Page 17 of Cinder
What might that make them, though: desperate or defensive? With an enslaver hunting so near to them, Cin hoped for their sakes that they were on high alert.
Beneath Cin, one bird after another peeled away from his flock-creature, gently depositing him onto the ground in a flourish of wings. Perdition landed on Cin’s shoulder as the last of his mount took off into the trees behind him. His broken sole flapped awkwardly against the ground with each step toward the buildings.
Cin swallowed down the apprehension lodging in his throat and called, “Hello? I’m looking for the elvish cobblers?”
He didn’t have to wait long.
An elf opened the front door of the cabin, his long, straight hair spilled over his shoulders, shining as it caught the light, buthe scowled at Cin with an expression far darker than his gilded appearance.
A knot in Cin’s chest released at the sight of him—no chains on his wrists, nor hunters at his back. Whoever had set up the camp nearer the main road hadn’t managed to find this place yet. And now here Cin was barging in to ask for favors.
With the way the elf scowled at him, he had half a mind to apologize outright.
“How the damned did you get here?” the elf snapped.
Cin tried to put on a pleasant expression, hoping a lighter mood might rub off on the surly cobbler. He could always just leave, but then where would he be? He’d have lost a half day’s work for nothing. That was a defeat worse than never having made an attempt in the first place.
“My birds led me.” It would have sounded ridiculous, if not for the flock that trilled and cooed from the branches behind him, their sharp eyes alert and wings ready.
Perdition gave her feathers a tiny ruffle as though in support, clacking her beak together like a threat. It only made the disinterested elf’s expression darken further.
Cin placed a hand casually over Perdition’s back, pleading silently with her to back down. “I don’t mean to intrude—”
As he spoke, a second elf appeared behind the first, his light hair pulled up atop his head, leaving his ears on full display. “Nonsense, you’re not intruding.” The newcomer shook his head, smiling gently. “We’ve put in place a magic that only allows those with good intentions to find this meadow. You’re welcome here.”
That was another relief to Cin—at least he didn’t need to worry about anyone charging in on them before he had finished here.
“Elias!” The first elf hissed under his breath.
Elias looked pointedly at his scowling neighbor. “In fact,” he said, enunciating each word, “I quitemisshaving visitors.”
“You’re only accommodating him because he’s the first that’s made it,” the original elf grumbled.
“Don’t mind Henrik.” Still smiling, Elias stepped out of the house, and Henrik followed him, slower, his gaze narrowing on the birds that filled the trees behind Cin. When Elias held out his hand to Cin, Cin took it.
The kind but firm shake seemed to pull the last bit of tension out of Cin’s muscles.
“I’m Elias,” the friendlier elf said. He lifted his voice, calling back toward the work shed, “Johan, we have a guest!”
The shed’s door opened immediately, and a large, burly human man with dark hair and a beard poked his head out. By the look of his outfit, he seemed in the middle of crafting, but he gave Cin a friendly nod and lingered in the entrance to watch after. Cin wasn’t sure whether it was odd to find a human here, among the free elves, but if they had fled Falchovari together, they must have been partners of some kind.
A pang of something sharp and bitter as jealousy ran through Cin. He tried to shrug it off. Fleeing his home was the last thing a good or pious person should have found intriguing, regardless of who might go with him. His life was all he had and that was that. He should have been feeling nothing more for this trio than pity for their loss and hope for their future.
Besides, one of them was still glaring at him. “What are you here for?” Henrik asked.
“A mending, if it suits you, though I don’t have another pair to wear in the meantime. All I have are these...” Cin lifted his foot, twisting his knee to reveal the dangling part of his boot’s sole. “I broke it while climbing, and I’d like not to have to worry about that with the next one, if that’s something you can do?” He took abreath, then added, for the hell of it, “And, if you can make them fit only my own feet, that would also be lovely.”
Perhaps that would finally stop Floy from squeezing their feet into his shoes whenever they wished not to sully their own.
Elias nodded eagerly. “A new pair of such specifications shouldn’t be a problem for us.”
“For a price,” Henrik pointed out, his tone making it clear he intended a steep one.
Cin had been prepared for this, but the thought still sent a tingle of nerves through his stomach. He had so little to offer, yet so much they could ask for when magic and favors were concerned. He’d have to suggest what he could and hope that God smiled on him.
“I don’t have much in the way of payment—not traditional coins, anyway.” He glanced behind him to the cooing wall of wings and beaks. “My flock is at your service though. They led me here; I think they’ll oblige.”
Johan had come to join the elves by then, and he loomed quietly behind them, his expression soft and thoughtful as he watched the birds.
