that you would want to stay. And I was selfish, so selfish, forcing you to leave because I was scared. I was so scared for you, Alvara.”
“And the sleeping powder?”
“Not my proudest moment.” Kat sat up and pressed her palms into her cheeks.
“But gods, you’re so terrifying in the best way.
I would know, you almost killed me. I didn’t know how you would react when I brought the news that King Ulivar wouldn’t help, let alone what you would do if I tried to get you to leave.
” Her hands dropped to her sides, her shoulders slumping.
“It was easier to not give you a choice. It doesn’t undo anything, and I know that. But I am really sorry.”
Maintaining her soul-withering anger was sapping every last dreg of Alvara’s energy.
It wasn’t accomplishing anything other than making them all miserable, and Kat hadn’t even held a grudge against her for almost taking her life.
Alvara could at least try to understand and start to move on.
“Thank you for the apology. But if you ever drug me again, you’ll find out how terrifying I really can be. ”
Kat laughed, and the sound lightened the load on Alvara’s shoulders. “I know…but it sounds kind of fun.”
Someone grumbled outside the tent. Alvara left, only to find Boden at the center of their camp, his hair disheveled as if he’d been doing his best to rip it out of his head.
Dark bags hung under his eyes, and the corners of his mouth drooped.
“I didn’t kill him, if that’s why you’re giving me that look.
Though I most definitely could have. Did you know he talks in his sleep? ”
Alvara breathed slowly to avoid giggling at his distress. “I know. You get used to it.”
“Right. I suppose you would.”
“Alva?” Pyry’s groggy voice drifted from the tent.
They both looked at each other.
“You saved him. He’s your responsibility.” Alvara crossed her arms.
“He’s your…whatever you are.”
“Eloquent. You owe me.”
Boden pursed his lips. “Why do I have the feeling you’ll always find reasons why I owe you so you’re able to order me around?”
“Please don’t make me go in there.”
“Alva!” Pyry’s voice had grown more frantic.
“Your lover calls.” Boden gestured to the tent.
“Vitharen help me, do not call him my lover. You’ll make me sick.”
He brandished a sheathed dagger and placed it in her hands. “We removed this from him when we…”
“Attacked him? Abducted him?”
“Invited him to join us on our delightful journey. I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether you think he should have it back before or after he loses his mind.”
Alvara gripped the weapon and steeled herself for whatever state Pyry had worked himself into.
To her pleasant surprise, it only took a few rounds of tense conversation to calm him down enough to untie him and bring him into camp to eat. Because apparently Boden had left him tied from head to toe all night.
“You’re helping demi-elves?” He said the word with obvious disdain.
“They deserve as much of a life as anyone else. King Einar has been persecuting them and the humans—”
“Humans? Alva, please.”
Heat crawled up her neck. “Humans are the only godsdamned reason you’re alive, Pyry.” Alvara tossed his dagger at his feet. “Here. I’m sorry for what Kat and Boden did, but keep your ignorant opinions to yourself or we won’t hesitate to dump you in the nearest town.”
He snatched the dagger and tossed it behind him, as if the blade might attack him out of its own free will. A sour feeling twisted Alvara’s stomach.
“Where did you get it?” She already knew the answer, but she wanted to make him say it.
“Alva—”
“Show it to me.”
With a slight shake of his head, he freed the blade, metalwork Alvara would have recognized anywhere.
Because she had helped forge it, only a few months ago.
“It’s not what it looks like.” Pyry reached for her hand, but she yanked it away.
“Really? Because it looks like Jalomir and I had to craft a custom blade for you, days’ worth of work, just to convince you to accompany me to Tasírath.
It’s worth what, at least a hundred coins?
We both know even you wouldn’t spend that much on a weapon.
” She closed her eyes, speaking more to herself than him.
“He had to bribe you to come with me. Unbelievable.”
Pyry didn’t even try to argue or plead his version of events. He didn’t know how to talk his way out of anything. Especially not this.
It shouldn’t have hurt. Gods, why did it hurt?
It had been years since they had even spoken, but some pathetic part of her had believed Pyry traveled with her simply because he cared for her.
It was starting to feel like the horses were the only ones in the godsdamned camp who hadn’t betrayed her in some way.
