She laughed, and for a moment she was carefree. For a few minutes, she didn’t think about her missing classmates, nor about the Harbinger business. Right then, Faith felt alive, more alive than when she went on an unsanctioned hunt, and definitely more alive than she did when she got her Victi. This was how she felt when she spent the weekends with Cara, or when she stayed up all night with her grandmother and binged Jane the Virgin on Netflix.
Except better. Way better. Like, no comparison better.
“You are so mean, Light,” Faith whined as he wrestled her down. She did her best to escape, but the hunter was good. He had her. “So mean,” she repeated in a bare whisper once he had her arms held back. No more playful smacking for her. And then, both suddenly and achingly slow, things turned serious. “You…you can get off me now.” But the Elf didn’t move, didn’t release her arms, which he held on either side of her head. With each squirm of her body, she was reminded of last night, of this morning. Her cheeks burned.
Yep. She was turning into Cara.
His blue-eyed stare was so intense, she had to turn her head and focus on her boots and socks. This Elf knew exactly how to drive her nuts, didn’t he? She gave up the futile attempt at squirming. She wouldn’t escape this until he let her go. And she was supposed to be the Harbinger? What a laugh.
“What game do you play?”
His question stunned her, so she looked back at him, finding his eyes were even closer now. “What?” Last night, it was different. It was dark. She could hardly see, plus it was her idea to get him back for making her feel stupid. This was completely different. This was real.
“Why must you do this to me?” he asked again, his voice low in a way Faith could only describe as husky. Romance-novel husky. Though he spoke it not too long ago, this time it felt like more than just a simple question.
Faith didn’t have an answer.
His nose touched her ear as he muttered, “Why don’t you smell? You’re supposed to smell like rotten hyll droppings.” As opposed to the peachy-fresh droppings? Her sarcastic quip was ready, but he silenced her by saying, “I barely know you, yet I feel like you belong here.” He withdrew his nose from her ear, a look of truth, of confusion crossing his features. “With me.”
All this because she called him Sunnytoes? No. No, it couldn’t be because deep down, somewhere in the unexplainable parts of her body, Faith felt it too.
She liked Light and, even though he fought it, he liked her.
Crap. Her mother wasn’t going to be happy. Neither was her grandma.
“Ever since I met you, you’ve been nothing but a problem, a pain—but, I suppose, I always have been a glutton for punishment.” Light brought his face down to hers, lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Tell me that I’m wrong. Tell me to stop.”
Faith couldn’t because he wasn’t wrong, and she did not want him to stop.
And then, before she knew it was happening, Light kissed her. Soft and gentle yet passionate and hungry. He was an expert. Faith didn’t know kissing could feel like this; she didn’t know she could feel so tingly everywhere. It was bliss, it was amazing. She never wanted him to stop, though she would like the use of her arms, to wrap them around his neck like she had last night, to gently tug at his hair.
Just as he softly nipped at her bottom lip, right when she let out a soft moan, a cough echoed through the garden. Above her, Light’s eyes flew open, and he quickly pulled away from her once he saw that a guard stood not ten feet from them, sneering at them with a frown so unbecoming of a man of such a pretty race.
Oh, shit.
Light was on his feet in the next instant, attempting to explain what the guard had seen, “She went into the wren pond, and I…”
She stood next to him, doing her best to act like they weren’t getting hot and heavy where anyone could stumble across them. It was a stupid mistake, and she hoped Light wouldn’t get in trouble for it. Faith said, “I tripped. Breathed in a lot of water. He had to give me mouth-to-mouth.” Did Elves even know what that was? She’d soon find out.
The guardsman’s grey eyes studied her, a mask of sneering disapproval. “Your hair is dry.”
Oh, double shit.
Faith forced a smile. “You mean you don’t know that Human hair dries instantly?” Okay, that sounded like a bald-faced lie, especially coming from her. She and Light exchanged a quick glance.
