Light Chasers Lasniniar Collection

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Iadrawyn’s Secret

Valanandir and Iadrawyn fell into a comfortable routine over the next several days. He would sleep late while she gathered more food and deadfall for their fire. When he woke, they would sit together for hours, swapping stories of their people. It soon became obvious other than their natural affinity for different elements, their tribes weren’t so different. Valanandir would eventually fall asleep again only to wake in time for supper. Then Iadrawyn would inspect and treat his many healing wounds until he fell asleep once more.

Valanandir could feel himself getting stronger. His injuries were healing, but he was still weak. He didn’t know what he would have done without Iadrawyn to take care of him. He tired too easily to help her with any of the daily chores. For the first few days, he barely had the strength to leave their shelter to relieve himself.

Today he had sent her away so he could finally bathe. He was sick of his own sour stench. He was sure it was only politeness that prevented Iadrawyn from saying anything about it. She had given him one of her long, penetrating looks before agreeing to leave him on his own.

Valanandir had also insisted on doing all the work for his bath himself. He was tired of being an invalid. After Iadrawyn left, he stepped through the branches of the shelter to fill the cooking pot with snow. His muscles ached as he moved and the skin around his wounds pulled, but it still felt good to be outside and moving about. He stood with his eyes closed for several moments, breathing in the crisp air.

He opened his eyes. He was surrounded by trees of all types. Most of the branches were bare, save for the evergreens. They blocked out most of the dark, empty sky overhead. It was unnerving to feel so surrounded. He knew if he decided to go off on his own, he would soon become lost. Even though he was free, he was still Iadrawyn’s willing prisoner as long as he remained dependent on her knowledge and wood skills. He knew it should frighten him, but it didn’t. He trusted Iadrawyn. She would teach him what he needed to know once she knew he was ready.

Valanandir shivered, breaking his reverie. Without Iadrawyn’s comforting presence, he suddenly felt vulnerable and alone. Who knew what lay hiding in the darkness under the cover of the trees?

He knew he was being paranoid. According to Iadrawyn, no one knew about her hidden refuge and her village was nowhere nearby. He was clearly imagining things.

Valanandir filled the pot and made his way back into the shelter, trying to shake the feeling of being watched.

Eruvalion was ready to tear his hair out in frustration. He had been searching for Iadrawyn for days without success. He had returned to the village as she had asked to inform her family she had gone off again, telling them not to worry. He had been careful not to mention it in front of the visiting drakhal, who was spending quite a bit of time with Iadrawyn’s father and the other councilors.

Melariel seemed unconcerned when Eruvalion gave her the news. Iadrawyn’s mother was used to her daughter running off into the woods by herself. She had simply smiled and thanked him for bringing the news.

Eruvalion almost considered his trip back to the village a waste of time. Still, Iadrawyn had asked it of him. He always enjoyed doing things for her. He would do anything she asked of him. He was the only person who truly knew and understood her. She needed him to watch over her.

And now he couldn’t find her. He had had no problem following her from the village, but since he had gone back, she seemed to have disappeared. He could find no trace of her passing anywhere. He had already checked her usual haunts.

What if she was in danger? He knew she could take care of herself, but with drakhalu about, who knew what might happen? Although Eruvalion was genuinely worried, part of him was also secretly pleased to have a legitimate excuse to help Iadrawyn.

She needed him, even if she didn’t know it yet. She always needed him. They belonged together.

Eruvalion forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. He could still find no signs of Iadrawyn’s passage, even though he was far from the village. Why hadn’t she left any signs for him to follow? She knew he was coming back for her. Perhaps she didn’t think it was safe to do so. She didn’t usually leave tracks as she had done when she had left the village in anger. Eruvalion always considered it a personal challenge to find her when she went out into the woods. But she had never been away for this long before. She always returned eventually, which was usually when Eruvalion found her.

What if she didn’t want him to find her?

The thought struck him like a blow. His eyes stung with unshed tears at the very thought. Of course she wanted him to find her. She needed him. They belonged together.

But Iadrawyn didn’t always seem to understand that the way he did. He was patient, of course. One day she would see. He would make her understand. But why else would she be gone for so long? He should have found her by now, or she should have come back.

Was she hiding something from him? There were no secrets between them. He always made sure of that. Sometimes Iadrawyn tried to hide something from him, but he always found out. He felt a growing sense of certainty.

Iadrawyn had a secret!

