Ashe (Fuse Book 2)

by E. L. Todd

  When they returned to her tree house, Cora pulled out the bag of strawberries and set them on the counter. “Want some?”

  He took a look around the small quarters then helped himself to a seat at the dining table. “No.”

  “Well, I’m starving.” She carried the bag to the seat across from him and ate every single one of them.

  A quizzical expression flashed over his serious face before he glanced at her kitchen, seeing the empty bowls on the counter. “You went to search for food…”

  She bit into the juicy fruit and savored the taste, but she could eat that entire bag and still feel famished. “I found some almonds and other stuff, but I already ate everything.”

  He stared at the counter for a while before he turned back to her, his hands somewhere underneath the table. Serious and still, he just sat there, looking at her like he didn’t know what to make of her. “The elves haven’t taken a liking to you.”

  “Nope.” She left the stem in a bowl and moved on to the next strawberry.

  He gave a slight nod. “I’ll speak to Alfreda.”

  “No, it’s fine. If you draw me a map, I can take care of myself. Don’t have much to do anyway.” She did her best to prevent the damage to her psyche that the bullying caused, but after a week of constant unwelcome, it was difficult. It had pierced her hard armor, through her thick skin, and nearly broke her heart.

  “If you ostracize yourself, you have no chance of integrating with the others.”

  “Well, I’ve tried to be nice and stuff. Doesn’t work.” She continued to eat. “You’re the only person who’s somewhat kind to me.”

  He dropped his gaze, his appearance stoic. “The basis of sharing is taking and giving. When you go to the market, the elves only see you take.”

  “That’s what Alfreda told me to do.” There was nothing she could do to earn civility from this ancient race. Asking questions annoyed them more. Doing what was suggested seemed to piss them off too. There was no solution. “So, I do it, and they practically hiss at me.”

  “Elves don’t hiss—”

  “You know what I mean.”

  In quiet consternation, he stared at her, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

  “What?”

  He brought his hands together above the table and leaned forward slightly, dropping his diplomatic posture for the first time. “If you want to take things from the market, you need to provide something in return. It seems like Alfreda failed to explain that to you by design. The queen has honored her word, but she will make your integration as difficult as possible, so you’ll choose to leave on your own.”

  Obviously. “Yeah, I figured that out all by myself.”

  His stare lingered, studying her face. “Then why do you stay?”

  There was something about him that made her want to confess the truth, even ask for his assistance, but his loyalty lay with the queen—the woman who hated her with all her might. “Because these are my people. Even in their coldness, I have more in common with them than the people in my village. Even if I could go back, I wouldn’t.”

  His gaze remained hard and chiseled, lifeless.

  She released a slow breath, her voice coming out as a whisper. “Why do you hate me so much?”

  It happened instantly, passing with the speed of a shooting star, coming and going like it never happened in the first place. Compassion. “I don’t hate you.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “You can figure that out, Cora.”

  “Because I’m half human?” she asked. “You’re missing the biggest part of that—half.”

  He shook his head slightly.

  “Living in this forest makes it impossible to hold on to hatred and resentment. With every breath I take, the air cleanses my lungs of all that negativity. So, I don’t understand how someone like the queen could hate me so deeply, constantly. There has to be a better reason, but I can’t even imagine what that would be.”

  He dropped his eyes and looked at his hands, unresponsive.

  He knew. “Tell me.”

  His fingers began to massage his knuckles, like they were sore from a lifetime of battles. “She has never confided another reason to me. But I have my theories.”

  “Which are?”

  His fingers spun a ring on his finger as he lifted his gaze to hers. Face-to-face, eye-to-eye, he watched her. “It’s not my place to share, especially when I’m uncertain of their truths.”

  She let out a quick breath, her nostrils flaring.

  He continued to play with his ring.

  Callon was the only frenemy she had, so she wouldn’t risk pushing him away with her attitude. She sheathed it like her sword. “What’s something that I can provide?”

  “What are your skills?”

  “Well, I can hunt, but that’s irrelevant here.”

  His watchful eyes winced slightly, like the thought of a hunt made him sick. “Are you a harpist? Can you sing? Storyteller?”

  She scrunched her eyebrows together and let out a laugh. “A harpist…that’s funny.”

  “Alright, then.” His fingers interlocked together on the table. “What skills can you share?”

  “I’m immune to the Skull Crusher, but that’s probably not what you’re looking for.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Really?”

  She nodded. “Yep. I’ve blacked out from it but have never died.”

  His stare continued, absorbing her face, holding on to every single word she spoke. He had a regal intensity to him, like he could command the people of Eden Star far better than the queen. He was accompanied by a quiet respect, and based on his mannerisms alone, it was obvious that he was well aged.

  “I’m also a blacksmith. I forge weapons in my village—and I’m very good at it.”

  “We have a blacksmith here.”

  “You can’t have two?”

  “We don’t hunt, so we don’t need bows and arrows. We haven’t had a battle in thousands of years, so we don’t need fresh swords to replace the dull ones. There’s no necessity for it.”

