The Darkness of Glengowyn (5 page)

“A fight, only a street or two over,” she murmured. “Sinnale soldiers must have found one of the minion groups.”

He nodded in agreement, though he never took his attention from the minions in the street ahead of them. He raised a hand, a silent warning to prepare, and then sprinted across the road. She followed, racing a step behind him. When they made the next alley, he paused and lifted his head, listening.

She could hear it too, more joining the fight. A full-blown skirmish was underway.

“The others are joining the fight,” Einar said. “More minions will make their way toward it.”

“What do we do? Should we help? Or…”

He shook his head before she could finish. “Sinnale will assume we’re traitor elves. Minions will try to kill or capture us. We need to avoid the fight, find another hiding spot.”

“The minions will just continue searching. Where can we be safe?”

As he considered their options, they watched another small group of minions race by, heading toward the growing conflict.

“Opposite the fight and toward Sinnale territory,” Einar finally said. “As we originally planned. This skirmish is deep in Noman’s Land. The Sinnale soldiers are probably all over the area hunting the minions. Neither side will have time to look for two missing elves for hours, maybe not for the rest of the night if the Sinnale win these fights and drive the minions back to Sorcerer territory.”

“We’ll have to avoid human patrols too,” she pointed out.

“They aren’t looking for us. We can hide from them. We just need an empty building, no human squatters.”

Carefully, and sticking close to the buildings, they made their way through the deserted, ramshackle part of the city that was the buffer between the two warring parties. The occasional gas lamp provided small pools of light, but most of them were dark. The closer they got to the Sinnale border, the fewer patches of light there were.

Twice they ducked into dark recesses to avoid human patrols. Once they nearly walked out into the path of a minion group. And once they had to change direction to avoid another skirmish. First moon was high overhead by the time they found an empty building that Einar deemed a suitable hiding spot.

Inside, they quietly searched the three levels of the small building, checking for the presence of others likely to return. Every room and corridor was covered in dust that looked undisturbed for months, maybe years. Einar checked the roof as well, assessing possible escape routes. When he was satisfied they were as safe as they could be for the night, he motioned her back inside.

“I’ll call an owl. You’ll be more comfortable downstairs.”

“I won’t be comfortable until we make contact with someone who can help us,” she said.

“Still. It’s cold tonight. I don’t want you to take a chill.” He gestured to her torn riding robe. “You’ve been running and tense. When the sweat cools, you’ll notice the cold out here.”

“So will you,” she said. Then smiled. “And are you trying to tell me I stink of sweat?”

His mouth crooked up at one side, just barely. “You always smell lovely. Go inside. I’ll join you shortly.”

Giving in, she took the roof stairs to the third floor to scout a suitable room to rest in. They were fortunate that the windows in this building were mostly intact, at least on this floor. Several of the rooms had furniture, though most of it was too filthy to make for comfortable sitting. She found two rooms with beds and one of those beds appeared relatively clean, though it was bare. She studied that room and realized it wasn’t as dirty in general as the other rooms, the dust only just starting to accumulate again.

Someone had used that space, not long ago. But there were no signs of it being readied for a return visitor. When she checked the ceramic heater in the corner, there was no kindling or flint and steel to start a fire. Someone planning on using this room again would have left something behind to start a fire. Or left some clean linens for the bed. She opened the single oak trunk in the room, but it was empty. No, there didn’t seem to be signs that whoever had used this room might return. She and Einar should be safe enough here.

With a little sigh, she flipped the mattress over, exposing a dust-free side that was in decent shape, better than she’d expected. Then she sat and waited for Einar.

He didn’t leave her alone for long. He filled the doorway when he did join her, his large, muscled frame a paler darkness. Ambient light from both the waning moon and a single working gas lamp gave the room some illumination, but not enough to see his facial expression clearly as he hovered in the shadows.

“Did an owl come?”

He made a noise that sounded like a short, broken laugh. “Of course. They’re always happy to answer my requests.”

“How do you send messages without anything to write with?” She knew he could do this. He’d done it before. But she’d never asked how he managed. For every other elf, the owls would deliver written notes. Only Einar could deliver a verbal one.

He came into the room, hesitating a few feet from the bed. There was nowhere else to sit, and his hovering rubbed irritatingly against her nerves.

“Sit down, Einar. I won’t attack you. We can be in each other’s company for a few minutes without succumbing to the
Shaerta
.”

Still reluctant, he finally settled on the opposite end of the bed.

“Now. How do you send verbal messages with the owls? I’ve always wondered and been afraid to ask.”

He tilted his head to one side. “You afraid? I find that hard to believe.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“The owls can deliver my verbal messages to the king. He’s the only other elf who can understand, though he does so in a different manner than I do. He…sees the messages, almost like pictures, from the owl’s mind.”

“And you? Can you receive verbal messages?” Before he could answer, she let out a half laugh. “But of course you wouldn’t know, as the owls won’t carry verbal messages from other elves.”

“They bring me news that was spoken within their hearing.”

She focused on him more fully. “What?”

“While collecting written messages, if they glean information they feel I should know, they tell me. I understand their…language is the only way to describe it. When they speak, I know what they’re saying.”

“Unlike the king.”

“Different from the king.”

“What did you ask His Majesty to do?”

“To inform your cousin that we need safe passage from Noman’s Land. Once he has a safe way for us to enter Sinnale territory, he can relay that information through the king via the owls.”

