“My master offers his personal carriage to see you to the other side of the city,” he explained as the U’lfer joined them, still slinging his heavy pack over his shoulder as he hopped down the last stair and stalked across the marble-tiled floors to join them.
“What’s on the other side off the city?” Finn asked, arriving to stand beside Lorelei.
“The catacombs,” he explained. “I will lead you through them and into the glen where your horses wait. It will take several hours to navigate the catacombs, but if we make haste, you should be able to endure a few hours travel before darkfall.”
The word catacombs set her teeth on edge, and though she didn’t say as much, the child seemed to feel her claustrophobic anxiety rise to the surface. As they made their way outdoors to the carriage, she confessed the catacombs beneath the palace temple in Rivenn were a haunted place she and her sister avoided as children playing reckless games of hide and seek in areas of the palace they weren’t permitted to endeavor.
“We needed no warning about the catacombs,” she shuddered. “The smell wafting from them was enough to deter us, and Mirien swore she heard the dead moaning from the place more than once.”
“We do not keep our dead in the catacombs,” Alanuuin assured her. “They are simply a means to the outside world and there is nothing to fear there. Occasionally large spiders make their home within, but beyond that…”
“Spiders?” Finn took a step back, his eyebrows warily pressing downward as he squinted.
“Large ones, yes,” the boy nodded. “Deep within the catacombs, but our scouts travel through frequently and they do not often trouble us. They are nothing to fear.”
“I’m not… How large?”
“Some large as men.”
Brendolowyn didn’t know why, but the gulping sound of the U’lfer’s unspoken horror brought him a sense of satisfaction he could never put into words. It was nice to know there was something the reckless idiot feared, and for reasons he could not begin to comprehend, it made him seem more redeemable, less arrogant—even if only slightly.
“I’m not keen on tight spaces, and ghosts terrify me, but spiders are no issue for me,” Lorelei shrugged.
“Good, then you can fight them while I cower in the corner and cry.”
She laughed at him, but he was not amused. “Really? Spiders? Of all the things I thought you’d be afraid of…”
“I’m not ashamed.”
“There is no shame in confessing weakness,” Brendolowyn shrugged, the statement garnering a glower from Finn that only served to intensify the sense of satisfaction he felt in enjoying the other man’s vulnerability. “Nevertheless, let us away. Loathe as I am to journey forward, lingering here will do no good.”
“As you will,” the boy nodded compliance and led them outside to the waiting carriage.
She hung on the open window of the carriage as they passed through the streets, taking in every sight and wonder with amazement she made no attempts to hide. She asked endless questions, their guide answering them to the best of his ability while Brendolowyn only stared at the streets beyond and listened to the sound of her voice.
Everything intrigued her, made her seem that much more alive and filled with wonder. Her amazement touched him in ways there were no words to express, and yet he knew he should not even try to express it. He did not know what happened between her and Finn, but something definitely changed. It was for the best, he was sure, but it did not hurt any less to accept it. If anything, it made him loathe himself, his weakness stirring untold anxiety inside him he feared would be his undoing before all was said and done.
“And that is the palace of the King Under the City?” she asked. “I do wish I could have met him while we were here.”
“It is a rare thing for an outsider to gain audience with the Silver-Tongue,” the boy told her.
“I imagine it would be,” she leaned back in the carriage and glanced over at their guide. “I would still like to meet him one day. All my life I overheard the king mention that name with such grief and anger. After all the things I’ve learned these last weeks, it would be no small wonder to meet your King Under the City and draw my own conclusions.”
“I have no authority to speak on his behalf, but I feel he might be equally interested to meet with you as well.”
“Only if he thought she held some sort of sway with the king of Leithe,” Brendolowyn smirked.
The child turned narrowed, glaring eyes toward him, but he said nothing to contradict Bren’s claims. That glare was meant to chill him, the unspoken insult of his half-elven heritage a gesture that should have disturbed him, but it brought him an odd sense of comfort.
“The world above fascinates him,” Alanuuin went on as though Bren hadn’t spoken at all. “He and my master both remember a time when the world was ours, when we walked free. They are always eager to meet those who might wish to see our people returned to the sun.”
“I think everyone deserves to walk in the light,” she said, and though he respected her for saying it, he couldn’t help but feeling she was still so very naive.
“Perhaps when we return from Sorrow’s Peak, I can meet him.”
“Perhaps,” Alanuuin agreed.
Brendolowyn kept to himself that she was probably better for not having met Jonolov Silver-Tongue, but he sensed the boy could read his thoughts for his glower only continued to grow and remained focused on him as they continued through the streets.
In past visits, they allowed him to explore the city, but it never failed to astonish him just how large a place it was, how much magic was required to maintain the facade. His companions marveled at the sights, even Finn, who hadn’t made much comment one way or the other on the astonishing feat it must have been to build so vast a city below ground. The road before them stretched for miles, Lorelei remarking it rivaled even Rivenn in size, at which point Bren explained to her, “It is actually larger than Rivenn, stretching below the port itself and all the outlying villages.”
“Wow,” she astounded, shaking her head.
