Long Live the Elf Queen: Chapter 6
The portal hummed to life at Thane’s touch. His legs were on the verge of giving out, but he was on a mission and that alone gave him the strength to continue. At the base of the round stone as ancient as the very mountains, bright colorful wildflowers bloomed. Their aroma filled the balmy forest air. Thane looked up searching for the woodpecker who smacked his beak into the trunk of a tree like a hammer.
“So, this stone circle will bring us to The Valley?” Evalyn asked, skeptically.
“It will,” Thane answered. He and Evalyn argued about her coming along. This would be dangerous, and she’d be putting her life at risk. It was better if she stayed with Vesstan until he could bring Layala to her, but the woman was as stubborn as the she-elf he loved.
“Hello, again,” the voices of the portal hissed. “You survived. We are happy.” It was as if the stone was many people and they stood all around them, some closer, some farther away, all unseen. Were they ghosts of past mages tied to this place?
“We need passage into Palenor.” Thane took a deep breath, holding his injury tighter. The portal began to pull at his magic, his energy, and the ache intensified, throbbing with his pulse. Leif and Gunner both watched him warily, as if he was a fragile glass about to fall off a shelf. “Preferably on the outskirts of the Valley of the Sun. I’m not up for a walk through the unnamed forest when it’s almost dark.”
“As you wish.”
The center of the stone circle swirled to life, like rippling blue water.
Gunner cleared his throat. “Uh, you’ve done this before, right?”
“Many times. Follow me.” Thane dropped his hands to his sides, clenched his jaw and stepped through. He appeared on the grassy green lip of the Valley’s edge, overlooking his city. The setting sun stained the sky pink, coral, and a deep red. The golden rooftops sparkled in the dying light; Maker it was marvelous. Any other day he might stand here and admire the beauty of mother nature. Listening to the bustle of the city below where people walked the cobblestone streets, children ran and played, and the gong rang every evening as the sun set; a tribute to those who died in the war against the pale ones. He might bask in the sun’s warmth and study the way the bright orb radiated behind Castle Dredwich at this hour. But this day, Thane’s heart ached as he stared at the many peaks and towers built into the towering rock in the distance. Whipping wind moved the Palenor flag in giant waves like the rolling ocean. It wasn’t long ago he’d laughed and enjoyed himself at the Summer Solstice for the first time since he was a child. Without his father’s ominous presence, he’d been able to be himself. He didn’t have to worry his father might get angry and give orders to cut off someone’s head or scold him for being too friendly with the “common folk.” That was one thing Tenebris was adamant about, “never show the people weakness by relating to them. You must always appear to be above them,” he’d say. To be free of Tenebris, even if for a short while, let him discover who he was inside. He’d danced and laughed like he hadn’t in years and allowed himself to truly fall for Laya. But a dark cloud loomed over the castle. His father ruled there now, and Layala was a prisoner inside those deep-gray stone walls. Caged, like his heart felt with her gone.
Leif appeared at his side and tilted his head. “This way, sire.”
Running low on stamina, Thane took a deep breath. The pain in his gut throbbed like a fire licking at his flesh. It was difficult to focus on anything but that, and his heavy gear impeded him further. But at least he didn’t bear the extra weight of a little gnome. Leif volunteered to carry Tifapine, although she couldn’t weigh more than ten pounds. He closed his eyes for a moment, clenching his teeth together, willing the throbbing to stop. Maker, it was like someone shoved a hot poker inside him and dug it around. A blinding white light filled his vision, and his ears rang with a high-pitched whine. He felt himself wobble and pressed his palm flat across the injury. The pressure eased the searing pain if only in a minuscule amount.
A gentle hand gripped under his elbow, steadying him. “I think you need rest, sire,” Evalyn said. The concern lining her deep-brown eyes warmed his soul; she didn’t completely hate him. He didn’t know if he could stomach someone with blind loathing at this moment.
“I’ll be fine,” he wheezed, and winced at how out of breath he was.
“I don’t presume to tell a High King of the Elves what he is or is not capable of, but if you can’t stand on your own, you certainly can’t infiltrate a castle. Mage Vesstan was correct. You need rest, your highness.”
“Thane,” he amended, drawing in shallow breaths.
She pursed her lips. “Alright then, Thane. I love her too and I want her back, but you need strength to do it.”
“Once we’re at the apothecary, I’ll rest for the night. But we must not miss meeting the person with news of Layala. She might not stay around if we don’t show on time.”
“Can I help you keep your balance at least? I’m afraid you’re too large for me to be of much use for anything else.”
He smiled through the pain, urging forward to push through the ache. “Thank you, Evalyn. Your kindness means more to me than you know.”
When they entered the cobblestone streets teeming with elves, Thane pulled his hood up. He couldn’t risk anyone recognizing him and getting into a fight with city guards. He didn’t want to kill his own people, and walking at this point was a struggle.
They passed bookshops and smithies. A hammer clanked onto a horseshoe followed by sizzling hot metal in cool water when the elf male dropped it in. Leif gestured toward a poster nailed to a wooden pole. Thane paused for a moment.
WANTED: RAVEN WARRIORS
For crimes of Treason, Murder, and Mutiny.
All must be brought to justice for the safety of Palenor.
A REWARD of FIVE GOLD coins is offered for information that leads to the capture and execution of any Raven or known loyalists to the false traitor High King, Thane Athayel.
A wave of heat flooded his body and Thane grumbled. So, he was the traitor now, not his father who would sell them to the pale ones for power. He glanced around to see if the people watched him too closely or if he drew suspicion in his cloak and hood, but no one appeared to take interest.
