Elijah's Quest (Finding Magic Book 4)

by Blair Drake

  He grinned, and then carefully put the sword back on her desk. Clapping his hands to his chest, he pretended to take an arrow. "You doubt me, Zo?"

  "I have good reason," she muttered. "Evidence recalls the time you sat on my quiver and crushed it—"

  "I didn't see it," he protested. "And it wasn't... crushed. Just a bit smooshed."

  "By your fat ass. And then there's the time you tore my breastplate."

  "Aren't female barbarians supposed to wear chainmail bikinis?" He knew the answer to that, but it was far too easy to earn a sharp look from her. Zoe opened her mouth, clearly saw he was toying with her, and clamped her lips shut. Elijah grinned unrepentantly. "I was helping. And it wasn't like I meant to rip your faux chainmail, but you were kissing me, and my hand got caught, and—"

  "Seriously." She put the glue gun down and shifted a piece of leather a fraction. "Stop while you're ahead, Eli."

  "Am I ahead, am I?"

  "Stop while you're not too far behind."

  With a sigh, he collapsed back onto her bed, making the springs creak. He was so not supposed to be in her room, but... eh. "How long are you going to be working on that?"

  Zoe smoothed her thumb along the edge of leather, eyeing it critically. "Legends of Orynthica is in five weeks. So how many hours between now and then?"

  "It's Friday night, Zo. Want to sneak out? Go see a movie?"

  Nothing. Just the smell of hot glue.

  "I will even submit to that new Lancelot movie that's just been released. Knights. Armor. Chicks in medieval dresses. Think of all the gauntlets and greaves."

  "Greaves?"

  "I do pay attention. I think you're osmosis-ing me." He snickered. "Actually that sounds kind of interesting."

  "Oh, my God," she groaned. "That is not even a word. And not the right context."

  He rolled his head to look at her. "It has Ryder Malone in it. That guy who was your screensaver for about three months.... Zo?"

  Come on. Pretty please.

  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. "I have to get this set, Eli. Then I've got chemistry homework, and that paper on Of Mice And Men, and I haven't even started my shield. My guild has been hassling me. We've got challenges to complete before we even hit Legendsfest, and I haven't even started on my character sheet or the code breaking."

  Always driven. It was one of the things he'd first liked about her. "You need some downtime, Zo. It will clear your head. Come on. Two hours. Tops. Then I'll help you with the code breaking while you work on your paper." At least code breaking sounded fun. He waggled his eyebrows up and down. "We could make out in the back of the theatre?"

  "Pass," she muttered.

  Ugh. He collapsed back onto her pillow. It was the closest he'd gotten to her in weeks.

  "Seriously, what's wrong with you?" Rolling over onto his stomach, Elijah slumped on his forearms. "You never want to do anything with me anymore."

  Zoe finally put the glue gun aside. She took a deep breath and his stomach tensed. His mom had worn that look when she sat him down and told him she and his dad were getting a divorce.

  "Do you not want to be with me anymore?" he asked quickly, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and sitting up abruptly.

  "No! I—"

  Thank god. "Then what is it? You never want to spend time with me anymore. You're always busy. I know you've got plans once we graduate, that you want to get into costume design or set design, but.... I feel like we hardly spend any time together anymore. And school production is only a month away, which means I'll see you even less."

  "It's a good opportunity," she protested.

  "Yeah. I know." His tone was curt. "Keep the GPA up, hammer home that extra credit, apply for college, lock in Comic Con." His gaze shifted to her Vision board, with all its inspirational memes and photos. There wasn't a single photo of him up there with her. "I get it Zo. It's a hard field to break into and you want to give it your best shot. I'm just wondering where I fit."

  Or even if I do fit....

  She crossed her legs into some sort of lotus position. Curse her Zen expression. "Eli." A hesitation. "It's not that you don't fit." Zoe looked down into her clasped hands. "Maybe it's that I don't?"

  "What the hell does that even mean? I make room in my life for you all the time. I'm always the one who rings. Who texts. Who pushes to make plans. And maybe I forgot your birthday last year, but that was one time, and it is not going to happen again."

