The Broken Elf King, page 13
“No detectable poison,” he said with relief.
Blood bubbled out of the hole in her leg and the king placed his hands on her thigh. Purple arcs of light spilled out of his fingers and wrapped around her leg. The whimper died in her throat instantly and she sighed in relief.
When Raife pulled his hands back, there was no longer a bleeding gaping hole but a light pink, puckered scar.
“Thank you, my lord,” Cahal breathed, resting his head against his wife’s neck.
Raife said nothing, hovering over Naia.
“Raife?” I pulled on his shoulder a little so that I could look at his face, and my heart stopped when I saw his purple lips.
“Poison,” he said.
The arrow was poisoned. And now not only had he taken in her poison, healed her wound, but the arrow inside of him was as well. A double shot of that nasty odorless stuff the queen tried to kill us with before.
“No.” Cahal moved to catch the king just as Raife fell backwards.
Naia whimpered, getting to her knees beside the king and bursting into tears. Bailey and Ares were unharmed, and stood in shock at the edge of the tipped-over tent with their backs to it as the king gasped for breath.
No. Not again. Not like this.
A gust of wind kicked up and the tent blew off of us, revealing the king’s dire health to the entire beach. People gasped, burst into tears, and some even dropped to their knees in prayer.
It seemed that the Bow Men had taken care of the archers, because no more arrows fell our way, but even with a crowd watching on I couldn’t let that deter me.
I had to save him, even if it killed me. The world was a better place with him in it, and I couldn’t conceive of a healing gift I wasn’t meant to use.
Falling to my knees beside him, I snapped the arrow off like he’d done, a wave of emotions from everyone around me pressing in on me—Naia’s horror and guilt that the king would die because of her; Cahal’s remorse that he’d been unable to protect Raife; Ares and Bailey’s fear that they might see the king die and were helpless to stop it; the onlookers who genuinely loved their king and now were afraid of being without him.
I looked down at Raife as blood pooled on his tunic and his face went blue.
“No,” he whispered, knowing what I was about to do. “It… might… be your last…” was all he could get out before his breath fully left him.
Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against his ear. “Then it would have been worth it to save the man I love.”
When I pulled back, his eyes were wide, but I felt it in that moment, his complete and utter joy that I’d confessed such a thing.
Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his and exhaled, calling up whatever healing energy I had left.
The purple breath rushed over his face, and one by one the people around me gasped.
“She’s blessed.”
“Is that the Breath of Life?”
“Her hair!”
I gazed down at Raife, and although the blue was fading from his face, he still hadn’t breathed. After one breath didn’t seem to do it, I did another, feeling a weakness throughout my limbs. Finally the color returned to Raife’s face, but he still hadn’t breathed or spoken, so I prepared to exhale again, a third breath, everything I had, when Raife’s hand reached up and clamped around my mouth.
He gasped and sputtered for air as a collective sigh of relief filled the beach and the crowd sobbed and screamed for joy. I smiled down at Raife, and then everything went black as I collapsed right on top of him.
TEN
When I came to, I blinked rapidly, trying to get a sense of where I was. The last thing I remembered was saving the king’s life on the beach.
My fingers brushed the surface beneath me. We were no longer on the sand.
I looked up, my hazy vision clearing as I was able to finally take in my surroundings properly. I was lying in a bed; the window was open and there were birds chirping outside. The walls were plastered in a beautiful floral wall parchment and the hardwood floors were a rich brown. It was a lovely room, but not one I was familiar with.
“You’re awake!” A healer I recognized from the infirmary rushed forward.
Magda.
She was Raife’s most trusted healer, wearing her white healing smock. She placed two fingers to my pulse. “Strong heartbeat.” Then she held a healing wand over me and scanned it up and down my body. “Wonderful readings. How are you feeling?” She looked down at me with a smile, her gaze running quickly over my hair, which I guessed was whiter than before.
