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The litter crunched beneath Vadeyn’s foot, a mix of pebbles and dead plants that crumbled at the slightest pressure. The sound it made was unfamiliar, the kind he could only hear outside of Gha’alia, where everything was lush – if not drowned.
The island – Edric, apparently? – was the opposite of drowned. The leaves hung, half-dead, off sun-scorched branches. Even their residents, the few he could see at a distance, seemed parched, moving like ghosts beneath the arid sky. But he wouldn’t take much interest in them – he couldn’t.
If he failed in this, then no doubt the Onyx Chandler would send Laceaga to do it properly, once he recovered. Drought would be the least of their concerns should he have to come to them in search of the thief – the pirate.
The pirate seemed aware that he was being followed – or, at the very least, he figured that he would be. The ship had been hard to trace. But he’d grown in confidence once they landed; no doubt he believed in the familiarity of the island and its residents. He ambled up and down the beach, casual despite what he held in his hand.
Vadeyn still wondered if he truly knew what it was – though he supposed it didn’t matter. From the actions of him and his crew, it seemed doubtful he would be willing to hand it over. Duliae certain hadn’t given him anything to bargain with…
“I’m certain you will find a way. Surprise me,” the blonde elf had said, with a smile that did not match his lackadaisical tone.
Perhaps the threat of continued following – of Gha’alia’s might – would turn them? Not that he liked the idea of having to threaten this man, should he have been unawares of what he was smuggling – but if he was aware, then Vadeyn would very quickly be surrounded by pirates in close combat –
He was still struggling with his plan when two figures entered his field of vision – two human women, in worn and faded clothing, who were laughing as they walked on the sand. Perhaps his focus should not have lingered, but then the pirate turned to look at them as well…
The shorter one was pale in face and hair, bound in a thick braid that whipped about in the wind. Her smile was wide as she looked up at her friend, her words quickly devolving into more laughter that Vadeyn couldn’t hear. The taller one laughed along, one hand leaving the handle of the basket she was carrying to cover her mouth. Her dark hair was braided as well – for practical reasons, Vadeyn figured.
A glance at the pirate showed him weighing the Cuthinthal in one hand while he regarded the young women, so Vadeyn allowed himself a second glance. It was rare for him to see much of humans, let alone their non-combatants – they carried no weapons. There was a vibrancy about them as they continued on their path… one that seemed destined to collide with his target, as they both noticed the pirate.
The brunette waved eagerly at him in greeting, which her friend echoed with a more muted gesture. The pirate closed the rest of the distance. Though at first it was the brunette who was talking, Vadeyn saw the pirate heft the pouch and gesture to one of their baskets, and the fair-haired one shook her head. Again, he did so, and Vadeyn’s chest tightened.
If he was trying to trade the Cuthinthal – another shake of the head from the young woman. The subject seemed to be dropped. For a little more the three spoke, to the extent that Vadeyn was starting to feel like a voyeur. Then, the women turned to leave, and then – in one quick movement, the pirate moved his hand to one of the brunette’s bags. When he moved away, the pouch was gone.
Relief and horror flooded him in equal measure.
Relief that perhaps these young women would be willing to speak, to listen, to cooperate. If not… that was where the horror came in. If they feared him, if he failed… it would be as if he sent Laceaga on their trail personally.
The woods offered more cover. Vadeyn followed them closer than he had on the beach, now catching snippets of their words.
“ – really think mermaids exist?” The brunette’s head was tilted with her question, voice clear and bright. Her companion was silent as she mulled the question over, giving the now-emptied basket a little swing in her hand.
“…Maybe.” Her voice was hearty and warm. “Something beautiful and dangerous in equal measure? It certainly is poetic… but maybe. Even if not, it makes for a good story, doesn’t it?”
They started to slow their pace. Vadeyn realized that they were nearing a small hut, wooden planks bleached by the sun. It hardly seemed livable, yet both young women put down their loads by the door. The shorter one looked at a fallen fence post and huffed. The taller one giggled.
“Again?”
“Again.”
