Light knelt to its level, meeting its eyes as he said, “Take them to the village, to the inn. The innkeeper will know what to do with them.” Standing, he looked to the male Humans, saying, “You may go. We’re done for the day. You can clean up before the gathering tonight.”
Faith went to drop her bow and go with them, but he quickly and smoothly stepped in front of her, blocking her escape as the rest obediently went with the tail-wagging hyll. “Move, dude. I’ve had enough of you today.”
“As I have had of you, for a lifetime,” Light said. “But you are not finished. You must string your bow and fire at least one shot before I’ll let you off.”
“If this is some ploy to get me alone, let me say that—”
He laughed as he retrieved the bow she dropped. “I know what you’re implying, and let me confess that never have I ever desired to be alone with a Human, let alone one that smells like you.”
Faith stepped back, hastily snatching the bow from him. “Okay, ouch. That one kind of hurt.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” Light sighed, sitting on a nearby rock. It was a bit small for him; his knees were bunched up. He set a hand on his knee and the other on his chin as he watched her form.
It was unimpressive. Exactly how he pictured a Human female attempting to do a male’s job. Light knew that in the Human world, men and women were mostly equal. In Alyna, it was mostly true among the more civilized villages. But, still, Light firmly believed that there were just some things that a man was easier able to do than a woman.
Things that involved sheer strength, for example.
“Does the funny one need help?” Light offered mockingly. The skies above grew dim, its blue color mixed with the pinks and oranges of an upcoming sunset. At night, the forest around the Springsweet was not a fun place. In the dark, all manner of beasts and insects came out.
She shot him a glare. “Don’t make fun of me.”
As if Light would listen to that. In one, smooth motion, he leapt on his feet and grabbed onto the bow, which the girl would not let go of. “I would release it, if I were you,” he advised. If left to her own devices completely, they’d be here all night.
“No, you let it go, you knife-ear,” she hurled a Human slang word at him, causing his coolness to evaporate.
Annoyance replaced it, and he swiftly yanked the bow out of her hands, causing her to stumble forward, nearly ramming herself into him. She managed to catch herself right before that, luckily.
Light leaned his head down as far as it would go, bending his top half down to meet her short and puny frame. “Don’t call me a knife-ear,” he hissed.
She wasn’t backing down. “Or what, knife-ear?”
He couldn’t physically harm any Human that strolled through that gateway, even if he wanted to, without severe repercussions from the Court. So instead, he put all in anger and energy into stringing her bow, nocking an arrow, pulling the string back, and letting it loose. All within five seconds, and the arrow hit the farthest mark, directly in the makeshift head, which was so far from their station that none of the attempts the others had made reached it.
“Am I supposed to be impressed?” She wasn’t fazed.
Light stormed to the target, yanking out the arrow. “Let me be clear,” he spoke as he made his way back to her, “I don’t like Humans. I’m being forced to do this, and this is my last stint before I return to what I was doing before. If you screw this up for me…the results won’t be pretty.”
Faith laughed. “What’re you going to do? Beat me up?”
“No, but your teacher will hear about your behavior, and I’ll be sure to notify your Director or Principal or President—whoever it takes—to make sure you never get the station you want.” It wasn’t a direct threat, but it was close enough to hit the mark.
“Well,” she said after a minute of silence. “Aren’t you just a regular old Prince Charming?” She cocked her head, thinking. In the dimming light, with those eyes and that expression, she looked like a calculating Fae, a damned trickster, always spitting lies in the form of truths.
When she said nothing more—just watched him with those eyes—Light said again, “Don’t call me knife-ear.”
“I won’t call you knife-ear,” Faith said, “as long as you’re nice to me.”
Nice? She wanted him to be nice to her? That wouldn’t happen. He’d rather get called knife-ear.