She didn’t have to say the words for him to understand how homesick she suddenly felt. The pride and glory of Rivenn had always been its delicate, but powerful Alvarii architecture. The carved latticework decorating doors and windows were not so different than the ones she’d grown up admiring form the castle towers.
For a long time after that the carriage was filled with a never ending stream of questions he didn’t always have answers for. Alanuuin was all too happy to entertain her curiosity.
By the time they reached the temple of Alvariin and the lyceum tower looming over Nua Duaan in such a way it almost seemed out of place, she’d exhausted herself asking questions and grew respectfully silent in the shadow of the lyceum rising like an erect phallus behind the temple. Golden flags boasting Alvariin’s symbol wavered casually in the breeze, hiding and revealing that symbol with every rippling snap.
The carriage stopped before the temple, and she marveled its glory as the boy led them inside. Through the lonely halls they barely garnered the acknowledgment of the priests and acolytes entranced by their daily meditations and prayers to the goddess Alvariin. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of the temple a chorus of voices rang out Alvariin’s praises, a haunted melody that both soothed and gave the mage chills as he followed the boy and his companions to the gated catacombs in the bowels of the temple. He could still hear the distant voices, carrying with them the illusion of grace and peace that embodied the spirits of a people who’d made the most of what they had.
They were not his people, even as they were, and that realization made him feel both peaceful and sad.
The crypts themselves were wide and long, but beyond them it was several miles through tight, twisted and often claustrophobic tunnels winding upward and toward the surface. He didn’t need a mate bond with Lorelei to feel her terror. She mumbled all the way through the caverns, promising herself she was almost through it. How he longed to comfort
her, as her mate offered no such placation. Finn was paranoid, on guard as he searched every shadow for the giant spiders Alanuuin warned them about.
No spiders attacked, but evidence of their presence existed in loose-hanging strands of sticky, white web dangling wrapped pods that surely contained large dogs and possibly deer.
When at last the cavern opened into daylight, even he felt grateful to see the actual sun and not some weary illusion held together by magic. The freshness of the air filled his lungs as he breathed in and lifted his face into the subtle salt tinge of the distant sea still clinging to the wind. It mingled with the heavy scent of pines from the needle-laden trees shrouding the cave and making the late afternoon feel more like evening.
Four elven sentries waited in the clearing, guarding their horses and the back passage into Nua Duaan, and they bowed to the seer’s young apprentice with the same reverence he had seen in men as they bowed to kings. They rose only when the boy acknowledged them with a nod and made quick gesture for them to stand.
“Was there any trouble?” Alanuuin asked.
“A band of Urokaar came through this way early this morning, heading south. Our illusions held and there was no confrontation.” The sentry turned his attention on Lorelei before continuing. “I would advise you to take caution on the road. I know you have only one mage, but if he is able to maintain a cloaking spell while traveling, it would be in your best interest until you are well away from the road to Port Felar.”
“I will take that under advisement.” Ignoring their slight, Bren didn’t make eye contact when he replied, but shoved past them and headed toward the horses.
Maintaining a constant cloaking spell would be taxing, but he could do it. He worried it would exhaust him beyond recall long before they arrived at their destination, making him useless to his companions in a fight. He really did need to make himself sleep more.
A temporary sense of relief filled him when Hrafn croaked from the trees above the horses, then fluttered down to land on the arm Bren stretched to receive him. His mind filled with a flourish of imagery, meaningless pictures of all the bird witnessed while they were parted, including a glimpse of the orcs mentioned by the sentries.
Being parted from his avian companion was always taxing on his soul, even if only for a couple of days. Unfortunately, their reunion would be short-lived, as he would have to send him west, back to Dunvarak with word he’d prepared for Hodon announcing the impending arrival of Alvarii troops.
While Lorelei said farewell to their guide, Bren enjoyed his brief interlude with Hrafn, feeling uplifted and almost hopeful for the first time in days. Just when he was starting to feel comfortable and whole again, he attached the missive to the bird’s leg and held him out to admire him. He need not say words. Hrafn knew they were parting ways again and the raven lamented his departure with a cooing caw that echoed through the valley, making the mage ache inside.
He knew there would not be time enough for the bird to rejoin them on the road to Sorrow’s Peak. Surely, he could face whatever enemy waited them there without his companion, but he did not want to. Hrafn made him feel stronger, more complete. His absence would be a distraction, and not for the first time he found himself wondering if not having Hrafn with him during that battle was the catalyst preventing him from keeping Finn alive.
Hrafn was his strength, and as much as he wanted to do the right thing, as awful as the things Gwendoliir showed him during his meeting with the King Under the City, Brendolowyn struggled to let go of his unnatural and unhealthy attachment to a woman he didn’t even know.
When the time came, would he be able to do the right thing? Alvariin’s grace, he hoped so.
Glancing toward the U’lfer, he watched the broad-shoulder warrior attempt to rebond with his mount, his gaze flitting toward a bemused Lorelei and resting there for a moment. The sun’s light parted through the dense treetops, cascading across her hair and illuminating gold and amber highlights. The smile she wore could light the world, he thought, and as it dawned on him that though she’d blessed him with many a grin since they’d become friends, never once had she smiled at him quite the way she did while watching Finn.