The guard sighed. “I don’t care what disgusting things you two do—as long as it’s behind closed doors and the Court never gets wind of it.” When neither Light nor Faith responded, he said, “Trust me, I want to wipe that sight from my mind, and I don’t intend to be the bearer of more bad news.”
Right. Because the Court had to report to the I.D. if an Elf participated in any naked activity with a Human student. Even though the Academy students were already considered adults on Earth, it was still against the rules. Faith was just too good at breaking them, though there was no possible way that she was the first to ever make out with an Elf. No way. Not with how pretty they all were.
With a snicker, the guard said, speaking to Light, “I do find it funny, somewhat ironic, if you will, that I should find you of all Elven embracing a Human.” He shifted in his glittering, gleaming armor, his spear in his right hand, point towards the blue sky.
Light’s fists clenched. “It’s not funny.”
“It is,” the other Elf assured him. “Though I should have realized something was off when you were so frantic when you realized she was not in the group that met us in the forest outside of Ironfey.”
Light glanced toward Faith, probably hoping she hadn’t heard that, but she did. Oh, she did. So he was worried about her, huh? Faith smiled at the ground, doing her best not to make the situation worse. It made her feel good to know that he was worried about her. The only person who ever truly worried about her was Cara—and that girl worried about everything. Her mother and grandma, they cared about her but they didn’t worry. They knew Faith was capable, though that might change once they found out she was the Harbinger.
“Enough,” Light growled out. “Why are you here?”
“Ophelia wishes to dine with the Human—”
She was about to interject when Light spoke exactly what she was going to: “Her name is Faith.”
“Unlike you, Light,” the guard sniggered, “I don’t care about her.”
He would once he knew that she was the Harbinger. Faith almost said it, but she decided not to, because she still wasn’t sure about the whole thing. She didn’t even understand what the Harbinger was. A Human meant to fight the Dread King? Was that all?
“I am to take the Human to the dining hall,” the guard said, looking at Light like he had caught something by kissing her. “And you…perhaps you should go bathe. You are starting to smell like them.”
Beside her, Light tensed. Faith felt bad, and she wondered if he was now regretting his actions. He probably wished he had never kissed her. She didn’t know whether the Elven gossiped, but if they were anything like Humans, the story of Light lip-locked with a Human would travel fast. She hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble.
Ignoring the pang of sorrow she felt when she glanced at Light’s face, she said, “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I could use some food, actually.” When was the last time she ate? Yesterday? Earlier than that? With all the excitement, she didn’t have time to be hungry. She moved beside the guard, giving Light the easy job. All he had to do was watch her leave.
That wasn’t so hard, was it?
Chapter Fifteen
The castle was a confusing place. If Faith’s original plan of leaving the gathering and exploring the castle had worked, she surely would’ve gotten lost. So many winding corridors, all looking the same. Bright and illuminated, everything a white or a light grey. So clean. As they walked along, she wondered if it was kept clean by magic, or if there were Elves whose main responsibility was upkeep.
The sounds of their feet echoing in the empty halls were the only
things Faith heard until the grey-eyed guard muttered, “I do wonder why the Court is making such a fuss about you.” While walking, he studied her through side-glances. “You do not seem remarkable in any way.”
Faith smiled. “I’m not.” It was true. Her illegal Victi did not make her remarkable. Just a rule-breaker with connections. She didn’t think herself special.
“There must be something about you, for the Court would never deem it necessary to entertain a Human girl.”
Okay, she was getting really tired of being called a girl and a child. “I am a legal adult on Earth, just so you know,” Faith said with a huff. The bottoms of her pant legs were wet, and even though her boots were under them, there were still five or six inches of wet clothing that stuck to her legs. Nothing was more uncomfortable than walking around in wet clothes, except maybe being caught while making out.
“Something only a child would deem important to say.” His grey eyes lingered on her as they halted before a set of crystal white doors. “A woman would simply prove herself.”
