Page 48 of The Arrow and the Alder

Alder did not have a sword, nor did anyone offer one, and Seph found herself holding her breath as Serinbor whirled and stabbed, taking out his pain and fury while Alder ducked and leaned and dodged. But soon enough, Alder caught Serinbor’s wrist, knocked the sword from his hand, and kicked it away.

It scraped as it spun along the cobblestones, out of reach.

Alder looked hard at Serinbor, as though silently asking if they were finished. If he could let it go. In answer, Serinbor slammed his forehead to Alder’s nose.

Seph fleetingly wondered if this was how Alder had broken it the first time.

Alder released Serinbor’s wrist and reeled back, unbalanced, while his opponent seized the opportunity, yelling and barreling headfirst into Alder.

A few of the other kith jumped aside as Serinbor and Alder tumbled right through them and fell to the ground in a tangle.

Which was when—finally—Evora intervened. “Rian. Banon.” Two figures stepped forward and pulled the men apart. Mostly, they pulled Serinbor away from Alder and held him back to make sure he didn’t try to attack the Weald Prince again.

Blood trickled from Alder’s nose, which he dabbed lightly upon his sleeve as though it were nothing more than an inconvenience. Meanwhile, Serinbor’s bottom lip was cracked open and bleeding down his unforgiving chin.

“And to think there was a time when you both would have died for the other.” Evora glared at them, though favoring Serinbor with the sternest look. “You can sort this out before the elders.”

Serinbor grabbed a fistful of his coat and held it against his lip to staunch the blood flow. “Oh, he is not coming with us.”

“He is your prince.”

“He forfeited that claim a long time ago.”

Evora moved to stand before Serinbor. “And yet it is still his claim by blood, whether you wish to honor it or not. You are not in a position to take that from our people.”

Serinbor’s eyes narrowed. “Your fidelity to him clouds your judgment.”

“And bitterness sours yours,” Evora shot back, and Serinbor’s expression darkened. “It is for the elders to test his motives, and regardless of guilt or innocence, you know very well thatshewill want to hear what he has to say.”

Serinbor held her gaze one long and furious moment, then relented. “Fine,” he snapped. “But the mortal stays.”

His words rang through the courtyard like a death sentence, and Seph wondered if this would be the end for her. Alder had vowed to bring her here, to his home, and he’d fulfilled that vow. He owed her nothing more. Seph had saved his life—yes—but he’d also saved hers, many times over. Plus, she had nothing left to bargain.

Alder looked at her for the first time since the other kith had arrived, his expression haughty, indifferent, as though she were nothing more than an insignificant mortal.

Seph felt equal parts fury and hurt. She did not give trust easily, and she’d begun to trust Marks––Alder, despite herself. Thiskith. She should have known better.

Never trust a kith.

Seph was a fool, and she’d learned nothing.

The gray in Alder’s eyes shifted, the creases pulled, and then he glanced away. Not to anyone or anything—just away, as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her another second.

So it surprised Seph when Alder said, “The mortal comes with me.”

It surprised Evora too, and she frowned as she glanced between them.

“I don’t think you understand,” Serinbor hissed. “Mortals are not permitted to come where?—”

Alder opened the satchel and tossed it before them all. It landed upon the cobblestones with the coat spilling out of it, reflecting a prism of color, as if he’d unleashed a rainbow in this colorless world.

Rys’s ring tingled upon her chest.

“Where did you get that?” asked either Rian or Banon. Seph didn’t know who was whom, but everyone gazed upon that coat with astonishment.

“It belonged to her grandfather,” Alder answered evenly, not looking at Seph. “I was bringing the coat here to find answers, along with the mortal who kept it hidden. Why else do you think it took me so long to return?”

Seph’s gaze shot from the coat to Alder. Was it true? Was that really why he’d finally allowed her to come? But then why had he kept trying to be rid of her?

---