  “Well, damn.”

  “Limit the cursing. Elves aren’t fond of it.”

  “Fine. But when it’s just the two of us, I’m not going to bother.”

  His eyes changed again, slightly confused.

  “We’re friends, right?” She really needed a friend, and he seemed like the best candidate to fill that role. Flare and Rush hadn’t contacted her, probably because the magic around the forest was too strong to puncture.

  He didn’t respond.

  Silence trickled on, not the comfortable kind but the awkward kind.

  She knew it was time for him to leave, so she asked for what she needed before he departed. “Can I have my sword back?”

  He pulled in a slow breath at the request and gave a slight shake of his head. “There’s no reason for you to be armed while in Eden Star.”

  “You returned my bow and arrow.”

  “You can use those in other ways. Swords have a single purpose.”

  “You think I’m going to run through the market and strike down every elf I see?” she asked incredulously.

  His softness faded, the hardness of steel returning. “If you want to be accepted into this society, walking around with a sword on your belt is not the way to do it. They already distrust you enough.”

  “I’m not going to carry it with me or use it.”

  “Then why do you want it?”

  Rush’s image came into her mind, a flashback of the first time she’d seen his face in Polox when he came to rescue her from a bad situation. The sword made of dragon scales had scared off the guards long enough for him to save her. “It was a gift.”

  “And you’ll leave it here in your quarters?”

  “Yes.” She wanted to say whatever was necessary to get her way, but she felt guilty for being deceptive, even if it was only slightly. “I also wanted to practice in a meadow or something. I’m honestly not skilled with the sword, but I wo
uld like to be. I would go somewhere private so no one would see me.”

  “Why do you want to learn the sword?” His tone started to deepen, disapproval in both his voice and expression.

  She tried to find the right words to explain this without dumping her quest on his shoulders. “Life may seem perfect in Eden Star. I’ve only been here for a few weeks, and even I’ve forgotten the evil sometimes. But it’s out there, and it’s not going anywhere. One day, it’ll march on these borders. We should all be ready for it.”

  Instead of questioning her further, he glanced at the doorway as if he were prepared to leave. His hands released each other, and his palms flattened against the wooden table to rise to his feet.

  That was when she noticed it.

  The wooden ring around his finger—with the oddly shaped emerald in the center. “That’s my ring.” She slowly rose to her feet, her eyes taking in the jewel a moment longer before she lifted her chin. “Why are you wearing my ring?”

  With squared shoulders and a straight back, he regarded her with shifting eyes, as if he were drawing a sketch of her face in his mind. “It’s not your ring.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew the same ring—just a couple sizes smaller. “This is.” He set it on the table where she could reach it.

  She remembered sitting next to Dorian on the couch and opening the cloth wrapping of the box. Inside was that ring, and she’d never taken it off after it was placed on her hand. She reached for it, examined it, and then slipped it back onto her finger. “What does it mean? Is it just a symbol of the elves?” Her parents must have left it behind with the letter, proving her elven heritage if she ever wished to return to Eden Star. It was basically a birth certificate.

  “No.”

  She lowered her hand, feeling the proper weight returned to her finger. It was like a warm embrace from someone who loved her, someone who wanted her to know where she came from.

  “It’s a symbol of one of the four clans.”

  The table remained between them, her heart starting to pound a little harder when she made the connection herself. “We’re from the same clan.”

  He nodded.

  “Which clan?”

  His eyes turned to the door, as if he were tempted to leave without answering the question, as if obliging her questions was somehow a betrayal to the queen and his people. But he must have argued against it because he turned back to her and speared her with his hard stare. “Riverglade.”

  She sat on the balcony of her tree house, in the wooden chair next to the birdhouse that housed a family of four little sparrows. Purple flowers had grown over the wooden rail, but they didn’t block the view of the floor and the forest beyond.

  Elves would move down the path, usually in pairs, speaking quietly to each other, the sunlight fading under the trees.

  Her eyes dropped to the ring on her finger, her only connection to this place.

  The reason Callon wasn’t as cold as everyone else.

  Without this connection, she had no doubt he would be.

  She let out a quiet sigh, the sounds of the birds fading as the sunlight disappeared further and further. “Rush, I’m not sure I can do this.” She closed her eyes, the feelings overwhelming her, the solitude making her wish to connect with the only person she really trusted—along with Flare.

  “I’d give anything to have you here with me.” She opened her eyes and saw the light fading in the trees, the song of the birds becoming a distant melody. Soon, stars would dot the sky, the moon would glow, and she would feel even more alone.

  Cora. Can you hear me?

  She nearly tipped over in the chair when she heard the voice inside her head.

  Cora? Flare’s voice was distant and quiet, the volume turned way down.

  She wished there were a button in her skull to crank it up. Yes, I hear you. Flare, is that you? Her own voice was practically a scream in her own mind.

  Yes. But quiet your voice. It’s like drums.

  Oh, sorry. She quieted her voice, bringing it to a low level. But I can barely hear you.

