Chapter 20
T heir path to town was made in silence. Nothing of importance happened along the way. Just more purple crystals and bioluminescent mushroom trees and the tomb-like darkness that enveloped them. This humdrum pleased her, though. No more surprises. She was too hungry to deal with them now.
When Sintal appeared before her, nestled on a flat expanse of rock in between two walls of jagged stone, she felt a rush of excitement, not apprehension.
Finally, food, civilization.
The road they were on split through the town, which had many large buildings with long black spires cut into shards like crystals.
The town was silent and dark, with only dimly lit crystals suspended inside streetlamps that gave the place a murky, empty feel.
There weren’t many elves walking around, and she halfway wondered if the town was deserted.
But the closer they got to a tavern, the less she thought this way.
The noise could be heard from the arched door before they entered.
Shikra spoke a word of entering, and the stone door slid open, revealing a smoky parlor decorated in sleek black stone with a few tables full of Dark Elf patrons of all sorts drinking, eating, and enjoying the company at their tables or the entertainment provided by the tavern.
A group of soldiers sat at one table, clad in simple black armor plates worn over leather.
Their commander in black shining armor sat austerely at its head, paying no mind to the dancing girls his men were so taken by, and focused his attentions on his glass of wine.
Most of the other tables were full of males and females dressed in lavish, beautiful clothes. The more well-to-do class.
There was a pleasant, woodsy scent wafting through the tavern. Incense burned in decanters. Sandalwood. Expensive. The trees only grew in a special place in Wood Elf territory that had hot temperatures year-round.
They passed by the rows of tables full of patrons and dancing girls wearing flowing dresses that revealed a lot of skin and left little to the imagination. A bard troupe played in the corner, a jaunty tune that gave the girls a good beat to kick their feet up to.
“I need a room and supper for two,” Shikra said at the bar.
“Five coins of copper,” the innkeeper replied.
Shikra placed a gold coin on the bar. “This is all I have. Can you make change?”
The innkeeper’s eyes went wide at the glint of gold. “Of course, kyr .” He plucked it up from the bar with vim and turned around to his coin box, sorting through its contents. “I can give you five silvers as change.”
That wasn’t the greatest deal.
Shikra frowned, but he must have been tired because he didn’t haggle and took the silver coins without protesting .
Aelrie felt the innkeeper’s eyes on her even though she tried to keep her head down.
“Slaves cannot sleep in the rooms,” the innkeeper then told Shikra. “Once your slave has done her service, she needs to go to the cellar, to the slave quarters to sleep.”
She quieted a gasp in her throat. Surely they didn’t expect her to sleep with the goblins.
Shikra didn’t respond to the innkeeper’s demand. “Bring our supper up to us. We do not wish to be disturbed otherwise. You can keep the rest of the silver you owe me as a tip.”
The innkeeper went to say something, maybe a retort to defend himself, but he then met Shikra’s eyes, and his own eyes fell to the floor along with his bowed head. “Yes, kyr .”
The room was upstairs. Spacious. Lit in dim purple light.
There was a round table with two chairs, a black stone bathtub with a marbled black and gold divider separating it from the bed.
One bed. Black, pointed headboard, claws at the feet, with shimmering amethyst satin sheets, looking both inviting and intimidating.
The door shut, leaving her alone in the room with Shikra.
Startled, she jumped.
“Relax, no one will come for you here. You don’t have to sleep in the cellar,” Shikra said, making himself comfortable in their room for the night.
“But the bed,” she spoke, giving a furtive glance at the thing in question.
“What about it? ”
“We have to share it.”
“How is it any different from last night?”
It wasn’t. But sleeping in a bed together felt more intimate. She’d never slept in a bed with anyone before.
“I will not harm you, I promise. You do trust me, don’t you?”
She reluctantly nodded her head.
“Take a bath, relax.” He motioned with his head towards the bath. “Leave your clothes to be laundered.”
Clean clothes. Such a simple, everyday thing seemed extravagant now. “But what will I wear?”
He opened a dresser and handed her a silk robe. It was full-length and had a beautiful design of purple irises on it.
“I have to check on something. I’ll be gone for just a moment. Don’t answer the door for anyone. Only I have access to the room.” He must have noticed her apprehension because he added, “You are safe here with me. Trust me.” He left, and the door clicked shut behind him.
Just where was he off to?
Indulging her curiosity and following him was not a good idea, though. It was unwise to leave the room without him.
The bath, however, was impossible to resist after so many nights sleeping rough. And after everything they’d endured together, there was trust between them now. If it wasn’t safe, Shikra wouldn’t have left her here.
She took off all her clothes and placed them neatly on the dresser as the bathtub filled with water. From the variety of soaps and oils available, she chose lavender oil, it being the most familiar .
The heated water felt good on her tired body. Her head lolled to the side. Lavender always made her sleepy.
A noise jostled her awake.
She’d fallen asleep in the bath; the water had turned cold.
Straining to hear it again, there was nothing but silence. Then, came a knock, clear and deliberate. Definitely not something she’d imagined.
Her naked flesh shivered in the cold bath, sensing ill intentions from whoever lay on the other side, even though she had no clue who they were. Alarm bells were ringing in her ears, yet she could see no fire and smell no smoke.
