Astream trickled quietly nearby, and the songs of swallows from the colorful trees overhead enchanted Thane enough to ignore the pain, if only for a moment. Breathing hard and muscles straining, his palms lay flat against the stone edge of the well, bracing most of his weight. With closed eyes, he listened to the calming serene sounds of nature, such a contrast to the agony mutilating his soul. He was desperate to go to Layala, but after three weeks he barely had enough strength to walk to the well outside Mage Vesstan’s cottage. He’d never had an injury take this long to heal, but he’d never been so close to death before. It was the Maker’s will he lived. Otherwise, he’d have died that day, and with the mate bond broken, Layala would have been safe. As much as it pained him to lose the connection to her, a small part of him was thankful. It meant she wouldn’t have to die if he did.
He grabbed the rope dangling over the well and set one hand over the other and tugged until the bucket rose from the darkness. The healing waters of Calladira washed down his throat and filled his stomach. A small blue and gold butterfly landed on the bare skin of his chest. Its little wings pulsed, and he briefly recalled the time he told Layala that butterflies brought good luck. He needed luck now.
Taking his tall, white wooden staff into hand, he leaned on it with each stride back toward the yellow cottage, fighting the twinge of pain in his torso. The pink, damaged flesh, shaped like a serrated eight-point star was sensitive to the touch. It was as big as his palm in both his front and back, a few inches above his belly button. He wasn’t sure it would ever fully heal like his other injuries had.
Mage Vesstan rocked in a chair on the small wooden porch, basking in the sun. His hair and beard shone even whiter in this light, but he somehow looked younger in his joy. He didn’t begrudge him for being at peace but wished he could be so relaxed. Thane drew close, and without opening his eyes, Vesstan said, “Now walk back again. Go on. Ten more times before you can rest. Tomorrow, I want you jogging. Picture her face at the end. You’ll get there.”
“You torment me, old mage,” Thane said but smiled and turned around. This reminded him of his days as an adolescent when Vesstan made him run, dive, and roll through an obstacle course, training for hours physically before Thane would even be allowed to practice his magic. “You must be able to fight through pain and discomfort, push your body to its breaking point to master your power,” he’d said.
Taking in a deep breath and slowly releasing it, Thane put one foot in front of the other, counting each step to focus his mind off the stabbing sensation in his torso. One hundred and fifty-seven paces later he stopped at the well again, leaning heavily on the wooden staff. After Varlett shoved her hand through him, he spent much of the first week in a hazy fever. That day flashed through his mind; he felt as if his insides were on fire, blazing hot enough to consume his entire being. He could hardly draw breath, couldn’t move. The screams of Layala as she attacked Varlett still haunted his nightmares. He desperately wanted to get up and help her but failed. He’d only had enough strength to reach out and touch his fingertips to the stone portal. Take us both. Take Layala and me somewhere safe. He couldn’t speak it aloud, but the portal hummed to life. The ability to carry himself through vanished with his strength, but he still hoped somehow it could take them. As if a strong gust of wind swept under him, he lifted off the ground. Layala, he begged.
But a quiet voice whispered, “She’s too far away.”
He was in and out of consciousness until Vesstan’s face hovered over him. “Tell Layala I’ll come for her,” were the last words he spoke before he lost sense of time and reality up until about a week ago. When he had enough sense to know day from night, he sent a message to Leif, his fierce, fire-haired warrior from the East, to gather the Ravens deep inside Brightheart Forest and wait for him there. From what he heard, Piper, Fennan, and Aldrich, along with other Ravens were being held in prison. Maker above, how could he have abandoned his friends to be captured? Even if they stood their ground while telling him to run, he shouldn’t have. It didn’t save Layala. It did nothing but end in misery. What were they going through right now? The horrors his father was capable of… the near-constant nausea intensified.
“Briar Hollow was burned to the ground a few days ago,” Vesstan called from the front porch.
Thane whirled around, a sudden energy snapping into him. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
“I sent word soon after your arrival here telling Layala’s aunt to leave. From what we’ve heard from the birds, she and the town were gone when the soldiers arrived. They still burned it of course, as they like to do.”
Thane ground his teeth and started back, grunting, and swearing under his breath. Layala loved that town, it was her home, but at least her aunt and friends were alive. Maker above, at the very least that.
Birds chirped annoyingly loud in the canopy of autumn trees. Didn’t they have better things to do like give him an update on Layala? A blue jay belted out a tune. He stared daggers at it.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes here,” Vesstan said, rocking gently back and forth in his chair.
“Who?”
“Layala’s aunt. You called her Evalyn. In your feverish fits you kept saying, ‘tell Evalyn to run. Briar Hollow’. I sent a letter explaining what happened and told her where to find you. It’s nice having a gnome around who can speak to birds.”