  He'd made sure of that. He had that sucker penciled into every schedule and app he owned. His iPhone was set on alert.

  Zoe looked up slowly, eyes hesitant beneath the fan of her dark lashes. There was a sequin stuck to her jaw but he was fairly certain she wasn't aware of it. "You're on the hockey team," she said slowly. "You get invites to parties all the time. I see them on Facebook. You breeze through school as if you're the king of the jungle—"

  "I am the king of the jungle." He grinned.

  She seemed to catch her breath. "But I'm not."

  "That's what I like about you." Elijah went to his knees on the floor in front of her, careful not to kneel on any of her tools or scissors. Who knew that sewing scissors were never to be used on paper? He'd done that one time. One time. "You're not like the other girls. You're my hot, sexy tutor."

  "Well, your grades are up," she said dryly. "It's not like you need me anymore."

  He knelt forward on his palms. A pretty flush was starting to decorate her cheeks. "You want me to start failing history again? Because I totally can. You're the one who makes it interesting, Zo. You're smart. You're funny. You make me laugh. You bring me down to earth when my head starts getting too big." He swallowed a little. "And you were there for me last year, throughout all the stuff with mom and dad."

  Her eyes softened, as if she was starting to believe him.

  "Come on, Zo-Zo." Elijah kissed her on the tip of her nose. "You know you can tell me anything. If there's anything else that's bugging you, just say it. I spilled my guts about dad and his new girlfriend."

  "Nothing's... wrong." Color crept up her throat.

  His gaze zeroed in on the flush. "I'm calling foul."

  "Steph Larsson's pretty keen on you," she blurted.

  Steph Larsson? What the hell did that have to do with anything? "Yeah. She's not exactly subtle." Elijah reared back suddenly, feeling like she'd throat-punched him. "You don't think I—?"

  "No!" Zoe bit her lip.

  "Good," he said flatly. "Because I'm not that kind of guy." Not like Dad. An aching knot of hurt twisted inside him. "I might not be the best boyfriend in the world. But after what Dad did to Mom, I would never.... You know I would never."

  "I know you wouldn't. But Steph's made it pretty clear she thinks you would." Raking her hands through her hair, Zoe stared down at the floor. "And maybe.... She has more in common with you than I do. She's a cheerleader. Popular. Gorgeous. I just.... Sometimes I wonder about us. I'm this great big nerd and you—"

  "You're my nerd."

  "We're going to be at different colleges next year."

  "Yet to be determined," he pointed out. "Are you trying to throw up every potential red flag you can? What's got you worried about us?"

  Her voice softened to a whisper. "You and I haven't... you know."

  He planted his hands on either side of her hips. "I know. There's no rush." When Zoe looked up sharply, he pressed a finger to her lips. "No rush."

  "And if I said yes right now, you wouldn't be all in?" she asked dubiously.

  Really, really tempting. Elijah squeezed his eyes shut. "Zo, I'm into you. I've been into you the second you walked into the library last year and slammed those text books down on the table and said you didn't have time to tutor me, but since you owed Reese a favor you'd help me out. I'm still going to be into you next year when we go away to college. No matter where we go. I like you. A lot. I'm happy to wait until you're ready to go further." He knew she'd been teased a lot in junior high, and s
till grew a little nervous about her body—which was smoking hot, though she could never see it. "You were there for me when I needed you. You're my Zo-Zo. I'll wait forever if I need to."

  "Even if the Steph Larsson's of the world are waiting there in the wings, hoping to snatch you up?"

  "Steph Who?" He proclaimed, grinning as he leaned forward to brush his mouth against hers.

  Zoe kissed him back, reaching up to twine her arms around the back of his neck. Her mouth softened, and Elijah's heart skipped a beat. When she kissed him like this, it felt like there was nowhere else in the world he'd rather be. Zoe didn't know it yet, but she was his rock. The only reason he'd managed to haul his grades out of the gutter after last year's epic flameout was because she'd been there for him every step of the way. When his dad ran off with the secretary, she'd let him curl his arms around her and hold her while he tried not to let his world fall apart. She'd never judged him, or told a soul any of the things he'd whispered to her.

  He loved her. Really loved her.

