The soft red carpet brushed Layala’s bare feet as she dashed down the stairs. Guards and the house staff ran in every direction, shouting orders or frantic for help. It was both terrible and a blessing; no one noticed them or cared about their presence. The front doors to the manor opened wide to the chaos outside of people screaming and crying. Acrid gray smoke made the town square hazy. Another great roar rattled the ground. How close was Varlett? Maker above, Layala was in a skimpy outfit with no weapons, and she might have to fight a dragon? She’d never felt so exposed in her life.
A slender guard raced up the stairs, shoving between Layala and Piper. “Lord Brunard!” he hollered.
She paused only to look back and see the guard disappear into Brunard’s chambers. Not good. Not good at all. A beat later he yelled, “Lord Brunard has been assassinated!” He stepped into the archway. “Stop them!”
Shit.
Taking two steps at a time, and half looking over her shoulder at the guard now racing after her, Layala crashed into the back of Thane. The ringing of metal hit her ears then a head plopped to the floor. Did he always have to cut off heads? She stared at the brown eyes looking back at her. So barbaric. With a tight grip on her arm, Thane dragged Layala beside him. Wood splintered as his foot collided with the door and sent it flying. It was the room they’d left their clothes in. “Dress. Quickly.”
“If you hadn’t kicked the door off its hinges, we could have shut it!” Layala hollered snatching up her shirt.
The other door, the one that led into the kitchen flew open and slammed against the wall. Leif and Fennan stood on the other side. “Time to go!” They both said in unison. Leif took in Layala and Piper’s nearly-naked appearance and his eyes doubled in size. Fennan’s jaw dropped as his eyes glided over Piper from head to toe.
With a scoff, Piper quickly threw her shirt on. “Are you going to stand there and ogle or help Thane?”
The dying groan of an elf jerked Layala’s attention. Thane tore his blade free of another guard and his body crumbled to the floor. Three more blades came at Thane in rapid succession, the pinging of metal on metal sang throughout the high ceilings. His skill with a sword was almost magical in itself. His talent beyond his years, as if wielding a weapon was what he was born to do.
Leif dashed to Thane’s aide with sword raised high and a bellow. They both stepped out into the corridor to fight.
A dark blond head popped into the room. Siegfried didn’t seem to care about the state she and Piper were in. “With me, quickly,” he said.
With her top hanging from her teeth, Layala stepped into her pants. Another dragon roar rocked the manor. Much closer this time. How long could the guards hold her off? Or was she simply toying with them? Several minutes passed since they’d first heard her. She could be inside by now.
Layala slipped her shirt on, strapped on her sword, and said, “Let’s go!”
Piper held out the stone to Layala and pushed it into her hand. “You should be the one to carry it.”
The brown cloth covered the stone, but she half expected to feel something from it. No vibrations or humming like the portals. No sign it was magical at all. Did Brunard lie? Did he trick them, knowing Thane would kill him anyway? Layala unwrapped the stone and touched her fingertips to the surface of the rock no larger than her palm. It was cool and ordinary, but a sort of static spark zapped her. That was good right? She lifted her inspection to Thane. He stepped toward her with streaks of blood like raindrops sliding down his thunderous face. Maker, he looked like the god of death, the reaper he’d promised to be. But his green eyes, bright and wild like an untouched forest, told a story of lament for what he must be, what they needed him to be to survive.
A deafening crash and then heeled boots on hard stone. Varlett must be inside. “Oh, Lord Brunard!” She sang in a sickly-sweet voice. “You have something I need.”
Thane held his arms wide, herding them into the kitchens. “She hasn’t seen us. Run.”
A thick cloud of dark smoke roiled up into the sky. Shouts for help and cries of agony drifted to Layala’s ears even as they stood at a distance. The towns folk ran with buckets of water to put out the massive fire at the town’s square. Bright-orange flames engulfed a huge oak tree surrounded by what was a white picket fence, now char and ash.
The Ravens ran alongside the town, hidden among many trees and foliage. Aunt Evalyn and Tif were nowhere in sight so they must have run back to the horses as they were directed to. At least, she hoped. Layala’s lungs burned from their pace to get away and the smoke in the air, but she had to ask, “Does that tree mean something?”
“It’s the sacred tree of Anami,” Siegfried answered from her left side. He brushed the back of his hand over his forehead, the sadness in his eyes was evident. Did he have ties to the woodland elves or was he simply sympathetic to what was sacred to them? “Every elf in Calladira goes through a trial of some kind. Finding a fresh well of spring water, bringing home a deer to feed the family, raising and caring for an animal from birth. They mark the tree when they pass and accomplish something for the community and a new leaf sprouts. Or at least, it did.”
