Finn would talk about his mother, but there were times he would bring up his father. He didn’t have many good memories of his father. He would beat Finn when he got angry. Scream and yell at him for every little thing. “You bring shame to our family,” he often told Finn. It was no wonder why when Finn left and never spoke to him again. Serra often imagined Finn’s father was dead or in some drunken stupor.
“What is all this for?” Theren asked, breaking the awkward silence.
She opened her eyes as tears filled her vision. “This is for my family. They were killed in a fire when I was young.”
He nodded. “I remember you mentioning that. Is today the… anniversary of their passing?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been told it is good to honor your dead, but I’m afraid I don’t remember much of my family to do this. I don’t even remember their faces.”
She couldn’t imagine never knowing her parents. Their memory was all she had left of them. The fire consumed everything, but it wouldn’t take away her memories. Her mama’s smile. Her papa’s laugh. The way every morning when Mama cooked their breakfast and Papa kissed her, rubbing her stomach and whispering something to in her ear that made her giggle and blush. Her parents had loved each other and wanted to grow a large family together. Serra was always teased by her mama that she would have to babysit at least four younger siblings. At the time, she dreaded it. Now, she wanted nothing more than to have that life.
Finn did his best, but a dwarf raising a human girl was a difficult task as she grew. It wasn’t long before she was twice his size. He was thankful she was small despite her age. He dealt with her adolescent, rebellious nature into the woman she was now. The heartbreaks and tears and nightmares. He was there with her through all of it, no matter how bad things got.
She knew she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. She was determined to pay him back and give him the life he always wanted. A mansion, money, and all the wine and ale he could ever want. The life he deserved.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly then wiped her tear-streaked cheeks. “I thought I cried all my tears over the past eleven years, but it seems I didn’t. Thank you for coming with me.”
He shifted. “I feel as though I am imposing. Are you sure the dwarf isn’t more… suitable for this?”
“His name is Finn, and I wanted you to come so that we could know each other better. Plus, I figured you wanted to get out of the city for a while.” Considering he was now a free elf, he probably wanted nothing more than to leave the city entirely. “I know you like it here. I just thought…” She trailed off, feeling her throat swell.
He placed his hand on her shoulder, making her face him. “Thank you. For everything. I did not… expect all of this to happen. You were kind to me when we first met, and now you found a way to buy my freedom. If my being here helps you, then I am honored you invited me.”
The faces of the executed slaves and the group of elves she saved from Grom’s new partner raced in her mind, twisting her stomach. “You helped me see the truth.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What truth?”
“The truth that… something is very wrong with our country. Slavery was abolished in Crelia not too long ago, but the country seems to be flourishing despite it. Sostar wants to stick to the old ways and it’s wrong. Your people, Theren. Your people are being enslaved and killed. Something has to change.” It was a truth that boiled the acid inside her stomach since she came to this city. Her veins turned cold every time she saw a slave that was abused by his or her master.
The mark on their forehead, defining them. Labeling them as property. What she didn’t understand was why this was still happening. More importantly, what could she do to stop it?
She shook her head then went to stand. “Come on, let’s get—”
“Serra!” he shouted.
Before she could turn, someone grabbed her and pulled her hands behind her back, immediately tying them together. She struggled to get out of the grasp, trying to knock the attacker off his feet. Her legs were kicking at the figure behind her, but he lifted her off the ground and slammed her back down. Having not prepared for the impact, pain zinged up her ankles.
She looked toward Theren, who was pulled off the rock and tackled on the ground. Her voice cried his name, but nothing but a muffled sound could be heard because her attacker covered her mouth. Theren screamed when he landed on his back. His wounds were still healing, and that impact had just torn them open. These men would kill him before they even had the chance to put a knife to his throat.
“Quiet, human!” one of her attackers snapped. “Cooperate with us and your slave won’t be hurt.”
Serra stood still, watching in horror as they put a sack over Theren’s head. The last thing she wanted was for him to get hurt, but listening to these men could also mean their deaths. She tried to decide what to do.
They called her “human,” she noticed.
The man who spoke earlier stepped in front of her view. His face was covered by a mask, hiding his mouth and hair, but she could see parts of his ears, confirming her suspicions.
These attackers were elves. She could name any number of reasons why an elf would want to attack a human, but she couldn’t think of a reason why they would attack one of their own.
She relaxed the best she could, offering a surrender to the elves. “That’s good, human. Usually, your kind fights us until we have no other choice but to kill you. You must greatly value your slave.”
“He’s not my slave,” she tried to say despite her covered mouth.
He nodded to the elf holding her. The elf removed his hand to let her speak. “What was that, human?”
She took a few deep breaths, staring past the elf’s shoulders toward Theren, who was still struggling against the others. Small blots of blood stained his shirt. “He’s not my slave.”
He narrowed his eyes, then slapped her across the face. Her left cheek stung. She hoped he would believe her so that they wouldn’t hurt Theren. He was her friend. He was a free man. They had no idea what happened to him or what he had gone through.
