Page 40 of King Elijah (The Zemiran Chronicles 2)

Eighteen

AIDEN’S EYES FLICKEREDopen to the sound of coarse dirt falling through the crack of the floorboards. Awareness sprang to life about where he was and how long he’d been there.

Loud, boisterous shouts inside the tavern jolted him to sit upright. Aiden looked around the tiny room, adjusting to his cramped accommodations. He wondered how that woman slept down there, dust falling through the cracks and onto the bed sheets anytime the boots of patrons stomped overhead.

How long have I been asleep? he wondered.

There was only a crack near the washroom next to him that peeked over to the tavern entrance. From what he could see outside, the sun was setting again—he had slept all day.

“Fuck.”

Before rolling off the bed, he rubbed his eyes a few times. He brushed off the dirt, picked up his sword, and moved quickly up the stairs to the hidden trapdoor. Aiden pressed his ear against the floorboard and listened.

It was difficult to make out what they were saying, but he did hear one word: elf.

Aiden used his heightened senses to hone in on the sound, listening intently to their words. He recognized them as older men, maybe two to three of them, then heard Tegan’s soft voice shouting back. They were arguing about sighting a black-haired elf coming into the tavern, causing a brawl, and where he might have disappeared. Tegan insisted that no elves had been there, and did they not have more pressing matters to attend to? She sounded viciously annoyed as her voice echoed loudly above the ceiling.

An authoritative voice shouted back right before wood shattered, as if someone had cracked a chair against the floor.

As Aiden shifted his weight on the ladder, it creaked loudly, bringing the sounds above to a stop.

“Get out!” Tegan’s voice again, that time sounding more murderous than it was before. A gunshot blasted through the walls, causing Aiden to duck instinctively from the sound of the shot; his mind moved quickly.

He unsheathed his sword and held it out.

“Ah, fuck it!” Aiden said, opening the door and wielding his sword at the ready. There were more men than he had thought surrounding the tavern.

Aiden charged for the men, not caring that he was completely outnumbered.

He arched back, sliding across the wooden floor as magic left their hands—dark magic. Sorcerers!

Aiden jumped up as he reached the bar, his feet climbing the wall next to him and kicking off. His sword came down with him with one swift move to the right, slicing down on the arm of one of the men. It was severed along with the power of its owner.

All at once, the patrons scattered like roaches out of the tavern. They pushed the sorcerers out of their way—some fell, and many escaped.

For a fleeting moment, Aiden watched Tegan dash behind the bar and disappear behind a back wall. Aiden continued to fight off the men that were coming from every direction. His eyes widened when he saw her reemerge with a bow and a quiver of arrows in her hand. Tegan shot two arrows, splitting them into completely opposite directions.

Two men dropped to the ground, quickly replaced by three others charging for Aiden. He used his sword to fend them off, feeling the burn from his tired muscles and drawing deep upon the strength of his Elven powers. His hand came out, releasing his magic to create an impregnable shield, as Tegan shot two more arrows to stop the men charging him. They fell to the ground with loud cries that were cut short.

The room fell quiet as Aiden dropped his power. Aiden noticed that he and Tegan were the only ones still standing in the tavern—all was calm aside from a few moans and grunts from the bodies on the floor. He and the girl were unharmed.

“Thank you,” Aiden said, turning to Tegan as she ran up to him. He placed his palm against her cheek. “You are a strange yet magnificent woman, Tegan. Do not change for anyone.”

She gave him a wink as he dropped his hand to his side and stepped toward the door. “Goodbye, Tegan,” he said to her.

There was a sparkle of hurt in her eyes, but he had to turn away. He had to leave her. As he found the will to command his feet to move, he hurried out of the tavern and into the blistering cold.

Nalla was still tied to the tree, but she had sunk onto her side, a massive gash on her flank. She was still alive, but barely; her body let out pulses of blood into the white snow as she whinnied in pain.

“Bastards!” Aiden shouted into the growing night. He knew it wouldn’t solve anything, but he was so angry that he somehow felt like he had to let the rage build up in his heart.“Oh, Nalla. I’m sorry, girl,” he said, placing his hand on her side. “I’m so sorry I left you out here.” She let out a noise, kicking ineffectually at the dirt beneath her. The light in her large eyes grew dim and her breathing became even more labored. He rested his hand against her neck and closed his eyes in fresh grief.

She won’t make it, he thought, running his hand down her neck one last time, releasing his light magic, blanketing her in a deep slumber so she could pass in her sleep.

“Over here,” Tegan said from behind him. When he turned, she had a black cloak on, a large bag draped over one shoulder, and she was carrying her bow.

He narrowed his eyes at her but walked swiftly to keep up. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Me? Oh, well, I just saved your life back there.” She placed her hand on her hip and balanced on one heel. “You’re welcome.”

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