She released a small breath and smiled. “Ulric. Very clever. Trusted by the humans now. And will recognize us both on sight.”

“He’ll arrange the proper security so the Sorcerers don’t try to infiltrate their territory by pretending to be you and me.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She straightened her shoulders. “A further complication to us just waltzing into Sinnale territory.”

“Yes.”

“Do they have something or someone who can see through illusion spells?”

“Likely Ulric will impose on the queen. She’s the only one of sufficient skill to ensure we’re who we say we are.”

“Won’t that be dangerous for her? If the Sorcerers came after me, surely they’ll want the queen when they get word of her coming into Sinnale.”

Though the king and queen had both entered the city on several occasions while the elves were technically neutral in the war, they had remained safe in Glengowyn once their support of the Sinnale was made official.

Since Einar was the bodyguard to the royal couple, she was certain he would find the plan too risky. He surprised her by smiling. A full-blown, all-out grin.

“Her Majesty has ways of getting around that most elves are unaware of. She’s very purposefully kept a few of her skills a secret. Getting in and out of Sinnale is not as difficult for her as it is for most.”

Nuala widened her eyes in surprise. The king and queen had reigned for centuries, so long she’d thought all their magics must have been revealed. Apparently, she was wrong.

“So. We’ll see the queen when we finally reach safety.”

“I would assume so.”

She took in the implications of that for a long moment.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice quiet.

How to tell him? They’d been avoiding this for two hundred years.

Instead of a direct approach, she said, “Why do you think they risk…us on this mission? Together?”

“You’re highly valuable to Glengowyn. Who else would they trust with your safety?”

“Ulric.”

He dipped his head to the side, a half nod, half shrug. “He would have made an excellent guard. But he’s too well known among the Sorcerers now. It was felt his presence would call too much attention to your…importance.”

“Many of the traitor elves know you too. Even if they didn’t recognize me, seeing the Darkness of Glengowyn would reveal my
importance
.” She wanted to sneer the word but kept that reaction to herself. She accepted her position in Glengowyn society, but centuries of the overprotective efforts of the royal couple had left her weary.

She watched Einar carefully as he faced the wall. The soft rise and fall of his chest drew her gaze to the thick muscles. She remembered well how those muscles felt under her hands, pressing against her naked breasts. The weight of him as he covered her. His scent filled her. Mixed with dust and sweat was that distinct spicy musk that was Einar’s alone. She’d never met elf or human whose scent called to her the way his did. Unable to resist, she took another deep breath.

Her movements attracted his gaze. Even with him sitting so close, she couldn’t read anything in his dark eyes. But she felt the
Shaerta
tickling her skin. His reaction or hers, she couldn’t tell. Maybe both. The fire was rising, though. Too much longer on this bed, in this quiet, isolated room, would leave her defenseless to him.

“No one knew I would join the group,” he said into the silence. “Only the king, queen and Ulric. The traitors wouldn’t have expected me to leave the sovereigns’ side. That gave us an advantage. And while many elves think they know what I look like, most have never looked close enough to recognize me out of context.”

She wondered if that was true. Byral hadn’t recognized him and Byral had been to Court at least a few times. Maybe fear of the Darkness really did keep the others from looking too closely. She couldn’t imagine
not
looking at Einar or knowing every detail of his face. The brush of short hair against his collar and the sharp points of his ears just peeking past the dark, thick waves, the ever-so-slight tilt of his eyes, the firm set of his mouth and solid angle of his jaw. Every detail etched into her heart for centuries.

She blinked and dragged her thoughts back to the conversation. “The traitors did expect me, though,” she said. “They knew I was there. They came for me specifically. It wouldn’t have mattered if Ulric was with me or not.”

“We know that now. They’ve probably been watching all the caravans, waiting for you to appear. When the plans were made, however, it was thought best to draw as little attention to you as possible while providing you with the highest level of security.”

“You.”

“Me.”

“Did they…” She swallowed as she found herself leaning toward him without meaning to. “Didn’t they worry about the
Shaerta
?”

He held perfectly still, not moving closer. Her own weakening will kept her edging across the bed, very slightly, toward him.

“They trusted you to uphold their decree.”

“Not you?” That surprised her. He’d been as disciplined at avoiding her as she’d been at avoiding him. Maybe more so. He’d never once shown signs of the weakness she often felt when it came to him.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood and paced to the opposite side of the room. Then he headed for the door. “I need to check on the skirmishes. I’ll be back soon.”

He left without a backward glance. Nuala sighed. She removed her bow and quiver and set them beside her on the bed, then leaned on the headboard. Again his willpower managed to stay strong where hers faltered.

What did she expect? They’d see the queen soon enough. Giving in to the
Shaerta
wasn’t an option. While they might be able to get away with a single encounter after all these years, she knew one night with Einar would never be enough. Succumbing to her desires once would make it impossible for her to deny them anymore. Making love to Einar again would ruin her.

Yet, somehow that ruin no longer seemed so bad.

With a groan, she stretched out on the bed to await his return, trying to remind herself why she’d heeded the queen and king’s edict in the first place. To ignore their order would lead to banishment for both her and Einar. After so long, that punishment didn’t scare her as much. But Einar… She couldn’t do that to him. She was sure he wouldn’t risk it. Why else had he left the room? He was right. She knew he was. Her value was significant. Banishment would be disastrous for everyone.

But oh how she wanted him to throw caution to the wind, stalk into the room, strip her naked and fuck her like nothing else in the world mattered.