Faith stretched, wrinkling her nose, the small metal dot in it twinkling. “Now, don’t we have a gathering to get to?” She gave him a full smile, her lips seemingly far too large to her face. Elven, typically, had thin lips, long limbs, tall, straight figures—quite the opposite of her. Short, wide hips that were characteristic of a species that aged rapidly and needed to procreate more, a larger chest to take care of the babes once they were born. Lips that seemed to constantly be in some kind of curve, whether it upwards or downwards…
Light supposed, though he did not want to admit it, that she might be considered pretty among her fellow Humans.
But he did not see the appeal.
“Wait,” Light spoke after her, “you didn’t make a shot yet!”
Chapter Six
The gathering was already in full blast by the time Faith and her precious, oh-so-serious tutor arrived. She loved him. He was such a good fellow, a good man. Handsome and generous, fine and tall, the perfect male specimen that she just fell instantly head-over-heels for…
What was his name again?
Weylon Sunnytoes?
Oh, Weylon Sunnytoes, what a man he was. She wanted to take her hands, wrap them around his shoulders, bring him down to her low, smelly level and give him the hardest headbutt the poor, stupid knife-ear ever received. Faith wanted to take her tiny, grubby hands and put them around his neck, choke the living daylights out of him and watch as his oh-so-pretty eyes widened with the realization that maybe, just maybe he shouldn’t have been such an unforgiving ass to her.
Weylon Sunnytoes…how she hated him.
The gatherings were a nightly phenomenon while the Human Academy was in town. They were held in the castle’s courtyard, surrounded by ancient masonry and stonework, and ever-alert guards with spears as tall as they were standing near every entrance. A fire crackled and popped in the center, its flames licking the pinkish-orange sky until the night air was a pure blackness. No clouds, no stars, no moon.
The other fifth years were already done with their dinners. Most talked and laughed about their day, about their home life to the few inquisitive tutors. Nearly everyone had a drink in their hand; cups of crystallized glass, their contents a clear, warm liquid that was both like and unlike alcohol.
Once Faith and her tutor were safely in the large gathering circle, she waved him off, “See you later, Sunnytoes.” She skipped to Cara, who sat on a carved stone seat near the fire, oblivious to the annoyed expression on Sunnytoes’s face. “My day was awful. Please tell me yours was better?” Normally, she’d go straight to the food and drink, but for some reason Faith wasn’t all that hungry.
Odd. So unlike her in the biggest way.
Cara nearly dropped her glass as she hugged her friend. Huh. Was she just happy to see her, or were the Elven trying to get them drunk? Maybe the giddiness was because they were in the Second, and everything seemed so new and foreign. “I missed you! Oh, Faith, it was so fun. We’re learning all about ingredients, how to make potions and salves—I’m gobbling it all up. I really wish you were there too, though. Sucks that you got stuck with the hunting group.” She snuck a glance toward Faith’s tutor, who stood near the assortment of fruits and meat, talking to some of his co-tutors. “How was he?”
“You mean Sunnytoes?”
Her friend nearly died of laughter. “I think it’s Lightfoot—but you’re right, Sunnytoes is a lot better.”
Lightfoot? Was that why everyone was calling him Light during the day? Hmm. Suddenly, it made sense. Faith just shrugged it off, saying, “Whatever. The Elf’s kind of an asshole. I may
have called him a knife-ear.”
Cara inhaled, shocked. “You what? That’s not nice, Faith. That’s like calling Render a—” She was about to say the word, then thought better of it. “You shouldn’t say that. Especially while we’re in their world.”
Her friend, AKA the goodie-two-shoes.
“Yeah, yeah. So tell me more about your day. Mine was so boring—” Faith was about to tell her how her tutor was mean to her by dropping the bow onto her stomach, but the gathering fell quiet as a new presence arrived. Even their teacher, standing near the, for lack of a better term, punch bowl, had to adjust his glasses to get a better look at the Elven woman who the guards bowed to before letting in.
She had to be important. She was worlds more regal than her lessers. She seemed taller, more refined, elegant in her movements and her dress. She wore a beautiful, white gown that matched her skin tone, its train billowing behind her on the ground but never staining. The dress’s sleeves were long and skin-tight until the wrist, where they grew into a wide, loose openings, held to her arms with the help of fabric loops around her middle fingers. She wore a bejeweled circlet around her head atop her pale hair and an almost gaudy diamond-encrusted choker that Faith guessed must’ve weighed ten pounds on its own.