Frozen in place, she waited. The knocking stopped, but the presence lingered. Tense moments stretched on.
But then, whoever it was left. Her muscles relaxed.
It was probably nothing important.
Wrapped in a silky robe, she sat on the bed’s edge, massaging lavender and vanilla lotion into her hands when Shikra returned. His nose lifted as he entered, catching the scent in the air. He turned to her, eyes bright with approval. He must be very sensory-oriented, especially with scent.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
She nodded but did not tell him about what had happened earlier. It seemed inconsequential. Someone knocked on the door. He would think her ridiculous if she brought it up as a concern .
He went behind the divider, and his clothes ended up flopped over the top one by one, and the water started to run.
She continued putting the lotion on, working it into the balls of her feet as she gave herself a desperately needed foot massage.
Shikra came out of the bath after a while and towel dried his long white hair as he stood in front of her wearing nothing but a black bathrobe.
Her mouth couldn’t help but hang loose.
Why did he look so sexy right now?
He caught her looking, and she immediately looked down at his feet. But that wasn’t any better. Why did he have such sexy feet?
“Hmph.” He gave a little self-satisfied chuckle. He’d caught her looking, caught her interest. But he didn’t say anything else on the matter, to which she was grateful, and left to take their clothes downstairs to be laundered.
Another knock sounded, and she froze—it wasn’t Shikra.
He didn’t knock.
She hesitated, remembering his warning. Voices murmured outside. Then the door opened, and Shikra entered, followed by a server with their dinner.
Maybe that was who knocked earlier, and she got all spooked for nothing but suppertime. How silly of her.
The server set the table and then left. Shikra stopped him and casually placed a silver coin in his hand. “We do not wish to be disturbed for the rest of the evening.”
“Yes, kyr .” The server bowed and left .
They sat down at the table, and she marveled at the spread. Going without eating for a long time, even the simplest meals seemed like the grandest feast, but looking at all the food present on the table, this would have been delicious even if she weren’t starving.
There was a thick savory stew made with chickpeas, rosemary-roasted beef, flatbread, and wine.
Everything was perfect, but the roasted beef was exquisite.
She had heard about the quality of beef in the Evergloom.
The Dark Elves raised a species of cattle that had the softest, fattiest meat because they did not have much grazing room, so they ate the moss and lichen that grew on the rocks.
Dark Elf beef could be found in Alfheim by not-so-legal methods, mainly the black market, so it was rare, expensive, and found at only the finest, most private, invitation-only taverns she could never afford. To have a taste of this delicacy was a treat.
Sandalwood and cinnamon came from the tropical forest native to only a small area in Wood Elf land. Rosemary and lavender were prevalent in temperate Light Elf land. “Sandalwood, lavender, rosemary, and cinnamon. How do the Dark Elves attain such ingredients in the Evergloom?” She had to ask.
“We have runners,” Shikra answered her.
“Runners?”
“They make trips to the surface to gather the ingredients and sell them to the markets and Houses.”
“So, thieves.”
“Forgive us if we miss the taste of our old home. As a Light Elf, you would not understand the pain of banishment from one’s homeland.
The herbs and spices that grow in Wood Elf and Light Elf lands have been part of our culture since before we came to the Evergloom.
Some things are hard to change. We haven’t been completely lost to the dark.
We still retain vestiges of the light. The life we once had on the surface.
” He said this while swirling his glass of wine.
She inwardly winced from a pang of guilt. Shikra hadn’t been calling her “Ljósálfar” anymore. His answer to her rudeness was civilized and spoke of no retribution toward her.
“How about dessert?” Shikra asked. “They have a lovely pear tart, or so I’ve been told.”
That did sound lovely. But wait … “How are you paying for all this?” she then blurted out.
“I have much gold coin to spend,” he answered. “Don’t worry about that.”
He had gold to spend. He was an assassin. So that meant the gold he had, he made from …
Was this … Lindana’s blood money?
Her head suddenly felt dizzy. The beef she once thought so succulent turned to ash in her mouth.
She needed to get out …
Her legs made it down the corridor, but she found it hard to breathe and had to lean her head against the wall.
When her eyes opened, she faced the smoky parlor, but the conversations had stopped; the girls stopped dancing, and the troupe stopped playing their music as they stared back at her, an impenetrable wall of eyes, judging, assessing, devouring .
There was a heaviness behind her. Eyes immediately turned away, conversations picked up again, and the music and dancing tried to lighten the mood with a whimsical tune.
She turned around, knowing Shikra was there. His face held quiet sorrow. “I cannot change the past, little flower,” he said softly. “Come back with me.”
She stared at his outstretched hand, feeling the eyes at her back, but ignored his “peace offering,” pushing past him back to the room.
Nothing mattered anymore … she was so tired … needed an escape from her reality, if only for a respite. The sheets felt impossibly silky and cool against her skin as she sank into the bed. The lavender oils worked on calming her mind.
She circled the pillow, trying to lose herself in it, to disappear for a while. Her limbs were heavy and sank into the mattress, dragging her down with them.
For a moment, she let herself believe the world outside didn’t exist. No responsibilities, no regrets, no aching questions with no answers. Just silence.