That pricked Layala’s heart a little. Even through the flames its fullness was unmistakable. Why did Varlett have to be such a heartless wench? Tearing her eyes away from the burning tree, Layala followed behind the group as they solemnly made their way back to the horses.
It was only when they’d gotten far enough away that the crackling flames and the shouts couldn’t be heard anymore. They slowed to a brisk walk. Layala took the stone from the pouch on her hip. Without an imminent threat, she could get a feel for it. She turned the white stone, about the size of a large duck egg, over in her hands. It was cool and rough-edged against her flesh, and if the thing beheld great power, it didn’t feel like it. That one spark was the only sign it wasn’t as plain as a sparkly rock plucked from a river.
“Doesn’t look like a magic stone,” Aunt Evalyn said, popping out from behind a tree. Tif clung to her back. Her little red hat and brown curls bouncing with each step Evalyn took. She had the biggest smile plastered on her face and there was no doubt in Layala’s mind that she was up to something or found something she was proud of.
Layala slowed to fall into step beside her aunt. Aunt Evalyn limped ever so slightly and the way her boots crunched over grass was comparable to a horse clop while the elves sounded hardly more than a butterfly landing on a flower. Layala almost forgot how much different humans were. Watching on with concern, Layala’s eyebrows furrowed. Aunt Evalyn placed her hand over her chest and took in deep breaths. This journey was a hardship on her, maybe too much.
Layala tucked the stone back into the pouch. “According to Brunard it must be paired with a scepter that the dragon king has. And we won’t know if it’s real or fake until we do that.”
Aunt Evayln’s brows raised. “The dragon king?” Her gaze dropped and she went quiet for a moment, contemplative. “Layala, I’m too old for all this. I’m a plant collector. I like my naps and I like my home.”
With a shocked expression, Tif patted Aunt Evalyn’s black curls like she was a cat. “You’re not old.” She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Although, I sometimes forget humans don’t live very long.”
Layala swallowed hard. It was selfish to ask her to stay when it put her in so much danger, but she also worried about the risk it was on her own. Briar Hollow already burned once. Who’s to say that they wouldn’t come back a second time? “But we might need you. You’re good at healing.”
“I am more of a burden to all of you than a help. You’ve always been special, and I knew you’d do something great but Briar Hollow needs to be rebuilt. It’s home. You don’t need me anymore, my dear child. You haven’t for years.”
“No,” Layala said, a spike of fear pushed her voice higher. “If you leave, you’re in danger. Tenebris could capture you, or—”
They stopped and she gently took Layala’s hand into hers. “He’ll be busy trying to find you and Thane.” Aunt Evalyn looked at Thane’s back several yards ahead. He and Fennan led the group and appeared to be in deep conversation. “I am still somewhat wary about your relationship but it’s obvious that he loves you. I didn’t want to believe it, but anyone can see it. And in some ways, it makes me happy to see you so in love with him. After Novak, I worried you’d never smile again, that a dark cloud would follow you all your life. But you’re glowing even with all this chaos. I haven’t seen your pretty smile like this in years,” Aunt Evalyn grinned and patted Layala’s arm. “But elven wars and dragons are not for old human ladies like me. I can’t fight and after the sirens came and took your friend Gunner… I want to go home.”
“But…” Layala’s vision blurred with tears. She knew she must let her go, and that Aunt Evalyn was right, and this wasn’t a life for her, but she wanted her to stay for her own selfish reasons. Aunt Evalyn was the one constant she’d had all her life, the person she went to for advice and reassurance… but that shifted, didn’t it? Thane was that person now.
“Once we get to the portal you can send me back. Forrest and Ren are worried; everyone is. They need reassurance that you and I are alive and well.”
“Alright. I will send you home.”
Tifapine started blubbering and swiping at her tears. “I hate goodbyes. It’s just so sad. I mean what if we never see you again, Evalyn?”
Reaching over her shoulder, Aunt Evalyn rubbed her head. “Me too, little one, but you will.” Then she looked at Layala. “I expect updates regularly,” she held up a finger, “and your wedding, if I’m not the first to receive an invitation I’ll make you stand with your nose in a corner like when you were a child. Might even make you swish with bitter root.”
Layala laughed. “Uh, that is the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Serves you and Ren and Novak right for talking filthy.”
Layala wrapped her arms around her aunt and hugged her tightly. She inhaled her cinnamon scent and smiled. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. Even the bitter root.”
Aunt Evalyn patted her back gently. “Go and be the fierce warrior this world needs you to be.”
