Bow Before the Elf Queen

Layala stilled in surprise. “How is that possible? It would have shown at your testing day.” And she wouldn’t be the only mage so many sought after. She wouldn’t have shrines in her name or be expected to destroy the Void because she wouldn’t be the single born magic child in hundreds of years. And yet when she thought about it, she did suspect he possessed some sort of power. He seemed to heal quicker than most. There wasn’t even a blemish on his face the day after she drew blood with her nails. She assumed it was healing flora but nothing she knew of completely healed wounds overnight without leaving a trace.

“True, it would have,” Thane said, nudging Phantom into a walk on the path leading into the thick woods. “Except my father knew I was a mage before my testing day, suspected anyway. He forced Vesstan to test me before the official presentation. When it came to showing me to the kingdom, he placed another child on the altar while I slept in the castle nursery.”

“So, I’m not even the last mage as so many say. Why keep it a secret? And why did he want me if you have what he wanted?” Thane was quiet, as if debating on telling her or not. Layala nudged Midnight closer. “I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“I keep it quiet because I don’t want the attention it brings. And for my father’s part, I asked myself why he wanted you when he had Mage Vesstan at his disposal, as well as me.” His eyes flicked among the canopy of trees then landed on her. “But then I realized it wasn’t simply someone with magic he wanted. I spied on him one night when he talked into a crystal ball. He and Mathekis think you are the key to bringing back the Black Mage because of the sign on your testing day and the lily’s mark on your arm. Tenebris planned to give you to Mathekis, the dark general, and in return my father would be granted the gift of magic when the Black Mage rose.”

Her head began to pound, a low dull ache. She knew the pale ones were after her, drawn to her, but never knew why. It made sense now. Her birthmark took the shape of vines with lilies. She always knew there was something wrong with her magic and that confirmed it. Sweat prickled all over her body, a sheen that wracked her with a shiver. It was suddenly hard to fill her lungs. If only she could bring back the Black Mage, she was evil and all this time she thought it was Thane. No, it was her. She killed Novak. She got her parents murdered. She did that… Chest tightening, she clutched at it. White spots erupted in her vision; she was too hot, too cold, the world spun.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice sounded far away, as if she was underwater. She looked at him through blurred vision, and thought she was going to be sick. She felt herself sliding from the saddle but couldn’t get a grip before she slipped into complete darkness.

Light trickled in, as if she lay at the bottom of a well so deep the sun could barely reach her. “Layala, wake up,” a deep voice commanded. “Layala. Layala.” His muffled voice became clearer every time he said her name. “Layala, please wake up.”

She peeled her eyes open to see the forest of so many wonderful colors. The brightness hurt for a moment, but her vision adjusted. Regaining control of her body, she turned her head to look into Thane’s frustratingly glorious face. She realized with sudden acuteness he knelt on the ground, and she was cradled in his arms.

“Hi,” he said softly.

It took great effort to lift her arm, but she placed her hand over her forehead. It still ached. “Hi,” she said back.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I guess I fainted.”

“Have you ever done that before?” He still held her like she was something precious and rare.

“No.” She struggled to sit up until Thane pushed her. “I don’t know what came over me.” A lie. She knew exactly what: panic, sheer panic, anguish, and the truth.

“Are you sure? I thought I felt you panicking.” He took her by the hand and guided her to her feet.

“Felt me panic?” She said each word slowly. “What are you talking about?”

He pursed his lips and reached for her, pulling a leaf out of her hair. After he tossed it aside, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Can you not feel it?”

“Feel what?” she demanded.

“The magical bond between us allows me to feel your emotions sometimes. If it’s strong enough.” He watched her carefully as if he was afraid she might pass out again. “Sometimes I see what you see, hear what you hear. You don’t?”

“No,” she snapped. “I-” she slammed her mouth shut. Maker above, I have. So many times, and all the while she thought it was a side effect of her magic or that she was delusional. The voices, holy Maker, this was why she thought Piper, Sunshine, Fennan and Thane felt familiar, sounded familiar. The flash of the field of wildflowers the night he showed up at the Smoky Dragon. She knew that field because she saw through his eyes the night when he was on his way to get her.

“That’s how you knew where I was. You could… sense me.”

“Yes.”

“And you never told him. You never told your father.” Even when Tenebris threatened him. Even when he beat him as a boy. He kept silent to protect her. He held her gaze as he slowly shook his head. “I don’t know what to say other than… Thank you.”

Riding in silence, Layala stared at the back of the horse’s head, her vision going in and out of focus. Going to the Sederac Mountains where dragons nested and hunted would be dangerous. They had a taste for elf or so she heard. Swords and regular arrows would be useless against them. She would no doubt be forced to use her magic which made her stomach turn. But something shifted in the atmosphere, stealing her thoughts away. Birds quieted and she sensed they were being watched. Midnight’s ears twitched, moving back and forth.

Thane already drew one of his swords from the scabbard on his back, resting it across his lap. “We’re being followed,” he whispered.

Was it another vulture or something worse?

Her only reaction was to let her eyes scan the area. She didn’t want to give away their awareness. Would it be pale ones? When the portal stole her magic did it send out a pulse? The colorful trees stilled, as if even the very wind hid. The massive trunks could easily conceal several assailants. The quiet groan of a bowstring being pulled back flared her magic. The power humming in her blood tingled all over her body. As far as Layala knew, pale ones didn’t use bows and arrows which meant—

“We are within our rights to execute trespassers.” Three light-haired elves stepped out from the trees, blocking their path.

Her stomach flipped and she pulled back on Midnight. Turning, Layala found three more behind them, all with arrows knocked back and ready to release. They wore various shades of greens and browns, matching the surrounding environment. The attire was more practical with no fancy designs, but she did note their necklaces made of bones intermixed with raw cut colorful stones. Their brown cloth boots reached above the knee, a style she wasn’t accustomed to.

