Chapter 30
W hen they reached the dock, the dockmaster told them the ship was not boarding yet. They would have to wait until “morning” to board. It was “night” now, the time when most Dark Elves slept, when the crystal lights in the towns were dimmed.
They sat down on a bench lakeside and watched the still dark water shimmer in streaks of muted violet from the crystals hanging from the stalactites and rock wall above. Her teeth chattered, and she couldn’t control her shivering. It was colder near the water, and she wore next to nothing.
“Lay your head upon my lap,” Shikra told her.
What an odd request.
“I know you must be tired. And it’s cold. Come on.” He placed his arm at her side and scooted her closer to him. “That’s it, lie your head down.”
She rested her head upon his lap, and his arm crossed over her side. It did help fight the cold off a bit, along with her weariness.
They stayed like that in silence for a while. “Why did you come to rescue me?” she asked, so quietly she hoped he was asleep and did not hear.
There was silence; perhaps he was sleeping. His voice then came out, barely a whisper, “Why did you pray for me?”
She flipped onto her back to look up at him from his lap. He was gazing down at her with such affection that her heart clenched in her chest. A hand softly caressed her cheek, and she closed her eyes.
She must have dozed off, but she didn’t remember sleeping. Shikra propped her upright and stretched as he got up from the bench.
“Passengers are coming down the path from Sintal,” he said as groups of Dark Elves headed for the dock. “We should wait in line before they get here to be first to board.”
Aelrie lined up with Shikra, standing close to his back for two reasons that cut her like knives: the sharp, cold air his body heat helped alleviate, and hiding from the sharp, cold stares of the Dark Elves.
The line became long with the elves who kept coming down the path from the town. All that gathered would not be able to board the morning ship, and some would have to wait for the next one. She was glad they were first in line. Her toes were starting to go numb.
After Shikra paid the coin for their passage, the dockmaster opened the gate for them, but not before giving Aelrie a hard look. “Slaves must bunk in the bowels below,” he said, addressing only Shikra.
“You would make such a fine creature bunk with the goblins? Do you know how much I paid for her?” Shikra argued back .
The Dark Elf’s eyes assessed her nearly naked body, and even though he did not touch her, it was like his hands were already roaming wherever they pleased. An oily smile tugged at his thin lips. “Very well, but she has to stay on deck.” He then eyed Shikra closely. “The entire time.”
The deck was long and made up for how thin the ship was, built that way to pass through the tunnel ahead. They found a bench on the port side to sit. Dark Elves started filing in, and most went into the cabin below.
“Stay here,” Shikra said, eyeing the entrance to the cabin from which a savory smell wafted out. “I’ll find something to warm you up.”
She sat on the bench, shivering. Being on the water was even colder.
The skirt she wore, if she could even call it that, did not cover her entire bottom, and her flesh meeting the bench felt like she may well have been sitting on a block of ice.
Standing might’ve been warmer, but sitting helped her stay hidden from curious eyes.
A Dark Elf dressed in a lavish cloak with many gems glinting on his fingers stumbled upon the deck.
She looked down at her lap.
Please don’t notice me. Please don’t notice me.
“What have we here?” the Dark Elf slurred.
Fuck. She didn’t like cursing, even in her head. She always thought cursing was only for illiterate savages. But the situation called for it.
“A beautiful tart.” His breath was close to her; she could feel the heat from it and smelled the sour wine on it .
She continued looking down at her lap, hoping that if she ignored him, he would go away.
But he didn’t leave her alone. He persisted further. “How delicious.” His hand reached down to finger the golden chains dangling from her hips because of her ridiculous costume. “What’s all this, bells and whistles?”
“Hands off me!” Her attention wasn’t focused on her lap anymore.
“Ooh. A spicy tart made of *hic* cinnamon and fire.”
The Dark Elf was then pulled back.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Shikra snarled, holding the drunk elf by the neck of his collar in one hand and a bowl of something steaming in his other.
“Unhand me ruffian!”
“Hey,” a call came from the deck. “No fighting on board or I’ll kick the lot of you out.”
