Night Elves of Ardani: Book Three: Invocation

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by Nina K. Westra




  Night Elves of Ardani

  Book Three: Invocation

  Nina K. Westra

  Copyright © 2021 Nina K. Westra

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Free post-epilogue story

  Thank You

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Novikke flickered in and out of consciousness, catching only flashes of sound and light in brief moments of lucidity.

  Shouting. Rough arms on her, and then gentler ones. Voices in languages she didn’t understand. Whispers that were far away, like someone trying not to wake her, and others that were murmured directly into her ear.

  The pain in her stomach was always there—sometimes dull, sometimes sharp and piercing.

  She awoke very slowly, to the sound of distant voices that she didn’t recognize. She cautiously opened her eyes.

  She was in a dark room. And she was in a bed. Gods, how long had it been since she’d slept in a real bed?

  There was a jolt of pain in her stomach, rudely reminding her of what had happened before she’d passed out. She brought a hand to the spot where the sword had gone through her. A thick bandage was wrapped around her middle beneath a thin robe.

  She spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. She wasn’t alone in the room. Someone stood facing a dresser in the corner, fussing with something inside it. Novikke saw dark hair, dark skin, and she was flooded with relief. He was alive.

  “Arun—” she began, her voice hoarse from lack of use, and then she saw the streaks of silver running through the figure’s hair. The figure turned to her, and Novikke froze.

  It was a Varai woman. Novikke’s mind went to the mage who’d burned her at the outpost, and her heart raced and her skin prickled as she began to sweat in panic.

  But this was not that woman. That woman was dead. And this one was older. It was hard to tell the ages of elves, but there were wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and faint creases framing her mouth.

  The woman gave her an unimpressed look. “Tuh,” she spat dismissively, and Novikke couldn’t tell if it was a word or just a sound of annoyance.

  The woman finished folding the blanket in her hands, shoved it into the dresser, then exited the room, closing the door behind her.

  Novikke lay frozen on the bed. Had they been captured? This didn’t look like a prison. She wasn’t tied down. And they’d bandaged her.

  Groaning softly, she sat up, swung her legs off the bed, and unsteadily stood. Her head spun and black spots dotted her vision. She went to the room’s sole window, leaning heavily on the sill. All she could see was forest. Deep blue light of late evening filtered through the trees. When she looked closely, she saw another structure in the trees, and several more dark figures standing outside it. More night elves.

  Tendrils of Panic pulled at her head, quickening her breaths. Holding an arm around her bandages, she scanned the room for something she could use as a weapon. There was nothing, unless bedsheets counted.

  The door opened again, and she tensed, putting her back against the window.

  Aruna stood in the doorway.

  He looked her up and down, then stepped inside, letting in light from a fireplace somewhere beyond the door.

  Images of him on the ground, bleeding and almost dead, flooded her mind, and she could have cried. He was all right. He looked better than ever, even.

  Zaiur’s sword was belted at his hip. He wore new clothes and his hair was freshly washed and braided. There was no sign of the injury he’d had before. Novikke wondered if she’d dreamed all of it. She couldn’t understand what had happened, how they had both survived, how she’d gotten to wherever this was.

  She watched him uneasily, waiting for an explanation. Perhaps he’d finally lost patience with her and the other Ardanians after what had happened. He’d tried to kill Theros—maybe Thala, too. Theros had nearly unleashed irreparable harm upon Kuda Varai, after all. It was unforgivable. Aruna had tolerated everything else they’d done, but not this.

  Maybe he had decided that a night elf and a human could not be friends, after all.

  She watched him cross the room toward her. He stopped in front of her, his mouth half opening as if to speak and then snapping shut again. She still couldn’t tell if he was about to denounce her or praise her.

  As if he sensed her nervousness and wanted to calm her, he put a hand on her arm. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her. He seemed about to lean in, but then, to her disappointment, he pulled away, gesturing toward the bed.

  She nodded toward his ribs, where Theros’s sword had gone through him, and gave him a questioning look.

  He smiled a broken sort of smile—the kind that was only moments away from a grimace. He shook his head and gestured to the bed again.

  She sat obediently on the edge of the bed, then motioned a request for writing tools. The gesture had been simplified to the point of being unrecognizable to anyone other than themselves by then, hardly more than a twitch of the hand. Aruna was already pulling a notebook from his pocket—the same notebook they’d been using before. He’d held onto it through his entire time with the Ardanians.

  When he handed it to her, it was open to a page that he’d already written something on.

