Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Two days passed with no mention of the seeds from Lilja, leaving Alvara confident she had escaped recognition for her gesture. On the third morning, she arrived in the training clearing, where at least twenty elves gathered and milled about, including Pyry.
She only needed one guess as to who was responsible.
“I found more people interested in learning! Isn’t it wonderful?” Lilja practically oozed enthusiasm.
Of course. Alvara loved nothing more than speaking to large groups of people, especially ones made up of mostly strangers.
Either Lilja had charmed the newcomers into joining, or the fear of the approaching danger had made them desperate enough to learn any method of defense possible, even if it meant learning to wield weapons. Not that Alvara could blame them.
“Mhmm.” She placed the two wooden staffs she held on the ground.
It had been almost a week of teaching Kat and Lilja the basics of the correct footwork and postures for fighting, and she had intended to start today’s training demonstrating how to grip a weapon.
Much faster than any beginner should learn, but for all they knew, King Einar could attack tomorrow.
But now, Alvara had to balance elves all coming in with varying levels of knowledge, as well as learning at widely different paces. She should have scrounged up a pathetic excuse for a pastry from the food hall.
“After what you did for me,” Lilja said, “I didn’t know how to thank you. It meant so much, and I thought what better way to show my gratitude than to help you share what you love!” At least Alvara’s actions had reinvigorated Lilja’s passion for…well, just about everything.
“I can tell Alvara is thrilled,” Aurilena said, her face schooled into mock seriousness.
Maybe her presence meant she had received word from the Eskenti’s settlement, hopefully arranging for safe passage for Ilmanir’s people.
The question must have been evident in Alvara’s face.
“They said yes. I made them.” Aurilena’s gaze swept over the training grounds. “You’ve made surprising progress.”
Was that a hint of approval? Alvara couldn’t help herself. “That must have been painful for you to say.”
Aurilena’s lips turned up ever so slightly at the corners. “It only took about a decade off my life.”
“I don’t doubt it. I’m just impressed Lilja was able to convince you to even come to this.”
“I tried to stop her, I really did,” Kat said. She wagged her finger between Aurilena and Alvara. “Wait, are you two friends now?”
“No,” they said in unison.
Kat grinned. “Right. Anyway, I tried to stop Lilja from inviting everyone, but once she sets her mind to something, it’s pretty much impossible to convince her of anything else.”
“She gets that from her father,” Sylvi, Boden’s mother, said from a few paces away. Gods, who hadn’t been invited?
“I can think of someone else who inherited that trait.” Alvara squinted up at the sun that had decided to make its first appearance in days. Maybe if she stared long enough, she would go blind and could excuse herself.
“And who might that be?”
Oh, for Vitharen’s sake, Boden was here too? “We don’t train for another hour,” Alvara said as spots danced across her vision, though his presence instilled her with an unexpected dose of confidence.
“I’m well aware. I was quite interested to see what your training involved, though I didn’t expect such a crowd. And…” He jutted his chin in Pyry’s direction.
Alvara sighed. “I didn’t expect him either.”
She made the mistake of looking at Pyry, who caught her eye and proceeded to squeeze past elves to approach. Boden gave them both a quick glance and stepped back to join his mother.
“Lilja invited me,” Pyry said as he watched Boden from the corner of his eye.
“You’ve never once agreed to spar with me, and yet you came to this?”
“You saved my life in Tasírath, spared me from Vorianta’s fate.” He swallowed and tugged on the collar of his tunic. “And these trainings mean something to you.”
“Is that your way of saying thank you?”
Pyry bowed his head. “Thank you.”
He was trying, she had to admit. “Learn how to use that dagger of yours. And start paying attention in these trainings so I won’t have to keep saving your ass. Go join the others.”
She watched with an oddly light feeling in her stomach as the back of his wheat-blond head retreated into the bodies awaiting her instruction.
Maybe this would all do her some good. Magic might be the expertise of many of the elves here, but weapons were hers.
This was her opportunity to help provide them with more tools to survive the coming storm.
Boden followed her line of sight to Pyry. “Are you all right?”
“I am. More than all right.” And she meant it. “Thank you, Lilja,” she called over the hum of voices. “I think gathering as many elves as we can to train is the perfect idea.”