Shikra pushed the drunk elf back. “Go sleep it off before you do something you’ll regret.”
The elf stumbled and almost fell into another female holding the hand of a young child. By this time, the captain had taken notice, and he personally made sure the drunk went into the cabin below and away from the ire of the other passengers.
“Here, drink this.” Shikra handed her the bowl that was in his hands.
It was chicken broth, but the meat was black. She’d heard of these chickens before, all black with shiny black feathers and black meat and bones. They raised them in the Evergloom .
“I’ll be right back,” he then told her. “No one should mess with you. If they do, tell me immediately and I’ll deal with it.”
She nodded her head and sipped more of her chicken broth.
Shikra came back not long after he left. He carried with him a pair of leather boots and a blanket, thin and made of wool.
“Where did you get these boots?” They were a little too big on her, but she wasn’t complaining. The relief was instant the moment she slipped her frozen feet into the fur-lined leather boots.
“I requisitioned them.”
“You mean stole.”
“Don’t worry, his broken nose will be more of a problem for him than his missing boots.”
“You didn’t.” Then, the drunken pervert from before.
He shrugged. “I did. Seems he had an ‘accident,’ slipped and fell flat on his face.”
He handed the blanket to her, and she placed it over her shoulders, clasping the sides together with her hand at her chest. Warmth at last. She used her other hand to sip the rest of the hot broth, still steaming in the bowl.
Shikra went to get himself a bowl of broth and came back with a long piece of flatbread too. He broke off a piece of the bread and fed it to her. She snorted a laugh at him.
“Don’t laugh,” he said, almost laughing himself.
“You’ll spill your breakfast.” He took a bite of the flatbread and sipped on his bowl of broth as he looked out onto the water.
All the passengers that could fit on the ship had boarded, and it began its move toward the glowing tunnel.
The long oars underneath them moved in precision, the work of goblin slaves from the bowels.
It was slow going as the ship had to fight the current, albeit a weak one, pushing it downstream toward that dark waterfall.
She joined him at the ship’s edge, looking out into the water. They finished their broth in silence.
“Earlier,” Aelrie started, turning to Shikra. “When you were talking about Briza and a sacrifice that had to be made. What did you mean by that?”
“You truly did not understand what happened back there?” He sounded like he was talking to a child. She didn’t like it, but she liked being oblivious as to what it meant even less.
She frowned, and her brows creased. “I think I do, but …”
“That was a famous brothel, illicit but famous, nonetheless. The madam was part of a powerful House, House Mistmire. Zaya Mistmire, the last of her House. She once controlled an empire, one that you ended.”
“Why did you give me the dagger? Why did you let me kill her?”
“It was your kill to make.”
She sighed. That was true. “She was my first kill.”
“And?” he drawled. “How does it feel?”
Surprisingly, she felt nothing, nothing at all. This nothingness concerned her. “I guess I feel vindicated.” That was what she should have felt at the very least.
“Would that we were all so lucky in our kills.” His voice held no feeling, but his sad eyes betrayed his stoicism .
The feeling, whatever it was, disappeared as soon as it appeared, though. “But with Madam Zaya’s downfall, there will be consequences, inquests into her death. Briza stayed behind for that reason,” he told her, getting back on the topic of Briza and her actions back at the brothel.
“She can’t!” Aelrie grabbed Shikra’s arm. “We must go back.”
He took hold of her hand and released it. “We must not. You would be executed on the spot, immediately, with no trial, no exceptions. And I cannot be seen. You must know, I only work from the shadows. I dare not show my face and give my name to others. It would be the same death sentence for me.”
“I can’t let her do that for me. I won’t let her sacrifice herself for me.”
“She didn’t do it just for you.”
“Darranyae.”
“See, you do understand.”
“Darranyae’s honor,” she said, but more to herself. She wondered if Darranyae knew this; maybe that was why her look was so painful the last she’d seen of her. “But I don’t think Darranyae …”
He stopped her by resting his hand on her shoulder, his face turned upwards. “Look.”
She looked up. Hanging down on silken threads, phosphorescent blue glowing orbs lit up the dark cave.
