Chapter 13
MALAKAI
She isn't looking at me like she did last night. There's something different in her eyes when she meets mine, which still isn't as often as I would like it to be.
I tilt my chin up, closing my eyes briefly, enjoying the feel of the sun's rays on my skin. Such a mortal thing to do, to appreciate the warmth of the sun, and it makes me wonder how long exactly it is I have been gone from this world.
When I glance sidelong back at Aveline, resplendent in a rough-spun linen dress—corset highlighting the curve of her waist, the ample softness of her breasts.
But even better than that, even better than the undeniable beauty and the symmetry of her face, is the way I catch the corners of her mouth lifting occasionally as she spots something new or wondrous in the town of Wild Oak Woods.
I don't remember much about this place; most of my memories seem to be around my brothers and of feelings I had for Aveline—her soul in the past. But I can look through the town and see it through her eyes, the wonder there, and it's almost as if I'm seeing it for the very first time myself.
The folk here are pleasant enough—a variety of creatures that all seem to be happy enough and at ease enough to take time to stop and greet each other on their way through town.
The town itself is quite well maintained, a variety of shops and houses that work together in a sort of pleasing amalgamation of styles and architecture that never once seems jarring.
All sorts of strange items are for sale inside and outside each shop.
We pass by one such shop that has a lavender and yellow striped awning, which shouldn't be pleasing to the eye and yet somehow manages to be.
Out front are all sorts of cuckoo clocks ranging in variety from one that has the expected cuckoo to some that ring with minotaurs and centaurs and mermaids and all sorts of clever creatures.
Aveline studies each one with delight on her expression, and I must even admit that they are enchanting.
Another store we pass by has gleaming glass windows, and on display are every sort of pastry one could possibly imagine.
A huge minotaur with shaggy brown and taupe fur, horns curling from his head, shambles around a corner, and Aveline forgets herself completely, grabbing for my hand in shock at the sight.
"I take it you do not have minotaurs in Stormspire, then?" I ask her, amused.
Her jaw has dropped, and still she smiles through it all, delighted by every new creature that makes an appearance on the cobbled stones in the Wild Oak Woods.
"Can we shop?" she asks as we walk past a rack full of cloth bolts in a thousand different shades.
"Of course we can shop, if that is what you would like to do. I am all too happy to accompany you."
"I don't have any money," she says, a frown briefly tarnishing her smile as she fingers a soft, expertly woven swathe of light blue wool.
"Do you like that color?" I ask her.
"Yes, but I don't have any money with which to buy it."
The shopkeeper wanders over. A small elf, from the looks of it—slightly pointed ears, silvery hair that spills over her shoulders, and the fine features and high cheekbones associated with their kin.
"Do you see something you like?" the elf asks Aveline cheerfully. "That color would look stunning on you, don't you think?" she tells me.
"I think she needs a cloak out of it," I tell the shopkeeper.
"I have no way to pay," Aveline tells me, her cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment.
"Then it's a good thing that I have plenty of gold," I tell her.
"Oh, you—I couldn't possibly ask you to—"
"Then I suppose it's a good thing you didn't ask me." I can't help but smile at the sunshine-ishness that's overcome Aveline at the barest suggestion that I do something kind for her.
As if I care a thing for gold.
I hand over several pieces of coin to the shopkeeper, whose eyes widen. "This is much more than a cloak would cost."
"Then I suppose you'll have to make whatever else she wants."
"Malakai!" Aveline says, clearly flustered.
The shopkeeper, however, winks at me and tugs Aveline closer by her elbow, pulling out bolts of blue fabric.
I pick up a teal color, one I know she fancied before. "A dress out of this, I think."
"Please, practical clothes," Aveline tells me and the shopkeeper. "Something I can walk in easily. Something for the winter. I don't know what happened to all of my luggage," she says slowly, horror dawning on her face.
"You don't need luggage," I remind her. “Buy whatever you fancy. A new start.”
I feel foolish the moment the words leave my mouth… but I also like the sound of them. A new start for us both.
"How are we going to get it all back to Shadow Keep?" Aveline mutters, almost to herself, losing herself in the bolts of fabric again.
"We can have it delivered to wherever you live," the shopkeeper assures her, plainly set on getting her money's worth and time's worth out of us. I don't care. The look of joy and delight on Aveline's face as she picks out fabric after fabric is worth every gold I own.
"Even Shadow Keep?" I doubt she can get out there.
She blanches, apparently having missed when Aveline said it.
