Page 20 of This Midsummer Heart
I suck in a breath, my heart aching for him. It’s not just that the dagger marks him as king of the Dark Elves; it is an heirloom passed through his family. His father gifted it to him just before he left this realm, going on the long walk of the elves from which there can be no return to this plane.
“The money,” he adds with a groan. “They took everything.”
The money you took from me.
I don’t bother to tell him that they’ve just stolen a sack full of oak leaves and acorns, glamoured to appear as promissory notes and gold and silver coins. As if I would leave real money out in plain sight for Auberon to take! Our remaining funds are safely tucked into my bodice, and spelled several different ways to both hide them and curse any who tries to take them.
I feel sorry for him anyway. Being robbed is a bitter thing for such a prideful man.
“Bandits?” I ask gently.
His reply is tart as green gooseberries.
“What gave it away?”
Instantly, my pity for him sours. I stand, my wings straightening with me, reflecting my indignation. “Up with you, then. We don’t want to be here when they come back.”
Auberon is slow to move. With a huff, I reach out, offering him my hand. He takes it, his callouses jogging memories I don’t want to revisit as his hand wraps around mine. And then his other hand is on me, sliding across my back, under my wings—and then he is standing andIam the one bowed as he folds me in half with his weight, using me as a crutch.
“Morgana take you, get off of me!” I cry.
With a grunt, Auberon’s weight leaves my back, though not before jostling my wings. The touch of another on my wings feels as personal as a caress, and not something I want to feel from Auberon. Again, I straighten, shaking out my wings.
Auberon regards me almost as if I puzzle him, gripping his ribs all the while.
“Do you think you can ride?” I ask him, brushing at my skin as a bug lands on me. No doubt it looks as though I’m trying to scrub away his touch.
“I could manage. Can Giselda carry us both?”
“Of course she can.”
I give my wings one final flutter, pull down the ward I cast around us, and then begin to lead my mare out from the woods.
“It only took four of them to bring me down,” Auberon says, his voice low. “Humans.Mortals.Just four of them. And there are others—many others in their company, by the sounds of it. They wouldn’t have left me if some of their companions hadn’t called them to see to a caravan on another road.”
“Then we must get ahead of them. We should be safe once we’re in Trident Wood.”
“You, admitting to the strength of elves?”
My nostrils flare. Fortunately, he saves me from making a peevish reply.
“If there are as many of those bandits as I think, even the elves will have trouble defending their homes. But they wouldn’t dare cross them in their own lands.”
“They dared to attack you,” I point out.
“Four against one, with their friends somewhere out in the forest. It’s not the same as trekking through elven woods with hidden archers in the treetops.”
Our almost-argument comes to a halt as we reach the road. I hop into Giselda’s saddle with the help of my wings, while Auberon needs several tries.
I should’ve bound his ribs. I should’ve done a great many things. For one thing, I would’ve studied healing magic more—even if I wasn’t very good at it—had I ever guessed I’d need to go on a journey like this.
I hold my tongue the rest of the way to Mircose, because I don’t want to say what I’m really thinking.
There was a time when no band of humans, no matter how large, would take on a single elf, let alone one with dark elf blood in his veins. For while they might defeat that elf, the cost to them would be dearer than any would pay.
These are desperate times indeed.
Despite every instinct telling me not to tarry in Mircose, I have no choice but to ask for a healer. I stash Auberon in an alley as I do it, with Giselda watching over him. With his blue-tinted skin, he draws as much attention as I feared. I have no choice but to waste magic on a spell to deflect attention, a sort of warding that requires too much concentration to maintain while going about the town.
