What Do You Say to a Naked Elf?

by Cheryl Sterling

  Unfair, she thought. She didn’t like his passive-aggressive response. The future of Malin shouldn’t rest on her shoulders. But it does. Until I go to Malik, we stay in limbo.

  Feeling the weight of her decision, she pushed past him to dress and silently make her way back to Kerreleigh.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Five days later, Jane tried to appear calm while lying through her teeth to the man sitting opposite her. He made her nerves zing like electrical wires. The favor she’d asked of him didn’t ease her turmoil, either.

  “So you see,” she said, finishing her long, convoluted story of the Dymynsh, pregnant women and rainstorms on demand. “You’re the only one who can help me.”

  She met John Tivat’s intense emerald gaze. It pierced her through to her core, and she felt as if he’d exposed every flaw in her plan. She suspected he knew more than he showed.

  Leaning forward, Tivat asked, “What of the Whelphite? Why can’t he accompany you to Malik?”

  His question shot holes in her theory of an all-knowing Tivat. Though in self-imposed exile, he must have heard rumors of her estrangement from Charlie earlier in the week. Kerreleigh was a small world; the news had swept through the tree community, instigating strange looks in her direction.

  Jane fell against the blue velvet cushions of her chair, her gaze drifting to the subtle opulence of his suite. Why does a prisoner have such nice rooms? And why does he stay? With his shape-shifting talent, he could escape at any time. There’s more here than meets the eye.

  Idly playing with the silky fringe of a pillow, her senses alert to any changes in her companion, she said, “Charlie and I aren’t talking. Even if we were, he’d stop me. He’d chain me down if he had to.” Her eyes misted, and her voice trembled with emotion. “I’ve been a handful at times. I don’t think he’d like me careening to Malik to save the world.”

  “But you feel you have to?” Tivat watched her, his manner deceptively calm. She saw his caged power and wondered how he’d landed in Sylthia’s prison the night before he’d escaped to Earth. He didn’t seem the type to lose control of his life.

  She smiled wanly. “Other than the fact that I obviously didn’t kill you and was being sent there for my punishment? No, I’m meant to go to Malik and end the Dymynsh. It’s kind of a destiny thing.”

  Lowth had made her a big believer in destiny. How else could she explain Tivat literally running into her? Or that Charlie had been in the pursuit party? Or his royal background, and possibly the royalty of Bryant and herself?

  “Why not ask Bryant?” Tivat said, as if reading her mind. “He grew up in Malik and should know it well.”

  “He’s taking care of my mother.” Jane averted her eyes. She wondered if he knew the history of the hunter and her mother. The devotion between the two had set tongues wagging. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to make the leap from their relationship to Jane’s pointed ears.

  She was grateful that Eagar had had a relapse from his sandobble injuries and was staying in his rooms. It delayed overturning her sentence for murder, but it also kept them from returning to Sylthia. It would also put her, unexpectedly, right where Eagar wanted her the most—through Shallen’s gates.

  “Muttle told me you’ve traveled all over Lowth and know Shallen.” She picked at the pillow fringe, glancing at Tivat to see his reaction.

  He took the object from her and tossed it in a corner of the room. “Before my life of crime?” he asked, nodding. “Yes, I can get you into the castle undetected. But what makes you think I’ll jeopardize my freedom?”

  She knew he’d ask. So far, he’d been exemplary in his conduct, returning from Earth, locking himself in these rooms to await trial. Again, she had to ask herself why. What was in it for him? Helping out your future queen wasn’t an answer she could give him, not unless it became absolutely necessary.

  “Look,” she said, warping bits of truth and logic to suit her purpose. “If I get to Blacwin and negotiate the end of the Dymynsh—which everyone wants—then I’m a hero. You’re a hero for getting me there. No one’s going to punish you.” She batted her eyelashes in a feeble attempt to influence him. “Are you with me?”

  She held her breath as he took a long time to answer. “There are many obstacles,” he finally said in protest.

