Page 18 of Cinder
“Done,” Elias said without hesitation.
“Undone!” Henrik snapped. “He should return with coin.”
Elias looked put out. “He came all this way.”
“We should help him,” Johan added, his deep voice so soft that it seemed like Cin wasn’t meant to hear it at all.
Still, Henrik seemed unconvinced.
“My flock are good at searching the woods. They can bring you herbs, flowers, berries, or lost things from the trade road.”
“What on earth are we supposed to do with a collection from the forest welivein?” Henrik grumbled.
Elias shot him a look. “Johan gave us a home and expected nothing in return. We’ve lost so much. A little more color and nature in our house will make up for your sour expressions.”
Henrik’s annoyance dropped at that, a guilty look replacing it. Behind him, Johan squeezed Elias’s shoulder. It seemed to settle things.
Henrik shifted his sullen expression away from Cin. “This once, we’ll take what your birds offer.”
A tremble of exhilaration ran through Cin. He took a breath, and looked expectantly back at the woods.
For a moment, Cin’s flock merely twittered amongst themselves. Perdition gave Cin’s ear a nibble, then took off into the air. Every bird followed, Lacey and Ragimund taking up at the end with a final twirl around Cin’s head, ruffling his hair before vanishing into the branches. Now, he had only to wait. His nerves told him to pace, but the elves and their human still watching him made that feel rude.
He turned to examining their little home instead. It gave no sign as to where they’d come from, only that they were here now, starting over in this little clearing so deep into the wood, it seemed they'd taken every precaution to stop their past life in chains from catching back up to them.
Elias cleared his throat. “Would you like some tea, while we wait?”
“Hm—yes?” Cin replied, cursing himself for getting distracted. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
The inside of the cabin was just as bare as it had appeared looking in, its plain walls and simple furnishings doing little to cozy the place up. Elias offered Cin a seat at the table and quickly put on the tea, Johan and Henrik joining as the steeping finished. Elias poured Cin a cup. Staring at the lovely brown drink, he thought of the tales where monstrous people of the woods trapped their victims with food, but this seemed so far removed from any magical terror Cin had heard tell of. The trio who sat before him were far too goodly, and yet not quite goodly enough to be monsters in disguise.
“Are you liking it here?” Cin asked, taking a sip of his tea. It was nice—no sugar or cream, but a little dab of fresh honey made up for that. “Not many visitors, I gather.”
“As Henrik mentioned, you’re the first,” Elias confirmed. “But that’s all right with us. We’re enjoying our solitude. And each other.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” Cin said, and tried to shake the lingering claws of his earlier jealousy.
His life had been easier and fairer than theirs in every way. He had no reason to want this—this tiny home deep in the woods, where his drafts would still go unfixed if he couldn’t learn to repair them himself and there was no one to be ignored by since there was no town and no one to watch because there were no people to liberate from the bastards in their lives. Though he supposed there was still at least one human bastard on the prowl, even here.
Cin took a long sip of his tea before carefully broaching the topic. “On my way here, I skirted past someone in the woods—they did not appear to be the most savory fellow. Is that going to be a problem for you?”
Elias’s usual smile waned, and he glanced out toward the forest. “I’m afraid she’s in league with those who’d keep us enslaved.”
“Here? Aren’t we on the border of Hallin?” Cin had gone far enough down the trade road that it was possible he’d crossed over without realizing it, but he didn’t think that was the case.
Elias shook his head. “These days there are so few safe places for our people.”
“But your magic will continue to protect you?” Cin asked.
“We have no reason to think it won’t.”
That answer did little to curb Cin’s worries—he had found their meadow using magic of his own, after all. And even if Elias and Henrik were safe, there were surely other free elves hidingsomewhere in these woods. Cin felt a fierce knot of anger tighten in his gut. Maybe the offerings of his birds were all that he could officially give to these lonesome cobblers, but there was another service he’d be providing them later.
Cin drank his tea quietly after that, commenting on the nature of the meadow and inquiring about the shoe-work. As it turned out, Johan and Elias were the shoemakers, with only Henrik providing the magic. It seemed to make them all happy—even Henrik, who had barely pulled himself out of his sullenness as he sipped his own tea.
All the while they talked, Cin stole glances out the window, searching for any sign of his flock. Just when he was beginning to doubt himself, one by one the birds returned.
They brought with them a collection far broader and larger than Cin could have guessed—branches of berries and nuts ripe for the taking, full herb plants that slipped seamlessly back into the soil, minerals and precious stones, unpolished but already gorgeous even in their natural state, pairs of butterfly wings and bundles of flowers, even a full head of glorious antler shedding carried between three large pigeons. As Cin and his hosts met them in the front of the house, they lay the most precious of the offerings directly before the stoop.