She didn’t care if they were once slaves. She would tear them apart for this.
Serra listened closely to her surroundings. The sounds of the waves seemed to grow louder as they traveled along the beach. Careful of her steps, she discovered the sand beneath her boots had turned into something solid and the sounds of her boots echoed throughout wherever they were. It was safe to assume they were in some type of cave, but she hadn’t seen any whenever she came to the beach. She wondered if there was a secret passage somewhere.
Her entire head was covered, making it impossible to see where she was going or if Theren was all right. She prayed that his wounds weren’t as bad as she thought. Caden was nowhere close enough to help him if he started to bleed out.
Caden. Finn. Did they know where she was? Could they help them out of this? Finn knew she was going to the beach, but when would he start looking for her? There were a few years when she set the memorial and didn’t return until nightfall. The chances of them looking for them were not high until it reached evening. And the chances were even lower that they could find them in this place.
She needed answers. “Where are you taking us?” The elf shoved her forward.
“To our leader. She would want to meet you and your slave,” a different voice said. It was closer to her ear, making her sure it came from the man behind her. If these elves had a leader, that meant this entire group was part of a gang or a cult. The question now was what was their purpose?
“I told you he’s not my—” A hand smacked the back of her head.
“Silence, human! You will get your answers soon enough.” She obliged them despite the ringing pain in her head. She made a special note to repay them for that.
With little other choice, she remained quiet as she was led to their leader. She counted the number of turns. Right. Right. Left. Right. All of which formed a small map in
her mind as she chanted them in silence. That small piece of information may save their lives during their escape.
A sharp pain twisted in her chest, making it difficult to take a deep breath. She would need to find a way out of this. They may spare Theren as he was her “slave,” but it seemed unlikely they would give her the same mercy. She was the enemy in their eyes. A human. The race that enslaved theirs.
She wished Finn were here. He would know what to say or do in this situation. As a member of a dying race himself, he could convince the leader that she was no threat and that she has been saving slaves, not taking them.
But he wasn’t here. She was alone with Theren injured. She prayed that he was all right.
What am I going to do? Her mind raced with possibilities. She could wait until they removed the sack over her head then trip on the ground. With that, she could knock down one of her opponents, get Theren, and escape. She clenched her fists. There was the matter of her tied hands. Without her knife to cut them, she wouldn’t make it far before they killed her on the spot. This would require improvisation.
Voices murmured down the cavern, some in a language she was unfamiliar with. She heard that most of the elves that knew the old language were gone. Only the oldest members wrote and spoke it fluently. The fact that she could be hearing it now meant that this was a group of elves who have been part of this… cult for a long time.
It didn’t matter, though. They were still taking Theren and her on false accusations. Attacked them.
There must be a way out of this.
Light illuminated through the sack as she was led to a room after the next turn. The voices stopped when they stood her in front of someone. She couldn’t make out the face through the sack, but she assumed it was their leader. The eyes of the others in the group felt as though she was being watched during her execution. She half-expected them to announce the charges against her.
The sack slipped off, making her squint at the sudden brightness of the torches surrounding a large chair in the back of the room. Over her shoulder, she saw four rows of tables and two small round ones at the far edge of the room. It was a much larger place then she anticipated. She faced their leader.
The elf was an old female with long grey hair falling down her back, touching the chair underneath her. Wrinkles covered her face, but her eyes seemed young. Full of power and fierceness. A large light-colored scar touched the top of her forehead to her left cheek. She was a woman who had been beaten and, obviously, won whatever battle she was in. In another situation, Serra would’ve enjoyed listening to her tale.
“Who are you?” she said calmly, giving her a chance to be respectful or to give her an excuse to spit rather than answer her.
Serra glanced at Theren, who took a step forward. “Sharlea,” he said then bowed. “This has been a misunderstanding. This woman does not own me as her slave.”
“But she is human,” one said behind her. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and carried a hard expression on his face. He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword as he glared at Serra.
“Let him speak,” Sharlea commanded. She leaned back in her chair, interested in hearing what he had to say. With the wave of her hand, the elf holding Theren cut his ropes.
Rubbing his wrists, Theren continued, “Her name is Serra Blackburn. She saved me from my master as I received punishment. Her friend Caden convinced my master to sell me to please her. He stitched my wounds. They only bought me so that I could be free. This woman is not our enemy.”
Sharlea stood up from her chair then approached Serra. Her hand grabbed her chin then turned her face side to side, as if examining her complexion. “This human saved you.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“She did. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for her.” His emerald green eyes fell upon hers. They said a silent promise that things would be fine and he would protect her no matter what.
Sharlea released her face but continued to stare at her. “What is your interest in slaves, Miss Serra Blackburn?”
This was her chance. Her only chance to convince the old woman she wasn’t a threat. “I don’t believe anyone should be a slave. No child should grow up beaten and starved. No families should be ripped apart. I came to this city to find a new home and worked for a man named Grom. He is involved in some type of slave trade of your people. I stopped it. Just as I plan to find a way to stop all elven enslavement.”
