12 Relics #2
Vaelira withdrew her hand, laughing softly. “You must be Willem.”
Willem gave a low, theatrical bow. “At your service.”
“I didn’t know Eli kept such charming company.”
Axel laughed, but Eli stiffened beside her. “Call me Elijah.”
She paused then nodded. “Sure.”
Axel and Willem exchanged a glance. Axel cleared his throat and gestured to the table. “Let’s sit. You’re lucky Willem made extra. We weren’t expecting company.”
“I’m always expecting company,” Willem said, moving to the counter. “You never know when royalty might drop in.”
Elijah let out an exasperated breath and took the seat beside her. Willem returned with a tray and set it down. Four bowls sat atop it, each filled with small, perfect scoops of iced cream. A small jug of glossy amber syrup was on the side.
“Honey-vanilla with roasted almonds,” Willem announced. “Axel tried to make the syrup, but—”
“I burnt the first batch,” Axel muttered.
Vaelira smiled as she accepted a bowl. “You two live like kings.”
“Please,” Willem said, sliding into a chair across from her. “We’re just humble servants of the realm.”
“Very well-fed ones,” Elijah muttered.
Axel nodded his agreement, his mouth already full.
Vaelira dipped her spoon into the bowl and gestured between the two of them. “What’s the story here?”
Axel set his spoon down. “I suppose you could say we’re like father and son.”
Willem snorted. “Whatever you say, old man.”
She waited, but no one offered an explanation. She nodded slowly, not wanting to push the subject, and returned to her bowl. The iced cream was thick and smooth, the syrup warm and sharp on her tongue, trickling heat down her throat.
“What is that?” she asked, gesturing towards the jug. “Other than the honey and vanilla?”
“Whiskey,” Axel said. “Don’t they use it in Anhaven?”
“Not in food.” She glanced at Willem, who was watching her with interest. “It’s good though. Really good.”
A satisfied smile crept across his face. “I know.” He jumped up and began clearing the bowls.
“Do you miss your hometown?” Axel asked.
Elijah shifted beside her, but Vaelira kept her gaze on the table.
“I do,” she said. “But I haven’t had much time since training started. I think I missed it more on the road, when there was nothing to do but think.”
Axel nodded. “How was the journey? Any trouble?”
Elijah let out a low laugh, his hand settling near hers on the table. “You could say that.”
Axel raised a brow.
“Two raiders jumped us on the road to Allen and then a minor demon showed up.”
Axel blinked. “How did two raiders get the jump on you and Jurah?”
Vaelira’s cheeks warmed. “It was my fault.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” Elijah’s hand brushed hers, then as if realising what he had done, he withdrew it to his lap.
“I’m not as well informed as I once was,” Axel said, voice more serious now. “But I’ve heard the Wastelanders have been active again.”
Elijah nodded. “There have been reports. Small villages mostly.”
“They haven’t hit villages since before my time on the guard,” Axel said. “I wonder what’s making them so bold.”
“Could be desperation,” Elijah said. “Demon attacks are up. Maybe they’re struggling on the other side of the mountains too.”
Vaelira said nothing, but the news settled uncomfortably. She hadn’t heard any of this. Lysander must have known, yet he hadn’t trusted her with it.
“Or,” Axel said, “they’re taking advantage. If we’re busy fighting demons, they’ve got more room to move.”
“Exactly,” Elijah said, scraping the last of his bowl and licking the spoon.
Willem dropped back into his seat with a loud sigh. “As thrilling as all this is, I think it’s time.”
“Time for what?” Vaelira asked.
He held up a finger. “Hold that thought.” He stood, walking to a cabinet at the back of the kitchen and returning with four small glasses and a half full bottle of amber liquor. He poured himself a generous measure and knocked it back in one gulp.
“You’re hardly old enough for that,” Axel grumbled.
“Whatever,” Willem said, already refilling his glass. He filled the other three, pushing one towards Vaelira. “Our Royal Highness here seems to trust you, so I’ll answer your question from earlier.”
“I told you not to call me that,” Elijah grumbled.
Axel sighed, knocking back his drink. “Give me another. I’m going to need it.”
Willem obliged, then kept going. “Axel found me when I was about six or seven. I was working for a gang in New Town. Called themselves the Bruisers. Not exactly a creative bunch. They mostly beat people up. I was out on a job for them. Nasty business. We think they were trying to numb me to it. Train me to stop feeling things. I don’t remember much. ”
He kept his tone light, but his hands shook as he poured himself another measure. Axel noticed.