Thane pressed on, slowly gaining strength rather than tiring as he thought he would. Maybe movement was what he needed. “Find me? Why would she trust me? She watched me steal Layala from their home at knifepoint.” Why had he done that? It seemed foolish in hindsight, but then again Layala was a much different elf now than the one he had taken months before.
Vesstan lifted a shoulder. “A hunch. You’re the only one who can save Layala from Castle Dredwich.”
A tiny scream made Thane jump. He turned. And there was Tifapine running in from the woods with a fox right behind her. The fox’s upper lip pulled up, bearing two rows of small sharp teeth, ready to devour a meal. This gnome would be his end. He swore it.
“Help!” Tif wailed. Her brown curls bounced as much as her little protruding belly on her foot tall frame.
Thane grunted. Dropping his staff, he broke into as fast of a limping run as he could manage. He cursed himself and the damn dragon for how slow he was compared to the elf he used to be. Waving his arms, he shouted, “Get back!” The fox stilled. Its big fluffy tail poised in the air, but it kept its predatory gaze locked onto the gnome.
Tif’s dress snagged on something, and she went down and disappeared among the rich green grass. The mischievous little fox started for her again. That damn creature. Thane stretched out his hand, focusing his energy into his magic. Tifapine lifted into sight and flew through the air. She squealed like a dying cat until she reached the cradle of his arm. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the dramatics.
With her little body shaking, Tif clung to him, digging her sharp nails into his forearm. “I feel dizzy.”
“Get!” Thane shouted at the fox and stomped his foot. The small furry beast turned and slinked back into the shadows until it disappeared.
Out of breath, Thane said, “Tifapine, what have I told you about going into the woods by yourself?”
Pushing out her bottom lip, she whimpered, “You said, ‘stay in the clearing because the woods are dangerous.’ But I was hungry, and the berries are just right on the other side of the tree line. Big, juicy, fat red ones. I’ve been eating them for days. Then that big ol’ mean fox had to ruin everything.”
The exertion it took to use his power and run after Tif left the pain in his abdomen burning and throbbing. Shaking his head, he sucked in shallow breaths and started back for the cottage. That little blue jay Thane saw earlier dropped down from the sky in front of him, frantically tweeting. Thane’s eyebrows rose when Tifapine slapped a palm over her mouth, nodding. What could it possibly be saying? He still found it odd that she could converse with birds.
“No!” she said through her fingers then dropped her hand. “Are you serious?”
Thane looked from the blue jay to Tif. “What?” The bird kept madly tweeting, and Tif kept up with her cryptic “nos” and “oh my goodnesses”. Thane’s patience was at its end, but the bird zipped away. With a sigh, Thane set his jaw and gave Tifapine a scowl.
“Oh, I sometimes forget you don’t understand tweet.” She cleared her throat. “He said they took Layala from the tower and the dragon lady is there and so is a pale one named Math-uh-whiss.”
“Kis,” Thane corrected.
“Kiss, you say?” Her brows shot up. “I mean, you’re engaged to Layala, but I can spare a kiss on the cheek, I suppose.”
“No.” Thane rolled his eyes. “Mathekis. His name is Mathekis.”
“Oh,” she drawled with a blush. “Right. I swear I’ve heard that name before. It sounds creepy. Do we know him?”
Thane closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Oh, and you know they haven’t been feeding her, right? Did I tell you that?” Her already ruddy cheeks deepened in color, and she grew a sheepish grin.
Thane set Tif down and squeezed his hands into fists, digging his nails into his calloused palms. “No, you forgot to mention that huge detail,” Thane snapped. He marched even faster, ignoring the throbbing pain, mind whirling. He must get to her. Now. “And for one who never stops talking, I don’t see how you didn’t tell me. You’ll go on and on about falling out of a tree when you tried to steal a bird egg but not about Layala starving.” This gnome was absolutely infuriating. Perhaps he should call the fox back.
Tif frowned, running beside him to keep up. “Well, first of all, it wasn’t just any bird, it was a Calladiran mockingbird, and I hate them. They are mean—one tried to peck my very eye out. They’re only good for their eggs at breakfast. I like blue jays and sparrows best. Ravens creep me out a bit, not going to lie. And I only found out about Layala’s dreadful circumstances five days ago. And it’s not like you could have gotten out of bed to go help her anyway. I thought you needed to heal first, or you’d try to leave before you were ready. Believe me it was a hard secret to keep. I’ve never been good at keeping secrets. Especially from my High King.”
If she didn’t stop rambling… Thane groaned. “I could have found a way to send her food. And with no more notes or any sign from me in weeks, she probably thinks I’ve abandoned her or that I’m dead.” He barely gained her trust fully. Who knew what was going through her mind.