Sharlea tilted her head to the side, curious. “And why would a human want to help us elves?”
The fire that ended her parents’ lives entered her mind, and the men who started it. Their blood covered her hands as she choked the life out of them years later. She would never forget that face. The face of her parents’ murderer. Serra stared down at the old woman. She barely reached Serra’s chin. “Because I know what it’s like to have everything taken from you.”
A sparkle gleamed in her eyes as the tiniest smile curled her lips. Even if she didn’t believe Serra entirely, she believed the hate and pain that flowed through her soul. She returned to her chair, sitting tall as she contemplated her decision.
Theren watched her. His shoulders shifted, uncomfortable with the expression on the old woman’s face. When he turned to Serra, his expression seemed confused. He had no idea what she did on her last job with Grom nor what had happened to her to have so much built up anger. Instead of silently judging her, he simply offered her a single nod. He understood that it was a conversation for another time. She was grateful for his understanding.
“Ethrond,” Sharlea ordered with a snap of her fingers, “release the girl. I don’t think she will be a threat to us.”
She turned to Serra. “At least not yet.” A mocking challenge, knowing she could easily change her mind.
The elf stood in front of her. He was the same one who had threatened her when she was captured. Serra’s eyes narrowed as she glared up at him. Reluctantly, he did as he was commanded and cut her ropes and then passed her with a sneer on his face.
Theren moved beside her and grabbed her hands, examining her wrists. His thumbs gently rubbed the redness caused by the ropes, as if they would magically disappear with his touch. When he saw Sharlea and the others staring, he dropped her hands. The suddenness of it made her arms feel heavy.
Sharlea shifted in her chair. “Theren, I didn’t expect you to stand up for a human, much less care for one.” Something in her tone sounded accusing. It was as if his small kindness to Serra was blasphemy. Was it because she was a human? His head lowered, which only caused her to smile. “Does this mean you will finally join us? Will you fight for me?”
Serra stared at him, confused as to what silent conversation had been made between them. Was it so strange, considering the circumstances, that he cared for her as a friend? He made it clear to Sharlea that he wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for her. Did that save her as much as it hurt him?
“Yes,” he said simply. “As long as you pass this same offer to Serra. She wants to fight against the humans as much as we do. She made that clear when she saved those slaves and my life. I will only join if she does.”
Sharlea raised an eyebrow and then turned to Serra. Something in her expression gave away her thoughts that Serra would outright refuse, but that wouldn’t be the case. “I will. Just tell me what I have to do.”
Whispers were exchanged behind her. Whether it was good or bad remained to be seen, but it was clear they didn’t expect her—a human—to want to offer her help. What have I gotten myself into?
“I accept.” She stood up from her chair, rubbing her temple. “But I must bid you two farewell. Ethrond, Aravar, make sure our newest members find their way back home. Return to me by sunrise and we can begin discussing your assignments.” And with that, the two elves shoved Serra and Theren backwards toward the doorway they came in.
Theren refused to look Serra’s way as if he knew the questions that lingered on her face. Whatever had happened underneath the surface of the e
ntire event, there was something he couldn’t share with her right now.
Ethrond and Aravar only took them to the far edge of the city before deeming it close enough for them to make it home without their escorts. Ethrond reminded them of the orders they’d received from Sharlea then left. Serra made a vulgar gesture toward them when they turned to leave.
The dark cover of the night would make it easy for them to return without hassle, but Theren walked ahead of Serra before she could ask him questions. Is your back all right? Who’s Sharlea? What in the hell was all that about? What is this “rebellion?” Every time she caught up to him, he walked faster. He knew she had a ton of questions, and he didn’t want to answer any of them right now.
It was too dark to see clearly, but the stains on Theren’s shirt covered his entire left side, from his rib cage down to his hips. He must’ve been in a lot of pain. She felt stupid and selfish for wanting to bother him with her questions. She kept her distance, avoiding looking in his direction.
Her head throbbed as they made their way back to the Square Serpent, making her wish for the comfort of her bed. This day needed to end.
Despite it being the middle of the week, the bar was busy. Stiff looked like he was between wanting to scream and jump for joy. His balding head looked so red he looked as though he had been banging it on the wall. But busy times meant more money for him. At this rate, he would be able to hire more help.
People called him over left and right and Serra noticed a waitress she hadn’t seen before. Her curly red hair was pulled back into a small ponytail, keeping it out of her face as she spoke to the patrons. Freckles were scattered all over her cheeks and nose, making her look young and full of life.
When she saw Serra and Theren, her smile faded only slightly. “Hello! Welcome to the Square Serpent! Please sit anywhere you like!” she chirped. Theren said nothing but walked right past her toward their room upstairs. The girl’s mouth gaped open.
Rise of the Champion (The Champion Book 1) Page 10
