Page 18 of The Oracle's Journey

Lhoris found what he was looking for and turned back to me. He set a flask on the bedroll between us and laid down something wrapped in waxed cloth. Then he touched the rope binding my ankles, the ends flowing into the knot and unwrapping. Such a fascinating process to watch, but I was more relieved that I could sit cross-legged. He draped a napkin across my lap and then unwrapped the waxed cloth to reveal a hank of bread and hard cheese. How did they store cheese without it going bad?

“I thought you might be hungry.” He undid the lid of the flask and offered it to me. “The soup earlier was good, but I have perhaps pushed you a bit too far into exhaustion.”

I took the flask and sniffed. “Brandy?”

“Yes. Did you want bread or cheese? Between the alcohol and having something solid in your stomach, you should sleep soundly despite the stress.”

“Yes, please,” I said with a little smirk. Had Lobikno passed along the idea of alcohol and cheese?

Lhoris set to cutting the food into manageable pieces, and I looked over at the carriage. Are you kidding me? I mouthed at my audience. Emmelina grinned from the window and gave me a thumbs up. Lobikno nodded gravely from the top of the coach, either unaware or unbothered by the princess’s enthusiasm. Both of you? I mouthed, eyes flicking back and forth between the pair. Emmelina nodded her head and kept grinning, then Lobikno gave me a sharp, unsettling smile.

I took a large mouthful of the brandy and tried to collect myself. Lhoris’ brows knit together, and he glanced at the carriage, possibly sensing their attention. Lobikno gave him a thumbs up. Lhoris balked.

“Yes, we have an audience,” I said tartly. “I think the princess got it in her head to play matchmaker and somehow Lobikno is in on it.”

Lhoris frowned, looking genuinely distressed. “Hm, that is unsettling.” I handed him the flask, and he took a deep pull, then a second before he added, “I don’t have enough brandy, considering the implication. The wasps were a collaboration between them, just so you know. Lobikno didn’t realize it until after.”

My skin crawled when I recalled the size of the insects. “What were those wasps?”

“Pissed-off!” laughed Lobikno.

Lhoris snapped at his brother in their language. I imagined that it was something like Don’t you have anything better to do? I chuckled. Lobikno made an obscene gesture at Lhoris and called him a prick but scooted out of sight.

“Are the rest of your people like Lobikno and the others here? Mean and cold?” I asked as I ate, allowing curiosity to get the better of me. The brothers were so very different it hardly seemed they were related. And I’d never met other elves before. This was my first chance to learn about any of them.

Lhoris frowned a little bit and cocked his head in thought. “We have a reputation for being that way. It is a societal norm and nurtured, but not everyone’s nature is compatible.”

“Like you?” I asked.

“Oh, I can be cruel,” he said with a bitter little half-smile, absently rubbing his long fingers over the forest scene engraved on the flask.

I sighed and spoke with a harsh edge, “Everyone is capable of being cruel.”

As if conceding the fact, he nodded and offered the flask again. I accepted and took another mouthful.

Lhoris cocked his head at me. “Can I ask you something?” I nodded and nibbled on the food. He tucked loose strands of hair behind my ear and said, “What happened to your ears?”

His gentle touch delighted me enough that I struggled to keep my expression neutral. “I suppose that question was inevitable.” I sighed. It wasn’t something I enjoyed revisiting. “My mother had this idea that shaving the tips off would make me seem more human and help me fit in. But I think she was mostly resentful. I wasn’t more than a baby when she did it, so I don’t remember anything. She gave me away to The Order of the Mother when I was about five or six. I’ve had an excellent life since then.” I had, hadn’t I? Despite the scars and the lack of home and family, it had been a better life than the one I’d have led with my wretch of a mother, surely. I had a purpose that suited my conscience and spent most of my days enjoying nature. Some might call it destitution, but to me, it was freedom.

Lhoris' forehead creased and he rubbed his thumb over the scarred shell of my ear. There was such sorrow in his eyes. Then I recalled what Emmelina had said about a man that was sad about my ears. That he called me Oz. The realization it might have been a prediction was a little chilling, though Lhoris hadn’t called me by my whole name, let alone a shortened version.

“It had to have been painful, no matter how old you were,” he said, wincing. “Our ears are sensitive to the tides of magic and touch, as well as sound. Like the whiskers of a cat, they help us orient ourselves. Though yours might not have been a useful size in some regards.” Lhoris’ brow pinched and he seemed to consider something for a few heartbeats. “They wouldn’t have been as long as mine.” He smiled a little. “They probably would have had a very slightly rounded tip, so not as sharp as mine. Very … cute, I believe is the word. Though you’re beyond lovely as you are.”

Something in my chest wrenched. I didn’t often think about my ears. Thankfully I didn’t see them unless I was looking in a reflection, but I couldn’t help but feel something essential was missing when I considered them. Sure, it seemed to hide my mixed heritage from humans and dwarves, but had it really been a boon all these years? Then here was this elf, trying to be kind and give them back to me in a sense. His words confirmed I was truly missing out on something meant to be essential to my existence. It was validating and heartbreaking and I felt so seen. So vulnerable. I was just too tired to control the emotion it stirred.

Lhoris must have seen it in my face. He gaped at me for a moment, then with a wolfish grin and a suggestive lift of an eyebrow, he said, “You can touch mine if you like.”

Lobikno made a not-so-quiet gagging sound, and the pair of us laughed.

“Maybe when we have a little more privacy,” I murmured, grateful for the distraction.

Capping the flask, Lhoris glanced around to see if anyone else was watching. Then he leaned closer and whispered, “You can sleep in the carriage if you’d like, but you’re welcome to stay here with me.” When he pulled back, he offered me a smile only big enough to show his dimples. He looked so hopeful.

I tried hard not to let my mouth pull up in a grin. He’d been maneuvering me to this point of exhaustion. He’d even admitted that he may have pushed me too far. Could this have been his actual goal? Not to keep me too worn out to cause trouble, but to take advantage of my being so addled. Though the way he asked and not ordered, the look in his eyes, it was just so earnest. My gut said he wasn’t trying to do anything sinister, and it had never led me astray in the past. And damn it, I was curious. So, I tried to match his energy, tired as I was, and agreed. “I accept your invitation.”

His eyes sparkled and he cleared away the food and flask. “Is there anything you need before we settle in?” he asked. I shook my head. To my surprise, he undid the rope at my wrists. I laid down and he curled himself around me, pulling a light blanket over us. He pulled me in closer, kissed the back of my ear, which gave me goosebumps, and murmured, “Sleep well, Oz.”

And there it was, the second part of Emmelina’s quazi-prediction. I should try to escape now that I was only bound by his arms, but I didn’t want to. The exhaustion was too great, and it felt … right.

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