Page 10 of To Kill a King
He dove aside as it sizzled overhead. His hood dropped back, exposing his head and face. Seared ozone filled his nostrils. That was what he got for acting rashly. His teachers would be disappointed in him. He crouched low as Aliya brandished a dagger at the darkness beyond her fire.
Her eyes darted from side to side, searching. “Who are you? What do you want?”
He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders to allow the tension to drain from his muscles before stepping into the firelight. “That wasn’t very considerate, Aliya Larimar.”
Her gaze brushed over his angular features and froze, reaching his pointed ears. The blood drained from her face. He thought about smiling and flashing his fangs but stopped himself. She was jumpy enough, and he didn’t want to spend the whole evening dodging lightning bolts. Eventually, she’d get lucky, even with her poor aim.
After a moment, she blinked and her attention moved downward, finishing her survey. Constant exercise had made his body lean and fit. His traveling clothes were dark blue and violet. Her eyebrows pulled together.
He knew what she was thinking, like every other human he encountered. An elf? In their realm? She was probably expecting him to try to kill her and eat her eyeballs to gain insight into his enemy, or whichever idiotic superstition this generation of humans subscribed to.
He bit back a sneer. They had no idea the wrath he would visit on their realm before the end. But scaring her would do him no good right now.
Setting the lower edge of his longbow on the ground, he tilted his head. “Are you planning to kill me?”
“That depends on who you are, and what you want.” Her eyes narrowed. “Anyone who lands in a stranger’s campsite without announcing themselves deserves whatever they get.” Her gaze darted to the quiver of bright orange feathers peeking above his left shoulder. “The only reason you haven’t got a hole through your gut is because I recognized the colored fletching on your arrows.”
He held back a smile. There was the Larimar spirit he’d heard so much about. Though he wasn’t aware there was magic in their bloodline. At least he’d found the noble mage he’d come searching for.
“Tell me who you are, and what you want. I won’t ask again.”
He chortled. “You have a strange way of showing gratitude.”
Her grip tightened on the dagger. “I don’t have any coin on me. If you’re hoping for some reward from my father, allow me to rid you of that notion. He’d execute you before he gave anything to an elf.”
Would he, now? Even one who saved his daughter? Interesting. He tilted his head and studied her. What did you do, Aliya? Why are you running? From what he’d seen, no mage unfortunate enough to catch King Malkov’s attention had been able to escape. For a human, she must be exceptionally clever.
She flashed her blade at him. “Trying to decide if you want to play those odds?”
He blinked.
She’d spoken in Elven. It had been a century since he’d met a human who spoke his native language.
She dropped her knife and held her hands out. Fire burst forth from her palms.
An expression flickered across her face too quickly for him to identify.
She swallowed. “Forget my father. How about the chances of taking me alive at all?”
This was the same girl who’d struggled to start a campfire?
If she could be brazen, then so could he. Bracing one hand on his hip, he leaned his weight to one side. “I could have left you, but that didn’t seem right.” His Elvish sounded harsh, sharper than her more proper pronunciation. “Judging from how many tries it took you to light those pine needles, I wouldn’t be hard-pressed to survive your assassination attempt.”
The corners of her lips tightened as she glared at him. The flames in her hands flared, its heat grazing his skin.
He sighed. This wasn’t working. Time to change tactics before she set something else on fire. Like him. Or the forest. Sliding his bow over his shoulder, he secured it in its binding. “My name is Elessan. And no, I don’t intend to return you to your father. It’s not my place to do so. I suppose everyone has a reason to run from something. Are you going to keep threatening me with your magic and small blade? Your fire’s going out, and the night’s chilly. You’ll need appropriate firewood if you want to stay warm.” He could practically see her racing pulse in the large artery on the side of her neck. Her nostrils flared as her ribs rose and fell with her rapid, shallow breaths.
She glared at him for a few more moments before she shook her head. “The minute I drop my guard, you’ll kidnap me to the elven realm so you can torture me for information. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t know anything important to the war effort. It’ll do you no good, so you may as well save us both the trouble and leave.”
By Abaddon… The last thing the elves needed was an influx of humans in their territory, consuming resources, perpetuating violence and bringing down his people’s quality of life. He’d never willingly bring a human across the border.
Exhaling, he brushed his hand over the top of his head, pulling his hair away from his face. “I’m not here to hurt you, Aliya. I’m trying to help.” He met her gaze for several heartbeats. “I suggest you calm down before you hyperventilate and faint.” Crossing his legs, he sat opposite her.
She glared at him for several more breaths before her flames disappeared. Bending over, she picked up and sheathed her dagger. Sagging against the boulder, she dropped into a sitting position. “Just because I don’t know how to build a proper fire doesn’t mean I can’t defend myself. Believe it or not, I’ve had a really long day, and I’m not up for a verbal jousting match with some elf who’s stalking me through the forest.” She waved at him. “You may leave.”
Elessan tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t going anywhere.
She sighed and ran a hand down her face.