  Talking as loud as I can. The connection is weak on my end. Pretty, you never fail to surprise me.

  Tears welled in her eyes at the affection in his voice, the first affection she’d felt in weeks. I miss you so much.

  After a pause, his voice came back. You’re sad.

  She shook her head even though Flare could only hear, not see. I’m unwelcome in Eden Star.

  That will change, Pretty.

  I don’t know about that…

  Be patient. Time is different for them than it is for you. Their memories are long. Their prejudices even longer.

  They’re prejudiced against my genetics. Not much I can do about that. Her age would never improve her features. Her mannerisms and language would never make her appear more elven than human. A line would always be right down the center, a mark that everyone could see.

  Rush is the most distrustful man I’ve ever known—and he trusts you as he trusts me. Have faith in yourself. You’re smart, beautiful, kind. They will see all of that.

  She realized they’d spent this time only talking about her. How are you?

  I ate two bears today. I’m well.

  She chuckled. How are your scales?

  More beautiful than the morning sun. Thank you for asking.

  I can’t wait to see for myself.

  I’ll bathe before we’re reunited so you can see my full glory. On a sunny day, my scales look like fire streaking across the sky because they reflect the light so brilliantly. And when I release my stream of flame, I’m the most ferocious and beautiful thing you’ve ever seen…

  She let him go on and on, smiling as she listened.

  People fear me. But they also revere me.

  As they should.

  I like that you listen to me. Rush doesn’t.

  He has listened to it for hundreds of years so…

  Still fascinating, if you ask me.

  She knew they were both safe, based on Flare’s words, but she still worried. Where are you? You guys okay?

  We’ve settled for the evening in the woods. We’re approaching the hideaway where we’ll meet Bridge.

  I’m glad you made it. How was the journey?

  Could have been better.

  Oh no… What happened?

  We ran into General Noose then escaped—thanks to me. Then we had some Shamans on our tail. Lost them a couple days ago. I burned one of their steeds to death. It was a wonderful sight.

  But you guys are okay—

  Hold on.

  Uh, okay.

  Sorry, Rush is getting impatient. Wants to talk to you.

  Patch him through. The beautiful scenery in front of her faded and her heart beat faster, like drums in a song, growing louder and quicker as a crescendo approached. Her lips felt an invisible heat, a kiss that was weeks old. There was a flutter in her stomach, pounding in her temples, a spike in her nerves.

  She waited.

  And waited.

  There was nothing. Hello?

  Still nothing.

  Rush? Her voice turned weak, afraid she wouldn’t hear him.

  Flare’s voice returned. Sorry, Pretty. It’s not working.

  Her heart fell into her stomach in disappointment. Oh…maybe when you’re in a different place, it’ll work better.

  Perhaps.

  Just…tell him I miss him.

  He misses you too.

  He said that?

  No. But trust me, he does.

  Eight

  The Hideaway

  “Is she okay?”

  Yes.

  “She specifically said that?”

  Yes. She’s safe and unharmed.

  Rush released the air from his lungs as he approached the city of Karth. The sun had disappeared, and the lights from the torches illuminated the high walls. He deviated from the path and took a different route, staying to the right and nearing the bottom of the shore.

  But she’s sad.


  Rush stopped in a bushy area, protected from the boulders and trees behind him. When the sun rose, they would begin the long trek through the caves of the cliffside, the unknown route to the hideaway on the other side. “Why?”

  They don’t care for her.

  “She’s a little rough around the edges.”

  That’s not why.

  “I know why, Flare.” Her human ancestry would always hold her back. It was unlikely she would ever convince them to help in their effort, but he admired her for trying. “They obviously have some fondness for her if they’ve allowed her to live in Eden Star.”

  True.

  “They’ll come around.” He opened his pack and got settled for the night. He lay on his back, his eyes on the stars. “I wish I could talk to her…”

  Told her you missed her.

  “What? Why the hell would you do that?”

  Because you do.

  “I never said those words.”

  Actions speak louder than words.

  “You asshole—”

  She said she missed you first.

  He turned quiet.

  The next morning, Rush climbed over the rocks until he found the entrance to the hidden tunnel. A branch was pulled from his pack, and he dipped it in an oily substance before he lit it with a match.

  I could have done that for you.

  “More work than it’s worth.” He approached the tunnel with the lit torch raised. “Ready?”

  Flare gave a loud growl in discomfort. Hurry.

  “I always do.” Rush stepped into the dark tunnel, the passage he’d taken numerous times, and moved as quickly as he could.

  Flare immediately cowered in his mind, moving into a fetal position, becoming as small as possible. He withdrew his connection, his duress pressing on every single edge they shared. Pain. Anxiety. Fear.

  Rush felt it too. “It’ll be alright, Flare.” He moved quicker, trying to get them through the passages underground as quickly as possible. The pain traversed their connection, making Rush feel exactly what his dragon felt. “Just think about your beautiful scales, alright?”

  Flare was silent.