  “We’re safe. At a village called Rameka, not far from the Auren-Li ruins. Kadaki sealed the magic leak at the ruins.”

  Novikke looked up at him. If he’d taken the time to write an explanation before she woke up, he could have been a lot more thorough about it. She gestured again, and he handed her a pencil.

  “Varai village?” she wrote, stating the obvious.

  The corners of his mouth ticked up. He nodded. Novikke gave a confused shrug, asking for further information.

  Instead of giving any, he wrote, “How do you feel? Are you well enough to walk?”

  The faintness she was feeling was probably spell fever. Someone had healed her wound quite thoroughly, otherwise it would have hurt more. “Feel fine,” she wrote impatiently.

  Aruna went to the dresser, then handed her a stack of dark clothing. She wondered what had happened to her old uniform. There’d been so much blood. It must have been unsalvageable.

  She wondered if night elves ever wore clothes that weren’t some shade of black. They must have been dedicated to fashion or stealth or both, to dye seemingly every single piece of cloth they had.

  Then she thought of how most of the animals and plants in Kuda Varai were also some shade of black. They probably had wool from black sheep and leather from black deer.

  Aruna sat on the bed while she donned the new clothes. She paused to finger the bandages circling her midsection. Her abdominal muscles twinged every time she moved, and she was careful not to stretch too far for fear of tearing something.

  “Shaashva verun,” Aruna said softly.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. He was leaning back on his hands, watching her. His eyes flicked toward
the bandages, then back up to her face, solemn. Don’t touch that, she guessed.

  She finished pulling on the shirt, then a long jerkin and jacket. The clothes were loose in some places and fitted in others, which seemed to be an intentional part of the design rather than a bad fit. It all struck her as a very pleasing combination of artistic and functional compared to fashion you’d find in Ardani.

  She theatrically gestured to herself, presenting the strange outfit to him. He smiled, looking more than a little appreciative of the sight. She silently preened.

  He went to the door, motioning for her to follow. Novikke picked up the notebook and wrote in it as they walked. Gods knew she had questions.

  “Is this your house?” she wrote and then showed the book to him.

  He shook his head.

  “Who was that woman?” she asked.

  The bedroom door led into the main room of the house. They were in a small cottage. There was another bed in the corner of this room, a table with some dishes still on it, and a hearth to one side with a cooking pot over a fire.

  “My aunt,” he wrote.

  She raised her eyebrows. He’d brought them to his aunt’s house?

  She hesitated when he went to the front door and strode outside. She peered through the doorway from the middle of the room. Other buildings loomed in the distance.

  Aruna stopped when he realized she wasn’t with him. With a sudden nod, he felt around in his pockets until he found something that he pulled forth. After a second, it glowed with soft blue light. Her mage torch.

  She gave a half-hearted smile. She was more worried about the other Varai than about the dark itself. She came to the doorway, took the light, and tried not to think about what had happened the last time she’d stupidly followed Aruna into a Varai settlement.

  She followed him out of the house and into the evening. They were in a patch of the forest that was dotted with stone houses with thatch roofs. The area had been cleared of undergrowth and all but the largest trees. It looked remarkably like any other village in Ardani—small houses lining a central path, animal pens nearby, stacks of chopped wood lined up along walls. She could hear a water wheel turning somewhere in the distance.

  People hovered near doorways and walked along paths. They must have just been waking up. They wore simple, utilitarian clothing, for working and getting dirty maybe, but not for fighting. A few carried swords, but not all. It wasn’t like the outpost. These were normal people. Civilians.

  Every one of them stared when she passed. She tried not to look nervous. Would it be polite to smile? The idea felt absurd.

  She was so distracted by the people on either side of them that she didn’t see who was directly in front of them until Aruna came to a stop.

  “Neiryn!” she said, surprised. He was sitting on a bench by a large fire pit at the center of the village. He turned to her, eyebrows up.

  “You’re still alive, then?” he said. “Despite your best efforts.”

  Then she saw Kadaki sitting on his other side, looking small next to him with her hands folded in her lap and her hood up. Her eyes had such dark circles beneath them that she almost looked like she’d been beaten up. She blinked slowly at the fire, then looked up. It looked like even that much movement was an effort.

  “Welcome back,” the mage said quietly.

  “Kadaki,” Novikke said, “I’m so glad you’re all right. What you did back there was—”

  “Amazing,” Neiryn supplied.

  “Yes,” Novikke agreed.

  “Yes, it was,” Kadaki said blandly, looking back at the fire. “You have no idea.”

