“This is it,” Allora said as they rounded a bend in the stream they had been following for the better part of two hours. The sun was approaching mid-morning and the light flickered through the heavy canopy, dappling everything around them. The cool sound of the water rushing, the smell of earth and plant, the cool wind rustling the leaves, made it all feel like some sort of nature scene that would play over one of those relaxation music videos Mitchell used to have going in the background while he was working. He half expected some lo-fi track to start playing as he looked around.
“Wait just a moment,” Allora requested as she scouted the stream for a shallow place to cross.
Finding one, Mitchell and Lethelin waited as the knight picked a section and waded across. She approached a large tree that was growing out of a bank on the opposite side. Once there, she leaned down, shifted a rock about the size of a man’s head where it lay nestled between some roots and stuck her hand into the recess beneath it. Standing up, Mitchell saw she held a small piece of jewelry. Smiling in triumph, she stepped her way back across to them.
Before she could speak, there was a loud splash behind them and they all jumped and turned, only to see Vras emerge from a deep pool with a decent-sized fish in his mouth, still wiggling. Mitchell watched in surprise as the water streamed off his fur while the shadow cat strode back to the bank where he plopped down to enjoy his meal. He looked almost completely dry. His fur repelled water almost the same way a duck’s feathers did.
“You can swim?” Mitchell asked the beast as it tore into its snack as if he hadn’t just eaten a few hours ago.
Vras paused only briefly, glanced at Mitchell, and flicked his ears. Then resumed his chewing. This was a gesture Mitchell had come to recognize as, “Of course, don’t be stupid.”
“He can swim, I guess,” Mitchell said, shaking his head. “And he doesn’t get wet.”
“So that’s the thing,” Lethelin inquired, turning her attention back to the item in Allora’s hand.
“Yes,” she answered. She opened her hand fully and Mitchell could see it was actually a small pendant with a blue stone in the center attached to a simple silver chain. “This will prevent me from being distracted by the wards. I will put it on when we approach the boundary. You will need to hold my hands as we walk. And maybe close your eyes. The effect can be disorienting if you see where you are going. The warded area is about thirty meters before the effect ends and then we can continue as normal.”
“As my lady commands,” Lethelin said.
“Lead the way,” Mitchell told her.
He turned back to where Vras was still consuming the fish.
“Catch up when you’re done.”
Ear flick.
Mitchell chuckled and they pushed onward.
Allora turned due east from the tree and began to walk in a straight line. After about fifteen minutes, by which time Vras had caught up to them looking very pleased with himself, Allora called for a halt. She stared straight ahead into a section of forest that, as near as Mitchell could tell, was no different than any other.
“This is the boundary.”
Lethelin glanced around appeared unconvinced.
“Doesn’t look like one.”
“It is not supposed to look like one. But try to walk forward.”
Lethelin shrugged and started to walk straight ahead. To Mitchell’s amazement she began to angle left about one meter in front of Allora. Every step with her left foot moved her just a little bit farther along a gradual curve that Mitchell wasn’t sure he would have noticed had he not been watching her so closely.
The thief walked forward and to the left for what Mitchell guessed was about ten meters and which actually placed her well to the side of where he and Allora stood staring.
“I don’t feel anything," Lethelin called out and then turned to look back at them. Only they weren’t where she thought they were. Her wide eyes found them immediately and she gaped.
“Stollar’s balls,” she muttered. “It felt like I was walking straight ahead. I thought I was placing each foot firmly in front of the other one. I even picked a tree to walk towards!”
“As I told you,” Allora said with a grin, “It is a master-level bit of spell craft. She tried to explain it to me during my stay here last time but it is far beyond my capabilities. I am a battle caster, primarily. That is what I chose to focus on. I know a few pure utility spells as they were required, but I did not proceed much beyond that.”
“Balls,” Lethelin said in wonder as she walked back to them. “I mean, I know you said what it did but I thought I would feel something.”
“Even when you know it is there, you cannot avoid it.”
“I’m ready when you are,” Mitchell said, handing Tammi’s lead to Lethelin so he could free up his other hand to hold Allora’s.
Allora unspooled the pendant and placed the chain around her neck, pulling her hair through so it rested comfortably against her skin. She held out a hand to both of them and, all together, they walked across the barrier.