Midnight either felt Layala’s tension or that of the elves around them; he shifted about and knickered loudly. Layala held the reins tight. She didn’t want him to run lest she be shot in the back. Thane lifted his hands in a show of surrender. “We came to see a friend. We mean no harm. If you’ll let us go—”

“Let you go?” the center elf questioned with a sneer. “You either die here or come with us.”

“I’m afraid we can’t go with you. Dinner plans, you see,” Thane said. He was so calm Layala could hardly believe it. Her heart beat so fast and loud she had difficulty hearing anything else. She kept looking back at the group behind her making sure they didn’t make any sudden moves. A simple slip and the arrows would fly. Wrapping her hand around the pommel of the dagger Thane gave her, she readied herself to throw it and take out the leader.

“Get off the horses,” the leader commanded with his arrow pointed at Thane’s chest.

“We’re not your enemy.” Thane lowered his hands.

Did lowering his hands mean he wanted to fight? Her arms tingled, and she loosened the damper on her power, letting it trickle through her blood. Maybe that alone would be enough to scare them off. They looked at each other confused and took a couple steps back.

“Who are you?” The male to the left’s voice beheld a slight tremble but none of them lowered their weapons.

“Someone you don’t want to anger further,” Layala said and squeezed the reins as hard as she could, fighting the magic to stay inside. It never liked when she was threatened.

“I ask that you allow us to leave before things become bloody,” Thane said, calmly.

The leader’s eye twitched and as if in slow motion, she watched his fingers loose the arrow. The twinge seemed to echo in the forest. The arrow headed right for Thane’s heart. Layala threw up her hands and unleashed her magic’s hold. Thick black vines ripped free of the dirt, growing at rapid speed. The roar of them snapping through tree roots and bark and solid ground. A thorny vine blasted up in front of Thane taking the arrow’s hit that could have killed him. More arrows released. Layala grew more wild vines, but an arrowhead grazed her arm. She hissed from the sting.

Thane sprang from the horse and drove his sword straight through the chest of the leader. Blood gurgled out of his mouth. Layala gasped at the suddenness of Thane’s action. When he turned and slashed his sword at another elf, a head hit the ground moments later. The eyes stared at her accusatory as she froze in horror, as if she’d been the one to do it. She fought down rising nausea when blood pooled at the base of the severed neck. She couldn’t believe how much. She killed pale ones, but their blood was black; the crimson staining the forest floor now was like her own.

She jerked around to the sound of the elves behind them reloading their weapons. One raised his arrow and met her gaze. The arrow flew straight for her chest—it dissolved into dust inches before it struck her. The debris carried away in the wind. Layala blinked several times and the elf who shot at her looked just as confused as her.

“That was your last mistake,” Thane said and marched toward the elf with an unnerving calmness. Layala directed her magical barbed vines to twist around the remaining enemies like boa constrictors, growing thicker and taller until the stalks were nearly a solid wall. She kept the three woodland elves’ faces free, but their bodies were completely immobilized, wrapped entirely in the vines. Midnight purple lilies bloomed, beautiful but deadly if she allowed them to spray their poison.

“I warned you.” Her voice was low and venomous.

When she glanced at Thane, he was smiling. Smiling. He killed three elves and watched her wild magic explode and yet he smiled. She thought he’d be terrified, and recoil away from her like she had a plague. And yet he appeared to enjoy it.

“You’re her,” one of them said.

Thane swaggered up to the male who’d spoken. “I bet you’re wishing you would have listened to the lady.” He glanced back at Layala. “Should we kill them, too?” He pulled a knife from his belt and slowly drug it down the side of the male’s face.

His eyes went wide; blood seeped up and dripped, plopping loudly on the ground below.

“No, please,” they started to beg simultaneously. “No.”

They were trapped and defenseless now, but they’d tried to kill her and the High King of Palenor. Could they honestly let them go?

“Please, your highness, let us live,” he said in a shaky voice

“Ah, so you did recognize me, yet, you still tried to kill me? And that means you must know who she is.” Thane rested the blade against the elf’s cheek; the pressure caused a light indentation in his skin. Blood poured even faster.

“I didn’t at the time; we didn’t,” his voice wavered. “I—I see it now. I sincerely apologize, High King. I beg your forgiveness.”

“And you expect I, the High King of Palenor, should be merciful? You injured my mate. You specifically. You tried to kill her.”

Layala glanced down at her arm. The wound was superficial, but a couple inches over and she might be dead.

The elf’s chin trembled but he didn’t speak. Wetness pooled at his feet, seeping out from under the black vines. The few moments of silence were like watching dark storm clouds waiting for lightning to strike.

“Please, most High King, mercy.” A glint of metal beamed between the two of them; the elf begging for his life held a weapon and somehow he got his arm free.

“Thane, he has a knife!”

Thane shoved his blade through the base of the elf’s throat. The elf’s dagger clanked to the ground. The elf let out a dying groan, his eyes wide. When Thane turned toward the other two, they started to beg for their lives as well. This was the exact reason he earned the reputation of brutality, and yet, she wasn’t upset. Shocked at the suddenness of it but not angry. That elf did try to kill her, would have killed him. Her heart still pounded from the attack.

“If anyone touches her in any way, death will come swiftly. And I am the reaper.” Thane wiped the blood on the collar of one woodland elf, and tucked the knife in his belt. He took a step back, looking at the piss collecting near his boots then climbed up onto Phantom. “If you get out of your trap, take the message back to your Lord Brunard.” After his gaze fell to her injury, he said, “Let’s go,” then nudged his horse into a trot.

Layala looked at each of the living elves before she followed. If they had luck, the pale ones wouldn’t come and finish them off before they could escape.