like Kovos was going to try and tell his dad that he was stepping out again, but then decided otherwise. He motioned for Legon to go out the back door. The new sword gleamed in the sunlight, and Legon had to admit that, flames or not, it did look good. Inwardly he thought, “It’s a good thing he has that. We may need it in the months to come.”
* * * * *
Kovos looked at his friend. “So what’s up?” Now in the light it was obvious that there was something wrong. He could see that Legon was trying to figure out what to say and how to say it.
“Come on, what’s up?” he asked again. Legon started to talk.
“You know that tattoo on my back?”
“Yeah, the strange looking thing?”
“Yeah… well, take a quick look at it.”
Kovos frowned and motioned for Legon to turn around. He came and lifted up the back of his shirt. He looked where the dark green tattoo was supposed to be and felt his breath catch in his chest. He looked harder at the now purple mark, as if by doing this it would somehow change its appearance. For a fraction of a second he thought Legon was playing a joke on him, but the look on his face told him this was no joke.
“What did that? Please don’t tell me magic.”
Legon’s answering silence told him more than he wanted to know. He felt a strange sensation in his stomach, the same he got every time he’d gotten in trouble as a little kid.
“Ok, lay it on me.”
Legon relayed the story to him, a story that, if he hadn’t just seen the purple tattoo, he wouldn’t have believed. He heard about Legon being part Elf and his dead mother, what he might turn into, and way more than his mind could wrap itself around at the moment. At the end, Legon appeared to be feeling better. Kovos rolled the new information around in his mind. He needed more time to think about this. He thought that paying Emma a visit might help.
“Ok, so how does this affect me?” he asked.
“Sasha is going to come with me when I leave. You were right—anything that might happen to me and her on the road is better than what will happen if she stays here. How it affects you is this: I understand if you don’t want to go with us, and if you do, we would like to go somewhere south, but if that doesn’t work for you then…” he said, tapering off.
He was surprised by the pleading look on his friend’s face. Legon was tough, and if he was this upset he must be expecting the worst. Kovos knew Legon would go to any length to protect Sasha, and would go south regardless of what he had to say about it. He also felt worried at the look on Legon’s face. If Legon was scared or worried about something then it had to be bad. A visit to Emma was definitely in order. Kovos only felt a moment’s hesitation in his head.
“The story you just told me is one of the most messed-up things I’ve ever heard, and a smart man would tell you to shove off, but . . .”
Legon interrupted, “But you’re not a smart man.”
“Lucky for you, I’m not. You’re my best friend, and if it’s a question of sticking with you, then you know the answer.” Kovos smiled and stretched his arms. “I think I’m going to enjoy the warmer weather in the southlands. And I hear the women wear fewer clothes down there.”
Legon laughed. “They do not, and even if they do, I doubt it’s the ones you want.”
Kovos chuckled. This was probably true. “I’m going to get back to work. We’ll talk later about when we’re going to leave. I won’t tell anyone about your freaky back, don’t worry.” As he said this he turned and walked back into the shop.
As Legon headed home he felt better. For the first time he felt a slight edge of excitement come over him at the thought of the adventure that Sasha, Kovos, and himself were soon to have.
Chapter Seven
The Hunt
“Our instincts keep us alive and out of trouble, but sometimes they are wrong. Sometimes they lead us away from trouble that is good for us and others. The question is this: When is it a good idea to trust those instincts? Certainly they aren’t always wrong; if anything they are rarely wrong,