“Got every last one of those bastards,” Axel said, his voice harder now.
Willem gave him a grateful look and reached over to pat his arm. “That you did. Saved my life.” He turned to Vaelira. “We gave up looking for my parents a few years back, and here we are.”
Vaelira sensed there was more to the story, but she didn’t press. She wanted to say something, but saying she was sorry felt hollow. So instead, she offered, “And now you make the best iced cream in Eastvale. That’s pretty impressive.”
Willem’s laugh was full of warmth. “Axel says I’m blessed by Imae.”
Elijah hummed. “The God of Feasts has nothing to do with it. You’ve got the skill.”
Willem tilted his head. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Willem had tried to convince them to open another bottle, but Elijah insisted on escorting Vaelira back to the barracks before the Lord Commander noticed she was breaking curfew.
On the streets, shoppers had been replaced by people swaying arm in arm, some only seeming to stay upright with their friend’s support. Snow still fell, but the drinks had warmed Vaelira’s chest, her face so hot she tugged her hood down to let the frosty night air touch her skin.
Elijah offered his arm and she hesitated.
“I can walk by myself just fine,” she said, trying to shrug him off.
“There’s more people out than usual tonight and we’ll blend in better if people think we’re together,” he said, pulling her to him. “Jurah will have my hide if he finds out I let you wander around after dark.”
She frowned at the implication, like she was some helpless child, but he had a point.
His arm was all hard muscle beneath her hand, and after a moment, she let herself lean into it. His warmth was disarming, yet she found it steadying her. If she were being honest, she might have even liked it.
“What’s with the curfew anyway?” she asked, watching a couple trip on nothing and burst out laughing. “Doesn’t look like anyone else is sticking to it.”
The swaying steps of the couple snagged her memory. A figure staggering into a cottage, skin grey and covered in dark veins. The unnatural movements of his body, the ragged breathing. She stiffened.
Elijah drew her closer, and she felt her pulse slow. “It’s not for them,” Elijah said. “Recruits aren’t allowed in the Noble Quarter. If you’re out after dark, you’re headed to New Town or Old Town. There’s been trouble down there lately.”
His tone had hardened. “We need to build our numbers,” he said, as if to himself.
Vaelira looked up at him, a frown tugging at her brow. His sharp features were shadowed, but serious. “There’s been summonings,” he said.
“Demons?” She almost didn’t believe it. Their demon lore professor had made summonings sound like a thing of the past, before the Great Fires.
Elijah nodded. “It started several months ago. We lost some recruits on patrol. Others were simply in the wrong place.” He scanned the street ahead, then slowed, voice dropping.
“It started as small, isolated incidents, but it’s been escalating.
We’re trying to contain it. To keep it quiet before panic spreads. ”
Vaelira opened her mouth to ask more, but Elijah moved in front of her, bringing her to a halt.
He steered her sharply down a side street and ducked into a narrow alley between shuttered buildings.
The change of direction made her stumble, and she landed against him hard. His arms caught her around the waist.
“Maybe I had one drink too many,” she muttered, grateful for the shadows that hid her blush.
“Willem is persuasive,” he said, his voice rough.
He didn’t mention the fact that he’d drunk far more than her and still seemed entirely unaffected. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but Willem and Axel’s stash had been better than anything served at Polk’s Tavern. Her chest twisted as she remembered Jon asking her to join him that night.
“Hey.” Elijah’s voice pulled her back. “Where’d you go?”
He was still holding her. She looked up at him, the scent of pine and leather, and something sweet, wrapping around her like a net. The urge to rest her forehead against his chest nearly overcame her, but then she remembered who he was.
She straightened, stepping back. “The relics. I thought they were destroyed.”
She had learned about relics in her Demon Lore lecture that week. Relics were items imbued with dark magic that could be used by anyone to summon demons. It didn’t matter if the summoner had their own power or not.
Elijah’s eyes flicked down the alley. He lifted a finger to his lips. “They weren’t,” he said, voice low. “Most of them were locked away. Someone broke in.”
He moved closer. She backed up instinctively, her back hitting the stone wall. He bent down, his lips brushing gently against the curve of her ear.
“You’re going to help me find them.”