Page 11 of An Honored Vow

I scoffed and opened my mouth to retort, but I couldn’t. Minutes after battle and Elaran’s leathers were pristine. She wore no shirt underneath her fighting vest but even her tan skin was clean. Not a scratch or drop of blood. Her perfectly done updo held together by her gold weapon only made it more annoying.

She bit her lip knowingly as she smiled.

I cocked my jaw to the side and let my shoulders slump forward. “We need to go.”

The boy sucked his thumb. His ears had grown into their round shape with no scar along the front and only a tiny little line of stitching left behind it. If he was lucky enough to survive to adulthood, time would wear the scar away completely.

My skin prickled along the edge of every name I’d collected. If only time could wash away all scars.

“I’m sorry you lost a friend today.” There was no pretense to Elaran’s words. Her knowing smile had fallen to a straight, serious line across her mouth.

My throat burned hot. I had spent the past two days planning our escape with the Halflings and imagining Victoria’s face when she first laid eyes on Myrelinth. I was looking forward to when she’d get to see all the faces of the ones she saved over the years alive and free—at least as well as they could be with Damien still on the throne. Some of them even had children now.

Children Victoria would never get to meet. Something rumbled in that dark, rocky bottom in the depths of myself, the one that I had fought so hard to climb out of. Lash. Maerhal. Nikolai. And now Victoria. Every loss had set a crack along the ground of it, fracturing it little by little. I didn’t know how many more losses I could take until that dark place I kept so contained crumbled into a hungry pit that sucked every last bit of hope out of me.

I grew used to the searing pain in my throat; it was a reminder of how much I’d already fought and won. I could fight a little more.

“I’m sorry too.” I drew a breath of cold air to ease my throat. “But there’s no other way she would have wanted to go. She was a protector to the very end.”

Elaran bit her cheek and didn’t say anything, but I knew she wasn’t one to let words sit on her tongue.

“Say what you wish.” I was too riddled with grief for offense, and I didn’t have the energy to wonder what Elaran wanted to say.

She glanced at me then down at Julian. “She was hit by one of the soldiers.”

I winced. What man would strike a woman so frail?

“He paid a hefty price; she threw him over the edge for it.” There was a note of admiration in Elaran’s voice that made me smile. “But he split her lip.” Elaran paused, running a finger over the curve of Julian’s ear. “She was bleeding.” Elaran turned to me, her green eyes fierce and serious. “She bled red, not amber.”

I huffed a laugh. “That’s to be expected. She is—was—Mortal.” Tears misted my eyes as I corrected myself.

Elaran stared at the ground in disbelief. Her nostrils flared, trying to sort through which question to ask first.

“But how could you trust her? With something as important asourpeople’s lives?” Elaran stopped walking. We were nearing the portal too quickly for her to get the answers she wanted.

She turned, lifting her chin as she looked at me. As she judged me and my decisions. I didn’t blame her. If it were anyone else partnering with Mortals, I would have questions too.

I shrugged. “Because she trusted me first.”

Elaran’s jaw snapped shut, her feet rooted to the ground like she was an earth wielder tethering herself to that spot.

“Before Victoria started her life ferrying Halfling children in and out of hiding, she had her own.”

Elaran’s sharp nose wrinkled. “Halflings or children?”

“Both.” The word sunk to that dark place inside me as the memories of those early years came to the surface.

“Had …” Elaran’s lips clung to the word for much longer than they needed as she realized what had happened. “They were discovered?”

I nodded. “The eldest was named Idris. He was a young boy when it happened. He was working for an apothecary in town when he nicked his palm shearing somewinvraleaves. The apothecary saw amber and reported him.”

Elaran blinked and her face turned sour. “She married a Halfling?”

I nodded.

“How could she not know?” Elaran said to herself more than to me.

“She did.” My throat tightened. “Her husband’s name was Landyn. He was a Halfling who escaped the fields in Volcar and somehow convinced his agent that he was dead. He looked Mortal, and no one ever questioned it when he settled in Silstra. Then he walked into the butcher shop looking for a job and found his wife instead. Vic never told me when he told her or how, but she knew before the marriage happened and married him anyway.”

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