The ship had rowed into the tunnel whose ceiling was covered by a blanket of glow worms, like serene stars upon a distant world, giving everything in the cave the same blue-green hue.
Other Dark Elves had come from the cabin to get a look and marvel at the lights .
Her head stayed fixed on the lights. In such a cruel, dark world, knowing beauty such as this existed in hidden pockets was a gift, like tender feelings held deep inside no one else could see.
She turned back to Shikra but realized he wasn’t staring at the glowing worm lights. He was staring at her, and more specifically, her lips. “Shikra …”
“Fyn,” he then said, still looking at her lips. “I want to hear you say that name, not Shikra.”
“Fyn. What is that?”
He drew in a deep breath and released it. “My name. Telfyn Shadowblade, bastard son of Korfyn Shadowblade, the patriarch of House Shadowblade, my father.”
She stood there and stared, her mouth agape. He lifted her chin up. “Close your mouth. It shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise.”
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head slightly. “I wasn’t surprised at the name, just that … you wanted to share it with me.”
“I want to be honest with you. I want you to know me. That starts with knowing who I truly am.”
“Fyn.”
His face softened as did his voice. “The last person who called me by that name was my mother. It was her name for me.”
She desperately wanted to ask about his mother, but the sadness on his face warned her otherwise.
“Red.”
“Hmm?” She looked at him bemusedly. That was a sudden change of topic .
“Everything about you is red.” He looked her up and down. “Red dress, red nails, red lips.” He was staring at her lips again.
She grew hot and didn’t feel comfortable with all these other Dark Elves around. “It’s a bit ridiculous. They took it a little too literally.”
He smirked at her, a sensuous smile on his handsome face, really playing up his rogue-like character.
She bit her bottom lip and tightened her hand around the blanket she held. “You said you wanted me to know you, well, I want you to know me. The real me. I am a maiden; you already know that. But you don’t know why.”
He stood there quietly, paying attention to her and her words, so she went on, and leaned against the railing, listening to the dripping sounds from the cave and the quiet awe and marveling from onlookers who had come to see the glowing lights in the cave.
“I took a vow of chastity when I became personal guard to the high priestess. My vow was important to me. My life had purpose, to serve her and protect her and everything she represented. Now, that is gone from me.”
“I told you, little flower, I can’t change the past.” He joined her against the railing.
She stood straight. “Aelrie. Call me Aelrie, Fyn.”
“Aelrie.” It sounded so sweet on his lips, like he was in a dream and called out her name.
“I know you can’t change the past, and neither can I. I don’t think I even expect an apology from you at this point. ”
“And what would I apologize for?” He straightened before her, his shoulders coming up to her head. Aelrie was tall for a female, and Dark Elves were known to be shorter than Light Elves, but he was taller than her. “I had a job to do, as much as you did.”
There he was widening the gap between them once again. Maybe she had first with insinuating he owed her an apology, but she really thought they were getting somewhere here. She guessed wrong, then.
“Don’t make that face.” He pulled her chin toward him. “I have something to remedy that frown.”
He took her in his arms. His lips pressed against hers. Whispers and clamors of disgust sounded around them. His lips broke from hers, but not his embrace.
He breathed into her ear. “You should know, they’re the only thing stopping me from taking you now.”
“Then, that’s it,” she whispered back. “That’s what you wanted from me, why you came for me.”
He broke away from her. “You think I rescued you and risked getting seen in the process, because I wanted your maidenhood? Don’t tell me you think so little of me.”
Maybe it was just everything she’d been through recently that was skewing her perception. “Then why are you so forward with me?”
“I can’t help what you do to me. The way you make me feel.” His arms around her tightened, and his nose nuzzled the back of her ear, sending shivers up her spine. She felt suffocated, but not just because of his embrace.
The need for him grew as did her conflicting feelings, part guilt, part confusion about how she ended up here.
Feeling dizzy, she had to sit, and made her way to a bench.
He watched her walk away and then turned back to the railing, looking out into the dark cave, leaving her alone to her thoughts and him to brood in his own.