Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,62

this shy around me the first time I met them, but then I didn’t have a whole army of tribesmen and elves watching their every move last time either. When they don’t come any closer and continue to watch me warily, I sigh and look over my shoulder with a frown. “You’re scaring them. What is wrong with you? You’re acting like you’ve never seen the other fae before,” I grouse at Naril and the group of elves standing a few paces behind me.

“Forgive us, Clarissa, but the other fae have been gone for decades,” Master Ardeth comments, taking a few steps closer, his eyes alight with scholarly interest. “Many of us have never seen imps, pixies, or other such fae beyond elves.”

I remember Vaeril saying something similar, that they hid deep in the forest as they didn’t like the elves, but I hadn’t realised that some of them had never even seen another type of fae. Even the wood elves have very little contact with the other fae of the forest. When I was with the wood elves, a forest spirit showed itself to Speaker Hawthorn and me. He explained it was incredibly rare and he’d not seen one in decades, that it was a sign of magic returning to the forest, that the goddess had returned.

Looking at the other elves, I see Vaeril, Naril, and Eldrin seem much more relaxed around the imp. In their past roles as warriors and ambassadors, they had to travel, so it makes sense that they would have seen many creatures on their journeys. Tor seems curious but cautious, and I remember his last encounter with the fae in the forest—the forest witch. She drew me in with her song, a strong type of magic that lures unsuspecting fae to their deaths. We all nearly died, but I managed to break away from her spell, so I don’t blame Tor for being suspicious.

“Stix, can my friends come meet you?” I request, wanting to break some of the tension between the two groups.

The imp seems to think about it for a second before kneeling in my lap and peeping over my shoulder, narrowing his eyes. Flopping down into my lap, he settles back, playing with a lock of my hair once more. “Bear man.”

“Bear man?” Twisting, I look around in confusion, wondering who he means by ‘bear man,’ when my eyes land on Tor. Snorting, I point at my tattooed, tribal mate. “Do you mean him?”

Flicking his eyes up briefly, like this whole conversation is taking too much effort, he nods his head once. “Bear man,” he confirms.

Someone starts howling with laughter behind me, and I’m almost certain it’s Naril, but I try to ignore it as Tor walks towards us. As he lowers himself next to me, I can see under his beard he’s trying not to smile.

The next hour is one of the happiest of my life, and it’s filled with laughter. I managed to coax the other fae from the trees and introduce them to my other ‘bear friends,’ and I even managed to convince them, with the help of Speakers Hawthorn and Fawne, that the other elves were ‘the nice ones.’ The tribespeople seem to be surprisingly taken with the smaller fae, although most of them stay away from the wraiths that hover by the treeline. Not that I blame them, even I find the wraiths uncomfortable to be around.

I’m standing with some of the chiefs and describing how Stix and I first met, the imp sitting on my shoulder. “Stix saved the elf,” he exclaims proudly after I’ve just shared the story of how he told me where to find the nos weed.

Chuckling, I nod my head, and the chiefs smile. “Yes, you—” A strange wave of magic rolls over me, cutting off my words. My head snaps around to face the direction it came from, but I can’t see anything as it’s somewhere deep in the forest. The hair on my arms stands on end. Whoever is using it is very powerful. Vaeril and Tor are instantly by my side, and Eldrin and Naril join us seconds later when they realise something’s wrong.

“What’s happening?” Vaeril’s voice is low, trying not to cause a scene, but it’s too late, people have already worked out that something’s going on. The fae scurry into the trees, adding to the strange atmosphere.

Revna strides over, takes one look at me, and whispers to the chiefs, who start clearing the area, already taking action.