***
“Lora!” the middle-aged elf called out as she saw them break the tree line and into the clearing surrounding a cottage that could have been painted by Thomas Kincaid. It was a somewhat squat building with a pitched roof that had actual grass growing on it. Mitchell could see several varieties of flowers sprouting. The pitch continued all the way to the ground on both sides and it resembled the sort of low A-Frame house that had become popular in the US in the post-war area. Creeper vines crawled up every vertical surface. Flowers were in bloom all around the cottage and he could see a well-tended garden on the side with a simple fence around it. Behind the house he could also see a shed, an outhouse, and what looked like some sort of coop. There was also a stream cutting through the clearing behind the cottage that reentered the tree line not too far past the animal enclosure. The thick loamy smell of the old forest was replaced by grass, tilled earth, and something that smelled suspiciously like honeysuckle.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
At the sight of the older elf, Allora released Mitchell’s hand and sprinted forward arms out and embraced their host.
“I knew you would be back,” Gilriel said as she returned Allora’s hug. “Fairy wings were blooming at the shrine this morning when I made my devotionals to Vish.”
Gilriel squeezed Allora tightly who squeezed her right back.
The former Onyx Knight was, despite her advanced years, still lean and barely looked over forty as near as Mitchell could tell. She had silver-blond hair that she had cut short at her shoulders and which flowed freely in the light morning breeze. She was wearing a simple farm dress tied tight around her thin waist and she had a similar bust size to Allora, a fact apparent even with the loose-fitting attire. She was also wearing a krisa with four stones in it, not unlike Allora’s own.
Even from five or six meters away where Allora had left him to dash to their host, he could see shockingly blue eyes. As Gilriel hugged her, Mitchell saw the older elf take in both he and Lethelin in quick appraisal and he got the sense right away that she was much more than the wise aunt or motherly figure that she appeared to be. Mitchell couldn’t help thinking she looked like Heather Locklear circa the early 2000s. Getting older, but still a knock out. Granted, she looked to have several inches on the actress and there were also those pointed elf ears, but she could have passed for a sister easily.
“Balls,” Lethelin whispered as they closed the distance. “And here I thought Allora was beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Mitchell agreed.
“Let me have a good look at you,” Gilriel said with a smile as they broke apart. “It’s been months.”
Allora sniffled as she took a step back.
“I missed you so much,” Allora said as she wiped away a tear. “Much has happened.”
She gave Allora a once over, noting the travel worn clothes and general condition of their supplies, then took in Allora’s two traveling companions and the yulops that had already begun gorging themselves on the thick grass growing in the clearing.
“No doubt,” Gilriel replied with a nod. “Who are your friends?”
Allora turned and gestured them to come closer. She was smiling so hard Mitchell thought her face might crack. Seeing her so happy brought a grin to his face as well.
“Gilriel, this is Mitchell Allen of Earth. And this is Lethelin Ne Forlia of Varset.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mitchell said and extended a hand before remembering that people here didn’t do that. He chuckled and pulled his head back, giving her a slight bow instead. She grinned at him before returning the nod and then turned her eyes to Lethelin. Mitchell saw her eyes once again move over the thief, pausing at the cloak for a long moment and then taking in the rest of her more thoroughly, her gaze lingering a few seconds longer at the sight of Mitchell and Lethelin’s hands still clasped together.
Lethelin noticed the scrutiny as well and shifted her feet a little uncomfortably under the woman’s penetrating gaze. She pulled her hand free gently and folded them meekly in front of herself.
“Greetings, Lady Gilriel,” Lethelin said, her voice somewhat timid and she bowed low. “It is an honor to be welcomed to your home. May Stollar’s blessings be generous and may your days under his guiding light be long.”
Allora gaped at the thief.
Mitchell was far enough along with his knowledge of Common by this point that he had no trouble at all picking up the formality with which Lethelin addressed Gilriel. He could understand Allora’s reaction. She had never spoken in such a manner that he could recall. Even in Besari when haggling with an actual priestess of Stollar she’d been her usual fouth-mouthed self. Mitchell still had no idea what a horker was but the priestess had not enjoyed being told her mother had bed one of their breeders.
As for Gilriel, she arched a silver-blonde eyebrow and grinned.
“One would not expect such a formal greeting from a thief from Varset.”
