Page 30 of In Darkness Forged

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Page 30 of In Darkness Forged

He didn’t answer, only turned and stalked off toward where he’d left his pack. His silence continued as he donned a clean-ish shirt and combed the tangles from his hair, twisting half of it into a knot at the back of his head before turning to the next task.

He’d already begun to lay a fire when he looked up abruptly, a frustrated scowl twisting his lips. “Do you even know what an arantha is?”

Aislin shrugged. “I assumed it must be some kind of snake.”

The night elf began to chuckle, but it was not a pleasant sound. “And yet you still offer to be bait.” He shook his head. “I knew humans were fools, but surely you would win some sort of prize even among the most foolish of your kind. Answer me this, human. Why should I say yes? What do you offer that might justify asking me to feed, shelter, and defend your helpless person from here to the mountains?”

“I’m not helpless,” she snapped, feeling the sting of his brutal assessment. “I might not have magic, but I can build a fire, kill and dress a chicken, mend clothing, chop wood, and carry water. I can cook when necessary, I know one herb from another, and I’m considered quite strong for my size.”

He only raised one eyebrow in mockery of her claimed skills. “And what good are those in a battle? There are no chickens where we are going—only a nest full of wild aranthas who will be trying their utmost to kill us and feed us to their clan.”

“I don’t know,” Aislin admitted uncomfortably. “But at least I’m willing to try, which is more than I can say for any of Vanadar’s people.”

“So, to sum up, you can kill chickens, chop wood, and youprobablywon’t poison us with your cooking?” His eyes bored into her. “What this mission requires is an entire band of experienced hunters with keen night vision. Trained and seasoned in battle. Skilled, silent, and deadly, with nerves that cannot be shaken. As comfortable beneath the ground as beneath the trees. Perhaps then…perhapswe would have a chance.”

“Then you are no different than me,” Aislin argued. “If you don’t have a chance either, why are you so offended by my insistence on helping?”

“Because you give me less of a chance, not more,” was his flat reply. “And I will not risk being forced to turn aside at a critical moment in order to save something soft and breakable from a fate it likely deserves.”

“Why won’t you at least give me an opportunity to prove myself?”

His raised eyebrow reminded her that she’d already fainted once, but he seemed to decide not to mention it. Instead, he rummaged in his pack and withdrew what proved to be a hatchet. Short handled, but with a wickedly sharp blade once he removed its sheath.

“Very well,” he said, and flipped the hatchet into the air, end over end. Aislin sternly forced herself not to move as the weapon buried itself in the ground before her feet. “Go and prove that you are at least capable of chopping wood as you claim.”

With a glare that was probably more murderous than she intended, Aislin yanked the hatchet out of the ground and stalked off into the forest.

She wasn’t sure which image would remain with her the longest—his disdainful frown or his perfect physique, streaming water onto the forest floor as he stepped out of that pool. There was something about him that was different than other night elves, even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. His attitude, though… That seemed very much the same.

At least she knew what she was about when it came to chopping wood. She was not very many steps away from camp when she came upon a fallen tree that appeared to have died long enough ago to yield decent firewood. Wielding the hatchet cautiously at first, she sliced away some of the smaller branches, cut them into shorter pieces for kindling, then started on the larger ones. The trunk was too big for anything but a saw, but the branches nearest the base of the tree should be sufficient to keep their fire going through the night…

No, the day. Night elves slept during the day. And for her own part, Aislin was exhausted enough to sleep now, even though dawn was beginning to brighten the sky with faint color.

Within a few minutes, she had chopped as much wood as she could carry and had just crouched down to gather an armload when a low hiss met her ears.

The sound was barely more than a whisper, but Aislin stood anyway, gripping the hatchet firmly in her right hand as she glanced around for the source of the disturbance.

A brief rustle from the tree directly overhead was her only warning. It gave her just enough time to jerk slightly to the side before a pale, hairless creature came plummeting down nearly on top of her. As it flashed past, its long, razor-sharp claws sliced through her sleeve and dug a furrow along the top of her arm, drawing a yelp of pain.

Like a cat, the creature hit the ground on its feet, then sprang again, this time for her face, squalling with hunger and rage.

Aislin only had time for a brief impression of long limbs, red eyes, and too many teeth before it was on her, knocking her off her feet despite weighing no more than a small child. She heard a bark from Cuan, but had no chance to cry out. Instead of remaining flat on her back, she twisted to the side and rolled, pinning the pale, sinewy body beneath her knee.

Fangs flashed as its mouth opened in a snarl, and it clawed at the dirt with far more strength than its slender limbs would suggest.

The creature was going to get free if she didn’t do something, and Aislin suddenly recalled the night elf’s condescending response to her claimed skills.

Maybe there were no chickens in these woods, but one creature’s head was attached pretty much the same as another’s.

She lifted the hatchet and brought it down with every bit of strength she had left, then fell to the side, trying not to retch as blood sprayed and the hairless body went limp beneath her knee.

It was really nothing like a chicken.

A moment later, Cuan burst into view, teeth bared as he charged towards her. When she rolled away, he grabbed the bloody corpse and shook it, seemingly unaware that it was already dead.

And right behind the wolf? One very angry night elf with a naked sword in his hand.

Aislin staggered to her feet as he strode towards her with murder in his gaze.




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