I nodded. “Fine. Is Naia okay? The king?”
Her face faltered a bit but she recovered with a smile. “Everyone from the beach attack is alive and well, and the assassins were caught and put to justice.”
Her gaze flicked again to my hair and I ran my fingers over it. “Can I see a mirror please?” I sat up and she ran to the chest of drawers, returning a second later with a handheld mirror.
I pulled it up to my face and gasped. My entire hair was white. All but one brown streak in front.
Magda reached out and grasped my arm. “What you did for the king… we’re all really grateful.”
I stared at her hand on mine and then frowned. “Where is my marriage ring?” I noticed immediately that the swirly yellow gold was missing. I peered over at the dresser but there was nothing on top but a hairbrush.
She shifted uncomfortably.
“Magda, where is my ring?” I didn’t mean to sound forceful, but my tone came out icy.
She exhaled, her shoulders falling as she looked away from me and a few inches to my right as if she couldn’t meet my gaze. “The king is going to tell everyone you died saving him. I have been given the pleasure of being your personal healer and housemaid—”
“What the Hades did you just say!?” I dropped the mirror on the bed and threw the covers off my legs. “Died? Where is Raife?”
My hands shook as I glanced down at my body to see that I was in a thin dressing gown. I couldn’t exactly storm out of the palace in this, but at this point I didn’t care.
“My lady, I have been tasked with informing you—”
“You will address me as queen. Now WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?” I roared, tears streaming down my cheeks as my scream gave way to a sob. Why was she calling me lady? Did he break up with me? I saved the bastard’s life and he dumped me, told people I was dead? I’d kill him. Oh Hades, I’d kill the bastard myself for this.
Magda looked alarmed, holding her hands out in an effort to calm me. “He’s back at the palace. You’re safe here. I’ve taken a Vow of No Harm on you. This is the only way to keep you safe my la—my queen.”
Shock ripped through my system. He was back at the palace? “Where am I?”
She shifted nervously. “In a lovely safe cottage, all provided for by the ki—”
I stormed forward, grasping Magda by the shoulders. “Cut the crap right now and tell me what’s going on.”
She swallowed hard. “The king said he could no longer be married to the most hunted woman in Archmere, that it wouldn’t be safe for you. The entire realm is talking about you, wondering if you can bring back their dead family members. They are bringing several-day-old bodies to the castle, asking for you to breathe them back to life.”
I deflated then; the fight completely left me.
He was right. Raife had said that if people found out about my gift, they would hunt me down.
“Where am I?” My voice was smaller this time, weak.
Magda softened. “Somewhere at the edge of the Briar Ridge Woods. The king has forgiven your debt and you will remain here forever in every comfort possible. Food is delivered weekly, the house and land are paid off—”
“Forever?” I snapped out of my melancholy and brushed past her to exit the room. I came out into a hallway and went right, which opened up into a living room with soft white and cream furniture. The wall of windows revealed I was nestled in a dense forest. Walking over to the front door, I threw it wide open and stepped outside. My bare feet touched upon damp moss and I did a full spin.
Thick trees for as far as the eye could see. No homes, no villages, just a mountain miles away.
“I’m a prisoner,” I breathed.
“You’re safe,” Magda said.
I spun on her, eyes wide. “I’m in the middle of nowhere! I’m trapped. How could he do this to me?”
Her lips pursed and she motioned that I go inside. “We will do a lot to keep those we love safe.”
Love? This wasn’t love. He wasn’t even here to tell me himself.
Holy Hades. The king dumped me and then made me his prisoner. Never in my wildest nightmares did I think he was capable of this.
* * *
Five days. Five days living in the woods with Magda was all it took for me to go insane. I was grieving the loss of a relationship I’d barely had, and a man I loved who’d clearly never loved me back. I felt trapped in the woods with no one to talk to but Magda. She wasn’t so bad, she was pleasant. Too pleasant. She just smiled and said nice things all the time. There was no fire in her.
