I’d jutted my chin at her, and she’d laughed. “You are very much an enigma. I don’t know what to do with you.” She’d bit her lip, her dark brows furrowed in thought.
But then I’d felt dizzy, and the world went dark as I’d passed out, falling forward out of the wagon bed and into her arms.
A few days later, I’d woken up on a cot by the fireplace inside her home. A strange creature, called a brownie, was stoking the fire, and a tall man with long black hair, pointed ears, and gray eyes had been speaking to Lady Eville. His uniform was green and trimmed in silver.
“You can’t be serious. Do you know what you are asking of me?”
“I know it’s asking a lot, Lorn. Those horrible people abandoned her, and I can’t keep her here. Her gift will interfere with the others' training. It’s just too powerful.”
“What is it exactly?” he’d asked, looking over at me.
I’d closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, watching the handsome elf through heavy lids.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like her. She nullifies magic, but not only that. Over the last few days, when she is at her weakest, her body pulls magic from those closest to her. I’ve been able to protect the girls by supplementing her hunger with my own magic. But I find it best when I take her to the ley line near the fairy circle. It seems to stabilize her. Gives her strength. But what happens when she’s older and stronger? If she isn’t trained right, she could kill those closest to her.”
“But I’m expendable?” Lorn had asked.
“No, never. You’re the only one I can trust with her. I need you to do this for me, Lorn. You’re the only one who can train her to live off the land, away from people. Where she can’t harm anyone.”
“She’s going to have questions,” he’d answered. “What do you want me to say?”
“Speak the truth, but hide her ability from others. They won’t understand. They will fear her and may even hate her. You know what that’s like.”
Lorn had nodded. “I do. I will do as you ask, Lorelai, because it is you who is asking.”
The next time I saw Lorn, he was no longer wearing his green scout uniform, and he never donned it again.
I assumed that loss was the reason I wanted Percy to be a scout so badly. To try to earn the uniform Lorn had given up because of me.
I’d learned years later that the couple that abandoned me weren’t my real parents. They admitted to Lorelai Eville after she’d pressured them under the threat of a curse. They’d found me crying in a basket in the arms of a dead young woman, a black and gold arrow buried in her heart—arrows only used by the southern elves. They had to assume the woman had trespassed and was killed for doing so.
The couple took me in as their daughter and never admitted what they had done—until confronted by Lady Eville.
“Have you ever seen the southern elves of Sion?” I asked Percy.
He was always reluctant to talk about the southern elves. Everyone was, for they were like a bad omen. One didn’t speak of their kind or name. “I have.”
“And?” I pressed for more.
“Only humans have this unnecessary need for information,” he rebuked.
“We’re curious, that’s all. Our lives are shorter. What do you expect?”
“True.” I thought he was going to ignore me, but he opened up. “They’re currently led by Allrick, and they keep to themselves. ”
“I know all of this.” I sighed. “But what about them? Their magic, a weakness. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Honor, you need to let it go, this obsession you have with them.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I said. “Not until I know if they really killed my mother.”
“A black arrow doesn’t prove guilt.”
“It doesn’t prove innocence, either.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you know already?” he said.
“Centuries ago, the elven king of the Thornhaven Court wasn’t happy with the gifts the earth bestowed upon the elves. He wanted more powerful magic than the normal elemental affinities and he did something that caused a split,” I said, reciting the answer I’d learned from Lorn.
Percy nodded. “The elder king made a deal with a dark sorcerer and allowed him access to the sacred hollow of Thornhaven. There was a great backlash of magic that spiraled out of the southern realm of Sion. It destroyed the temple of the sacred hollow, and it almost killed everyone in the realm. Dark magic leaked into the nearest ley lines which caused many of the creatures in the realm to become unnatural. Creatures like the brackenbeasts and the omnis began to appear. The elves of Thornhaven, their magic became . . . twisted,” Percy said, his eyes looking sad. “And they would forever become blamed for one man’s greed. Feared and hated by all, and the direct descendants of that leader are charged with guarding the tainted hollow for all eternity.”
I shivered somewhat and felt the slightest pressure as my old friend leaned a hair closer to me, pressing more of his leg and arm into mine. Most would not have noticed the elf’s movements. But I did, and soon heat seeped into my bones, enveloping me in warmth and safety. I struggled to keep my eyes open. I could feel them close. Each blink became longer than the previous. Until they didn’t open again.
CHAPTER THREE
I snapped awake, my head dropping forward as I started to fall off the crate. I caught myself, instantly alert, and I knew something was wrong.
It was night.
I was alone . . . and Rumple was gone.
I flung off the canvas tarp that had mysteriously appeared around my shoulders and ran to the window ledge, scanning the road below me. The streets were empty.
That thief!
He’d done it again. He’d stolen from me. I screamed internally. He’d probably spotted the axe at the tavern and followed me just so he could steal it.
When I get my hands on him, I’m going to kill him.
I jumped from the second-floor window and landed on my feet, my hand hitting the snow to steady me. I spun in a circle, searching the road, looking for the prints. It was a mass of hundreds of footsteps, and the falling snow made it quite difficult to find the right set.
There! A print that didn’t sink into the snow as deep as the others. It was barely discernible as it was quickly being covered by the fresh snow.
Percy’s footprint. One of the first lessons I’d learned from Lorn was that elves were light of foot. They could walk on top of snow, barely leaving a print behind. I followed the lighter footprints down a side road, into an alley that came out by the stables on the outskirts of town.
Was he running away? Stealing my sister’s axe? I actually wondered if it would be the end of the world if I let Percy take Rumple off my hands. That axe was quite the talker.
No. I owed it to Rheanon and Kash to take care of him. I said that I would bring him back.
The prints suddenly disappeared near a wall, and I looked up. The roof was low, perfect for scaling and getting onto the rooftops. Grabbing the overhang, I pulled myself up and took the easiest route, avoiding the snow-covered thatched roofs. I would hate to fall through one of those onto an unsuspecting family. About the eighth one over, I found a handprint on the gable. Percy was definitely here. But he didn’t seem to be running away, instead he was circling back toward the market.