His need to find her now was urgent. There could be no secrets between them. Eruvalion began to run. The trees whipped past him as he went. He needed to find her now. His eyes frantically peered through the darkness as he ran, looking for any sign. He blinked away tears of hurt and frustration. How could she betray him like this?

He would find her. He would find her if he needed to run for days to do it. And once he did find her, he would make everything the way it should be. He would make her see. There were no secrets between them. They belonged together. She would understand and everything would be all right.

Eruvalion was so focused on his search for Iadrawyn’s trail, he almost missed it. The faint scent of smoke stopped him in his tracks. He wasn’t anywhere near the village and no one ventured out this far.

It had to be her.

He slowed his rapid breathing and focused on the scent. It was coming from the west. Taking his time now that he had something to go on, Eruvalion followed the invisible trail. At first he wasn’t certain whether he had chosen the right direction, but soon the scent became noticeably stronger. He was close.

He stepped lightly on the snow, making no sound. The trees opened to form a small clearing with a giant, wayward pine at its center. Eruvalion crept around the perimeter. There were tracks everywhere. He crouched to take a closer look and received his second shock of the day: the prints were not Iadrawyn’s. They were too large. They appeared to belong to a male elf. There was a crisscrossing trail of them coming and going from under the pine. The tracks were fresh.

Eruvalion burned with a righteous fury. What was Iadrawyn doing hiding in the woods with another man? Even though there was no trace of her, he knew this must be her shelter. The male elf wouldn’t be in it unless Iadrawyn had brought him there. He realized he was shaking. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm himself. It would do him no good to go charging in.

Was Iadrawyn in the shelter with him now? That was the first thing he needed to know. He opened his eyes and crept around the tree to a spot where the needles were sparse. He peered inside.

He could just make out the outline of someone crouched within. They appeared to be tending a fire. Eruvalion strained his eyes and ears. To all appearances, the elf inside was alone.

Who was he? Eruvalion had no idea who would run off with Iadrawyn like this. His own ignorance disturbed him. To the best of his knowledge—which was extensive where Iadrawyn was concerned—there was no one in the village who would do such a thing. Whoever the mystery man was, he would soon be very sorry.

Eruvalion drew his knife. He would have to be quick. It would be better to deal with this situation before Iadrawyn returned to complicate things.

He positioned himself behind the other elf’s back and pushed his way through the branches. The elf sensed the movement and turned to face him.

Eruvalion felt as though he had been punched in the gut. The other elf had silver hair and matching silver eyes, which were widened in surprise. No one from the village had that combination of coloring. He was a Sea Elf.

“What have you done with her?” Eruvalion demanded, barely controlling his warring anger and fear.

“What have I done with who? You mean Iadrawyn?”

“Don’t you dare speak her name!” Eruvalion spat. “Now, what have you done with her? Where is she?”

“I haven’t ‘done anything’ with anyone. She’s off gathering food and firewood. I was in a shipwreck and carried to the beach nearby. Iadra—I mean she rescued me and brought me here.” He eyed Eruvalion’s knife. “Do you mean to use that? I’m unarmed.” He held both hands up to show they were empty.

“You lie!” Eruvalion raised his knife, putting the blade against the other elf’s throat. “If you were shipwrecked as you say, you would be in no condition to walk from the beach. If Iadrawyn rescued you and brought you here, how did she do it? She certainly didn’t carry you.”

“I—I don’t know.” The Sea Elf frowned, appearing confused. “I never thought about it, but you are right. How did she get me here from the beach?” His eyes were lost in thought. He was thinking about her.

Eruvalion put enough pressure on his knife to draw blood. It trickled down the Sea Elf’s neck in a thin, red trail. The stranger’s silver eyes met his in startled pain. Eruvalion moved his face in close.

“Iadrawyn. Is. Mine!” he growled from between clenched teeth. To his credit, the other elf did not flinch.

“I don’t think she belongs to anyone.”

For some reason, this calm statement pushed Eruvalion over the edge. He gave a savage cry, whipping his knife out from under the Sea Elf’s throat to strike him across the temple with the pommel. His eyes rolled back as he slumped to the ground at Eruvalion’s feet.

Eruvalion was trembling. He took several steadying breaths. Was the elf dead? He leaned over the prone body to listen. The Sea Elf still breathed.