“Come on, sire,” Gunner said quietly, adjusting his eyepatch. “The poster holds no true meaning. You are not a traitor.”
Thane shook his head, and they started off again. Leif nudged people aside to make way for Thane, but the streets thinned out as the sky began to darken. His stomach gurgled at the smell of roasting boar. It wasn’t that Vesstan was a bad cook, but he only ate fruits, vegetables, nuts, and bread with honey and that’s all Thane had too. Smoke rolled out of a beige stone chimney. A place named Effy’s Bakery. In the windows, layered cakes on platters were on display, and trays of buttered rolls and swirling buns with glaze. A lady turned the open sign over to closed as they went by.
A shorter, stout elf bumped into Thane, sending tendrils of pain through his core. Thane clenched his fists and sucked in a sharp breath, unable to stop himself from bending slightly at the waist. He didn’t want to admit his incapacity, but Thane was in no condition to be on a rescue mission.
It was one of his father’s guards who stopped and said, “Apologies, sir. Are you alright?”
Thane quickly turned his face away, staring at the light-tan stone under his feet. He didn’t dare speak or they’d recognize his voice. Preparing for the worst, he slid his hand to the thirteen-inch dagger at his hip.
Gunner grabbed Thane’s arm, steadying him. “He’s simply had too much to drink. I’ll be sure to get him inside.” It was a risky move drawing attention to himself like that. The Ravens were wanted elves. Thane watched the guards’ boots shuffle closer, and slowly withdrew his dagger from the sheath, keeping it hidden under his cloak. Leif would be more recognizable with his red hair and close friendship with Thane. He wisely remained quiet.
“You from Pridam?” the guard asked.
“Malock,” Gunner answered.
“I always liked the markings the elves from the east do on their skin. Yours are lunar phases. Does it mean anything?”
Thane quietly groaned, hoping it would be enough for Gunner to end this conversation. Too many questions. Too much time spent in one place.
“It’s a family tradition, but I best get him inside before he retches.” He pulled on Thane’s arm, and they started off.
The guard called out, “Wait.”
Letting out a huff, Thane bit down, gripping his dagger’s handle tighter. He stood at his full height and glanced up at the sky. The last of the pink and blue faded, revealing the stars. With fewer people on the streets, they could possibly kill these two without drawing a crowd if it came to it.
“I think you dropped this.”
Thane glanced back. The guard held a folded piece of parchment with a black Raven seal that would be their unveiling. Shit. Thane’s heart thundered. With narrowed eyes, the other guard snatched it, and pulled it open. Damn it all. Gunner’s dark-brown eye flicked to Thane and his throat bobbed. If there was nothing important in it, they could claim it wasn’t theirs and keep moving.
“What’s in it?” Thane breathed.
“Locations, names,” Gunner whispered. “We can’t let them leave with it.” The quiet shing of Gunner’s dagger sliding from his sheath rang as he stepped forward and grabbed the parchment. “A letter from my grandmother. Thank you for letting me know. She’s ill.” He attempted to pull it, but the guard didn’t let go.
“That is a Raven seal. Your grandmother a Raven?”
“My brother was. He died. Damn pale ones. She still uses the stamp to seal letters. She’s sentimental.” He pulled again and the two of them began a staring match both unwilling to let go of the parchment.
“How’d you lose that eye?”
“Stabbed by an intruder who broke into my home.”
Another set of guards came around the corner, and Thane silently cursed.
“Orders, sire?” Leif whispered as he stepped beside Thane.
“Take Evalyn and the gnome and go ahead.”
There was little choice now. In three strides, Thane was at the side of the guard, unwilling to let the parchment go, and shoved his dagger into his heart. The guard let out a quiet breath, mouth gaping. The other went for his sword, and Gunner stuck him through the middle.
“The other two?” Gunner asked, guiding the guard he stabbed slowly to the ground. He touched his forehead and whispered a quiet prayer, “May you rest and find peace this world doesn’t offer in the eternities.”
The other soldiers ran at them with swords drawn. Gunner threw two knives, hitting both his marks directly in the chest. After a few staggered steps, they hit the ground. Blood pooled around their bodies, reflecting the moonlight.
“Leave them,” Thane ordered, looking around. There were sure to be witnesses. They needed to move. Now. Gunner grabbed hold of Thane’s arm again, offering assistance as they jogged down the street. The pain seemed to recede slightly from the rush of tense energy coursing through his veins.
“How far are we from the apothecary?” Thane asked, barely able to catch his breath.
“Two blocks,” Leif answered, cutting into an alleyway. They splashed through a puddle and passed by windows with orange firelight. When they came out two streets over Thane sighed with relief; the sign read Adley’s Apothecary. Not only could he rest but maybe she would have a remedy for him. The black spots appearing across his vision and the weakness in his limbs made it difficult to walk without stumbling. Come on, keep going.
Strong hands on either side, grabbed hold. “Steady now,” Leif said. He knocked four quick raps on the wood door. The hinges groaned, and a lady in a gray dress with dark hair piled on her head stood inside. The warm glow of candles and bottles of various ambers, reds, and blues behind her was inviting.
Her eyes widened when they landed on Thane’s face. “High King,” she gasped. “Get inside, quickly.”
The black spots were larger now and as Thane’s boots crossed the threshold, creaking on the wood floorboards, his legs gave out. Gunner stopped him from crashing into the ground hard, but once Thane’s back lay on the warm wood, he closed his eyes and gave into the darkness.