12 Relics
Relics
Vaelira’s boots crunched against a dusting of snow as she walked through the Noble Quarter.
Tiny white flecks drifted lazily through the torch lit streets, the night quiet save for a few shopkeepers closing for the night. Eli walked beside her, and she now understood that it wasn’t the cold that made him pull his hood low over his face.
He had met her at the gate after dinner, as promised. They’d barely exchanged a handful of words before silence fell. It had been awkward at first, taut with a hundred unspoken questions, but now, Vaelira was too absorbed by the city around her to care.
The buildings here felt impossibly old, etched with unnecessary but beautiful details, twisting lines and arcing strokes, like a single light mark of charcoal cut into the stone.
The few people still on the streets wore fine fabrics, adorned with silk, jewels and delicate embroidery.
It reminded Vaelira of the dresses in Jurah’s house in Allen.
It struck her now that the house must have been Eli’s, or at least owned by the Royal family.
She cursed herself for not seeing it sooner.
All the signs had been there. The way Jurah, and even Commander Lysander had deferred to him.
How he’d handed over his purse to the Wasteland raiders like it meant nothing, because to him, it was nothing.
He had known the names of the staff in Allen.
Jurah had even announced the prince’s arrival when they’d reached the town.
She had assumed it was Jurah’s authority that commanded respect, but it had been Eli all along.
They turned down a side street and took a left, the road opening into a residential square. In the centre stood a small, fenced park, and between each streetlight stood fragrant, white-flowered trees, their silver boughs swaying in the chill breeze.
Surrounding it all, houses standing four stories tall lined the opposite side of the road, each framed by matching black iron gates with stone steps leading up to painted doors. They approached one, the smell of woodsmoke drifting on the chill breeze.
Eli lifted the brass knocker, then let it fall, a single, sharp clack reverberating through the night. A muffled sound came from within, then door flew open and a massive black dog leapt at him.
Eli laughed, patting the dog on its shaggy head. “Good boy. Now get down, Orphi.”
A man with silver, shoulder-length hair stood in the doorway. Orphi, dropped down and trotted back inside, his tail wagging eagerly behind him.
“Come in and out of the cold,” the man said, taking their coats and hanging them near the door. He gave them each a quick once over then looked pointedly to Eli.
“This is Axel,” Eli said, turning to her. “He was Lord Commander when I was a boy.” He turned to Axel. “This is Vaelira. She’s a recruit.”
Axel’s brows lifted slightly. “Lovely to meet you, Vaelira. How can I help you both?”
“We need to use the study.”
“Of course. Go on up. I’ll let Willem know we’ve got two more for dessert.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“That would be lovely,” Vaelira said at the same time. Maybe Axel and Willem would give her some answers.
“Very well then.” Axel smiled and turned down the hall, disappearing through a door at the far end of the house.
Eli slipped off his boots and headed up the stairs. Vaelira followed, her fingers trailing along the smooth, black stained balustrade. He led her to a room at the back of the house and unlocked it with a small key. The air inside was musty, thick with disuse.
Eli lit a candle and used it to spark several others in sconces along the wall. Warm light washed over a sparse study; bare shelves, a simple desk and two armchairs in the corner.
He moved towards the desk, paused, then gestured to the armchairs. They sat opposite each other, the silence unsettling.
“This is… cosy,” she offered.
Eli chuckled and leaned back. “It’s the only place I trust not to be overheard.”
“Who would be listening?”
“Too many to name.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “This is the part where you start talking.”
“What would you like to know?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Why did you come to Anhaven? Why does the moonstone react to me? How was Jon possessed? Why did the demon try to kill me?” Her voice caught. “Why me?”
Eli held up a hand. “Slow down.”
“Why should I?” she snapped. “You brought me here promising answers. I’ve been waiting long enough.”
He studied her for a moment. “You’re right.” He exhaled. “I came to Anhaven for two reasons. First, at the request of my mother and father.”
“The King and Queen?”
“Yes. They disapprove of how little time I spend at court. Sending me to Anhaven was a punishment of sorts, while also a way to show the noble houses I was being put to good use.”
“I didn’t know that recruiting for the Royal Guard was a princely duty.”
“And how much do you know of my duties?”
She held his gaze but said nothing.
“That was the first reason.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“The second reason was you.” He leant forwards slightly.
“We didn’t know who we were looking for, but we knew magic was stirring in the south.