Me: “I hate it here!”
Her: “I’m sorry, dear.”
Me: “I want to speak to the king.”
Her: “You can’t, dear.”
Me: “I’m leaving this place, screw Raife!”
Her: “You don’t know where we are, you’ll die in the woods. Just lie down and I’ll braid your hair and then make us some blueberry muffins.”
She was a pleasant captor but a captor nonetheless.
Today my new reality started to set in. The king was going to tell the realm I died, which meant my aunt was still stuck in Nightfall with her medications running low. Raife had thrown me to the dogs and hidden me away like a problem. Well, screw that. I wasn’t going to live out in this cottage for the rest of my life.
“Magda, I was wondering if my slave master sent any hair dye with our last shipment for me?” I asked her.
She didn’t like me calling Raife my slave master, but that’s what he was at this point.
Twice a week, a trusted Bow Man brought in fresh fruits and vegetables on horseback. Yesterday it was Cahal. He didn’t meet my gaze as he handed Magda the food. When I asked him to take me back to the castle with him so I could speak to Raife, he simply spurred the horse and rode off.
Bastards. All of them.
Magda sighed. “What do you need hair dye for, my dear?”
Because I want to run away and not get recognized. Having all white hair with one brown chunk as a rumor of a blessed swirled around wasn’t ideal.
“I don’t like this look. I want to look like myself,” I told her, grabbing the ends of my white hair.
She pursed her lips. “Would it make you happy?”
When I got close to her I could feel her desire for me to be genuinely happy. She pitied me and how the king left me here after I’d saved his life. She took her charge as my healer very seriously.
“It would,” I informed her. It was half true. I didn’t care what my hair looked like but being one step closer to breaking out of here would make me happy.
“Alright, I’ll be right back, then.” She moved to grab a basket and a knife from the kitchen and I frowned.
“Where are you going?”
“The king didn’t send hair dye, but muska root is a deep reddish brown that’s as close to your old color as we are going to get out here. I can boil it and make the dye myself. My mother taught me how so we could hide her grays.” She winked.
My heart pinched. Leaving her here was going to be hard. Not because I worried for her— she’d be fine, she knew where the heck we were and she had a Bow Man visiting every three days—but she would take my running off hard, as a betrayal and a failure.
Over the next several hours, Magda boiled the root and made a condensed reddish brown hair dye for me. Then she gingerly applied it to my locks while I sat and stewed in my guilt. When she was done I looked in the mirror and genuinely smiled. It looked really good, redder and darker brown than the color I was born with, but good. The part of my hair that had still been brown was much darker now that the dye had been applied over it, and as I peered closer, into the mirror, I saw that the right half of my eyelashes had turned white also. Hopefully, no one would notice, because I didn’t want dye to get into my eyes.
I smiled at her. “I love it. Thank you.”
She looked pleased with my happiness, and whistled as she cleaned up her work. We settled into our nightly routine then, me reading one of the hundreds of books Raife had sent here, and her knitting by the fire.
When I got up to make our final cup of nightly tea, I almost backed out of putting the valerian root in hers.
The fact that I told Raife I loved him and saved his life and he repaid me by locking me up in the woods, I just couldn’t get over that. I had to get out of here.
Dropping a large pinch of powdered valerian root into Magda’s tea, I added extra sugar and brought it to her. She took a sip and made a face. “Sweet,” she told me.
I gave a nervous laugh and sipped my plain tea.
Twenty minutes later she was yawning. “Alright, dear. Let’s get you to bed.”
I nodded, standing. “Let me just go to the washroom first. My tummy feels upset,” I said, and walked down the hallway to the washroom, locking myself inside.
If there was any question to my being a prisoner here, it was erased each night when Magda locked my bedroom door. I was not allowed to leave and that thought terrified me. I knew she was doing her job, at the command of a broken king, but I wasn’t meant to be caged.
Not now. Not ever.