If beauty had a definition, she was it, even if the point on her ears was bigger than any she’d seen so far.
All at once, the Elven in the gathering area bowed. The women simply bent their heads while the men fell to a knee, even—Faith hated that she looked—Lightfoot Sunnytoes.
As confused and awe-struck fifth years started to do the same after an urging from their teacher, the regal Elf gestured for everyone to get up. Everyone stood; even Cara and Faith. “Rise. There needn’t be any formalities here. I simply came to enjoy the festivities, and get to know some of the Humans that have graced our world.” She gave a dazzling, flawless smile.
“Ophelia,” an Elven woman spoke, appearing beside Faith and Cara. “She is the youngest member of the Court.” Faith recognized her as the apothecary tutor—Shar…Sharleena? Shazam? Something like that. “It is odd that she should come tonight. Typically, the Court waits until the final day to mingle, so they can wash their hands of you.” She turned to Faith and Cara. “Of course, I am quite intrigued by your kind and your…sciences. Could you tell me more about this notion of surgery?”
Faith’s eyes widened. She took a step back, moving Cara closer to her tutor. “That’s this girl’s department. More of a book nerd, she is. I’m going to get some food.” Even though she wasn’t hungry, she could always stuff her face full.
Shazam gave her a quaint smile before turning her full attention to Cara, who already started telling her about hospitals and doctors and other boring, mundane things. As she gathered a plate, her teacher asked how things were going, and all she managed was a thumbs-up. Her mouth was already full with a bite of strange meat. Juicy and delicious, the flavor was different than any type of meat she had back on Earth.
She got herself some drink and was attempting to find a good, quiet place to eat where no inquisitive Elf would wander and start asking her weird questions, when her gaze traveled to the wall she was near. From the look of the gathering, judging from the space and the number of houses in the village, nearly half of the Elves who resided in the Springsweet were here.
The wall surrounding the gathering wasn’t too tall; five feet. Faith could climb over it no problem, but the guards would see. They stood ten feet away, eyeing her, eyeing everyone in the gathering.
Though she wanted to be alone, she heard someone say, “You best not be thinking about how to get over that wall.”
Swallowing the meat that was in her mouth, Faith looked at her tutor, giving him an innocent, yet unimpressed look. “I’d never. I’m a good girl, Sunnytoes. I’d never even think of doing something like that.”
“It’s Lightfoot,” he practically spat. “Just Light, to you.”
“All right, Just Light,” Faith corrected herself before taking a sip of her drink. The clear liquid fell down her throat easily. It wasn’t a fermented drink, it was something more, but so good.
“Just,” he repeated, putting emphasis on the space, “Light. Not Just Light. Just. Light.”
Faith couldn’t help but smile and whisper, “Careful, Light, I kind of like this thing we got going on. I might just fall madly in love with you.” She laughed as his face twisted in revulsion, and she gave him one last smile before returning to Cara’s side. Even though her friend was busy talking to the Shazam Elf, it was a better spot than with her tutor.
Light. What an arrogant ass. She didn’t like him, she decided as she bit into the meat chunk again. Not one bit.
She’d just taken another huge bite when a big, white gown blocked her view of the fire. “Sorry, could you move?” Faith asked before glancing up to see who it was. She hadn’t even had the chance to sit down and someone was already bugging her.
Really, she should’ve known. Only one Elf in the area wore a gown like that. A princess dress. Almost immediately, Faith expected the worst. Flayed alive. Chained and tortured for disrespecting one of the precious Elven, even if said Elf looked no older than twenty-five.
These Elves and their ridiculously long lifespans.
“I do not mean to bother you,” Ophelia spoke, hiding the fact that she was irked at Faith’s question rather well, though there was a slight tinge to her voice.