  I’ve got him. Cocky with triumph, she said, “Yeah, I know. Such as a couple of full moons, an army of flying fairies, goblins, a rogue sandobble or two, not to mention Capp’ear still on the loose. You’ve got your work cut out for you.” She smiled, trying to dazzle him with charm.

  “If I say no?”

  “Then I go it alone. Are you in or out?” She watched him stretch his long legs, his attitude too casual. With sudden clarity, she wondered who had tricked whom into going.

  Tivat smiled at her, his demeanor changing to a sharper focus. “I’m in,” he said, leaning forward. “Now here’s what you have to do before tomorrow night.”

  Jane!

  Charlie woke from a dead sleep, his heart pounding. His wings throbbed in warning. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and fumbled in the dark to light a candle. It cast strange and menacing shadows against the wall.

  He bent forward to catch his breath, his wings spread, alert to danger. Every nerve cried of impending trouble.

  Nothing can get into Kerreleigh to harm her. He tried logic to calm himself. But what of getting out? Hard on the heels of this thought came the one thing that had bothered him since earlier in the day.

  She was wearing pants.

  He’d seen her that evening, dressed in Hugh’s trousers, cleaned and pressed after their adventure from Gaelen.

  Other clues hit him, seemingly insignificant at the time. News traveled fast in Kerreleigh. He’d heard of her visits with Bryant and Muttle, of hours spent talking to them outside the range of normal sickroom conversations. That morning, she’d made her way to the dispensary and kitchens. All indications pointed to one of Jane’s grand plans. Charlie intended to put an end to it before she hurt herself.

  Alarmed, he called to her.

  ]ane!

  She’d refused to listen to him telepathically since their fight at the waterfalls, and she’d virtually slammed the door shut in the last day. He couldn’t get any response from her.

  His breath still uneven, he dressed quickly. Taking the candle, he left his room to journey down the hall to hers.

  A tentative knock on the door brought no response. Opening it, he wasn’t surprised to find the chamber empty. His wings felt her presence in another direction, farther away.

  Jane, where are you? Charlie let his anger show in the question. She’d caused enough trouble in Lowth. He didn’t need her making more, especially in the middle of the night.

  If she wouldn’t answer him, maybe she’d listen to Muttle. Silently, Charlie traveled through the quiet hallways of Kerreleigh. He extinguished the light as he stepped into the healing hall. Candles flickered in sconces set in the walls, illuminating the rooms for those who worked nights.

  His hand raised to knock on Muttle’s door, Charlie drew back, startled to hear Eagar’s voice. His senses heightened. As far as he’d been told, Eagar had suffered a relapse and hadn’t left his bed since Jane’s rescue the previous week.

  “Tell him the plan goes better than expected,” the steward said. “She should be at Shallen’s gate in three days.”

  Shallen’s gate? A cold fear dropped onto Charlie, immobilizing him. “She” could only be Jane. Why would Jane head for Shallen?

  Blacwin! By the first light, she’s going there anyway.

  He moved to push open the door, but Muttle’s next words stopped him.

  “He be pleased. Tivat will get her there safely.”

  Charlie reeled from the statement. The Belwaith’s inflection on “he” could only refer to King Garmade.

  He felt a sudden anger at the king. His grandfather! Why would Garmade need Tivat’s help to lead Jane to Malik?

  “The
escape will look natural,” Eagar said. “Just as it did the night we brought her to Lowth. We have no control over Tivat’s shape-shifting abilities. Him taking the Earthwoman hostage will be incentive for us to continue to Malik, the Whelphite included. Then all the pieces will fit into place.”

  Charlie dragged his hand through his hair, trying to make sense of all this new information. How long had he been blind to the plans made around him? When had Eagar and Garmade started them? The night we brought her to Lowth? It hadn’t been an accident?

  He took a deep breath, clinging to sensibility. His mind raced. If Tivat was an implement to bring Jane to Lowth . . . If the murder trial and its consequences had been manipulated into being . . . Jane was headed into great danger. An unwilling pawn? Charlie didn’t think so. He’d bet Jane had the idea to go to Malik first, some altruistic deed to end the Dymynsh, or another reason of her own. Eagar had found out about it and twisted the situation to fit his plans.