She needed distance.
Ice and snow crunched under her boots as she marched away from all of them. But on her next step, her foot remained lodged in the ground, where green roots had entwined themselves around her ankles.
Elan elves. Just when she thought this day couldn’t get any worse. King Einar had found them.
“Going somewhere?”
Her hand darted toward her dagger, but spiked vines looped around her arms and wrenched them behind her back.
“What do you want?” she gritted out. If she could distract him, one blow of magic, and he wouldn’t be a bother anymore.
The male cocked his head. “We’re here to kill you and take that pest”—he pointed to Boden, battling another elf—“back to—”
She snapped the leash on her magic and encased him in a block of ice that toppled to the ground with a thud. Not efficient, but it got the job done.
Only a few paces away, a different Elan elf strapped Pyry to a tree trunk with a rope of thorns. A line of crimson dribbled down his neck. Why was he always bleeding in these situations? Pyry was a prick, but she wasn’t going to let him fade, at least not today.
Alvara immersed herself in memories of Eloisa and cast an arrow from her magic.
It lodged in the arm of Pyry’s attacker, who cried out and staggered backward.
With a rough shield in place, she bent down just far enough to clench her teeth around the blade of her dagger, but a wave of heat melted her shield to a puddle.
Her pulse quickened. A Valonian elf. She would never last on her own.
A stream of fire hurtled toward Alvara. She scrambled for her magic, but an earthen barrier erupted in front of her, absorbing the blow meant for her. Kat slid to the ground at her feet and made quick work of Alvara’s binds.
“Apology accepted,” Alvara said, and Kat flashed her teeth as she skirted around Alvara and sawed the vines around her hands.
A thunderous roar echoed through the camp, and Alvara choked on her next breath.
If one of their attackers was a shifter, they were all doomed.
The huge beast flicked its amber eyes to her before it barreled through the Valonian elf in a bloody tangle of limbs. Oh gods, a bear? And the scars on its back…
It wasn’t a bear. It was the bear she had seen in the Grove of Souls. Boden. Son of a—
“Alva!”
The remaining Elan elf, blood pouring from his injured arm, now held a struggling Pyry as a desperate shield against Boden. If Pyry had actually ever agreed to try sparring with her, he would know how to wield that damn dagger or any of the weapons he obsessively collected.
She sprinted toward them just as a tumble of earth shifted Pyry’s captor off balance. Kat tossed Alvara her spear from gods knew where they had been hiding it, and Alvara blinded the Elan elf with a shower of snow.
“Get down now!” Alvara yelled, and Pyry obeyed, dropping to his knees. She whipped the shaft of her spear and bashed the Elan elf in the head, and he collapsed to the ground.
Howls of agony and what sounded eerily like the ripping of flesh erupted behind her. She did her best to block it out as she helped Pyry to his feet, who blinked rapidly, swaying as if he might faint. The punctures in his neck appeared to be his only injury other than his pride.
An unsettling quiet fell over the camp. Four bodies sprawled around them, two mangled beyond recognition. Boden, now back in his elf form, stood over one of them and panted, blood dripping from more parts of him than Alvara cared to contemplate. She was fairly confident most of it wasn’t his.
“Is everyone all right?” Kat asked, her forehead crinkled. Her light brown skin and lavender tunic were somehow spotless despite the carnage.
Alvara looked to Pyry, who nodded with wide eyes. “We’re fine.”
“We need to move.” Boden jogged toward their horses, which had escaped unscathed. “Someone must have alerted them that we were in the city.”
Logically, that should have been Alvara’s first concern, but all she could say was, “You can shift?”
He looked at her as if she had hit her head too hard in the scuffle. Gods, with the gore splattered on his face and the lethal way he moved, he might as well have been fading incarnate. “Yes?”
“You were at the Grove of Souls that day, the anniversary of Eloisa’s fading. I saw you.”
Boden winced as he untied his horse. “We’ll talk on the way, but we really need to go.”
“Here.” Alvara removed her coat, tore one of her gray sleeves off using her dagger, and wrapped the piece of cloth around a gash in his arm.
His eyes stilled on where her hands touched him. “Thank you.”