“The ruin in the Elder Forest?" She looks from Aveline to me as understanding dawns on her face. Her slim fingers clutch at her throat, and Aveline's expression darkens in what looks to be embarrassment. "I didn't know anyone lived there.”
“I've just moved in." Aveline’s cheeks are bright pink again, her eyes nearly glossy.
If she cries again, I don’t think I could bear it.
“And I’m glad to have her,” I say fiercely, and Aveline blinks twice, then stares up at me in something like gratitude.
"Of course you are, dear," the elf responds, staring at me in a new way—not fear, exactly, but recognition. "My people have stories about you."
"Oh?" I ask.
"Yes." She drops into a deep curtsy, and I feel shadows slithering down my back as embarrassment curls through me, unexpected.
"You'll protect us from what's coming, won't you?"
"He will," Aveline says hurriedly, clearly dismayed by this encounter—which is, of course, adorable.
"And you will too, won't you?" she asks Aveline. The elf presses my gold pieces back into my hand. "I cannot take your money for this.”
"My bride would like new clothing," I tell her, confused. "We are happy to pay."
"Your money is no good here.” The elf starts to curtsy again, and I make a strangled sound. "I will make her what she wants, and that is the least I can do for what I know you will be providing to me and to the Wild Oak Woods."
"Please take the money," Aveline says, looking discomfited by the idea of having this woman work for free.
"I cannot," the elf insists, smiling at Aveline.
"All right, well, how about this?" Aveline says, clearly still uncomfortable, but her eyes set in an expression that I've grown to know all too well—one that says she is not about to back down. "Take the gold and give me more than you normally would. Can we at least agree upon that?"
The shopkeeper gives her a long look, then breaks into a smile. Pocketing the gold pieces she tried so hard to drop back into my hands, the elf says, "That we can do."
I follow behind the elf and Aveline as they discuss fabrics and weaves and colors, and Aveline is happier than I've seen her.
"Do you make boots?" I interrupt, thinking back to how injured her feet were last night.
"I don't make shoes, sir," the elf says, shaking her head.
"Please," I ask, "call me Malakai."
The elf looks positively scandalized when I tell her to use my name and her expression has me almost smiling. When I catch Aveline's eye, she too looks as though she's about to burst into laughter.
It does something, unlocks something deep inside me, to know were both thinking along similar lines—that this elf’s behavior is deeply absurd to us both.
For once, for the first time of many, I hope, we’re united.
"We’ll make sure that she has some footwear to match.
For boots, I can recommend Todrick down the way," she says, jerking her chin.
"You see the round stucco shop down the way with a thatched roof and the wooden beams?
His shoes are some of the best in these parts.
He's an excellent cobbler, but be careful what you say to him," she tells Aveline seriously. “He is a sensitive sort, Todrick is.”
I can tell Aveline wants to ask more questions, but the elf simply grins at her and motions her to leave the minute her stomach begin to growl again.
"Off with you two. Your garments should be ready by the end of day."
"The end of day?" Aveline says, staring at her in consternation. "How in the world will you be able to finish all of that by the end of day?"
The elf swirls her hand, and I catch the faint hint of burnt cinnamon on the air, the telltale smell of an elf's magic.
"I have my ways, my dear," the elf says, patting her on the shoulder.
Aveline just stares in wonderment.
Strange, I forget how little she knows of the magic all around, even the small magics most other species wield without thinking. What a travesty to have been raised only around others of her kind. One of many failures of her parents.
The elf notices me staring at Aveline, and when I catch her eye, she gives me a knowing nod and surprises me by wrapping her long, slender fingers around my wrist.
"You must take care of her, my Lord," the elf says in a low voice, that smell of burnt cinnamon filling the air again. Dust motes sparkle around us in the sunlight, and I hear her voice again in my head. “You must take care of the light bringer,” the elf says again, her voice echoing in my mind.
Finally, she lets go, and time snaps back to normal, the sparkle of the dust in the air vanishing as her elf-magic unwinds its grip from us.
"I will," I tell her out loud.
"Thank you," Aveline grins, delighted. She steps slightly back onto the cobblestone street, a beautiful smile on her face. "I won't forget your kindness," Aveline tells her, then reaches for me.
I tuck her hand inside my elbow and marvel at the warmth of it, and what's more, at the way that she reached for me. The way she wanted me to hold on to.
“Protect her,” the elf's voice says.
And when I look back, the little elf has gone back inside the store, and all I can think is that I would have to be an utter idiot to let any harm come to my Aveline.