Page 56 of King Elijah (The Zemiran Chronicles 2)

“Go on, then,” she said when he didn’t answer. “We didn’t have long together, but it’s been nice. Thank you.”

He leaned down from the chair, kissing her gently upon the forehead before saying, “If I survive this, beautiful human, I will come find you. Be sure of it.”

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“TWO, I SAY.Give me two coins for tha’ one there,” a merchant bartered with a patron in front of his tent. Aiden couldn’t tear his eyes away from how strange the people in Newick looked—much different than the Zemirans.

Each townsfolk’s outfit was more vibrant and showier than the next. He tried to see it as merely a difference in convention but still found it pretentious. Thick makeup painted the women’s faces, and their dresses were made of extravagant silk and cashmere. He had a hood drawn over his head to conceal his face. Aiden was ready to draw his sword if he attracted too much attention. He had to assume everyone he passed could wield magical gifts.

“You ripped me off, ye bastard!” the patron shouted, tossing the product on the floor. Then, the patron placed his hands on the table, running his palms across it until everything was knocked to the ground. The merchant let out an angry bellow and launched himself over the table, tackling him.

A fight broke out quickly, giving Aiden a chance to slip through the market to a small alley without being seen. He ducked around the wall before the convenient distraction had ended.

Looking up from the alley, it was easy to see the spires of a tall, stone-walled mansion. It sat at the far end of the city, with each corner anchored by a tower that reached into the sky. Even the trees were not high enough to block the view. It loomed over the city like a shadow. Painted glass windows were scattered between the heavy gray stones, sparkling like jewels in the sunlight.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His blood went cold when he heard a familiar voice. When he turned, Tegan stood in the alleyway, her arms laid still to her side. She looked exhausted, as if she had been running all day to catch up.

Panic clutched his throat. He looked around, making sure no one watched them. He was surprised, but probably not as much as he should be. As if he hadn’t secretly seen it coming.

“You’re crazier than I thought, woman,” he said. “You should have stayed in that home, Tegan. I’m expecting to die or spark a war here, and you—”

“I know,” she said, chewing on the inside of her mouth nervously. “But I know this city more than you do. If you want to get even remotely close to Kieran without his men stopping or killing you with their magic, you’ll need my help. I really am your only chance to do this right since you won’t turn back.”

Aiden mulled over what she said, but he still didn’t like it. He was already taking a risk in not knowing the details of what Janelle was to Kieran. He didn’t know what else had been planned for her. A bargain may not be enough.

“For one, you need to dress a bit differently than you are right now,” she said, sizing him up. Her cheeky tone sounded a little forced. “You could not look more like an Elven warrior. Time to brighten you up a tad. Stay here.”

Tegan strode toward the vendors, leaving Aiden behind a few barrels catching water from a draining pipe. He waited patiently with his back to the brick wall, his head resting against the rough surface. He wondered if Elijah had taken Janelle back to Zemira. Knowing the two of them, he doubted it.

His eyes turned right as a heap of clothes smacked him hard in his face.

“Put that on,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Quickly.”

Aiden waited for Tegan to turn around, but she didn’t.

“Are you serious? Aiden, I’ve seen you naked.” She laughed, her eyes moving down his body with an appreciative smirk. “I need to make sure you can pass as a Newick resident.”

There was still tension between them. Tegan was acting casual, but they both knew that joining him was tantamount to a death sentence. She could tease and flirt all she wanted. He knew she was just as scared of dying as he was. If they were marching toward certain death, he figured they might as well enjoy the time they had left.

Aiden felt himself smile, returning her smirk and eyeing her just as obviously as he undressed. He placed his weapons on the ground and removed his black clothes, putting on the new items she had offered him, piece by piece.

The pants were light gray‌, stitched in a fabric that shone in the light like rippling silver. They were snug on his long legs, clinging to every curve of his muscles and holding to some parts of his anatomy so tightly that Aiden felt they should be outlawed. The shirt was red silk, seemingly bland enough, but as he buttoned it, he quickly realized there was no way to fasten its top half. It splayed open, a deliberate design, leaving his chest exposed. He looked like he should pose for an oil painting eating grapes.

This is ridiculous, he thought.

Next, she tossed over a hat for him to tuck his hair into. The hat was bright red to match his shirt and wide enough to hide the most prominent Elven feature—the ears.

“Gods, you look hideous,” she said bluntly, tossing out a giggle. “At least you no longer look like you’re going into a battle.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that was the problem, but he managed to restrain himself. Tegan bent down and gathered his clothes up. She lifted the lid on a nearby trash can and tossed them in with more pleasure than the situation called for.

“Is throwing away my things really necessary?” he asked.

“If they find your clothes here, they’ll know an outsider is in the city,” she said, holding out her hand. “Now, your sword.”

Aiden shook his head, picking his sword up from the ground and pressing it against his chest, moving back. “You aren’t taking my damn sword.”

“Aiden,” she said with a sigh, “if anyone sees you walk within a hundred miles of Kieran with that sword, you’ll find yourself blasted out of existence before you can blink. You’ll never make it through with the sword, so you might as well give it up now. You can always buy a new one later.”

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