Faith did not know what that was supposed to mean, so she did not say anything in return. The guard gave her a shrug before opening the door for her. The dining hall was the very opposite of what the two words meant on Earth. It was not a cafeteria type of room, nor was it a hall with rows of tables. It was a small quaint room, with only one table in its center.
She slowly stepped in, gazing steadily at the plant life intertwined with the walls. The room had no ceiling. The blue sky above it was real, unlike the room where the three thrones were. Flowers blossomed, waves of color, their hues growing deeper as Faith walked by, heading to the table where the Elf sat, waiting.
Ophennia? Octopus? Something starting with an O.
“Have a seat,” she said, waving a well-manicured hand to the chair opposite her. The table itself had a white cloth draped over it, half a dozen plates of fruit situated atop it, along with one that was full of Faith’s favorite thing: meat. A goblet sat before the Elf, and another where Faith was to sit. It was the size of a normal dining table back on Earth. Not nearly as extravagant as she expected, food notwithstanding. “We have much to discuss.”
“We do,” Faith agreed, slipping into the chair, never taking her eyes off the Elf. “I’m terrible with names, but I think yours was Oppa?” Okay, she knew it wasn’t close to that, but sometimes she said things without thinking.
The Elf strained a smile. “Ophelia.”
Since she said nothing else, Faith started, “And I’m—”
Ophelia nodded. “I remember your name, and I know who you are. I know all that you are.” She shifted in her regal chair, the jewels on her chest clinking with the movement. Her fingers were covered in diamonds, her tight ivory dress tight in ways that pronounced the differences between Human and Elven women.
She wasn’t wearing that dress before, was she? Faith wondered. Her stomach growled.
“Fill your plate. Eat.” Ophelia’s plate had a scarce helping of each fruit, along with a single slice of whatever meat sat in the table’s center. Her blue gaze never wavered from Faith as she chose her food. After a minute, and after Faith stuffed her mouth as full as she could with whatever the red, oblong fruit was, she said, “Quite the appetite you have.”
It was a while until Faith swallowed. “I haven’t eaten in forever. Plus, you know—” She gestured to Ophelia’s lithe form. “—we aren’t shaped like you.”
“Yes,” Ophelia spoke, “with all that weight on you, you must eat more to sustain yourself.”
She nearly choked on the next piece of fruit. What would these Elves do if they saw an obese Human? Probably crap themselves. Really, if she was viewed as overweight in the eyes of the Elves, it wasn’t any wonder why the grey-eyed guard was so disgusted at seeing her and Light together. Light himself felt the same, he told her that much.
“What did you mean by his eyes?” Faith spoke what was on the forefront of her mind. When the Elf said nothing, she clarified, “At the gathering, you said I have his eyes.”
Ophelia smiled. “I don’t recall, but I can imagine that deep down I knew. That your eyes hold a fire, just like the last Harbinger, and all the Harbingers before him.” That was all she would say on the matter, and it wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t nearly enough. Faith kept any annoyed retorts to herself, trying to be respectful and all that. It was hard work.
Silence ticked by, stifling the air until one of them broke it. “Tell me,” Ophelia said, interlacing her fingers. “Do you have any experience in battle?”
“The Academy trains field agents in advanced weapons and field tactics in year six and seven.” Faith only had hand-to-hand combat under her belt.
“And you are?”
Faith coughed, reaching for the goblet that she prayed wasn’t full of wine. “I’m in my fifth year.” She took a swig. Yep, definitely some type of alcohol, if the strong, tawny taste traveling down her throat was any indication. After setting the goblet down and doing her best not to let the disgust show, she said, “But I know the basics. And I have two Victi.”
Ophelia cocked her head, her long, light hair falling off her shoulder. “You do? But you are so young to have Victi.”
Rubbing her wrist, Faith was hesitant to pull down her sleeves. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost the two thick leather bracelets that normally kept them covered. The two daggers on her wrists made the Elf’s eyes widen.
“And so you do. At least they will help you in your quest to destroy the Dread King.”