They looked around and Vadeyn pressed back into the shadows, though he knew he was too far for their eyesight to catch him. It had just occurred to him that he could make a distraction, dart forward, and take the bag with the Cuthinthal without them ever noticing him… but what if they had something of import inside? It was clear from his observation that they were living on the margins. The last thing he wanted was to upset their lives further than he was about to.
The sounds of snapping twigs made Vadeyn retreat further. A third woman came, much older, years of hard living clear on her face. At this new distance, he couldn’t hear what was being spoken… yet both of the younger women clambered to their feet, nodding. The taller carried a sickle and the shorter grabbed one of the bags – of course, it was the one the pirate had used to hide the Cuthinthal.
Into the woods he followed them. This would be his best chance, he thought, as he perched in one of the trees. It offered him the best vantage point without risking their notice, their attention focused as it was on the ground. After some time of searching, they switched roles.
Then, the shorter one sighed and straightened. “Not good for another few days, I think…”
“You got us a good deal in the village, though!” The taller made her way over to a clearer spot in the forest canopy, where sun had been warming the ground. “I’d say that merits a break.”
The following laugh was a rich sound. “If you say so…”
Vadeyn was left feeling like even more of a voyeur, watching as one lounged and dozed and the other drew letters in the dirt with a stick. He mulled over some possible conversations in his mind, trying to find the one that wouldn’t put them on their guard.
Hello, can you help me? As if that wouldn’t seem suspicious, armed as he was – but he couldn’t just drop his bow… Excuse me, I was wondering – wondering what? If one of their acquaintances had taken a stolen elven artifact and slipped it in with their possessions? And all this was assuming they wouldn’t just take off screaming at the sight of him. Pirates were one thing, but elves? Had they even seen one before?
The taller one shifted where she lay, inched close to the base of another tree, and Vadeyn watched, eyes wide, as she lifted a squirrel in one hand. “Cere,” she singsonged, getting the other woman’s attention – apparently it was her name.
“Gabi – Gabi,” she repeated, drawing out the final sound as Gabi, apparently, lowered the squirrel to her friend’s shoulder. It seemed calm about the ordeal, shifting about as Cere stayed perfectly still. “Gabi, please – “
Gabi only smiled. Vadeyn found himself leaning to catch her words, the expression of her eyes – bright green, standing out against the muted colours of Edric’s forest. “It’s a new friend. Say hello.”
The squirrel hopped up onto Cere’s head, digging in its feet, but still the shorter woman didn’t move at all. “If I do, will you take it off me?” At the nod, she sighed. “Hello, squirrel.”
Vadeyn didn’t catch the reply through Gabi’s giggles, as she lifted the complacent rodent off of her friend’s head. It skittered up her arm, then down the length of her body, hurrying off through the undergrowth.
“You’re always so careful with them. I don’t understand why you’re so afraid –“ Gabi was saying, as Vadeyn realized just how much he had moved to see the scene. He started to shift when he through he was safe, but then Gabi turned her head. Her eyes widened.
Cere frowned, seeing only the reaction, and not the cause. “Gabi?”
“I think – I think something’s in that tree. I thought I saw a glint.”
They shared a glance. Cere stood, in her palm a small stone, then readied herself to throw it. It was sloppily-aimed. Vadeyn watched it tear through the leaves, far from him, and relaxed somewhat, just as they did.
Then the branch he was on cracked.
There were twin gasps, bordering on screams.
When he looked back down, steady on another branch, the women were gone. He didn’t chase them. He couldn’t; not after the fright he’d just given them. Of course they would be afraid of him – he was a stranger, watching them from afar. Why didn’t he just approach them on foot? Why didn’t he?
He decided, ultimately, to give them some time to recover from the shock. He had some time left, though not much. Not enough to have the luxury of more mistakes. He would linger in the forest near their cabin, approach them there. If they did not go out, he would go to them.
He wished he wouldn’t need to. He had intruded on enough of their lives as it were.
The next morning, the forest was quiet – much quieter than it had been the day before – and it was easy to hear their footfalls. They weren’t speaking much. Their vibrancy had faded, both glancing around warily, as if anticipating more elves in trees.