She was in love with the wolf. He’d seen it in her eyes that morning when she snuck from Finn’s room just as he was exiting his own quarters. He didn’t know what happened behind that closed door, and while it was certainly none of his business, the thought plagued him all morning. They… belonged together. It pained him to accept that. Losing Finn made it impossible for her to complete the task she was required to perform, and while he had a difficult time imagining why in the world that big, dumb oaf was such an important part of her life, he was coming to understand despite his personal heartache, standing in the way of what they had would be devastating.
They swore to protect one another, to offer their own life if it meant saving one of their companions. He only hoped there was enough time to intervene before Finn did something stupid enough to get himself killed. He hated that he was expected to protect the man who would be living the life, the very future, he himself desired more than anything, but for Lorelei he would do what needed to be done. His love for her, as unnatural and strange as it was, could not be selfish.
Drawing his hood up, his eyes trained on the dwindling black dot in the sky, growing smaller as it headed west. He felt so empty inside, and the only thing left that made him feel whole was drifting away from him on the wind.
They set out from the cavern exit with only a few hours of daylight left. All three of them remained relatively silent as they traveled north, off the road and within a protective veil of magic Brendolowyn struggled to maintain. There was no sign of other travelers on the road, save for worn and dusty footprints headed southeast, toward the sea and the port. Orc smell still lingered on the wind, an aftermath of their having traveled that way. It made the horses uncomfortable and skittish, but they pressed on and the magic continued to drain him until he felt like a mere husk of flesh and meager bone.
It was an exhausting task, maintaining a cloaking spell while they traveled, and with his mind distracted as it was by Hrafn’s absence, what he’d witnessed earlier that morning and the task before them, it was a small wonder he kept his focus at all. The silver energy surrounding them, a bubble-like protection only he could see, cast several feet beyond their movement to compensate for the horses’ stride. It wavered and flickered with each distracted thought, barely protecting them at all, and when Lorelei spoke his name just near sundown to signal she wanted to stop for the night, the barrier winked out entirely as if he had no control over it.
He’d never been gladder to hear the U’lfer say he needed to hunt than he was that night. His absence would give Bren time to replenish his energy in order to lift the barrier around their camp.
It took a lot out of him to brood over things he couldn’t, or rather shouldn’t, change or try to control.
Finn slid off his horse, handed the reins to Lorelei and took off into the unfamiliar woods before she could call after him to be careful.
Even after she dropped down and tethered their horses to a nearby tree, Brendolowyn lingered on horseback, too tired himself to dismount. At first she didn’t seem to notice, as she went about unpacking their tents. She was unrolling the first one before she glanced over her shoulder, saw him still aback his horse and tilted her head. Worry creased her brow.
“You’ve been quiet all day, Bren. Are you all right?”
The answer to that question was simple enough, but he had no right to give it to her. He was not all right, and in no way could he conceive of a version of the world in which they lived that he would ever be all right. He let his leg slide toward the needled earth below, stretching the muscles in his thighs before bringing the other foot down. He patted the neck of his mount affectionately before wrapping the reins around his hand and leading him toward the other horses.
She said nothing at first, watching him with the same puzzled, fretful look, but when
he turned back toward her to help setup camp, she freed her tongue. “Are you not speaking to me now?”
“What?” he startled. “No… I mean, yes, of course I’m speaking to you. I’m just tired.”
“You’ve barely spoken to me all day,” she pointed out. “I was beginning to wonder if you were upset about this morning.”
“It takes a lot out of me to maintain magic so constantly.”
Ignoring her question, he didn’t have to draw the event to mind to know exactly what she was referring to. The image had been there all day, the startled, almost guilty look on her face when she glanced up to see him standing in the hallway. As he’d turned to walk away before she could say anything, that flash of guilt nearly made him feel better. Nearly, but not quite.
It shouldn’t have bothered him at all, considering she and Finn spent every night in the same tent together since he met them, but there was something altogether different about two people sharing a private room when they didn’t have to. At Logren’s, it had been different. He stayed away, had the distinct impression Finn would never be so bold as to defile her under her brother’s roof.
Had they been intimate? Had she finally committed herself to her mate?
It was none of his business, and he knew it, but when she went to note, “I see you’re avoiding my question,” he couldn’t help but wonder why she wanted to make it his business. It wasn’t purposeful, but it felt like she’d gripped the hilt of a knife already aching in his gut and wrenched it inside him.
“Where you rest your head is none of my affair, my lady.” He did not look up at her, though he could feel her eyes on him, almost imagine the thoughtful tilt of her head and the sudden flash of sadness in her gaze.
“No,” she agreed, “you’re right. It isn’t, but I can’t help feeling…” The words died on her lips, dwindling into silence just before she shrugged a shoulder toward her ear and dropped back down to finish the task she’d started.
He thought that was the end of it, but several minutes passed and she resumed the thread.
Sorrow's Peak (Serpent of Time Book 2) Page 42