  Charlie resisted the urge to barge into Muttle’s room and demand the truth. Much better to back away and let them think him ignorant.

  I’ll use their knowledge against them.

  Five minutes later, he pulled the jouroke over his wings. Five minutes after that, he took to the night sky.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  From the light of the twin full moons, Jane stared at Tivat. It neared midnight. They’d been on the trail for an hour now, leaving Kerreleigh without detection. It had been almost too easy.

  Tivat coiled a length of rope and fastened the end securely.

  “How did you think we’d make it to Shallen?” he asked, his features clear.

  Jane shook her head. “I don’t know. On foot, the same way you traveled with my mother.”

  “Time wasn’t of the essence then, but we’ll follow the same path for a while.” He glanced at the sky. “There’re six hours of night left. We’ll be past the borders of Isleighah by daybreak, but I don’t think the edge of the forest will stop a fairy pursuit. They’ll be on wing and will rapidly catch us.”

  “But changing into a horse?” His earlier suggestion repulsed her. To watch him change, then sit on his back and feel him move between her thighs—she didn’t like the thought of him in that position. Could she forget he was a man? It sounded highly erotic. Riding Tivat smacked of unfaithfulness to Charlie.

  Tivat placed the rope on the ground with the other supplies she’d brought—provisions stolen from Kerreleigh and, upon reflection, inadequate for two people for half a week.

  “It’s what I do,” he said, shrugging. “Shape-shift.”

  “But doesn’t it hurt?” Visions of Star Trek and the transporter room came to mind. Rearranging his body into another form might smart a bit.

  He smiled. “That’s the beauty of the plan. I don’t feel it. However, switching back and forth takes energy. Once I’m in horse form, I’ll only change back at night, when we rest.”

  “Or if there’s danger,” she added.

  “I might be able to defend you better as a stallion.”

  A stallion? Jane gulped. She did not want to think of mares and stallions, full moons and hot summer nights. Better to consider him Mr. Ed or John Wayne’s horse in the Western of your choice, or a painted pony on a carousel.

  Jane reminded herself that she carried Charlie’s baby. Once she established its heritage, a task that could only be carried out in Shallen, she’d tell Charlie. Then she could write the happily-ever-after part of her story.

  After she defeated Blacwin. The last hurdle. She sighed and looked at Tivat. “Do what you need to. You’re the guide.”

  Tivat nodded. To her astonishment, he pulled off his shirt.

  “Hey, wait a minute, elf-man. What the heck do you think you’re doing?” Jane backed away, alarmed.

  He stopped, his hands at his waistband. “My clothes don’t change with my body,” he said matter-of-factly, as if they might be discussing the weather.

  “Riiight. The Incredible Hulk effect. I hope you don’t mind if I turn my back.” I only want to see one elf naked. Charlie.

  Tivat shrugged. “As you wish.” He tugged at his pants.

  Jane swiveled around and kept her gaze fixed on a distant tree. A few moments later she felt a change in the air pressure. She tentatively turned her head. A magnificent roan stallion stared back at her.

  She blew out a breath. “Okaaay.” Gathering her common sense, she loaded the bags that contained their supplies onto Tivat’s back. She mounted the animal and grabbed a handful of mane, adjusting to the sensation of him under her. With the feeling that this was a major mistake, she nudged him in the ribs. They took off through the Isleighah Forest.

  Charlie spotted her late the next evening as the western clouds turned lavender and shadows dug deeper into the woods. Finding her had been easy: the sensation in his wings followed her in the forest, mountains and plains. He’d have caught up with her sooner—by his reckoning, he’d left Kerreleigh three hours after her escape—but flying took unexpected energy. His short adventure the week before hadn’t prepared him for an extended flight, and he’d stopped several times to rest.

  He landed in a clearing several yards in front of her, the waning sun at his back casting a long shadow. Emphasizing the effect, he spread his wings to their full length. He hoped it made him appear large, looming and angry.

  Jane’s horse halted of its own accord a few feet from him. She shaded her eyes before speaking.

  “Charlie. I wondered when you’d show up.” She sounded slightly out of breath.