I’m sorry, could you help me? I’m sorry for troubling you… I’m sorry for this, but…
In the end, when Vadeyn stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself, the only words that left him were “I’m sorry.”
Both of the women startled, the shorter – Cere, he remembered – squaring her shoulders as she looked at him with narrow, dark eyes. It did little to make her more intimidating. The other – Gabi – looked at him with her eyes wide, uncertain, but clearly afraid. Her hand caught Cere’s tightly.
“… for?”
He hadn’t been expecting a verbal response – not the kind that he received, anyway, and he blinked at Cere. “Interrupting your walk – and for frightening you, yesterday…”
Gabi’s face grew paler. “I thought I saw someone –“
“Yes,” Vadeyn quickly nodded, wincing at having interrupted her. But things needed to be said and explained, and the longer he let this drag out, the less time he had before he would be leaving them to their fates at Laceaga’s hands. “My name is Vadeyn Milirose; I’ve been here searching for an artifact of my people, and I have reason to believe that you may have stumbled upon it.”
They glanced at one another, then back at him. Cere, once again, took the lead in the conversation. “You’re the first elf we’ve ever seen. If there is an artifact of your people here, it must have left here a long time ago.”
“Ah –“ There was the uncomfortable point. He shifted from foot to foot, trying to find the best way of wording it “Nevertheless, my patron and I have tracked it here, and not beyond. You may have seen it and not recognized it – a leather pouch, decorated in glyphs?”
The pair of green eyes widened only more. “Rylen’s pouch? Our friend – Rylen – he tried to trade us something like that, but we didn’t. I’m not sure where he is right now. Have you tried asking him?”
It wasn’t a question Vadeyn wanted to answer. Instead, he skirted at the truth. “It’s not in his possession anymore.”
Cere looked him over, eyes narrowing again. Then she clicked her tongue. “We can ask our aunt if anyone in village saw it.”
The old woman – well. Not quite a solution, but it bought him some time, if they were willing to take him to her –
“Yes!” Gabi brightened at the suggestion. “She’ll be back soon – here, come with us, we can wait for her at home.” She let go of her friend’s – sister’s? cousin’s? – hand to gesture at him, hurrying back in the direction he knew their hut to be. Vadeyn matched his pace with her – it wasn’t difficult, with his height – and soon he found himself in between both young women.
Gabi was the first to speak, glancing up at him. “You said your name is Vadeyn? I’m Gabrielle – Gabrielle Brisbane. That’s my sister, Cere.”
Cere waited for Vadeyn to turn his head to her before nodding and giving him a warm smile. “Cerelia Hearthwell.”
The different surnames, the vastness in their appearances, was at odds with their claim of sisterhood, but he said nothing. Perhaps humans had additional meanings for the term? In any case, it wasn’t his affair to mind. He was here for the Cuthinthal, strange as that was, and he had to stay the course.
The sisters had no such reservations, apparently. “You said you were an elf,” Cerelia began, shortly after, “but not where you were from.”
“Gha’alia. It is an island – about a month’s travel by ship, as the crow flies.”
The shorter woman tested the name on her tongue while Gabrielle frowned. “A month – it must be really important to your people, to be travelling so long for it.” Before Vadeyn could assure her it wasn’t much, that really this was a detour on the journey home, she added with a bright smile, “We’ll help you find it.”
It was an agreement made without words, as Cerelia didn’t seem to dispute the assertion. “Edric isn’t fond of strangers, but we’ve grown up here. It will be easier for you – that is, if you don’t mind our company?”
Vadeyn knew his journey wouldn’t take him much farther beyond their hut, but he still smiled his consent. “Of course not. I appreciate the help.”
What followed next was a quick conversation between the two women, seemingly on the same page of where to go first, of who to ask, and how to ask; they tossed out names of who would be thrilled to meet a new person, an elf, and who wouldn’t be. Very quickly the three of them were in front of the dilapidated hut, the fence post askew once more.
He lingered by it, trying to see if he could fix it, but then the sisters were opening the door and heading inside. “Come in,” Gabi called, brightly. He did.