  This was all he wanted—to feel like he belonged in her life too.

  Elijah drew back, cupping her face in both hands. Zoe was smart and driven and going places. And all he really had was hockey and the ability to pretend to be confident in any situation.

  "Movie," he suggested again, seeing her eyes soften. "I'll buy you popcorn, and you can pick apart all the historical inaccuracies in the costumes, while I pretend to be as interested in the movie as I am in you. Then I'll crack your code while you sniff glue and sew leather to your heart's content. Deal?"

  "Deal," she said, with a smile.

  Chapter 5

  Elijah groaned as he cracked open an eye. Everything hurt. Most notably his forehead. But Zoe stared down at him, and he realized she'd thumbed back his eyelid and was peering intently at him. Dark curls formed a halo around her face, and the smattering of freckles across her tanned skin was highlighted by some bizarre blue makeup, but whatever.

  He was so glad to see her.

  "Zo," he whispered, trying to reach up and brush a dark curl off her face. "Thank God. I was seriously having the worst dream—"

  Zoe snatched at his wrist, and her lips thinned as she looked over her shoulder at someone else. "Who told him my name?"

  Elijah's stomach dropped. Her accent was as thick and heavy as the two hunters he'd encountered.

  "I told you he's a mage," muttered a familiar voice. "He probably picked the thought right out of one of our heads."

  Elijah's head throbbed as events came rushing back to him. He rolled over on the hard mattress he was lying upon, and nearly fell off it. Ice trolls. Yeorfac and Zandui. The monastery.

  Not a dream.

  Then who the hell was—?

  "Zoe?" he asked, in confusion.

  She'd been sucked into this strange place too?

  The woman shot him a hard glare that raked him from head to toe. Elijah froze. It looked like Zoe, or at least it looked like a Zoe who'd been benching around one-eighty pounds, had long tangled curls threaded with narrow braids and a slashing claw mark of blue paint that started on her forehead, cut off at her eyebrow, and then began again just beneath her eye. Someone had gone heavy on the kohl.

  "Is this some sort of Braveheart re-enactment?" he asked weakly. "Extra credit for design school?"

  She was wearing a fur-edged cloak and chainmail. It was not the sort of chainmail that belonged on the front of some of the old '90's fantasy novels Zoe read. Alas. This looked like it weighed half a ton, and was ready to do some serious sword-stopping.

  Chainmail Zoe put a boot to his chest and slammed him back onto the mattress. Her hand went to the hilt of her sword, "My name is Zora, Mage. How do you know of me?"

  Zora. The word sliced through him sharply. It was one of Zoe's characters. She often babbled about her LARP world, and while he hadn't paid that much attention to every little detail, he was like 90% certain one of her main alter egos was called Zora.

  This was getting a little weird.

  Like the rest of this entire saga hasn't been weird? Dude, you battled a freaking troll.

  "You trying to tell me you're not famous?" he joked.

  The weight of her boot pressed harder. Okay. Chainmail Zoe didn't quite have the same sense of humor as her counterpart. And he kept thinking someone was going to cue him in on the joke sometime soon, but the hilt gave a steely rasp as Zora withdrew it a threatening half-inch.

  One of her eyebrows quirked, and he could practically hear her thinking, "Go ahead, Mage. Make my day."

  Or maybe that was the movie buff in him.

  "I don't know who you are. You look exactly like someone I know," he gasped, both hands locked around her boot to try and ease the weight off his chest. Zoe was tall, and leanly buff, but he had the feeling this Zoe could bench-press him if she cared to. "My girlfriend. My ex-girlfriend."

  Had he somehow called her into life in this world? It turned out he had magic. And his last thoughts before he blacked out had been about Zoe, about trying to get back to her at any cost.

  "This Zoe," the woman grunted, easing back enough for him to breathe. "Your friend. She is a warrior?"

  "Yeah, she kicks my ass on a regular basis." He'd jokingly called Zoe the drill sergeant a time or two, especially at the start, when she'd been tutoring him and trying to ignore his friendly overtures. "Not physically," he pointed out, seeing Zora's eyebrow lift higher. "She doesn't need to. I'd do anything she wanted me to."