Tif looked up at him, chin wobbling. “And I sure hope she doesn’t think you’ve abandoned her. My poor Layala, cold and hungry and hopeless. The birds say she cries a lot. I should have gone with her but that stupid portal sucked me in when it took you. I mean, I was next to you getting into my pouch for some healing leaves.” She sighed. “I did try to send her a bag of berries, but my messenger birds keep dying. They get shot down. Ol’ blue is my last trooper. None of the others will risk getting close to spy.”
“Why were you next to me when the portal pulled you in?” Not that he completely disliked the gnome, but she was almost like tending to a child. An obligation he didn’t need at the moment.
“I said I was getting healing leaves.”
“I mean how did you catch up to us? You’re as slow as a snail.”
“Well, that’s rude.” She flipped her brown curls over her shoulder. “But anyway, when Layala said ‘run’, I ran after you two. Because of course she’d want me with her. When you ditched Phantom to go into the woods, I climbed up and we followed. Poor horsey, I wonder where he is now.”
Pressing a firm hand against his injury, Thane carefully bent down to pick up his walking staff. Tifapine was right. He wasn’t ready to invade the castle, but he must anyway. There was no telling what Mathekis or Varlett would do to Layala. His father had starved her for almost four weeks? As if that wasn’t enough torture. Leaning on his staff, he made his way toward Vesstan. His feet crunched lightly over the thick grass, and he swatted at a bee that buzzed by his ear. He needed to change, get weapons, and pack a small bag of provisions. He stepped past Vesstan, pushing open the white cottage door. “My father has removed Layala from the tower. Mathekis and Varlett are there. I must go.”
With more vigor and swiftness than he’d seen Vesstan use in years, the old mage jumped up and marched after him. “You’re in no condition to do so. You’ll get yourself killed and then what good are you to her? To any of us?”
Thane rested his staff against the wall and left it behind. For good. The pain throbbing in his core was intense but he was used to it now. Even with the healing leaves and salves, the pain became an unceasing companion. If he didn’t think about it, it seemed to dull some. Maybe getting out of here was what he needed. It would take his mind off what he’d endured in the last month. Being tortured in the cage in Newarden by Brunard and then having a dragon’s fist shoved through him, but worst of all was losing Layala. Having their magical bond severed just when they knew they truly loved one another. When they accepted they would be eternal mates. Maker above, he loved that elf more than life. “I can’t sit here any longer and do nothing.” Thane grabbed a dark brown leather bag and started around the room to collect items he’d need for the road.
Vesstan followed close behind him. “Look how much jogging a few yards taxed your strength. And you expect to fight well-trained soldiers on your own? Fight Mathekis or the dragon shifter again? You barely survived, Thane. If it weren’t for your lineage and the aid of healing paste, you’d be dead. You know I’d love to help you more, but my magic isn’t strong enough.”
“My strength is returning. It will take me a day or so to reach the portal on foot in this condition and then more time to the castle. I hope it’s not too late by then.” He already started to formulate a plan. There were only two ways to the castle; over the bridge or repelling down the mountainside the castle was built into, which meant there was only one viable way.
“See reason. You need rest.”
With a vicious glare, Thane turned. “I’ve rested for weeks while the love of my life has been starved and who knows what else was done to her! I will rest no longer.”
Vesstan waited for a few beats before he said gently, “Thane, this is the first day you’ve been able to walk out of this cottage. You’ve never had to spend more than a day or two to heal and recover, but you won’t make it to the portal in your condition.”
“Yes. I. Will.” With determination he could accomplish anything. He believed it was possible and so it was. It’s how he’d done every difficult thing in the past. He shoved a change of clothes into the bag and a cloak. Before long, his weapons belt was on, his swords strapped to his back, and he was ready to walk out the door.
Vesstan lifted his chin and picked up his staff. “I’ll be coming with you then.”
Hardening his jaw, Thane stared at Vesstan. The old mage managed to get around this small meadow fine but undertaking this mission was beyond him, and in this condition, Thane wouldn’t be able to help. “Can you make it?”
“Oh, I’m not as weak as you perceive me to be.”
Tif stood on the kitchen table, squealing loudly, and pointed out the window. “Elves! Two elves are coming! No, three!”
Thane and Vesstan exchanged a quick glance. Great. Now they would have to answer to the woodland elves and hope he wasn’t recognized. Unless… Thane moved toward the window. “Who knows I’m here?”
“Only Leif and Evalyn. However, correspondence could have been intercepted.”
Pulling the white curtain aside, Thane peeked out. It was two males adorned in russet brown cloaks with hoods up. They wore dark green tunics with leather arm bands over their wrists, black gloves, and charcoal-colored pants. Both were adorned with several weapons, swords, daggers. The one on the left had a small ax on his hip. A slighter figure, likely a female, wore a chocolate brown cloak and walked between them. He couldn’t tell from the distance if they were friendly or foe.