There had been no signs in Allen or Meer.
I was starting to lose hope. Then you punched that recruit during your first trial, and the amulet told me I was in the right place. ”
Vaelira frowned. “I already know most of that. You and Jurah were looking for magic. What you haven’t told me is why.”
“Jurah didn’t know. He still doesn’t. He insisted on accompanying me, but I never told him what I was looking for. The Queen wanted to send more guards, but Jurah argued a larger presence would raise suspicion.”
“Why hide your identity at all?”
“Partly for safety. Wasteland raiders would jump at the chance to take me hostage. He wouldn’t like it, but my father would pay whatever they asked to get his only heir back.”
“And the other part?”
He shrugged. “It let me walk around like anyone else, without the pretending that comes with the title.”
Candlelight danced across his face. His eyes met hers, asking for something she wasn’t sure she could give. She thought she could imagine what it felt like, to want a normal life beneath all that grandeur, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand entirely.
“Okay,” she said, keeping her eyes on him. “You said we were looking for magic. Who is we, if not you and Jurah?”
“Someone I’ve worked with for a while. He’s been helping with certain things.
Two trusted guards were going to observe the trials anyway, so when I got my orders, it fell to me.
He gave me the amulet. He said it had sensed a disturbance in the magic, or the magical links… I don’t understand it fully.”
Eli touched his chest over his shirt. Vaelira looked for the silver chain, but it was gone. “You’re not wearing it.”
“It was only ever borrowed.” He paused. “You’re the only one it’s ever responded to. The only one, in all the south.”
Vaelira didn’t bother mentioning that they hadn’t travelled that far south before heading back to the capital.
Her mind raced. As far as anyone knew, magic had died with the mages after the Great Fire. Vaelira remembered the flare of white light. The burn mark on Eli’s chest. Clearly, it wasn’t gone at all.
“I don’t understand,” she said, gnawing her lower lip.
Eli’s eyes dipped to her mouth, his gaze darkening.
Her pulse quickened, but she forced the thought away. Now was not the time. There would never be a time, not anymore. “I thought magic disappeared when the mages sacrificed themselves?”
“I thought the same thing until recently.”
“And the moonstone?”
He reached into his pocket, took her hand, and placed the smooth stone in her palm. He didn’t let her go. Instead, he placed his other hand over hers, warm and steady, as if willing her to take it this time.
A tingling sensation ran along her arm, but the stone didn’t glow.
“Maybe it was luck,” he said. “Maybe fate. But I think you were meant to have this.”
Vaelira raised an eyebrow. “You believe in fate?”
Eli laughed softly. “Gods no.”
She leant back, breaking their connection. “What exactly does it do?”
“I don’t know. It’s been acting strangely since we got here, pulsing now and then. I think it’s reacting to you, but I can’t be sure. I’m not the one with those answers.”
“Who is?”
“His name is Galfri. He’s the Head Librarian.”
“As in, the Royal Library?”
Eli nodded and her heart lifted. She tried to hide her excitement, but a smile crept across her lips. “Why would a librarian know anything about magic?”
“You mean despite the thousands of books at his disposal?”
She threw him a bored look.
He shrugged. “He’s old. He knows many things.”
She exhaled, tamping down the irritation at his nonchalance. “You said that Jon was targeted because the demon was drawn to me.”
Eli shook his head slightly. “I should never have said that. I don’t know enough to be making presumptions.”
Something tight in Vaelira’s chest loosened.
A knock at the door startled her.
Axel stepped in, eyes flicking over the candlelight and the two of them seated knee to knee. “Willem says the dessert will be ruined if it’s not eaten quickly. Are you finished?”
“For now,” Eli said, not taking his eyes from her.
Axel led them into a large kitchen. A boy of around fifteen sat at the dining table in the centre of the room. He wore a grey apron over his simple shirt. He looked up, a broad grin stretching a brutal scar that cut a jagged line from his eyebrow down to his jaw.
The sight of such a horrific injury on someone so young was painful. Vaelira smiled, turning her focus to his eyes.
He took Vaelira’s hand, brushing her fingers with a quick kiss, a mop of straight, black hair falling over his face. He straightened, his smile all teeth. He was the epitome of swaggering youth not yet worn thin by rejection. Not that many girls would reject such a handsome face.
“You must be Vaelira,” he said, looking down at her. “Elijah never brings such beautiful ladies over. A pleasure.”