Around her, Elven and Human alike stared at her, and Faith wanted to smack herself. She didn’t need to instigate the Court of Elders. “Sorry, I didn’t realize who you were,” she tried explaining herself.
“No, I suppose you did not.” Ophelia held out her right hand, her fingers long and slender. She’d make the perfect hand model, with her wrinkle-less skin and curved, immaculately-shaped nails. Rings of diamonds hung on half of her fingers, some full rings hugging her knuckles and others sitting snugly before the fingers’ top joint. “May I?” she whispered.
Faith glanced to her crystal glass in one hand, and to the meaty bone in the other. Oh, well. If she was going to be the ass of the party, Sunnytoes notwithstanding, she’d go all out. She brought the meat to her mouth, bit into it and held it there, extending her hand to the Elder, meat juices and all.
Ophelia smiled, though it was a tiny one, and forced. The expression was one she did not wear well. “How charming.” Still, she reached for Faith’s hand, turning it over to study her palm. She traced the lines in them, seemingly mesmerized.
Lines were all they were. Faith didn’t believe in palm-reading or fortune tellers. Not of the Human variety, anyway. Since this was a super special Elf, perhaps she should take heed of what she was about to say.
Or maybe it was all stupid hogwash, in the words of her grandma.
She must’ve found something truly exciting between the wrinkles and the grease from the meat, for Ophelia’s other hand gripped her thumb, prying her palm flatter toward her. It was a while before she whispered, “You have a great destiny before you.” Her eyes, a deep, luscious blue, narrowed in on her. “A life full of love…and loss.”
A life full of love and loss, huh? Well, wasn’t that fortune teller mumbo-jumbo that could be said about literally everyone? Faith frowned, unimpressed.
Ophelia was slow in letting Faith’s hand go. “You,” she spoke, “have his eyes.”
Faith was quick to take the hunk of meat out of her mouth before asking, “Who’s?” She might’ve spit a bit of meat juice, but whatever.
The Elf had already walked away at a pace brisker than Faith would’ve guessed possible in that dress, with that train. Whose eyes? Her father’s? Had he come here, to the Second, during his own time at the Academy? Had Ophelia met him? Or…was it all just a ploy to get in her head, to make her wistful or something?
Cara was too busy talking to Shazam to come up to her. Her other classmates weren’t friendly enough with her, or her to them, for Faith to wander and find a group and join their conversation. She di
dn’t want to. She just wanted to find out what Ophelia meant, see what Cara thought of it all.
She’d get no answers tonight, nor would she get any more enjoyment from the food or the gathering.
Her foul mood followed her, trailed her much like Ophelia’s gown had, throughout the next day. Faith found no fun in shooting arrows, even after Light helped her string her bow. She might’ve made a few shots, her average hit-to-miss ratio was better than the boys’, but she was elsewhere, mind wandering, wondering. She didn’t even relish in picking on her tutor, calling him Sunnytoes or whatever else she thought of.
She wanted to know what Ophelia meant by his eyes.
Faith had never been one to question her mother, especially when it came to matters involving her father. As far as Faith knew, he was dead. Died before she was born, before Penelope even knew she was pregnant. But…what if that wasn’t the case? What if he was alive?
What if she was some kind of long-lost princess? Faith shivered at the thought. She wasn’t a princess, and she definitely didn’t want to be. Special she was not. A rule-breaker, yes. Snarky, sometimes, if the situation called for it. And it usually did. But a princess? No, she was no princess.
If her father had been anything or anyone out of the ordinary, Faith was certain Penelope would’ve told her. That, or Christine would’ve. Her grandma couldn’t keep her mouth shut about some things.
So, through the day, Faith thought up a plan. It was something she probably shouldn’t do, but she was going to try it anyways. Acting up, or out, or getting into so-called trouble, was something she did rather well, especially when she was internally freaking out. She’d escape the gathering, take a long, leisurely walk around the castle grounds and find Ophelia, wherever she might be, and demand her to explain just what she meant by it.
The Harbinger Page 4