The interior made his heart sink. It was clear they had precious little – some baskets and pots along one wall. Hay and furs were laid down as beds for the three inhabitants. There were a few stools, with uneven legs, and a table fashioned out of a stump – perhaps the hut was built around it. Yet the humans moved about it with ease, unashamed that their poverty was on display to a stranger, as they talked between themselves.
It occurred to him that it was very likely this was all they had never known. They had never seen Gha’alia in all its splendid trappings. On this island, this might have been the norm – or it might have been better. A dark pit formed in his stomach, twisting with guilt. They were surviving. They did not know where he came from – and he certainly wasn’t going to mock them. There was no reason for them to feel ashamed, yet he was expecting it, anyway, as a Milirose might.
“Take a seat,” Cerelia gestured to one of the stools, placing the sickle down near the door. “Our aunt should be back soon. We were going to eat – would you like to join us?”
The easy hospitality only worsened the guilt. Vadeyn shook his head, but smiled his thanks. Cerelia seemed to pick up on his reasoning – there was appreciation in the darkness of her eyes. After a glance, Gabrielle’s gaze carried the same. A cup appeared at his elbow, filled with water of average temperature, but clean, and refreshing considering the heat.
Gabrielle smiled wider as he drank. “Most newcomers find it hot here.”
“We’ll keep to the shade until the heat dies some.” Cerelia glanced around, a small frown puzzling her face. “Gabi, did you see where Vanya put the dried fish – I thought it was here, but – oh, hold on.” Vadeyn followed her gaze to a corner, where the sacks he had seen them carrying the day before were piled. His mouth dried. No amount of water poured into his cup by the attentive Gabrielle could remedy it, not as he watched her sister dig through the bags.
“I thought I saw her near these last ni – “
Cerelia froze. Quickly, though not so quickly that Vadeyn didn’t see, she plunged her hand in the bag. When she withdrew it, there was only a bit of leather visible through her small, shaking fist. She moved over to the table, holding the leather as if it were a snake, and dropped it.
“Is that it?” she asked, in a hollow voice.
It was the Cuthinthal – or, rather, the Cuthinthal’s pouch. It was empty. Gabrielle recoiled from table as if her sister had dropped a snake. Vadeyn picked it up, mindful of their combined stares. Before he could say anything else, the door to the shack opened.
The older woman nearly charged at him, but Cerelia intervened. Gabrielle was still watching Vadeyn with frightened eyes. He was still looking over the pouch while the blonde and the older woman spoke in hushed whispers. He opened every fold, half-expecting the cuthinthal to come pouring out, but nothing did. It was as empty as it was before.
“You drank it,” Vanya said, aloud, and Vadeyn’s head snapped up to look at her. Both women looked aghast. “The tea – we thought it was spice,” she added to Vadeyn.
“You – you fed us –“ Cerelia suddenly stopped, hand flying to pinch at her temples. Gabrielle’s face paled.
“Surely you can go back and explain?” Her green eyes were hopeful. It pained Vadeyn to shake his head and ruin her optimism.
“My employer has spent a great deal,” he explained, trying to keep his voice soft. “I – I’m afraid that if I return empty-handed, he will employ others – others who would not be above violence.”
“I appreciate your honesty, if nothing else,” Cerelia replied, her voice gone cold. She huffed her breath. In a quick movement, she looked from Vanya, then to Gabrielle, who was watching her. “Would we stand any chance of defending ourselves?”
He tried to find a tactful way of saying no. His silence was answer enough. Gabrielle reached out and grasped the blonde’s hand. “At least we won’t be alone,” she said quietly, sending Vadeyn a smile.
The guilt that flooded his chest nearly choked him and he nodded quickly before going out of the shack for air. The young women followed after a few minutes. Cerelia’s eyes were glassy; Gabrielle’s tears were fresh on her face. They both smiled at him.
Vadeyn did his best to smile back. It wasn’t right to take them from their home… but as he led the way back to the ship, he swore to himself that he would see them back safely.
He would make this right, somehow.