Lethelin’s cheeks heated.
“How did you know?” she stammered, her eyes wide.
In answer Gilriel reached out a slender finger and plucked at the forest-green cloak that hung lightly on Lethelin’s shoulders.
“Milkmaids and tavern wenches don’t wear items like this,” she said with a smirk. “It is quality work. You must be a very good thief.”
“Yes, m’lady,” Lethelin said, sheepishly and looked at the ground. There was none of the snark in the title as there was when she addressed Allora with it. “I am regarded by some as a good thief.”
“Who are you and what have you done with the foul-mouthed cut purse that swears like an orcish brothel mistress?” Allora demanded.
“Just because I don’t kiss that prissy rump of yours just for breathing doesn’t mean I don’t have manners!” Lethelin snapped back, clearly not enjoying being addressed in such a way in front of their host. “My mother hired some of the best tutors in Varset for me. I can speak just as proper as you if I want to.”
“As properly,” Allora corrected with a sniff.
Lethelin visibly bristled.
“How about I kick you in that prissy rump, instead? Would that be more to m’lady’s taste?”
“I think I would enjoy seeing you walk around with a peg leg after I cut off the offending foot,” Allora said with an edge to her voice. “Then you would fit right in with the other drunken sailors that come crawling into port.”
Mitchell rolled his eyes as the two sniped at each other and noticed that Gilriel had crossed her arms and was watching the two women bicker with a mixture of amusement and consternation.
“Are they always like this?” she said to Mitchell as she moved to stand beside him. She smelled like mint.
“Kind of,” Mitchell said while shaking his head. “It’s been a long journey to get here. We’re all exhausted and a little on edge.”
“So it would seem,” the older woman said and turned her attention back to the bickering loves of Mitchell’s life.
“As if you could catch me with that barge pole lodged so far up your ass!” Lethelin scoffed. “Honestly, I don’t know how you can even bend over to lace up your boots. The splinters must be a nightmare!”
“I--!”
Mitchell caught a glimpse of a sparkle in one of Gilriel’s gemstones and suddenly, both girls yelped and jumped about a foot in the air and started rubbing their backsides furiously. Mitchell had to admit, he thoroughly enjoyed watching the display.
“Stollar’s cock, that hurt!” Lethelin swore as she sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.
“Ladies, that is quite enough!” Gilriel snapped with an undeniable air of authority.
Her tone was enough to send Mitchell right back to Mrs. Kimble’s fifth grade class at Horace Mann Elementary School. He had an almost irresistible urge to fold his hands in front of himself and place them on a desk. And she wasn’t even directing her ire at him!
“If you can’t control yourselves while a guest in my home, I have a garden that needs weeding, an athi coup that needs cleaning, wood that needs chopping, and a space to be cleared for a new root cellar. And if you still haven’t learned your manners, I have found over the years that a few hours jogging around the grove with a weighted sack to be an excellent way to burn off excess energy. What will it be?”
Gilriel glared at the two of them, her ice blue eyes glinting dangerously.
Allora bowed low first and Lethelin quickly followed suit, both looking suitably chastened at their dressing down by the older woman.
“Apologies, Gilriel. Of course you are right.”
“My apologies as well, Lady Gilriel,” Lethelin added meekly. “It won’t happen again.”
Allora’s eyes flicked to Lethelin and a small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. Then, addressing Gilriel once more, she said, “Agreed. It will not happen again.”
“Good,” Gilriel said with a clipped tone. “There is fresh water in the barrel next to the garden. Or you may make use of the stream. Get cleaned up and we will have lunch. I have prepared some fruit, bread, and cheese, and I have a bottle of mountain berry wine chilling as well.”
Neither of the girls moved, both looking afraid to be the first to do so.
“Move!” Gilriel barked.
Lethelin and Allora both hopped as if she’d stuck them with a hot poker and began power walking around the side of the cottage looking for the wash barrel. Lethelin was doing her best to match the taller elf’s stride without actually running.
“You need to teach me how to do that,” Mitchell said with a chuckle as the girls rounded the house and went out of sight.
Gilriel placed her arm in his as they followed at a more leisurely pace.
“Spend a few decades training new initiates and it becomes like second nature.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Come. You can tell me of your travels while I prepare the table. They will be a few minutes in washing up, then you can do the same.”