Page 60 of To Kill a King
“I dunno,” she said with a shrug. “Been a few centuries since I visited. Don’t think it’s more than a couple o’ miles.”
Elessan frowned.
Aliya crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow.
He met her gaze. Dropping his voice, he muttered, “I don’t think the elves would put one of their major cities so close to the border. I suspect we’ve a day or two of walking to look forward to.”
“That’s ridicule… ridic… rick… absurd,” Zadé said. “Is not a long walk, Elsan. Promise.”
Hours later, the sun dipped below the tree line in the distance. Evening came early in the woods. Aliya’s feet hurt from hiking, but much less than they had two short weeks ago.
Aliya glanced at Elessan. “Should we start looking for a place to camp?”
He sized up their surroundings. “There’s a clearing just up ahead.”
The area was flat, and off to the side a fast-flowing creek gurgled.
Aliya blinked as she studied the glade. “This is perfect.”
Zadé tumbled down and ended up resting with her back against a tree. Raising her waterskin in a toast, she smiled. “In the elven lands, the forest provides.”
“And alerts its guardians when foreigners arrive,” Elessan mumbled.
Aliya frowned. “Do we need to be worried?”
He shrugged. “Likely not, but one never knows. Why don’t you grab your sword, and we’ll spar before dinner?”
She caught the change in subject, but let it go. “Sure, give me a minute to work some feeling back into my toes.” Sitting down, she shucked off her pack and shoes, and massaged the soles of her feet. When they weren’t hurting enough to distract her from the upcoming lesson, she climbed back up. Elessan tossed her a stick the same length as his swords. With a mischievous smile, she raised the branch at him. Instead of waiting for him to attack, she lunged at his unprotected left hip.
He parried with a laugh, and their dance was on.
Several hours later, Elessan leaned against the rough bark, pretending not to watch the shadowy areas between the trees outside the fire’s light. Underneath Zadé’s snores, the forest was silent except for the small brook babbling a few feet away. The crickets didn’t chirp, and no mice or voles scurried through the underbrush. Even the wind settled.
They’re watching.
His fingers itched to wrap around his swords, but moon elves were all about protocol. Such an action could be interpreted as hostile. Aliya needed access to Filathas and Zadé’s aunt, and he wouldn’t do anything to compromise that.
She wasn’t just the only person to make him smile in several decades, but the last hope of peace for the realm if she could fulfill her vow to the Mage Underground and depose King Malkov.
Elessan’s gaze lingered on Aliya’s sleeping form. Her newly pointed ears poked out from the loose strands of hair cascading over her shoulders. With the long hike and their vigorous sparring session tonight, she’d collapsed after dinner. Training with her had been thrilling, even with Zadé’s jibes, and the heat in his blood afterward wasn’t due to the workout alone.
His eyes swept the dark woods again. Should he wake her up?
There—to his right—a soft whisper of cloth scraping over wet grass. From the corner of his eye, he strained to catch a glimpse of the mysterious sentry. The sound didn’t repeat, and no one stepped into the firelight.
He glanced at Aliya again. She was exhausted, and it appeared the moon elves wouldn’t be attacking tonight. If they were content to watch for the time being, he’d let her sleep.
Giving up all pretenses, he settled back against the tree, crossed his arms, and stared directly where at least one of the fae hid. If they wanted to skulk in the shadows, he’d wait for them to make the first move.
King Malkov glared over his desk. “Ah, Miss Larimar. You’re late.” The pupils of his dark brown eyes glowed, as if lit by hell-fire within.
Aliya blinked and glanced around the unfamiliar study.
Not this again. Her heart thumped on her ribs. “Late? Why am I here? How’re you doing this?”
“I’m losing my patience,” he said, ignoring her questions. “My bounty hasn’t worked, and Brooks is too far behind you right now to be of much use. Therefore, I’m moving to Plan B.” He pushed his chair back with a screech of wood against stone. He grabbed her upper arm and headed toward the door. “Come with me. I’ve something to show you.”
She strained in his crushing grip. “You’re hurting me. Let go.” She pounded on his hand with her fist. A memory tugged on her awareness from the depths of her mind.