  He strode to her. The horse sidestepped away. “I thought I’d drop in and see what trouble you’re causing.” He wanted to throttle her.

  “I’m on my way to Malik.” Defiance thickened her voice.

  “You have no idea the danger you’re in.” He grabbed at her horse’s mane to keep it from moving. It tossed its head, glaring at him through green eyes. Green eyes? “What’s going on here?” He indicated the animal.

  “I asked John to be my guide.”

  “John? John Tivat?” He almost choked on the words. He figured Eagar had been wrong, that Tivat would have left her at the first opportunity.

  He pulled her off the horse’s back and hauled her, kicking and spitting, to the edge of the clearing.

  “You don’t know what’s been happening in the background, what Eagar’s been up to—,” he rasped.

  Her hands immobilized, she kicked him in the knee. “I’m trying to find out. No doubt Eagar is in the thick of things.”

  Charlie ignored the pain and tightened his grip. “Tivat is in this as well.”

  “You don’t think I know? We’re using each other.”

  He followed her glance to Tivat, who’d shifted back and stood nude in the dim light.

  “Put some clothes on,” Charlie snapped at the naked elf. The other man rummaged in a knapsack for clothing. Charlie garnered slight satisfaction in the fact that Jane only glanced briefly at Tivat.

  “I’m going to Malik,” she repeated. “I don’t care if Eagar, Tivat or Bozo the Clown is involved. Everything will be solved at Shallen.”

  Where had he heard those words before? Oh, right, from Eagar’s mouth. Did she know the steward’s part in this?

  “Jane—”

  She jerked free and stood rubbing her wrists. “Don’t try to stop me,” she warned. She strode to Tivat and snatched the knapsack from his feet. Glaring at Charlie, she took off.

  He let her go. She’d be easy enough to find again. But first he had to deal with Tivat.

  “Wait,” Tivat said as Charlie reached him. “Something’s wrong.”

  “You bet there is,” Charlie replied, enraged.

  “No.” Tivat stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “Can’t you feel it?” He stood still, as if sensing a shift in the wind.

  Coward, Charlie thought. But as he cocked his fist back to hit the other elf, a warning pain shot from one wing to another. A fami
liar rush of air pressure made him turn his head toward the path. Then Jane screamed.

  The portal!

  “Damn you,” he cried, and swung at Tivat. His fist connected with the elf’s jaw, and Tivat reeled back. “Did you bring her here on purpose? To let her go back to Earth?”

  Tivat put out a restraining hand. “No, I swear.”

  Anger and fear pummeled Charlie. “I’m not going to let her go.” Already he felt it too late to stop her. “Give me your shirt.” He wore the jouroke and his wings needed to be covered on Earth.

  Tivat whipped off his shirt and tossed it to him. Charlie jerked it on, swimming in the extra fabric.

  “It’s not the portal to Earth,” Tivat said.

  “What?” Charlie stopped, an icy dread possessing him.

  “The portal I used with Marion is over twenty miles from here. Can’t you feel the difference?”

  Yes, it had an unfamiliar resonance to it. But random portals? There’d been rumors of them for years. It didn’t matter to Charlie. He’d go wherever he needed to find Jane.

  “We’re wasting time,” he shouted. He ran and stepped into the portal.

  White mist curled around Jane, disorienting her. She’d taken one last look at Charlie, then unintentionally run smack dab into it. Three steps in and she didn’t know east from west, night from day.

  This isn’t right. She stopped, stretching her hand before her. The fog hid her fingers from view. Snatching them closer, she swung around, her heart hammering. Which way is out?

  Charlie! All her bravado at making the journey alone deserted her. The milky air undulated around her, like amorphous tentacles, waving, stretching closer. She took another step and felt something against her cheek, like a cold caress. A scream left her, instantly swallowed by the night.

  Groping for a tree or bush, anything to anchor her to Lowth, she felt nothing but the ground beneath her feet. Then the tips of her ears tingled. Without being told, she recognized it as a sign of danger. And knew its source.

  The portal!

  No! her mind screamed. I don’t want to go back!