Hands back on her lap, she bit her lip. “And what if I tell you that I don’t want to?” In case the option comes up. A quest sounded like an awful lot of work, and a lot of danger. Not to mention, the Dread King. What kind of name was that? He was probably ten times more terrifying than his statue was, not to mention ten times more infuriating. With a sigh, Faith said, “No. I know I have to do it.” She laughed. “I never had this sense of duty before.”
“Being here has awoken you.” Ophelia asked, “Have you experienced memories that are not yours? Visions of the past that you were not present for?”
Images of the bloody battlefield, the dark voice that spoke to her, and the odd feeling of familiarity when she first walked into the castle, a woman’s fluttery voice dripping through her head; Faith remembered it all, but she found herself shaking her head slightly. “No.”
Why did she feel like she had to lie? Maybe there was still a small part of her that wanted this all to be a mistake, that she wasn’t the Harbinger. Fighting the Dread King was someone else’s duty. She wasn’t ready for war.
Ophelia seemed disappointed, but she did not look as though she suspected Faith of lying. “We have sent scouts. They will return with the Ageless Blade. That should fully awaken you.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“I doubt it will come to that.”
“So you really think I’m the Harbinger? Even though I’m not a man?”
A small smile formed on Ophelia’s thin lips. “I think a woman is just what this prophecy needs. And with lines like yours,” she referred to the palm-reading that she conducted at the first gathering, “perhaps you will rise above the typical brawling and warring that two men share.” It was odd how she remembered that part of their conversation and not the his eyes part.
Faith froze as she held the knife to cut the meat on her plate. Suddenly there was a heaviness in Ophelia’s blue gaze, one that she didn’t like. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that the Dread King has always been a king, but he has never had a queen, nor children. Perhaps the timeless prophecy will finally end with your union, and this realm can move beyond such ancient tales.”
The hand holding onto the knife turned white as Ophelia explained herself, and Faith felt her skin growing red. Not with a blush, not like how she felt with Light. This was an angry, incensed rage that devoured her whole. She spoke dreadfully slow, “You want me to ignore all the Harbingers in the past, ignore everythi
ng they did and all the kingdoms that fell, to sleep with the Dread King?”
Ophelia chuckled. “More than sleep, Faith. Much more than sleep.”
“If I ever got him naked, assuming one of us isn’t already dead, I wouldn’t—the only thing I’d do is kill him.” Faith had to focus on releasing the knife, fearing that if she didn’t, she’d lunge at Ophelia for merely suggesting that.
“Such hatred. Without a doubt, you are the Harbinger. I do wish Frey would come around. Tomorrow he will, once we have the Blade.” She reached for her own goblet, pausing to ask, “I don’t suppose Tarnel told you?”
“Told me what?” Faith did her best to sound normal, but she was still mad about the whole suggestion of sleeping with the Dread King. It was a growled question. She didn’t even know who Tarnel was, and she didn’t care. Not one bit.
“The Court has written up a report, and at dawn we will send it over the gateway to your world, to your Academy.”
“So you’re not even going to pretend to look for them?” Faith was aghast, leaning back in her chair, having lost her appetite. “You’re just going to send us back?”
Ophelia spoke, “I never said anything about sending you back.”
Of course. Why would they, when she’s the freaking Harbinger?
“You will remain here. We will gather a fellowship, and together we will discuss the next steps to defeating the Dread King.”
“A fellowship?”
Ophelia explained, “An emissary from each kingdom, proving their allegiance to the Four Kingdoms Pact that was agreed upon by each ruler after the gateways to your world were opened permanently. If they do not send an emissary, their loyalties will be questioned. Even if they do, we must be on guard, for we do not know who wishes the Dread King to rise.”
“There were Dracon there,” Faith spoke, still upset about the whole letter to home thing. Everyone on Earth was going to freak about the missing students. And assuming the worst, they had every right to flip out. Those kids could be dead, slaves, or any number of things. How the Elves thought a letter or a report could help was beyond her. It would only make it worse, reveal to Humanity that they didn’t give a single shit.
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