  There was a faint air of unease among them. Aruna seemed satisfied with the situation, but Neiryn looked tense and Kadaki looked unhappier than ever. Perhaps it was just exhaustion.

  “Then you really fixed it? Everything is all right now?”

  Kadaki’s face darkened. “Yes. Everything is fine, Novikke.”

  “There’s not going to be any kind of…magical disaster, anymore?”

  “Isn’t that what I said?”

  Novikke gave an uncertain nod, relieved. “That’s great news.” She looked around at all of them. “Then…this is all over. Really, this time. Right?”

  “I should damn well hope so,” Neiryn said.

  “What happened to the others?” she asked. “Where’s Thala?”

  “There was a disagreement between ourselves and the other Ardanians,” Neiryn said, rolling his eyes.

  Novikke sat on the bench beside Aruna. He remained silent, content to have Neiryn to explain everything. “What happened?”

  He crossed one ankle over the other and turned his gaze upward, as if organizing the events in his head. “After you lost consciousness, Kadaki finished closing the leak in the ruins that your captain created. Then, after all that, she still managed to heal you enough to keep you alive. Then Vissarion and Aleka tried to kill Aruna, but I stopped them—you’re welcome—”

  Novikke’s eyes widened. Neiryn sighed.

  “I didn’t burn them, Novikke. If you so much as hold a tiny flame in your hand, humans go running. And that’s exactly what they did. We…” He glanced down at Kadaki, who didn’t appear to be paying attention. “We asked Thala to come with us. She refused.”

  “You didn’t go with them?” Novikke said to Kadaki.

  “I thought you might need me again,” she said, and swallowed almost nervously. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t try to kill yourself again.”

  “I…wasn’t trying—”

  “I thought what you did was ingenious,” Neiryn said. “Stupid, but ingenious.”

  “Thanks,” Novikke said uncertainly.

  Kadaki’s tense shoulders relaxed a little. “You did save his life,” she conceded. “It was still a foolish thing to do. I’ve worked on you a few times since then. You were much worse off when we first got to the village. We weren’t certain that you were going to make it.”

  Novikke glanced guiltily toward Aruna. She hadn’t meant to cause anyone to worry.

  “That sword is a curious thing,” Kadaki said. “I’ve never seen an enchantment like that. Where did you get it?”

  “It’s Varai-made.”

  “Figures. It’s a horrible design. No one in their right mind would make a healing spell that only works when it’s attacking something.”

  She didn’t disagree with Kadaki’s assessment, but she was shamefully reluctant to part with the sword. “But that exchange is what powers it, isn’t it? It wouldn’t be as strong otherwise.”

  “Yes,” Kadaki admitted. “Normal healing spells don’t hold up well as enchantments. They’re magic-hungry and unstable. You might get a single use out of it, and not a very good one even then.” She looked up at Novikke, the lines of her face grave. “There are many things that are possible with magic but are simply not done. There are infinite opportunities for unethical uses of it. It is not a tool of goodness in and of itself. We must make it so ourselves.”

  “Unethical like experimenting with Kuda Varai’s magic?” Novikke asked, without venom, because she guessed Kadaki needed no more chastising.

  She nodded slowly. “Yes. Like that.”

  “Thank you. For healing me.”

  Kadaki dipped her head, letting hair fall in her eyes. “Thank you for protecting Aruna. I saw what happened. He didn’t deserve that.” She paused. “And thank you for protecting Neiryn when he was injured. I’m glad he got to us in time for me to help him.”

  Neiryn arched his eyebrows regally and gave Novikke a dubious look, making sure she knew that he had no part in this expression of gratitude.

  “You’re welcome,” Novikke said, smirking at Neiryn. “So, uh, why are we in a Varai village? And why have they not killed us?”

  “Because this is the closest place we could hide and rest,” Neiryn said. “You had both passed out by the time we left the ruins. We had to carry you here.”

  She imagined what a strange sight that must have been—a Varai
and an Ysuran bringing two unconscious human women to a Varai village. It sounded like the beginning of a joke.

  “It was Aruna’s idea, obviously,” Neiryn said. “I was skeptical. I still am.” He cast his mistrustful gaze into the growing dark around them. “The people here were close enough to feel the disturbances from what happened at the ruins.” He nodded to a house in the distance whose roof had collapsed, presumably from the earthquakes. “He explained to them about how we saved all their sorry lives, and that seems to have placated them. For the moment.”

  The looks the other Varai were giving them made Novikke nervous. Some of them looked merely curious. Many of them looked like they were waiting for the chance to put a sword through them. She picked up the notebook.

 

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