Eruvalion took some rope from his pack and bound the Sea Elf’s wrists and ankles. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, he dragged him out from under the pine. Regardless whether his captive was telling the truth, he was a stranger to the wood. His fate was for the council to decide. But after the drakhal emissary’s visit, Eruvalion was fairly certain how such a decision would go. He smiled at the thought.

Hefting the elf’s limp form over his shoulder, he headed back for the village. Eruvalion’s anger gave him strength, but his burden was also light for its size. The Sea Elf must be malnourished. Once he handed the stranger over to the council’s custody, Eruvalion could continue his search for Iadrawyn.

If she had rescued and cared for this foreign creature… Well, Eruvalion would just have to show her the error of her ways. This time, he would make her understand.

Iadrawyn weaved between the trees, heading back to her shelter. She had given Valanandir more than enough time to clean himself up. Her pack was laden with the carcass of a rabbit and some nuts and berries she had foraged, and she carried an armload of wood for the fire. She was careful to leave no tracks in the snow. She did not want to lead anyone back to her hiding place.

She found herself eager to see Valanandir again, even though they had only been separated for a few hours. Despite their tribal differences, they shared a certain kinship. She felt comfortable with him in a way she never had with anyone else. She didn’t know what would happen when he was recovered enough to take care of himself. He was stranded here on the mainland, in the wood of a tribe that would most likely persecute him if they knew of his existence. She tried her best not to think about it.

Nevertheless, Iadrawyn felt a growing uneasiness she could not explain. She felt a sense of urgency to return to Valanandir’s side. Her intuition had never steered her wrong in the past, so she increased her pace.

The nagging feeling grew with each step. As she drew close to her shelter, she realized how quiet the woods had become. She was surrounded by an unnatural silence. The usual chatter and rustling of wildlife had vanished. Iadrawyn felt the hair on the back of her neck rise in warning. The clearing with her wayward pine was just ahead.

She set aside her pile of wood and drew her knife, approaching the area with caution. Her eyes darted about, assessing the situation.

There were tracks everywhere. She could clearly see where Valanandir had left and re-entered the shelter several times to fill the pot with snow for his bath. She forced her increasing dread aside to search for more clues. Something else caught her eye.

There, in the snow, was a second set of prints. The faint trail circled around the base of the tree. She followed it, her heart in her throat.

On the far side of the tree, the tracks led under its sheltering branches. Iadrawyn froze in place, her ears straining for any sound of life within the shelter. She heard none.

Pulling the branches aside, she followed the prints within, her knife held tight in her fist. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The fire had died down to embers. The shelter was empty.

Valanandir was gone.

Iadrawyn forced down her rising panic. She peered at the forest floor. The pine needles on the ground were disturbed on the other side of the fire. She knelt for a closer look.

The prints of the intruder showed him facing Valanandir, but there was no trace of Valanandir leaving the shelter. Iadrawyn knew he didn’t have sufficient skill to walk without leaving a print. She felt a deep sense of foreboding.

Her eyes swept the ground. It appeared that Valanandir had been crouching by the fire when the intruder had arrived. Her heart contracted painfully as she noticed some dark droplets on the carpet of pine needles. She lifted them for a closer look. They stained her fingers a sticky, dark red.

It was blood.

Iadrawyn forced herself to remain calm. Whomever the blood belonged to, there wasn’t much of it. She continued to investigate the signs that had been left behind.

The intruder’s tracks stopped at the fire, where it appeared a confrontation had occurred. Yet it was clear both the intruder and Valanandir had left. Iadrawyn noticed the carpet of pine needles had been scattered in a wide line leading out from under the tree on a different angle from where the intruder had entered. It was as if something—or more likely, someone—had been dragged.

Iadrawyn followed this second trail out from under the pine. The drag marks continued in the snow for several paces before the intruder’s prints reappeared. They were much deeper in the snow than they had been on the approach to the shelter.

Iadrawyn looked up to see where the tracks headed. Her heart sank. Whoever the intruder was, they were making a beeline for the village with a helpless Valanandir in tow. Iadrawyn estimated the trail was two hours old.

She silently berated herself for leaving Valanandir alone for so long. Even though his wounds were healing, he was still weak from the attack on his ship. He was in no shape to defend himself from an armed attacker. She also had a bad feeling about how her village would react when they saw him. What if the drakhal was still there?

Iadrawyn sprang into action. She had to get to Valanandir before it was too late. With the trail laid out before her, she started to run.