I sat in the washroom for five minutes before I heard Magda come to the door. “It’s late,” she said, sounding sleepy.
I flushed the toilet and made my voice sound in agony. “Ohh, my stomach is cramping. I think it was those eggs we had. I’ll be a while. Why don’t you lay on the couch for a bit?”
Silence. And then, “Okay, dear.”
I paced the washroom for the next twenty minutes, trying to build up the nerve to go out there and check on her. I knew that if I had to fight her I could overwhelm her easily—but I liked her, I didn’t want it to come to that. I also knew she had a raven to get word to the king quickly, and I wanted to have a head start before he started looking for me. If he started at all. He might very well just want to be free of me and this would absolve him of any guilt he had to protect me in whatever sick way he thought this was.
After what I assumed was thirty minutes of silence, I reached out and unlocked the door, slowly turning the handle in my sweaty palm.
Please be asleep, I prayed as I crossed the hallway and peered into the living room. There, slumped in her knitting chair, was my slightly snoring captor.
I released a shaky breath and then tiptoed into my room, quickly changing into traveling clothes, then reached under the bed to pull out the stuffed pillowcase I’d been collecting things in all week: dried fruits and meats; a map of the realm I’d hand drawn to the best of my ability; an extra set of clothes and a meat knife; a canteen, and a blanket. Lastly was the angel novel I’d been reading. The king had sent it from the castle. It pissed me off that he’d do such a kind thing. Dump me, lock me up, but send my favorite book?
Idiot.
Hoisting the sack over my shoulder, I walked as light-footed as possible to the back door, the one just off the hallway that was farthest from Magda’s earshot. With trembling fingers, I reached for the lock and turned it. The door creaked a little as I opened it and my heart leapt into my throat.
Shhh, calm down, I told myself as the terror rushed through me. Slipping out into the night air, I closed the door as softly as possible and then ran into the woods like I was being chased.
I didn’t know if there were Bow Men around, or ravens or what. I just knew that other than sitting on the porch at midday I was not encouraged to go outside. The moon was high in the sky, but it told me nothing about where I was going. I’d have to wait for sun-up to gain my bearings of east and west. Nightfall was east, and I intended to save my aunt myself if the king was going to abandon her.
* * *
I didn’t want to get too far away without knowing what direction I was going, but I also didn’t want to be too close to the cottage if Magda had woken and sounded the alarm that I was gone. I ended up walking four hours in one direction until I found a small logging village. There was a giant pile of stripped logs outside the gates. I climbed on top of them to keep away from prowling animals, and then promptly fell asleep out of exhaustion.
Men shouting and the warmth of sunlight on my face woke me in the early morning hours.
“There’s a woman up there!” one of them yelled in Old Elvish.
I sat bolt upright, rolling my blanket into a ball and shoving it into my pillowcase. Peering down at the men bleary-eyed, I smiled politely and waved.
The elf men looked at me with shock. “Miss, what are you doing out here?” He spoke Old Elvish too, and I thanked the Maker I knew how to respond in the same tongue.
I cleared my throat. “Traveling to see my aunt. Got a bit lost. Where am I exactly?” I asked as one of the elf men, an older man in his fifties with kind eyes, stepped up onto the logs to reach a hand out and help me down.
“You’re in Southport, miss. Where does your aunt live?” I took his hand, keeping my ears covered with my hair and let him pull me up into a standing position. Elves weren’t against hybrid humans or anything, but if the realm thought I was dead or missing, the queen, a human-elf hybrid who could supposedly bring back the dead, I would have trouble on my hands. The odds of some logging elves going to a royal wedding were slim though, so I felt good about chances.
“Buckshot Valley,” I lied. Buckshot was the closest bordering city to Nightfall that was still within the Archmere realm.
The man whistled low. “You’re a day’s ride on horseback to Buckshot. Were you going to walk?” He looked confused as he helped me to the ground.