Lilja squealed and hopped up and down. “I knew it! I only invited a few today, but I have so many more people I can bring tomorrow!”
Perhaps Alvara had spoken too soon.
The group of elves multiplied at each morning’s training, and Alvara had even begun to lengthen it to two hours to accommodate the growing needs of each individual, including Pyry, who had made more progress than she had expected and dutifully attended each day.
She could see it in the haunted looks that receded with each step and swing the elves practiced—the power, the physical nature of wielding weapons—it harnessed their worry and panic, transforming it all into a quiet confidence. That they could survive the battle to come.
Red blisters covered Alvara’s hands, her muscles throbbing from her early mornings teaching and late nights forging weapons, but it still didn’t feel like enough. They had one chance to stop King Einar in his path to victory, and Alvara wasn’t going to waste it.
She had little else to offer other than a lifetime of stories passed down by her father, but he had always believed that the right knowledge could affect the greatest changes.
The only obstacle was the willingness to put aside your pride and accept that you still had and always would have much left to learn.
But the problem was, she didn’t know what knowledge they needed.
Wielders throughout Ilmanir had spent countless hours digging trenches surrounding the inner and outer parts of the wall.
The hope was it might slow down King Einar’s forces long enough to release a volley of magic and arrows from atop the wall, weakening the enemy’s numbers.
But with a secured Nyrian alliance, his elves would fill the trenches and even obliterate the wall that had secured the city for centuries.
Unless…
“Runes!” Alvara yelled as Boden sauntered into the clearing later that morning. He had done his best to attend her weapons trainings when he could, but he was constantly pulled in a thousand different directions with battle preparations.
He cringed and pressed his fingers to his ears. “Good morning to you too. Why are you shouting so early in the morning? I need at least three more cups of tea to handle whatever this is.”
She pressed her hand to his neck, shooting a stream of ice down his back, and Boden yelped. “Wake up. You can have as much tea as you want later. I have an idea.”
“I think I preferred you when you were depressed,” he grumbled as he rubbed the collar of his tunic up and down his neck.
“And you’re probably not the only one. But Boden—we can cover the inner side of the wall with runes that block out magic.
It won’t protect the city itself, but it can at least make the wall impervious to attacks from Nyrian wielders.
And they won’t know at first glance. It’s not much, but it may buy us some time. ”
“Runes?” Boden chewed on the word, his lip curled. He was clearly as fond of the remnants of the gods’ language as every elf she had ever met, except her father.
“Yes, runes. My father studied and used them all the time. They might be useful.” Though her preferred method for using them had always been heating up a bath each night, until Eloisa had passed.
“I understand the sentiment, but the sheer amount of time it would take to inscribe each stone in the wall is daunting to say the least. And we would have to recharge them with magic every few days. It would be a misuse of our wielders.”
“Not if we use elves who are already planning on staying but not fighting.” Like Lilja. But Alvara wanted to keep her head intact, so she kept that part to herself.
He scratched his short beard. “It could work, though we’ll need to confirm the correct runes and pass around drawings to those willing to inscribe them.
Are you interested in a trip to the library?
Ilmanir’s is quite small compared to Tasírath’s, but I suppose that’s true for the capital of every kingdom besides Ela. ”
The library. To be surrounded by books, the feel of the soft leather, the endless reminders of her father… “I would go, but Sithuren needs help at the forge.”
Boden studied her for a few heartbeats. “I’ll find you when I’m done.”
Gods, she was such a coward. But the very thought of stepping foot in that place was enough to send her running in the other direction.
Alvara fiddled with one of her mother’s earrings.
If he was already going, it couldn’t hurt to ask.
“While you’re there, can you try to look for anything about King Einar’s dagger?
It’s been in every nightmare since I left his dungeons.
Something about it is off. I don’t know why, but I think it could be important. ”
His brows knitted. “Are you still having nightmares?”
“Are you?”
Boden tilted his head and loosed a long, exasperated breath.
“They’re…better. Happy?”
A faint grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’ll head to the library. You’ll be all right?”
“I won’t impale anyone with icicles if that’s what you mean.”
The ground rippled beneath her feet in response.