  Except for that one thing that had cost him everything. He felt like slapping his own face in hindsight. Dumbass. "But she's a warrior at heart. She can take on anything the world throws at her."

  "And you slayed a troll," Zora said, her lip curling up. "You?"

  "I drowned it. I think."

  "Are you a spy? What are you doing here in Orynthica?"

  Orynthica? Hold up. He knew that name.

  "Claims he's not a spy," Yeorfac grumbled, from where he leaned against the barred door to... Yep. Elijah got his bearings for the first time. He was definitely in some sort of cell.

  "I am not a spy. I am not a mage. I'm not the enemy," he snapped. "I don't know why I'm here. I don't know where here is. I just want to go home."

  "He looks Pasternackian to me," Zora sniffed.

  "Oh great," Elijah said, rolling his eyes. "You're a friend of Yeorfac's."

  "He thinks he's from another world," said a mild voice behind her. "He called it Earth."

  Zora shot Zandui a sharp look. She eased off Elijah completely and turned to pace the cell. "Earth?" she whispered to Zandui. "Are you certain he said 'Earth'. Have you informed the Keeper?"

  "Not yet." Zandui stroked his beard. "The monks claim the Well of Silence has gone dry. I haven't been able to."

  Another sharp, almost-incredulous look from her. "The Well is dry?"

  "Apparently." Zandui squatted down so he was almost on eye level with Elijah, the neat brown robes he was wearing parting to reveal the leather leggings he wore beneath it. "You came through a portal to this world, you claim."

  "I don't know," Elijah said, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot he was on, before pausing. The world swayed a little. There was a sharp ache in the middle of his forehead. When he gently probed it, his fingers came away flecked with matted blood.

  It was all coming back to him.

  "You hit your head, Elijor," Zandui said, as if Yeorfac hadn't helped even a teensy little bit. "And then you fainted after you vanquished the trull hyggen. The monks wish to thank you for saving the monastery, but you understand our caution, yes?" He hesitated. "You claim you are not a mage, but I saw the ice part at your touch, and the wind blow up around you. Something stopped that club from crushing you. The only explanation I have is magic."

  And if you were lying about that, then what else were you lying about? said Zandui's dark eyes.

  "I'm not a mage," he said stiffly. "I've never been able to control ice before, or hear that weird vibrating sound that seems to
be everywhere in this world. Okay, there was this one time back home where I thought I could hear that whisper before, but nothing came of it. Maybe being in this world has exposed abilities I never knew I had."

  He frowned. Maybe it wasn't being in this world, but being in a world where he knew magic existed, and hence could believe he could wield it.

  "He can hear the Current," Zora said under her breath.

  "We're in a small echoing cell," Elijah growled, "I can also hear everything you're saying. What is the Current?"

  Three faces stared at him implacably.

  "You see why we need to take him to the Keeper?" Zandui said, turning to Zora. "The princess can wait. The Ascension can wait. This is why we called you here."

  Elijah staggered through the snow, his hands bound before him. "Don't mind me. I just saved you guys from an enormous troll. Some gratitude."

  Zora swayed in the saddle as her horse slogged through the snow in front of him, the rope binding his hands stretching to her pommel. He had the feeling if he fell, she'd simply keep going.

  "It will take three days to reach the Keeper," she'd hissed at Zandui in the cell. "We don't have that time. I need to present myself to the princess and vie for my place as one of the champions of Thanasi. The Ascension is barely days away."

  "I think this is important," Zandui had replied slowly, his eyes never leaving Elijah's face. "And if we cannot speak to the Keeper through the Well of Silence, then we need to travel to the Black Keep."

  Hence the current arrangement.

  "I understand why I'm slogging along on foot, but why don't the pair of you get horses?" he asked Zandui, who potentially seemed the kindest of his new 'allies'. "Those monks had mules in the stables."

  "They are Ice Fang," Zora called, as if that explained everything.

  "Hey, I've got an idea," Elijah shot back. "How about we pretend the new guy hasn't got a clue what's going on? Why don't we explain what all of this means to him?"

  "You have an impertinent tongue," she replied, and tugged the rope.